Strange Wanderings (300+)

[Velnias]

Neytiri





Every rose has its thorn...

Heavy hooves beat softly, slowly through the grass. A lone black figure sighed deeply, in and out, in and out, her massive chest swelling and compressing with each forceful breath. She dragged on, alone, through the rough, jagged terrain, as her large, black hooves finally reached the jagged cliffs. She raised her broad head, a solemn expression molding her beautiful face into a twisted frown, reflecting the great pain and sorrow she felt.

All around her, rocks tumbled, hitting the rough walls of the cliff, then crashing into the churning, blackened sea below. She was torn apart inside, much like these cliffs were tearing themselves apart. Perhaps that was the reason she brought herself here. Perhaps she, too, would hurl herself over these crumbling peaks and become one with the black foamy sea below. Neytiri shuddered at this horrible thought yet again. She did not know what to do now, or where to go, for she had no one to go to. She she had such a corrupted, twisted past, she knew. Yet she had forgotten it.

She had forgotten everything up to several moons ago, when she had encountered someone, or something, she wasn't quite sure. She remembered that before...she was normal. She thought that maybe, just maybe, before she had a life of some sort, perhaps someone to lean on and love, but that was all gone. She knew she was in a strange land, wandering alone, for she had felt a great loss of one she held dear. She could remember that much, and that she awoke days later, famished and parched. She did not know where she was, or even fully who she was. It was then she began to experience her...feelings. The inner emotions she felt and strange visions she saw scared her, for she did not know why she felt this way and why these strange things were happening to her. She was different now, and she was sure nobody would accept her now.

She was truly beautiful, with her long, wavy locks stretching below her shoulder, and her luscious tail that just barely rubbed the ground, and her strong build, long legs, and broad yet refined face. Yet if only once, one were to look in those dark, deep red eyes of hers, they would never forget them. Why? Because those who looked in her eyes could see within her flaming, burning, churning soul, that there was something strange hidden within. Those who glimpsed her fiery red eyes would see them every time they looked at her, or remembered her, for those eyes peered into the deepest depths of the soul, they pierced the boundary many could sheild themselves in, the lookest to the darkest depths within, and that was why only a true, brave, loving heart could be with her. Only the most valiant and noble creature would accept her and love her for the beauty she was on the outside, and the beauty she could be within.

But souls like those were rare, so hard to find, and Neytiri was certain one would never glimpse her. She felt lost and hopeless, broken and heartless, and now as she stood as tall and proud as she possible could be on the brink of oblivion, the massive and unsteady cliffs swaying beneath her enormous weight, she felt the urge to end her trouble, then and there. There would be no more pain, no more suffering, and Neytiri could escape these lands with bound her with its secrets and lies, and mysteries concealing her strange and unknown past.

She swiveled her large, muscular neck to quickly check behind her to see if anyone was behind her, drawing near to her. Yet again, she caught no one as her flaming eyes scanned the flat, rough clifftops. At least she could see any soul for miles around her, and hear anyone if they chose to notice her. She preferred no audience to witness her death.

Somewhere within her dark confines of her inner self, she felt a small glimmer of hope, the hope that guided her on these last weeks when she moved forth, struggling on in search of comfort, yet finding none. Now all she wanted to do was stop. She wanted to lay down and die. She knew she shouldn't quit on herself and a part of her struggled against this will, yet she could only imagine this death as a way out, a glorious easy path to freedom. For as far as the eye could see, she caught no life, no love, no home, no peace.

OOC: I have a feeling I could post forever for this character. I'm normally not a 1,00 word type of poster, but I could have typed 2,000 for this mare. She is one I've put a lot of heart into. I would like big posts with detail, for anyone who wants to reply, and I'm just letting you know that she's a lead mare type of horse for sure, and I'd really like for her to get a chance to be in a smaller herd where she can feel loved and she can get some separate attention, because as you may see, she does need it about now.

[Racechick]

OOC- I will reply in the next couple of days, I want to make sure I put all I can into this post =))

[Velnias]

OOC: Thanks. I love her, and I'm going to put all I can into her as well. Wow...I don't even know how many words I typed! 700 something, I think!

[Velnias]

OOC: Okay, this post is open again...anyone brave enough to take the challenge?

[Mazzira]

OOC(This is just my ideas. So no replies. I'll turn them into an actual post tomorrow.)

"So, are you going to jump, or do I need to push you?"

"Don't worry, I'm not dangerous. Except when I want to be."

[Mazzira]

Valek

You obviously don't know me very well

The pounding of waves against the untstable cliffs sent vibrations through the ground and up my strong, black legs. Those vibrations travelled up those steel cables and into my deep barell, moving the fine coat of onyx hairs that covered my skin. The only interruption in the flow of silky darkness was a C of crimson that seemed to be painted on my chest in dripping blood. Though the marking had been there since birth, for something who didn't know my past, it was possible to think that it had appeared there with the numorous lives I had taken.

That was completely wrong, because I held no guilt for my past, nor the lives I would have to end in my future. Lives taken, families torn apart. So what? Those who I had killed deserved it for what they had done, so I cared not for them. It was the innocent lives I took, the foals and yearlings, that I felt guilt over. But, truly, if I must I would kill them without remorse. Only I would make sure their deaths would be quick and painless.

The ground trembled once more, pulling my thoughts away from morals. My deep blue eyes scanned the cliffs as the very edge disintergrated and fell to the raging tides below. A shiver passed through me as I saw the destructive force of the waves. How easy it would be to slip, or for the sea to move the crumbling charcoal so it, and me, fell endlessly into the tumbling grey swells. Then the waves would turn my over and over like a piece of sea glass until I no longer knew which was up and drowned in those bleak depths.

Not a pleasant way to die, but the way, it seemed, all those that saw no purpose in living did. Just a step off that crumbling edge and falling down, down, into the crashing waves to be taken by the untamed fury of the ocean. Then there were those few that ventured too close to the unstable edge and when the powerful swells crashed into the base of the cliffs they slipped and the ocean consumed them, too. Just like those hungry grey tides consumed those who decided that the world was too much.

However, I wasn't here to be swallowed by the salty sea water. In fact, I wasn't even here to admire the view. I was here to scout a location to set up a business, of sorts. Coming here had crossed off another spot. Certainly no one would venture on to this treachorous ground just to have someone killed, and, if they were crazy enough to, it was possibly they could die leaving. So, no, this place was not somewhere that I could start my business again.

I started turning away from the crumbling charcoal, my onyx mane tugged out in the opposite direction to what I was going by a playful breeze. I followed the constantly moving strands of hairs with my eyes, watching their ends twist and flip in open air. Then I saw something, just as dark as my mane, standing near the edge of the cliffs.

It was horse. But, no, that wasn't possible. No horse was crazy enough to stand on the edge of the disintergrating cliffs. Especially with the feel of a late summer storm in the air. Yet, there one stood. A regal obsidian head thrown up in the air, mane dancing over open space as the wind stroked those onyx strands. Feathers obscured the hooves, and the banner of darkness that wrapped around the side of the horse blocked my view of what gender it was.

Curiosity flared within me. Who would stand there, posed as if the jump, when a tempest was brewing? Only one answer to that; someone who wanted to die. The thirst for knowledge grew, and the want to quench it made me move forward against my better judgement.

Leave, Valek. It's not like you could talk a horse out of killing himself, or herself. Afterall, aren't you one that does it for them?

[/i] I thought to myself, but still I moved forward, my deadly sharp hooves making no noise on the soft, peaty ground. My tendons, hidden under a layer of skin, were like steel cables pulled taut. They wer ready to brace against the shaking of the cliff or jump away from a deadly patch out ground. Still, an uneasy feeling grew in my mind as I proceeded forward the the treachorous ground near the edge of the cliff.

I stopped focussing on my path for a second to look at the horse. Now I could see it was most definitely a mare, her shining barrel like a piece of flawness obsidian. Constant movement surrounded her hooves, neck and ears as the wind grabbed at her long, silky mane. Then there was her face. Sculped by what could've been an angel's hand, it was lined with worries beyond anything most of us could understand. Flared trumpets, like two black lillies, took in the salty air, obviously detecting me.

"Need any help?" I teased, my hooves coming to a stop but my tendons remaining ready to move without a moments notice. My sapphire optics followed the well formed muscles under her sleek neck to her twitching ears and down the bones of her face to her eyes. Surprise struck through me like a lightning bolt as I saw what they were hued.

Crimson like the heart's blood, gleaming and cold, yet somehow unimaginable deep, like the ocean below us. Someting swirled under the surface of them, something just as stained with blood as I was, but actually guilty for what it had done. Sorrow emanated from those blood coloured optics, and something else that I could quite understand.[/font][/blockquote][/blockquote][/color]

Words: 983
Muse: As it has been for the last week with this annoying assassin, through the roof.
Playlist: Errrr... Ask me some other time.
Other/Notes: These two will probably click, after he goes all sarcastic.

[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Mazzira]

Ruffian!!!!

[Velnias]

OOC: MAZZY! Awesome post...Let's see if I can beat it. My muse has come back after deserting me for four days. Sorry I waited, I wanted to save the best for last!

Neytiri

Thoughts and images swirled in her head,
her mind and body speaking two different
languages and getting nowhere. She
squeezed her eyes shut to block out the view
of the blackened, churning sea below. She
wanted to jump, her muscles were tensed
and prepared to leap her bulk from the ledge
and plummet into the water and black foam.
But something held her back. She didn't know what.

She opened her eyes and looked down at
the growing cracks at the very edge of the
cliff face, her form silhouttted at the very
edge, and then it hit her. If she wanted
to jump, jump now. The cliffs would collapse
at any moment. She had to decide.

It was then that she felt another pair of
gleaming eyes, eyes that were most certainly
not hers. Instinctively, she shut her own,
and she heard a rasping, strong voice billow
through the thick fog, reaching her twitching,
flickering black ears through her thick, wavy
mane which so well hid her face, she thought.
The sound was coming from a being, a being
approaching her. It dripped sarcasm like a pool
of blood, but there was something hidden past
it. She dared not open her eyes, at least not yet.

For a moment the black mare stood there,
and then slowly, carefully, turned her head
from the sea to gaze over the wide spanning
cliffs. Her forelock had fallen over her face,
and she could peer through half closed eyes
without much fear of their glowing for the
strange being to see. There was a moving
mass, blended in with the dark, shimmery
rock. Her sense scanned the moving soul,
alert and sharp to his every motion and cloudy
breath fogging the dark, misty air around them.

She did catch a strong scent in her flaring
nostrils, and a clatter of hooves against the
sharp rock in her erect ears. Her voice was
soft at first, hesitant almost, then it grew
strong, stronger than the roaring sea rushing
and beating the obsidian rock below.

"Who goes there?
Who ventures towards me on the verge of these crumbling cliffs?"

Neytiri saw a glimmering coat, black as night,
much alike hers, but a strange red mark lit up
his black form and seemed like blood running
froma great scar in his chest, a horrible scar
formed in the shape of a C. Neytiri felt an
enormous amount of power radiating from this
being, and felt that this one was one who had
won many hard fought battles, many treacherous
struggles...but nothing else. She was blocked
from his mind. She couldn't access his thoughts,
feelings, or his name. He radiated a strong
side, and a sarcastic side...but she became
frustrated. She narrowed her eyes, her piercing,
blood red eyes, thoughtful and pondering the situation.

She watched his step with critical eyes, watching
his long, pace and fast movement, yet not rushed.
She could see his face once he stepped closer,
and his eyes were dark and concerned. He looked
to her like part running horse, part jumping horse,
as well as something else. This was simply from
clever deduction and her time meeting other in
her strange wanderings and seeing many
kinds, even though she could go for months
without meeting a single soul in all the land.

Her thoughts began to drift again, thinking
of how lonely and quiet it would be, and those
times were the times she reflected on her past
and wondered what it would be like to be
normal. In her other vast lands she had traveled,
it was true, she had met horses of all kinds
and sizes, but all of them were not strange,
like she felt she was. They blocked her out,
forced her to leave. They could not accept her
abilities and looked past what she was inside,
and only saw her outer shell, the uncertain,
uneasy front she had shown along with her
freakish emotions and feelings. She wandered
for years, alone again, until she wandered
here. To the cliffs. Where she had originally
planned to hurl herself over. Something
tugged at her, though. Something pulled her
from the edge and the clawing fingers of death.

She shifted her weight, ever slowly, to turn
her front end away from the cliff edge and
the jagged rocks below. Her hooves moved
slowly and carefully,yet confidently she turned
to face the horse. She tossed her head to
cause the thick, wavy forelock to curl over her
crimson eyes and block them from view once
more. She couldn't be sure if the stallion had
seen them, as he had after all, appeared so
suddenly to her. There was something coming
from this stallion, from deep within, that told
her to wait. To see what he was here for.
Maybe, she thought, maybe he was different.
Just maybe.

Even as the strong, billowing winds tugged
hard on her black locks and her hooves, large
and heavy, felt stuck in one spot, unable to
move, her heart pounded. She felt the regret
and the sorrow creep in through her pounding
mind again, pounding with the rush of water
against the hollow, jagged,unsteady cliffs.
The rock began to sway under her large hooves,
yet she remained rooted in her location.

Her eyes again lifted their strong gaze to the
slowly moving figure. She pinned her ears for
a brief moment, unsure of what to think, feel,
of do. She held her broad, sculpted face high,
arching her neck magnificently. Her four, long
ebony legs held her so the wind could not shift
her massive weight, though she knew at any
moment, the cliffs may fall, crumble, turn to dust
beneath her. Yet she felt no fear. She was tired
of being fearful. She wouldn't shrink away from
the unknown and the impossible anymore.
Nothing would shake her now.

"Stallion, I can tell you are strong, for you can block my thoughts and mind from melding with yours, something I have now grown accustomed to.
I shall state to you now that I cannot tell you, or anyone why or how I have this ability, for I know not myself.
I must only say that I stand here on the edge of oblivion for reasons which battle my mind and try my soul."

She stopped, still uncertain. She was holding back,
for some odd reason. She hadn't spoke so many
words together in such a long time, that it seemed
as if someone other than herself were pouring
her thoughts from within her body. It felt strange
and different, but what was rarer still was the
feeling that a being whose depth and emotion
matched hers, in more ways than one. Here
she stood, ready to plunge to her death, and
there he stood, approaching her, and she could
feel within the power, the strength, the sagacity
from within the horse, the horse whose
struggles were great and toiled, and from his
swagger she could guess that they burdened
him heavily with each passing day, something
to mirror her very own.

Words: 1,161
Muse: Good, not great, but I could get this out. Neytiri tells me it will get better.
Playlist: Never understood what the playlist thing is for...
Other: Great post, Mazzy, I think they'll click too, soon enough, I hope.

[Mazzira]

Valek

You really don't know me very well

He stood without moving as the cliffs trembled each time the waves crashed into the unstable base of the shear rock face with a force stronger than any other thing in the mortal world. His blue eyes were on the mare in front of him, watching her turn slowly, her red eyes once again surprising him slightly. No one could have eyes like that, it just didn't seem right. Then again, his eyes were a rich shade of sapphire blue. Not exactly normal, but not as abnormal as blood red eyes.

With a quick flick of her head her eyes were hidden once more, but Valek was still intrigued by their crimson depths. There was sadness and sorrow he hadn't seen in any horse's eyes before, not even while they bled out with him standing over them, his eyes cold and merciless, his face cold and blank. There was only terror in their eyes during their last moments of life, while the Grim Reaper came to take their souls to the underworld. Valek had seen him a few times. The Grim Reaper, or Hades, with his bundle of hourglasses, glowing blue eyes and deathly appearance. Death, with his hate of Valek and the way he showed up whenever the assassin ended a life. Yes, Valek knew him well. Knew him, and didn't get along well with him, despite the fact he could be considered as the assistant of Death.

He wasn't. He did as he wished, or what his commissioner wished, and would never take orders from the Lord of Death. Why? Because Valek wasn't Death's assistant, he was the mortal that really got under the God of Death's skin. The reason for that he had no idea, but he knew he didn't exactly like the god of death. Like, at all. If there was on horse he actually want to kill, if it was possible, Hades would be that horse. Except there was no known way to kill a god, and Valek would die before the world ended and the gods had nothing to do, so they too would cease to exist. Valek wouldn't be around for that, though, so he'd just have to keep hating the god of death for the time being.

Moments passed without talk, only the sound of breathing a faint sound of hearts thumping within chests, pumping blood through the veins of the two horses nd keeping them alive. The grim Reaper would not be visiting them for any reason other than if the cliffs collapsed under them, sending the two black horses, standing near the cliffs edge as if carved from onyx and set upon the precarious cliffs to watch the sea forever, to their deaths in the tumbling water below that was always ready to accept another body into its endless depths. Those rocks would pierce their obsidian bodies, and blood would stain the foam pink for a few hours. The Grim Reaper would finally have his revenge on the sarcastic assassin if that happened, but it wasn't likely that it would.

In those moments Valek noticed the mare seemed to be thinking, and he could see the frustration written plainly on her breathtaking features. Well, plainly to him. To others it would be next to unseeable, but to him, a master of acting and reading emotions from the tiniest gesture, the smallest movement, and being able to tell what the horse was thinking from that. Just like he could read the thoughts written on a horse's face he could hide his own. He had to extraordinary powers, like some, but there was one advantage he had over those that did. Nothing they could throw at him effected him.

Those that ran electric currents over their coats were touchable to the midnight toned assassin, and the mind readers were always frustrated when they ran up against the wall of his mind. The only thing that might, possibly effect him was elemental control. It would be possible to throw rocks at him, or surround him in water. What it was not possible to do was effect his body, so, say, a horse that controlled water could not control his blood, but they could make it rain on him. He wouldn't be very happy about that, because he didn't particularly enjoy being rained on, at all. In fact, he might consider killing whoever got him wet just because was mad and he probably would kill them if he was bored. Basically, nothing effected his body or mind. Nothing at all. He was untouchable, so untouchable that not even the gods could effect him. Except, of course, Hades, the god that hated him. Although not even Hades could kill Valek with his powers, although the assassin believed the god could effect his hourglass, which he knew the God of Death possessed and tampered with regularly. Strangely enough, Valek had survived all the life threatening situation thrown at him, although there had been a few times he'd been on the very edge of death, and the Grim reaper was standing over him with a malicious smile on his face.

Valek watched the mare lifted her noble head high and arch her neck, so her mane tumbled over the muscles of her neck. He snorted softly at the display of her regal carriage, and held his own handsome head higher than normal, his neck slightly arched and his tail being tugged by the wind. He was a magnificent sight like that, poised atop a cliff, his head held high, his ears pricked and his neck arched. He looked like a noble charger from a cavalry, but there was still something to him that kept him from being approachable. Something about the way he stood, proudly, but a tad defensively, and the way authority swirled in the air around him. He knew who was in charge of the situation, any situation, and he knew it was him. There was also a slightly cocky glint in his blue eyes as he stepped to the right to get a better view of the mare.

"Stallion, I can tell you are strong, for you can block my thoughts and mind from melding with yours, something I have now grown accustomed to. I shall state to you now that I cannot tell you, or anyone why or how I have this ability, for I know not myself.
I must only say that I stand here on the edge of oblivion for reasons which battle my mind and try my soul." the mare's words were precise, and lyrical. As if she had practiced them many times over. Valek wondered if perhaps she had, or maybe she knew how to speak her mind without a flaw in her voice. He inhaled the air, taking in her scent, memorizing it for future reference, and decided that this mare was a puzzle that he needed to solve. Maybe he'd even help her understand herself if he did, although that wasn't the reason he was doing so. He was bored, and he needed something to keep him entertained until someone needed a job done. The mare seemed like the perfect thing to keep him busy, the perfect puzzle for him to solve.

"I'm not surprised you cannot meld your mind with mine. None can. My mind is my own," Valek said, adopting a softer, less edged tone. It was warmer than the way he normally spoke, and he knew in that instant that he was going to try to convince her off the cliff edge. Then he'd be able to start figuring her out, but he'd still need all the pieces. So far he had two. He knew that she was a mind reader, someone that instinctively knew the minds of others, and that she was confused about herself, about her power, and that was why she wanted to end her existence. Two thing, two pieces. A good start, but he'd need all the pieces before he could put the puzzle together and unlock whatever secrets she had. That could take months, years even, but it would still be fun. He might even help her out a little.

"Moments like these are moments when a knock from the Dark God himself seems welcome, but you needn't throw yourself off a cliff to die. All that is needed is the right words said to me." Clues interlaced the assassin's words. Clues to who he was, what he was and why he was there. Clues that the mare would figure out if she was intelligent enough. "But those words are rarely said by those who wish to die. Those who hold grudges, those that hate, yes, but rarely ever someone who wishes to die."

"I am known as Ghost, the Ghost Warrior, Death's assistant, but none of which is my name. Those that know that call me Valek, and that is what I am named," Valek said. His tone was still softer and warmer than usual, and he wasn't being at all sarcastic. He was merely speaking the way he would've if he hadn't had the past he did. In riddles, and he did like riddles. Being mysterious was something he rarely ever did, but he loved it. Because he was an assassin it was all stalking, keeping out of site, blending in, then strike. He would be out of the area before anyone knew what was happening, and when the ensuing chaos struck he was already off somewhere else, probably on another job for someone else.

---

Words: 1588
Muse: Better in third person
Notes/Other: Sorry if me switching views confuses you, but I couldn't write from his point of view coherently. It kept coming out making no sense at all.

[Velnias]

Neytiri

Your poison invades the body

Now would be the time, if ever. If I wanted it to be finished. The cliffs lay just beside where I stood, and I could still hear their tumultous roar. I imagined the black, churning waters in my mind and I couldn't help myself. I looked back over my shoulder, the chilled breeze blasting my face, threatening to lift my forelock away. I saw the brackish foam plash up on the cliff wall, and that wasn't all. I couldn't explain it--I wasn't sure if I'd really seen it anyway. But there was a face in the water, horrible and twisted. Its fangs leapt at the rock, breaking shards and sheets off as they fell into the churning ocean. I should have been frightened; I was, but I didn't move. Instead I gazed into its eyes, dark patches of moving water that swirled and frothed. It glared back at me until a large wave came up and tumbled over it, rocking the cliffs. The face was washed away.

I narrowed my crimson eyes into slits, though they still glowed from behind my mask of black mane. I looked t the dark terra, seeing the black stallion again. Still watching me. He couldn't see my eyes, I hoped, but I watched him, too. He was judging me, and I him. We didn't need words; the moments passed silently by, disappearing in the thick, chilled air. It made me shiver, but not from the cold. It was a heavy kind of air, the kind that makes you want to curl up and hide from the thousands of eyes that must be staring at you, invisible. Like something that ws to happen was something that would matter. Like you were facing something great and powerful, maybe Death itself.

This stallion, with the glowing bloodred 'C' marked on his chest, was a precisionist. I could see it in the way he walked. He wasn't delicate or dainty; but he was efficient. He had a purpose. For a moment I was glad I wouldn't be dealing with some lopsided airhead, because if anything, that would be the last kind of person that could help me. This stallion, in a general sense, was well built. Of course, though, whatever I'd pieced together wouldn't do all that much good without hearing him speak. People said the key to someone's soul was their eyes, and it was true, but I also believed it was important to listen to how he spoke. What he said. How he thought. He looked like he was figuring me out, like a puzzle, from the way his brow was just slightly furrowed, his eyes piercing. Good luck with that, I silently thought to myself.

"I'm not surprised you cannot meld your mind with mine. None can. My mind is my own," he said in a deep voice. It rasped to my ears in the wind's voice, but I heard it plain enough. "Moments like these are moments when a knock from the Dark God himself seems welcome, but you needn't throw yourself off a cliff to die. All that is needed is the right words said to me. But those words are rarely said by those who wish to die. Those who hold grudges, those that hate, yes, but rarely ever someone who wishes to die." And now, he'd try to save me, make me walk away from the death that would come if I stood here much longer. I was quiet, still, letting the breeze whip my tail around my thick legs.

"You want to rescue me, I think. But what token is there for you?" I watched him, my ears pricked to catch tiny fragments of his deep voice and piece them together in the blowing wind. Then, I thought about what he'd said to me. "How do you know the Dark Lord?" I asked. I sensed there was an old tension when Hades' name was spoken by the stallion. But I could only feel it because the emotion had left his body and traveled to me with his spoken words, which concluded a very powerful connection to Hades, indeed. And then, I realized. "You aren't...afraid of death? You've seen it, haven't you?" And then, I realized something more. Something about the stallion, a piercing thought made me shudder, though it didn't come from him. In a whispered voice, I said, "You've...caused it before, haven't you?" I shut my eyes when a blast of stark cold wind hit my face, then opened them again when my forelock settled back down. The wind tugged at my back, and his mysterious words tugged at my mind. I tried to listen further.

"I am known as Ghost, the Ghost Warrior, Death's assistant, but none of which is my name. Those that know that call me Valek, and that is what I am named." It was different the way he spoke, but interesting. I replied, "And so it is death that has brought you here, Valek? Death has brought you many things, many names. But it has given you a false life...you are known for things that you wish you weren't. And you wish...you wish to be normal. The God of Death isn't too kind of you, nor you of him, but you have made a profession of death and are called by that name." I stared into his deep, dark eyes.

"I, myself, am known by no names at all, Valek. I have none; I need none. But the one soul that knows me is myself, and I'm not certain very well so, but I call myself a name, Neytiri."Oh, how I never could have known that today, tonight, whenever it was, I would meet an assassin. A mystery, an enigma, a puzzle, a laborer that made Death his slave. But I was a slave to death now; weren't we all? In the end, it would take our souls and hold us forever. Nothing to do that would stop it. And then, this Valek would be a slave to the Dark God that he seemed to feel so much in conflict with. But still, Death could do odd things to us. I, too, felt a strong pull of sorts when I spoke the god's name. Maybe it was in his power, the name. I knew that a name certainly had great power, greater than many other bonds. Maybe Valek's name would hold so much power that it would rescue him from the point at which a soul must meet death. As for me, I felt like I had died already.

My poison invades the mind

words: 1120
muse: Very good.
notes: Sorry I didn't finish 'till now.

[Velnias]

OOC: Done! And only a little behind your post, as far as length goes.

[Deleted]

Valek

You really don't know me very well

The trembling cliffs did not scare the black stallion, it did not threaten him, or make him nervous. Nor did the mare standing in front of him, standing in silence that few could ever achieve, silence that Valek had mastered. Yet words were not needed to fill the gap between the two horses with onyx hides, no sounds were uttered to draw them closer. The silence conveyed all that could be spoken in its strange way, and words were needed not for them to understand each other as well as two strangers ever could.

And what words could be spoken on the edge of a precarious, dangerous cliff? Words of advice, words of wisdom, words of experiances in the past. Words to convince, words to kill, words to take your breath away. Words that sent some to their deaths, and others to a happier life. What words could a horse such as Valek speak? He was the one who sent horses to the Dark God, Hades, before they were due to walk with the Lord of Death. He was the Bringer of Death, the Death Artist and the Ghost Warrior. He was a master assassin, but at the same he was also a soldier, fighting in his own private battle. He was so many things, yet somehow only one. He was cold and sweet, sarcastic and flattering, merciless and guilty at all he'd done. He was a killer, a assassin, but all he wanted to do was walk the earth as himself. As Valek.

For the moment it was impossible, as the mare was speaking, her lyrics soft and melodic. Obsidian ears swivelled their attention to her, so not to miss a single word dropping from her onyx lips. He answered none of her questions as her mind linked the clues in his unusually eloquent speech. First that he knew Hades, next that he had seen horses die before. Oh, had he seen horses die before. So many that his ebony coat should've been died red with the blood of those who had died in front of him, most of them his victims. His targets. His marks. Those that he killed without remorse or mercy. Those that he was hired to kill, to destroy, to assassinate. That was him. Valek, the assassin. Valek, the trained killer. Could he never just be Valek? Could he never be his own horse? Or was he always to have a descriptor tagged to the end of his name? Valek this, Valek that. Fear him for all his evil sins of the past, present and future. Curse him for who he is and all that he stands for. Death.

The whispered words were exactly what the assassin expected to hear next, and her recation to them was nothing ou of the usual. "You've...caused it before, haven't you?" Everyone realised that in the end, that he was the reason for the death of more than nyone could truly understand, and that, although he never made it visible, he felt guilt for every life he had ended, and still he killed. There was no remorse for what he did, but for each foal that died because it had no mother and every herd that was killed because there was no stallion to the protect the mares he hated himself for who he was and for he had to do to survive. Hades had every right to hate Valek for all he was and all that he stood for. He gave Death a bad name. But he had no choice, no choice at all. It was the path he had to take, the path that had led to every and any place across the lands that horses roamed. Th path Fate had spun for him, and one he couldn't ignore.

"And so it is death that has brought you here, Valek? Death has brought you many things, many names. But it has given you a false life...you are known for things that you wish you weren't. And you wish...you wish to be normal. The God of Death isn't too kind of you, nor you of him, but you have made a profession of death and are called by that name." Words, soft, understanding, and ones that told his soul, floated from her lips to his swivelling ears. Oh, how right she was. Hades wasted no love on the assassin, and him none on the Lord of the Dead. Their's was a relationship of hatred, and nothing else. There was no love between the mortal and the god, and if they ever met while Hades walked in his mortal form it would be certain that thye would fight, and one of them would die, but only one of them forever.

The mare's lyrics continued, soft, almost whispered, but Valek caught every word that dropped from her tongue. "I, myself, am known by no names at all, Valek. I have none; I need none. But the one soul that knows me is myself, and I'm not certain very well so, but I call myself a name, Neytiri." Neytiri.. the assassin repeated in his mind, and his sapphire blue eyes became thoughtful. What a unique name. Neytiri. He wondered where she had come across such a name, and how she had named herself. The power in one's name was strong, and once a name was known it was hard to unknow. Which was why Valek very often kept his name to himself, chosing instead to go by the names he had told the mare, Neytiri, before telling her his own, true name. Ghost, the assistant of Death. His alias, his other self. The one that was cold, sarcastic and uncaring. The side of him that most horses saw, but not her. Not Neytiri. She had met him as he truely was, as the sensitive, caring stallion with a fascination for riddles, puzzles and mysteries, instead of the assassin Valek. She hadn't seen him by cold and sarcastic, but he knew she would if she stayed around him. It was inevitable that he would eventually have to slip into that self, into his mask. His stone mask.

"There is no love lost between me and Hades, as you guessed, but that's merely trivial. There is no love in my job, and there is no reason to love. Why should I, if I'm only to turn around and kill whom that I love? Love is not part of an assassin's life, it isn't part of my life." Valek rarely spoke so much about his life, rarely hinted so much about his past, but Neytiri, she made him loosen up and speak his mind rather than carefully choose his next words as to not reveal what couldn't be revealed about himself. She made him feel comfortable, and relaxed, but he also felt on guard and he knew that if the cliffs were to crumble it'd be her he saved, not himself. He could feel it, in himself, that she had things in life she still needed to experiance. Love, for one, but also the happiness and joy of just being alive. Things Valek hadn't felt since he was barely a stallion, since before his hooves were set on the path they were now stuck to, but he had experianced them, and, over his travels, he had found peace and joy on occasion. Never love, because, as he had told her, an assassin could not love, not when he might have to turn around one day and kill the one he loved.

"I would ask why you're here, Neytiri, but I can guess, and my guess is good enough for me. What I can't understand is the mysteries about you." In one moment the black stallion changed from a myterious, sensitive stallion to, well, Valek. Dancing around a subject with eloquent speeches and stories of his past was something Valek found infuriating, but, for that time with Neytiri, he had found himself being someone he had not been for a very long time, and it slightly scared him. Perhaps that was the reason he flicked from that horse to his normal direct self. Perhaps it was because that moment, atop the cliff, with the mysteries of two horses so closely linked to Death, had ended, and he had become himself again. Or perhaps his slip up, with him almost saying something about himself he could never tell, had jolted him back to himself. Who knew?

"Death masters all, but only conquers those that allow it to," Valek murmered, and his words were lost in the whistling of the wind. Those words that his father had spoken to him when his brothers had been killed, right before his father had chased him from his home, his life, everything he knew. I need to stop speaking without thinking. Valek thought, shaking his head quickly. It could lead to trouble, and I'm the one figuring out this mare, not her figuring out me. She can't know anything about me that shouldn't be known. And my past is one of those things. Still, perhaps telling her something could make her open up and tell me about herself. The thoughts whirled in his head, and he kept his eyes on the ground. There was a puzzle to Neytiri, one that he wanted to solve, but one that he needed the key to, a key he didn't have. Get her to talk, and keep her talking. All horses open up about their pasts eventually.

What a plan. It was so simple, so easy. It probably wouldn't work, but it was the best thing Valek could think up without telling her everything about him, something he was never going to do. His past was off limits, always, even to himself. The bloodshed and horror in it was too much for even the assassin with a blood darkened soul. A stuck to the underside of his eyelids as he blinked, and he almost flinched. Red splatters on sparkling white. Blood melting powdery snow. Black hides stained crimson, crimson like the snow. Stomachs torn open, throats slashed. Lives ended. And the blood, all the blood. The blood on his hooves, the blood on his soul, the blood in his mind. His brothers, his three brothers. Lucas, Raden, Alexi. Dead. He opened his eyes, and a tears welled in them. He blinked them abck and snorted shakily. His brothers, killed, dead. His first sight of blood, his first taste of death.

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Words: 1746
Muse: Wow...
Notes/Other: Oh, poor Valek. *hugs* You gotta feel sorry for him.

[Deleted]

OOC(All done Ruffy! Hope you like)

[Velnias]

OOC : OoooHHH!! It reminds me so much of the Book Thief and Death and the story and some parts in it and his lines and Valek sound just like this character in the Hangman's Daughter...

...and I know ex-ACtly what I'm going to write! Ooh...I'm excited!

Maybe you should put me in one of them fancy straightjackets.

[Velnias]

Neytiri

From charred veins that spill blue-black blood

He heard my words at first. He didn't shift, flinch, gape, or gawk. It was as if he expected them. He himself knew he caused Death. That he caused Death to come to each place a spirit took its last breath. Called Death to reach down and lift each soul's soft, pale energy from its body and return it to the warmth of Himmel in Death's arms. Yes, he knew it and he didn't. He knew Death, he'd seen it. Death had seen him and Death was one who didn't like to be seen. He came and left, never enjoying staying too long. Invisible, impartial. I watched him stand there on the rock. Valek, so strong and yet so powerful, and yet, his shoulders were worn from carrying the world's burdens on them. As were mine.

I took steps, small but decisive, towards him. A few, only enough to prove I didn't doubt or think twice. That I wouldn't back down. My steps were slow but not cautious, my hidden eyes gleamed but not in fear. Not even in anger. If Valek was depicted as the face of Death by so many, even the hidden face that showed itself only in the dark corners and crumbling cliffs, what had I to fear? Others could fear him, others could fear Death. I didn't need to. Death was not cruel, or rude, or biased, or mean spirited. It could even be kind, patient, but never nice. Only fair. Death was the fairest thing; and yet, so many seemed to have painted him swathed in gruesome black with the spirit reaping scythe grasped always in his hands. No, Death was never that. Death was invisible; it came, and was gone. If anything, if was peace. Nothing to fear, nothing to shame. Not Valek's spirit, either. He wanted to be free of the burden. He wanted to be a true, kind being. He'd taken up a job not even he wanted to attend for all his life. He just wanted to step away, and let Death do his own job. It was his trade, but the trade was not his. Not in his heart, it seemed.

Valek's ears pricked softly, grasping every word I had said. His eyes were a mess of many things, grieving and pondering at the same time. "There is no love lost between me and Hades, as you guessed, but that's merely trivial. There is no love in my job, and there is no reason to love. Why should I, if I'm only to turn around and kill whom that I love? Love is not part of an assassin's life, it isn't part of my life." My heart inside me, the heart I hadn't known existed until this second, swelled. Then its beating was faint and seemed to disappear again. I wondered for a fleeting moment if it was even still there. But that thought was snatched away by the fleeting wind, as my next words almost were. "You don't fear it. Love. There are some that say Fear is the greatest enemy of Love. You don't fear it, but you exclude yourself from it. It's not a selfish thing. Rather shameless, actually." I watched him carefully, the one who'd been called an assassin by so many. Undoubtedly, by each one whose blood was spilled on his face. Unflinching, I stood before Valek. Not Valek the assassin, not Valek the killer. Valek. "Sometimes Love and Death must be rescued from each other's bonds. But sometimes, they need each other." I watched him carefully. Answering his riddles with puzzles, I wondered if he would hear and listen. Of course, they were two entirely different things; to hear, and to listen. I wanted to see which would come to him first.

He asked of my past, next. Strong words, and curious. Yet he spoke them with an air of dignity, of finality, of skepticism, of simplicity. And yet, so complex. I asked myself, then, if he meant to block out everything that tried to affect him in the way of magic, or if it was something that came naturally and was there always. I wished I could step inside his mind. Step inside and explore through it, feel what he felt. But out of respect, I didn't. I didn't try. I knew the power one must give over to allow another to enter your very thoughts. Once I had entered, I could stay as long as was needed. There was such power in that, power that no one should have. They always spoke about how, once something is in your mind, no one can take it from you. But I could. Maybe it was my burden so that no one else would be forced to carry it. And what a price it cost me.

I didn't answer Valek. I sensed once, before he had spoken at first, that being silent and understanding offered more peace and explanation than any words could give. I had practiced that art for as long as I could remember. I remember... And I stood softly on the ground, quiet. I let the wild whip of the wind speak in place of me, let it engulf me. My silence could say more than I ever could hope to tell, if only someone put their ear to the wind and listened for it. My eyes watched the dark horse, seeing his lips move and murmur something. My great, velvet ears pricked and as the words were caught in the wind I reached out after them, beckoning. They settled in my grasp, as my ears strained to listen for them. I paused, seeing the solemn look on Valek's face. Those words, he had spoken for himself. I let them go, let them blow away in the wind. I couldn't be sure if respect was something many others gave, but those words were Valek's. From his lips, for only his ears.

At that moment, I felt the faint hum of my pulsing heart. It was only the third time I'd ever heard it, and the second whilst in the company of Valek. It captivated me, and I closed my glowing eyes to hear it's grieving pulse. It beat once, then once again, and faded. Faded into the crash of the waves that were behind me now, and faded into the wind that tore over the face of the cliffs, wearing it away, groping at its surface. My ears droned with its screams but I gazed at Valek. Wisdom wasn't something I would expect to find in a stallion, but it proved to me that one who'd spilt the blood of many didn't need to be shamed. Not Valek; he was nobler than so many others. I didn't even know how I thought this, but the thought appeared in my mind, fresh and spectacular. I knew it was true. It didn't matter who ever heard or didn't hear my thoughts. Valek had asked me about my past; I had left the same question unspoken to him.

"We all want answers, don't we? I have none for myself, or for you. Words see me in another way."

Suddenly, the greatest inception of a thought appeared in my mind. I formed it into words as my lips shuddered to speak it. An answer to Valek's every question, and maybe the answer to some of my own.

"Even Death has a heart. It beats forever and never. That is his mystery."

I sighed, my eyes closing and the world churning like frothy waves in my head.

"My heart never seems to beat, but I know it always must. Mustn't it? I haven't heard it beat in the longest time..."

My dying heart beats its final rhythm

OOC : Your turn. Haff fun!
Words : 1304 (could've done better...but it would ruin the suspense!)