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03-08-2015, 06:07 AM
I'LL BE YOUR NUMBER ONE WITH A BULLET
a loaded god complex, cock it and pull it
a loaded god complex, cock it and pull it
It was magic, he just didn't know what kind it was.
He'd felt it tingling underneath his skin, felt it rippling like a muscle spasm and tickling his sides. It had begun slowly, growing steadily until he was infuriated, nearly insane from the need to know just what was going on in his head. He'd paced the ground, run from the Throat and toward the woods- not the woods with the Rotunda today, where he seemed to have all his adventures, but new woods, darker woods, woods that sang of a certain mysterium and echoed the call of the magic in his veins. The forest smelled like oldness and secrets, and the boy was sure that somewhere in these trees, he would find the perfect one to scratch that itch which had been plaguing him for an entire two whole days.
Hours later, as he rubbed his barren shoulder against yet another trunk, Zèklè had to admit that he was still as stumped as ever. He had tried to use his magic like Ma did, making things move or making sparks or anything, but so far absolutely nothing had worked. Small hooves kicked at the moist earth as the little colt huffed his growing aggravation, trying to ignore the rumble in his stomach and the fact that he was probably lost. He was tired, and sad- sad because he really, really wanted to be able to bring his knowledge home, sad because now he would have to ask Ma instead of showing her, because he wasn't big enough to figure it out himself.
He wanted to stop being a baby, to prove that he was growing up. Yet for all that, Zèklè could barely suppress the urge to simply sit down right there and cry.
And to top it off, he was definitely lost.
Tears welled up within sunbeam eyes, but the lightning-back boy would not let them fall. He shook his head, inhaling sharply, and paused because something smelled different. On top of the standard scent of trees and dirt was another, more familiar scent: that of a horse, a horse like him, who if nothing else would be company in the darkening woods. Zèklè had not yet learned to fear strangers, and it was with a trusting heart that he changed his course, eager for the possibility of distraction from his woes. Maybe it would be a friend- or even better, someone who could help him figure out what his magic was!
He found her lying beside a pool, and froze before barging into the scene, displaying a rarely seen sense of decorum. She looked kind of familiar, but also incredibly foreign, a bizarre mix of earth and horse which Zèklè could only stare at, agape. Was she a spirit, like Ma had talked about once, more plant than horse and filled with magic? Was she even real? Perhaps a cleverly built statue, but no, she was moving, her head still swaying and as the boy watched she built creatures from the earth, sending them cavorting around the pool.
Coolest. Thing. Ever.
He shifted, a twig snapping loudly beneath his hoof. The expression on his youthful face was candid amazement with a touch of awe, though disappointment still softened his impassioned glare. "Hi!" Carefully Zèklè stepped toward the pond, sniffling loudly before assaulting the girl with a barrage of shaky questions. "Did'ja make those? Are you a spirit? What's your name?"
Curious, he walked closer, lowering his head to inspect the mobile earth. "They're really cool!" the boy declared, looking up at the filly with the quiet beginnings of his trademark grin. Even if he didn't figure out his magic, just wait until Ma heard about this!
@[Isopia]
He'd felt it tingling underneath his skin, felt it rippling like a muscle spasm and tickling his sides. It had begun slowly, growing steadily until he was infuriated, nearly insane from the need to know just what was going on in his head. He'd paced the ground, run from the Throat and toward the woods- not the woods with the Rotunda today, where he seemed to have all his adventures, but new woods, darker woods, woods that sang of a certain mysterium and echoed the call of the magic in his veins. The forest smelled like oldness and secrets, and the boy was sure that somewhere in these trees, he would find the perfect one to scratch that itch which had been plaguing him for an entire two whole days.
Hours later, as he rubbed his barren shoulder against yet another trunk, Zèklè had to admit that he was still as stumped as ever. He had tried to use his magic like Ma did, making things move or making sparks or anything, but so far absolutely nothing had worked. Small hooves kicked at the moist earth as the little colt huffed his growing aggravation, trying to ignore the rumble in his stomach and the fact that he was probably lost. He was tired, and sad- sad because he really, really wanted to be able to bring his knowledge home, sad because now he would have to ask Ma instead of showing her, because he wasn't big enough to figure it out himself.
He wanted to stop being a baby, to prove that he was growing up. Yet for all that, Zèklè could barely suppress the urge to simply sit down right there and cry.
And to top it off, he was definitely lost.
Tears welled up within sunbeam eyes, but the lightning-back boy would not let them fall. He shook his head, inhaling sharply, and paused because something smelled different. On top of the standard scent of trees and dirt was another, more familiar scent: that of a horse, a horse like him, who if nothing else would be company in the darkening woods. Zèklè had not yet learned to fear strangers, and it was with a trusting heart that he changed his course, eager for the possibility of distraction from his woes. Maybe it would be a friend- or even better, someone who could help him figure out what his magic was!
He found her lying beside a pool, and froze before barging into the scene, displaying a rarely seen sense of decorum. She looked kind of familiar, but also incredibly foreign, a bizarre mix of earth and horse which Zèklè could only stare at, agape. Was she a spirit, like Ma had talked about once, more plant than horse and filled with magic? Was she even real? Perhaps a cleverly built statue, but no, she was moving, her head still swaying and as the boy watched she built creatures from the earth, sending them cavorting around the pool.
Coolest. Thing. Ever.
He shifted, a twig snapping loudly beneath his hoof. The expression on his youthful face was candid amazement with a touch of awe, though disappointment still softened his impassioned glare. "Hi!" Carefully Zèklè stepped toward the pond, sniffling loudly before assaulting the girl with a barrage of shaky questions. "Did'ja make those? Are you a spirit? What's your name?"
Curious, he walked closer, lowering his head to inspect the mobile earth. "They're really cool!" the boy declared, looking up at the filly with the quiet beginnings of his trademark grin. Even if he didn't figure out his magic, just wait until Ma heard about this!
@[Isopia]
Z è K L è
am i more than you bargained for yet?
am i more than you bargained for yet?
