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01-20-2015, 02:50 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
Everything happened far too quickly for the boy to really comprehend.
First there was the walking. That was hard, but Zèklè did not complain: it was a beautiful day, and he was happy to show Ma how strong he had gotten, how fast he could run. Despite his youth and naivete, he wasn't blind to her disappointment, or oblivious to the way others looked at him because of his lacking wing. Sometimes he wondered why it was taking so long- none of the other foals had to wait like he did. He knew something must be there, because when he tried he could make the muscle in his left shoulder move, just like it did when he opened his wing.
Some nights when Ma wasn't looking he would bite at it, rub at it, plead for his wing to just show up. He would work it until it was raw, the metallic taste of blood rising beneath his teeth, and cry in great, gulping sobs for the gods to make him whole.
But mostly, he didn't let it bother him. It wasn't like any of the other foals could fly yet, anyway.
Then there was the flying. That was so cool, maybe the coolest thing he had ever experienced in his whole life ever. He'd grinned at Ma as he stood on the cloud, leaping and running along its length. "Yeah!" he'd cried, jumping excitedly, one wing extended and sunbeam eyes alight. "I can' wait 'til I c'n fly!"
How proud Ma would be of him then!
Things went downhill after flying, because then there was noise, and people, and most importantly,
d e a t h.
Zèklè followed his Ma through the assembled crowd, peering around her legs to find the source of the conflict. As the voices grew louder and the arguing fiercer the half-child disregarded it all, his rapt attention caught by his first brush with death. The mare was not familiar to him, not at all- why was she lying there, sleeping in all of their midst? Didn't she see that something was going on? The boy frowned, glancing back to his Ma, but she was arguing with a beast of a man, a mountain taller than Gaucho or Tavi or anyone else. The boy frowned, turning back to examine the mare. Maybe they were mad 'cus she wouldn't wake up. Ma got mad at him some mornings, when he was too sleepy to move.
Maybe he could wake the mare up, then everything would be okay.
That was his reasoning when he pushed his nose out toward her belly, hoping to prod the sleeping Grown Up into wakefulness so Ma wouldn't have to argue anymore. The smell of her was the first thing - well, second, after the not moving bit - that wasn't right. And then the lack of sound.
And then the way she felt so cold, and her body simply caved beneath his gentle nudge.
Zèklè jumped back, suddenly afraid, afraid of this mare and these people and this place. He scrambled behind Ampere's legs, whimpering softly. "Ma," he whispered in a trembling voice, "I wanna go home."
But then suddenly there were wings, and screaming and Ma was gone, just like that, and Zèklè the half-child looked around to find himself in a sea of strangers, entirely alone.
First there was the walking. That was hard, but Zèklè did not complain: it was a beautiful day, and he was happy to show Ma how strong he had gotten, how fast he could run. Despite his youth and naivete, he wasn't blind to her disappointment, or oblivious to the way others looked at him because of his lacking wing. Sometimes he wondered why it was taking so long- none of the other foals had to wait like he did. He knew something must be there, because when he tried he could make the muscle in his left shoulder move, just like it did when he opened his wing.
Some nights when Ma wasn't looking he would bite at it, rub at it, plead for his wing to just show up. He would work it until it was raw, the metallic taste of blood rising beneath his teeth, and cry in great, gulping sobs for the gods to make him whole.
But mostly, he didn't let it bother him. It wasn't like any of the other foals could fly yet, anyway.
Then there was the flying. That was so cool, maybe the coolest thing he had ever experienced in his whole life ever. He'd grinned at Ma as he stood on the cloud, leaping and running along its length. "Yeah!" he'd cried, jumping excitedly, one wing extended and sunbeam eyes alight. "I can' wait 'til I c'n fly!"
How proud Ma would be of him then!
Things went downhill after flying, because then there was noise, and people, and most importantly,
Zèklè followed his Ma through the assembled crowd, peering around her legs to find the source of the conflict. As the voices grew louder and the arguing fiercer the half-child disregarded it all, his rapt attention caught by his first brush with death. The mare was not familiar to him, not at all- why was she lying there, sleeping in all of their midst? Didn't she see that something was going on? The boy frowned, glancing back to his Ma, but she was arguing with a beast of a man, a mountain taller than Gaucho or Tavi or anyone else. The boy frowned, turning back to examine the mare. Maybe they were mad 'cus she wouldn't wake up. Ma got mad at him some mornings, when he was too sleepy to move.
Maybe he could wake the mare up, then everything would be okay.
That was his reasoning when he pushed his nose out toward her belly, hoping to prod the sleeping Grown Up into wakefulness so Ma wouldn't have to argue anymore. The smell of her was the first thing - well, second, after the not moving bit - that wasn't right. And then the lack of sound.
And then the way she felt so cold, and her body simply caved beneath his gentle nudge.
Zèklè jumped back, suddenly afraid, afraid of this mare and these people and this place. He scrambled behind Ampere's legs, whimpering softly. "Ma," he whispered in a trembling voice, "I wanna go home."
But then suddenly there were wings, and screaming and Ma was gone, just like that, and Zèklè the half-child looked around to find himself in a sea of strangers, entirely alone.
Z è K L è
am i more than you bargained for yet?
am i more than you bargained for yet?
