[[because.i.can]]

[s o y ღ]

becauseican

hello, darling.

The stallion stood, letting the ground shake softly below his sensitive feet. His ears were pricked curiously forward, looking at the large whole in the ground. He'd seen nothing like it in his whole entire life, and was intriuged. Leo carefully stepped forward, edging near the rim of of it. He carefully peered down into the deep abyss of nothingness.
How cool.
He wondered what would happen if he pushed a horse down into it. He had no doubt they'd die; but would it be painful? Would he hear their scream rising up from the depths of hell? Maybe it was the portal to hell. If so, should he try and venture down into it? Once more his head appeared over the edge, studying the hole. It was black. Completely dark. Leo flicked his tail once then backed away from the edge. Yeah, right. Like he'd risk something as valuable as his life just to get one simple answer. He'd risk another horse's life. Maybe a light... maybe some foolish horse that decided they'd like to come and see the stallion. A dark laugh floated out of his mouth but was lost in the endless steam that shrouded the area. Surely someone would come; he was like some sort of magnet that attracted horses. Especially vunerable ones. Leo looked back towards the edge for a third time, wondering if he'd push a mare down there. There were only so many of them in the world--did he want to put their population in jeopordy?
Well, if there was a shortage, he'd fix that. A smile curled his lips up at the corners evilly. Maybe he'd just kill all the colts that were born, so he wouldn't have to deal with them when they were older.
Oh, if he were king of the world, things would be good.

He let himself imagine his own little fantasy, in which he ruled everything. Humans would bow down and gather him food, the tastiest and rarest of fruits and vegetables. His coat would be kept sparkling; in perfect condition. He'd be groomed every morning, and he'd have a special place where only he could go. It would be tucked away some where, but high up, so he could rule his kingdom. Nothing would be hidden from him. The stallions and those other domesticated horses who dared to call themselves males, though they didn't have a chance of getting a mare pregnant, would protect everyone from the other hostile animals. They'd respond to Leo's words like they were programmed to do it. They'd attack others or each other, so Leo's hooves wouldn't be bloodied if he thought someone had outlived themself. The colts would be brought up by the old mares, so they could fight for Leo when they were older. The fillies would be treated kindly until they were old enough. Even Leo thought that force breeding a filly would be unright. Those sick stallions who enjoyed it were truely disgusting--Leo felt no need to keep that in. If any stallion in their right mind thought that mating with babies was fun, Leo would have nothing to do with them. He did like defenseless creatures, but children were too defenseless. They'd be much more fun when they were older.
And all those mares... yes, they'd all but worship him. He could see it, so close... almost real.
Blood bay laughed, trotting away from the hole. Yeah, right. He could never be a King of anything--responsibility had failed him. He'd be gone from the position in three days flat.

But, as he wandered away, a dark mood shadowed his face. Leo was used to getting what he wanted. Just a little bit ago, he'd wanted a mare. And someone had had the nerve to stand in his way.
The stallion was almost hissing as he thought of that moonlit night, when he approached the twosome, as confident as ever. It had been going pretty well, it seemed. But for some unheard of reason, that palomino had thought, 'Hey! Let's see how ticked off we can make Leo tonight before we get ourselves killed!' Quarter horse's eyes narrowed on nothing in particular, imagining what he could've done to that stallion. He'd had plenty of fights in his days--why hadn't he fought with Ruben? Maybe he'd be dead now, and Leo would've gotten what he wanted. That black mare. Whose name was unimportant right now.
Hopefully he and Ruben would meet again.
"What kind of name is Ruben anyway?"

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[..!INZ.z]

In his wisdom, Ruben had decided to have a little wander. He was curious to know what had become of the rest of Dreaver, and, after threading his way through uprooted trees and great stretches of muddy floodland, he had found himself here.
Ruben had never been in Sezlan particularly. He remembered it as a pasture, with sweeping green grasses and a wide blue sky; and, yes, as he clambered to the summit of a ridge, it seemed much unchanged.

But then he looked a little closer. His sharp eyes picked out a jagged fissure, running the length of the fields; it splintered the grasses in two, and from its depths great belches of steam wafted. The palomino could not admit to having seen anything like it before, but vaguely his logic surmised one of the fabled earth-tremors must have rocked Sezlan, as it had so many other lands, and left this gaping hole in its stead.

Picking up a trot, Ruben shifted his weight to his hindquarters slightly as he began to descend the hill. There was little life in Dreaver - they had all been driven away by the wind and water and shaking ground, no doubt - but he knew that soon the population would multiply. He would enjoy this quiet while it lasted, but he wasn't convinced he wished to remain when other horses began to appear: it would feel... strange, so many unfamiliar faces in a place where he had once known everyone.

Abruptly, Ruben was drawn from his scattered musings. A scent lingered in his nostrils, signaling that he had had the misfortune to stumble upon one of the only other inhabitants of this new Dreaver. He slowed, considering.
It should have been any old scent, a random tag belonging to an unknown horse. And yet... Yet, it was familiar. Despite himself, Ruben groaned. Wherever he went, he only ever seemed to bump into horses he knew or vaguely remembered.

The palomino was about to resign himself to a tedious greeting and a subsequent boring conversation about 'old times', but at that moment his eyes alighted upon the powerful form of a stallion, a Quarter Horse, and with a shiver of excitement mixed with repulsion Ruben remembered just who this horse was.

A starry night wavered back to him, distorted as if viewed beneath water. A mare was at his side, this stallion before him. The palomino recalled the old surge of hatred. Forcers were the worst of all Darks, and perhaps this example of dogdirt was worst of them all, namely because he was so pathetic. Ruben had been loathe to fight him back in Tali Bon, because he had still possessed a sliver of what it meant to be Light.

That had waved goodbye some time ago.

"You called," words drifted from his lips before he had even contemplated them fully, and Ruben stepped forward.

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[s o y ღ]

becauseican

watch out, stallion. i hold grudges.

The stallion walked farther away from the whole, just in case some horse had the nerve to try and push Leo down into it. Blood bay held his head in an instinctively proud way even though he wanted to let his neck droop and kick the ground. Even though he was a sort of scum, he had some pride. Even though he was willing to drop lower than the lowest creature you could think of, he had a way of walking that let others know that--at least in his mind--he was important. That maybe he was the king of something, that maybe he had a whole empire just around the bend. It let him be whoever he wanted to be. If he just toned down the self-centeredness a little bit, he could come off as a neutral, or even a light. To those who he'd never met, of course.
Those he had always had that strong feeling of hatred towards him, some stronger than others. It was probably because of the crushing of spirits he did at the end of most encounters, though. h e l i k e d b e i n g t h i n g s h e w a s n ' t . He liked to think that he was being himself in the times he was alone, though sometimes it felt like he was putting on a show in his mind for himself. Throwing in sarcasm and witty-yet-crude comments in thoughts, just for Leo. It was as if he couldn't take off the costume, even when the audience had left.
It was slightly disconcerting at times. Not that he'd ever let another living thing have a flicker of how it puzzled him often. He didn't really want to find himself; he didn't believe in any of that garbage. He just wanted to sort away the masks so he could see what he really was. Just once.
Most of the time, though, he couldn't care less who he was or wasn't. He just loved living his life, because of how wonderful he thought it was. Leo's definition of wonderful and most other's definitions were very, very different.

Black-stockinged legs continued at his cocky walk, an air of concietment lingering in where he'd been. Leo was stepping it up a notch from the usual, as he sensed another's presence. Where they were, he couldn't yet tell. But his trained senses alerted him they were there. All Leo really knew was that they were an equine. They could be young, old, mare, stallion, even one of those despiciable geldings... He'd find out soon enough. As he neared the place where the other--wait, stallion. Yes, he was definately a stallion--was, he got an odd sensation. The scent wasn't... new. It sort of threw him for a moment, as he wasn't used to coming across old equines. He only stayed in a place for a limited amount of time before running off to the next. The only horse he was familiar with was Kaylee, his half sister, and he knew for sure she wasn't here. That fat mare was far too lazy to make it all the way over here. And to think, she had mustang blood running through her veins.
With a snort and a shake of his head, he stopped. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a golden pelt, and decided it was a palomino. Now, what palomino stallions did he know?
Well, he could think of at least one. That damn Ruben.
Anger alerted him, senses extending to the max. If he wasn't careful, he'd pick a fight before he'd had any fun messing with his mind.
Count to ten, Leo... Calm down... Stallion told himself that in his mind, then took a deep breath and washed any expression off his face.

"'Lo, Ruben." Civil enough. Inside, he was writhing with pain of being diplomatic to this beast. "What brings you here?"
This couldn't really be how lights talked. So, maybe Ruben would see through him and Leo would have that much more fun.

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[..!INZ.z]

Ruben wasn't quite sure what he thought about Darks any longer. He hated them, naturally. But the old fear, the bedtime story of go to sleep, or the Darks will get you, the tattoo that had been beaten into his view of the world since he was capable of having one... They were just not there anymore. Darks were no longer the fabled enemy, the monsters to avoid and tremble beneath.

Leo was a prime example. Sure, he was big and muscular and slavering; he smirked a lot and he liked to think he was in touch with the Devil, or whatever pisspot Darks believed they heralded from these days. He wasn't Ruben's favorite person in the world. In fact, the palomino detested him with a passion, but he did not hate him with the terrified desperation that a Light probably should.

Leo was nothing particularly interesting, and nothing to be particularly afraid of. There were ten thousand perfect pretty copies of him in the world, and though Ruben would hate to break it to the stallion, he was nothing special.
Perhaps the palomino should have realised he had a bit of an obsession with Darks. Perhaps it should have seemed strange how he felt such derisive pity, then proceeded to attack any satanic beastie that got in his way. In essence, he had become as bad as the Darks he sought to eradicate.

But none of that would occur to Ruben. Not at that particular moment, at any rate.

Like a hawk Ruben dissected Leo's every move as he turned to face him. Eyes remained impassive, but all the while they were flicking from one point of Dark's frame to another, seeking out any injuries or soft points. A chuckle rattled his throat, though he hadn't found anything very amusing. The palomino jerked his head fractionally, slivers of creamy forelock stinging his eyes as he moved.

"So polite, Leo. Don't tell me you've turned over a new leaf?"

[/blockquote]

[s o y ღ]

becauseican

ruben is my enemy.

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Leo simply swished his tail against his hocks again, having nothing else to do, say. Think. His patience wasn't all that spectacular, and he was going to snap soon. He didn't think he'd be able to stand this polite thing for very much longer. Blood bay dipped his head once in response to nothing, then shifted his weight ansily. He wanted something; and he wanted it very bad. He wanted to see Ruben dead. He wanted to see the stallion laying on the ground, broken and bleeding. Most of all, he wanted it to be his own fault. Leo wanted to kill that stallion.
He wanted to rip that pretty coat of gold off him, and expose the weak and unprotected organs that lay below. He wanted to break every bone in his body, twice. Leo was feeling particularly violent today. Which wasn't when he was at his most dangerous, though. At least then you knew to be on your toes just incase the stallion tried to knock you to the ground then crush you with his thousand pound body. It was when he was actually in a good mood you had to watch you; he could turn around when you thought you were having a good time and kill you within a minute. The element of surprise, he liked to call it. Yeah.
Something like that.

"Ah, Ruben, you must tell me what is so funny." The strain was almost audible in his voice, but not quite yet. Still, Leo didn't know how long he could stay like this, being nice to this despicable light. But nevertheless, he faked a smile and inched closer to Ruben. Leo could tell that the other liked Leo just as much as Leo liked him, and knew that one of them was going to snap. One of them would lose it and release all pent-up anger and anxiety and just plain energy on the other, and it would be a fight. Unless Leo were to turn and run now, but where was the fun in that? No, he'd much rather kill.
Or at least injure the other. Stallion was very sure of himself; and had no doubt he'd survive whatever came at him next. He was overly confident, but sometimes confidence can be a good thing. It was better than doubting himself, better than thinking he couldn't do it and letting the foe see how unsure he was. No; Leo was not an indecisive fellow. The black muzzle and maroon head were heightened as he stepped forth again, steadily closing up the gap. Maybe he'd be the one to lose it and attack.
A new leaf? Hell, no. Would he tell Ruben he had? No, he'd rather do something else.

"As much as I'd like to say yes and continue being a different me, I think that wouldn't quite work out. No, I haven't turned over a new leaf. Yes, I would like to hurt you. You thwarted my prize away from me, you know." Leo didn't feel like thinking enough to play and twist with Ruben's mind. Instead, he took up a run to close the few strides between them, and, without stopping, lowered his head and bucked at him, hoping one of his hooves would collide with Ruben.
So, he would be the one to start the fight.
Leo slowed to a stop about ten feet away and stopped, looking through his forelock.
"No, Ruben, you started this that night under the starry sky. I'm just ending it." It was a whisper; the other would have to strain hard to catch it if he wanted to.

[ooc] sorry; owed you this for quite some time. x) luff ya! [/ooc]

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[..!INZ.z]

Ruben felt his blood quicken. Here was an opportunity for him to finally lash out, to be rid of all that pent-up anger and frustration he had stoppered for so long. He was not feeling quite so pathetic any longer; the urge to bury his head and mope about what had been was steadily fading. But in its place had manifested a nervous energy, a tautening of his heartstrings, a shivering of his muscles. He had to get rid of it somehow; and then maybe, just maybe, he would be able to let this bitter, wretched obsession go.

And now that it came to it, the palomino could see no better way of exerting himself than attacking this pretty little stallion.

He considered Leo's words; for a moment, he failed to comprehend them. Then he vaguely remembered spontaneously laughing, and his pale lips cracked into a grin. "Private joke." If he did not know better, Ruben would have thought that the stallion before him sounded a little... strained. Surely a few simple niceties weren't putting him under pressure? Well, that was always the way with Darks. They spent so much time cackling that they lost the art of conversation.

The Dark inched closer. Ruben's ears twitched back, but he made no other move. Maybe that was a mistake. Speed was, after all, not one of his strengths. In fights the palomino had to rely on his stocky, powerful stature, and trust in winning with brute force. He was relatively confident in being as strong as Leo, but he was sure the Dark could be quick, much quicker than himself - and that could pose a problem or two.

He could contemplate it later. With any luck his sheer determination would drive this creature into the dirt.

More words. Quite the eloquent one, wasn't he?
"Oh but honey, I thought we were just beginning to understand each other," Ruben exclaimed, beginning to enjoy himself. He threw up his head somewhat arrogantly, crescent-moons rimming the spheres of brown. Prize? Ha. Weren't prizes something one earned? "Well, I'm sure you found another one," the palomino consoled amiably. "And besides-"

He got no further with whichever insult he was about to toss out. Leo's head was down and, in a flurry of movement and dust, had pivoted and sent his hooves arching toward Ruben's face. The palomino rocketed backwards, head high and eyes rolling; the brunt of Leo's blow glanced wide, but the tip of one hoof snagged at the corner of Ruben's mouth, drawing a glistening red tear as it went.

Immediately his tongue ran sharp with the taste of blood, but the stallion knew it was nothing life-threatening and ignored the wound. Even so, his eyes simmered and he looked back at the Dark with a stare of semi-dementure. "The Stew."

He turned and ran; a sliver of gold in an endless green sea.

We'll see who ends this.

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