To Ask That the Laws of the Universe Be Annulled

On Behalf of a Single Petitioner, Confessedly Unworthy

POSTED: Thu Jul 18, 2019 5:11 pm

His heart thrummed within his chest.

At the edge of Casa di Cavalieri's claim the sun just began to light the sky. The eerie color of morning gripped the world in cool contrast of the colors that were stretching across the clouds. In the grip of one charcoal hand were the reigns of the grullo draft stallion, and in the other was the pallid threads on the nap of the equine's white splash. The timing was perfect, with plenty of daylight for the long day ahead, and Podarok was going to be put to the test.

Darkness couldn't speak a word to Dusk about the trip. The woman would have ensured her company on the small journey. While he didn't mind the idea of taking a day trip with Dusk at all, today was a trial. Podarok had been trained well, tried and stayed true. The Stallion, despite his wanderlust, had learned to work alongside Darkness for both of their benefit. Darkness cared for the beast the best he was able, and the creature would take him home. It gave the Patriarch a distance he did not have before, and with that, the inkling of an idea. He wasn't intelligent enough for Merchantism, but he wanted to bring clothing, tools and items into Casa di Cavalieri for what he was worth. His age, he knew, wouldn't make him a metaled warrior, but he could still learn to provide for them all before his time came.

A deep breath passed through him as the pair moved along the shoreline of the Dampwoods, between the Loch and the Waste. Podarock's hooves were already muddy from the wet ponds and streams the passed through as they moved through the Waste and around the Cobequid bay tendrils of Fundy that reached there. Darkness wasn't going to take any real chance at getting lost, as his family didn't deserve to bare in his absence, so his trail carried on the coastline and around into South shore of Drifter bay.

The sights, the sounds, the ambiance of the neutral territory called like a lost lover to his heart. Many years he wandered, never knowing where he was or where he had been, but such wanderlust was a curse. Where he might have explored for mile, he was lost for months, or years. The terror of searching, of being lost, long outweighed the urging whisper to take the winds and be free again. His family was the only thing his heart wanted. The thought crossed his mind as he brought Podarok to follow an old human trail marked with a green leaf and the numbers one, zero and four. Faint etchings of words, long tattered by the sun and weather, no longer spoke the names of Halifax and Amherst, to which this old road once connected.

Sounds of the coast were masked by the trees as he followed the sure route. Again, he wasn't taking any chances. Simple routes, the images of the turning point markers in his head, and physical landmarks that were hard to forget all paved his way on his short day trip. As the ruined pavement clopped against Podarok's hooves, the trees split to a small alcove of shore. A snort from the stallion reminded the Hushhowl that just as he needed a drink on a warm day, so to did the creature that worked tirelessly to make their journey more steadfast.

Stopping beside the shore, with footpaws muddied nearly to the knees as he jumped off the horse, his eye found the shore. The water seemed fresh. A quick dip of his sooty hand into the refreshing coolness and brought to his own mouth reassured him. Together, Poda and Darkness drank their fill and took a break for the afternoon, as the sun started reaching into it's hottest part of the day. Though he was nervous, with Podarock to help him back home, he was sure he could make it before sun down, if even just to touch the southern shore of Loch Fundy by then.


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POSTED: Thu Jul 18, 2019 9:25 pm

Every fiber of his being was riddled with a fury that could not be expressed by means of word or action, without consequence. The gentle wash of the Pictou behind him couldn't steal the ringing in his ear or the fire in his eye as the shadow of Salsola's southern most edge slipped into the distance. His chest and his head both pulsed with hot blood, and his hackles couldn't settle from the electric current of rage that charged through his skin.

Zetsubou had done it, again. Again!

As his furious, heavy tread march brought him further and further from a judgment call that he was steadily losing the ability to consciously make. That boy would have been more use as a grave in Amherst than a servant in Salsola, and if the cur thought that he could play on the pity that was absent in Salsola, a grave he may very well be. A growl thrummed through him as his gait carried long, solid legs and shoulders bearing heavy armor across the sunflowers. He couldn't go back to Salsola. Not as livid as he was. A hand clenched one of the tall floral stalks and wrenched it from the earth. The verdant staff broke at the root, and heavily scented sunflower water dripped from then hand that squeezed every ounce of life from the plant.

Even as his anger fueled him, he was no fool. A place in the back of his mind called to him. This fantasy world that was slowly stealing every piece of sanity that he'd managed over all these years and the unicorn that pranced there called to him, but he couldn't rid himself of this powerful ire that clawed at his insides.

Instinct wanted blood. An unfed hunger had risen from the deepest part of him, one that not even Sinner could produce in all her failures, short comings and ignorance.

Shaamah wanted Zetsubou dead, and the only thing stopping him were the eyes of the Thistle.

Sloughing Salsola's scent away in his enraged path of destruction through the sunflowers, that almost seemed to turn away from him in his rampage, he aimed for the coast. One trip through the pines and a field of flowers wasn't enough to rid Salsola's stink from him, and brackish water was heavy enough to seal the job. He felt the eyes of the world on him for as long as he could taste the faintest hint of the Thistle Kingdom against his own scent. A mind heavy with one intention, could only be proactive and make space between him and his quarry. Miwa's inane cur. A creature so obtuse that self preservation was held like a knife to his own throat as he waited for someone to put the pressure on it and put him out of his imbecilic misery.

A longer path was taken between the trees adjacent to the highway until trees fell into defunct farmlands brought him through to the pond that marked the final right turn. As he passed on the edge of the overgrown, abandoned road that was littered with cracks that sprouted trees, the shadow of a man and the smell of a horse stole his senses. Malevolent glacier sight landed on the Hushhowl Patriarch form.

As their eyes met, Shaamah did nothing more than look at the pallid man, and return his furious gaze to the direction ahead.


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POSTED: Sun Jul 21, 2019 12:40 am

Heavy, quick steps had caught Podarok's attention. The stallion turned to the break between the trees, ears pitching forward as a startled noise called in the creature's throat. Darkness turned to find the horse growing more and more impatient in place, and rose from the ground. Water dripped from a charcoal hand as he gripped the reigns tightly. Furrowed brows curled on Darkness' features as he looked beyond the equine and to the glimpse of highway that peeked through the brush and boughs.

A beast moved beyond the verdant leaves. He stepped into a clear line of sight, his monstrous height and malevolent aura sinking into the two souls that found him. Shaamah. That was Shaamah.

A fuse was lit within Darkness, and it was a hot, quick burn. The leather reigns slipped from his hand. Podarok danced to the side, uneasy.

Time slipped through the cracks in their aging features. As if suspended in water, an amber eye watched each step carefully. The soft whisper of a breeze moved the hellbeast's hair and clothing and a trace of his movement was burned within his startled expression.

Furious, chilling blue met the milk and honey sights of the Hushhowl, and just as quickly they'd turned away. Not even the inkling of familiarity passed through the venomous monster's visage.

Did that beast not know what had been stolen from Darkness' family?

Incendiary golden eye lit with choler and Darkness had instantly forgotten everything that he had learned to be within Casa's high Fort walls. Charcoal fingers and sooty pads clenched the shirt that bunched on his chest. Hackles lifted as a snarl ripped the look of a gentle father from him. He fit the part of the feral man he'd once been. Before his edges were refined. Before the natural world fell into civility. Wide lunging steps ate up the earth beneath him. His hands tore the soil from the damp embankment and saliva weaved threads between snarling, snapping jaws,” Ты знаешь меня, трус!” His voice tore through the serene world, and explosion of chaos and fury. Sorrow. Betrayal.

Dusk, Borya, and the young lives lost too soon would be avenged today.


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POSTED: Sun Jul 21, 2019 1:47 am

As the alabaster figured clamored up the shallow embankment to the Pond, his heavy Russian call baited the soldier to turn. Shaamah's glare, laced with a thinly lined patience, maintained his forward route. The soldier had plenty else to busy his mind than to deal with the insults he didn't understand or particularly care about, and there wasn't use in looking back into an incident where he could have removed Zetsubou permanently from this world with very minuscule consequence.

Shaamah bet on his own patience that walking away from this old fool would be enough to be rid of him.

The scuffle of feet behind him and the shrill cry of an equine beast in terror, explained well enough that this would not be the case. Directed by the throw of his upper weight, he turned himself about face with one fluid motion. His weight came down on the earth, rippling through the corded muscle on his leg, as he held his ground fast and braced. At 5 yards distance and one intense glare, Darkness stopped in his tracks. Another snarl riddled with words thrown in that throaty tongue.

“Вы взяли их у нас!”

Voice broken in turmoil, the Hushhowl called, but Shaamah's expression did not change. There was no return of that intense fury, as what truly boiled within him could not be spent on the likes of this man. Glacier glare did not show pity for the pain that Darkness endured. Irritation was the only reward Darkness' claim received. Greater choler was the only thing that Shaamah had brewed within the wronged man that stood before him. Darkness was fueled with emotion, and his mind was left to the wayside.

A fool, through and through.

A halo of pallid threads curtained behind Darkness as he lunged forward again, chewing the rotten pavement beneath him into cast stones as he closed the space between them. A spread maw reached to Shaamah's face, but the soldier didn't flinch.

Before tooth or nail could reach him, Shaamah curled back and brought the iron casting of his gauntlet across the length of Darkness' muzzle. Veteran prowess against blind, raw emotion triumphed again,” Be gone, foul cur,” The hum of the warrior's internalized anger spoke over the body that crumbled into the grass. Returning to his intended route, Shaamah moved on, once more, without a second thought and the full understanding that the strike given wasn't lethal.

It was a warning, before all else.


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POSTED: Sun Jul 21, 2019 2:11 am

From the pavement into the overgrowth on the side of the old road, the tall man tumbled. He'd bounced against the earth enough times to feel it completely through him, the air stolen from his lungs and his joints pulsing from the impact. Dazed, he let himself fully feel the earth beneath him. Grass. Stones. Vibrations. Podarok had taken flight and was nowhere to be seen, the only sign that he had been here, was the murmur of hoof beats against the earth. Iron. He could taste iron. Blood.

Balling fists beneath him, he tried not once, but twice to lift himself off of the ground. Pain shot through every inch of him, and he could do nothing more than half rise while frozen in anguish. His spine called out to him. Not once had he been present to a fight in Optime. Never did he think that leaving sword and bow on his horse could have left him so vulnerable. As the wash of pain ebbed, he was able to pull a knee beneath him.

Be gone?

How Darkness wished that the world worked so simply as that.

Teeth clenched as he pressed a growl through the battered ribs, only to be cut short by a whimper. Blood dribbled from his chin, dappling his hands and the green of the grass with a brilliant crimson. Like lightning the fire of pain found his brain from his mouth. One strike had done this? This would have been the moment a smarter man might have counted his losses, but Darkness continued to rise.

There was blood on Shaamah's hands, and those lives belonged to his daughter's own.

“Shie truested yeu,” His voice cracked as he managed to speak through the growing swelling that anchored his jaw,” Yeu caem teu ouhr hoem,” The unfeeling mask of Darkness' inability to explain his heart on his visage was shattering,” Yeu proetectied hier daueghter. Yeu foueght besied hier,” The list went on and on, until Darkness found his feet beneath him. Shaamah had gained Hartt's better judgment only to serve her memory in this way, by taking the lives of their daughter's children and maiming Borya. He couldn't understand any of this. After knowing how wholesome a family could be and everything that it was worth to him, Shaamah did nothing more than tear lives down,” Yeur soen waes geud maen. Beittier dhan yeu coeuld evar be. So yeu woueld keill hiem teu.”

Never had Darkness spoken with such venom on his tongue, and even as his body begged him not to, he charged, again. Over the slope of the ditch and onto the road again, he moved to make Shaamah feel that pain that burned his soul in a way that no mortal injury could.


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POSTED: Sun Jul 21, 2019 3:37 am

Shaamah's steps made more noise in his head than Darkness' accusatory words. How many souls had so foolishly trusted him before? How many brought him into their homes, only for it to be their last moments? To many had he fought beside that he had killed, on his own accord or in the chaos of war, and not a single one of them did he mourn. A soldier through to his purpose, Shaamah would raze the world without discrimination. The sick, the healthy, the young and old. Men. Women. Children. He was not above any deed, and the accusation of such could not puncture thick skin painted with the scars of all those that couldn't imagine a world with him in it.

When Darkness last words spoke out before the shuffling of paws neared his target, Shaamah's feet stopped so abruptly that his shoulders lurched forward.

A servant? Better than he? That boy was more a curse on the world than the red star that had fallen. Miwa held more talent in one whisker than the red son could muster in all of him. Even as his enemy, he couldn't deny the fact that Zetsubou was, in every fiber of his being, worth so much less than the wretch he had come to hate.

Shoulders, rigid, turned with the rest of him. De ja vu struck as Darkness came at him with the same sloppy charge, but a chord had been struck in Shaamah's mind. If a warning wouldn't work to rid him of this contestant for Zetsubou's crown of fools, then a threat it had to be.

Darkness' fist met Shaamah's jaw, but it was an off balance, over extended and far reached strike. Gripping onto the pale man's arm, the broadside of his palm came from beneath and ensured that the pain of his previous strike would not go unnoticed. Blood sprayed his face as Darkness choked, the ball of his throat forced upward and his jaw clacking against itself, then Shaamah gripped. The soft skin of the Patriarch's throat grew shallow, and Shaamah's strong arm drug the Cavalier off the road.

A hollow sound moved through his quarry as he pressed his body against the thick of the timber. The force alone stole what little breathe Darkness had left in him, but Shaamah wasn't through with him,” Your claim arrives very confidently for how ostentatiously asinine you are very proud to be,” As his vanilla fangs neared Darkness' face, he wanted the man to be absolutely sure of how close he was to bringing a list of frayed edges to an end. The nearer he came, the more quiet his voice was found to be. His eye narrowed. As his tune lessened to but barely a whisper, his entire body shivered with a primal instinct to crush what was in his careful hands,” It may be within your better perspicacity to take the losses you've sustained as an indication in which my lacking ability to feel concern.”

Jerking his throat, he pressed the man with both arms roughly into the pine. One, still firmly on his throat, the other, against the rapid rhythm in Darkness' chest. Footpaws kicked at his legs, claws raked at his arms, but he wasn't yet ready to let him free,” It was no decision of mine to satiate your daughter's spread loins with children of poisoned blood,” Rumbling, his voice found it's rise,” Should you seek blame, then look only to the golden boy you claim bests me.”

Releasing his victim, he took a few steps back, if only to look down on that slumped figure against the roots,” It should be enough to know that those whom continue to survive in your injudicious realm of existence have the chance to survive with a greater longevity, only if you were cease the intended effort to weaponize your voice to condemn them all.”


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POSTED: Mon Aug 19, 2019 6:04 am

Hoarse pants rattled in his chest as he lurched forward, a hand coiling around his own throat as if to soften the pain there by any degree he could manage. Shaamah's words reached him through the maze of tangled locks that draped over his visage while the curve of Darkness' brow, down turned corners of his black lips, and the jaw that hung as he gulped in heaved breaths spoke more than words ever could.

He didn't understand the half of what he was being said.

Words he'd never heard rumbled in his ears from the voice of a monster, and in his ignorance he did nothing more than struggle to rise again. The awning of the tree that had abraded his back stood sentient and unforgiving, yet helped him to his feet all the same. A golden eye found that beast, that demon that surely crawled from the depths of a poisoned place, but his sights were wavering. He wasn't strong enough. He wasn't fast enough.

He wasn't smart enough.

A fracture moved through his core, where there was no bone to break or wound to bleed.

With a shake of his head, determination lit his spirit. Hartt had said that he could do anything, if he tried. If it was truly meant to be. She had always believed in him. Fists clenched as he growled, snapping fiery amber, contesting Shaamah's chilling glacier glare. Pushing himself off of the trunk of the tree, he gave himself all the power forward he could create for himself.

The soldier didn't move a muscle until Darkness barreled into him.

Darkness was pushed away with a wide handed shove. An untrained eye didn't see the twist in Shaamah's waist or the lift of the man's arm over his shoulder. The Cavalier came at him again, a mere breaths distance away from sinking wildly snapping jaws into the behemoth's chest before the angle of an elbow came down on his jaw. A wound marked twice at Shaamah's hand was found once again and it rocked Darkness until the encroaching blackness of his periphery claimed him.

Like a stone in water, he crumbled to the earth. Knees met the grass of the ditch first, followed by his shoulder as he twisted. Jaw clacked as he met the ground, his whole body bouncing from the force of his own weight.

For a moment, for just a moment, he thought his prayers answered.

A pinprick of light glittered in the center of his vision while the ringing in his ears drown out the rasp of his own labored breath. He tried so desperately to focus, to see what was there, in that small moment of light in this world of black. The pupil of his golden eye widened as his conscious slipped away from him.

Until the sharp bite of corporeal pain stole him from this humming ethereal plain.


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POSTED: Tue Oct 01, 2019 5:09 am

Shaamah had seen it, time and time again, but his patience was wire thin today as it was. Vengeful lovers, weeping mothers, furious fathers, all coming to incite what was due and in that process, they dug their own graves. Yet, this man here, no more strong than a blade of grass or the skin of a dead leaf, attempted something that was not meant for him. Shaamah tired of him, and it was time to make that very, very clear.

The knuckles of his foot bore into the pallid father's side and tossed him over. The corpse like flop of his body attesting to the limit that was found, yet denied, and found yet again. The blow to his head had knocked wakefulness from his grasp, but if the man were so lucky, it might have knocked some sense in where consciousness struggled to be. The beast leaned over Darkness, rearing a fist back and planting it twice in the center of the sooty Patriarch's sternum. The winded wheeze of Shaamah's successes played like and obedient instrument as the beast took a knee beside him.

Gripping him by the hair of his throat, he pulled the rolling amber eye as close to his face as he could,” Let me be more clear, since you are indeed a fool,” The low growl drew on, intent in his voice as his ability spoke for itself,” Harass me one more time, and I will rip everything you hold dear away from you. I will take it all, every soul, every thing, and leave you to live,” Dropping Darkness to the earth, he allowed him the moment to digest these words with each winded cough that strangled through him. Stepping away, he spat out a snarl of disgust,” Even in your retribution, you are not worth the wasted effort,” Malevolent gaze swept over the crumbled man one last time, before turning away to leave him to the bed he'd sown,” I know my place. It is best you learn what is your's, cur.”


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