K I N G with HØRNS

✉: For a regular text message from my muse.

♣: Here, have a not so regular (maybe even a dirty one) text message.

✍: For what my muse has written about yours in their diary.

✎: For an unsent letter from my muse (May be AU if you want, just let me know what kind of AU you want).

☎: For a drunk phone call.

☏: How about a voice message from my muse?

♥: The favorites of my muse- can be anything from music to sex positions, you're allowed to specify what you want.

∞: A random headcanon about my muse and yours.

☯: Here, have a hug from my muse.

☮: An argument I think my muse would have with yours.

♪: I've put all of my songs on shuffle- now I have to write a drabble involving our muses with the next song that comes on.

♬: Would you care to dance? My muse has to dance with yours.

♛: My muse is royalty for a day and you are their loyal subject- wait, what? What would my muse's reaction be to this idea?

♚: You are my master- hold on. What if my muse was the loyal subject, how would this go?

✖: Your muse is drowning in the bathtub when mine walks into the bathroom.

☠: Your muse has died, this is how mine reacts.

❂: My muse is clumsy and crashes into yours.

✈: Our muses are on a plane together, by accident or choice. This is what happens.

☢: It's too hot outside, how does my muse suggest our muses cool down?

ϟ: There's a storm going on and our muses are stuck together in a house- how will this go?

☂: It's pouring down and your muse forgot their umbrella, will my muse offer up theirs?

✧: Our muses went to eat out- where?

★: The stars are shining beautifully and my muse wants you to see them.

☾: It's in the middle of the night and my muse had a nightmare about yours- what does my muse do?

☼: The sun is shining bright and your muse got the bright idea of going out, does my muse agree with this?

☄: My muse is lost, luckily there is cellphone reception- does my muse dare to call yours for help?

♤: Our muses are playing a game, which kind and who is winning?

☻: Your muse got sunburnt, my muse didn't- how'd it happen and how'll mine help?

♒: Our muses are at the beach together, by accident or not, and yours was a bit too close to the waves- will my muse laugh or perhaps be helpful?

♦: Your muse asked mine to marry them, what's my muse's reaction?

◊: Your muse comes to mine, crying, how does my muse react?

✘: Scars aren't very pretty- my muse has to show you theirs.

   ”I agree, but…" And really, he did, but other people didn’t see things quite like they did. He was a uniformed young man himself, somebody who fought alongside the army and was used to such sights. This building was filled with civilians, people who were innocent and blind to the concepts of actual violence and the wars that happened around them so commonly. Even then, while the other didn’t care what the people around him saw, the panicked gazes from the few other people that, like him, had just stopped by for a warm meal or were staffed to serve it out, gave the dealer a reason to step forward, "not all of them deserve to be retaliated against. Just by hurting one person, you frighten others. Lives lived in fear are lives not lived at all.”

   The candidate turned back around and swept his gaze across the room again. His hands rose, gently moving back and forth in a more soothing pattern as if to let the other people around them know that nothing more would probably come from the other so long as he was left be. There wasn’t any real way to guarantee it, but once he noticed the few young men who had stood up in case of defense begin to sit back within their seats, he relaxed, and evidently so did the frazzled wait staff that had hid themselves behind the bar.

   Not bothering to turn around, though, as he had little plans to sit and debate a topic that obviously most men in military positions would say he had little right to be discussing the merits of (After all, didn’t he kill people, too? Didn’t those people have families? He was just defending himself, right?), he spoke his final piece on the matter. “Simply put, react where others won’t be so affected.”

   His fists returned to his sides and loosened, and just as abruptly as he’d walked over to the other, had he began to walk back to the table he’d sat at prior in silence. Sets of eyes followed him back, and quite frankly, there was little to say to them or much to care about it with, dare he even say he was used to being watched, but most remained on the other, expecting something else to follow. Very seldom did diplomacy settle violence in their world, after all. “You can all go back to your business.”

   Somebody had to say it, right?

   ❝People will react in a similar manner. Had I avoided what I did, they would have hurt me and started a fight. It would still have given me these looks. Better to do it in a way only a person get's the frightened stares than the idea of a half-broken establishment and fearful civilians."

His eyes turned back to the wall. Quietly not going to mention anything more. He was done. He needn't have anymore conversation towards a person who wouldn't understand a decision like this made everyday for him. The choice between deciding over people's gasps, stares and their shouts of fear. He knew them all too well, some more wouldn't be anything to him. So long as he could be left alone. Left to rest for just a few minutes ...

So many people would have thought he would attack another for just looking at him funny, but how would he even be the wiser to a person staring into him when he didn't look for them. Didn't let red eyes turn to meet other's, didn't let his body language change from the quiet resolved twist to keep away from them. Seats, spots, everything were all in question to who had gotten there first anyway.

Nobody should disturb him. Nobody ought to tell him that it's wrong to be sitting here. Listening to the suffocation of words, lies, bombs thrown as the people slowly turned back to their meals, words meant to calm, words meant to insult, tease, joke, bide time. They were all things he could hear from his corner. He could listen to the men who had originally been willing to attack him drunkenly over a spot were now more sobered up from the crack in his wrist, despite having it healed, slundering away to find another spot somewhere.

Reasons, thoughts, ideas. They all determined who a person was. He was still who he was. There was no reason he would act differently, despite the ripped away position, the hatred now in it's place. He would not think of death, he would not carry the hurt they did, not listen to the words and speak how he would.

It didn't matter who he was. It just mattered on what he did ...

   ❝This is weird..." The boy was walking through the crowd of people, his mother and father over in the corner talking with the nobles as they always would, not paying attention to him at all. "..." So, as any good deciding child would do, he decided to go over and grab a glass of wine off the table.

They said it was difficult to get drunk off of wine ... well, his immune system was under-developed, right? Age would say so, and his abilities with alcohol would be extremely lower than --

oh, that’s right — you only used blastia to kill others, a silly mistake. enhancing our usage? you do realize what you did — not just to raven, but to estelle and to the people of our world. humans and entelexia have suffered because of your actions and your actions alone.

my situation was … different; not entirely, but slightly. so don’t compare your ideals with my own. i did not intend for others to be injured. and did i speak of righteousness towards my own decisions? no. but to rid the world of hermes blastia — my one purpose — it was to help others. i had good intentions while you, commandant, did not.

ah and here you continue speaking your twisted words to make what you feel right, be right. speaking so familiarly, as if you'd know my motives with just a mere blink of eyes to dismiss and bring forward any evidence that might be contrary to your innitial emotions and make my own words like spitting poison upon your ears.

my situation was not so different from yours, corrupted that it may be. power was a means for me. gaining such a thing would have allowed for the world to be wiped clean, redistributed and given a clean slate where no sorrow, no loss, no pain need be felt. do not tell me that was not good intentions, for i neither wished to rule directly over this world.

[{ *writing really serious reply* }

{ *Larry's High Silk Hat start's playing* }]

   Bar fights held no particular interest to the blond. He could care quite little for the inebriated folk that cheered and danced and rejoiced in their lack of consistent, hazy thoughts. It was when there was an unnecessary amount of violence that his eyes would wander. And usually, he wouldn’t find himself in a tavern (He was that seventeen year old that had no interest in alcohol to begin with). But he’d come for food, and it hadn’t quite arrived yet.

   Besides, what kind of uniformed man lowered himself to fight those who couldn’t even hold their fists steady?

   So, he stood and decided to do something he normally wouldn’t. He quite liked the idea of having his dinner without the various people throwing punches and losing teeth in a chaotic frenzy. Black dress shoes clacked against the polished wood and led him away from his seat, to the white haired man’s presence. The larger men only halted their movements at the sight, certain that the younger twig of a male was only going to get crushed like the man that sat wailing on the ground and waiting for some form of a medic.

   Once he reached his destination, a few feet away from the wall and honestly, questioning his decisions in the eerie silence and screaming that expected him to get pummeled, he turned and extended a hand behind him. A simple cure spell’s green light came from his hand, unable to really help much with anything but the pain considering the bone was shattered, but his second of silence was bliss. Ace’s attention returned to the stranger a few seconds later, though, without any intention of chastising the other.

   ”If you’re going to break people’s arms and start a riot, mind waiting until I’m gone?”

   ❝When a threat becomes real, you end it as quickly as possible with as little question as possible. Besides, it was not a break, but a crack. My nails dug in, making it appear worse than it was." In his own mind, Alexei had merely defended himself. He didn't even glance back, just barely lifting himself from his hand to let both arms cross on the table. "I do not care what they do, as I do not care for what you do. Threaten me and I will respond, leave me alone and I leave you alone. It's basic science; every action has a reaction."

He was not one of those people who were given a questioning glance most the time, or at least he used not be. White hair and a piercing gaze, a uniform and a very easy build to pick out in a crowd, he now stuck out like a sore thumb. Though Alexei still did not mind. As mentioned earlier, he did not care what a person did, so long as they kept him out of it. Truly, he was pretty simple in that regard -or so he thought- for who wanted to be bothered with unpleasant tithes when they were none of his business or dealings.

Alexei did not believe it was such a horrible thing to ask of one. He had ignored the man who attempted to move him, making a comment about hurting him and beginning to proceed to doing so afterwards. It was true, with shaking fists and unsteady body, Alexei could have twisted, flipped and slid away from the boy who had tried his best to fight him. Really though, who wanted to fight him? He was lucky that Alexei hadn't decided to take the hand in question that had given him so much nuisance. Perhaps he should have ... It would have saved him later problems later, he mused silently before pushing the thought from mind.

No need to be unpleasant. He was simply not in the mood to deal with shenanigans of those who did not know better.

   ❝My point was taken, or so it seems." Alexei shifted, finally turning to look to the person in question. Long silver bangs shifting backwards as Alexei's head tipped just slightly to look him in the eye. "My methods were affective and would not have caused long term harm, no matter what action I chose to do next."

Send me a SYMBOL

♫ - singing voice

   Music has always been important to Alexei. Ever since he was an infant, he’s been playing piano or singing soft songs that his mother taught him and he’s -considerably- good. As such, he’s not perfect so he does not do so often despite the baritone in his voice being perfect for throaty, warm songs.

   ❝Meaningless."

He spoke critically but without care. Eyes glancing between the places that seemed to swarm with either people, monsters, weaponry, all things he could recognize but not quite. His head tilted away, chin resting on knuckles as a person stepped in front of him, grumbling about spots and Alexei ignored him.

Thick, fat fingers clutched at his collar, jerking him up and out of his seat, red hues turning to stare straight into the man. A glare, only a glare was sent to the man as warning. Words beginning to spit at the ex-commandant when there was a loud yelp, screams and he was dropped back to his seat. His eyes wandered away again, the other clutching at his wrist for Alexei had taken the other's flesh between his hands and squeezed until bone near broke and blood slid free and stained his fingernails.