Masquerade of a Demon

Her head was held high as she walked, the wind creating a motion to her strikingly coloured mane which may have been a mimic of waves crashing down along a distant shoreline. Her steps spoke of a confidence in the strange setting, a graveyard set at the edge of the fields where her kind were known to roam. The cobblestones were unusual beneath her rose and bubblegum hooves, the colours painting on her a mask of someone different.

Someone who didn't think the way she did. Bitterly, it seemed, she liked to taunt those of her kind with cruel intentions. Whether it be jealousy or some flaw in her own self confidence was unknown, it might have been that her mind just worked in a different way. What would she need friends for anyway? If she was just as happy here, in the silence of those long passed, what would the noise and the bother of their concerns ever bring her but annoyance?

She often played the victim, pretending to have hurt herself to lure in those with kind intentions, or those bespelled by her stereotypical feminine beauty. She looked so delicate, so harmless. Normally the night ended in rage, fear, or tears. Never hers, though, nobody had ever beat her at her spiteful mind games. She perched atop a large blocky grave marker, why had someone spent so much money on this? Nobody would miss her when she was gone, even her bonded didn't know her well, so why would it matter? At least it gave grave wanderers like her a place to seat themselves. She honestly didn't anticipate anyone coming here, tonight wasn't a night for play, it was a night for memories. The only thing Locket cared about other than herself.

The red and white stallion jogged to the edge of the forest near by. His head was held high with pride and moved with powerful strides. His eye however looked clouded with anger. He snorted in disgust at thinking of his past experience. ‘That little silver mare! The newest in my bond-herd had told me straight off, when I tried to play a prank on the innocent ice mare. I ignored her ranting, then she did what no one else had ever done before, she pinned pointed my weakness. She saw through my game and saw the pathetic stallion I used to be. We fought ending with her winning,’ he thought disgusted at himself.

Sure he was once like that, weak and sly, but not anymore. One did not need anyone and he surely did not need that mare showing the old self. ‘What right did she have to do what she did, minds games are fun and so are pranks.’ He thought about this still missing the one thing, fun for him, but not others. He had yet to encounter another with the same game plan, someone who could beat him at his own games.

The stallion stepped out of the forest and into the field. He looked around, his blood red eyes catching all the scenery. His gaze stopped on the figure of another serian. The anger left his eyes as he thought he could take it out on this new encounter. He kept moving towards the silver and pink mare.

He stopped a few feet from her, still on the field. “This is an odd place for a stony-pinky mare to be. Lost are we? Or are we embarrassed with our cold stone body that got bubble gum plastered on the top and bottom,” he said in a mocking tone. His eyes and face held no emotion what so ever.

She tilted her head up to face the stranger as he approached, sensing a contained rage within his steps. He seemed to have similar qualities to someone she knew well... oh yes, herself. This would prove to be amusing then. But did he have the ability to back up all of that untrained hatred, perhaps at the world, or perhaps at someone in particular? It mattered not to her, quite honestly, but she would play off of it if she needed to.

When he spoke she considered playing to his game, seeming offended, but he would probably have seen right through that. No, it was a challenge he was after, and she was more than willing to put him in his place. His pathetic insults were just the ammunition to get her started. What a night this would be after all!

"I see nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to my beauty. However I find it a peculiar insult coming from one who looks like a cheap mock candy cane." She smirked and shook her mane, not bothering to hide her amusement and hoping at the same time to get a good reaction. With how freely he embraced his anger, things could turn plenty fun and violent quickly enough if she played her cards right.

He chuckled, "I would prefer to say I look like blood stained snow on a cloudless day." He stepped closer, to her, 'Are you playing the same game here?' he thought amused. "So I ask again what's with this place that attracts you, Missy. Is it you like to play childish games of hide and seek, and thought to hide here among the gravestones that match your body? Though your mane, tail and hooves would give you away way too easily," he said still in his mocking tone. He now had a mischievous look in his eyes, that was for now, covering the hidden anger.

He would wait to see what she did, since he was curious as to how much he could get away with. The stallion loved this, a challenge. 'May the better bad Serian win,' he thought. In any case this would help him get rid of some of the anger and frustration that had been built up in the last few days.

She laughed aloud, a deep rich sound that seemed to echo off of each and every grave marker in the area. When she turned her eyes to him, the look was challening and full of something hidden, 'I know something you don't know...'. "You speak like you understand true violence. Talk is cheap, however." She flicked her tail arrogantly and stared down at him from her position, though it wasn't really down so much as almost straight ahead. He was fairly tall and the marker she perched on wasn't very high. No matter. She was used to being shorter than those she intimidated, it was an art.

"Hiding, hm. I can't see why I would want to do that in a place like this. Normally those I come across choose that option for themselves. Can't imagine why." She laughed again at this, putting on a fake pout though her eyes glimmered with pleasure at the knowledge that she could make quite a few 'big bad stallions' go running home for mommy. It was an aquired talent. She didn't think she'd get to practice tonight, but apparently good things come to those who wait.

"I come here for the serene atmosphere. And you? Can you only find acceptance and companionship amongst those who can't even tell whether you live and breathe?" She asked in a bitter and hushed tone, not wanting to give away more about herself than was necessary. Rule one of this game was to never let more about yourself be known than was absolutely necessary. Almost anything could be turned against you if faced by a particularily witty opponent. He hadn't yet truly impressed her, but his resilience to her teasing thus far was better than most. Surpring for someone who had seemed to be such a force of untamed emotion.

He looked at her amusedly as she chuckled. “I would say the same, though I have only ever seen one other here and it was a case of being lost.” He looked her over, ‘you sure your not here for the same reason,’ he thought mockingly. “Company, yes. They keep the talking to a zip.” He tossed his mane, feeling much better than he had earlier. “The dead can’t lie nor deceive.”

He walked the cobblestone as he entered the graveyard, his hooves echoing across the area. Like he cared if he made noise her not, he stopped to the side of the mare. He took in a deep, breath. He was not sure, but something here made him feel like this was a part of home. He turned to face her again, “You. What brings you here?”