[Ficlets] Behold, a Pale Horse
Collection Title: Behold, a Pale Horse
Author: Shytan
Rating: PG
Characters: Cutler Beckett
Summary: Four ficlets inspired by the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse.
Warnings: -
Conquest
By day he conquered the world with his mind, filling in the edges on the map. His written words sent those who opposed him to their hasty demise, his laws conquering the land. His spoken words sent pirates to their hasty demise, his armada conquering the sea. By night he conquered the world with his dreams, armed with his bow and his crown. Upon a white horse he rode out, as a conqueror bent on conquest.
War
People were puppets to Lord Beckett. They were to be ruthlessly manipulated until they no longer held use, then discarded without a second thought. Relationships were never perfect, and it was these imperfections that he exploited. Little was more satisfying that planting the seeds of doubt and betrayal into the minds of his minions, then watching them grow and blossom. Seated on the fiery chestnut of his fallen foe, hand grasping a bloodied sword that was not his, Lord Beckett looked for all the world like the bringer of War, taking peace from the world, so that they may kill one another.
Famine
The ocean was a ripe, juicy fruit, and Cutler Beckett was hungry. Many ships sailed the open seas, but the world was shrinking, and there would not be room for them all. Every morning, another ship that had not been his unfurled its elegant flag, proclaiming to the world its new alliance to the East India Trading Company. Beckett had a hunger that could not be sated, and his armada continued to grow, tipping the scales further in his favour. Beckett owned the ocean, leaving the pirates starving for what they could no longer have.
Death
Spurring on his deathly pale stallion, Lord Beckett bore down on his enemies swiftly, slaughtering all in his path with a cold ruthlessness that stung as harshly as his weapon of words. His opponents scattered, cowering in fear, as death itself stared them in the face. Closely following the snorting steed and its pale rider, a sea of red soldiers marched. He may not have wielded a cutlass or other blade, but there are many ways to smite down an unruly foe, and Lord Beckett was no stranger to any of them.
Author: Shytan
Rating: PG
Characters: Cutler Beckett
Summary: Four ficlets inspired by the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse.
Warnings: -
Conquest
By day he conquered the world with his mind, filling in the edges on the map. His written words sent those who opposed him to their hasty demise, his laws conquering the land. His spoken words sent pirates to their hasty demise, his armada conquering the sea. By night he conquered the world with his dreams, armed with his bow and his crown. Upon a white horse he rode out, as a conqueror bent on conquest.
War
People were puppets to Lord Beckett. They were to be ruthlessly manipulated until they no longer held use, then discarded without a second thought. Relationships were never perfect, and it was these imperfections that he exploited. Little was more satisfying that planting the seeds of doubt and betrayal into the minds of his minions, then watching them grow and blossom. Seated on the fiery chestnut of his fallen foe, hand grasping a bloodied sword that was not his, Lord Beckett looked for all the world like the bringer of War, taking peace from the world, so that they may kill one another.
Famine
The ocean was a ripe, juicy fruit, and Cutler Beckett was hungry. Many ships sailed the open seas, but the world was shrinking, and there would not be room for them all. Every morning, another ship that had not been his unfurled its elegant flag, proclaiming to the world its new alliance to the East India Trading Company. Beckett had a hunger that could not be sated, and his armada continued to grow, tipping the scales further in his favour. Beckett owned the ocean, leaving the pirates starving for what they could no longer have.
Death
Spurring on his deathly pale stallion, Lord Beckett bore down on his enemies swiftly, slaughtering all in his path with a cold ruthlessness that stung as harshly as his weapon of words. His opponents scattered, cowering in fear, as death itself stared them in the face. Closely following the snorting steed and its pale rider, a sea of red soldiers marched. He may not have wielded a cutlass or other blade, but there are many ways to smite down an unruly foe, and Lord Beckett was no stranger to any of them.