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Fic Post! BRING ON THE CRACK.

It's important to know a few things: 1) I'm not right in the head. 2) re-read #1. 3) this is just some good, clean fun. 4) I can't stay serious for long. 5) the hypotenuse squared, c2, is equal to the sum of the two sides a2 and b2. (Ha, caught my wonky wording, Sal!)

There is now artwork (under the cut) and a theme song! Borrowed, but nonetheless. :D

Title: The Edge of Neight, aka Stallion Crest 2/8
Author: Stoney
Rating: PG/All Audiences/No goats, they're assholes.
Summary: Things are peaceful at the ranch until a good-for-nothing show pony joins the herd and destroys the plans already laid in place. Or is he there to free an untamed heart? *whinny*
Feedback: Yes, please! It's like a nosebag full of delicious oats, or a Not-A-Carrot.
Warnings: DID I MENTION THIS WAS A (clean) SOAP OPERA ABOUT HORSES? There will be: comas! Deserted Islands! Evil twins! Cold, cruel stares as the camera fades to black! Intense looks! Burros! Tears. Tears coursing down my face as I laughed myself sick writing this. Here's to hoping you laugh, too.

Did you miss Part One? THEN YOU MISSED EVERYTHING.





~*~
The Edge Of Neight
~*~

click the title to listen to the theme song!





PART TWO



For days Top O'The Line had kept Fancy busy at her jumping in preparation for a big event at the end of the month. She blocked Skidoodle from ever getting scent of her golden filly and disrupting the plans for their bloodline's name that she had already set in place. She wasn't too old to foal again, but she knew the ranch owners would want her young horse as the mother to the next champion from the famous studline of Ransom Paycheck.

That didn't stop her from being mounted by the stud, however. Her daughter could have him when she was through. They lay in the hay of Ransom's private stall when finished; she lit a smoke and exhaled slowly, flicking at the ash with her other shoe.

"You've got more tricks up your fetlock than any other mare I've encountered."

She smiled seductively, showing every inch of her perfect, long teeth, and tossed her fiery mane. "You don't know the half of it."

Ransom rolled, getting a few other itches scratched, and grumped, "When is that daughter of yours going to come around? You know I could take her if I wanted. But dammit - I want her to come to me."

Top O'The Line tried to hide her displeasure at being dismissed as a suitor, but changed tactics. "Just give her time. She'll come around soon enough. Especially when she has no choice."

They both laughed cruelly.


****


Stormy cantered casually along the fence line separating her from Skidoodle, nonchalantly tossing her ebony mane. Any other stud would have gone mad with the wanting. But Skidoodle was still pining for that sad sack with the rainbow dreams and candy wishes, Fancy Face. Stormy snorted and kicked at the fence. Fancy? That flea-bitten nag? She raced to the edge of a pond and admired her reflection in the shining waters. She was perfect. Glistening and black like a river stone, she stood on two legs, practicing her Dressage piaffes. She wondered if she should drop hints that those high-level skills translated elsewhere...

When her mane was pulled and braided, and her rider dressed in his best astride her, there were none that could compare to her beauty, to her control. Her dancing was unparalleled. But once turned out to the fields to be on her own, her precise Dressage dancing became something wild and free. She was a fiery tempest, a hurricane of hooves and mane ready to strike out in anger... or lust.

She could hear music somewhere from across the water. She tossed her black mane, swished her tail and began to move to the rhythm inside her. Lost in motion, she didn't notice the loud snort or pawing next to her until a cold nose nudged her side while she performed a tempi change to the faint beat only she could hear.

"You look pretty amazing, Stormy."

She bared her teeth, "Justin Time. Who asked you?" She showed off her canter pirouette, her intention to leave him wanting more, but it seemed the buckskin colt had had his fill of being teased and left wanting. He blocked her path and bit at her withers.

"It's time you stopped playing games with me, Stormy."

She laughed. "WHEEEEE HEEEEE heee heeee pbbbbtttll! Believe me, it's not you I want to play games with." She tossed her head towards the grey stallion nibbling on a bit of clover at the far end of the pond. "Now that's a stallion built for rolling in the hay."

Just then, Clover cantered over. "Hey, guys! What are we all looking at?"

Stormy rolled her eyes and galloped off in the direction of the brash new stallion. Justin whinnied his frustration, looking over his shoulder at the horse that got away.

"J-justin? Did I say something wrong?"

Justin turned sharply, ready to bark out a retort, but when he caught sight of the pony's silly face, her forelock all messy and shading her eyes, her large teeth too big for her face... He just couldn't bear to hurt her.

"No. No, you're fine, Clover."

Clover beamed her wide, silly grin at the object of her affection. Justin, however, cast a look over his shoulder towards Stormy.

He didn't like what he saw.


*****


Fancy bobbed her head in frustration as the groomer took their time combing out her tail. Finally, they were done brushing her and binding her tail. She raced out of the barn and headed for the open pasture where she scented Skidoodle. Her mother was nowhere in sight. At last, she'd be able to meet the new horse and perhaps even fall in love, just like she had dreamed.

A large black body blocked her as she made for the vetch-covered field.

"Random Paycheck! What on earth are you doing here? Out of my way, how rude!"

Ransom paced back and forth languidly. "Off somewhere in a mighty hurry, aren't you?"

"That's none of your business, WHEEEEE HEEEEE heeeeee pbbbbtttll!"

"If you'd ever slow down, you might see that you don't need to race off anywhere. Everything you could ever hope for is right here." Ransom reared back on his legs, pawing at the air and showing his strong torso, pointing at his mighty underbelly with his front shoes. Fancy turned her head away in disgust.

"I'll never want you, never!"

Ransom snorted cruelly. "I don't think he'll want you either." He moved close and whickered in her ear, "All you'll have left is me. Don't fight it."

She looked beyond the large black horse and gasped. There, the object of her desire, the horse that she hoped would take her away from the life she hated and a mother who didn't care about her was rubbing noses with her arch-enemy, Stormy.


****

"I’ve got it, lassie– I appreciate your help, but I won’t need fairther assistance."

Skidoodle veered back a few paces from the ministrations of the pushy black mare that was trying to rub a bit of dirt off his nose. Stormy looked over her shoulder and grinned. It was just as she'd planned: Fancy was galloping away, hooves and tail high with her retreat.

Stormy trotted alongside Skidoodle, trying to make conversation.

"So how are you liking the Star W Double T Walking F Rocking U Flying C Circle K Ranch? Are you being treated well? True, we have some... low lifes here, but evidently," she snorted, "the owners are running a charity alongside the high end breeding, racing and eventing operations."

"Are you calling me a charity case, Princess? No one speaks to me like that what doesn’t get a hoof to the kisser!"

Skidoodle looked green fire out of his large eyes and had the appearance of a pissed off pugilist. His ears flattened and he bared his teeth. He may have been a show horse, but he was no charity case! He could run away and live with the wild Mustangs of the west and never bat an eye or swish a tail at the hardship. Living with the circus taught him how to be strong, how to survive. He bet this manky filly never had to lift a hoof. Probably never felt the sting of a crop on her haunch.

Stormy stepped in place, tossing her mane. "Not at all. Just warning you that there are those here that might... take you down a peg. And there are those here," she whickered into his ear, "that can help you reach new heights."

She bit at his neck and sauntered off, looking over her shoulder. "See you around, handsome."

Skidoodle turned to walk back to the stables; he was sure he had caught scent of that elusive filly, Fancy. Instead, he was bit to bit with that treacherous she-beast, Top O'The Line.

"My daughter enjoyed your little... public tryst. I couldn't have planned it better myself."

"Out of my way."

Top O'The Line smirked and took a few steps sideways. "Well, seeing as your way and my way won't interfere with one another, surely."

She watched the handsome but wild horse canter off, delighting in how her plans to make a name for herself through her filly were working when she sensed someone behind her. She whirled.

"Gringo! What are you doing here?"

Top O'The Line looked to see if anyone was watching then nudged Gringo into the shadows. "I told you to never speak to me in public again!"

"Sí, sí, ees joos... I mees she so moosh. I theenk about she all de time. Por favor: tell me what she look like agains, eef only to paint the peekchure of she in mi cabeza, Señora."

Top O'The line looked into the soft, furry and kind face of Gringo el Burro, a single tear glistening on his long lashes, trembling with release. She snorted cruelly.

"I'll do no such thing. She's gone, Gringo. And if you don't watch your step," she moved closer so that her voice was the iciest hiss in his long ear, "you'll be gone, too. Forget her. She doesn't exist, do you hear me?"

She raced away, lest anyone see her consorting with Gringo. He watched her sadly, the lone tear giving way and running the length of his snout. He couldn't forget. He loved too deeply. It would seem that yet another sun would set without him ever knowing of her life...

Gringo made his way back to the stable. Maybe Hank would have some fermented hops for him to drown his sorrows in.

Skidoodle stepped out of the trees behind the stable. His eyes narrowed with suspicion and his nostrils flared with anger. He couldn't catch her scent on the air; she was headed for the top of the hill in the distance, and then she was gone. Unfortunately, she was headed in the place all the horses had been warned not to visit, or something dreadful would happen to them. He snorted in frustration - there was no way he could follow her. But that Top O'The Line was up to something, and he would find out what. No matter what.

Meanwhile, Top O'The Line crested the hill and made her way gingerly down the rocky slope, over the trepidatious brook, and leaped nimbly over an old, crumbling stone wall. Ahead was a shed, a shack, really, rickety with age and neglect. A faint whinny sounded; Top O'The Line pricked her ears forward and bared her teeth.

"You shut it in there! No one will ever find you. No one will ever know who you are, if it's the last thing I'll ever do!" She whirled around to face the Star W Double T Walking F Rocking U Flying C Circle K Ranch, eyes rolling wildly with madness, determination etched into her very bones. She furtively whispered, her voice filled with restrained passion, "No one!"


~TBC HERE!

Comments

( 35 comments — Leave a comment )
southernbangel
May. 3rd, 2007 07:43 pm (UTC)
I swear to God, I love you more than cake.

She was a fiery tempest, a hurricane of hooves and mane ready to strike out in anger... or lust.

Oooo, HOT.

"WHEEEEE HEEEEE heee heeee pbbbbtttll!

Ahahahahaha! *wipes tears away*

At last, she'd be able to meet the new horse and perhaps even fall in love, just like she had dreamed.

Sweet, innocent Fancy. What's a young innocent mare like her to do?

The drama!intrigue!romance is cracking me up, yo.

stoney321
May. 3rd, 2007 07:47 pm (UTC)
Fancy... I just can't help but worry about someone so young, and so in love. WITH SOMEONE SHE'S NEVER MET.

Oh, thank you Days of Our Lives for instilling in me a love of the crack.

More than CAKE? Nuh uh. *beams* I WOULD LIKE TO HAVE A BELLINI WITH YOU LATER TODAY, COME OVER AT 5. Waaaah. :(
southernbangel
May. 3rd, 2007 07:54 pm (UTC)
DO YOU HAVE THE FROZEN BELLINI MACHINE? IF YES, I AM SO THERE. *zooms over*

Seriously, those Bellinis were *delicious* and I want more. Next time I visit, maybe I should sleep with the owner so we can get free Bellinis all the time. I would whore myself out for that drink, oh yes I would.

Here's a link to that song I told you I always hear in my head when I think of this story. Oh, Fancy.
stoney321
May. 3rd, 2007 08:01 pm (UTC)
*claps hands!*

Oh, thanks for the link! Also: email me your mailing address, ahem.

I want a drink in my mouth right now. STOOPID KIDS GETTING IN THE WAY OF MY ALCOHOLISM.
moosesal
May. 3rd, 2007 08:22 pm (UTC)
Oh god, I am such a geek. I'm not reading the fic right now (I will later), but I'm here to comment on this:

5) the hypotenuse, c, is equal to the sum of the two sides a and b, squared. That would be c = (a + b)2

But it's actually the square of the hypotenuse, c, is equal to the sum of the squares of the two sides, a and b. That is, c2 = a2 + b2.

I'm probably the only reading who even cares. Hell, I'm probably the only one who noticed. But I love my Pythagorean theorem.

I love you.
stoney321
May. 3rd, 2007 08:38 pm (UTC)
AHAHAHAHA! How did I miss my [sup]2[/sup] on the c??!?!? GOD. DAMMIT.

And I love my Pythagoreum Theorem and all 72 proofs, CRAP. Editing! :D

(And I love you, too!)
moosesal
May. 3rd, 2007 08:40 pm (UTC)
You know with anyone else I would have just grit my teeth and moved on. Because people are so damn sensitive. But with you, I didn't hesitate to correct you. As fucked up as that is, you should feel honored.
stoney321
May. 3rd, 2007 08:42 pm (UTC)
*beams* It's because you know I would want it CORRECT. (This is what comes from slap-dash headers on fic post. THIS IS WHAT COMES.)

I'll direct you to the above to see the newly corrected language.

But I'm totally bawling about how mean you are, GOSH. ;)
moosesal
May. 3rd, 2007 08:45 pm (UTC)
Yay! It's fixed. Thank you.

And I keep telling people what an evil bitch I am and no one believes me. Perhaps I should direct them here. semicolon close parens
stoney321
May. 3rd, 2007 08:48 pm (UTC)
I'll bookmark this exchange as proof. :D (And you know, you COULD have read this whole damn thing in the time it took you to bitch at me for a fucking math theorem. GOD.)

Hahaha.
moosesal
May. 3rd, 2007 08:50 pm (UTC)
You know I totally could. But I'm such a bitch that I'm going to make you wait for my feedback until I've heard from you re: Smoke Break. Bitch. ;-)
stoney321
May. 3rd, 2007 08:52 pm (UTC)
I am SO GLAD you reminded me! Link me up, whore, and I'll read it now!

*flashes gang signs*
moosesal
May. 3rd, 2007 08:57 pm (UTC)
Read it, bitch.

http://moosesal.livejournal.com/330045.html

*smacks your ass*
xochitl42
May. 3rd, 2007 09:14 pm (UTC)
Why do I constantly forget that I'm not allowed to read your fic at work? Now people are staring at me, and I can't make up excuses for laughing my ass off.
stoney321
May. 3rd, 2007 09:17 pm (UTC)
Just tell them you're catching up on your stories...

:D

moosesal
May. 3rd, 2007 09:25 pm (UTC)
They lay in the hay of Ransom's private stall when finished; she lit a smoke and exhaled slowly, flicking at the ash with her other shoe.

I don't even have words for how fucked up that is. You are sick!

She was a fiery tempest, a hurricane of hooves and mane ready to strike out in anger... or lust.
Oh, that's just beautiful. (But you're still sick.)

Also, I can't believe you're using the Dallas theme song. You crazy, girl.
stoney321
May. 3rd, 2007 09:27 pm (UTC)
I love that she flicks at the ash with her hoof. I envision a Capri Menthol wedged in between the tiny gap between her shoe and hoof...

It HAD to be Dallas! (Also, I couldn't find Falcon's Crest. Hahaha)
moosesal
May. 3rd, 2007 09:37 pm (UTC)
Well, whatever my feelings are, Denis approves.
lynnenne
May. 3rd, 2007 11:57 pm (UTC)
Hahahahahahaha! DALLAS!

"WHEEEEE HEEEEE heeeeee pbbbbtttll!" This makes me laugh EVERY TIME.
stoney321
May. 4th, 2007 12:03 am (UTC)
Ramsom Paycheck = JR Ewing!

You know I put that in there for you, now, right? (It's totally pathetic that I have this whole "mystery" mapped out, and that I have plans for Skidoodle to end up with an eye patch and I'm basically stealing all the old storylines from Days of our Lives</a>, ahahaha.)
lynnenne
May. 4th, 2007 12:10 am (UTC)
I have plans for Skidoodle to end up with an eye patch

*falls over DED*
stoney321
May. 4th, 2007 12:46 am (UTC)
THERE WILL BE A WEDDING BETWEEN THE WRONG COUPLE. And maybe a shipwreck onto a deserted island and AMNESIA.

AND A MISSING IDENTICAL COUSIN. Named Putta Waywet. And he will fall in love with Rode Hard, and that way we can have a Very Important Gay Couple on this soap. :D
midnightsjane
May. 4th, 2007 01:15 am (UTC)
*falls off chair*
Putta Waywet! Rode Hard!
:snorfle:
You are a very warped person, Stoney. I think I hurt myself from laughing too much.
*crawls back onto chair*
stoney321
May. 4th, 2007 01:16 am (UTC)
*pirouettes and canters off into the sunset*

Heee! I'm glad I'm giving you a laugh!
(Deleted comment)
stoney321
May. 4th, 2007 02:47 am (UTC)
WHAT!? Oh my GOODNESS. I'm definitely going to see if I can find that on Netflix in a while. What on earth...

I hope you survive the in-laws!! (And that they don't leave you Bibles.... *g*)
entrenous88
May. 4th, 2007 10:51 am (UTC)
Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Haw!

I love Fancy, with her "rainbow dreams and candy wishes", and of course I'm still rooting for Clover!

Lots of drama in this installment. Dun dun DUN! I wonder if a mysterious stranger will come to the ranch next time?
stoney321
May. 4th, 2007 12:30 pm (UTC)
I hope you enjoyed the picture of Clover I found! :D I wonder if that silly heart Fancy will ever get her man... Or if Top O'The Line will win with her evil machinations. Or if Justin Time will be able to see beyond the glitz and glitter of Stormy and see the sweet soul that lives inside Skidoodle...

HORSE SLASH! Hahaha.
brutti_ma_buoni
May. 4th, 2007 06:36 pm (UTC)
Stoney321, how do you do it? One day almost blown away in a hurricane, the next producing work of such style, such poise, such...elegance. *sighs, fans self*

I think the names are my favourite bit. Apart from the fabulous plotting and characterisation obviously. And the adjectives. Sooo much description.

Am slightly worried that there's an emerging Skidoodle=Spike comparison going, though. Short, but feisty. I'm not sure if that's your brain or mine projecting the comparison, what's more. Can we never break free of the Jossness?
stoney321
May. 4th, 2007 08:55 pm (UTC)
I think it's your brain projecting the Spikeness, because I'm going for a Patch/Bo Brady hybrid from the US soap, Days of Our Lives. :D

...except that Skidoodle might lose his soul and have to prove his love. MIGHT! *leaves you in suspense!*

It's not easy writing work of this grandeur, this romance. But I open my mind to the heavens and let them use me as a tool. It's a gift, one that I would never shun.

(Ahahahaha.)
my_daroga
May. 7th, 2007 10:41 pm (UTC)
Oh man. There is so much right with the world, if it can produce such wonders.

a hurricane of hooves and mane ready to strike out in anger... or lust

Especially choice.
stoney321
May. 7th, 2007 10:50 pm (UTC)
It makes me SO HAPPY that you can enjoy this MASTERPIECE of equine love and emotion. If only I could find a way to work unicorns in...

:D
my_daroga
May. 7th, 2007 10:54 pm (UTC)
The innuendo *alone* would be worth it...


Oh, hey. Dream Sequence! Fantasy Stud Stallion!
(Deleted comment)
stoney321
May. 14th, 2007 05:10 pm (UTC)
Okay, THANK YOU for picking up on Top O'The Line smoking with her horse shoe. That image had me cracking up while writing it, truth be told. :D

Oh, Gringo... who *is* this mule he pines for, and WHY does Top O'The Line care?! The plot thickens, bum bum bum!!
( 35 comments — Leave a comment )

Tags

Are You Actually

Reading this? I'm just curious. Because that's really detail-oriented of you. Feel free to stop reading. But you can see that there's more here, so are you going to keep reading? Really? That's pretty dedicated. I'm impressed. No, really. I'm not being sarcastic, why do you get like that? See, this is the problem I have with your mother - yes. YES. I'm going there. It's time we put all of our cards on the table.

I love you, why are you doing this? After all we've been through? You don't have to be like this. You know, still reading. You could be baking a pie. And then sharing it with me.

Time Wot It Is

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