[P] Bitter Victory, Bitter Defeat - Printable Version +- HELOVIA || The Way to the Sun (http://helovia.com) +-- Forum: Out of Character (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=1) +--- Forum: Archives (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11) +--- Thread: [P] Bitter Victory, Bitter Defeat (/showthread.php?tid=10099) |
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Bitter Victory, Bitter Defeat - Lace - 09-29-2013 The stench was incredible. It reminded him of the carcass of a whale he once had found washed up on a beach, many years and miles away. It had been dead for weeks, maybe months, and very little remained of the corpse. Barely more than bones and leathery skin, it had still emanated an odor so foul that he had stumbled away, nose crawling as though filled with maggots, ears buzzing with the sound of fat flies and with the taste of festering blubber and bloated entrails lingering on the tongue for days afterwards. It all came back to him now as he plunged through the mud of the marsh, wading in filth that reached him to the knees, that sucked the hooves in and threatened to hold him down - only reluctantly letting go with a sickening smack as air rushed into the pasty vacuum formed. In a sick, twisted kind of way, Lace actually enjoyed the grime that accumulated on his normally so pristine coat. It gave him a morbid sense of satisfaction to think of the rotting corpses below the surface that slowly decomposed in the moisture, bones softening and eroding away in the grasp of enzymes and microorganisms created with the sole purpose of breaking down what once had been created. The return of the sun only increased the process. In the mere days since the return of the Lord the March had managed to heat up into a sweltering, damp oven filled with buzzing insects, flitting birds and shy, wary animals that scurried overhead in the canopy, staring down at him where he passed as though he was a madman. And maybe he was. It was a challenge to steer clear of the glossy, alluring pools of water that surrounded the larger lake, its surface much too smooth, the scent of its liquid too sweet and tempting. The stallion had been there before, and knew better than to lower the muzzle into the treacherous depths. He had seen what became of the struggling beasts that foolishly had given in to temptation only to get stuck without a source of air, doomed to die from lack of air - or worse, from starvation of being eaten alive by the many predators that loomed in the shadows. This was a graveyard, a temple of death and a monument over the feebleness of life. He was glad that Fajira was off somewhere else, away on one of her solitary adventures that usually ended in the catching of prey. Heaving himself up on a more solid hill in the watery swamp, the stallion paused for a moment to breathe and recover his bearings. It was a mere whim that had driven him into the labyrinth of roots and waterways, a daredevil decision to try and reach the sea this way, instead of walking around it towards the Endless Blue like he normally would have done. By now he was starting to regret it; the sun was high in the sky, midday would soon have passed and he still hadn't gotten even half-way through. A grimace passed over the mud-stained face at the thought of having to spend the night in the march, and with a sigh the grullo pushed himself forward, intent on continuing on for as long as he could see where he was going. It wouldn't do to get lost, not here, of all places. @[Psyche] Dim vales- and shadowy floods- And cloudy-looking woods, Whose forms we can't discover For the tears that drip all over! Huge moons there wax and wane- Again- again- again- RE: Bitter Victory, Bitter Defeat - Psyche - 10-06-2013
RE: Bitter Victory, Bitter Defeat - Lace - 10-06-2013 Golden eyes was drawn towards a black figure in the gloom just as a hoarse, oddly muffled voice called out to him. Hesitating with a frown forming on the brow, Lace watched with narrowed gaze as a dark mare appeared before him, tall and lean with muscles rippling beneath a velvet coat. There was something naggingly familiar about her. He had seen that blaze before, laid eyes on the high socks, the flowing mane and its unsettling decorations of pegasi feathers and rattling teeth. Reluctantly the stallion stopped and waited for her to come closer, his entire body screaming out the wariness he felt towards the stranger. From the twitching ears to the swelling arch of the neck, the silken tail still regrowing from an encounter with fire - an embarrassing story, really, more fit for another time - swaying behind the hocks in an attempt to keep the biting flies away from the gray skin. "Yes?" he replied questioningly. The normally gentle, soothing voice was reserved and short, as always when he first came across strangers who's character he was unable to grasp. This mare... She confused him. For all that she seemed to have been blessed with in terms of health and strength, her eyes were lined with red and bleary, the black cheeks streaked as though by falling tears... Had she been crying? And then, just as he felt the heart begin to soften for the unhappy soul before him, memory struck the stallion like a whip. A tall, imposing figure on the other side of a battlefield. The sickly sweet voice as she bartered with Mirage over the release of hostages taken, the unusual event of a herd leader in the mercy of another... What, by all the gods, had happened for the Dark Empress, the Lady of the Basin and the most wicked mare in all of Helovia to look so broken? Thoroughly confused but too experienced to let it show the silver-maned stallion remained where he was, curiosity now quickly replacing the wariness without for a second relenting any of the suspicion he felt... This was sure to be good. Dim vales- and shadowy floods- And cloudy-looking woods, Whose forms we can't discover For the tears that drip all over! Huge moons there wax and wane- Again- again- again- RE: Bitter Victory, Bitter Defeat - Psyche - 10-15-2013
RE: Bitter Victory, Bitter Defeat - Lace - 11-02-2013 He waited patiently as the black mare hesitantly stepped closer, a mask of calm relaxation concealing the steely readiness he maintained in case this was some kind of trick. The Dark Empress wasn't known for her predictability, neither for any great amount of kindness - no one could blame the Edge stallion for his caution as he allowed her to approach, gilded eyes resting firmly upon her dark frame. It surprised him a bit to find that despite her tired and confused look, Psyche actually appeared quite pleasing to the eye. Of the same height as himself, she was fit and slender, a well-sculpted mare with equal parts strength and femininity. He could see old scars cut through the ebony coat, but they didn't mar her appearance as much as lend her an air of seriousness and respect. Lace had to admit that she must know what she was doing on a battlefield; there was no other way she could have survived to mature in such a way, to the point where he felt a reluctant acknowledgment churn the gut. Her words, as she finally spoke with eyes hesitantly lowered towards the ground, made the silvery grullo flinch. A startled blink interrupted a shocked stare that couldn't hide the astonishment he felt, and for a long moment he remained frozen in place while processing the situation. Eventually he flicked his tail against the hocks and shifted the stance slowly, eyes narrowing around the intense look he gave her. "I'm relieved" he said, an ear turning to the side atop the poll, "as I'm not much for killing if I can avoid it." The masked head tilted slightly as the surprise settled, once more giving place to the curiosity that always seemed to drag him into strange situations. "Why... " he began, then cut himself off hesitantly. Did he want to know why this mare wished to end her life? Did it have anything to do with him? She was an enemy, her reign had come with numerous attempts, successful and otherwise, at disrupting the peace in Helovia. Trouble with the Throat, trouble with the Foothills, the kidnapping of countless Edge members... and they had retaliated in kind, unable and unwilling to tolerate the disrespect. Indeed, for the longest time Lace had viewed Psyche as the epitome of evil, overshadowed only by the Reaper that served beneath her - and that was only because he had faced Deimos in combat and experienced his deadly magic first hand. But as gladly as Lace would see this mare pay for her crimes, it lent a bad taste to the mouth to see her like this. The only other time he had seen her was when she had come to the Edge to negotiate with Mirage, and that time she had been tall, proud, snarky and deceptive, commanding and condescending. This... felt like a completely different mare. Realizing that he had been holding his breath for a long while the stallion let out a sigh and removed his gaze from the lady, uncomfortable with the entire situation. Should he leave, should he stay, what could he say to make her feel better - did he even want her to feel better? An insecure Psyche was surely a weak Psyche, and this was something he should be making use of. Should... But the thought of forcing the mare along back to the Edge didn't sit well with him, even though it was what he ought to be doing. "What happened to you, for the Lady of the Basin to be so far away from home?" The yellow eyes that returned to her well-honed frame seemed almost kind as they questioned her presence. Some of the wariness faded from Lace's voice, and after a quick glance towards the sky he decided that he had time to spare on this meeting; not much, but hopefully enough. Dim vales- and shadowy floods- And cloudy-looking woods, Whose forms we can't discover For the tears that drip all over! Huge moons there wax and wane- Again- again- again- RE: Bitter Victory, Bitter Defeat - Psyche - 11-19-2013
RE: Bitter Victory, Bitter Defeat - Lace - 11-19-2013 On the whole, the situation was pretty bizarre. Here they were, equine and unicorn, racist and equalist, stallion and mare - as opposite one another as two creatures could become. One weak, the other strong (well...), one supposedly at the mercy of the other. What was he supposed to do here? Part of him wanted to cheer the mare up, but the other half screamed in horror over the idiocy such an action surely would prove to be. What, after all, was the point of cheering up a mare who's happiness likely would come at the cost of peace and innocent lives? Lace struggled where he stood, an inner battle raging behind the stoic kindness of the golden eyes - his suave expression betraying nothing of the mixed feelings he held. "What would you like to do, if there were nothing to stop you?" he asked, partly from obligation to continue down the path he had stepped out on no matter how slippery the slope was, partly from honest felt curiosity. As much as he loathed everything Psyche stood for, as much as he couldn't bring himself to forgive the suffering she had brought upon his family, he didn't know her. He had no idea what made a racist mind tick, and this opportunity was just too good to let go of. Cautiously the grullo dared take a half step closer, wary against any sign of aggression from her part. He had no desire to measure himself against such a strong opponent, not today; it was too hot, too cramped and much too gloomy a place to face off on. Besides... she didn't seem to be in any mood for it, gods be blessed. Dim vales- and shadowy floods- And cloudy-looking woods, Whose forms we can't discover For the tears that drip all over! Huge moons there wax and wane- Again- again- again- RE: Bitter Victory, Bitter Defeat - Psyche - 11-22-2013
RE: Bitter Victory, Bitter Defeat - Lace - 11-23-2013 The black-masked head cocked slightly to the side at her comment, lips pursed as though he was sucking on a thought, not quite sure if the taste pleased him or not. He was surprised - it was threatening to become a permanent state of emotion during this conversation - but hid it well. A hoof changed position, a hollow thud reverberating through the air as solid keratin met with half-rotted wood and squelching water-logged soil; a swarm of gnats drew by, closely followed by a small, unassuming bird foraging for lunch. "I'm not... so sure about that" he said, the words slow as if he was trying to hold them back and drag them out at the same time. "It will take time, of course. But we all have things in our past that we aren't proud of... Maybe, if you give them a chance... people would be willing to do the same for you." The look he gave her was thoughtful, measuring. Was she telling the truth? How deep of a change would this 'starting over' prove to cause, if any? "By 'starting over'... I hope you don't mean another unicorn band to wreak havoc with" he added, a slightly wry grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "The Basin is causing enough trouble as it is..." An understatement, of course. They were a source of constant worry and headache, a cause to never completely relax and to keep the border patrols constant and vigilant. Was there any horse in Helovia that slept well, knowing of the threat that loomed in the north? "Tell me..." he said, hesitant yet too curious now that he had an opportunity to ask, "why is it that the horses of the northern herd can't settle with what they have? Why do they cause so much misery and pain to others?" Why do you hate us? But the last words were left unspoken, only asked in a saddened glance, a slight injured droop of the ears... Did she know how much it hurt to know yourself unwanted? Yes, somehow he thought she knew that now. It made him pity her - not because she deserved it, but because of the pain he thought they both could share - finally. Dim vales- and shadowy floods- And cloudy-looking woods, Whose forms we can't discover For the tears that drip all over! Huge moons there wax and wane- Again- again- again- RE: Bitter Victory, Bitter Defeat - Psyche - 12-07-2013
RE: Bitter Victory, Bitter Defeat - Lace - 01-09-2014 He hummed quietly at her words, not so much displeased with the lacking answer as he was surprised that she had responded at all. It had perhaps been an unfair question. How was she supposed to know the reason behind the actions of every single horse she'd once commanded? It would have been impossible, he had to admit, and the only way he would find a definite answer would be to seek out each and every unicorn, every racist and hater out there... A sigh slipped from him then, and for a while the stallion remained silent where he stood. Quite aware of the passing of time, he kept swatting after pesky biters with the tail as he tried to find a solution to the issues of the world, but eventually found himself forced to give up. "You're the only one who can come up with an answer, I suppose" he said unhelpfully, throwing a sideways glance at the black mare. "Just... Don't give up, alright? Everyone deserves a second chance, and it's a big world. There will always be people who don't know you, people willing to forgive and let bygones be bygones. As long as you can forgive yourself, I'm sure everything will work out eventually." To his own surprise the grullo found himself smiling towards the fallen empress, a warm and genuine expression he wouldn't have believed himself able to pull off, knowing who she was and the baggage she carried. The more he spoke to her however, the harder it became to keep up the vision of that bloodthirsty nightmare he always had envisioned when thinking of the basin leader. "Come to think of it... Who leads the Basin now that you're gone?" he asked, tilting the head curiously as he looked at Psyche. Dim vales- and shadowy floods- And cloudy-looking woods, Whose forms we can't discover For the tears that drip all over! Huge moons there wax and wane- Again- again- again- RE: Bitter Victory, Bitter Defeat - Psyche - 02-01-2014
RE: Bitter Victory, Bitter Defeat - Lace - 02-04-2014 It wasn't that Lace trusted her. It wasn't even that he was all that comfortable standing where he was, chatting away with someone who most would consider a nemesis. He certainly hadn't forgotten the names of those dead and gone by the doing of unicorns while this mare sat on the throne - that was probably the one thing he would have to hold against her no matter what he said to comfort her (which, by the way, was a very strange thing to do, now wasn't it). But, contrary to her belief and to his own surprise the question hadn't been asked to gather intelligence on an enemy. It had rather been an unconscious move to sate his own curiosity and, as the names of the new leaders rolled off her tongue, he realized that he had been wanting to exclude a horrible possibility. Alas, the name of the Reaper was uttered and Lace felt a shudder of foreboding run down the spine. He couldn't even tell himself what it was about that stallion that scared him so much - purely aside from how he reeked of death and destroyed life wherever he went - but ever since the fight they'd had, the thought of that storm-gray unicorn made a mixture of wrath and terror rise like bile to fret on the tongue. "Him, eh..." the grullo murmured mostly to himself, unable to mask the unease he felt. "I don't know about you, but I really don't like that horse." The smile had faded and as he looked over at the black mare this time there was concern gleaming behind the amber of his eyes. "I know he was your general and all, but... " this time the shudder was visible, spreading from skin to the neck to the tail and had him shake the head with a sharp snort as though it would be possible to shrug off that creeping sensation. "Are you really going to just stand by and let him take over?" Suddenly his voice sounded annoyed, and Lace was surprised at his own anger as he thought about Psyche's story. "You're satisfied with being ousted like this?" "As for forgiveness... Your subjects are responsible for the deaths of two of my best friends" he said, unable to hold back his thoughts any longer, "yet here I am, talking to you instead of taking revenge. Why? Because as much as I would love shoving all the blame on you I know that you weren't the ones who killed them. If your politics had been different you might have been able to stop them - but then again you might not have. Taking out empty revenge on you would be pointless, my family won't come back even if I did, so rather than dwell on it I'm going to forgive and move on. That is not to say that I will ever forget, however, because I won't." The stallion somehow managed to keep the voice calm despite the emotions that raged within as he spoke, holding the head high and gaze locked with hers. "Don't give up" he repeated. "Many might not have the heart to forgive, but there are plenty out there who at least will give you a chance to repent. I was saved by one of them; I'm sure you will find someone too." ooc: whoop, sudden rant xD Dim vales- and shadowy floods- And cloudy-looking woods, Whose forms we can't discover For the tears that drip all over! Huge moons there wax and wane- Again- again- again- RE: Bitter Victory, Bitter Defeat - Psyche - 02-05-2014
RE: Bitter Victory, Bitter Defeat - Lace - 02-05-2014 She replied in kind to his outburst and Lace was surprised to find himself placated by the calm reason in her words. His black-masked head sunk lower and lower as tension slipped from the muscles, until finally he sighed and nodded. She was right, of course. Better a lost, exiled Psyche than a Psyche on the ice throne - one could be reasoned with, the other was just a giant pain in the ass. Come to think of it, wasn't his objection more for the sake of taking down Deimos than because he thought the black queen should keep ruling her herd? It was quite unfair of him to try and push such a daunting task onto someone else... What he certainly hadn't expected was an apology, however. It left him blinking and struggling to find words as it came, wondering for a second if he truly could accept it just like that. Such a feeble word, so easily spoken... But yes. The simple fact that a condolence actually had been extended somehow eased a bit of the pain that always clenched the heart of the gray steed - as if a piece of the iron shackles had rusted away and left a little more room for movement. "Thanks" he whispered slowly and pinched the eyes shut, growing silent as the images of the golden paints he had loved and lost passed before the inner vision. Eventually a faint smile returned to his face, small and sad yet a smile nonetheless, and as Lace pried open an eye and peered over at the horn-less unicorn there was a glitter of amusement in the look she was given. "Now isn't that a change... I think you might be right, this change seems to be an improvement. Who would have thought that Psyche would ever apologize to anyone..." A mischievous toss of the head let the stallion reach closer to her, and in an almost playful manner he nipped after a lock of hair in her mane. With smacking noises he pried the feet loose of the muddy holes he had sunk into as they spoke, wrinkling the muzzle in disgust at the stinking muck that covered the hooves. "I think... I better get moving" he said reluctantly and threw a look at the sky, noticing how the sun had shifted - noon had passed, and it would take its sweet time getting out of this bog. "I'm due north.. Would you care for some company, or are you heading somewhere else?" In a way it would be a shame to simply leave now that they had begun to get somewhere, but on the other hand Lace didn't have time to stand around. Who would have known that he could find enjoyment in the company of a Basiner - the very idea would have made him laugh an hour ago. Now he realized that he didn't actually want to leave... Fancy that. Dim vales- and shadowy floods- And cloudy-looking woods, Whose forms we can't discover For the tears that drip all over! Huge moons there wax and wane- Again- again- again- RE: Bitter Victory, Bitter Defeat - Psyche - 02-11-2014
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