.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
07-19-2016, 05:52 PM
I'm sitting pretty in my brand new scars,
and you'll never know —
and you'll never know —
“Oh, it was amazing.” The winged mare began, speaking of the beauty of the magic she held before crossing Helovia’s threshold. Glasgow watched her with ease, finding the conversation pleasant and perhaps even the tiniest bit comforting. And as she spoke of leveling trees, Glasgow let a small chuckle escape her lips. “You would’ve fit in, in my homeland.” She admitted, offering the girl a wink as she too chuckles. But then, the conversation is moving on and the scarred Glazier allows it with open arms. Lyanna admits that she could believe that Glasgow looked different beforehand. The Glazier caught the mare’s eyes as she asked what happened. Her ears wavered unsure if she really did want to explain. But, what could it hurt? Nobody knew. Nobody would torment her further for the choices she made back home.
There were Gods here and whether or not she believed in them, perhaps they might protect her from the ghosts of her past. So the Glazier waited to explain until after she showed the mare the holes to get through the wall. As she made it to the other side she turned to watch as the mare took a step forward as the question hit her ears. A small smile grew on her scarred lips as she shook her head. “No. It was like this when I got here, I’m not sure what happened. I heard some stories about an invasion that happened – not sure if that has anything to do with it, though.” She admitted while waiting for the mare to fully cross over the crumbling glass wall. And when she had, Glasgow’s glassy gaze sought out the mares as her smile began to falter ever so slightly.
“Back to your previous question… My sister had too much pride being winged. She was very vain, very narcissistic. The Gods from our homeland had graced her with the wings and beauty to spread the word of the grace of the gods. I did it with ease. It was easy to tell people to join us and be a part of something so big and so beautiful. But I didn’t have the wings that my sister preened every night – I didn’t have the fateful mirror to look into and speak to myself.” She paused, reminiscing as she shifted her weight. “Eventually, she began to care for herself more than spreading the word. And so the gods began to punish her. First they tore her wings away – the gift she had given them for her to do such a simple task. She was furious, using her magic in an attempt to wage a war on the gods. Obviously that wasn’t going to work, anyone with a sane mind would know that. But she tried, and failed.” She tore her head away from Lyanna for a second, letting her vision land on the shards of glass by their feet.
“I was stupid. I tried to protect her when the gods removed their presence and allowed the demons to come. But she was my sister, and I always told myself I’d do whatever I could to protect her. They ended up killing her after all, then tortured me – scarring me to “remember the happier days with a smile on my face” they said. Then they left me there bleeding for days until I was somehow well enough to move on. I thought I had died, but I didn’t. And sometimes I wonder if I should have that day – what even kept me here?” She paused, seeking the pegasus’ gaze once more. “My wounds healed, but the scars and the blood remain as reminders I suppose. They even broke off the tip of my first horn – I hadn’t realized it until I found it on my way out of the ruins of my birthplace. I tied it here to keep with me.” She said solemnly, turning slightly and flicking her tail toward the mare – showing the shard of glass that was her horn that was braided into the gray strands of her tail.
“Sorry, that got depressing. It was nice to, well, get it off the chest. You’re the first one I’ve told.” Her voice was quiet and she offered the mare a small smile despite the dark course their conversation had gone.
"Talk."
There were Gods here and whether or not she believed in them, perhaps they might protect her from the ghosts of her past. So the Glazier waited to explain until after she showed the mare the holes to get through the wall. As she made it to the other side she turned to watch as the mare took a step forward as the question hit her ears. A small smile grew on her scarred lips as she shook her head. “No. It was like this when I got here, I’m not sure what happened. I heard some stories about an invasion that happened – not sure if that has anything to do with it, though.” She admitted while waiting for the mare to fully cross over the crumbling glass wall. And when she had, Glasgow’s glassy gaze sought out the mares as her smile began to falter ever so slightly.
“Back to your previous question… My sister had too much pride being winged. She was very vain, very narcissistic. The Gods from our homeland had graced her with the wings and beauty to spread the word of the grace of the gods. I did it with ease. It was easy to tell people to join us and be a part of something so big and so beautiful. But I didn’t have the wings that my sister preened every night – I didn’t have the fateful mirror to look into and speak to myself.” She paused, reminiscing as she shifted her weight. “Eventually, she began to care for herself more than spreading the word. And so the gods began to punish her. First they tore her wings away – the gift she had given them for her to do such a simple task. She was furious, using her magic in an attempt to wage a war on the gods. Obviously that wasn’t going to work, anyone with a sane mind would know that. But she tried, and failed.” She tore her head away from Lyanna for a second, letting her vision land on the shards of glass by their feet.
“I was stupid. I tried to protect her when the gods removed their presence and allowed the demons to come. But she was my sister, and I always told myself I’d do whatever I could to protect her. They ended up killing her after all, then tortured me – scarring me to “remember the happier days with a smile on my face” they said. Then they left me there bleeding for days until I was somehow well enough to move on. I thought I had died, but I didn’t. And sometimes I wonder if I should have that day – what even kept me here?” She paused, seeking the pegasus’ gaze once more. “My wounds healed, but the scars and the blood remain as reminders I suppose. They even broke off the tip of my first horn – I hadn’t realized it until I found it on my way out of the ruins of my birthplace. I tied it here to keep with me.” She said solemnly, turning slightly and flicking her tail toward the mare – showing the shard of glass that was her horn that was braided into the gray strands of her tail.
“Sorry, that got depressing. It was nice to, well, get it off the chest. You’re the first one I’ve told.” Her voice was quiet and she offered the mare a small smile despite the dark course their conversation had gone.
"Talk."
—if you
don't ever
try again.
@Lyanna sorry it took so long! Was trying to figure out how to put it xD
