Is this a dagger which I see before me, the handle toward my hand?

[PRIVATE] Is this a dagger which I see before me, the handle toward my hand?

Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380

Deceased

Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE

RayoDeSoleil

09-17-2013, 11:18 PM

She wanted to be angry. Oh, how badly she wanted it. She longed to feel the flame of fury burst through her veins, yearned for the quickened pace of her heart as the adrenaline of metaphorical battle surged through her veins. As she stood, nostrils flared with defiance as she looked from Deimos to Ulrik and back again, all she desired in this world was to draw herself up like times long past, to pin her auds at their insolence, to reprimand them with the cold fury that she had been so well known for - and yet, she couldn't. No matter how badly she wished for her old self to return, it had been lost with her horn, and that was that.

"You did," she admitted grudgingly to the Reaper, for her attack upon him was unearned. He had done as she would have expected him to do, in times gone past; it was the upstart engineer that had tread so carelessly on her worn nerves, and it was to him that she should rightfully direct her false anger. She could not apologize, for she had not sank so low as to allow herself that particular weakness, but she could hope that he saw her apology in the short statement she directed to him. Or, rather, she hoped for a moment, but then that, too, sank into the oblivion of grief.

Ulrik was too wordy, too above himself by far, and again the spark of rage struck in her chest, and again it failed to catch. "Where were you when she struggled in the Steppe that winter? Where were you when the FrostHeart took his leave? Where were you when we first stepped into this valley? You were not by my side then, and you will not tell me what I did or did not do. You may have my crown - if you can find it." A mirthless laugh left her lips, dry and hollow, and it never reached her eyes. She turned from the engineer, her irritation still short-lived, though she would not soon forget his empty taunts. One day, he would pay.

"You serve the Basin well, Deimos, and for that, I am grateful." It was the closest to praise that she could give to her General. "You would do better than he as Lord." It was a suggestion, the tiniest nudge in the right direction, for she knew then that she could not stay. She would not rule those who ridiculed her behind her back (as she assumed they were doing - not all were as bold as the steed that had so stupidly flaunted her failures in her face), not until she had regained her self worth. Not until she was whole again. No, the DarkEmpress had fallen. The Lady of the Basin was no more.

It was time to start over.

[W/C | ---]

Walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk."
Think think think.