Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE |
| RayoDeSoleil |
09-12-2012, 05:13 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-10-2012, 06:02 PM by Psyche.)
It was early morning in the World's Edge; a thick veil of mist had rolled in from the coast overnight, sheathing the land in obscurity. Along the coast, waves crashed at the base of the massive cliffs, a sound one could only vaguely hear from their tops. It was a lonely kind of place, the edge of the ocean, with poignant silence broken only by the cries of the seagulls, lost in the fog overhead. Further inland, the tops of the lush, majestic trees soared above the morning's fog. Below, the fog had dispersed somewhat, broken by the tree trunks. The pastures, though, were still undercover.
The lone black femme had wandered her way along the coastline under the cover of night. She knew this land perhaps better than some of those who lived here. She had lived here once, after all, and wandering along the coast had been one of her favorite things to do. Out here she could get lost in her thoughts, in her plans, and she didn't have to think about what her next move was. Of course, she thrived in the herd, gathering the beginnings of the Plague to do her bidding, to see her dreams become reality. But sometimes she had to think on her own to see what new ideas she could come up with, how she could make her vengeance come sooner.
And wandering the coastline brought back many powerful memories. Well, not just the coastline - the entire land. Mauja's land. At one time, Mauja had sought to make her his queen. Psyche shook her head, her long, silken black mane flying into disarray. From in between locks of hair showed multicolored feathers, and even a few equine teeth - trophies of her battles, memoirs of those she had killed in order to establish a strictly Unicorn regime. And yet, she was no closer now to that goal than she was when Mauja had been with her. Frustration. Was that what had brought her back all this way?
Of course, she wanted to find Sno, who had left to find her father. But perhaps she wanted to find Mauja, too. Not so that they could have some stupid, romantic lovers' reunion, of course. But so that she could reestablish her rightful place as the leader of the Plague, so that she could take back what was hers. With Mauja on her side, she could regain control and, with a few more followers, begin her takeover of Helovia. A smile crossed her maw as she imagined a Unicorn-only hierarchy. She would give anything to make her lifelong goal a reality. But the inhabitants of the World's Edge would have to find her first.
| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: 2 years |
| Rover |
The prince lay sleeping beside his dam when the first light of dawn filtrated through the naked trees. A layer of dew coated the grass around him and even his lynx mantle had a little moist on it. Slowly Tamlin opened his dual colored eyes, blinked twice and lifted his head from the wet ground. He glanced at his mother and then he quietly stood. On swift little hooves he sneaked off into the forest. A broad smile parted the lips of the mischievous little prince as he picked his way through the morning mist. He was eager to see where this day would take him, what he would learn and who he would meet.
He happened to wander towards the cliff, the sheer drop into the sea. He’d never been too close to the edge, but this morning he felt a bit more reckless than he usually did. Carefully he stepped towards it, one hoof at the time. He leaned forward. Peeked over the edge and then retreated quickly several steps. His heart pumping because of the thrill he neared the edge again and looked down. This time he dared to stay there and through the mist he saw something… someone.
Tamlin backed up again and started walking along the edge. Who was down there? And how could he get there? Just then a path revealed itself for the young prince. It seemed well enough traveled and it zigzagged down the side of the cliff. First Tamlin hesitated, then he took a deep breath and stepped closer to the trail. ”I am brave enough! he whispered to himself and started climbing down.
He was scared out of his wits before he was even halfway down, but the foal had no way to turn on the narrow path so he was forced to keep on going. When he had finally reached the shoreline his legs were shaking so much that he had trouble standing. His little head, with its dull knob hung low and he began to freeze as the sweat on his body dried and the winds of the ocean squeezed the warmth out of him.
Then he saw her. A black mare with feathers and teeth weaved into her mane and tail. She looked powerful and her eyes told him a story of an iron willed femme who was extremely set on her goal. It almost scared the little prince since he got the feeling she could, and would, walk throng anything to get what she wanted. Who was she?
Tamlin
the blood-flower child
|
 he sows in blood
Permission to use violence and magic against Tamlin at all times granted
Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE |
| RayoDeSoleil |
She had never been one to beg her way back into good graces with anyone. Rather, she took their forgiveness from them, not giving them the chance to bequeath it. Perhaps it was her feminine charm that she utilized quite easily, or perhaps it was her sly tongue, weaving stories and fantasies for anyone to believe. In any case, as she contemplated her return to the Edge - quite late, now that she was already far within the borders - she could see no scenario in which she would beg. That was for the lesser creatures of the world - the Equines, perhaps, and the Pegasi. Though, perhaps even the Pegasi would not stoop so low. At least they were worthy opponents, or more so than the simple Equines. And she was far mightier than any of them.
Psyche did not even stop to consider the effect that time might have had on her relationship with Mauja. She was not naive enough to think that she could waltz right in and everything would be just as she had left it, but she was arrogant enough to believe that she was the center of the universe, and that he would instantly return to her side, and she into his good graces. Never would she imagine that he might have moved on, that he might not care for her to return to the Edge. No, she was convinced that he would be pleased at her appearance, that he would desire her as he had before. And it was on this that the dark femme was relying.
What Psyche certainly did not expect was to see anyone out this late, particularly not a foal. And so when she saw the form emerge from the mist, not big enough to even be weaned yet, she tensed immediately. What in the world? But then she saw the barely sprouted horn from the center of his forehead, and she relaxed. He was of her kind, then, and likely from the Edge herd. Psyche's mind raced - she could use this. A daring rescue of a foal wandered off, down the side of the cliff, no less, and she would have instant gratitude. She smiled, satisfied, and threw a greeting softly into the ocean's breeze. "Hello, young one. What are you doing wandering about without your mother, and so late?"
| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: 2 years |
| Rover |
The strange unicorn spoke softly too him, but Tamlin took a step back. He didn’t know who this mare was, and even if her voice was sweet he didn’t trust her. The sound of the waves, the seagulls and the wind added to the stress of the little colt. He wasn’t much older than a month and he had nothing to defend himself with so if this mare wanted to hurt him, he was probably doomed.
He leaned back on his black haunches and happened to scratch his hock on a sharp rock. A small trickle of blood began rolling down his leg. A couple of stains landed on a rock nearby and as Tamlin’s slight fear of the black mare grew the crimson droplets lit up and was then suddenly covered by clover flowers. A bit boosted by his involuntary demonstration of his magic the prince straightened up. ”Don’t you mean early?” he retorted and met her amber gaze. His confidence was growing now and he spoke to her again. ”I am Prince Tamlin. Who are you?”
His voice had a hint of content in it and his dual colored eyes traveled over her body with a snobbish look such a small foal shouldn’t even posses. But the prince was too aware of his greatness and the future glory he would win. He was certain he would be king when he grew up, his mother had told him that and mother was always right. Surely this black mare would recognize a future king when she saw him? He was clad in a lynx mantle, wasn’t he? And that ought to give some hints on his royal blood!
[ooc; sorry, strange post ^^]
Tamlin
the blood-flower child
|
he sows in blood
Permission to use violence and magic against Tamlin at all times granted
Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE |
| RayoDeSoleil |
Fury. It laced through her veins at the arrogance of the little brat. How dare he speak to her that way? She had birthed a princess once, she could have been queen once, and now she'd returned for her rightful crown only to be told off by some insolent pest? And he called himself a prince?! But wait - how could this be? If he were a prince, that would mean that Mauja had sired another, or that he had been overthrown. But no, surely not. The femme could almost see traits of Mauja's in this colt, after all. So he must have sired another. And so continued her fury. How dare Mauja have a bratty little prince in her absence?
I will kill the mother of this child, Psyche decided. Taking over her territory simply wouldn't do. Mauja had been hers to command, hers. And what about Sno? Had he simply forgotten that he already had a foal? Had he simply forgotten her, forgotten their plans? Perhaps she should send this brat packing and go from this land, start anew elsewhere. It was an option. She could return later and get her vengeance upon this other femme and the colt before her now. Or - a new idea struck her - she could continue her current plan and ascend the throne anyway. She could always cast out the little prince and his mother later, if she played her cards right. They wouldn't need this one - Tamlin, his name was - if Sno was to be heir. And they wouldn't need any heir for a long time. Their reign of power would be glorious.
These thoughts flashed through her head in the blink of an eye as she regarded the young one carefully. She must play this carefully, then. Gain his trust. But how? She spoke again after a moment's pause. "Early, then, I suppose you're right, young one." A smile. Sweet, demure, motherly. "Ah, a prince? Well, aren't I a lucky one, to be meeting such a handsome little prince this night? But surely your mother must be worried about you? Do you wander from her side often, young Prince?"
Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER |
|
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize
& Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage
Neo |
partycrasher. :D I hope you don't mind. <3
 His sleep did not follow patterns, was not ruled by night or day. When his body asked for it, he slept. When it was done, he woke. He ran on the demands of his internal clock, and so, it was, to him, not strange at all to walk his land in the gloom of predawn. The familiar mist swirled around his legs, pressed against his alabaster body, left little droplets of water on the tips of his hairs. The sound of his hoofbeats were muted, the fog thickening around his face each time he exhaled. When the sun rose, the world would shimmer with the glow of the dew. A content smile spread across the King's face, something absentminded in his blue gaze. There were few things as peaceful as walking ones home when most of the herd slept, passing their shapes slumbering peacefully in twos and threes, sides rising and falling to a steady, relaxed pace, breath pooling around their muzzles. And he, he was their vigilant guardian, the guide in their life. It brought a proud sense of purpose to him. To him, his Kingship was not about power and arrogance; it was about being a servant to your own people. A hard task with much toiling in the dirt when no one looked, but one that brought at least him great satisfaction. The World's Edge was a haven, something he had desired and they had agreed to - and now, it was their desire too, and thus it remained like it was. The game he played gave them this safety, but he had no doubts that it was a temporary thing. He knew the way the rest of Helovia watched him - with suspicious, dark eyes. As if they could smell the racism on his coat.
The alluring scent of Lotus drifted into his nostrils, and the familiar sense of affection entered his mind - coupled with a recoiling dislike, disgust and fear. Mauja turned in a different direction, not wanting to face the miasma of emotions. It reminded him of acrid woodsmoke, and Keahi cast into stark relief by flames. It reminded him of all the things gone wrong, of Tamlin, who he loved no less for his mother's sins, and of Snö, doing like her mother and running off.
You said you didn't like her. And yet you did the same thing.
He came across his son's trail instead, the scent of his flanks hanging upon branches and lying across the ground. Orangemoon was leaving the trees bare, and had it been a colder night, it would be frost upon the leaves, not dew. For lack of a better occupation, he followed Tamlin's trail as it lead, alone, towards the Edge. Surely he'd not fathered a colt stupid enough to walk off the Edge to his death? He tried to suppress the worry, yet it is in a parent's blood to worry - what if he'd been frightened, and run off in the dark? And when the Edge came in sight he saw nothing but the fog and the ocean, the trail leading to it and going cold. "Tamlin!" he cried out, worried; where was the damn child? Casting about, he walked this length of the edge a few times, before finding the path which led down. It seemed his foolish child had decided to go on an adventure without a supervisor. The colt was a few notches too proud of his own good, and no matter how high he held his little head, he was no match for a bear or a cougar. Damn it all. That gene surely came from Lotus.
Sure-footed, something that had come with age he guessed, he made his way down the narrow path. At least Tamlin was smaller and would've had more space on it. Grunting, the King hugged the mountainside, trying to avoid patches of loose rocks and gravel in order to not be chucked off. Each time the path turned back on itself he had to nearly break his ribs to turn around without falling to his death. Grumbling under his breath about stupid colts he finally made it onto the sand, fog still blanketing the world. Through it, he heard voices; Tamlin's, and... Psyche's.
Well, at least his son hadn't fallen to his death, but talking to a jackal...
He could see his son's proud stance silhouetted through the fog, knew the arrogance of his tone too well. Mauja growled for a moment before slipping closer, thankful that his white coat masked him fairly well in the mist. "You need to learn to temper your tongue, son," he told him sternly, aiming a sharp nip towards his haunches once he came up beside them. "A great King is not arrogant, but humble."
His blue gaze moved on, to Psyche - she looked just like he remembered her, feathers and teeth woven into her mane, a sleek creature of midnight black with a few white markings to break it up. The woman who had worked on stealing his heart, who had promised to help him cleanse the world, who said she was different.. and then she'd run off, taking their daughter with her. His heart hardened, gut coiling itself, body preparing to protect from harm - emotional harm. He doubted she'd leap at him for whatever reasons. "Psyche." Had she not been gone for so long, taking Snö with her... mayhaps he would've greeted her as of old, calling her Sir, but now her name was just a stone falling from his mouth. Too much had changed since she disappeared in the early summer. He didn't even know who he himself was anymore, even less who she was.
Maybe she was just the same.
night-fate-stock -- dreamofsandman -- deirdre-T -- deviantart.com // i-mi.deviantart.com |
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here
| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: 2 years |
| Rover |
The mist clung to Tamlin’s body, making his coat and mantle damp and from the sea salt blew over him - sticking uncomfortable to the thin parts of his skin. However uncomfortable he was under the cliffs he began feeling more secure about the black mare. He could not see through her mask, could not interpret her thoughts and read her expression so he saw only the motherly smile. He was after all a young soul not trained in the art of detecting lies and telling sincerity from acting.
”Ah, a prince? Well, aren't I a lucky one, to be meeting such a handsome little prince this night? But surely your mother must be worried about you? Do you wander from her side often, young Prince?" Ever so slowly a smile spread on his lips. Even if he didn’t appreciate her comment about straying from his mother he deemed she at least knew how to treat a prince. And she was right about the handsome part too! Tamlin proudly arched his neck, pointing his little knob of a horn towards the mare, who still hadn’t spoken her name. But Tamlin didn’t need to wonder long about that…
"You need to learn to temper your tongue, son,"
The young prince jumped high at the sound of his father’s stern voice. The little nip landed on the backside of his thigh and he yelped as Mauja’s teeth pinched his hide. The yelp came mostly of surprise, but also because no child as young as Tamlin wants to disappoint their parents. He lowered his neck and chewed and white foam started to show at the corners of his mouth as he backed up. ”Já, faðir. Fyrirgefið mér." he whispered before his father directed his attention to the mare. Psyche.
The last words of the ice king however echoed in the young colt’s curious mind, they were etched into the back of his head, showing no sign of wanting to leave him - ever. ”A great King is not arrogant, but humble.” Silently and without following what was going on between the black mare and his father the colt pondered the words. He knew not the meaning of humble nor did he quite understand how one was arrogant, but nevertheless the little lecture stuck with him. After all he always listened carefully to his father. And to learn something from this seemed vital for earning Mauja’s approval and respect, which was something very important to Tamlin.
”Hver er hún?" the colt quietly asked his father and gestured towards the mare he now knew went by the name of Psyche. Mauja seemed to know her and the heavy voice of his father made Tamlin feel a little uneasy. Maybe the mare wasn’t welcome here?
Tamlin
the blood-flower child
|
he sows in blood
Permission to use violence and magic against Tamlin at all times granted
Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE |
| RayoDeSoleil |
Arrogance. Where had the prince learned such arrogance? Psyche watched him swell with pride from her sly compliments, perplexed by his attitude. Her daughter had never acted as such - of course, a mother's view of her get would never be an accurate depiction. So inclined they are to criticize others, never stopping to check that their own slate is clean. Sno had surely been arrogant at times, had surely been disobedient. In reality, perhaps there was much the half-siblings had in common. But then, Psyche hadn't seen Sno since she'd left, and had only just met Tamlin; her pride in her own offspring blinded her to their similarities.
A flick of an ear caught the distant voice, a voice that she had once known. How had the FrostHeart changed in her absence? He had fathered another, after all - had he found someone new to make his queen? And then, there he was, appearing from the mists like an apparition, a ghost. It seemed that he was not quite there until he stood in front of her; such was the effect of the fog. His first words were for Tamlin: a scolding, and one which pleased the shadow-mare. How she had longed to curb the youngling's pride.
Amber eyes met blue, a too-sweet smile on the femme's maw. "Mauja," she greeted him coyly. His greeting had been cold - she deserved that, she supposed. She had made promises that she had not made good on, and for that, she was sorry. Sorry that what had once been an excellent alliance now lay in ruins. But then, that made her return a challenge, and Psyche did like a good challenge. "You seem to have been quite busy, darling." Would he catch the nuance in her words, the stab for fathering Tamlin? Probably. Truth be told, her own pride was somewhat injured, for he had sought once to make her his queen, and now... Now there was a prince, mothered by another. Would that make her goals unattainable?
Walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk."
Think think think. | Background - Burtn.deviantart.com
Horse - shi-stock.deviantart.com
Teeth - Minotaur-Queen.deviantart.com
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|
Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER |
|
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize
& Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage
Neo |
He wasn't looking at Psyche when lecturing his son, merely looked at the young, black child covered by the skin of a dead cat. Quite understandably he jumped into the air, instantly dropping his arrogant manners. Mauja didn't pity him - he had to learn how to go about things in life, and if the King never scolded him or tried to steer him down the right paths, well, how would he ever learn? You needed someone to tell you when you did wrong, but you also needed someone to praise you when you did right. So when Tamlin backed and chewed with a lowered head, the sharpness went out of Mauja's eyes and reached out to blow hot air onto the child's poll. The lesson had been learned, hopefully, and Mauja had been pleased with his son's reaction - submission, obedience, indicating that he understood he'd done something wrong. While most young colts believed they were the center of the world and would be splendid dictators, few were. The longer you let them think it, the more force you needed to beat it out of them. So damn, what was Lotus teaching him? That he'd be the next King? That he'd be glorious, just because he was the son of a King? Pahh. Mauja hadn't stuck the title 'princess' onto Snö and hadn't meant to stick 'prince' on Tamlin either. That had been Lotus doing. If not for this child of his own body, he'd regret that night. But as a parent, you cannot regret your child. It is simply not an option.
"Snö's móðir," he told his child, watching the black mare as she purred his own name. Damn, why did it make him want to run away? Why did everything involving mares make him want to flee? He tensed involuntarily, so swift and minor a movement in the foggy darkness that he hoped it'd go unnoticed. "A stallion has his urges," he said, aloof, yet something vaguely amused laced the small, quirky smile on his face. He knew this state of mind - this, hiding, pulling back within himself, fleeing to the depths of his snow castle and slamming on a facade. It had happened before. Instead of fleeing physically, he flirted with disaster, yielding a vestige of control to the very hormones which had landed him in this situation to being with (folly). But what was he to say - to do? Surely she could not think everything would be as she left it. That he'd just twiddled his ears and waited. I didn't mean to, but he had never promised, either, not to - never claimed to love her. Maybe in time it could've happened... But his heart was all scars, black distrust anxiety. He couldn't trust her. She'd left once. She could leave again. Couldn't know if she lied or not, no no, never know, never know. What if she just smiled and promised and did it all again?
The panic was raising its head like an ugly beast, yet outwardly he remained calm, just blinking solemnly and watching her. Within, he ran around in a frenzy, trying to shut all the open doors and return some sort of equilibrium to his existence.
Mares. Why?
"Why?" his tongue mimicked his mind, though certainly not wanting the answer to such a philosophical question - but simply why she left. Why she came back.
Why the moon rotated around the earth and the earth around the sun and all the stars spun in the universe. Why breath gave them life and hearts grew brittle with age and why bodies decayed. Why; and he needed an anchor, set adrift within his own mind, trapped in a storm of emotion and trauma. Without thinking, he reached down, touching his muzzle to Tamlin's black shoulder. Steady. Psyche wasn't going to eat him. No one was. He hadn't even loved her. So that meant it was just the rest of the world being misaligned, and, defeated, Mauja sighed in his mind.
night-fate-stock -- dreamofsandman -- deirdre-T -- deviantart.com // i-mi.deviantart.com |
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here
| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: 2 years |
| Rover |
Snö… The young colt didn’t know why her name created a sudden distaste within him. Maybe it too was Lotus’ doing or he remembered the little scene Snö had caused at the day of his birth. Maybe it was the siblings’ fate to be rivals. Nonetheless to hear her name made his muzzle wrinkle for a second before Mauja lowered his head over him and all but the feeling of safety was chased from his mind. Unaware of the turmoil of emotions within his father Tamlin nuzzled Mauja’s spotted shoulder and stayed happily in his embrace.
He had the feeling that his father wasn’t too happy to see this mare again and Tamlin told himself he couldn’t care less if Snö’s mother was thrown out in the cold. But nonetheless the little prince couldn’t shake the fact that the black stranger had complimented him and so he felt compelled to help her case a little. ”Father,” he said and looked into the blue gaze of his sire. ”Psyche was really nice to me, you know. She was worried for my safety even.”
With a child’s honesty in voice and face he smiled towards the black mare. He was too young to know the danger she could pose to his life. She had all the reasons to want to kill him, but he didn’t see that. He saw only a mare who’d called him handsome and already at this young age Tamlin’s vanity was his weakest point.
Tamlin
the blood-flower child
|
he sows in blood
Permission to use violence and magic against Tamlin at all times granted
Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE |
| RayoDeSoleil |
"Why?"
The question hung uselessly in the silence between them, a silence that was so much more awkward than the shadow-mare had hoped. Her expectations had been too high - no, not too high. She was not one for high expectations of, well, anyone. Except herself. What had she expected from this meeting, anyway? For him to welcome her home with open arms? To tell her that he needed her? That it wasn't the same without her? No, these were expectations for weaker femmes - and Psyche was not weak. And yet, she could not define her expectations. Why? The Frostheart's question echoed in her mind. Such a simple question, but with so many answers. So many answers that she could not put into words, even to herself.
Her hesitation was marked; a white-dipped hoof lifted, a step forward was taken. "That's difficult to answer," was her final, quiet response. There was something quite vulnerable in her orange gaze, something that she was not aware of; but her momentary slip was quickly covered again under a cool, distant exterior. She took a few steps closer, still leaving a respectful distance between herself and the father-son pair. She was trying to decide how to work her way back into the herd when the youngling spoke, seeming to come to her defense.
Ah, the innocence of children. They were so trusting at that age, unable to tell the difference between goodwill and devious flattery. And yet it surprised her, this childish kindness. It was not something that she had known prior to giving birth to her own child, and it was not something that she had quite gotten used to. And so it was some surprise that she listened to the babe speak of her kindness - a word never used to describe the shadow-mare before. Many called her ruthless, cunning, a jackal in mind and, sometimes, body. When he smiled in her direction, she returned it, needing to keep the facade of sweetness to the boy, relishing in his trust. For if the young prince trusted her, Mauja might be more inclined to accept her again.
Walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk."
Think think think. | Background - Burtn.deviantart.com
Horse - shi-stock.deviantart.com
Teeth - Minotaur-Queen.deviantart.com
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Photomanipulation - RayoDeSoleil
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|
Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER |
|
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize
& Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage
Neo |
A wraith, there upon the foggy beach, breathing in brine and water, drinking in the sound of it lapping against shore. His shore. Every so often, the mist around his muzzle thickened, a plume of white - life - drifting upwards to somewhere above his head. He felt detached. Distant. As if the black, warm body cradled against him wasn't here, as if Psyche, bright amber eyes focused on someone else - someone who wasn't he. An impostor. Yet Mauja's gaze, ever swirling, never showing, spun across the landscape, across the bodies, his black-tipped ears straining to catch the faint sounds of their heartbeats. Chests rose and fell. Time seemed to slow. "That's difficult to answer," she said, and he felt some faint hope flicker, and die out. Of course she would not tell. Of course she'd not rip open her black chest and spill her bloody secrets on his sands, bare the truth to him. She was just as secretive as he, clutching truth so close to his bones that the lies filled every void, making it near impossible to untangle everything - life, words, emotions, plans. Which parts of his schemes were honest, which parts things he did simply because the lies had etched themselves do deeply that he thought them to be truth? Psyche had wished to dance as he did, upon the knife's edge, cutting up her feet if she misstepped. She had wanted to lead the Plague but had abandoned it all. Of course she would not come home and tell him why.
He had no real desire to answer her, merely stared at her with a stubborn sort of look on his face - thinking, guarding his secrets, mixing truth with lie and making sense of nothing. Tamlin spoke, and like a robot, the father repeated some of the words before breaking into a harsh laughter. "Worried for your-? Pah," and his cold, calculating gaze settled upon the mare again. When on earth had Psyche cared for anything beyond her own advancement, and that of her daughter (or even that, as she had taken the filly and left)? She had barbed him, thinly veiled, about Tamlin's conception - the notion that she'd care for the snowcap colt was laughable. Mauja snorted, vaguely amused, and gave his head a minor shake. Tamlin was too young to understand. And if Mauja challenged her about it... his son would get caught up in the middle of a relationship war. He had no desire to put him through that.
"What do you want, Psyche?" he asked her tiredly. I gave you everything. Seed, trust, duty - I would have given you a crown, had you not left me. What more do you want to take from me? He could not believe it if she said she was back to exist, for him, for Snö - Snö wasn't even here god's sake! Snö had taken one look at Tamlin and bolted like a rabbit, and he guessed he should be thankful that Psyche wasn't running too. But would they ever get along? Lotus aspired for something, that much was obvious to the King, and Psyche would get in her way. Lotus would get in Psyche's way. Tamlin and Snö were tangled up in God knows what. If not for his children, he would've asked the Gods to turn back time and freeze the semen in his balls so he'd not be able to produce any child. Then maybe the subtle, warring mares would not seek to use him as a weapon in their striving for power.
night-fate-stock -- dreamofsandman -- deirdre-T -- deviantart.com // i-mi.deviantart.com |
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here
| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: 2 years |
| Rover |
Even if he was too young to understand sarcasm, his sire’s laugh still made him a bit uncomfortable. He backed away a bit, his ears angled back in confusion and slight worry. Had he said something wrong? Something funny? His dual colored eyes lowered towards the ground and he pressed his lips together, silently vouching to be quiet the rest of Psyche’s and Mauja’s conversation.
Then Tamlin looked up again. The sun was rising now. The eastern sky was getting lighter and the waves had gotten a golden lining. The wind was picking up and above the trio seagulls sailed on the air currents, their ugly singing echoing over the beach and the ocean. Even the mist was getting thinner, letting more light though the milky veil. It was the first time Tamlin saw the sunrise and he thought it was glorious! The golden and fiery hues, the feeling of everything coming back to life, the slight warmth from the rays of the sun… the little colt almost purred like a cat.
True to his young age the prince had already forgotten Mauja’s laugh and his own worries. He watched the dawning of a new day with a child’s innocent eyes. He had no idea what the future had in store for him, or for the unicorn herd of the Edge. War was approaching and Tamlin would find himself observing something a young boy should not. But that was not now, that lay in a hidden future and Tamlin was happy just to stand by his father’s side, watching the sunrise.
Tamlin
the blood-flower child
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he sows in blood
Permission to use violence and magic against Tamlin at all times granted
Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE |
| RayoDeSoleil |
So cold. Any warmth that the shadow-mare might have felt for the Frostheart was shoved to the back of her dark mind. Of course, how could she have forgotten - the name 'Frostheart' was a hard-won title proclaiming the icy labyrinth that was was his soul. Why should she have expected anything less of him? It wasn't as though he had changed. It wasn't as though she had changed. Perhaps her decision to return had been a foolish folly, destined to end in all the same ways. She had left he who would have made her Queen, he who would have helped her see through her worldly goals, he who had given her a daughter, a life, a future. As they say, history often repeats itself. Why should this be any different?
The little colt's shift in attention caught the shadow-mare's amber gaze, and she cast a weary glance toward the distant horizon. A glimmer of surprise was set aflame in her breast as the ever-present fog began to shred into whisps. Brilliant hues of yellow, orange, even pink stretched across the horizon, the light offering a new warmth as morning broke. It was not her favorite time of day, as the fae preferred the solace that the night offered, but something about the young prince's wonder was reminiscent of her own youth. A distant memory broke through the impenetrable wall of her mind: brilliant hues, her mother's warmth, a lonely feeling. A flicker of something indescribable entered her gaze; she preferred the memories of her later childhood, of her father's approval. After all, her mother had left her. Giselle had left her. Everyone left her unless she left first.
She turned her cranium from the morning's display. It would do her no good to spend her time on useless days past. What had she done with her life except ruin her chances of achieving what she wanted for the Unicorn race? But no, that was what she had come to remedy. The cool, calculating look had returned as she raised her orbs to Mauja once more. "Well, darling, I'm sure you know what I want." It was a slightly seductive tone - perhaps not the best to take with the stallion whom she had run from - but it had worked for her before. Even still, to earn her way back into his good graces - or at least be granted toleration - she would have to give more than that. "I'd like to return, Mauja. I should not have left my duties here." She would not say that she ought not have left him. Nor would she apologize for her actions. But she was truthful, to an extent, and that was the best her dark heart could offer.
[W/C | 459]
Walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk."
Think think think. | Background - Burtn.deviantart.com
Horse - shi-stock.deviantart.com
Teeth - Minotaur-Queen.deviantart.com
Feathers - RaduLuchian.com
Photomanipulation - RayoDeSoleil
Coding - RayoDeSoleil |
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Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER |
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Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize
& Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage
Neo |
Bloodied red and fiery orange arced across the horizon and into the world of the living, the sun's display of radiant splendor setting the fog aflame, slowly beginning to burn it away. It played against their hides as if they stood near a flickering fire, yet there was only the star slipping into the world of day - he would not have looked at it at all, had not Tamlin's gaze been glued to the horizon and his own chanced to stray across his chastised son's face. From the corner of his eye he saw even Psyche, cruel and dark as she was, enraptured by the display, and for the briefest of moments he chose to forget about life, about mares and unruly children, and others aspiring to his throne. For that moment, a fraction of a heartbeat, the ghost of a smile drifted across his face, the vague notion that this should be right: that it should be the two of them and a child, standing like this, but at peace, and not with tension bonding them together. There was much he'd give for a life which did not constantly seek to trip him up, but if he always bowed his head, meek, and turned to flow with the stream, he would never achieve his goals, or bring the dreams in his head to pass. Somehow, the road he had chosen was a tough one, hammered hard beneath the hooves of a thousand soldiers and the only medium he could think of fitting enough to write it down in was blood. Helovia would not simply roll over at his command; he would have to wrench her from the grasp of his enemies, and bend her to his will with sheer power.
The moment faded, and left him stranded in the dull, listless reality again, wary of the witch come back to his cliff. Where once passion had been, there was only apathy. How had it come to this? He had always been cold of heart, suspicious and quick to distrust, so it was no surprise that he recoiled quickly after being bitten - afraid to get burned again. She ran once, and in his mind, she was doomed to always run until the day she died and hadn't. There was something infinitely sad in the notion, but there was no way he could shake it. That was just the way he was, but knowing it did not always make being any easier. Tamlin remained enchanted by the display of a new day breaking, but Psyche, grown as she was, had returned her attention to him. "Well, darling, I'm sure you know what I want." His ears fell against his neck, disappearing in the thick cascade of white mane, and he nearly growled at her to get out then and there. He didn't need her flirting with him on top of everything else; through the bed was not the way she'd get back into his good graces. Fortunately for her, she had brains enough to remedy her slip of tongue, and he heaved a weary sigh. His ears relaxed from their strained position, but did not flip forward. "No," he agreed tiredly. "You should not have." But you did.
For a moment longer he was silent, before giving his head the slightest of shakes. What harm would it do, to let her back? He doubted she'd had a change of heart and wanted peace, to crawl in the dust with the hornless vermin, so she would do nothing but strengthen his cause - right? "Just don't leave again," he told her quietly, wishing he could smile like he used to and say welcome back with that lopsided grin of his, something warm, happy in his blue eyes, but he couldn't. He couldn't do anything but feel heavy and weighted down, as if his heart was made of iron, his soul of lead. He looked at her for a moment longer, something like confused pain in his gaze, before turning to nudge Tamlin's hip. "Við skulum fara heim." They'd have to go the long way around, because there was no way that he'd climb that ledge a second time that morning.
night-fate-stock -- dreamofsandman -- deirdre-T -- deviantart.com // i-mi.deviantart.com |
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here
| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: 2 years |
| Rover |
[I think this is a good end so I won't be posting Tamlin again. But RayoDeSoleil; feel free to post Psyche once more if you feel the need ;D]
he sows in blood
Permission to use violence and magic against Tamlin at all times granted
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