Elizabeth
the fallen
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Constant wandering through an empty desert drove the mares mind wild. Psychotic emotions, temptations, swirling about her head. Marking their distant, yet familiar, annoyance in her eyes. For some reason she felt broken, owned, less of who she was destined to be. Drained and down. Useless broken. She moped on. Caring less of anything anymore. So what she was a prisoner. Psyche had escaped and still not come for her. Elizabeth felt betrayed but knew if her destiny was to be here so be it. A prisoner was only a prisoner if it bothered them. Maybe in the beginning it disgusted her but now she had resorted to the back of her soul, crawled up, and hid. An emotionless robot on the outside. Walking without purpose.
Maybe to watch her in her motions you would see the blood she shed so long ago. You watch the curve of her horn rip apart skin. Her fantasy to belong within a service to plague her racism across the land. Not afraid to show it. Perhaps to attack her it'd be a waste of your energy because scars are scars. Pain is pain. Elizabeth was careless about her features. Disturbed by a hint of love in pain. Liking that feeling in the most horrible of ways. Weird, sick, disgusting. The cram of hooves slicing her skin or breaking bones, the instant throb and rush of adrenaline to block it all. Bad company until the day she dies.
Of course you had to understand she wasn't herself right now. She was a pointless body with a being locked up inside. Vacationing from a trap. Someone who's gone nuts. Broken mentally. Watch her eyes not move from one position. Ears casual and just flopped on her head. Listening, not. Each hoof planted, used, picked up and started over. Grains of sand like itchy annoying particles stuck to her feathered feet. Muscles stood out like bunched up cords. Head properly distributed at a highly respectable queen like height. Reliving the old glorious days without realizing it. There they were, her walking through the lined crowd. Dirt ground beaten and warn with the usual trample of hooves. A unicorn trio at her sides and behind. All four of them ready to attack any pegasus or equine that dared to arrive at her presence. Or maybe the times she sought them out in their homes.
Alkine her poor brother, the one she forced to murder a perfectly healthy naked. Elizabeth watching in amusement and proud facial features as her kin drove his horn across the hide. Through the lungs, flanks, neck. Any place she had taught him to be vulnerable. Perhaps Elizabeth was this way because of how young she was to begin her merciless killing. Training as a young filly and fighting on the battlefield as a mere adult, not even old enough to reproduce correctly. Can you imagine seeing the burning bodies, bloodied fields, and having racism drilled into you at birth. Like being born with a shot gun in her hands, hiding behind the gun to make her stands.
[ooc- Boom, if you don't have time its alright, this isn't a challenge/escape thread or anything xD]
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Kri the Resolute Posts: 243
| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.3hh :: 10 Buff: NUMB |
| Boom Boom! |
12-14-2012, 10:48 PM
(This post was last modified: 12-14-2012, 10:48 PM by Kri.)
KRI the Resolute</style>
My friends, I am only flesh and bone, but I won't let you die alone.</style>
"I am surprised your kin have not bothered to come for you," I say, my voice ruggedly gentle, a dichotomy of sensations in the spoken words. I figured that Elizabeth would not take well to pity, and as such, I kept whatever estranged feeling of it at bay, guarding it from the visible expression of my face as I made my way slowly toward her side. My movements were defensive, smooth, fluid, much like wind gave birth to the muscles ripping beneath an expanse of chocolate brown. However, I was not such an ethereal presence in reality. My life was not born out of such a carefee element, and my personality and strong heart reflected that.
Throw my body on the rocks, break every bone, spill every last drop of my crimson blood - it was all worth it to protect any of those who I loved.
I am a warrior, born to protect those who cannot aid themselves. However, unlike this damsel who walks around absent of her body, living carelessly in the confines of her mind, I was not built to cause needless destruction. I had learned to fight to guard, not to wreak havoc. While I was very deft in the art of battle, never had I slain an opponent. No such violence was necessary in war when those would kneel before you in exhaustion before that killing blow. There was no need for a permanent end when you could simply break your opponent's will into defeat. Looking at the silver eyes of the mare a few paces to my left, I had no idea whether or not she understood this kind of battle. The sort of madness that would plague a murderer was unknown to me, even though our muscular bodies would deem us so similar otherwise.
Sometimes, it pays to be the gentler of the two battered soldiers, for you are left with less regrets and ghosts crawling around in your skull. "Maybe, I should have targeted someone they favored more," a grin forms on my face, humor sprouting in the most unlikely place. It was half in gest, but I was beginning to wonder if I would keep this girl as my prisoner forever.
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Elizabeth
the fallen
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Words, pointless words, spoken upon ears that could not break them into meaning. They just ran about to the back of her mind, gently pouring themselves down a slow drain, taking their precious time to reach a confined soul. Nothing truly made sense, it was just there. Like the short, chocolate body of Kri. Her guard. How awful and disgusting it may be to be in her presence it was almost as if Elizabeth was beaten into submission. Beaten into a true reality. Where her fiery, impatient, and brutal spirit was knocked right from her. Though it was all a trap. Truly she felt disgusted and crawled even further into her hole.
Perhaps slaying her father was unfortunate. He always seemed to race through her mind and haunt her dreams at night. All he had to do was give away his throne but he chose to fight for it, knowing he would die. He stood for his belief in equality, while his own army of unicorns began to feel they were the best. The only true specimens out there. Going behind his back and forceably beating these wretched thoughts into the innocent minds of young foals, upcoming warriors, and the old bats. Maybe they had gone too far and spoiled the mind of a powerful being. Made a mistake and didn't realize the havoc they caused. She wasn't someone born into racism, those are rather weak, she was beaten into racism. Trained into racism. That was all she knew. There was no choice. No upside or turn away.
Maybe the chocolate pegasus was right, being the gentler of the two worked better. Think about this, if you have slain someone they are no longer a problem. No longer a force you need to worry about. If you tire them and have them kneel, there is a chance they will come back stronger than ever. This chance is one Elizabeth was trained to never take. It was die or die. Kill or kill. Beat or beat. Murder or murder. No choices involved. Not one hope for them. "Perhaps." the tone, dry and bitter. Tasteless, careless. Distant and rather slow in reply. Formless in hope, hateful in mindset. She didn't care.
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Rebel Souls, Deserters They Call [Kri/Open]
