the Rift


The Burning Grounds [Psyche]

Chernobyl Posts: 134
Outcast atk: 6 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16 hh :: Nine | Tallsun HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Psilo
#1
[Image: 50c3cfe45dfd7]

Chernobyl

Tiny tendrils of white light beckoned dark eyes to open, their luminescent fire burning bright beneath a filmy surface. All life gathered there, a central core of being that was otherwise replaced by monochrome coloring of the flesh. She was a sheath of shadowy lace, perplexing the eye to dismiss her presence, all smoke and mirrors. A heart that desired no comfort thud beneath her breast, each beat causing a painful discourse to inflict soft groans of agony from her throat. They were not audible and yet just barely heard, traces of voice to the open air that sifts through the mind and settles there leaving one uneasy. Yellowed teeth grind against one another in a sickening crunch, tension building in her jowls like a hungry cat, famished and on the hunt. Blackened irises register surroundings, but only halfheartedly so., as if finding nothing of interest. Just as her thoughts come together, they fall apart again, broken fragments of the mind, melding and then breaking again like glass.

A bitter grimace touches dry, cracked lips that do not open. Her gait is uneven, painful in appearance and slow like static noise, grainy and flashing against the screen in the midst of the night. After a moment, she pauses and stills, eyes ahead and unfocused. Against her flesh, ribs are showcased like diamonds and her flanks are gaunt with malnutrition, but not so much as to assume she is starved. No, the hunter will eat, but she waits until the time is right. The idea waters her mouth, saliva brimming the edges like a sick dog and she does nothing to contain the salivation despite the fact that she is aware company will soon be unavoidable.

As dusk approaches, she smiles and while it looks strange upon her face, she welcomes nightfall when she knows she will come alive. Like a demon, she thrives towards the darkness, drawn to the elusive quality of the witching hour. Barren trees gaze down at her and cringe at the creature as if she has stolen the angels from heaven and hidden them away in Lucifer’s dungeon. She taps her heels against his roof and chuckles lightly at the sound, so forlorn in the silence that Threshold has come to adopt. The birds do not sing in her presence and sometimes she misses the sound, as it is the only reminder of a life alternate her own, one she will never inhabit because she is gone.

She does not dream anymore because they will always go unanswered, dreams are not granted to the devil’s children… That’s what her mother had always told her in such an angelic voice, whispered softly into her ear before bed. She bristles at the recollection and her shoulders come together under the loose skin of the wraith. She chooses to banish that familiar face to the hell she has come to embrace and instead pictures heaven for a brief moment, a place she shall never see as her mother had promised; they were destined for damnation.

[ooc: Recylcled post, I hope you don't mind! <3]

But oh, I'm staring at the mess I made
As you turn, you take your heart and walk away


crushed and filled with all I found
underneath and inside, just to come around
more, give me more, give me more


pixel is by RELI<3


  • Feel free to magic on her, but no murder.

Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
Deceased
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE
RayoDeSoleil
#2


The jackal-mare is restless, and she hopes it does not show as she wanders her hallowed grounds, each step a reminder of all that she had done and lost to have arrived at her current position, to have become who she was. Memories assaulted her relentlessly, a poison of her mind from within itself; it was something that she hadn't the patience for, and yet she found herself driven mad time and again by the same inexorable, unyielding process. She was dragged through a disappointing childhood in which she could do not right, even as she struggled to please her father. She was forced to watch again as her mother's flesh burned and wrinkled before her eyes, like leaves in flames. She would flee her father's rule, and yet she carried on his legacy despite her hatred, targeting the inferiors solely for the fact that their race was not hers.

This, of course, was what drove her on, the twisted Lady of the Basin. It seemed fitting, now, that her horn was not the perfect spiral of her kin, but a gnarled, though lengthy, appendage. She was not beauty. She was not perfection. She had never been either of those things. This she knew, and accepted, and perhaps even appreciated. But she was stubborn, and ambitious, and these were qualities far above the prestige of appearances and perceived perfection. And in her madness, she thirsted for the blood of the impure species. The skyrats disgusted her, their mutilated bodies a subject of her pity and hatred. They were mutants, destined for death even as their lungs filled with life. And the equines were little better - though they were not mangled, merely defective, lacking the horns on their head that marked them as royalty. They were slaves, or they should be.

And yet all of them had decided to live in revolution, denying themselves their proper places in the world. They would be happier that way, some of the kinder-hearted racists would say. It was their role to fill, and without filling it, allowing it to encompass them, they would never feel fulfilled, instead remaining in a constant state of searching. Wouldn't it be kinder, they said, to put them out of their misery and simply assign them the roles meant for them? But the shadow-mare said no such thing. They are vermin, she told her followers. They do not deserve to live. At the very best they only deserve to serve. We must exterminate the plague of inferiority amongst us. It is the only way. And so they had fallen into line, as simply as you please, lining up like little ducklings in a row to go off into the merry world of murder and violence.

She was proud, she supposed, though they hadn't been quite as active in their terrorism since their arrival at the Basin. Perhaps they had simply been settling in, but to a matriarch with a militaristic outlook on life, they had failed. She and Elizabeth had been stolen, and what had her Plaguelings done to save them? Nothing. If you want something done right, you must do it yourself, she reminded herself, but it did not good. They had not tried, and somehow that was worse than failure. Perhaps, she mused, it was time for new blood. Someone to ascend their ranks and provide order. Perhaps she should take Faelene's words to heart and invest in diplomacy - someone to sweeten their enemies before slipping the poison between their unsuspecting teeth.

Ahead, the sun is setting, its last brilliant rays lighting vivid displays in the sky above the mountains. Still, their valley is in shadow, and she can feel the air cooling around her. It is a welcome change, the night, one that she appreciates as its cool breeze caresses her bodice, curls into her banner, whispers in her lobes. And so it is that she hears the movement of another, shortly before the scent reaches her. It is a unicorn that she has yet to meet; she cannot place her smell with a face. The Empress calls out, a short bugle of greeting, knowing full well that she blends into her surroundings. Perhaps her companion does too. She hopes that she will find a kindred spirit here in the darkness.

[W/C | xxx]

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


[Image: psycheicon.png]

Please feel free to tag me in all replies!
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

Chernobyl Posts: 134
Outcast atk: 6 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16 hh :: Nine | Tallsun HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Psilo
#3
[Image: 50c3cfe45dfd7]

Chernobyl

Distinctly, she remembers the quiet of home, so lost among the darkened trees that not a single soul would her cries. Perhaps her mother had wanted it that way, maybe she had wanted to conceal her prize and chain it to the stony floors of hell so that she may be able to revel in her conquest as a predator that plays with its food. Chilling wisps of resonant anger alight coolly along her spine and cause the hairs to stand at attention, while she looks out into the darkness that no mortal eye could see beyond. Her eyes widen in the blackness, mimicking the saturation of light, or really the lack thereof. She is comfortable here, biding time before it slips away entirely and there is nothing left but decisions to make and fears to face. She had stopped praying to the Gods long ago when they had stopped answering her calls. But here in the Basin and Helovia as a whole, she knew that she would once again have to learn to accept their rule. However, her jaded heart felt no need to call upon them now as she slowly began to lose herself to the ethereal magic of the shadows. They would not bring her light now as they did not bring her help then and she was accepting of the thought, though it pained her minimally.

Shaking off the dewy cold that had elapsed in the moonlight, she moved forward into the trees, hidden among their limbs where she would soon find solace. She could recall the times they had given her comfort when her mother had come calling, searching the forest for her dark, little temptress, so patient at first while cooing sweet nonsense into the open night air. At times Chernobyl had fooled herself into thinking that things had changed so suddenly, that her mother’s voice did carry upon it notions of ill-placed love, that it did not seek her unwilling ears only to evoke from her such sickening sentiment. She shook her hear now, unfocused and confused, lost in the moment that was altogether whimsical until it was shattered by the distant shrill of halfhearted welcome.

She was hesitant to unveil her position, but as she had done so many times before, she came. From the shadows she emerged, black eyes that appeared to be unseeing, gracing the other mare with curious intent. She had no answer for her newest companion and instead stood solemnly before her, a mere ghost from the forest, misting languidly from their depths. Her lips did not part, though thoughts roiled in her mind, questioning the songstress who now sought her junction. She was similarly colored, though adorned multicolored feathers throughout her mane. Did this symbolize authority? Chernobyl was unsure. However, this uncertainty brought about a sense of obligation to acknowledge the unnamed mare. “You called?” Her voiced cracked from ill-use, though she did nothing to cover the strange sound and instead settled for gazing intently at the strange mare.

For a moment the silence was unbearable, making Chernobyl turn away to study the impending night. She longed to disappear into the smoky tendrils of darkness that called out to her so lovingly as it had held her through long nights of abuse and sadness and ultimately pain. However, it did nothing to nurse the building anger that seemed to surface at the thought of her childhood. If only memories were so well forgotten as passing faces on the street. But, this was not the case and she was bound to her mother’s memory like a candle is bound to flame.

But oh, I'm staring at the mess I made
As you turn, you take your heart and walk away


crushed and filled with all I found
underneath and inside, just to come around
more, give me more, give me more


pixel is by RELI<3


  • Feel free to magic on her, but no murder.

Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
Deceased
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE
RayoDeSoleil
#4


The shadow-mare watches intently, her call at first answered by nothing but the silence of the night. She wonders if she imagined hearing, seeing something. Perhaps the ghosts of her memory are being projected into the night, as though she would want to see them. Does she? She insists that she doesn't, but it is a reluctant insistance, and she knows that if the FrostHeart were to appear, she would not be disappointed. Oh, how she wishes to see his icy form appear between the trees, to approach her as though an apparition, to greet her with the old joke of theirs, for things to be as they once were. But she knows that even if he were to come to her here, now, he would greet her with a cold distance, would treat her as no more than a comrade, when once she would have been his Queen.

Would it have been an alliance of love or of the lust for power? It was no question - they would have reigned together as equals, striving for the same goal. There would not have been love between them - or would there? She was not a loving mare, nor was he a loving stallion, but they had shared a daughter. Perhaps it had been a hoax to forever bind him to her, but it had done the job nonetheless. But where was that bond now? And dare she admit that she missed him? No, that she would not admit, not aloud, not silently. It was a matter of pride; if she admitted that she missed him, admitted to her feelings for him, they would be the weakness that had driven her from Helovia, the weakness, too, that had bid her return.

A movement caught her eye, and she watched in silence as a mare of pure ebony stepped through the trees. They matched, she and the jackal, save for the ivory marks at the Lady's heels and forehead. The newcomer stopped before her, and for a moment was quite, seeming to appraise the Empress with soulless eyes. The shadow-mare waited. She had the scent of the herd, and must have been accepted in Psyche's absence; it was high time that she met the new members of her herd. "You called?" The words finally came, a raspy question, as though the mare did not use her voice that often. "I did," she replied simply. "My name is Psyche, and I am the Lady of the Basin. And you are...?"


[W/C | xxx]

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


[Image: psycheicon.png]

Please feel free to tag me in all replies!
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

Chernobyl Posts: 134
Outcast atk: 6 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16 hh :: Nine | Tallsun HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Psilo
#5
[Image: 50c3cfe45dfd7]

Chernobyl

Seamless as it was, the bond that connected the two was fair- a ruler and her follower. Though, the Basin was not a place that Chernobyl was sure of, in fact, she felt uncertain about nearly everything that existed around her, though she knew it was in her best interest to become acquainted. After all, what was the purpose of such a dark place? Her wondering gaze found that of her lead and lingered there, surely proposing some sort of explanation. It was obvious that Psyche found herself in the young shadow’s presence out of a mere sense of duty, but Chernobyl looked at it in a difference sense. She was eager to take advantage of the opportunity and instead of sheathing herself in layers of guarded despair, she offered herself as sacrifice and let this strange mare in.

Perhaps, they had something in common… even if Chernobyl wasn’t aware of what it was. It could have been the overwhelming desire to succeed, to change, to prosper. Whatever it was, it was enough to bring the wraith from her shell, nude and exposed like a child before the Empress. She had run into a few other faces, during her short residence in the Basin, like Myrddin, but this- this was something altogether more significant, glorious. If she could only convince the mare to influence her, guide her on the path of destruction that she so claimed to weave. Is that what she wanted? To shadow her former self in a power so well sought? Would she become engulfed in those endeavors, sing life into the fading essence of her self? If this was so meant, so desired… would she succeed?

Perhaps she would only fail, ever a reminder of her mother’s cruel wishes to keep her contained.

Though, hope would not let her down. In the lime light, she conspired, brought together her plans and threw them aside for the sudden induction of change, of new life. “Chernobyl, newly appointed Scholar, though I find it seemingly difficult to rise above the name in effort to seek new heights.” As cryptic as it was, she knew that the mare would understand this need for importance, or maybe she wouldn’t. It wasn’t requested that she did, nor that she would… just that she would somehow empathize.


But oh, I'm staring at the mess I made
As you turn, you take your heart and walk away


crushed and filled with all I found
underneath and inside, just to come around
more, give me more, give me more


pixel is by RELI<3


  • Feel free to magic on her, but no murder.

Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
Deceased
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE
RayoDeSoleil
#6


The pair of them are mere shadows, and perhaps in more than one sense of the word. They blend into their surroundings, and yet as they shift, so too does the darkness, forming new voids and filling new spaces, ever changing under their unintended guidance. The jackal finds herself calm, an oddity in the stress-riddled days of the present, so unlike the calm, collected pillaging of her past. Perhaps she senses that the fae is vulnerable, weak, in a fashion, and is unconsciously seeking her help; or perhaps it is simpler than that, and she only finds solace in the obvious power than she holds over the situation.

"Chernobyl," comes the femme's quiet reply. "Newly appointed Scholar." It is a noble position, the Empress supposes, though she herself finds very little use for information as the scholars do. She prefers action, but then, her preferences mean very little these days. There is more: "Though I find it seemingly difficult to rise above the name in effort to seek new heights." The shadow-mare frowns; is it Myrddin of whom she complains? Had the Lady made a mistake in posting one so old in such a position of power, a position of teaching?

But then, she considers: is the mare even talking about her position? Perhaps she, as so many others did, seeks only redemption, a way to prove herself beyond the day-to-day efforts. What she holds in her past may drive her to her actions now, but it is of no consequence; and yet, if it gains her another follower, the jackal will gladly use what she is given. "I do hope that Myrddin is providing the lessons you require, as is custom for his rank," she said slowly, pondering her words as she spoke them. Ever so careful, she was, these days.

"But if it is more that you desire... there is more that I can give you."

[W/C | xxx]

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


[Image: psycheicon.png]

Please feel free to tag me in all replies!
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

Chernobyl Posts: 134
Outcast atk: 6 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16 hh :: Nine | Tallsun HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Psilo
#7
[Image: 50c3cfe45dfd7]

Chernobyl

She thoroughly enjoyed her matron’s sense of self; such as the way she acknowledged her power and brought with her a sort of easiness that made all other existence transparent. To Chernobyl, she had certainly earned the right as Lady of the Basin, after all, her cool arrogance was something that was not achieved without due purpose. At times, she longed for such purpose, though she knew it was ahead of her, beaming bright in the light at the end of this god-forsaken tunnel. But, as the thought crossed her mind, she looked before her and realized the endless opportunity that came from this little chat with her Lady… It was as if she’d thrown a bone to her pet and all that was left was to take it. Chernobyl smiled, an ugly feature upon her otherwise immaculate face. The planes were too dry for such curvature and her eyes bore no light that would suggest happiness or otherwise. But all the same, it came, lurking upon her features like a ghost before fading away in the night to the sound of her beating heart.

Myddin had been a fine teacher, she was sure, and she hadn’t wanted Psyche to mistake her discourse as his demise. But, if there was a way that it would land her the position- what could it hurt? Something inside seemed to stir and awaken, brewing coldly at the pit of her stomach like bile. It sloshed uselessly against her sides as she glanced around, sure to take note that another hadn’t taken to hiding thoughtfully amongst the shadows. “Oh, he’s done enough I suppose. Though I can’t help but wonder what exactly you could offer to one such as myself?” Another crude smile seemed to find its way to her lips, though perhaps it was more of smirk… or a grimace. Her eyes seemed to narrow against the foreign gesture, glowing bright with curiosity.

Perhaps this shadow mare could offer her something that she could use.

But oh, I'm staring at the mess I made
As you turn, you take your heart and walk away


crushed and filled with all I found
underneath and inside, just to come around
more, give me more, give me more


pixel is by RELI<3


  • Feel free to magic on her, but no murder.

Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
Deceased
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE
RayoDeSoleil
#8


What had she to offer?

Cool amber gaze roved over the femme's features, taking in the harsh planes of the face, the eyes that bore no trace of emotion. She wondered, briefly, if Chernobyl were really as cold as it would seem, for her orbs held a similar distance that she knew her own showed. The smile that passed over the fae's maw was not a true smile - it did not touch her eyes - but it was a smile nonetheless, and the Dark Empress imagined that it was filled with the cold-hearted ambition that had brought her so far. It was odd, to meet one that seemed to similar to herself - not, perhaps, in the obvious ways that she and Elizabeth shared, but in a more subtle manner. The shadow-mare thought for a moment that she might make a good assassin.

But that had not been her chosen course. She was a Scholar, under the Haruspex's rule, and that was that. Unless she sought a different course. Keen gaze surveyed her further, thoughtful under the mask of disinterest. What were the fae's thoughts on supremacy? Would she prove to share the views of the Plague, for example? If not, was she still malleable, able to be shifted and taught? As she voiced the desire for more, the question of what Psyche had to offer, a cruel smile crossed the Lady's maw. Perhaps Chernobyl would prove useful to her and to her cause. Having more followers, loyal followers, would never hurt. And, besides adding to her numbers, there was something about this one that made her wanted.

But what could she offer the femme, other than a position of higher rank? Or a place by her side within the secret organization that was the Plague? Was that all the mare wanted? A purpose? A goal? A family? So many questions, but she would not ask - asking what she wanted would prove the Lady to be inadequate, weak. And weak she was not. "I can give you all that you want, my dear. All you have to do is be loyal." Tones were light, amused, almost endearing, if she hadn't been so painfully alluring. "Tell me, darling, what are your thoughts on equines and pegasi?"

[W/C | xxx]

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


[Image: psycheicon.png]

Please feel free to tag me in all replies!
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

Chernobyl Posts: 134
Outcast atk: 6 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16 hh :: Nine | Tallsun HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Psilo
#9
[Image: 50c3cfe45dfd7]

Chernobyl

An anger burned in the pit of her stomach, swelling and expanding from the effort of holding back. It was not her Matron’s words that angered her so, but more so the fact that she longed… longed for more than this, more than everything around her. The Basin was magical, but it was not enough to soothe her restlessness, her direct prowess and desire to rise beyond. A cool smile touched her dry lips, once again reminding her of all things aesthetic, fake… her brow creased in amusement as she gazed at the ghostly figure of her replicate. Her words were so self-righteous, though it was a mere front that kept her standing. Whatever she offered was something truly heinous, something surreal. Power was something not handed out at random, it was something earned, at times. She pondered this revelation, wondered if this Psyche was actually willing to produce all that she promised, all that those predator lips seemed to purr. She paused in her gazing, laying shallow eyes upon those of amber. It must have been a frightening thing- to look into one’s eyes and see no soul, no depth. There was no light about her, no sense of humanity. But instead, she spoke, this Lady. she spoke so many empty lies that it was hard for Chernobyl to believe was what real anymore. However, this wasn’t the time to question her incentives, it was a time to take advantage of the situation.

Perhaps she thought her weak, foolish, insolent… but she was everything aside. She laughed, a demonic sound trickling from her gullet like a moan. She muttered soft words to herself, words of encouragement maybe? It was increasingly hard to hear, hard to see. The darkness surrounded them, pressing upon them like plastic, suffocating them and bringing them together in one moment of pure solitude. Silence ensued as the shadow chuckled. Loyalty? Was there ever such a thing? She glanced back at her liege, her yellowed teeth catching the faint light of the moon above, glittering gold in the midst of the night. Upon her now, illumination brought reality. Her flesh, far too thin against her brittle bones seemed to shift and concave along the planes of her malformed structure and her eyes seemed to widen against the onslaught of twilight.

What would you have me think of them… darling?” her words were gruff, a slight challenge upon their notes. She had pressed onward, testing the mare’s resolve- she needed assurance, a gauge of trust in which she could confide. She wanted entertainment, a reason to entrust her loyalties. If the ghoul had nothing of interest to provide, then she might consider searching elsewhere to enlist her foolhardy minions.

But oh, I'm staring at the mess I made
As you turn, you take your heart and walk away


crushed and filled with all I found
underneath and inside, just to come around
more, give me more, give me more


pixel is by RELI<3


  • Feel free to magic on her, but no murder.

Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
Deceased
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE
RayoDeSoleil
#10



The shadow-mare smiled, but it was not kind. There was a certain malicious cruelty that colored her amber orbs as she regarded her young pupil. Or, perhaps, not so young, for surely the two were not so far apart in age. But the Lady felt older, much older than her scant six years. Perhaps that was the price of ruling; she could tell that she had matured even in so short a time as she had led the unicorns of the Basin. She had grown, if not in stature, then in mental capabilities. She was more sure of her place in the world, more sure of her abilities, more sure of her beliefs. As if she had ever doubted herself. Right.

"What would you have me think of them... darling?"

The words are mocking and hold the threat of a challenge. The Dark Empress does not take the bait. She held herself silent, reviewing the conversation, reveling in how quickly the femme had learned from her. To begin a conversation shyly, almost fearful - no, that was wrong, there was never any fear from the ebony mistress - and to so quickly evolve into a challenger - well, it was quite impressive, really, and perhaps was the reason why the shade wanted Chernobyl in her ranks. If she continued on such a path, then she would indeed prove herself most useful...

"I would have you be truthful, my dear. But I shall tell you what you should think of them." She began to move, pacing a slow circle around Chernobyl, restless as she so often became when speaking passionately. "They are inferior species, Chernobyl. We unicorns were crowned by the gods, destined to rule. The equines, unadorned as they are, were meant to be our slaves; and pegasi, well... they are simply disgusting mutants." She paused, letting her words sink in. Would her student take up her cause? Or would she turn away, even after all this? "If you follow me..." the Lady added, drawing to a stop before her subject, holding her gaze with sharp, orange eyes. "...then you will rule."

[W/C | xxx]

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


[Image: psycheicon.png]

Please feel free to tag me in all replies!
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

Chernobyl Posts: 134
Outcast atk: 6 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16 hh :: Nine | Tallsun HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Psilo
#11
[Image: 50c3cfe45dfd7]

Chernobyl

Her lips twisted, then turned into something of a grimace. It wasn’t as if her highness had evoked such a gruesome reaction, but their time shared seemed to daunt the young scholar. Whatever answer she had been stewing around had been completely eradicated from her thoughts. It was the way in which the Lady spoke to her, almost hypnotic, in that she assumed so much and felt so little. A cold chill seemed to set in now and a frozen reminder of her former sense of self seemed to step in. She looked beyond her Lady and into the blackness. Whatever dark demons spoke to her there seemed to convince her to agree. Whatever rules and regulations were required of her, she would oblige willingly. With a bit of effort she tore her gaze away from the death and decay of her past and smiled openly at this Psyche. She certainly knew how to persuade a girl, if she’d ever seen it. But she was not soon to forget everything that she had worked for, strived for.

A deep throbbing in her chest seemed to open into a new form of pain. It was not one that caused her tears but more so caused a terrific longing that ached in her heart and sank into the pit of her stomach like some sort of steely resolve. “I do love your point of view, my Lady… truthfully, though, I’d had no former opinions on the subject but, I’ve certainly no problem with becoming a fan.” Her black eyes seemed to dance now, the cool light of the moon illuminating the china doll’s excited features. It was as if this shadowed mare held the strings to her puppet’s actions and Chernobyl was more than obliging, as always.

Her eyes widened now, clouded in all of the possibilities. If she had to have reservations about some damn Equines and Pegasi, so be it. Her devotion was here, standing before her like some hooded Goddess. She nodded slowly, as if she had carried on some conversation with something altogether supernatural before committing to another spiel of sin. “We reign supreme my Lady- I think I can handle that.” Another dark smile seemed to dress the doll’s porcelain lips. This was merely the beginning of the end.

ooc| I finally did it!

But oh, I'm staring at the mess I made
As you turn, you take your heart and walk away


crushed and filled with all I found
underneath and inside, just to come around
more, give me more, give me more


pixel is by RELI<3


  • Feel free to magic on her, but no murder.

Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
Deceased
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE
RayoDeSoleil
#12



The shadow-mare smiles at her newly-named pupil. The fae's flat, ebony orbs seem to shift with emotion, a feat that, while generally quite impossible to discern, did not go unnoticed by the Lady. I do love your point of view, my Lady…" she says, and the words are appreciated by a regal nod. "...Truthfully, though, I’d had no former opinions on the subject but, I’ve certainly no problem with becoming a fan." The sentiment is not one that the Dark Empress hears often; very seldom does she encounter beings that have no opinion on the subject. There are racists and there are equalists - there is very little middle ground. Still, it is a blessing that she relishes, for it makes her quest for support ever-so-much easier.

"Darling, if you have any idea how many poor, ignorant souls roamed out lands, you too would seek to show them the error of their ways." It is the truth, to her, for in her hatred is a righteousness, and unexplainable piety. Her tales are just that - tales - concocted for her own rhyme and reason, for her own gain, but she has come to believe that which she spews like poison from between dark lips. It is her religion, her salvation, and so, too, can it become her followers'.

She had not lied to Chernobyl, not really - her intentions were, as ever, to rule supreme, as was her gods-given right. For what was a horn unless it were a crown? What other purpose would it serve? It would stand to reason, then, that the hornless were inferior, lower subjects of their realm, fit for servitude and not much else. And those disgusting, winged skyrats - what use were they? What god had created them, and in what image? They were a monstrosity, the form taken by a mutated gene somewhere along the way. They were fit for nothing but slaughter, no better than pests. She and hers would be rid of them. One day.

One day.

She looks around, ensuring that they are, in fact, alone on this quiet, dark night. "You are not the first, my dear, to seek something more, to sense that you are of a higher purpose. We are called the Plague, and already our ranks are growing. But you, Chernobyl, are not like them, are you, darling? You want more. And you shall have it," her words were a promise, the alluring hiss of a cobra before it strikes down its target. But she would not strike down her newest addition; no, she would raise her up.

[W/C | xxx]

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


[Image: psycheicon.png]

Please feel free to tag me in all replies!
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

Chernobyl Posts: 134
Outcast atk: 6 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16 hh :: Nine | Tallsun HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Psilo
#13
[Image: 50c3cfe45dfd7]

Chernobyl

The doll was in sheer bliss, cool and collected as she stood before the Matron. Her heart roiled with a fever for absolution and perhaps she was meant for this day, meant for what it was to behold. She had forgotten her questing with The Haruspex in light of her meeting with the Lady. Perhaps she would put her missions on hold until she could gain favor from the Empress. She was unsure of what dark powers she could offer and which ones were even worth the risk in the taking. Her porcelain lips cracked minimally in a small smile that resembled Psyche’s own half-hearted attire. But she was quick to retract the sentiment as the Lady spoke. The night was encroaching into twilight now and the doll was eager to indulge her Matron- a puppet to her Lady’s strings. “You’re approach interests me. How would you suppose we show them the errors of their ways? I find that there are many words to be had but not enough action…

She rested her hips and leaned back into a more domineering position. After all, this was a moment of pure equality. She saw Psyche for what she was and she was not going to lie down like a sick creature and let her trample her into the background. She was seeking a mentor that would lead her to a victory of sorts and this was her moment. It was time to grab the situation by its ass and make it scream.

The Plague. An ominous title, wouldn’t you agree? It would suggest invasion… in such a way that you infiltrate the offenders. I like that. I would love to become a part of your… army, if you will, but on one condition.” She looked now into those eyes of gold and smiled, a bitter feature that fit her mildly sadistic nature. “Tell me one thing you plan to do in order to rule- you have a band of followers, but what is it that you plan to do in order to make a name for them?

But oh, I'm staring at the mess I made
As you turn, you take your heart and walk away


crushed and filled with all I found
underneath and inside, just to come around
more, give me more, give me more


pixel is by RELI<3


  • Feel free to magic on her, but no murder.

Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
Deceased
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE
RayoDeSoleil
#14



"How would you suppose we show them the error of their ways?"

She does not hesitate. "Well, that is easy, darling. They convert, or they die." As Chernobyl assumes a more confident posture, the shadow-mare realizes that her duty to her pupil is almost complete. They are discussing the future of their race, after all, and in the bigger picture, will either of them truly come out ahead? The jackal knows that she will rule in this life, but so too does she know that she will die one day. The legacy that she leaves will be dependent on Chernobyl, and others like her. To pretend superiority over her own kind would be to assume a god-like status, and she knows that her position can be taken as easily as it was given. She is no god, nor will she claim such a title.

"More specifically, though, you may categorize as follows: the rulers, the followers, the mutants, and the traitors. Unicorns that choose our path, the rightful path, they are the rulers. Unicorns that love our inferiors, well -" She laughs, but there is not mirth. "- they are the traitors. The followers are the hornless, and the mutants the skyrats. Mutants must die. Followers must serve, or die. Traitors, too, will die.

"And so, you see, we will reign. There is blood to be shed, yes, but ultimately, our legacy will be brilliant."
The fae continues to question her, and the jackal knows that it is a test, a challenge of her leadership. "Why, we have already begun, dear. We have among us skilled assassins, well-versed in the art of poison. Better still, some of our members have already taken slaves, kidnapped lessers, tortured them. Upon their release, well..." she chuckles again, and this time, there is glee. "The world will know our name."

[W/C | xxx]

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


[Image: psycheicon.png]

Please feel free to tag me in all replies!
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

Chernobyl Posts: 134
Outcast atk: 6 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16 hh :: Nine | Tallsun HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Psilo
#15
[Image: 50c3cfe45dfd7]

Chernobyl

Her tale was strung from weeds and shaped into flowers painted in gold. Perhaps the doll was persuaded all too easily or perhaps she had dreamed the same dream. She tipped her skull forward, debating whether or not she would consider that very same horn that this Matron spoke of to be something of crown. As she shifted her brow to accommodate a better view of the sharpened appendage upon her small face, she decided that it was. It was sign of her true glory. Perhaps this was why her mother, an Equine, had abused her so. Part of this realization made her huff in appreciation and understanding. She seemed to smile, her lips lapping up against her teeth in the gesture. She closed her eyes as Psyche continued, painting a vivid story inside her corrupt little brain.

She wanted more than anything to believe. She wanted to believe the lies she wove and perhaps that’s what made the little doll slip into the fantasy of what would come in the next part of her forever. Perhaps she would become something of a valiant fan of “The Plague”. Perhaps she would fit right in and find solace in their ranks, hidden away even from those members of the Basin. Something about the idea made her tremble in exuberance. She was surely avid about considering herself as royalty and she didn’t care how or from what source she obtained the information- this was her new life and she was going to live it accordingly. She didn’t care what got in her way, she would merely have to plow through the obstacles and succeed.

Our name… How I would long to be considered part of the whole. I would serve you as needed; perform whatever task you deem acceptable. To rid ourselves of impurity would allow a certain freedom, a certain quality that we cannot have as mere tier in the quest of domination. I entrust you with my resolve, my dearest Pysche. After all, this is a new beginning and I am ready to make it one that will not be forgotten. I want our name sewn upon every lip and burned upon every tongue. We will rule and all other will bow before our feet.


But oh, I'm staring at the mess I made
As you turn, you take your heart and walk away


crushed and filled with all I found
underneath and inside, just to come around
more, give me more, give me more


pixel is by RELI<3


  • Feel free to magic on her, but no murder.

Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
Deceased
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE
RayoDeSoleil
#16



Corruption. It dripped from her tongue like honey, weaving its way into the otherwise innocent minds of others. Perhaps it was her father's legacy, that she would be so skilled at weaving her words into beautiful, flowering stories, gilded with promises of everlasting glory, vengeance, honor, whatever her newest student needed to hear. Whatever she needed to preach. Ultimately, she did not care what lies she told, what sacrifices she made, for it was in truth for the greater good of her kind and the demise of the lessers. She told Chernobyl that she would rule, for she sensed that power was something that the fae sought. To others, though, like the youngling Frost Fyre, she might speak of old legends, spinning a new religion for their innocent little ears.

Whatever the story, she always prevailed, teaching her beliefs, a priest of sorts. What would the gods think of her lies? Or did they even care anymore? Perhaps they were content to allow the mortals to do as they pleased. Perhaps her teachings, taught so sparingly across the realm, were of little consequence to them. The Time God had made her queen; would he not have known the darkness in her heart? Or was it that darkness that had made her so desirable to him? Perhaps he, like her, abhorred the other species - but no, that made very little sense. Still, he had requested that they would keep themselves apart from the other herds. Too many alliances, he had said, and she had promised. And apart they would indeed remain.

"My dear,"> she told Chernobyl now, "you shall indeed be a part of our whole, and a part of our rule, when the time comes. For now, you shall train with the others, quietly. We do not want to give the inferiors warning of our rise to power." A nod of approval was given to the black femme before her, the conversation at a close, if she had no further questions. What a productive night it had been.

[OOC | I will have her added to the Plague room. Also, do you want her to be a soldier, a tormentor (prison guard), a spy, or a 'nurse'-in-training?]

[W/C | xxx]

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


[Image: psycheicon.png]

Please feel free to tag me in all replies!
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

Thor the Gentle Heart Posts: 379
Hidden Account atk: 4 | def: 7 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.3 :: 11 (TallSun) HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Sabine :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Linds
#17
Most likely a spy. :) Thanks Rayo.


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