d'Artagnan could hear the coughing of their prisoner as he and Aramis were returning back to his cave. The miserable sound seemed to echo over the Basin and the shade frowned in annoyance. Picking up his pace into a brisk trot to find the pitiful form of Valentine. How long had it been? Since the day he had spoken with Valentine, they were on the Steppe that day and the Doctor had not thought much of him. More interested in the rare poison he was trying to find amongst the masses of cold snow. There had never been anything about Valentine that stuck out to him, he was almost comical with the heart shape on his rear and a name that he ought to be castrated for. Though d'Artagnan thought so little of him that he never would have pinned him down as a traitor, he never seemed to have the guts to be a traitor. Maybe he'd misjudged him, but that was not going to happen again. Aramis had his nose to the ground and curly ears forwards as d'Artagnan followed him all the way to a pool of blood and a sorry looking mess. For a moment, the Time Mender stood there with an expressionless face, staring at the form of Valentine. Lids fell over emotionless eyes and Aramis growled a low fierce noise, eyeing the blood with a lustful gaze. The hound had enjoyed his time killing the unicorn who had attempted an escape in the Steppe, his overgrown paws had stepped in traitorous blood and enjoyed it. He would do the same here, all he needed was the command from his bonded to set him loose. Instead, d'Artagnan began to laugh a long dark laugh, shaking his head at Valentine. "Really, what are you trying to achieve? You want to play the hero now hmm?" His crimson face tilted and his dark gaze turned into a sneer, it was rather ironic that if Valentine was apart of the Basin now that d'Artagnan could simply heal him. Charcoal tail slapped against his hocks and he began to walk around the bloody form, head lowered with an arched neck. His gait like that of a predator circling his prey, eyes thick with malice and rage. That this insignificant piece of shit thought he could step on toes and get away with it. He stopped when he was behind Valentine, narrowing his mad man's eyes. "You know, if you keep spewing up blood like that you're going to die. Some hero. I can speed up your death if you like, I have some poisons that might help you. I can send you into death in sublime delirium or excruciating pain. I can prolong your existence, keep you alive whilst I take you apart limb from limb, now wouldn't that be lovely!" His mind was going, it was clear in his voice and in his facial expressions. The madness that came with intolerable rage. He wasn't quite there yet, his mind was only just slipping.

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Everyone has a story. Everyone has a history. Everyone is a package, so everyone has their price. Some prices are material objects, others are more metaphorical objects, and the best type of payment, is indeed emotion. Yet, some emotions are detoured, like lust. There is always that one person that thrives on curdled emotion. That one person that makes you tingle with hate, or twitch with sourness. Easily, this mare would place Prometheus in this spot, but maybe it would change in the series of events that would lead up to the big switch. This mare knew not of the plague, but of the racist that thrives in the Aurora Basin. Soon she'd be a Plague mare herself.. That is if everything panned out. Valentine, the bleeding stallion around the corner of the evergreen trees, had the power to change it all. All he would have to say is, "The supermacist unicorns called The Plague live here", but the real question is...

Would he?

I heard a voice, but not any voice. A voice of death itself all wrapped up in the sour words of death. I emerge into the bright light from the evergreen forest. I had come from a peaceful slumber in the dark bowels of the emerald forest. My mane had a few of those green spikes that were supposed to be leaves, stuck in my hair. The metallic oder of the crimson liquid was strong. The scent flooded the area so easily which led me to believe it was a large animal, maybe as large as a horse. The bright sun burning my eyes as my pupils adjust to maintain the amount of sunlight that enters them. I see it all. As my vision clears, I see two stallions. One probably dead and the other taunting him. I walked up to the bay that was taunting.

My voice, clear as day rings through the air. "Who is he? Are you not going to held the lad? Do you just want to watch him suffer and die" A slight tone of panic rose in each word I spoke. My emotions clearly stated confusion. Maybe the cherry bay had a good reason. Still, I wanted to help. I wanted to drop my muzzle and move the strange looking stallions face away from the puddle. "Would you really kill him when you can so easily help him?" I let one audit point to the body and the other to the bay. I listened for the sounds of breathing. I was so easily molded, this situation could change me forever, but it'd have to be a good reason. I wanted to know the reason. Turning my cranium, I look at the white horse. "Are you OK? Where do you come from?" Her sweet voice changed to steel as she spoke the second sentence. She wanted to know just for his safety measures.

V a l e n ti n e And I just ran out of band aids I don't even know where to start cause you can bandage the damage but you never really can fix a heart His vision blurred and then came the taunting voice of one he had known for a short period of time. He was not well with him, but he didn't hate him either, until now. The voice like gravel and multicolored eyes gave their now relishing gaze upon his broken body. What a coward. Picking on the lowly and near death, and that would be the only opinion he would ever have of anyone that lived in the Basin. Perhaps he was racist against his own kind now, because of them. His words did nothing to pierce his dying audits, and though Valentine was fading, he wouldn't die just yet. I muffled laugh came from the ground, and a smile was on the grey's lips. "A hero? I don't think I'm quite fit for that title yet. Though I think this is the part of the story where the hero is near death, and a villain appears and tries to kill him. But in the end, he always survives. No, I'm afraid I can't die yet, though your offer is quite inciting. What am I trying to achieve? Many things, d'Artagnan. Many of which you will never understand, because you are simply incapable in the state of mind in which you will forever be permanently logged. You see, there is more to this world than love or hate, war and peace; I strife to bring us together now, and all you want to do is bring us apart, even further wiping out the other races in a mass extinction. What is the point of such an endeavor? What is it your brothers and sisters truly seek do to? I'll admit, at first I was happy to be apart of you, to join you in the hatred and blood lust that stomped within our hearts. It was the first time I felt accepted, not shunned, and I even had a false love. But I know all of that to be an illusion now, and the tricks you play on the minds of others can last forever. I'd like to think I was one of the lucky ones, getting away when I did, but it appears that I haven't escaped you completely. Maybe someday I will." He looked weakly a the two glassed crowned stallion, and he stared hard into his eyes. "Even if I may die, there will be someone to take my place: there always will be. Are you prepared to fight an army of hornless, ones that would fight for the lives of their race and of their own? Are you prepared to fight for the lives of your children, of Kou, even your own? Ask yourself that, then give me an answer. Do what you want to me, but know that there will always be more." There was someone else there, and he had no words left to explain himself to her. All he could muster was a disgruntled sigh, and he had to laid his head on the ground for a moment. He wanted to speak again, but he had spent most of his energy giving the blood bay brute a lecture. Perhaps those words were in vain; most likely. But he had to say something, or his whole vision was pointless. He didn't want his daughter to have to live in a world full of war between the races, learning that ours was supposed to be superior to others. No one was greater or lesser than anyone else, and he knew that in his heart to be true. What did others have to mix those thin lines up, tangling them until they became nothing but a mess? "I am a prisoner, because I believe something different than the rest of you. I have been tortured here for almost the entire season. Don't count on him healing me, he would rather see me bleeding in pain than do anything to help me. And to think I once called him brother." He coughed up more blood, and he couldn't breathe. He was wheezing, blood sinking itself into his lungs while he was trying to breathe. He took a mouth full of snow, and blood mixed with water quenched his throat. He gasped, but was still having a hard time breathing. He looked at the Doctor again, giving him a half hearted smile. "Do what you want with me, but make it quick. I haven't got all day, and I would hope you have better practices to attend to, eh Doctor?" OCC: Of course I don't want him to die, but if you do decide to poison him, could d'Art's poison send him on a trip or something like that? That would be awesome :) Speaking here

Aramis snapped at the mare who made an unlucky appearance into a situation d'Artagnan thought she didn't want to be part of. Murderous glare swung from Valentine to land on the painted femme, nostrils flaring and mismatched eyes glinting with dangerous malice as crimson lobes flattened. His gaze scrutinized the mare, scenting the basin on her, but not recalling ever meeting her before. A dark smirk wormed it's onto his lips as he regarded the child with barely concealed viciousness. "He's a traitor to our land, a little rat of the Dragons Throat. So no, I'm not going to waste my gifted power on a slug who doesn't deserve to be saved." His voice quivered in rage as he struggled to hold on to this reality as madness sank it's claws deeper and deeper into him. The words that Valentine spoke only added to his seething emotions, was there no end to his idiotic dribble?! d'Artagnan clenched his magic and held it for a moment, taking in a deep breath before speaking once again. This time, his dual coloured gaze turning on the laughable excuse for a unicorn. "No? Too bad for you this isn't a fairytale. There are no villains and heroes, there's just blood and hatred. Reality is cruel, don't you think little hero?" He snorted then, Aramis keeping an eye on the golden spotted mare with heckles lining his small back, tail lashing from side to side. "That is why you'll never win. You think by bringing us all together that the world will be better? That you can live without love or hate? You might be older than me in the years, but you haven't seen what I've seen. As long as three different species exist there will always be differences and differences lead to war." He growled. Utterly exasperated with the meaningless shit that seemed to eek out of every maw of every Throat member he met. What made their idea of world better than his own? He let a rumbling laughter take over him then, lowering his mouth down to Valentine's ears and whispering in his madman's voice. How dare he even mention Kou, her name did not deserve to be blemished by being spoken upon the lips of a traitor. "Does that not go for me too? If I die there will be another like me. I have already fought the hornless and none have defeated me in battle. Your little Sergeant Aryel tried and failed quite miserably. Your General came a little closer, but alas, not quite close enough yet. I have fought for the lives of my children and my Nurse, I do not care about my own life. Hurt them and I will unleash hell upon you and your poor excuses for herd mates. You don't know me that well traitor, you don't even know half the story, but you must know me well enough to understand I mean every word I say." With that d'Artagnan lifted his head and took a few steps back, grimacing at the image of his homeland in his mind. His words had dredged up memories that were best left forgotten, bloodied hooves and screams of battle. d'Artagnan had been brought up on a battlefield, one could say he never knew anything else but hatred. Was he to blame for the monster he had become, the colt whose father had taught him to be nothing else but that. Maybe. Yet, d'Artagnan never taught his own children to hate and he let them decide their own paths. Was that the will of a monster? The Nightshade could not bring himself to inflict the same upbringing upon his children as his own father had on himself. It left the question of what did d'Artagnan the Nightshade truly hate? Was it the simple fact of hornless existing or was it something much bigger, instigated by a violent upbringing. With his back to Valentine now, he looked at the mare with haunted eyes with the same smirk across his face. "I never called you brother. I can't even pity you. I'll take as long as I like, now... Sleep" with that d'Artagnan let go of the grip he had on his magic, not even watching Valentine as he directed it's power towards him. It was a narcotic effect to which he could render another asleep if he poured enough energy into it, the only downside was that the Nightshade himself was left rather weary. Taking in a deep breath he regarded the girl and silently wondered what she thought of it all. "Pick your side carefully child, the easy road is the one he chose, to deny something is much simpler than to fight for it. Look at the position he's in now, weak." He said in his brusque voice, smacking his blackened tail between crimson legs with Aramis still eying her. The Mender wondered if he should've killed Valentine, but he still did not know if they had extracted everything from him that they could. It pained him to leave such a weak soul living and he remained with his back to the fallen traitor in case his emotions got the better of him. Sighing, he lowered his head and motioned to his hell dog who dutifully bounded over and gingerly took the leaf from his mane. "Don't breathe" he cautioned the pup who happily walked through the pools of blood and stopped before the body of Valentine. Lifting out a paw, he attempted to make a small scratch mark at the base of the traitor's neck and moved to place the leaf on the possible open wound. He bounded away soon after to stand by his friend's feet, splattered in crimson blood, watching the grey form of Valentine with curiosity as d'Artagnan smiled. "He might as well have some entertainment whilst he sleeps." Speaking in dark humour as he carefully walked a little towards Zdravilo, eyes calculating. "So, what's your name?"

Image Credits

[d'Artagnan uses his sleep magic first before having Aramis make a small scratch and place a poisonous leaf where the wound is. The poison used is Henbane and can cause visual halucinations and sensations of flight.]

As Valentine spoke.. I listened. When he stopped, I spoke. "I'm not racist if that's what your saying. At least I don't think I am. What threat could non-racial horse pose to the Aurora Basin?" Confused and worried I'd be slain next, I turned to the bay. "Are you going to kill me too?" No worry was in my question. I held a slight feeling the bay wouldn't assassinate me... at least not yet he wouldn't. "Do you threaten every equalist?" Cocking an eyebrow at him she waited for an answer.

I didn't get one, well not immidietly at least.

When the bay just stood, poisoning the white horse. I let my ears relax, but I backed away from the scene a few steps. The whole racism thing was very dangerous ground. There was two ways to go. Racist or equalist were the two ways, but somehow, I found a way to flicker back and forth between the two. When I saw around unicorns I felt racist, but when I was around equines or pegasi I felt more un-racist. I guess I needed a firm shove in one or another direction. I knew easily what was wrong and what was right, yet I was useless when it came down to the gruff and tough reality of life. I wanted freedom, but equines and pegasi always got the power, so yes, maybe it was time for unicorns to rule.

Well, had pegasi gotten to shine yet?

There they were. My oh so familiar best friends, Confusion and Doubt. No, I would push through and do what I thought was right at the moment. I pinned my ears back and bared my teeth, but this time not at D'Artagnan, but to Valentine. "Why traitors should be burnt and not put under." I looked over the limp body hate tingling down my side. This wasn't racism as much as it was the fact that he was a traitor. "I think it'd be easier, and less a hassle to all together dispose of him." I picked my crown up high and proud.

OOC :: Wow, so sorry.

V a l e n ti n e And I just ran out of band aids I don't even know where to start cause you can bandage the damage but you never really can fix a heart Words punctured what was left of his bleeding heart, and he truly felt he had lost everything. Not even those that would recognize him would still feel something for him. He wasn't a victim by any means, but at the same time, where was the humanity? There was none. What the Nightshade said about heroes and villains wasn't correct; it just needed a slight adjustment. Each one of us are our own heroes and villains in the end, but you have to choose which side you let show to others. None of us could be truly, purely evil, or vice verse. Though he had his doubts about some, this could generally apply where it was needed. Even in his old age, he realized now that there was still so much more to learn, and still much more needed to be done. Why was he faced with death here, in this barren place where he was so unwelcome? The word "Sleep" was brought to his already feverish mind, and he could immediately feel the affects of the magic of which was possessing his soul. He struggled, trying to stay above the tide where he would sink into the state of mind where he was powerless to do anything but die, but he failed. He sunk into the unknown waters below, drowning in them, feeling himself choke on the blood as he coughed, trying to breathe. In the end he was asleep, and as he was fading could feel the hell hound make a small incision at the base of his neck, and place something in the small wound. It stung at first, but as the toxin spread so did the sleeping spell he had been placed under, and it was then that he begun to dream. Though it was too quickly in his opinion to be a self induced dream, it must have been whatever was placed inside his open wound. Within the next few minutes, the Henbane began to take affect. The first of many dreams or hallucinations appeared. His body shook, quivered under the facade that was playing before his eyes. He was next to Cherie, watching his little foal play carefree. They were back in the Throat. He felt at peace, and he nuzzled his mate, feeling the warm sun on his back and neck, making him tingle with sweat. A call grazed his ears, and he realized he was dozing, and he looked up to find his daughter right in his face, smiling and talking to him. He smiled at her in his sleepy state. He looked away for a moment, down at the ground. Something dripped onto the ground in front of him. It was red, and it looked like blood. It started to pool, and his eyes were deadlocked on it for the longest time, each drop shifting his gaze to it. He finally decided to see what was happening. His daughter was bleeding, her face torn from scratches. Her eyes were pulled from their sockets, popped by an invisible force. He wanted to back away, but he couldn't. His eyes were firmly locked on her, and her face started to melt, and she screamed like a banshee. He could move his head, and he found that his mate was in the same state, melting along side her daughter in a blood of rotted flesh and dried blood. Their screams echoed throughout his head, and he himself started to scream. His body was capable of moving, and he acted like a sleepwalker. His first movements were on the ground, rolling and twitching, as if trying to escape from something. Sound could vaguely echo from his vocal cords if he had enough oxygen in his lungs. He would eventually find his way to his feet in a couple of hours and walk very slowly away, dazed and sunk into the nightmares that the stinking nightshade offered to him. Speaking here

ArahLook in to my eyes and I can change your fate. However the gold will haunt you forever. The ivory body blended in the surroundings, elegant and nimble. The wishes of the individual where to be left alone with her thoughts. She walked slowly, the chill of the Basin did not phase her in the slightest. Instead the only thing that did bring her attention back to the Basin was the sound of someone coughing in death's grip. Her hooves strayed from their plotted path, and now wondered over to the sound. She still was slow in movement, no great rush come to the mare. She knew that a traitor was somewhere in The Basin dying, and she did not feel that he deserved her help. But it was still not in her nature to be cruel, many had wishes on their death bed. Arah would listen and do her best to help his soul rest. Then silence, the coughing subsided for a moment and she believed she heard voices, maybe it wasn't the traitor after all. She picked up the pace a little, now concern rested on her brow. More voices, their owners and the actual dialogue was unclear, muffled by distance. She waited for more sounds, to try and pick who was gathered, but then the screaming started. Arah froze, nerves gripped around her stomach causing her legs to lock up. Was one so stupid to approach hellish screams? She started moving again. Yes, she was. Why, well the doe felt it was her job to protect the Basin from every and any threat. No matter how much danger she ended putting herself in. She stopped behind the all too fimilar hide of D'artagnan. A smile caressed her chops for a moment and then her eyes traveled down to the withering soul on the ground. "The traitor?" She spat out the last word. She hated him already. No she did not know him, but anyone that threatened her beloved home and family deserved nothing but her contempt. She moved forwards and looked at the younger mare. Someone she did not know, unfortunately for them they where about to meet Arah in a bad mood. Golden orbs back on the screaming idiot, Arah found herself resisting the urge to kick him. She pinched her nostrils and pawed the ground, anger flaring through her. "No, we can not dispose of him." She moved forwards even more and sniffed at his coat. The throat sang from the scent. "Dearest Kri no doubt knows we have him, if he never returned...lets just say we are close enough to war as it is." Her ears were pinned, anger burning through them and her tail was clamped. She was quickly loosing her battle, trying to block the darkness inside her. Rarely did she become so angry that she was suddenly unrecognisable, closing her eyes Arah forced herself to release her ears and tail, try to let the anger out with deep breaths. For the most part it worked, her anger lessened and her head seemed to be back in a clear mind set. Once sure she had more of a grip, the golden irises where opened up to the world again. Shooting an apologetic glance at the other mare for her previous rude tones, Arah watched the traitor enjoy his entertainment. She frowned watching him, wondering what memories plagued his mind so badly. Oh how she would like to get herself into that mind, the damage she could cause. The things she would be able to change just by whispering soft, pretty and hypnotic words to the traitor. But she would resist, she would not touch the prisoner's mind without permission. She didn't know why he was here after all. He might have important information that was crucial for The Basin to know. Then again, The Nightshade was playing with him. The Impersonator was silent for a long time, after backing off from the prisoner to stand by herself watching the interactions happen. Curiosity burned through her, wanting to know what the traitor had actually done and when it would be her turn to play. She was not racist, or cruel by any extent. However when it came to dealing with those who threatened her loved ones...well she wanted to be the one who ended up punishing them. While the Nightshade was doing a wondeful job of playing with his dreams, Arah could make it permanent. She could destroy his entire life, would she feel bad about it? Yes. But did he deserve it to make it worth while?...Arah found herself no longer so sure. She looked at the Time Mender now, a soul that she had great respect for. Her gaze softened to a calmer tone, ever since she first met the Time Mender she had found that even just his mere presence called for respect. Then she had heard stories about him, both good and bad which made her respect him all the more. She tipped her head to the side watching him and now the other mare. She had not heard of or seen this one before. Guessing that she was a new member, Arah studied the other antlered mare. She seemed decent, even if she was a little thoughtless when suggesting things to do with the traitor. "Is there anyway I can help d'Artagnan?" Arah asked softly.