tear the sun and me apart [psyche]

the Rift

[PRIVATE] tear the sun and me apart [psyche]

Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380

Deceased

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

RayoDeSoleil

#10

11-19-2013, 03:52 PM

Perhaps if the shade had been paying attention, she would have seen the questions on Ktulu's face, but as it were she was not privy to the younger mare's thoughts. What would her niece think of her, to have her racism confirmed? The thought would have been an odd one, for the deposed Empress had been found in a particularly disheveled state: if she denounced her old ways, if she learned how to live in kinder way, if she tried to view those she had looked down Upon for so long in a better light, would it make a difference? Would she be forgiven, or would she always be hated? Worse, would she be able to forgive herself?

She was not destined for greatness, not destined to be revered, of that she was now sure. And, surprisingly, she was not angered by the realization. What had her brief stint of glory brought her except exhaustion and, at the end of it, a very blunt kick in the ass for things entirely beyond her control? How much good had she done, how had she furthered her race? She had done nothing except fail. This was better, to be no one and nothing, alone in her misery, forgotten to all that had once known her. She would be a legend - no, not even that. She would be a, "remember when," her name only brought out when its speaker had had far too many odd mushrooms, compared to the other great failures of the world.

It did not hurt to be a failure; it hurt to be alone.

And it had taken her far too long to realize that.

Ktulu's question broke through her reverie, and her amber gaze rose to meet her niece's. For a moment, the shade stares in silence, for wouldn't it be better if Ktulu continued to think she was no more than another run down mare? But in the end, her loneliness (and her not-quite-real decision to be a better unicorn) won out, and her vocals formed quietly, echoing softly against the icy walls her their refuge. "Your father is my half-brother," she informed the femme, allowing a moment for the implications to sink in. "Though I can't blame him for trying to escape that fate." She sighed deeply then, something akin to shame coloring her eyes.

"Have you truly learned nothing of your heritage?"

[W/C | ---]

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