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 Posted: Fri Jun 06, 2008 8:23 pm
Her presence, though tiny, could hardly be missed as she crept past shadow-blackened tree trunks; a brilliant splash of dulled white and crimson in a forest that seemed so desolate. Silvered hooves shifted mindlessly across the forest floor, delicate in their placing, yet still managing to crush the life out of whatever crossed her path. Young, budding plants, skittering insects--even a rodent that had been unlucky enough to poke its nose out at the wrong time. Every flicker of life extinguished underneath her frail weight brought a startling sense of purpose to the young filly, purpose that nourished and soothed the rotten something that constantly shifted itself throughout her being. There was nothing wrong with it, was there? Just like there was nothing wrong with her... Her pale body held an awkward sort of stiffness to it as she moved, coaked with dried blood that danced across her form in great streamers. She could not remember the event that had left her so sullied, staining the wicked horns from her mother as well as the wings received from her father. Two races, equally stained upon her little figure.... As the forest parted and gave way to a quiet, peaceful sort of clearing, the small filly stopped to linger within the shadows. There was something dead in the dulled crimson of her eyes as she observed the meadow in silence, something that stifled her natural instincts to frolic about like any normal foal would. After a moment more, a tiny, huffing sigh slipped past her muzzle and Sacrifice shifted quietly out into the open. The sun felt good against her filthy coat, enough so she stretched her wings and gave herself a shake. It didn't bother her that she was out here by herself, small hooves uprooting the healthy grass beneath her feet. There was nothing wrong with this... The filly arched her neck for a moment to study her work, the crimson smirk that stretched across her throat plain for the eye to see until she was again engrossed in decimating the landscape. What did it matter to her if all that life was wiped out? Little bits of grass like that weren't important... They could always be replaced...
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Posted: Fri Jun 06, 2008 8:55 pm
Hadrian was happy to be alive. Though quite young and hardly experienced int he way the world worked, the young unicorn colt knew he had a purpose, a great purpose. . . Exactly what such a thing was, he honestly didn't know, but the little prince didn't NEED to know such details. All the blue eyed, blue swirled colt knew was that he was here and he was important and might very well someday change the world.
Such hope was his. . . such was his dream. The young one believed himself to be a prince through and through, and eveyrwhere he stepped was his kingdom. But he was no arrogant prince (well, at least he tried hard not to be - sometimes one forgot when one was so pretty!) but a charming prince - he followed the story books and fairytales his mother told him to the T!
He would rescue all the damsel's in distress. . . he would slay all the dragons and kalona's in the world . . .he would steel apples form the greedy and give to those less fortune. He would do it all, he would. . . Except, right now, Hadrian had a problem. . .
He was little.
And being little had a whole lot of disadvantages. Kalona, unless they were little like him, were too big to fight. On top of that, he didn't even know where one lived! Secondly, he was too small to pick the apples from the trees much less steel one from a greedy adult or the villages - and furthermore, his mother taught him to never, ever steal. So he couldn't be particularly generous that way. And last but not least, and perhaps most important to the life of a Prince Charming, there were no damsels . . . PERIOD, distressed or not!
Oooh, it wasn't easy being little. Part of the colt wished he could be just a little bigger. . . so then he could go on to do bigger and better things.
But today it seemed he was to be in luck. Where Sacrifice stomped and destroyed with little cloven hooves, Hadrian just happened to spot her from a distance. Slowing in his trot, he squinted and saw feathered wings sprouting from her back - oooooh, some sort of angel! Kind of like his brother but . . . but she had horns. And not like his own!
Further more, the little white angel was . . . was filthy! And not just any sort of filth but red filth. . blood filth! Ooooh - ooooh if ever a damsel was in distress this would be it! Eyes going wide with surprise and concern, Hadrian wasted no time. Puffing out his chest, tail flicking back and forth in agitation at the possibility of her harm, he swiftly bridged the distance between them, prancing from hoof to hoof in concern. "Ooooooohh," he gasped, further noticing her blood stains. "Oh no, what happened? Are you all right??" He was horrified that some beast was going to bound out and snatch the little white angel filly up wit his teeth. . .
Shame on bullies for going this far! So much blood and yet. . . . it didn't seem to be fresh. Not. . not really! But in his panic he hardly could discern the difference from stain and truely open wounds. "Please, just let me know you're ok!" Maybe not the most suave of approaches, and perhaps not even the most intelligent, but never had he seen one like Sacrifice.
Hadrian was young though. . he'd learn. Hopefully.
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Posted: Fri Jun 06, 2008 9:53 pm
To maul and mutilate... to rend these tender shoots before they had time to mature and blossom... why did it please her so? What feelings of invincibility, and of grim satisfaction to know she could rule whether things lived or died. She had considered if it was in her power to judge the fate of others, but whom better than she? From her blood-encrusted coat straight down to the meaning of her name, it seemed so natural for Sacrifice to pick and choose who she thought was worthy. At least for right now--she wasn't at all fond of those big crunchy beetles, or these plants, or much of anything right now.
A sudden voice startled her in the middle of her destructive contemplation and she gave a little jolt, snapping her head quickly to eye the little blue colt with a wild, almost feral expression. Who was he? What was he? Why was he blue, why did he have that horn poking from his forehead instead of in front of his ears, why was he speaking to her like that, why was he staring at her like he cared? Ruby red eyes widened a little as each question harshly compounded itself upon her mind, unable to provide a single answer to any of them. What did he want to know? And why from her? Was she all right...? What would--oh.
"...I don't see why it should stay alive." She finally answered, dropping her ivory nose towards the torn earth underneath her hooves. That must be what he was questioning--her reason for getting rid of such seemingly harmless grass. Perhaps that was why. How innocent it was, how pure and untouched while she herself could never be such a thing. She was tainted and twisted because of things that she didn't understand, and it frustrated her on some deeper level.
Again, the filly lifted her bloodied head to eye the stranger, suddenly struck with another thought. Who was he to judge? "It's a lie if we pretend that everything's okay... So I'm not okay." Came the cryptic response before she watched him again, distracted by his swirling colors. "You aren't okay, either. ...You only have one horn."
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Posted: Fri Jun 06, 2008 10:15 pm
Say what? Why who should stay alive? A moments confusion entered the concerned light of Hadrian's blue gaze, his little tail twitching as his brain tried to follow her thoughts. Stay alive. . . what stay alive? Oh . . . oh had she defeated the great beast that had attacked her? No - NO WAIT! Maybe, maybe she meant for him to go and kill the evil kalona?
Yes, that . . . that certainly must be it. Damsel's in distress often wanted their captives to be slain, or so the stories went. But what sort of beast was out there? Was it really a kalona? Was it big and black and terrifying and stinky? (He always imagined the evil ones were smelly.) Or was it something much more destructive . . . did it have magic? Did it know how to shape shift? Did it eat hearts for breakfast along with little foals bones!? If it was the latter, the two were really in trouble. Worse, if this little white angel honestly wanted him to kill her captive.
Mother had said that stealing was bad; Hadrian couldn't even imagine what sort of trouble he'd get in if she found out he hurt someone, much less KILLED them! And an adult at that . . . He'd be grounded for sure! Maybe he could comfort the little winged one and they could come up with a new idea. . . Just cause Hadrian had never slain anything before. . . he didn't even know where to begin!
See? This was why he needed to be bigger and older and stronger. Papa would know what to do . . . .
The more he looked at Sacrifice, the more concerned he became. The poor little one was so bloody . . .it couldn't be comfortable. But most importantly, Hadrian's little ears pricked when she admitted that she wasn't okay. "Oh no! Oh no, oh no, oh no!" He gasped, eyes wide as plates. Shimmying from hoof to hoof, he edged closer, further inspecting her wounds, tail thrashing wildly behind him. "Hurry! Lie down, quick! Tell me what hurts and I'll fix it! Can you walk? Cause if you can we can get you water, there's a stream not far! Or . . .or maybe you shouldn't walk?? Would that just hurt you more?" It saddened him greatly that such a little angel would get tormented so. . .
Oooooh! BULLIES!
Just wait til he grew up and could take them down! Just wait until he was big enough to protect winged nice ones just like her! Never again would one get splattered in blood - uh uh! Not if he had his way!
"I'm OK - I promise I am, so's my horn. But don't worry about me or this little thing . ." He gave a jerk of his head, as if to nod at the silver horn sticking out of his forehead. "Let's worry about you! I wanna make sure you get all better fast!" Hadrian circled the little one, trying to find the source of her pain, the hurt, the reason for all the blood. It was everywhere. "Where does it hurt the most? I'm a prince ya know, I can make it better!" Unicorns were special that way. . .
Or so he'd heard.
Sad thing was he didn't know how to heal yet and was far too little. But oh did he want to more than anything.
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Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2008 10:11 am
Her pale ears swept backwards and dove into the bloodied tufts of her mane to lay flat against her skull at all the noise he was making, simply unable to understand just what his problem was. He all but pranced closer and she shied away, pulling her lips back to bare her teeth in silent threat. "No." She said flatly, stubbornly planting her hooves, refusing to lay down, or move, or whatever silly thing it was he wanted her to do. "..." Her eyes were mere slits as she studied him, feeling abnormally agitated by his doting upon her. She wasn't used to it, and it made her feel like he was a parent-figure, worrying over him.
"I don't wanna." Sacrifice snarled, shaking her head furiously for emphasis. "Because you can't fix me cuz'..." She trailed off, distracted by his horn as he gave his head a little jerk. He was okay? Hmph, he was aggravating, was what he was. But what did he call himself? A prince...? She didn't know that was either, and expressed her displeasure with a few stomps of her tiny hooves. Why was he so confusing? Maybe she shouldn't talk to anymore people--not if they were going to be so weird like this! He made her head hurt.
"I was born wrong." The filly snorted, rustling her bloody wings as though to help draw into herself. "But it's not so wrong. Why is everyone so happy when life isn't? We all live in a lie." She repeated, growing a little more distant as she spoke. "...Maybe they don't see that they aren't okay. But I do. I see it. I can fix it. I can make them all okay..." It could be swift, but brutal enough to still ignite that spark of pleasure within her. Everything could end for the blind sheep, and they would be none the wiser...
"You think it's all okay, too." Sacrifice said with sudden realization, arching her neck to eye him better while the pseudo-crimson slash across her throat smiled grimly. "...But you knew something was wrong with me..." Her wings rustled with a bit of disappointment. So where did he stand? Did he linger on the line of awareness, and ignorance? He thought he could fix the things that were wrong--but he didn't understand how to fix them. He would have to learn. She couldn't teach him, because she hardly understood how it worked herself.
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Posted: Tue Jun 10, 2008 11:09 am
Hadrian paused in his worried prancing, coming to a stop before her though his tail swished back and forth in agitation. It was slowly dawning on Hadrian that something wasn't entirely right. . . . but maybe it was all the same. The more he looked at her the less like wounds she wore; no new blood was dripping and the horned lady didn't see mto be crying in pain or fear or concern. If anything she seemed perfectly normal. . . .And the blood didn't really smell like fresh blood. It just . . .was there. Stained on her pure white coat. Hmm. . . . .
It slowly dawned on the teal swirled boy that she didn't seem all that happy. She glared at him, her ears were pinned and her little teeth had been bared. Still, the foal couldn't help but reckon that if he were a damsel in distress, he probably wouldn't be very happy either. Canting his head lightly at the filly, Hadrian tried to make sense of the words she spoke. Why couldn't he fix her? He certainly would be willing to try! But then. . . why did she say she was born wrong? But then she could fix all the wrongess in the world?
It was enough to make his poor little head hurt. What was she talking about? Was she a witch and a damsel all in one? The little angel spoke in riddles but Hadrian was stubborn enough to want to fix her and figure her out. It was what friends did, afterall, and if he was going to be any sort of good hearted prince he'd not let confusion throw him! No, nope, no. ". . . . so can I . . . can I help you? I want to fix you, honest I do! Life isnt' happy all the times but you take the bad times cause they make the good times all the more better! If we never had bad times, we'd never know how good the good times are!" Or something like that. He'd learned that the bad times had to be cleared for the happy endings to really shine.
All the stories had bad moments - when the evil kalona captured the mare, or when the stallion was tricked in to a trap! Hopelessness was in all the stories, but if Hadrian knew one thing about an ideal, fairy-tail world it was that happy endings always prevailed. He couldn't hlep but believe that life was the same way.
Even for his little two horned bloody angel.
It seemed the pair both walked on a trail of confusion. . . Hadrian confused Sacrifice but Sacrifice confused Hadrian. Maybe they'd meet in the middle somewhere, if all went well.
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Posted: Thu Jun 12, 2008 9:49 pm
If she couldn't read the uneasiness now scrawled all over his face, she could certainly hear it in his voice. Now did he understand? She somehow doubted it. Her sullied wings began to rustle more quickly with her discomfort as he began to speak of things she didn't understand. Good times? "I..." Sacrifice faltered a little, wracking what little experience she had in the world to try and come up with something. "I don't remember a good time..." The small hybrid admitted after a moment. The only thing good time she could remember was when she 'helped' things, but that wasn't good, was it? Then again, why shouldn't it be? She was ridding the world of a bit of suffering, even if the ones whom she saved failed to realize what torment they were trapped in.
"I don't know." She answered a bit more quietly to his question as to whether or not he could provide aid. "I dunno how. M'not hurt." Physically, she was fine, and mentally... well, as far as the filly knew, she was fine there, too. "I don't have bad times, but I don't have good times neither." This was true, right? Sacrifice couldn't particularly remember anything extrordinarily bad happening to her, and the only good times came from the rush of pleasure that surged whenever some fleeting life was snuffed out underneath her silvery hooves.
The bloodied filly drew herself up with a cold stare pinned upon the other, ears flicking rapidly behind her stained horns. "...What kind of good times have you had?" She finally asked. If she couldn't understand it herself, well... he seemed like he'd know the answer.
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