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 Posted: Fri Jan 04, 2008 2:08 pm
 The little filly had slipped out of her mother's sight for the umpteenth time. Though she was growing, slowly, it seemed as if she were always going to be a bit on the small side. A runt, if you would, petite in frame and potentially easy prey. Ironic that the fates would grant her that much of a wish. . . . Keep her small and defenseless, dub her nothing more than a free meal and yet keep her demise so far! Oh, no matter how hard she tried she was but a failure. . . .
She failed her mother, her father, and all the family in between. Even her affections for Rue meant little as her brother absolutely adored Ezriel and followed in his wake.
Worthless. . . Or so the quite voice licked at her head. Her regret wasn't just her own, as similar to her father her soul had been left shattered and broken. Unwanted she was, by both mother and father - the little one had been bathed in regret since conception. To make matters worse, she had heard her mother and father speak while huddled tight in her basket - and not just on one occasion but multiple times! Low whispered words, the sound of raw emotion. . . Tears.
Oh, perhaps that hurt the most.
For unlike some mothers who were nothing but joyous for their offspring, what had Rue and she brought but tears? Wretched, gut-wrenching sobs that had pegged them directly as the source. Though Rue didn't - couldn't - understand and know, Cassiel did. She had heard first hand and witnessed such pain - her empathy was great, and it didn't take a genius for her to know that their life caused their parents grief.
And it hurt. . . .
To be born a regret, to become an endless obligation on those that were supposed to love you ceaselessly. . . . Life was cruel, but on that same note, one such as Cassiel knew she didn't deserve such kindness. She knew her place and knew it well - perhaps instead of Cassiel they should have named her Regret, Unwanted, Mistake. The war within her heart and soul was endless - logic whispered that Mother tried to love but darkness parried by admitting that Mother had also been the first to cry. And Father - . . . Father faked not, wanted not - he favored Rue, of course, though exactly how strong a bond such favoritism would bind was uncertain. He might favor - but her certainly didn't love, and he certainly didn't bother to want her around.
Nobody did - not truly.
And honestly she couldn't blame them. Ears pinned, stumbling through the snow, the broken spirited filly glanced around the snow covered plain. It was empty, a void, a wasteland. It was where a girl like she should stay . . . . Glancing around, she yearned for a mighty beast to come along and rescue her - not from herself - but from plaguing her family. If she were to disappear, none would notice. . . If her remains were to stain the snow covered plains, perhaps than Ezriel and Eponine would smile.
Tired from her long walk away from home, the little one flopped down, ignoring the chill in the wind. She'd rest for a bit before she continued. . . if she continued. Maybe she'd just sit here and wait, like she had when she bumped in to Harij - wait for a doom that never seemed to come.
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Posted: Fri Jan 04, 2008 2:50 pm
 The scent was somewhat familiar. It had a hint of Ezriel but also something foreign. Something he had never smelled before. He had been tracking it for ten minutes or so when he finally came into sight of the foal. Suddenly the scent made sense. This must be one of foals that Ezriel fathered. But why was she all alone? Where was Ezriel? The mother? Or the other foal he had heard about? "My my.. what do we have here," he called out from behind as he stepped out from a crop of trees. His spikes tugged at branches causing snow to fall upon the large stallion. This easily went ignored except for a slight wince. It seemed that the spikes and wounds hurt more when it was cold. He could see a bit of Ezriel in the foal, and perhaps even a bit of himself. He did not know what the mother looked like nor had he ever heard of her from Ezriel. Perhaps she was simply used. Ezriel was in love with Nimue after all. His Nimue, but he was a stallion now and stallions had needs. Sometimes those needs lead to foals. He knew that all too well. Of course, he doubted Ezriel took the mare like he had taken Korrine. Knowing Ezriel, it had been a gentler experience. It bothered him that Ezriel got to experience that before him but he would know what it was like soon enough with Nimue. She was as pale as the moon but her hair was as dark as the night. Just the thought of her made his blood heat up. He turned his attention back on the little foal before him. He wasn't sure how to react. He hated foals but this.. this was his grandchild. Of course, she didn't know that, did she? And he wasn't quite sure what he felt about her either.
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Posted: Fri Jan 04, 2008 3:34 pm
The little filly hardly moved as a voice called out. It was a strange voice, one that she'd never heard before and part of her inwardly shuddered. It wasn't out of fear, so much, as a surge of hopelessness that overwhelmed her spirits. Who had discovered her today. . .? Black eyes that burned with apathy suddenly turned up from her hooves, and her magenta neck craned over her shoulder to spot this stranger.
A long silence passed as she saw quite clearly the stallion step from out of the underbresh - it almost looked like her father, or Rue but. . . . but not at all! Crimson and ebony locks fell over his neck, like a waterful of despair, and bloodied wings jutted form his back. His eyes were as black as hers and bloodied spikes tore through his body. . . . Many more spikes than Ezriel had. The little one stared, unsure who this stranger might be . . . .
A mighty beast, to be sure - the possibility of relation hardly stung the young foal. She looked nothing like her mother or maternal relatives - so why dare she hope she strike relation to this stranger? Just because her father had spikes and those same burning black eyes didn't mean anything. Her father had no wings, her father harbored no ebony and crimson stained mane either. . .
But wings.
Lani had wings, certainly, but nothing like this. Never like this. Her gaze saw the blood and a small fragment of her told her to run. But the darkness that swept within her shell told her that instead, this creature was hope. So much blood meant that it was no stranger to death. . . Was this her angel come down to rescue her from the world? Was this the one that would give her the only comfort she could fathom?
Possibly.
If ever an angel lived, this one was it.
Rising on shaky legs, the little one turned to face Reaper fully. Her ears lay pinned and her head drooped, but without a sound she trotted closer to bridge the gap between them. She wasn't afraid to die - though the thought of pain did cause her to inwardly mourn. Even if she wanted death she didn't like to hurt - hurt was no fun at all.
But it's all you deserve. . . Or so the voice whispered, tickling her thoughts back in to submission. You should be so lucky.
Coming to a stop before the beast, she rolled to her side, exposing her neck. Averting her gaze, so unworthy to look upon her angel of despair, she waited for a hoof or horn to rip and crunch through. But perhaps, before she went, she could thank him. Just in case her death was too swift to say otherwise. A voice so small and hardly above a whisper broke through the cold afternoon. ". . . . have you come to eat me, sir? Was that hope in her voice, very small, very slight? She almost seemed eager. . . . almost. Throughout her pain it was hard to tell. "I - I promise I won't run. . . And I'll try not to stain your hooves or horns too bad either." Maybe it was too much to ask, but surely this one couldn't turn her request away. Surely not! If her one plea could only be granted, her one wish seen through perhaps those that suffered for her presence could be saved. . . .
Of course, it was selfish to think they'd hardly notice her disappearance from the earth. She was no more than a stain to the earth, something easily covered and over looked.
As if they should be affected by her loss. No one would weap for one so worthless, one so small and slight. Heaven help the maggots that could feast on her remains.
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Posted: Sat Jan 05, 2008 2:13 pm
"The fun comes in the hunt," he teased though it was an honest comment all the same. "What enjoyment is offered me when your neck is so readily bared? At the very least, you could feign terror, grand-daughter."
She was a perplexing little thing. Was her life so horrible that she wished to end it? She had no clue what real horror was. She was far too young to have experienced anything remotely traumatizing. Perhaps she was emotional and dramatic. That would need fixed if she was to be a grandchild of his. He had no tolerance for that kind of weakness in his family.
But was she family? Surely related by blood but not his burden to carry. This fell on Ezriel and whichever nag he managed to rut.
Still, he was curious about her. She was not the kind of foal he would expect from Ezriel's loins. She looked perfectly ordinary but had an inner darkness all the same. Perhaps a hint of madness. It seemed out of place for Ezriel to abandon her like this, especially with those that raised him. Perhaps this little filly ran away? That was far more likely.. but why?
"I've nearly killed most of the members of your family at some point or another. Why do you wish for the same experience? Foals don't appeal to me. There's no challenge in it so go jump off a cliff if you want to die."
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Posted: Sat Jan 05, 2008 10:13 pm
Cassiel blinked, her ebony orbs - if possible - darkening as she realized that yet again. . . she failed. Of all the wicked twists of fate, they send her down some angel of demise and what does he do? Reject her. Just like everyone else in the world. Frustration stirred, though it quickly passed as she lay still in the snow. Even her angel mocked her so and there was nothing she could do to change his mind.
A pink ear twitched before she finally rose, not bothering to shake the cold snow from her fur or mane. A bit disheveled, she stared up at the glorious beast before her, ever further depressed. Though her hurt was nothing compared to the pain of Reaper, it was pain enough, and madness mixed the same. Empathy inherited from mother and the softer sides of Ezriel's lineage mixed brutally with darkness all the same.
Still, unlike her father, there was no anger. Such an emotion was stripped away and the fire that burned her soul was kindled with despair. She didn't blame anyone for the state of affairs, to her everything . . . just. . . was. Like night succumbed to day and vice-versa, the little filly knew her place well in the world, and that was beneath them all.
And though her 'angel' made mention of relation, the filly knew well her place - and it was far and fast beneath him.
Her shoulders heaved again as he spoke, the little one dipped a paw deeper in the snow. A cliff, says the one doused in blood. A cliff. So she was unworthy to be slaughtered, unworthy to be ripped to two. Ah, life was a comedy and she knew herself to be the star. Wretched - absolutely wretched! Her voice came out as quiet and strained a whisper as before, and she could only mildly respond, "I have yet to find one. 'Sides. . . mother snatches me quickly nowadays." All right, so it wasn't a great excuse but what could one expect from one so small? There were no ponds to drown, there were no cliffs to fall from - at least none she could reach. A pity she hadn't been born in the mountains.
Studying the winged angel, she mulled over his form. So was it true that this one was related? Or was he but teasing? . . . no, he didn't look like the teasing type. Still - Cassiel had enough manners to speak when spoken to, no matter how much she cringed to do so. "At first I thought you were my . . my angel and perhaps it might have brought youpleasure, but it. . . . it doesn't. . . " A thought occurred and she wondered, tail swishing behind her. "Not even if I ran? . . . I seek out an end because it. . . .it's what Father and Mother would have me do."
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Posted: Sun Jan 06, 2008 7:33 am
"I see no mother around you now. Shall I accompany you to a cliff? Then if she comes to 'save the day', I can toss her over so that you may have company?" He was starting to wonder if this foal had been born with some kind of defect but aren't animals supposed to kill young such as this? Why let her grow or wander alone?
"Runt, I am no longer worthy to be called an angel. I was kicked out of the heavens long ago. It's a title I do not deserve nor do not want. I am nothing short of a monster. If you want to die so desperately, I won't disappoint you. You can run and I will snap your neck like a twig. The last sound you hear will be the bones crunching beneath my jaws. The last thing you will feel will be the sharp, quick pain before you become paralyzed. You will lay there in silence, gasping at what air you can though it will not reach your lungs. It won't be pretty. By the time I'm done with you, they won't be able to tell you from a battered deer carcass."
He had no tolerance for weakness. If this foal was as hopeless as the thought then he'd be doing Ezriel a service by getting rid of her. She'd bring him nothing but shame.
"Another option would be to shape up. Get your act together. Stop this pity s**t. 'Oh, I want to die'," he mocked before continuing, "I don't know what is going on in that little head of yours but I can tell you that you haven't experienced jack s**t in your life. What? No friends? Feel like mommy and daddy don't understand you? Don't love you? Don't want you? What is your story? I killed my own father. My mother really doesn't want me because of what I did. I was cast out of the heavens and forced to live my life in pain on a daily basis. You don't see me running or begging for death. No, I take what life deals me and then I damn well deal it right back."
He tore at the ground with his hooves. Angry at the foal. Nothing she experienced could be remotely traumatizing. It's all mental. "You're a disgrace to my bloodline," he added angrily, hoping if anything, that would snap her out of her woe-is-me state of mind. "I know it's not what you want to here but it's the damn truth. You have a lot of potential as a grand-daughter of mine and you're wasting it away by crying and asking to die when you haven't even had a real taste of living yet."
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Posted: Sun Jan 06, 2008 9:35 am
So - he might very well give her her wish. Two little crimson stained ears pricked as she listened, dark voids staring up at the angel before her. She might very well have taken him up on the offer for a cliffside rendezvous, only he made mention of tossing her mother over too - and that wouldn't do well at all.
Pity.
Then he painted a rather pretty picture of her neck being snapped. Just like a twig, he said. But if it were like a twig, there should be no crunching - just one great snap. Morbid little one that she was, her tail wagged behind her in an almost cheery manner at such a description, black eyes brightening at such an image. Shy as she was, dark spirited as she was, there was something fascinating about the dead. In fact, the more he spoke about it, the more curious she became - perhaps not to experience such a fate herself, but to at least witness it. "Would I twitch, d'ya think?
It was a completely valid question. In fact, the more Cassiel thought of it, she realized she hadn't had a chance to witness anything die. Oh sure, sometimes she saw a dead bird here, a few bones of an eaten deer there but. . . to witness the act? Besides the birds picking out insects - no - she'd never see something die.
Curious that her angel was truly something from the heavens. He claimed himself a monster, but Cassiel still saw him as something a wee-bit lovelier than that. Cast out and struck out he might be, if anything it made the little one feel a bit more like her grandpa. She was young, stupid, and didn't understand the entirety of the way the world worked - but as he had been cast out and unwanted from the stars above, Cassiel felt as though she had been unwanted here on the earth below.
Though his words were harsh, they effected the girl little. Even his mocking did little to dampen her spirits - in a sense they were dampened enough and could absorb no more pain. His words fell on deaf ears, though they did twitch some as he spoke. He still continued to call her grand-daughter though, which was a good sign, and oddly enough he claimed she had potential. What sort of potential?
As far as she understood it was true that her parents didn't want her, didn't love her. Sometimes she wondered if perhaps she might be off her mark, but then that darkness remembered the truth. Besides that, what of her life? If this bloody-winged one had no friends, had no understanding from the heaven and lived a life of pain too . . . then what was he living for? It was inspiring, in a sense, and the cogs of her mind turned and turned. "What do you live for, then, Grandpa? What's this . . potential . . that you see?" A valid question, the girl was curious, and at least a little receptive to his idea. It didn't bother her that he was ashamed of her, it didn't upset her too greatly that he was angry and quite prepared to cause her suffering. She was sure if tables were turned, she would feel the same way. . . . Still, he WAS inspiring - and that was good enough to keep her intrigued in what he might have to say. I had only sought it out in hopes to make them happy," she stated in a minor defense to her plea.
Though it sounded. . . interesting. . . perhaps, maybe, just MAYBE there was something more about this living thing she was missing. Still, the girl did feel a spark of indifferance and she puffed out her chest a little, stating darkling, "I din' cry. . . I just asked, that's all.
There WAS a difference.
Yes, she had cried before in her life, but more often than not she merely accepted things at face value and fact. Grandpa-Person said she had potential - even as nothing and unwanted - but what sort would that be? What could she do? She certainly wasn't some sort of sight to behold such as he! She had no horns like Ezriel, and was shaped more like her mother.
No, she hadn't tasted much of living but that was because she had assumed an unwanted and untouchable creature such as she didn't have all that much to live FOR. So what did Grandpa see? And in fact, now that she thought of it, hadn't Eponine or Twilight said something similar before? Maybe. . . . It was hard to tell or remember, looking through that haze of guilt and shadow.
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Posted: Sun Jan 06, 2008 9:56 am
"I live for the right to make my place in the world. To stand my ground. I deserve the right to live as do all others. I will not be cast aside. I will not be forgotten." The large stallion looked up at the heavens. He resented them and the actions they forced on him. If he ever did make it back there, he'd bring them Hell.
After a moment, he turned his attention back to the foal. "Damn their happiness. What right do they have to be happy if it comes to a loss of yourself? That's you admitting they are better than you, and that you must bend to make them happy. What did they do to earn it? Create you? Oh, what hard work THAT is. If you spend your entire life pleasing others, you'll never find out what pleases you. To hell with what they think, or I think. You need to stand your ground and find out what you think. If you spend so much time moping, you'll never enjoy living and that's no one's fault but your own."
He had cast away so many in his life, those that didn't understand him. Didn't want him around. There were many that wanted him dead, perhaps his own daughter and sons. But that was life. Despite all the negative, he liked who he was. He liked killing things. He liked Nimue and he planned to have his own set of foals soon.. though he wouldn't be the typical father. He would do his best to raise them proud and strong. Perhaps that was why he held a little interest in this foal. It was good practice, after all, wasn't it?
His life held little happiness but he loved living. There was pride in it. As long as he was alive, things could get done. He could get revenge, he could possibly heal though he thought that was unlikely. He could make amends or continue terrorizing the living hell out of all that he could. Anything was possible. As long as he was alive, he could choose his path in life and he liked that control. Dying would do nothing but bring enjoyment to those that did not deserve it. Death closed all doors and he would gain nothing. Even the idea of peace would fall flat because one wouldn't be around to enjoy it. Death was final. Death was nothing. And nothing was a waste.
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Posted: Wed Jan 09, 2008 11:53 pm
Cassiel pricked her ears as her other Grandpa spoke. In a way, it seemed as if he were the General giving command to one of his Privates, and strangely enough to Cassiel that's exactly how it felt. His words were valid and to a point - he made no excuses and told her exactly what it was he thought she needed to hear. There was nothing in his words save cold hard truth, and a vindicated manner that made it hard not to listen. It was . . . oddly enough. . . inspirational!
The little foal glanced up at the Heavens, almost crinkling her nose as she peeked. Whatever was up there seemed to be not so good, at least according to her Grandpapa's body language. Oh well - maybe he just didn't like stars. Or clouds.
Yeah, Cassiel didn't like clouds either.
They were dumb. And far too fluffy for anyones good.
Still, the cogs that worked deep in her heart and spirit were beginning to find themselves at the door of a reawakening. All her life she had been unwanted - hell, even her Grandpapa standing before her now seemed to take little interest in her. But that darkness had shifted ever so slightly, and a new thought struck and amused the girl.
The question was 'why' and the answer had none.
Why should she be worthless just because her parents ill thoughts?
Why did their opinions matter? Oh yes, they were her family mind, and though they had made regret in creating her and Rue. . . . should it matter so deeply?
Why did she not have the right to live too? Oh, certainly, she didn't know what their was to live for besides his brother. And Cassiel wasn't so sure she liked the idea. . . . fun and games never came to her easily, and friendship was even more difficult to find!
Still. . . . maybe there was something she was missing. Besides care and obligation, why did her mother want her to live so bad? Why hadn't Ezriel merely destroyed htem when he had the chance? Why, why, why. . . . . It was almost like that had, odd as it seemed, wanted her to live. Perhaps what the winged one before her said was true. . . .
Perhaps there was something more to this life thing. The darkness within her screamed protest, but like her father, she harbored happier moments, inspired moments. It wasn't always night within the inside - it just took a little work to flip the switch.
The little foal swished her tail some, and her ears twitched as she studied the one before her. Hmmm. " . . . . so what games does Grandpapa play, then?" Pausing for a moment, she decided to ask a bold question, though it wasn't out of any fear from HIM. It was merely most unusual for her. "Would you play with me?"
If life was to be lived, than something told her that she wanted to play. It surely wasn't the darkness that thought a good game might be leaping off the cliff. BUT it was something else - a natural instinct that made her little rump wriggle in the oddest feeling. . . a feeling she might later discover as excitement.
No, she didn't expect him to take her up on an offer. Part of her saw him as not the playing sort but it was worth a shot. Foal logic only told her that he had said he wouldn't be forgotten, and he had a right to live. Living, as far as instinct told her, meant games and play and freedom. . . .
Even though Cassiel still wasn't sure if she really wanted such things. A darkness still stirred within her, and though it had paused it still forever lurked. The typical games her brother played might easily bore her, and such darkness might indeed need to find new form. Almost as an afterthought, the little one added softly, but quite sincerely, "I won't forget you, Grandpa." And that was that.
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Posted: Fri Jan 11, 2008 7:25 pm
Reaper could only stop and stare at the little foal. Play? With her? What the hell? Did he give off the wrong impression? "I don't play games," he stated coldly before adding a little less gruffly, "I won't forget you either."
And indeed, it was true. It wasn't every day that a soquili had the nerve to meet him eye to eye, especially one as young as her. Though he wouldn't admit it, there was a little pride in him to know that his grand-daughter did not know fear. Of course, such bravery could also be seen as foolishness in some circumstances but she would have to learn her own way. It was the only way for her to grow up strong.
It was also rare that a creature so readily sought death but he did not see that as a strength in the little foal. He saw it as cowardice. It was easy to run from confrontation and pain, escaping even life itself to get away from all. He had no respect for such things. He preferred to face things head on and if he died, at least it would be with honor. He knew that his death would eventually come in a battle and he would not change it for the world. His father died that way, by his own hooves and teeth. He wanted to die the same. However, his opponent would have to best him fairly. It had to be done right.
But this little foal knew of so little in the world. She had so much to learn and it seemed silly to him that she'd want to leave before having even a taste of living. He couldn't help but wonder if he was somehow at fault. He was not a part of Ezriel's life, so had Ezriel decided not to be a part of hers? He did not know their story, and to be honest, he did not wish to know. It was none of his business what his son did. Though they had bonded in the last battle somewhat, they were far from friends.
Of course, something tugged at Reaper's heart strings.His parents would be ashamed of him if they knew he left a foal out in the snow wandering alone. Especially one of his bloodline and that made her a part of their bloodline. She was their great grand-daughter. He would do the right thing.
"What is your name, filly," he asked. If she had mentioned it before, he had forgotten. "I think I will walk you home." He stated it roughly as if he will not take no for an answer.
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Posted: Sun Jan 20, 2008 10:30 pm
Part of the filly felt a sense of discouragement when he so abruptly denied her request for a game. Of course, logic screamed that of course he wouldn't play with the likes of her, grand-daughter or not. . . . . She wasn't worth such a thing, but wait! No. . . . She was - right? He hadn't played with her not because it was she who had requested such a thing, but because he didn't play at all!
Odd. Black eyes stared up at him inquisitively, the cogs of her young mind working hard to grasp this concept. She didn't play much herself, but something told her that as a filly she was supposed to. Her life was meant to revolve around games and light hearted excursions that would leave her family to question where she had disappeared. It was . . . . . instinctive. And such a desire was only further heightened at the prospect of playing WITH someone else. . .
Even if her only option at present was the bloodied-winged-one.
Grandpapa.
Any disappointment she felt was quickly pushed aside and forgotten. She wasn't the sulking sort, and she found little offense in his words. Though they were cold and practically unfeeling, it didn't concern her. It didn't seem to effect her that she might not be well liked or her attention wanted at all! Though she had wanted death, for her parents sake, Reaper's words had caused her little mind to change course, ever so slightly. Obviously there was something about this living-bit that she had to figure out, had to understand. . . . .
And even though she might not see herself as something great, perhaps there was more to her than she understood. New discoveries needed to be made, but it wasn't going to be an easy task. Already she could feel the shadow of an overwhelming self-loathing strike at her spirit - but no. . . she refused to yield to it.
Right now, she had other things to do.
Like walk with Grandpapa in the snow.
Her little, ebony tassel of fluff swished behind her as she peeked up at the tall form before her. There was hope. . . somewhere. The greatest things about young ones was their ability to accept change and be manipulated by the ideas surrounding them. She wasn't hardened in to stone yet, she was malleable and receptive. Though that darkness would always stain her soul, though she was far from perfect or quite as strong as her grandfather, that didn't mean she'd be such a way forever. She just knew no other way.
Giving her coat a little shake, the crimson stained filly did brighten at the prospect of being walked home. Though her parents regretted her life, it was nice to know that the broken-angel before her felt inclined enough to do such a thing. Though her parents hated, though she had caused them hurt and pain and regret. . . . well. . . . it seemed that that was just the way it was going to be. Just a facet of this living and life thing. At his question, she answered, though her voice was small as ever, forever cursed to be a whisper. "Cassiel. . .I'm Cassiel. Do . . . Do you have a name too, Grandpapa, or. . . . . or is it just that?"
She was curious to know. Papa was Ezriel, Mamma was Eponine, and her other Grandpa had been dubbed Twilight. She had a good memory, even if many thought her too sullen to actually listen. Leaning over, intimidated by his spikes, she nosed a softer part of his stained leg before taking a few steps through the snow. A larger mound required her to leap some, but her hooves hit hidden ice underneath. Slipping, she twisted and managed to catch herself, though she did snort in annoyance.
Stupid ice.
It was almost as stupid as the clouds above.
Glancing over her shoulder, dark eyes looking up to Reaper, she couldn't help but warn, "Careful, Grandpa - I dun want you to slip."
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Posted: Sun Feb 17, 2008 8:31 am
The stallion turned and began to lead the walk home. He had a rough idea of where Ezriel liked to hang out and he was sure if that wasn't the right place, he would be able to get the directions out of some damn animal or soquili. "I have many names," he replied as he walked, "I was born with the name of Gabriel but I shed that when I had become an adult. Some call me 'Monster'. Some call me 'Evil'. I call myself 'Reaper'." A part of him couldn't resist teasing albeit lightly, "I rather like it, myself."
He paused as she slipped, giving her a moment to catch her balance. He had felt the touch against her legs and decided it would be time for a story, "The blood never stops flowing," he started, nudging his head towards the wounds caused by the spikes. "That is my punishment for being different. I mentioned that I was once an 'angel' and that I was kicked out. Well, it was because I was not the same as them. I had to fight to survive, for my way to live and I do mean this quite literally. I killed five Angeni for the right to live. I killed my own father." His voice trailed off at the end. One of his biggest regrets was killing his father.
"As punishment for my crimes, I was turned into a half demon. I used to have a gorgeous tail, similar to your own but now I have a tail of a demon. I lost my second set of wings so I could never fly back to the clouds, even if I wanted to. The worst of my punishment came with the spikes. The pain never ceases and the blood never stops. I take my punishment with pride. No matter what they throw my way, I live. I live my way. That's something they will never beat out of me. That's the way you should be. I adopted the new name along with my new 'look'," he explained.
Spending time with the foal was odd. Would it be like this with his own foals? He found he did not mind teaching and explaining things. He could do that. Playing.. emotional bonding... perhaps Nimue could provide those things.
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Posted: Sun Feb 17, 2008 9:15 am
((Ahh - more revelations for my girl! x3 I think she's unbreaking the most because of 'not-so-angel-Grandpa'.))
Part of Cassiel wished not to go home so soon. Sure, he was quite sure they would be running in to her mother soon enough, as Ezriel often was away with Rue but. . . . but it wasn't that she was home that she found disappointment in; it was that she was more than sure once not-so-angel-grandpa dropped her off, he would be away again.
She wasn't sure she liked that.
Everyone it seemed, asides from her mother and a good portion of that side of the family, left her. Why? Rue was no different than her except for his colouring. Was it because he had red hair like Ezriel? Or was it only because her hair was black? Reaper had black hair except his was stained with crimson, as if the blood that poured through his wounds had permanently tangled within his hair. A shame she hadn't any red to match - maybe then she'd make her father and not-so-angel-grandpa happier.
Oh well.
There was no changing that now, was there? At least she shared the black eyes. That was special enough, for now. No spikes, maybe, and no horns or wings or demon tail either. But there were eyes she could claim as theirs, and that was better than nothing. From what she understood, being different wasn't necessarily a good thing, and that just plum didn't seem fair!
Hmph.
Plodding through the snow with what many would dub a spiked monstrosity, the foal listened intently to what the stallion had to say. Monster? Evil? She glanced up at him as he admitted such, but caught what appeared to be jest as he admitted his like to the names. Something told her Reaper was perhaps the worst stallion in the world to have met; logic told her she shouldn't be with him and yet. . . . . evil he might be, that didn't mean he couldn't be treated with respect. Right? That's what she'd learned not to treat others differnetly, no matterh ow different they were!
. . . . hmph. But didn't Zevach train to defend? Didn't Ezriel train too? Wasnt that why he took Rue? Besides, memory reminded her that the white and black bleeding beast beside her held no remorse in throwing her and her mother off a cliff. Though part of her understood there'd be no loss on HER end, she didn't want her mother hurt no matter what! Brushing aside such things, the filly swished her tail as the cogs of her mind worked. Though she had a skewed perception, she had already learned a few solid lessons within the moment - that no matter what others felt it was ok to live. Just because one was unwanted didn't mean she had to succumb to such a will. She could live properly, couldn't she?
Despite her reservations about such an idea, what intrigued her most was his admittance to death and pain. Part of the girl was fascinated that he had killed, that he had inflicted death on so many. It didn't trouble her - why should it? It was a predator-prey world out there, was it not? They killed grass when they ate, two-legged ones killed others for meat, just as wolves and raptors and other beasts killed. Death was just a part of life, another facet to prove ones mortality.
Death happened to everything and therefor why was it wrong if it came in the form of another? Maybe that was how the spirits had wanted ones end to be. Maybe that was exactly how the plan was supposed to be all along.
Ah, but she was young yet. Nose crinkling in her thought, the little filly swished her black tail behind her, taking another leap in to a larger pile of snow before them. It was deep, and it took her a minute to poke her head back up as she bunched for another little hope out of the pile, but what she had to find out was important. She hurt. . . . and had always assumed it was wrong. It was bad. It was not right. But what Reaper had just said. . . hmm. "It is good that you lived, Grandpapa - you should be allowed to too! I'm glad for it else we might not ever have met! But. . . does this mean that pain, even if it hurts, isn't always bad? It can be all right to hurt, all right to feel such a thing and not need to find a way to heal it?"
She had to understand this as it could shed light on a whole new perspective. Though she had her own demons to fight, her own darkness that could mold her in to something wretched and pitiful, as compared to another life that was filled with control and power, this was a good thing to know. All her life that darkness had whispered and wrestled with her spirit. For a good while she had succumbed to the pain, the hurt, had given up. But now. . . now she was told it mattered not and that such a hurt needed no healing. That it could be embraced and used to better herself and no matter how it felt, no matter how broken she might be, there was a possibility that that was OK too.
Gah!
Why did the world have to be so confusing?
Why did SHE have to be so unsure on how she should act?
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Posted: Mon Mar 24, 2008 6:51 am
It appeared as if the little filly was actually listening to him and that pleased him a great deal. Perhaps she could be saved yet. He'd certainly hate the idea of a weakling in his bloodline but it wasn't like he had much say in it since it was his doing that started the bloodline to begin with, even if he hadn't meant to get that ebony mare pregnant back then. Hell, she wasn't even supposed to have lived through what he had done to her. So in a way, he felt like he was responsible somewhat to get this filly on the right track. It didn't appear as if Ezriel was going to do it, that's for sure.
"Every creature has a right to live. If they die, at my hooves or another, it means they did not really want to live. You have to fight for what you want. You have to fight tooth and hoof. Even if you're smaller, even if you think you're not strong enough, you have to fight, never give up. If you give up, you lose your right to live." The stallion stomped on before pausing briefly to let her catch up and answer her question.
"In many ways, I consider pain a good thing. If you can become used to it, you can build it up like a wall around yourself. Then when someone comes to hurt you, you don't even feel it. In a fight, you can last much longer. You can take a bigger beating than your opponent can. You become stronger in many ways. The downside is that it never stops hurting, but after awhile, you forget what not feeling pain is like." It was true. He could no longer remember a time when his body wasn't in constant pain.
"It's really up to you how you want to live your life. Even if it's some pansy life I wouldn't agree with, if you stuck by it with conviction, if you were to stomp your hooves and say "This is what I choose and damn anyone that tries to stop me", there'd be respect in that. No one, and I do meat absolutely NO ONE, should have the right to tell you how to live your life, except you. I ask that you consider what I have told you in making your decision, but whatever decision you make towards your life or even wanting to live, is made because it's what you want. Want bad enough that you'll fight for, even kill for, if necessary."
Reaper turned and started off walking again. He really needed to find Ezriel and give him a piece of his mind. Just because he was a piss poor father, it didn't mean Ezriel had to follow in his hoofprints. Hadn't Korrine and those damn unicorns raised him better than that? Hadn't that been part of why Ezriel had refused to join him? He was too blasted 'good' or some s**t? So why was he the one trying to toughen up Cassiel?
The two walked in silence for awhile until they neared the clearing which he was sure wasn't far from where Cassiel lived. "You can find your way home from here," he said gruffly before adding, "If you ever need anything though.. find me." It wasn't much of an invite but it was the best he could muster at the moment. He wasn't sure he liked being a grandfather, but he sure in the hell wouldn't half a** it, not on purpose anyway.
((Going to attempt to stop it soon, though you're welcome to reply if you want. Feel free to have Cassiel search out Reaper at any time when she's an adult, etc. XD ))
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