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 Posted: Thu Feb 28, 2008 2:56 pm
She had grown, that much was certain. Trudging through the dead, winter grasses the mare had hardly noticed such a transition save for the fact that the tall, twisting weeds tickled her stomach now instead of her shoulders and face. Ah, but the crimson and white furred mare thought little about her age and maturity aside from that small luxury. What did it matter?
What did anything seem to matter. . .
The confusion and uncertainty she'd felt as a foal had transformed in to something more bitter and vicious as an adult. Her shyness had suddenly transformed in to an avoidance of others, and the darkness that waged war with the inner light continued to rage. She had strayed far from her family, or at least far enough to pretend she had no place with them - for in all honesty she didn't. She'd forgiven her mother and Ezriel for their flaws. . . . but that didn't mean she felt any better now than she had back then. Rue was still the favorite. Ezriel still had nothing to do with herself and seemed to take no notice of her growth or age. He was too busy dealing with his own life to care about hers, where she had no place.
So what.
No matter what her uncle Dante had said, to not worry about appearances, it wasn't easy. Though she did love her grandfather Twilight, she understood he could never know her hurt, the pain, the darkness; he could not know a need that she sufferd from being with them, a longing for Ezriel and his family. . . for Not-So-Angel-Grandpa, Reaper. . . No, instead of fighting the darkness, lately she'd just accepted it.
She was no kalona, she was no murderer or killer, but she wore a veil of bitterness and cynicism; one that was cast aside only for those she cared about, the small, small few that there were. Life wasn't any less complicated with age, and she found her spirit was far from content. . . So she walked, her ebony hair falling foward to hide her gaze from the world. Black eyes looked cooly out upon the world, unseeing, uncaring.
Her heart and soul, twisted as it was, had never been truly worked out. Knots and kinks had grown with age, and such was her fate. She didn't need to be healed, but she did wish that she could find her place, her lot in the world and a meaning for herself. Outcast from one, but unable to fit nicely with the others, Casiel was in a strange position in life.
Ah. . . but c'est la vie.
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Posted: Thu Feb 28, 2008 3:12 pm
 Bitterness and loathing were things that he had grown very accustomed to since being dragged forth into a world that he had known to be cruel from the start. Raised and 'trained' by a 'father' like Plague there were no 'good days'. There was darkness, hatred and ugliness... So many ugly things in the world.
He snorted to himself as he stopped beside a stream, cloven hooves digging into the damp soil. Spring. Disgusting. It would be here soon, of course, and with it would come the happy twittering of birds and the arrivals of more foals. He could only hope that, somehow, his 'mother' and 'father' knew better than to try breeding again... After what had come about from the last batch?
His sister, the one that he knew beyond Torment, was a strange thing. She seemed neither here nor there; stupid, vacant and lost. There was something not right about here, just as there was something not right about Tarnish... Who was he kidding, there was something 'not right' about all of them. They were what they were and they could be no other?
Lies. He would be whatever the hell he wanted to be and nothing was going to stop him. Spreading his wings he gazed at his reflection in the babbling waters, grinning. "Why hello there."
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Posted: Thu Feb 28, 2008 3:37 pm
Cassiel paid little attention to her surroundings, but a soft breeze brought with it a scent of water; and when she pricked her ears she could hear the soft bubbling of a stream not far from where she walked. A thirst captured her, and every step brought her closer to the the waters edge. Head lowered, the cogs of her mind working, she barely acknowledged the scent of another not too far down. . .
Ah, but it hardly concerned her. What was on one soquili compared to another? As far as she was concerned if you had seen one, you'd seen them all; and she'd met Reaper first hand. The fallen angeni was perhaps the most impressive figure she'd ever seen, and none could truly compare. But as she was far from where her family dwelled and the scent was foreign, she had no reason to look up.
Until a voice broke through.
Raising her head, brows knit the ebony haired mare swished her tail at the scene before her; at first she thought the greeting was meant for her, but she quickly found out otherwise. Standing, gazing in to the water, she found a most unusual sight; a black stallion, with curly hair and what seemed to have been dipped in a pinkish-purple. Large, feathered wings quite unlike those that fell upon her grandfather swept out from his back, and a long horn sprouted from his forehead.
An impressive figure but she wasn't so impressed to be smitten with envy or delight or curiosity. No . . . Taint was but a stranger, a no one that meant little to her. Her shy, avoidant nature claimed she'd do well by moving on and quenching her thirst later. But . . . on the other other hoof, the water was here and it would be most convenient. Stepping up to the pool, she casat Taint one last look before whispering, "Making friends with the fish?" Who else might he be speaking to any way. . . unless he was crazy.
Inwardly flinching at the fact that she spoke out of turn (with luck he might not have heard - her curse on her vocal chords was often convenient for the mare) she turned her lips to the water and drank, albeit a bit self-consciously.
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Posted: Thu Feb 28, 2008 3:55 pm
The soft voice that touched his ears seemed little more than a brush of a gentle breeze. His brows lofted as he turned towards it, eyes settling on the mare who, at first glance, seemed to have a white coat bathed in blood. Such a strange sight and with the softness of her voice something told the back of his mind that she might not be real. How strange that an apparition would come like this... And yet he did not recall taking the life of one such as her ever before.
He kept his fangs hidden behind tight lips, playing one roll that he knew almost as well as any other. His soft pink feathers rustled as he pulled them back against his body, curls fluttering against his neck as he gave his head a light toss. His own beauty was one thing that he took pride in, knowing well that he had something in him of his mother to be proud of, if only the trace of her appearances.
"The fish?" His brow lofted slowly. "No, not the fish... The fish never stay around long enough to make proper friends."
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Posted: Thu Feb 28, 2008 4:19 pm
Cassiel paused in her drink as the black stallion responded to her inquiery, her ears twitching as she thought of a response. Lifting her head, ebony eyes glanced one more at the male, and for a long moment she said nothing. The way he tossed his hair, the curls bobbing around his neck and face, the way he stood; a shame for Taint Cassiel knew little in the world of beauty. She didn't dare think so highly of herself to judge another's appearance; on top of that, she understood ugliness could be found in more forms than just the physical. . . .
No, half of her family was judged because of spikes and blood and fallen feathers and searing black eyes. She wouldn't follow in the footsteps of many and assume, regardless of what Taint did. Hardly more than a moments diversion, the broken mare finally canted her head ever so slightly, expression transforming in to something sullenly inquisitive.
Fish as a friends, eh. . . . . ?
Her black tail swished behind her, as if swatting away some invisible phantom before she continued, voice as soft as ever."I . . . suppose they wouldn't recollect such friendship even if they weren't so scarce." And that was the truth, was it not?
Glancing back at the water, peering at her own reflection, she gave a little shake of her head. She almost pressed her earlier question, curious as to whom he'd been speaking to, but gave up on it just as soon as the words formed at her lips. No. . . . no use to plague him with idle conversation; besides, what concern of hers was it whom he spoke to? If he wanted to talk to himself or his imaginary friends than so be it. She had no right or no place, an quite frankly, plum didn't give a damn at this point.
Eyes blazing black, she resumed her drink.
((This may be the shortest RP in the world, sorry. D: She's apathetically emo. ))
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Posted: Thu Feb 28, 2008 4:53 pm
"They probably wouldn't." He glanced at the mare, not certain if he should be amused by her indifferent to everything or not. She certainly was odd, this one was... Then again, he really didn't have much room to judge either.
He should just leave her here to her strange silence. Should, but decided against it for some reason. Instead he paused to watch her, speaking up after a moment. "Are you always this quiet?" His brow lofted as he eyed her. "Most of the mares that I know wouldn't shut up if you offered them a bushel of apples to do so... And yet here I find one, or one finds me, that is soft spoken and silent like a spirit waiting to possess someone. Is that what you are here to do? Do you weave enchantments, little one?" A slight smirk curved his muzzle, the glistening trace of fangs showing just in the corners.
(( It's okay. XD; ))
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Posted: Thu Feb 28, 2008 5:22 pm
Cassiel was surprised - very surprised - that the winged one chose to continue to speak. She took her time finishing her drink, fully quenching her thirst, while she listened to his words. For a moment, part of the mare was confused by such interaction - didn't he know who she was? Oh, all right, so they were strangers; of course he wouldn't know! But part of the mare had come to believe that she was the root of all things blaspheme, that she radiated distance from everyone and everything. In a way, she understood that her inner darkness was a turn off to many. . . . But the mare kind of liked it that way.
The less she had to deal with, the better. She didn't like to fail in others good graces and opinion; and knowing her, there was very little good left. There was no evil, just a void, a bitterness that was unwavering. Nothing important, that's what she was, and seemed to always be. So odd that now, another, might bother to continue the conversation after she had so blatantly stopped.
Ah, but she wasn't rude. Eponine had taught her manners, and a small, small sliver of her desperately wanted to talk. To communicate. To pretend to be normal for just a few minutes. . . . Well, as normal as she and her family and blood line could be. Turning to face him, expression solemn she quirked a delicate brow, her black eyes taking in the pink and black one before her. "I'm no most mares." She started, though there was a flicker of a smile that crossed her expression; faint and ghostlike and seemingly ill placed.
If she noticed the trace of fangs, she said nothing or reacted no way. She wasn't afraid of the dark, of different, or of death. If anything, it was life that caused her pain and anxiety, that caused her and loathing. . . Continuing, her voice never above a whisper, she added,"And as for enchantments, I'm afraid you're quite mistaken. There is no such magic here, and I doubt I'd dabble in such things even if I could. I have no desire to . . . . . enchant." Her nostrils flared, so typical of her father, and she couldn't help but think how damn-tastically foolish his words had been.
She was no enchantress, nor did she want to be. Let others mares, with their beauty and grace and chattering natures lure others to them. Cassiel was no such mare. She kept to herself, she spoke little and did her best not to draw attention to herself. Like a ghost, she drifted, but for what purpose she knew not. Not to haunt, not to terrorize like Reaper, not to hunt or kill. Just to . . . drift, to wait and to see.
This one was far too generous to think so highly of her talent. In all reality, she had none and that was that.
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Posted: Thu Feb 28, 2008 5:39 pm
He wasn't one to pay much to the 'darkness' in others. It wasn't something that he tended to take all that seriously unless there was a way to manipulate it and bend it to his own whim, or a whim that would some how suit him or his needs. Perhaps he did not see this mare for what she was... Looks were deceiving, after all. He was proof of that.
"Not most mares, not ghost... What, pray tell, are you then?" His smirk continued to linger on his muzzle, voice holding traces of laughter that he was determined to hold back for the moment, tail flickering behind him with amusement. "With a voice as soft as yours... Do you whisper to others as they walk through the woods, leading them off of their safe paths? I have heard stories of mares like that, you know..." He was certain that if they had any sense his sisters could have been mares like that... Good thing they were stupid.
"What sort of desires do you have, if not to enchant? Surely there must be something." His eyes darkened slightly as he thought momentarily of his own desires. Blood. He would have to have some soon as much as he detested the mess it made. Hunger would start to gnaw at his insides if he didn't... The hunt, such a foolish thing when one could be playing far more interesting games. "Who are you?"
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Posted: Thu Feb 28, 2008 6:08 pm
Cassiel listened to the dark coated stallion before her, expression falling in to a neautrality as she listened to his words. His silly smirk upon his lips, his amusement. . . . Hmph. Her ebony gaze darkened (if it were possibly) and she gave a small shake of her head. Her ghost of a smile died a short-lived death and her expression returned to it's typical cool look.
What was she then, if no ghost nor a typical mare? Snorting softly, the blood red mare gave a small shake of her head. So, this was how things were going to be then, was it? Well - two could play such a game. . . She wasn't completely immune and if entertainment was what he wished, if he desired interrogating her, than she'd give him the exact same treatment. "What would you wish me be, sir? Right now it appears I'm your entertainment. . . . Have you any other request or shall this suffice?
Canting her head, somewhat delicately, she gave a soft snort of dismissal to his next question.
Desires? Hmph. She wasn't that sort of mare either. . . . Oh no. "I have no desires, thank you; I take what I get, and keep it at that. If such an answer displeases you, then by all means, create an answer yourself. As to the who. . . I'm Cassiel. But now, shadow sir, who are you? Are you a silent enchanter or am I being graced by the presence of another profession? Pray tell. . . what are your desires since such a topic seems to cause you such intrigue. . . "
The mare waited, patient, and not entirely apathetic. She was curious about this one, especially with his obvious differences compared to the vast majority of soquili around the world. The fact he took a moment to speak to her caused her interest. . . and pity. What sort looked to her for conversation and what would become of it?
Absolutely nothing, she knew, but Cassiel wasn't made of ice. His companionship, no matter how temporary, was at least entertaining to her as well as him. And if she could entertain. . . than so be it. At least she wasn't just a walking husk of flesh and blood like some. In fact, she could shine if she wanted, but that would be reserved for another day, another meeting, another chance. She needed none of that now. . . . Sparklies were for other girls, which she had already stated, she was not.
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Posted: Thu Feb 28, 2008 6:28 pm
"I would wish you to be no more and no less than you are. That is all we are capable of being, is it not?" His brow lofted slightly as he eyed her, pale pink eyes gleaming with dark delight. It wasn't often that he got a chance to play with words... Not often at all when so many preferred to battle with strength. No, wit was much more interesting... More powerful and more harming. Words could damage the mind, not just the body.
"Desires make fools of those who give in to them too often." He said simply, believing that in full. It had, after all, rang true for his parents; two supposedly strong beings brought down by the fruits of their desires. "Taint. That is my name as much as it is what I am. At the moment I desire amusement and it seems as if I am getting that. Are you not as well, mare? Cassiel?"
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Posted: Thu Feb 28, 2008 6:51 pm
Again, Cassiel listened to the stranger before her, black gaze focused mildly upon him. No more and no less than she was, was it? Hmph. Somehow she doubted that his words rang true, but she wasn't about to argue or assume. She was what she was, and if such a thing was unappealing or offensive to the stallion she was sure he would hold no reservations about leaving, and abandoning her to her own devices. It wasn't likely she'd object either. . . .
As it was, she said nothing in response to his first words. If that was what he believed so be it; Cassiel wasn't one to judge ones potential and capability, oh no. But if Taint hoped to damage her mind, he would find it already shattered and in pieces; in fact, there was very little room for it to be more tattered than it already was. Still, who knew - he might get lucky.
"Taint,"She acknowledged lightly, somewhat intrigued by the name. It reminded her somewhat of Reaper, of his name and the fear it often projected. Taint though. . . . . Was he not strong enough to corrupt fully? Could he only transform minimally so that it was merely tainted? Some might not find such pride in a definition, but Cassiel wasn't about to question or find herself concerned. If he were attempting to scare her, he had a long way to go. "A . . pleasure." And it was. Sort of. Kind of. If Cassiel could find pleasure in much of anything lately. No, it wasn't truly a good thing, but it was something. . . and that was enough for her.
Shifting from where she stood, glancing away from the winged one before her, Cassiel gave a gentle snort at this concern over her entertainment of the situation. Pawing lightly at the ground, she flicked her tail before casting her ebony gaze back upon him. "If you find our meeting so entertaining, sir, than I fear you've lived quite a sad life indeed. I find no amusement in our conversation, though to be entertained is not something I require nor seek. Such a thing is left for the same, desiring fools we previous discussed." And so it was. She could understand laughter, could understand humor and could even fathom the allure of entertainment. . . . but what good did it do in the long run? It distracted one from their present course, it . . . was nothing but an excuse, a delay, an escape.
Cassiel had long since given up on any such freedom. No. Such a life was not meant for her.
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Posted: Sun Mar 16, 2008 1:11 pm
"Is it really a pleasure or are you just saying that?" He smirked as he eyed the mare for a moment. Those finding himself in his company had never called it a 'pleasure' before... At least, not without drowning it in a thick coating of sarcasm. "It isn't nice to tell stories of that nature, you know. You might find yourself falsely inflating the hopes of others... If they have any hopes to be had."
He couldn't help but smirk as he continued to listen to her little speech. "Perhaps I have... Or perhaps I simply take amusement in things that others do not. I do not require or seek entertainment as much as I appreciate amusement when and where it is offered for my taking. Do you not enjoy conversations from time to time, little Cassiel? As strange or as odd as they may be?"
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Posted: Tue Mar 18, 2008 1:03 am
Cassiel blinked, her ebony gaze lingering on the pink winged male beside her. She hesitated a moment before giving a small snort and turning to look back at their reflections with in the water. Though she could be sarcastic and often was, when it came to her response to the stranger beside her she had to be a hint of honest. Snorting lightly, she shrugged and swished her ebony tail, added softly, "It's a pleasure enough." And it was. Wasn't it? Might not say much about her social life but all was well. . . Her eyes narrowed slightly at the rest of his speech, before she gave a little shake of her head in disdain. Her? Inflating hope in to another? What poppycock and rubbish did he speak!
Cassiel wasn't the inspiring kind; nor was she the ego-inflating type either. She wasn't the sort of mare to swoon and dream over the shoulders of stallion. She wasn't the sort to waste away her life with petty wishes of realities that just plain didn't exist. . . happy endings? Every lasting love? No - she wasn't that sort of mare. "If a stray comment such as we speak leads to some semblance of hope. . .well. . . does it look like a I give a damn for such misconception?" A shame if her countenance was remarked upon as appearing caring, receptive and affectionate. . . .
She was FAR from being her mother.
Why on earth had she bothered commenting this afternoon. She should have realized that conversation of some form or another would ensue. Ears turned and focused only upon Taint, she pawed lightly upon the ground as she listened. Well, Taint didn't look like the typical soquili she so often met, but then again, her own family was as crazy as the best of them. One half pure, the other half skewed, it left her a little bit of interesting. . . Little Cassiel? Little!? She wasn't little. . . . not. . . . well. . . not THAT small. "Do I look like I enjoy much of anything?" It was a perfectly valid question, but without waiting for a response, she continued, "But I have already proven I can and will converse with little complaint. But whether or not such a thing is enjoyable one might require a stretch of imagination." And that was that.
She didn't mind conversing, but it wasn't something the mare often did. There weren't many worth her time, nor any that she felt like opportunistically plaguing said strangers. Cassiel was well aware of her place in the world, and thus took an avoidant stance on many a thing.
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Posted: Wed Mar 26, 2008 10:12 am
"It isn't often that others find 'pleasure' of any sort in my company, Cassiel... And when they do it is usually of some twisted sort." He smirked, watching her with pale eyes as she continued to speak. "Blunt and honest. Admirable in its own way." He almost laughed. Almost.
... And then he did laugh, taking a step back while stretching his wings, letting a bit of light hit the fangs that just barely peeked out from behind black lips. "Looks, I have found, can be very deceiving. What one looks like is rarely who or what they are. If we based everything on looks I would be frolicking through fields with flowers braided into my mane." He snorted, shaking his head. Mares.
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Posted: Wed Apr 23, 2008 11:02 pm
((I fail. ._. Excuse the belatedness. ))
Cassiel listened to the pink-winged stranger beside her. Whoever he was, she feared him not, even with the sight of fangs. Oh, whatever monster or beast he was, whatever harm he might wish her, Cassiel plum didn't have the energy to care. Not only that, but she just didn't CARE enough to be concerned about the soquili she met. If death or torment were to be her fate, than so be it. Such was the way of things. . .
Ebony tail swished behind her as she turned her gaze back down in to the water. Her reflection, rippled within the water, looked as broken as she felt. She didn't try to be beautiful, didn't try to impress with looks. Her personality was shot to hell, she understood; she had failed her grandfather, failed her father, her mother, failed everyone.
Such was her lot in life, or so it seemed. Smirking lightly, a hair bitterly, the ebony eyed mare snorted. "Then perhaps I'm of the twisted definition. To each his own."
At his laugh, Cassiel started slightly, twisting her gaze to better focus upon him. Her black eyes narrowed, and she herself stepped away from the stream, watching the fanged male mock her comment. Whatever. . . She didn't much care, but she didn't find his teasing amusing. Canting her head, she couldn't help herself. She had to comment. "I suppose that might be true. . .Braids, perhaps, but frolicking? Come now - you're not that beautiful." He was odd, with the horn, and the feathered wings of pink. But if his personality was based upon his looks. . . .
No. She just couldn't see it.
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