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 Posted: Tue May 13, 2008 8:54 am
The young mare stepped her way to the banks of the stream, head lowered and ebony eyes focused only on the ground before her. Cassiel was lost in thought as she picked her way through the marshlands, which of course was no new surprise. With a lack of social life, and a refusal to see her family, the young mare was left to her own device. She wasn't the most social, she could easily be labeled a defeatist, and she tried her best to walk through life as a wraith or a shadow. . . .
She was insignificant to the world and such was her place.
Step by step, the mare trudged through the muddier banks. She looked quite the sight, a bit disheveled, uncaring of her appearance for the most part. In reality, there was very little she cared about, and those that she did was hard an admittance for the mare. As the saying went, when one didn't care about oneself, it was difficult to truly care about others. And wasn't that the truth with Cassiel . . .
Back and forth she waged war on her heart and spirit. Unlike her father, whose inner darkness caused him to feel anger, bitter and vengeful; whose fire caused him to tend towards violence and hate Cassiel's darkness was much more subdued. Instead of hating the world, she merely hated herself, and had difficulty shedding such an exterior.
She wanted to be strong like Reaper, like Ezriel, but could hardly give herself much of a chance. She wasn't kind and soft like her mother or Twilight, either, but she was no killer. . . or so she didn't believe. Endless frustration followed her, and there seemed to be no easy answer. . . She had no place, she had no dreams, no goals, there was very little good within her world. There was no direction, just a living shell who was sinking deeper and deeper in to the void of her heart and mind. . . .
She wasn't crazy. Yet. But the young mare wasn't exactly in her right mind either.
Stepping up to the shore, all but oblivious to her surroundings, she stared down in her reflection. She saw nothing. . . nothing at all. . . just a splash of colour and black eyes. Ears pinning back against her head, she closed her gaze and began to drink.
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Posted: Tue Jun 17, 2008 10:08 pm
 ((Wow, and I bet you thought I'd never get around to replying!)) She moved carefully through the marshes, hunting for something... though what she couldn't tell. Something had called her to this place, today, and she rested her weight against one of the few large trees that dotted the marshlands. It had not been long since she had been forced to confront her demons, and the mare was still a bit off-kilter. Loneliness, however, was something she'd been trying to avoid. Stay busy, busy, busy, and let herself heal with others around her. Odile hadn't had much of a chance to grow up, as it were. All her life, when she had been among the angeni, she'd been told how she should behave. To her it had made sense- everyone else acted the same way. Her personal delight was in being wicked, and playing harmless jokes on people. That had all changed, however, the day her sister died. Everything she had been, everything she could have been, she locked it all away, not to come back. She'd never expected to be freed from her burden of self-imposed penance. Still, she had been. To Odile, Angel was a savior; a mother figure that Odile desperately needed to tell her... it was okay. She had thrown open the self-imposed doors that the young woman had locked herself behind, and opened options back up top Odile she'd never known she had before. So here she was, stretching the limits of herself. What need had called her here today, she couldn't tell. She'd woken up this morning, stretched herself, and felt compelled to start moving in this direction. So she had. Now, Odile glanced around the marsh, trying to see if she could tell what had brought her here. A flash of color in one direction had her narrowing her eyes and peeking. Was that another of her kind?
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Posted: Mon Jun 30, 2008 11:15 am
Cassiel finished her drink, opening her ebony gaze to stare down at her reflection. Just as she'd stared at it before her drink the same nothingness that overwhelmed her was fast to follow. The eyes of her wretched father and his line stared, while her crimson coat reminded her of her differences. Not an ounce of blue on her to prove she was related to Eponine and her family line . . . and yet no wings or spikes or colours to stay she followed her father either.
Good? Evil? Bah, if anything Cassiel understood pathetic was perhaps the best choice of words. From the moment she dragged herself out of the wicker basket and stared up at the forms of her parents, Cassiel understood her place had been that as a mistake.
Age had only driven home the point; her father left and took the one soquili who might understand her away, her brother Rue. Eponine had tried to raise her well but the damage had already been done. And no matter how hard she tried to find her niche something or someone reminded her of her place. Or lack thereof.
Bitterness was found active in her soul and heart; it was an emotion she couldn't shake, one that was shackled to her like chains. She had tried everything in her power to be rid of her feelings but that inner darkness did nothing more than dig deeper in to her spirit. Full grown and on her own, Cassiel did her best to cut out any and everyone present in her life; she had abandoned her dearest friend, Tobias, and his mother as a filly . . for his safety. She had left her mother, never saw her father, and had made no friends since.
Friends were dangerous things to have, to keep, to allow; she couldn't cause them any more pain and thus she avoided making such connections. An ear twitched, the sound of movement amongst the tall grasses of the marsh. Cassiel didn't bother to turn to see, to look; no. . . if this were some predator perhaps it would strike her now, with her back turned.
Ah, but she could only be so lucky.
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Posted: Mon Jun 30, 2008 12:26 pm
Fortunately for the mare in front of her, Odile was no hunter. The other female's lack of reaction quite astounded her; but then, who was she to talk? She stepped forward, a short distance away from the mare and lowered her head to lap at the water. The air around this mare, the water that Odile shared with her, it was all tinted with the scent of this female's sorrow. But why?
She lifted her dark muzzle from the water, glanced over at the female. Blood, her coat awash with the shade of death... Odile fought back the ingrained rush of fear at the color, and fought to regain control. It was something Rothbart had taught her- the fear of blood, fear of pain. And it was something Angel had finally drilled through her, after countless others telling her the same- she didn't have to take it from him.
She stepped forward cautiously, hesitantly, moving towards the mare. "Are you alright?" It was a rather redundant start to the conversation, to be sure, but sometimes it was the best question to ask.
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Posted: Sat Jul 05, 2008 7:56 am
Another had come to drink but Cassiel paid the soquili no heed. She knew now who stepped softly beside her and she honestly didn't care. As she lapped up the cool liquid, the mare allowed her tail to swish back and forth lazily, the tip stained and dragging against the ground. The motion was hypnotic, and perhaps one of the only signs that proved the mare wasn't made of stone.
Everything would have been find had Odile stayed away. Cassiel would have finished her drink, she would have stepped away and continued on her aimless and pointless walk. She would have gone elsewhere and left the mare alone, would have bothered her not and all would be well. But fate wasn't that easy, was it? Life didn't like to make simple Cassiel's wishes, and much preferred to cause her heart pain by forcing her to interact.
Such scum as she had enough manners to not blatantly ignore another regardless of her desires. And such desire stemmed not out of hate or fear for the other but out of pity for their souls. Here they were, now stuck talking with her and such a fate was more cruel than torture. But no one seemed to understand that . . . no one seemed to know until it was too late and they were too deep in to the conversation.
Closing her eyes, almost wincing, Cassiel slowly lifted her head from the pool and turned to gaze upon the stranger. Odile was quite the sight with her silver and ebony. She was perhaps the loveliest mare she'd laid eyes upon, and by far the most stunning. She held multiple-sets of wings just as that black and spider-laden soquili had. . . . But this one could most obviously see.
She was like him, she was, and the mare wondered exactly why the world was falling full of such creatures. And why they seemed to haunt her. Still, any surprise or admiration of her beauty was locked away and hidden. Just as she looked upon the cruelest of soquili, the darkest of mysteries like Kerrigan and Reaper, she looked upon Odile with the same eyes. Her darkness didn't allow for light, for surprise, for concern. Instead she just stared, the shadows of her heart ever consuming.
Was she all right? What sort of question was that? Hell. Nostrils flaring slightly the young crimson and white stained mare gave a small twitch of her tail. Her words came out, an eternal whisper, slight and hardly audible. "I am alive. Therefor I must be fine."
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