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 Posted: Sun Aug 10, 2008 4:59 am
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Posted: Sun Aug 10, 2008 5:16 am
Mulling over his thoughts, Havoc alighted on the rocky edge of a rather short cliff, overlooking the Soquili Lands. Since parting ways with his siblings, he had had a considerable amount of time to grow and to change, to temper himself into almost a new creature entirely. His encounter with his father had influenced that to a great extent, altering some of his beliefs regarding the mutant and his Kalona mother. It had hardened him, strengthened him, and he did not intend to disappoint. He had never been truly weak, no. Diabetia had spent far too much time training himself and his siblings for him to ever have been nearly as pathetic as the soft, malleable creatures that he often saw roaming the plains.
That did not, however, mean that he was finished in his transformation from mama's boy to whatever might come with this new sense of self. Like a butterfly with its wings wet, he was still going through various stages in his life, building on foundations that had been set in place long before he had been born. In many ways, it was hard to fight his base nature, to combat all of the conditioning his mother had given her three middle children in the hopes that they would avenge her. And, by some extension, become like her. He was proud of his ties to his mother, and what they represented, proud that he could embody the grace that he felt that she owned, but something stirred within him. Something begged to be explored, something demanded his attention.
Now, without the presence of either parent, he was free to make his own decision on what and who he was and would be. Unfortunately, he was wavering on the issue, uncertain which side to fall on, if any. Did he want to most resemble his father? Powerful, cruel, wicked to the core? Dark and tainted? Or did he want to resemble his mother most of all? Beautiful, exhibiting a sweetness in form that was so close to literal that it could all but be tasted, and wicked in her own way? Both struck him as intelligent. Both struck him as possessing some amount of cunning, some craftiness, or they would never have been able to cross each other so thoroughly. It was a damnably difficult question, one which he intended to pursue to its inevitable end. Perhaps he would even find an answer. Perhaps, more elusive still, he might discover another being entirely within him. Perhaps.
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Posted: Sun Aug 10, 2008 6:57 am
Resting amidst the shadows casted on the lower plane by the smaller cliff was something the figure that would stand so still and solid on the precipice may have found some semblance of familiarity with. There was no mistaking the larger-than-normal form of the bright-coated mare, black regions infiltrating her coat and beauty; the trio of horns rested menacingly atop hair that seemed to want to be naturally curly, yet something was hindering it from being so, and the center, differentiated horn gave the telltale striped sign of its sweet yet sinister origin. The traits she identified with in her mother she adored and prided in, but it would be mild to say that vestiges of the father were left unappreciated.
This member of the family found herself to be distraught at the father's influence, and perhaps it was because of his forced arrogance running through her blood that troubled the mare, after having shown signs of the behavior that inevitably led to misfortune on her behalf. After many days of solitude (aside from the occasional prey that held a degree of intelligence and tongue to speak back to the half-kalona mutant once it got past its initial fright), she was unable to deem herself fit for any type of vengeance--whether it was the one presented by her mother to her brood since birth, or her personal vendetta with a certain male who was somehow able to literally slip past both her offensive maneuvers and defenses despite her mother's training. She was once a mare so sure of her skills--she'd have even claimed that she turned out to be the best of her other fraternal siblings. Now, anger and resentment impounded within her, and anything that crossed her path recently discovered a more vicious creature than what they could have found had they stumbled upon the same mare earlier, before succumbing to her violent wrath.
She knew she couldn't keep up with the blind rage, yet she knew she could not confront her nemesis until she was better abled... but how would that be achieved? A vision of light came with the entrance of another peculiar male she chanced upon not quite so long ago, taunting her from the darkness. It raised a thought to seek wisdom from something more... experienced; something that delved deeper in the darker, artful ways of brutality. But pride gets in the way of many things, and this sibling, out of six, would not subject herself to begging to become an underling of a greater force.
It was too bothersome to feign knowledge, should another time come in which she wasn't able to fight her way out, and at the same time, her youthful days of being taught the basic ways of dealing with prey were over, and her main educator couldn't possibly have more wisdom to bestow. This truth sickened the mare, yet she knew she had to accept her position, or be doomed for a pitiful existence, unworthy of the supposed strong bloodline that ran through her.
However, before she could ponder any longer, a faint scent from the breeze caught her attention, and interrupted her train of thought. It reminded her of days running alongside a barely tolerable colt, whose oversized wings she oft enjoyed threatening to break. The disgusting odor seemed to have heightened in strength since she last remembered, and she immediately turned her neck to stare at a darkened figure overhead. Her black eyes focused, and recognized the ugly clash of almost-black with dark pink wings and girly hair standing stupidly on the cliff, that even a small vulture could have wafted by at any time to gouge his vacant eyes out.
She almost bordered on calling it a disturbing daydream, but the familiar smell proved to be all too unbearable and realistic for the sister, and she called out above, "Well, Havoc, you're as intimidating as always."
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Posted: Wed Aug 13, 2008 8:41 pm
A familiar, lovingly loathed voice. "Dismay. What a... pleasure." The words tasted slightly bitter on his tongue. Flaring his wings, Havoc took off, gliding down to land near (but out of reach from) his sister. There was no love lost between them. There never had been. In fact, the stallion could not think of a one of his siblings for whom he was fond. Come to think of it, did he have much of a fondness for anyone? Perhaps, in a very twisted way, his parents. That was doubtful.
((Gaaah, saving so it doesn't diee when I reboot. There will be more. Lots more.))
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