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 Posted: Wed Feb 03, 2016 2:45 pm
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Posted: Wed Feb 03, 2016 2:46 pm
Life had a funny little way of showing you how strong you were. Life had a funny little way of making you think twice. Was life really....worth it?
Disaster after disaster; heartache after heartbreak, and there was still no end in sight. You could do everything right, and still life threw that treacherous curve-ball. When could it end - when will it end? There was no hope, not anymore, not after so many tears and sleepless nights. Where had she gone wrong, and what did she do to deserve it? So many unanswerable questions, and no one to help her, not anymore. She sighed, the life that was once hers to enjoy no longer enjoyable; the life that was once hers to live, no longer livable. Where had they gone wrong, the pair of them, so content....so excited to become parents? Was it karma, because he had been a violent creature during his lifetime? Or was it simply rotten luck, given the bad end of the child-spectrum, and therefore, tragedy? She dared not blame anyone but herself, for she alone had failed. She alone was the reason he was dead, and she alone was the reason her daughter, and her sons, were murderers.
She didn't blame Giorgia, her daughter, for stealing two of her sons while still in infancy, because she hadn't given Gigi the foalhood she deserved. Blessita was too focused on he fact that Umo, her beloved, was missing, and was in a constant state of depression. She didn't blame Giorgia for taking those colts from her, for she knew, deep down, she did it out of jealousy. But why just two, and not all three? Blessita spent many months, and years, trying to figure out why - but couldn't. She had given Alessio a chance at happiness, and he was given it. But Ahmri, and Abraxas - both stolen, both raised to be killers alongside their crazed sister. It was heartbreaking to think about it, even now.
If only Blessita had been a better mother. If only she had given Giorgia that happiness - if only she looked out for her child more than the mate she so longed to see again, then maybe Umo would still be alive. He had told her once, after he returned & she was pregnant with their boys, that Giorgia wasn't her true child; a child born from a desperate wish for happiness, and that was why Gigi never quite fit in. Did she believe that? No. Of course not, but her boys, they were her prized possession. When she found out she was pregnant, after trying for so many years, she was elated; they both were. Those boys meant the world to the two brand new parents, and then, they were split. It was the first of many knockdowns that Blessita had faced in her life, and she didn't know how to stop the pain. Not anymore.
When Umo died, after Ahmri and Abraxas went after him, Blessita couldn't do anything. She froze on the spot, staring at the horrible massacre as it was happening, screaming noises - or so it sounded. She hadn't seen her boys in a long time, but it shocked her that they would do this. Giorgia had raised them to think this way, hadn't she? Oh, Blessita knew, as she was screaming, that this was all her fault.
And now, years later, she still thought so. Gigi was gone, off someplace and she didn't know where, Abraxas was depressed over what he had done, Alessio confused and conflicted, and Ahmri, gone. Then Umo, her beloved Umo, had been reduced to nothing as she watched him take his last breath. She was now alone in this world - utterly, completely alone. And there was nothing left of her to pick up. Why couldn't she had died that night, as well? Why had they spared her?
Blessita stood near a riverbank, staring down into the frozen river. She could see nothing but white - no color, no happiness that came with Spring and new life, and it was quite fitting, she mused, to her current condition. There was no hope for her, not after what had happened, no matter how many months or years had gone by. She was...alone.
What was once a happy life was no more. "Oh, Umo...," she whispered, a tear falling down her cheek. What would he say to her, if he could? Would he be disappointed in her inability to move forward?
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Posted: Sat Feb 06, 2016 6:35 am
Crea Tion was over this. The cold, the dreary lighting, the ice. He pawed at the river, wishing it was flowing once more. It was most certainly not beautiful, no matter what some might say. Sure, the snow, the ice, the frosted trees and blades of grass, it had a charm. But he was still so over this. Once... once he had been lost, and this darkness, the cold, was comforting in a way. It had served at the most perfect of backdrops for his "blue" period.
But now...
Now things were looking up, in a strange way. He had made friends... a thing he had truly never had before. Candy had been all in his world. His sun, his light, his muse. His children were gone.... off to unknown lands, unknown adventures. He hoped they were well, that they were happy, loved, and fostered him no ill will. He knew... well... that he had never been a good father. He had not prepared his children for life alone, and only hoped they took more after their mother. He had been but a child himself, not in age, but undoubtedly in mind. Crea had had to grow up these past years alone, without Candy to care for and guide him. To be honest, he disliked it. His world had been much simpler before. The sun rose, he painted, the sun set, he slept. This world was far more complicated, far uglier then he had anticipated. And his true... inept-ness was more and more apparent as he moved on. How the world worked, how to meet and interact with others... Friends. These things had eluded him for so long. He often feared, late at night when not even the crickets chirped, if he was defective somehow. His creativity doing something to destroy the social part of his personality. Perhaps he was dropped on his head as a foal. He did not remember his foalhood, if he thought about it. But then, perhaps he had only just grown out of it after he was truly on his own.
But friends... yes he had made friends. Just flashes of color in this bleak world he found himself in. He turned his head, looking for the dark blur of Rora, his newest little feline friend. A smile found a way to his face as he thought of the energetic little fuzzball. She was bringing him farther out of himself, giving him a reason to see more colors. His eyes turned back to the frozen river and he let out an uncharacteristically annoyed snort and kicked at the ice once more.
This was a poor miscalculation however. The flutter winged stallion was very much a product of his breeding and was very small in stature, as one might expect. In fact, he often kept himself in a shrunken state to allow for ease moving here and there among the grasses and flowers. And as usual, he was in such a state now, shrunk down to the tiniest of stallions. As he kicked, however, the slippery ice threw him off balance and soon he was skidding down the river, spinning out of control.
The smooth ice took him along for a wild ride, but that came to a sudden end, smashing end first into a rather small rock peaking out of the river. The shock, however, threw him off and unable to concentrate, he reverted to his larger, though still smaller then average, form.
He blinked, looking up to the sky, blinded for a moment. "Well that.... was unexpected..." he muttered as he tried to gain his bearings.
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Posted: Mon Feb 15, 2016 8:44 pm
Normally she saw the beauty in everything; normally everything had a purpose, and life was grand - even the snow, even the cold! Although a tad bit more partial to warm and happy weather, the mare could still see the beauty in winter. Normally. Now, as she looked down again at the ice that stared back up at her, she saw only just that - ice. Nothing about it spoke to her; nothing about it made her smile.
Smiling was a foreign concept now, it seemed. Or when she did, she didn't quite mean it. Could it be possible to feel happiness again, after so much pain? It didn't seem like it, that was for sure. The mare sighed, unsure of what her next move was. She could wander the earth for the rest of her life, without a goal in sight, if she really wanted to - nothing else seemed to matter.
Blessita wondered briefly, what had become of her buffalo friend - Decan. She hadn't seem him since Umo first disappeared, and that was years before any of the...bad things happened. When the depression first hit, when Giorgia was still a foal, she had let Decan go off on his own; she wanted him to become his own self, and explore all that life had to offer - she didn't want to hold him back. And being the loyal guy that he was, he agreed. That was the last she saw of him, sadly, and now....after all the loss she went through, she felt his absence stab another hole in her heart. If she hadn't let him go - if he had been there, would he have been able to stop the boys from the murder? Surely she wouldn't let him, however strong and powerful he may be - surely she wouldn't have let him kill her sons....so then what? He'd die too, wouldn't he? Decan was loyal, and if she said no, he wouldn't have attacked.
...Everything around her died, she realized, or disappeared in some way. Everything she ever loved was...gone. And she hadn't even done anything to anyone to deserve it - or, well, she didn't, but she told herself she must have. Who could live like this? She couldn't, but....she had to. She owned it to him, and she owed it to her father.
Her father. He didn't know, did he? They hadn't spoken in a while and the last was well, while she was still pregnant. How could she explain such a situation to such a simple stallion? Oh dear! A frown found it's way onto her face as she sighed again; life was just.....not working for her at the moment. Nothing was looking up.
And then....
Noises came from her left, and she gasped, responding immediately to whatever it was she heard, out of habit alone. "I'w say! Wowwie! Ya awright, sir? Ah' didn' see ya there, whered'ya come from?", Blessita stammered loudly, blinking rapidly as she stared at the colorful stallion who literally changed shape and size before her very eyes. He was enough to snap her right out of her thoughts, and she couldn't quite remember where she was for a moment, and her head snapped back and forth between the water & the trees, before settling back at the stallion. Oh my goodness! Had he not seen her, as he was crashing toward the rock? Oh! She certainly hadn't seemed him, but given his original size, that was no surprise. The impact of his body against the small rock sounded rather strange, but it wasn't until he reverted back to normal did her mind register what she just saw. And boy - what a dozy!!
Was this guy a Soquili? How could he do such a thing? Eyes twinkling, she continued to stare, not saying a word until he spoke again, careful not to scare him away.
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Posted: Fri Feb 19, 2016 4:31 am
He must have hit his head harder then he thought! Hearing voices, that was a new one... He had seen voices, sure. And colors. Stars, things that were likely not actually there before...
But hearing voices as a new one.He wasn't particularly auditory so hearing anything other then things that actually existed was most certainly reason to be concerned. Perhaps, however, this would bring some creativity back... Maybe a good knock on the head was all he needed to get out of his funk. He shook his head a bit and sat up, looking around to gain his baring. His legs ached from the awkward way he was sitting, but he wasn't sure if his legs would hold his weight on the ice just yet. If only he could find some sort of branch or root to pull himself out of the river.
Crea's eyes locked on the brown mare ahead of him. That... would be the source of the voice, he figured. He blinked and then broke into a wide smile, his paint wings flickering and flowing, colors flashing.
"Why hello!" He called out, much louder then intended. "oops" He lowered his voice. "Sorry, volume control." A laugh followed. Ok, so he wasn't hearing voices... but perhaps he still hit his head a little to hard.
"Good..." he glanced around, trying to gauge time. "Day..." he finished, settling for a less specific greeting. "Sorry if I startled you. Slippery ice and all that." He offered another smile. Carefully he started to pull himself towards the shore, keeping his rear on the ice, pulling with his front legs. His back legs were less... solid then he'd have liked, and didn't know with the hit if he could keep himself standing on them just yet.
"Ah, yes!" He paused, remembering that she had to have been the one to speak, and therefore had to have been the one to ask those questions. "Sorry again, manners. My muse used to say I had very few of those..." his tone dropped into sadness but he shook his head quickly, banishing it. It would do no good to sink down that road while just meeting someone new for the first time. There was no reason to ruin a perfectly good budding friendship, for every new encounter was a friendship's start, over some broody... sadness. There would be time for that later.
"I am just fine, thank you for your concern! Just a little slip fall. Nothing broken, I hope." a smaller laugh left Crea this time. "I came.... well..." he turned his head and nosed in the direction. "from somewhere that way. Up river, or perhaps down, I never keep track. Just passing by is all, but well... As I said, Ice is very slippery. You should be careful, it would be horrible for someone so beautiful to become injured." He nodded. For him the worst thought in the world, worse then dying, worse then the loss of his mate, worse then the fact he didn't know his own children, was the loss of beauty. He would survive, he would endure, as much as it hurt him to do so, all other tragedies. But to witness the loss of beauty, his heart would not break, it would be destroyed.
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Posted: Mon Apr 04, 2016 7:45 pm
What a strange happenstance, indeed. There were moments of silence, as the stallion collected himself, where Blessita could do naught but stare - she had never seen anything like him before! "'s o.k., " she blinked, still rather in awe of the changling creature before her. Not exactly one familiar with...Soquili unlike herself, she couldn't quite place what this guy was. But those thoughts of curiosity vanished the moment her eyes fell upon his colorful wings, and Blessita broke out into a wide grin, spreading as far as her face could manage. He was, brilliant! Magnificent! How did he get wings so pretty? Her eyes twinkled as she took in the sight before her, careful to note every bit of speckled color on him. What...joy!
He was joy! Well, could he have been? She had been sad only moments before, and then BOOM, color! Her life could definitely use some color. Oh, if only Umo was here to see him. No! Thoughts of Umo aside, this stallion was certainly something to focus on. Now if only she could find the words to speak correctly...
Darn her speech.
The words that followed, however, confused the mare, snapping her back into reality as she heard them. A muse? What? "Muse...," the word, foreign, formed perfectly on her lips as she repeated it, her eyes twisting downward as if staring at something strange. His muse said he had no manners? Was a muse a child? A friend? What? "Wha' is a'muse?", she finally asked, keeping a joyous tone to her voice as she spoke. The colors that he carried wiped away all of her former thoughts, it seemed, and yes, she was able to focus on him and him alone. For now.
"Good, tha' is good, yes. Broken bones are n'fun," Blessita shook her head vigorously; she had never encountered a broken bone herself, but Umo once had, and the outcome was quite disastrous for both of them. He had been out for weeks - weeks! She had to wait, wait...until he was healed before they could explore again!! Oh! She was silently grateful this stallion hadn't hurt himself, she wouldn't quite know what to do, otherwise. Run, probably, or scream, until someone else came for help; she truly was a foal stuck in a mare's body...
And then, his next words came, and everything else went still. Oh goodness! Normally compliments went over the mare's head, as she always saw herself as less than anything but just herself, so as he complimented her, she took a step back. All of the rest of the words that he spoke were lost on her as she focused on that one word - Umo never called her it, but, he didn't have to, she knew how he felt, deep down. Her father never called her it, but, he called everyone it, so it didn't count even if he did. "Beautiful? Ohno, but thank ya! My ol' mate used t'say tha' too, but ah' am not beautiful," a cheerful smile followed her words as she spoke softly, "ah' am just Blessita - Lessie, ya ca' call me! Wha' ye name?" The mare had quietly wished her speech had not turned him off from pleasant conversation, so each word was spoken with precision, carefully pronouncing the words the way that Umo had taught her. Growing up, she never quite cared to learn how to speak properly, so as an adult, it reflected, clearly.
She tried though, isn't that what mattered?
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Posted: Tue Apr 05, 2016 9:45 pm
The stallion's eyes grew wide in shock. What was a muse? The thought someone didn't know what a muse was... He shook his head sadly. "Oh you poor thing, you poor poor thing..." he said. "A muse... is life. A muse..." He went quiet a moment, thinking. How did one describe something so primal, so natural. It was like trying to describe a color, or a feeling. Crea turned away from her a moment, pacing slightly, his head lowering. His brow furrowed as he concentrated. His wings shifted and flowed, the colors changing rapidly as he walked.
After several moments he stopped, refocusing on her. His joyous smile was gone and he contemplated her. "My name is Crea Tion..." he said softly. "Call me Crea. And I... I do not know how to describe what a muse is, Lessie... I am sorry." His body slumped, his head lowered once more, his chest giving a great heave as he sighed. An absolute failure. To be unable to describe something so important to him. To be unable to share.
"Have you ever..." he started, his brows still knit tightly together. "Have you ever seen a sunrise, and been unable to breathe?" His voice was still soft, serious in a way that did not suit him. "Have you ever had your heart beat a thousand miles a minute when you looked upon a flower? Have you ever gotten lost for days within the span of just a few seconds, all because you looked at them?" He stomped a hoof in frustration and spun in a tight circle. "Why is this so hard!" He yelled out and then flopped to the ground, poking at the dirt and grass. The little stallion just couldn't figure out why...
"Oh..." he said lightly. "Of course... It... It isn't something that I can describe, because I've lost mine. Like how if you've lost your voice, you can't tell someone you lost it, because it's gone." He smiled happily, standing up once more. "Sorry, I... can be a bit dramatic." A sheepish smile crossed his face. "I would love to show you, what I mean... but I haven't been painting as much as I like, so my abilities are rusty, at best. And don't think I didn't hear what you said, fair miss. You are a beautiful creature. I would know. I may be rusty, and perhaps some part of me may be broken, but if there is one thing I know, I know beauty when I see it. Perhaps, now, that is all I am good for. So don't try to tell me otherwise. I assure you, I am an expert!" The sheepish smile turned into a confident grin.
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Posted: Wed Nov 02, 2016 6:26 pm
She looked at him with childlike wonder as he dove into his description of what a muse was. Every single word he spoke had meaning, and she listened as if they were the first words she's heard in years. Such beauty in his description, it couldn't go unnoticed! He had started by calling her poor, which was lost on her, but....unimportant so she let that question die as it was born on her lips. Instead, she just stared, her grin getting larger and more vibrant with every word he spoke.
While her ears listened, her eyes danced back and forth as she watched his wings change before her very eyes. Was he magical? Blessita's grin couldn't possibly have gotten any larger, for if it had, she'd have a dislocated jaw quite literally, so instead she allowed her eyes to do the smiling. Whatever thoughts she had prior to this stallion stumbling upon her were....well, gone. It was truly a sight to behold! Even his hooves gave off the illusion that they've been dumped in a rainbow...she was quite enthralled by what she saw, and what she heard as he continued to paint the picture of what a muse was, in her mind. "Cre'ah," she absentmindedly mumbled, still completely lost to his magical spell. The stallion's momentary pause, where he doubted himself, had gone completely unnoticed, and Blessita truly believed he was something out of a fairytale.
She pictured herself in a meadow, as a child, pouncing on the budding flowers and the buzzing bees. She pictured the innocent laughter that she and her brother's had filled the air, not yet broken by the hardships of life. She pictured the smiling faces of her parents, not together, but still very much happy....before any of it had happened. Was this a muse? A happy memory? If so, no wonder she didn't know what it was....hers died the same day Umo did....
"How d'ya get ye muse back? Can ah' help?" She sounded as if she was coming off a cloud as she spoke, still a little confused, but....his words had moved her, and she wanted more. "Ah' dun think ah' have a muse....," she whispered, mostly to herself, willing herself to picture the beauty of life again, like she had just a moment ago.
"T'ank ya, yes! Ye a pretty picture ye'self!!" Blessita finally giggling, allowing the compliment to be given, and not rebutted. After hearing his words, there wasn't much he could say now that she wouldn't have believed or listened to. So for now, she let it go. Any other circumstances, any other Soquili, she may have continued to argue the sentiment.
And then, remembering what he said about losing his muse and being unhappy...and then using the word broken, she felt...comfortable. Could this stallion help her understand her pain? "Ah broken, too....," she let out, albeit still in a happy, starstruck tone.Lita Rutherford I'm sorry for the wait on this. Please let me know if this is something you're still interested in!!
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