I l l u s i o n ; Any

[Lillith Elvira]

She had come to this place before. When the air was warm, and the trees still thick with budding leaves. Though now, the air was sharp with the violent bite of winter, and the trees brought forth no fruit. Her coat had grown to that of a curling length, the bodys response to the earths changing. At one point she wished to birth her son within the safety of the hollow, but her mind had wandered, and she had stumbled upon the conclusion that the hollow would not be safe. She loved her dearest Morty, but until she could truly figure him out, her child was not safe around him. Not now. So it is here she wandered, in search of a kingdom to hide in. At least for a little while. At least until the child was old enough to protect himself from the world. To protect himself from Morty. The dark femme moves slowly across the open land, bodice weighed down heavily with her unborn child. The boy who would inevitably change her life. Change her. She could already feel the changes taking place, a deep burn swalowing her whole. All she wanted was to love this boy, to keep him close to her forever. She knew that one day, he would wish to leave. And no matter what she wished she would let him go. Her heart sinks and she wishes deeply for her life to be different. For the boys life to be different. His world would be chaos the day he is introduced to it. it is fire, and smoke, darkness and light, and everything that lay betweem. She wishes secretly for a true love. Someone willing to give their all to her and ask fo nothing in return, though this is not what she is given. She is given a stallion so willing to let her go. Someone who would not blink if they were asked to bring her harm. Someone she loved with each breath in her lungs. Somone she gave everything too... and asked nothing of in return. Her heart is heavy as she comes to the center of the field, the creek that broke up the land like veins frozen with a thin layer of ice. A coal colored hoof raises and strikes fast, the resounding crack of the ice echoing through her ears. Lillith shakes her head, lowering it slowly to soothe her burning lungs. She should be excited. Alight with the prospect of her childs coming, but the painted doe can not find it in her. She finds dread in place of hapiness. Pain in place of love, and hatred in place of excitment. Hopefully a change in scenery would bring forth a new sense of mind. A stone in which she could build a new life. ((UNEDITED))

Lillith Elvira

cruel intentions

I’ll be the actress starring in your bad dreams

[Modicum Mortem]

Don't push me, I've got nothing to lose.

There's a video that shows one of the most evil men in history grinning, flirting with his girlfriend as she stands behind the camera. He calls her beautiful as she compliments him, smile radiating light. If you had not known who this man was, what he was capable of doing and the terrible things he did...you may have thought him just a normal person. Not the notorious killer of 6 million Jewish people living in various parts of Europe. This is scary, because it means that wickedness can lie within the nicest smiles, the prettiest of faces...that even psychopaths may have the capability to love. This is scary because evil can be anywhere...perhaps, in yourself? 

Modicum Mortem had the capability to love - even if it was a fucking twisted, narcissistic, self-centered kind of love, it was love none the less. He never liked to admit it, because what was love but the releasing of endorphins throughout the body? What was love but for the stupid, naive equines that walked Beqanna? Love never had much effect on him - he did not love his parents, or the mares he had previously seduced. He hadn't found love by watching the stars at night or seeing children frolic. 

But he had found it in her. 

Despite his want for leadership, despite the things he wanted from her in return for the time he was sacrificing, despite being able to heal quickly if she died in the process...he did love her. He found himself, all the time now, following her. He had become her shadow, an obsessed silhouette watching her as she went about her daily routine, belly bulging with the child he would raise as his own. The silhouette knew how she would eat to sustain the ever-growing fetus, then walk through the forest, then eat again, then socialize if she pleased. He knew where she was going, where to find her. Their own meetings were few and far between, but the clown took pleasure in knowing where she was...at all times. 

Which is why today, as he followed her away from the forest and into the field where they had first met, he grew confused. She had not told him of her absence, which is why he was glad he followed today, stalking through the grasses to see what in the world she was doing. She cracked the ice of a small creek with a hoof, sighed. She looked defeated - nothing like the strong mare she had been. 

And then he realized it. She was running from him...she was scared of him. 

A surge of anger pulsed through his veins. She was going to leave him? After all he was willing to do for her? After all they had planned? The ebony clown's satellites hugged the top of his skull as he bared his teeth. No fucking way.

The bitter air curled out from Modicum's nose and around his face, resulting in a huff that he did not try to mask from her ears. He didn't care to hide any longer. He turned swiftly on his heels, and began to move away from her. He laughed cruelly as he did, finding himself grow angrier with each passing second. If she did not want him anymore, than no more would he be around. She'd never be able to find him.

Modicum Mortem