06-25-2018, 03:59 AM
<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Calligraffitti|Coda|Lato|Roboto+Condensed" rel="stylesheet"><style type="text/css">.toni_container {position: relative;z-index: 1; background-color: black;width: 550px;border-radius: 280px 283px 0px 0px;box-shadow: 0px 0px 10px 8px black;}.toni_container p {margin: 0;}.toni_image {position:relative;z-index:2;width: 550px; border-radius: 270px 274px 0px 0px;}.toni_gradient {position: relative;z-index: 3;top:-30px;width: 550px;height: 30px;background:background: -ms-linear-gradient(top, rgba(125,185,232,0) 0%, rgba(2,0,1,0.99) 99%, rgba(2,0,1,1) 100%);background: -webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(125,185,232,0) 0%,rgba(2,0,1,0.99) 99%,rgba(2,0,1,1) 100%);background: linear-gradient(to bottom, rgba(125,185,232,0) 0%,rgba(2,0,1,0.99) 99%,rgba(2,0,1,1) 100%);filter;padding:0px;margin:0px;}.toni_message {position:relative;z-index:0;background-color:#000;text-align: justify;font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif;padding-left: 25px; padding-right: 25px;padding-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px;;color: #D7D5D6;border-radius: 0px 0px 18px 18px;}.toni_quote {position: relative; z-index: 10000; text-align:center; margin-bottom:15px;color: #2C0C50;font-size:50px;font:40px 'Calligraffitti', cursive;letter-spacing:30px;}</style><center><div class="toni_container"><img class="toni_image" src="https://i.pinimg.com/736x/4d/da/09/4dda093e1240f0d7f82673cf26bf1c33.jpg"><div class="toni_gradient"></div><div class="toni_message">Years and decades and almost a century - that's how long I've been with her, or rather, since she captured my heart (or something to that effect anyhow...). But of course, the time <i>before</i> Casia (as I christened her) is eternally longer: or almost, anyway. Her suspicion about my having been mortal and powerless at one point is correct; so I do have a <i>beginning.</i> Truth be told, I'm actually young in comparison to the rest of the Fae - young enough to not even be Official.
Ah, but to explain it all... I suppose I ought to start at the beginning, oughtn't I?
As the sun dawned on the birth of Beqanna, it saw also the first generations born of the three original colonizers. The population of this continent quickly swelled, and I was among that pregnant number. I did not live long; abandoned by my mother, I was left to freeze not months after my birth. Of course, other children had been killed by this point: but something stirred in the hearts and minds of the Fae as they saw my white body blended perfectly into the snow.
<i>Not to be made immortal,</i> they whispered, scheming. <i>And no, not to be sent to the Afterlife.</i> Their voices rang like echoes through the dead neurons of my skull, tingling and begging to reanimate my fallen corpse. They must have felt my willingness to be alive once more, for their speaking grew more heated until at long last a single, matriarchal tone silenced the rest. <i>She will be one of us. As Beqanna grows, we will need to grow our number such that we can keep her residents in check. This child is pure, yet unsullied by the mindset of mortals. We will take her, and we will hone her.</i> Voices sprang up, rebuking the Matriarch's verdict in their lesser tones. Again, she silenced them. <i>She will not be granted powers immediately. From now on, mortals absorbed into our rank will be put through a pilgrimage; and only after that point shall they truly Ascend.</i>
And so, I became one of them.
Time went far more slowly in their land than in Beqanna. By about year 50, my physical form hadn't reached past three years, and my mind remained adolescent in nature, having been taught much but trusted with no true responsibilities. The roles of a Faerie surpassed any I would have imagined, had I remained mortal past the ripe age of six months; but upon adopting their ways as my own with a cunning immediacy, their ways seemed perfectly natural to me. By year 75 I was itching to leave for my pilgrimage, yearning to Ascend and to govern with the same godly intent as the Official Fae; but it was enforced that I finish a century of training before returning to Beqanna. What kept me most sane during that last quarter century of waiting were the two other Apprentices they'd welcomed to my rank (that being the lowest of the low). In their dreamy, childish ways, I took solace, reminding myself of where I'd come and the blessing that'd been bestowed upon me so mercifully. And so, I waited.
<i>Come forth, child.</i> The Matriarch's deep, resounding voice awoke me one morning, stirring me from a fitful dream of hope and adventure. Floating to her (as my form in this realm had yet to be determined, though I observed a wide range of options among the Officials), I listened with rapt attention to the specifications of my pilgrimage which she next gave forth. They were obscure and open ended, but the one thing that remained clear was this: I would not be welcomed back to the land of the Fae until I came with something of value to them, in whichever form that presented itself. In essence, I was banished: my time there had been a gift, and now I needed to work to repay them their eternal generosity.
And Gods, I planned to.
Beyond eager to prove my worth to the Matriarch and all her underlings, I paid no attention to the form I was allotted before plummeting back into earth's atmosphere. The first thing I noticed upon touch down was that I lay exactly where I'd died, in the middle of the forest as winter busied itself around me. For a moment, panic overwhelmed me, fear striking my heart that the last century had been but a dream in the mind of a dying child. But as time passed and I remained alive and quite unaffected by the bitter cold, I found courage enough to sit up and regard my surroundings.
<i>Sit up?</i>
Intrigued, I lifted my strange new legs, considering them more calmly than perhaps you, dear reader, would have expected. But remember - I've been surrounded by the Fae since the beginning of my Apprenticeship. This shape, called <i>human</i>, is as familiar to me now as that of a horse. The exact motor skills of this new form did get me into trouble that first day (face planting in snow, even if you can't feel it's freezing bite, is less than fun), but sooner than later I perfected the art of walking, running, dancing, leaping, and yes, flying.
Even as an uninitiated Faerie, I had more magic in my veins than even the most magical of Beqannians could dream of.
For the first few years upon my return, nothing fruitful occurred. More often than not I found myself simply memorizing the exact landscape and observing as many residents as I could. By the time a change came about (because they always did; the Cloud of Darkness, the Disruption, and many other smaller-scale events), I was caught quite off guard. There'd been teachings on these kinds of forceful remodel-lings; but learning of one and living through it are two quite different experiences. The Catastrophe took place around year 100 itself, wrecking the groundwork I'd lain in pre-catastrophe Beqanna. The Amazonian women with whom I'd felt a most kindred attachment were at once ripped to shreds by the gale that the Fae sent careening towards them. Devastated - as their home was now mine, and being even minimally Fae meant an empathy to the land that not even the Sisters could understand - I receded into the crevices offered to me by the sick rending of the land, taking time to nurse my wounds though they were exclusively emotional in nature.
---
As yet again the dawning sun rose upon Beqanna, I too rose. This time, I wasted no time with observations or studying of the land: during my years melted into the soil of Beqanna, I'd devised a plan.
Cloaking myself as always in a magical white dress which disguised me to passerbys as but a drifting cloud overhead, I took to the skies in search of the perfect place to hatch my plan. The beauty of a herdland based in the Falls caught my attention, and I settled there easily, comforted by the silence which reigned there at the time. A lull of liveliness was at this point rampant, and I hoped that by way of my scheme, some life would be injected back into this land. Of course, I had ulterior motives: four decades had now passed since the beginning of my pilgrimage, and though I felt no true pressure time-wise, the fate and destiny of it all felt as right as it ever would.
Thus, surrounded on all sides by the dense pines of the Forest Frontier, I traveled to its center. There I found a lake, and borne from it, a stream. <i>Perfect.</i> Without much further exploration, a particular curve in the stream pulled me to it as if with a force greater than gravity, and I knew this to be the place.
Settling overhead in the guise of a cloud, I commanded the river to take on the hue of a rainbow. It's sparkling waters would entice even the simplest of minds, though I hoped desperately for one of intelligence to find themselves at the mercy of my magic. But that magic was yet beyond my reach, and so I was forced to wait in anxious stillness for a passerby to approach, watching in quiet fascination as the stream glimmered due simply to my own unworthy command.
(Power felt good, I began to realize; it wouldn't be long before I felt the full weight of it securely in my grasp.)
And that - that was when <i>She</i> arrived.
Clad in a simple black hue, the creature approached with a boldness unlike others I'd observed during my early years back in Beqanna. The dark orbs of her eyes spoke legions of strange stories into my ears, though she threw me only a glance as she caroused through the forested land. Although I had no control over her in truth, I willed her to bathe in my magic, to become one with me.
(Power felt good, I began to realize; it wouldn't be long before I felt the full weight of it securely in my grasp.)
And thus, she bathed.
---
<b>"Who are you?"</b> Her voice rang out harshly, those dark eyes squinting towards me with a sharp keenness. She asked not about the change of colour, nor of its coming about: in our first moments together, she already knew to respect the dynamics of our illicit relationship. That I would be magical - and she only tinged by its effects, cast forever in the hue of my choosing. Purple, royalty, to suit her name: Regina Atra, Evil Queen.
<i>"I am the decider of your fate,"</i> came my ethereal reply as I drifted in an obscure, vaguely equine shape before her. My hands reached deep into her brain, prying apart neurons much as the Matriarch had all that time ago (years and decades and far more than a century). From there, I pulled for memories that she held sacred, speaking them back to her such that she might understand in full the extent of my power and reign over her. Silently, the newly christened figure listened to her own life departing from my lips, perhaps sick to her stomach or perhaps admiring the power I wielded. Of course it was the latter - the Evil Queen was not proud or egotistical, but did of course see the exact way in which she could better her station by aligning herself with me.
It wasn't the plan of course - but those eyes...
<i>"My first action as decider is to rechristen you, as you have bathed in my waters: go forth now as Casia, though your true name shall always be known by me."</i> The tall, amethyst mare stepped forward, quiet but infinitely attracted to the glow of my white figure. Feeling confident myself, I too stepped forward, solidifying the mist of my being into the shape that I'd been granted. A soft snort billowed from Casia's nose, but still she remained silent. Others of her kind would accost me with curses and confused screams upon seeing my human shape, but she was different: she was not born of this land, coming instead from a great Elsewhere that perhaps even the Matriarch Herself was not aware of. Her raw individuality beckoned to the feral snow-dead child within me, the way she licked her lips opening a thousand doors of possibility where there'd once been none. I would have her, I decided in that instant, as I reached out to stroke the length of her cheekbone. I would have her.
(Power felt good, I began to realize; it wouldn't be long before I felt the full weight of it securely in my grasp.)
She came for me all too easily, though I admired the way she put up a fight against the euphoric magic that flowed from my hand into her most sacred areas. Our sex was not graphic, nor would it ever be; a simple touch was all that her pleasure required, and of my own pleasure, derivation came solely from the faces she made as I collapsed her sensuality again and again. It was a great gift for me to bestow upon her, after only those three words: <i>who are you.</i> But in the catatonic waves of my sexual prowess, she soon said far more words, crying and screaming into the night until she was all but dead from exhaustion.
---
<i>"So,"</i> I murmured into the velvet of her year, stroking her forelock with hands that were no longer vessels for orgasm. <i>"I have a proposition for you, my love."</i> She tried to lift her head from my lap, but I pressed it back down gently. She hadn't the physical strength to resist any farther. <i>"In exchange for tonight - and for many, many nights to come, oh yes - you will go forth and multiply. You will strive with all your might to reach an exact descendant count of one hundred and sixty four individuals, or else be lost of my pleasures forever."</i> She mewled into my lap pitifully at the thought, though I knew that as she grew more accustomed to the intensity of my powers, we would be at each others throats more than she would be in my lap. <i>"I know baby, I know - you will do it."</i> She blinked her agreement, and I smiled my benediction down upon her. <i>"That's a good girl. Now come; rest."</i>
---
And so, after years and decades and almost a century, she completed her task. There were of course times of doubt and anger between us - but always, always the touch of my hand to her skin would cure us of any tribulation. Some mortals might have questioned our union, had they known of it, but between her and I, it felt as natural as breathing. As I told her one night, I truly believe that we were lovers in a different life; but I stopped mentioning that thought in favour of being her lover now, again and again and again and <i>especially</i> after she fucked a stallion. Showing her the true meaning of pleasure satisfied me to no end; I didn't need to, but I proved over and over how superior I was to any of her kind.
It was love, but not in the traditional way.
It was prostitution, but not in the traditional way.
---
<i>"Remember your agreement, Casia."</i> comes my voice, humming around us as it always does. My beautiful amethyst leans into my side, aged no despite my best efforts to keep her youthful. My cool hand (always cool, as one murdered by winter) rests easily on her skull, brushing her thick purple forelock away from those devastatingly cunning black eyes. A tired sigh whuffs from her nostrils, a lifetime's exhaustion threatening to take hold: and well she deserves that rest, for all that she's done to obey my one and only command.
Too bad she won't be receiving it.
<b>"I have not forgotten; how could I, my love?"</b>
Such a smart girl, my Evil Queen.
Lifting herself, she steps towards the portal with the same confidence that she'd stepped towards my stream. Perhaps it is our connection as reincarnated lovers, or perhaps it is her brazen courage in the face of magic, but I've never once seen the purple mare cower before the whims or power of the Fae. Now, I can tell that her confidence verges even on becoming boredom, and I simply cannot have that. As she looks back at me one more time, I send a thrill through her, reminding her that with me, <i>everything</i> is an adventure. Or rather, everything is a scheme; and everything, everything is <i>sex.
"Don't be afraid,"</i> I murmur, reaching out with both hands to cup both sides of Casia's purple face. Our eyes connect, and with grim satisfaction, I send a shock through her; adrenaline, oxytocin, tranquilizers, both, everything. A moan of sexual pleasure and release slips gutturally from the mare as the familiar sensation of orgasm rolls over her at my whim. Trembling now, though only slightly, my Evil Queen nods, nuzzling closer and preparing herself to step through the portal.
<i>"I won't let them hurt you."</i>
<b>"I don't believe you in the slightest."</b>
Ah, my smart girl; how easily you see through my lies.
(The weight of power shifts as if to settle itself in my grasp; as we cross through the portal, my grim smile only grows. After ninety six years, my pilgrimage will finally come to an end - and with Casia as my gift, I am certain I will Ascend.)</br></br><div class="toni_quote">casia</div> </div></div></center>
Notes:
-Catastrophe generally around year 100
-Regina Atra claims colour change on March 7th 2013, year 144, followed closely by an OOC name change to Casia
- http://www.boards2go.com/boards/board.cg...ers&page=1 link to thread where fairy gives gift via stream
-Fuck this got historical and long
-Word count: 2775
-Thank fuck I stopped in time
Ah, but to explain it all... I suppose I ought to start at the beginning, oughtn't I?
As the sun dawned on the birth of Beqanna, it saw also the first generations born of the three original colonizers. The population of this continent quickly swelled, and I was among that pregnant number. I did not live long; abandoned by my mother, I was left to freeze not months after my birth. Of course, other children had been killed by this point: but something stirred in the hearts and minds of the Fae as they saw my white body blended perfectly into the snow.
<i>Not to be made immortal,</i> they whispered, scheming. <i>And no, not to be sent to the Afterlife.</i> Their voices rang like echoes through the dead neurons of my skull, tingling and begging to reanimate my fallen corpse. They must have felt my willingness to be alive once more, for their speaking grew more heated until at long last a single, matriarchal tone silenced the rest. <i>She will be one of us. As Beqanna grows, we will need to grow our number such that we can keep her residents in check. This child is pure, yet unsullied by the mindset of mortals. We will take her, and we will hone her.</i> Voices sprang up, rebuking the Matriarch's verdict in their lesser tones. Again, she silenced them. <i>She will not be granted powers immediately. From now on, mortals absorbed into our rank will be put through a pilgrimage; and only after that point shall they truly Ascend.</i>
And so, I became one of them.
Time went far more slowly in their land than in Beqanna. By about year 50, my physical form hadn't reached past three years, and my mind remained adolescent in nature, having been taught much but trusted with no true responsibilities. The roles of a Faerie surpassed any I would have imagined, had I remained mortal past the ripe age of six months; but upon adopting their ways as my own with a cunning immediacy, their ways seemed perfectly natural to me. By year 75 I was itching to leave for my pilgrimage, yearning to Ascend and to govern with the same godly intent as the Official Fae; but it was enforced that I finish a century of training before returning to Beqanna. What kept me most sane during that last quarter century of waiting were the two other Apprentices they'd welcomed to my rank (that being the lowest of the low). In their dreamy, childish ways, I took solace, reminding myself of where I'd come and the blessing that'd been bestowed upon me so mercifully. And so, I waited.
<i>Come forth, child.</i> The Matriarch's deep, resounding voice awoke me one morning, stirring me from a fitful dream of hope and adventure. Floating to her (as my form in this realm had yet to be determined, though I observed a wide range of options among the Officials), I listened with rapt attention to the specifications of my pilgrimage which she next gave forth. They were obscure and open ended, but the one thing that remained clear was this: I would not be welcomed back to the land of the Fae until I came with something of value to them, in whichever form that presented itself. In essence, I was banished: my time there had been a gift, and now I needed to work to repay them their eternal generosity.
And Gods, I planned to.
Beyond eager to prove my worth to the Matriarch and all her underlings, I paid no attention to the form I was allotted before plummeting back into earth's atmosphere. The first thing I noticed upon touch down was that I lay exactly where I'd died, in the middle of the forest as winter busied itself around me. For a moment, panic overwhelmed me, fear striking my heart that the last century had been but a dream in the mind of a dying child. But as time passed and I remained alive and quite unaffected by the bitter cold, I found courage enough to sit up and regard my surroundings.
<i>Sit up?</i>
Intrigued, I lifted my strange new legs, considering them more calmly than perhaps you, dear reader, would have expected. But remember - I've been surrounded by the Fae since the beginning of my Apprenticeship. This shape, called <i>human</i>, is as familiar to me now as that of a horse. The exact motor skills of this new form did get me into trouble that first day (face planting in snow, even if you can't feel it's freezing bite, is less than fun), but sooner than later I perfected the art of walking, running, dancing, leaping, and yes, flying.
Even as an uninitiated Faerie, I had more magic in my veins than even the most magical of Beqannians could dream of.
For the first few years upon my return, nothing fruitful occurred. More often than not I found myself simply memorizing the exact landscape and observing as many residents as I could. By the time a change came about (because they always did; the Cloud of Darkness, the Disruption, and many other smaller-scale events), I was caught quite off guard. There'd been teachings on these kinds of forceful remodel-lings; but learning of one and living through it are two quite different experiences. The Catastrophe took place around year 100 itself, wrecking the groundwork I'd lain in pre-catastrophe Beqanna. The Amazonian women with whom I'd felt a most kindred attachment were at once ripped to shreds by the gale that the Fae sent careening towards them. Devastated - as their home was now mine, and being even minimally Fae meant an empathy to the land that not even the Sisters could understand - I receded into the crevices offered to me by the sick rending of the land, taking time to nurse my wounds though they were exclusively emotional in nature.
---
As yet again the dawning sun rose upon Beqanna, I too rose. This time, I wasted no time with observations or studying of the land: during my years melted into the soil of Beqanna, I'd devised a plan.
Cloaking myself as always in a magical white dress which disguised me to passerbys as but a drifting cloud overhead, I took to the skies in search of the perfect place to hatch my plan. The beauty of a herdland based in the Falls caught my attention, and I settled there easily, comforted by the silence which reigned there at the time. A lull of liveliness was at this point rampant, and I hoped that by way of my scheme, some life would be injected back into this land. Of course, I had ulterior motives: four decades had now passed since the beginning of my pilgrimage, and though I felt no true pressure time-wise, the fate and destiny of it all felt as right as it ever would.
Thus, surrounded on all sides by the dense pines of the Forest Frontier, I traveled to its center. There I found a lake, and borne from it, a stream. <i>Perfect.</i> Without much further exploration, a particular curve in the stream pulled me to it as if with a force greater than gravity, and I knew this to be the place.
Settling overhead in the guise of a cloud, I commanded the river to take on the hue of a rainbow. It's sparkling waters would entice even the simplest of minds, though I hoped desperately for one of intelligence to find themselves at the mercy of my magic. But that magic was yet beyond my reach, and so I was forced to wait in anxious stillness for a passerby to approach, watching in quiet fascination as the stream glimmered due simply to my own unworthy command.
(Power felt good, I began to realize; it wouldn't be long before I felt the full weight of it securely in my grasp.)
And that - that was when <i>She</i> arrived.
Clad in a simple black hue, the creature approached with a boldness unlike others I'd observed during my early years back in Beqanna. The dark orbs of her eyes spoke legions of strange stories into my ears, though she threw me only a glance as she caroused through the forested land. Although I had no control over her in truth, I willed her to bathe in my magic, to become one with me.
(Power felt good, I began to realize; it wouldn't be long before I felt the full weight of it securely in my grasp.)
And thus, she bathed.
---
<b>"Who are you?"</b> Her voice rang out harshly, those dark eyes squinting towards me with a sharp keenness. She asked not about the change of colour, nor of its coming about: in our first moments together, she already knew to respect the dynamics of our illicit relationship. That I would be magical - and she only tinged by its effects, cast forever in the hue of my choosing. Purple, royalty, to suit her name: Regina Atra, Evil Queen.
<i>"I am the decider of your fate,"</i> came my ethereal reply as I drifted in an obscure, vaguely equine shape before her. My hands reached deep into her brain, prying apart neurons much as the Matriarch had all that time ago (years and decades and far more than a century). From there, I pulled for memories that she held sacred, speaking them back to her such that she might understand in full the extent of my power and reign over her. Silently, the newly christened figure listened to her own life departing from my lips, perhaps sick to her stomach or perhaps admiring the power I wielded. Of course it was the latter - the Evil Queen was not proud or egotistical, but did of course see the exact way in which she could better her station by aligning herself with me.
It wasn't the plan of course - but those eyes...
<i>"My first action as decider is to rechristen you, as you have bathed in my waters: go forth now as Casia, though your true name shall always be known by me."</i> The tall, amethyst mare stepped forward, quiet but infinitely attracted to the glow of my white figure. Feeling confident myself, I too stepped forward, solidifying the mist of my being into the shape that I'd been granted. A soft snort billowed from Casia's nose, but still she remained silent. Others of her kind would accost me with curses and confused screams upon seeing my human shape, but she was different: she was not born of this land, coming instead from a great Elsewhere that perhaps even the Matriarch Herself was not aware of. Her raw individuality beckoned to the feral snow-dead child within me, the way she licked her lips opening a thousand doors of possibility where there'd once been none. I would have her, I decided in that instant, as I reached out to stroke the length of her cheekbone. I would have her.
(Power felt good, I began to realize; it wouldn't be long before I felt the full weight of it securely in my grasp.)
She came for me all too easily, though I admired the way she put up a fight against the euphoric magic that flowed from my hand into her most sacred areas. Our sex was not graphic, nor would it ever be; a simple touch was all that her pleasure required, and of my own pleasure, derivation came solely from the faces she made as I collapsed her sensuality again and again. It was a great gift for me to bestow upon her, after only those three words: <i>who are you.</i> But in the catatonic waves of my sexual prowess, she soon said far more words, crying and screaming into the night until she was all but dead from exhaustion.
---
<i>"So,"</i> I murmured into the velvet of her year, stroking her forelock with hands that were no longer vessels for orgasm. <i>"I have a proposition for you, my love."</i> She tried to lift her head from my lap, but I pressed it back down gently. She hadn't the physical strength to resist any farther. <i>"In exchange for tonight - and for many, many nights to come, oh yes - you will go forth and multiply. You will strive with all your might to reach an exact descendant count of one hundred and sixty four individuals, or else be lost of my pleasures forever."</i> She mewled into my lap pitifully at the thought, though I knew that as she grew more accustomed to the intensity of my powers, we would be at each others throats more than she would be in my lap. <i>"I know baby, I know - you will do it."</i> She blinked her agreement, and I smiled my benediction down upon her. <i>"That's a good girl. Now come; rest."</i>
---
And so, after years and decades and almost a century, she completed her task. There were of course times of doubt and anger between us - but always, always the touch of my hand to her skin would cure us of any tribulation. Some mortals might have questioned our union, had they known of it, but between her and I, it felt as natural as breathing. As I told her one night, I truly believe that we were lovers in a different life; but I stopped mentioning that thought in favour of being her lover now, again and again and again and <i>especially</i> after she fucked a stallion. Showing her the true meaning of pleasure satisfied me to no end; I didn't need to, but I proved over and over how superior I was to any of her kind.
It was love, but not in the traditional way.
It was prostitution, but not in the traditional way.
---
<i>"Remember your agreement, Casia."</i> comes my voice, humming around us as it always does. My beautiful amethyst leans into my side, aged no despite my best efforts to keep her youthful. My cool hand (always cool, as one murdered by winter) rests easily on her skull, brushing her thick purple forelock away from those devastatingly cunning black eyes. A tired sigh whuffs from her nostrils, a lifetime's exhaustion threatening to take hold: and well she deserves that rest, for all that she's done to obey my one and only command.
Too bad she won't be receiving it.
<b>"I have not forgotten; how could I, my love?"</b>
Such a smart girl, my Evil Queen.
Lifting herself, she steps towards the portal with the same confidence that she'd stepped towards my stream. Perhaps it is our connection as reincarnated lovers, or perhaps it is her brazen courage in the face of magic, but I've never once seen the purple mare cower before the whims or power of the Fae. Now, I can tell that her confidence verges even on becoming boredom, and I simply cannot have that. As she looks back at me one more time, I send a thrill through her, reminding her that with me, <i>everything</i> is an adventure. Or rather, everything is a scheme; and everything, everything is <i>sex.
"Don't be afraid,"</i> I murmur, reaching out with both hands to cup both sides of Casia's purple face. Our eyes connect, and with grim satisfaction, I send a shock through her; adrenaline, oxytocin, tranquilizers, both, everything. A moan of sexual pleasure and release slips gutturally from the mare as the familiar sensation of orgasm rolls over her at my whim. Trembling now, though only slightly, my Evil Queen nods, nuzzling closer and preparing herself to step through the portal.
<i>"I won't let them hurt you."</i>
<b>"I don't believe you in the slightest."</b>
Ah, my smart girl; how easily you see through my lies.
(The weight of power shifts as if to settle itself in my grasp; as we cross through the portal, my grim smile only grows. After ninety six years, my pilgrimage will finally come to an end - and with Casia as my gift, I am certain I will Ascend.)</br></br><div class="toni_quote">casia</div> </div></div></center>
Notes:
-Catastrophe generally around year 100
-Regina Atra claims colour change on March 7th 2013, year 144, followed closely by an OOC name change to Casia
- http://www.boards2go.com/boards/board.cg...ers&page=1 link to thread where fairy gives gift via stream
-Fuck this got historical and long
-Word count: 2775
-Thank fuck I stopped in time