01-17-2022, 04:31 PM
I can see through you, see your true colors
Cause inside you're ugly, you're ugly like me
Cause inside you're ugly, you're ugly like me
What had he wanted in the beginning?
To rise above all that had laughed, scorned, and mocked him? To prove to a long forgotten father that he had been worth the effort of staying? To the mother that had abandoned him (that had died for him) that he had been worth living for all those years ago? To place that sickness in his heart into each and every being that he made contact with until they all felt exactly as he did?
He doesn’t know anymore.
He hasn’t known for a long time.
There had been splashes of crimson and stained jaguar spots. A blue magician that was dangerous and clever. Slick black scales and the taste of death on its forked tongue. A place of wildflowers and beauty that no painting could ever give justice to. There had been a mare that had shown him the freedom in falling from cliffs, a fiery woman that had given him a taste of ambition, and a heavy mantle that settled on his shoulders when one called him Father, a weight that was heavier than any crown that ever haphazardly rested on his forehead.
There had been a girl with jade eyes and a tiara of crystals.
What had he wanted in the beginning?
Whatever it had been… That had hardened his heart in the first place to stone until it turned to flame, that had turned him from a lazy incapacitated arse into whatever he was now. Whatever it had been… It didn’t matter anymore.
He had asked her to come and she had. By the river with Light illuminating them both in the dimness. He had showed her the Wisps where he had once found Prayers for the simple reason that she might find them enjoyable. He did not talk of his mother or of Gale. He did not speak of their lands or what was to come. He simply looked at her and she looked at him and then suddenly…
Suddenly Beqanna was gone and it was simply them.
But it was never right, this timeline. He could feel the magic pressing in, always this sense of wrongness. He could never put his finger on it. Memories of a past life were forgotten. There was no snake writhing in his belly, there was no heartache of lost parents or memories of children left behind. All he knew was of Cheri and the life they had together. The world they ruled, side by side. And yet… Something scratched at his brain, an itch he couldn’t reach. It started to show in other ways. Enough that the crystal magician who he spent every waking moment with noticed too.
Was it her powers that released them, exhausted and spent, back into Beqanna or Cheri herself?
He doesn’t know. He doesn’t remember.
A headache is forming between his brilliant crimson eyes as they open against weak sunlight. He’s not sure where he is or how he had gotten here. It looked nothing like the Pampas or the River where he had spent last night with Cheri, showing her the Wisps. There is no sign of Light or of anyone else. It takes him a moment as the fogginess continues to cling to his mind and he slowly rises to his hooves. Where the hell was he indeed?
Looking no different (being Fae has it’s advantages after all) then he ever has, the gold and black stallion rises unceremoniously from where he was curled beneath rough rock. Perhaps he had gone too hard on the flowers again although he hadn’t partaken in them in some time. Hadn’t he? Eyes hardening with confusion, he takes in the formations of ruin and wonders what part of Beqanna he had stumbled into. He had never heard of this part before. Strange but this world had always been strange. It hits him then, the flood of what he had probably inhaled to forget. The loss of his mother, the enjoyment of tasting Gale’s blood on his serpent tongue, that overwhelming hunger that curls around his insides. He is silent, as silent as this strange area he had stumbled into, and then he sets out to go home.
Moving uncertainly, feeling off balance and still light headed, he slowly picks his way through the stones. It is only because of the clouds moving across the sky that he catches the weak golden glow and finds a familiar face. An old familiar sneer, one perhaps she had not seen in a long time, finds its way to his lips as he stares down at where she lays. A brow lifts, wondering how she could look so fragile when she had seemed so strong last night. By the River. Where they must have parted ways and then he had somehow annihilated himself to oblivion. Apparently she must have too.
“You look like shit Cheri. Whatever would your loyal subjects think?”
To rise above all that had laughed, scorned, and mocked him? To prove to a long forgotten father that he had been worth the effort of staying? To the mother that had abandoned him (that had died for him) that he had been worth living for all those years ago? To place that sickness in his heart into each and every being that he made contact with until they all felt exactly as he did?
He doesn’t know anymore.
He hasn’t known for a long time.
There had been splashes of crimson and stained jaguar spots. A blue magician that was dangerous and clever. Slick black scales and the taste of death on its forked tongue. A place of wildflowers and beauty that no painting could ever give justice to. There had been a mare that had shown him the freedom in falling from cliffs, a fiery woman that had given him a taste of ambition, and a heavy mantle that settled on his shoulders when one called him Father, a weight that was heavier than any crown that ever haphazardly rested on his forehead.
There had been a girl with jade eyes and a tiara of crystals.
What had he wanted in the beginning?
Whatever it had been… That had hardened his heart in the first place to stone until it turned to flame, that had turned him from a lazy incapacitated arse into whatever he was now. Whatever it had been… It didn’t matter anymore.
He had asked her to come and she had. By the river with Light illuminating them both in the dimness. He had showed her the Wisps where he had once found Prayers for the simple reason that she might find them enjoyable. He did not talk of his mother or of Gale. He did not speak of their lands or what was to come. He simply looked at her and she looked at him and then suddenly…
Suddenly Beqanna was gone and it was simply them.
But it was never right, this timeline. He could feel the magic pressing in, always this sense of wrongness. He could never put his finger on it. Memories of a past life were forgotten. There was no snake writhing in his belly, there was no heartache of lost parents or memories of children left behind. All he knew was of Cheri and the life they had together. The world they ruled, side by side. And yet… Something scratched at his brain, an itch he couldn’t reach. It started to show in other ways. Enough that the crystal magician who he spent every waking moment with noticed too.
Was it her powers that released them, exhausted and spent, back into Beqanna or Cheri herself?
He doesn’t know. He doesn’t remember.
A headache is forming between his brilliant crimson eyes as they open against weak sunlight. He’s not sure where he is or how he had gotten here. It looked nothing like the Pampas or the River where he had spent last night with Cheri, showing her the Wisps. There is no sign of Light or of anyone else. It takes him a moment as the fogginess continues to cling to his mind and he slowly rises to his hooves. Where the hell was he indeed?
Looking no different (being Fae has it’s advantages after all) then he ever has, the gold and black stallion rises unceremoniously from where he was curled beneath rough rock. Perhaps he had gone too hard on the flowers again although he hadn’t partaken in them in some time. Hadn’t he? Eyes hardening with confusion, he takes in the formations of ruin and wonders what part of Beqanna he had stumbled into. He had never heard of this part before. Strange but this world had always been strange. It hits him then, the flood of what he had probably inhaled to forget. The loss of his mother, the enjoyment of tasting Gale’s blood on his serpent tongue, that overwhelming hunger that curls around his insides. He is silent, as silent as this strange area he had stumbled into, and then he sets out to go home.
Moving uncertainly, feeling off balance and still light headed, he slowly picks his way through the stones. It is only because of the clouds moving across the sky that he catches the weak golden glow and finds a familiar face. An old familiar sneer, one perhaps she had not seen in a long time, finds its way to his lips as he stares down at where she lays. A brow lifts, wondering how she could look so fragile when she had seemed so strong last night. By the River. Where they must have parted ways and then he had somehow annihilated himself to oblivion. Apparently she must have too.
“You look like shit Cheri. Whatever would your loyal subjects think?”
obscene
![[Image: Obscene-Pixel.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/fTkjKh9Q/Obscene-Pixel.png){kind=tracking}