When she came into the world she was blue. Not like the sky, not like the sea, not even like a precious stone. No, she was the harsh, yet pleasing blue of ice. Donning four white boots, laced up to her knees, and a mask so black it was common to mistake her expression. She preferred to keep her hair messy, though as a child it was normally found done in inky black braids. It was her eyes though, white as snow with a pupil that seemed just dark enough to qualify as there. They seemed to vibrate with energy, drawing people to her gaze.

Upon leaving the island she eventually faded, so much so that she was nearly see-through, and not much to look at.

On the shores of Novus the change was gradual. Color returned to her dress, but rather than blue, it was creamy. Like the smoothest buttermilk. Bursts of blue explode across her hips and chest, showering down her legs and groveling along her belly. Vibrant swirls of roaning galaxies on her skin. Socks that were once white are now black. The same black as her hair. Her eyes, they are the same. The same ghostly white. Her body is made anew, grown in reverse to a youth she does not remember. It is strong, supple, sinuous. Carved of the finest marble into statuesque divinity. Tick is the definition of feminine while harboring a strength that will make your head spin.

It was too her surprise, you might imagine, that she discovered something new about this unnatural form. Something... exciting!. For how often do you get to bleed ink from your veins?

Tick is classified as a buttermilk buckskin with blue and grey roaning across her hips, chest, and legs. With four black socks, black hair, and white eyes. She bleeds black.

She is an Arabian x Warmblood cross.

Tick has always been a bit rough around the edges, she thinks. Even as a young child she was volatile and strange. Her eyes saw everything, especially the things they weren't supposed too. All the hushed glances and deviant affairs, hidden behind closed doors and misted windows.

"There's something wrong!" Her Mother said.

"She'll be fine." Her Father answered, always the bright-eyed masochist dressed in sheep's skin.

He was right though, she was fine. At least from an outside point of view. Very few could find fault with silver-laced manners and an unnatural grace. Praise was her drug and she drank it like religion. It is all true. The Fates were kind, she always thought. Though eventually she realized that 'kind' was the wrong word. No, not kind. Humorous.

Tick never did outgrow that anomalous behavior, the nervous tics that turn heads and make horses whisper. It is in her eyes, her poise, her words, her thoughts. A born-disease that has only worsened with time. Madness, most would call it. But over the years it has served too well as a guide for keeping her alive to be that. Bitterness and hubris create a hard backing, while wit and intellect build the chapters. Self-loathing and words unspoken are the glue which binds it all together. She is perfection and decay, a wise executioner. Although now... she is tired. She is old and her mind is frayed, prizing apart into thin, yet tolerant fibers of maturity that glean new understanding. This aged mind has a lot to offer this new world, as it has all the others.

Miss Tick has always expressed abnormal behaviors. She is sociopathic with psychotic and masochistic tendencies. She mellowed out with age and eventually dissociated from reality. Upon coming to Novus she is reconnecting to the world and her personality is chaotic as a result. She is learning how to live again. ** As a note, when I originally wrote her I didn't know there were names for her behaviors, but now I am more knowledgeable and able to characterize her appropriately.

It was never supposed to happen the way it did. But who really knows if an outcome is pre-determined, or if you're just flying by the seat of your pants? Everyone seems to have an answer, but opinions are like assholes, everyone has one.

chapter i.

The world is a big place with a lot of room for things to happen in it. So When Lightning Candy found her way to the island, in search of her brother, the last thing she expected was to be made a Queen. Of course, other things came first, like finding her brother. But how does a mare with nothing, rise to the top from the lowest tier in the land? Her brother was the renown hero, his name sung by those beloved and hateful alike. She encountered tales of his saintly standing and altruistic deeds, spun into riveting plots of bravery and goodness.

The day he came was the day she knew that the Universe had a sick sense of humor and she was its newest plaything. It couldn't be too bad? Being the Queen of an entire Alliance, albeit, more as a stand-in than a legitimate partner. Where the King's heart belonged to someone else, that someone had no desire to rule, and a King simply had to have a Queen. How did Lightning fit into the equation, then? Because she put herself there, confound it all! When she met the King she didn't know that's what he was, nor did she expect to fall so suddenly into the yawning pit of a romance that could never be hers. In short, it was agony, fueled by the knowledge that his use for her was in strategy and politics only.

And of course, friendship.

Words like trust, confidant, and worthy should be outlawed. Nothing more than lures that appealed to the desperate side of her that just wanted to be closer to him, because then, maybe... just maybe...

chapter ii.

She could be more than a tool, and in a fierce display of determination, she proved it. Lightning Candy was a force to be reckoned with, and although she was no knight in shining armor, she was a Queen who both ruled and lead the people of the Alliance. Earning their trust, and willingness to follow. Her prowess was unmatched, admired even. So much so that her King finally took notice. The one she wanted more than anything. No riches, no social standing, no hopeful coaxing could hold a candle to the adoration she had for her King.

And then everything was happening all at once, too fast, too soon. Too much.

Their daughter was born in the Spring, beneath the shade of an apple tree. The picture perfect moment that some would kill to experience. Yet it was tainted, sullied by the knowledge that this precious baby girl was awaited by a Fate Lightning wouldn't have wished on anyone. Sold to the highest bidder before she was even born, or rather, betrothed to the Dark Kings youngest son in an effort to forge a tentative Alliance. A futile gesture, at best.

Her beloved Biocandy never had a chance.

chapter iii.

Whether it was something to be thankful for or not, she never needed a chance, for as soon as the two yearlings set eyes on each other, the world came to a slow standstill and the Universe seemed to stop. Never in history had Fate been so perfectly aligned so as to allow such a successful gamble. The two were inseparable, honest to each other, and hopelessly in love. A spectacle made of soft touches and gentle smiles.

How could anyone have known the tragedy that would come? Who would have thought such a fortuitous union could end in tatters? It is said that Fate is written in the heavens. Had they known their Fates were forged in dying stars, perhaps they could have changed it.

YEAR ONE

Family, Familiarity, Focus.

THE END

Disgust, Forgotten, Lost.

PRESENT DAY

She is ice.

Of course, she always has been, but not like this. Her body was as the frozen tundra: cold, bitter, empty. It has become so utterly reminiscent of the spacial vortex that kept it young and ageless. If she looked hard enough, sometimes she could even see the galaxies upon her skin, glassy and distant, cold and unforgiving. There, but more like an image you could only see out of your peripheral, writhing as if it were a living thing.

How long has it been? She does not know, she stopped keeping track years ago. They are all the same, from start to finish. Occasionally she will spend them within communities, traveling from place to place, standing on the side-lines watching history be written. Knowing that she has already been there, done that, seen it. She knows what it's like, the betrayal, the love, the gore. The inevitable wars and ensuing peace. She saw Empires rise from the ashes, and crumble as delicate as a sand castle. After a time it was no more than white-noise, background drivel used as a means of keeping some semblance of sanity in tow. For hers was so fragile, so hopelessly fragile, and stretched so very thin. How far would it go? She often wondered. How long would it take for her mind to snap? Would it be like a band? Lost to the ether with no direction? Or would it be more like a coiled spring, slick with gelatinous strands of rotting grease from too many years of disrepair.

She waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Her body changed, eventually. The soft hairs of her hide became stiff and unyielding. What was once a dress of shocking blue faded into a porcelain white. Some would think she was a ghost, for in the right light, you could see right through her. It didn't matter though, none of it did. For no matter how sheer she became, life flowed determinedly through her veins.

She is so tired. So, so, tired. If only she could lie down for a bit, close her eyes to the world, and rest. Just for a few hours, that's all she asks.

Sleep never comes, and when it does, it is in fleeting glances. She suspects this is how she came to Novus. She was aboard a ship, having finally found a moment of respite below the creaking decks. When suddenly she was awake, and there was sand, white sand and a looming cliff-face. It was not until later that she saw the changes. How her fine china skin had been painted anew. Her bones no longer ached as she walked, instead they were strong, and she could kneel without crying. Her very essence was restored, sewn back into her body-made-new. It has been so long since she was young that youth is a foreign concept to her, she does not understand at first. But she learns. She remembers and she is whole again.

Miss chemical Tick was born and raised on an island lost to time and memory. Due to an error on part of the Fates, she was sentenced to wander eternity, immune to death. She is approximately 2,300 years old. Upon reaching Novus she discovers that what has cursed her for so long has not only gone, but has been reversed. Though returned to a state of youth, her mind remains (miserably) intact and unchanged by the magick of Novus.

she is here.