“You know I can be a little rough, though the word abrasive seems a bit more tantalizing. What can I say after my life you’d be a cold one too. “
Delphine or Merlot as she has come to call herself when she’s in a particular mood for the night is a broken individual. Though she has some remnants of salvation in her frail body, those aspects are hard to see through her outward behavior. Being from her background that crushed any type of outward expression of the self through either actions or personality, she is a secretive individual, preferring to get others to talk before she reveals anything more about herself. She often does this in a less than subtle way, after all for years it was her job to be someone of comfort for others.
Though she prefers others to talk and reveal little, this is just an honest way of her trying to protect herself. She is untrusting, and rightfully so, of everyone. She’d prefer to never give away a part of her mind to anyone, though physically she seems to a backseat. She is willing to throw herself to whatever anyone wants if they can say the right words to her. In this way she is oddly loyal, but for the life of her can’t figure out that this type of loyalty is a blessing and a curse in everyday situations.
Delphine has a fire-cracker spirit and is very defensive of herself as a psychological being while other aspects of herself have been lent to the wind. She hates to reveal the true nature of her gained disability from breaking her hip, knowing it makes her frail or damaged. This is something so occasionally uses to her advantage though to attract others in to her world though she prefers it not to be the main focus of her being.
Delphine is above most else a thrill-seeker, she hates being alone with her thoughts and like to stir the pot. Though her previous life of addiction has gone by the way-side she still has the occasional urge for the sake of bringing something different to her life. You don’t just get over the things that have happened to someone like her.
Though she is all of these things outwardly: aggressive, flirtatious, angry, willful, and defensive there is good there too. She’d never admit it she does have the soft spots for the plights of others and is a good friend once you get past her abrasive exterior. Above all now-a-days Delphine is violently honest, she’d spent too much time being silenced and even if it kills her she will say really anything she feels the world needs to hear. Her need to fulfill her life is entranced in her now, looking for ways to feel better always.
Though her loyalty and honesty are double edged swords she uses them to try to better herself though she is entirely unsure how. This is where her lover aspect come in to play, Delphine has a softer area for children and in her past has done her best to protect the innocents. She has a very strong sense of freedom and is generally skeptical of anyone in positions of power. Part of the reason she swore to never love a type like that ever.
Delphine works to be herself to the truest even if it destructive or productive. She wants to love and be free. Despite her goals though Delphine is NOT manipulative. Whether or not this is because she doesn’t care about the other persons information or she is just been so confused in her own life because of other’s actions she chooses no not use things against others. She tires to be in this aspect as she also understands the desire for privacy.
At the end of the day Delphine is hurting and she is just trying to see the light again but the road is unclear.
Broken Pieces
Pessimistic, Distrusting, Gullible, Cynical, Chaotic
Glued Together
Trustworthy, Loyal, Fun, Sweet, Free Spirit
DELPHINE as redacted
TWs: Cult Life, Abuse, Death, Addiction
“You think you wanna know me huh? How come? Why here we both know it doesn’t matter much anyway doll”
It had been years, years since the innocent but astonishingly brain-washed Delphine was standing in that god-awful choir room. Trying her hardest to learn the hymns of the Collective’s voice director. These were the days she had met her best friend, Bronson. It was after a quick brush of their hides, forbidden but friendly and a few words of kindness in the lonesome existence within the Collective. Though she’d preferred to remember the day she met him all she could really think of was that was the day The Father had seen her.
The fear is what stuck with Delphine through the years, constantly under the thumb of the Collective and The Father by default. The twisted cult which never actually had any real goals at least none that the general members had any full ideas of but went along with anyway. As a filly Delphine could remember the ridged ideology all gear towards that bastard Haverson, the king, the savior of the equines so he was called. Whatever he said was rule, whatever he did was the act of a god.
This included the prayers, the movements, the roles, the separation of the children from their parents, the control and “education” of everyone in the system. The mares were not even allowed to have their hair grown out, everything was cut so short it was almost painful. Delphine was no longer a child but she was born at the point when this whole depraved system was morally self-sustaining, those around her could not be trusted as they had fallen to the word of The Collective. They all used it to justify the abuse and claim glory for anything good that happened. Despite the constant negative overview of her peers and her one friend … Delphine was alone.
“Look I’m not here to talk to ya, ya gotta pay extra for all that shit. Oh, alright then. Surprise it’s all been bad! Except, ya know, for them.”
Despite the constant loneliness, Delphine did hold close to her one indulgence and comfort, her friend. As she aged she had Bronson. In her new room away from everyone, given to her for “excellent service to the cause” she would hide the letters between the two. Completely forbidden as mares and stallions were not allowed to consort outside the terms of marriage, but their friendship was true.
True it was when one day a letter, the last letter, came with a warning. Nothing Delphine could do, she had no one else and nothing to defend herself. Regardless she gave in to the possibilities, letting her mind run, run, and run on. Maybe if she stayed the path, she could avoid punishment (that punishment being what she figured was going to happen to her cause she’d obviously messed something up). Delphine pushed to demonstrate her pious-nature, volunteering for various and less than pleasant chores. She did as she was supposed to, perfectly at that, until one day a stroke of luck held her in the worst way.
The washing was to be dried, she was leading the cart alone to do this mundane task. She did the same nearly every day, so it was a puzzle when she saw another mare. She was a blue iridescent painted being with all of her “plumage” in tact and uncut. She was being escorted but two males shuffling past Delphine quickly and obviously alarmed. Who was she? Why was she different? The thoughts lasted though the initial encounter was but the briefest. They exchanged one sly glance and that was all.
“Yeah and what? ‘Course I was fucked, still am I guess just in a different way.”
It was a day afterwards when the incident happened. A bump in the night that turned in to the scream of trauma. Delphine was taken kicking, screaming, delirious from her room in the night. She was as vicious as she could be with the sack over her head and the whip ends grasping at her like devil’s thorns, stinging with the ferocity of hornets. Parts of the attack comes to her now and then, but the highlight of the whole ordeal was the smashing of her bones as she slammed against the one table in her room. Her frail body had no buffer from the wooden demon as the one slip she had caused her hip to shatter as she slammed in to the table and floor. This is the constant reminder.
The ordeal had left Delphine a shell of herself physically and psychologically… but that was really the whole point in the end. Delphine awoke confused and hazy, somehow the pain in her side was noticeable but ignorable. Why? As she steadied her gaze to see the baring of the blank grey-hued wooden room she realized there was another being! Her emotions had not yet caught up to her mind as her eyes focused in closer on the equine sitting on the floor next to her. The being was focused on her leg but Delphine payed it little mind as she struggled to make out the things face.
It was her! The blue painted mare, hair all a-floof, holding her leg still and setting a glass in front of her. She tried to peel her body off of the floor in a pathetic attempt to right herself until the shattered bones across her side body stiffly shoved her down once more. The blue mare released her leg suddenly and came closer to Delphines maroon ear, “Hey, stop… None of this is your fault, none, just do as they say and you won’t die. Call me Vixen… but my real name is Mary. You need to drink that.” So Delphine did as she was told, mostly out of desperate thirst.
“I shoulda known then and there.”
It went on like that for weeks, perhaps months. Delphine could now stand for short periods of time and she tried all she could to find any clues of where she was. Most of the time she was oddly fine, the wrecking anxiety that should have been in her was sedated to an easy worry. For the life of her Delphine couldn’t seem to surpass this odd feeling of bliss, that is until it stopped. Often she was asleep when the real lows hit but then as she would awake there she was Mary with her glass.
The name became Delphines only source of comfort even though she knew it was Mary. All the same it was a similar routine to the first time she had awoken in that horrid room. Except now the two exchanged words, they grew closer in a fucked up way. But it didn’t take long for Delphine to figure out that whatever they were doing was keeping her down and she became convinced Mary was the problem.
It was a particular evening when Mary came to Delphine while she was awake, her mistake. The two sat on the floor and Delphine now had a rage in her eye, she was coming down and that rage was not sedated for those moments. She waited until her leg was extended towards the blue painted mare, she tied, and struck. With a movement that used the bit of her strength she had regained Mary was pinned underneath Delphines body.
“WHY !?” The friendliness was gone and Delphine stamped her hoof violently near Mary’s head. Mary flinched and tears welded in her eyes, “Please Merlot, stop its not me I swear I swear it!”
“Bullshit Mary why is this happening!” Delphine said sternly now realizing that there were probably others outside that damned door. Mary (Vixen) looked up and Delphine and through her tears quietly said, “I don’t know it’s been this way forever for me, they… he does this to me too. Outside these walls I am just next to you.”
Delphine softened her body as the realizations came flooding in. It wasn’t Mary’s fault, she was just like her. Her heart was broken too. “It’s that bastard Haverson you mean?” Mary didn’t answer with her words she just nodded as she choked on her sadness. Delphine removed herself from on top of Mary and sunk herself back to the only bed in the room, her body ached from the ordeal. Mary got up off of the floor slowly when there was a terrifying slamming on the door.
The two mares stiffed with shock, there was a low growling voice. “What’s taking so long in there! Vixen you dumbass what’s going on!” Mary drafted her gaze to Delphine and started frantically gathering herself and her glass which had luckily not spilled over in the commotion, rushing towards Delphine. “Del you have to do this, they’ll beat us both.”
“God, ya know I do miss her. But it’s a lil’ better now…”
Delphine was dependent on the glasses, no doubt. And it was no time at all then when the fools outside these doors knew it too. Delphine could now stand and so they had thought it was time for her to begin her “work.” What that meant Delphine had no idea but Mary had somewhat clued her in as they continued to have their unfortunate meetings. Hard labor for the cause of the collective and entertainers, dancers, for the higher ups. She said she didn’t know when, but she did know that it would be soon.
Soon was right. Delphine was awoken a night, shooting straight out of bed the sleep in her eye vanishing immediately. “Let her know tomorrow she dances!” A voice from beyond the door called and a figure stepped in to her room. Before Delphine could adjust, she couldn’t believe her eyes. “Bronson?” She whispered having trained herself to be quieter than usual after a bout with the guards outside.
Bronson was shocked but stood firm, his mouth agape. Softly the grown stallions large hooves clipped towards Delphine. Upon reaching her Bronson took her in his embrace. Delphine shut her eyes welcoming the hold of her long lost friend. She remembered back to the small bump that had started their friendship in the first place. A small tear rolled off of her cheek and on to the dirty sheets of the plain mattress.
Bronson released his embrace and his breath was shaky as her began to speak “Oh Delphine, I have been looking for you for so long. Are you okay?” Delphine just laughed in a bit of an innocent way, it was a cruel sick joke really. “You know the usual. But where have you been you just vanished?”
“Delphine you know they had me, I’ve just been trying to survive. It’s twisted out there no one seems rational. Haverson… he’s a monster.” Bronson said all of this so fast but weighing on the word monster. Delphine nodded softly and she looked her friend in the eye, “Why are you here?” The words were low and guarded, this defiantly had something to do with what Mary had been telling her about.
It wasn’t long before Bronson had the sadness on his face again. Delphine was enjoying their rekindling and she was sure Bronson was too, so why spoil these moments together once again. Delphine attempted to comfort Bronson, but he just spat back at her, “We need to get you out.”
“Bold as he was, he was braver than all of um… braver than me.”
It wasn’t but a few nights before Bronson returned to Delphine in the night, similarly followed by jokes as the door closed behind him. He had informed the rest that Delphine was still unable to preform the hard labor they required from her, he was still protecting her. This time his face remained stern under the brief smile he shot towards her. He meant business and he took to talking in a hushed manner very quickly. The conversation was short and sudden, but one thing that Delphine knew she was ready. Ready to escape the nightmare of the wooden room and The Collective.
She turned away from Bronson, who kept one ear swiveled towards the door. It took but a moment before Delphine realized she didn’t know what she was turning for, she owned nothing. She owned nothing but she did hold something near her, worth taking with. “Bronson we need to take Mary with us, she can’t stay here anymore. She’s in the room next to mine just ask to see her as well and they’d let you.”
Bronson stood a moment weighing his options before agreeing to the plan Delphine had proposed. “It’ll be harder with her, we may not get through,” he warned. Delphine knew he was right but she couldn’t leave her only other friend and she figured they actually might have a better chance considering they seemed to trust her enough to let her wander out of her room.
Regardless the plan had been set. The next morning Bronson would sneak away from the morning assembly and bust them out. From there they would run, run far in to the wall of a forest at surrounded the complexes of The Collective. There would be traps, there would be hunts, there would be danger beyond the horrors of this awful place, there would be freedom.
There was little exchanged between the two for the rest of the visit, they knew what the next day would hold. No guarantees, no turning back, only one option. Perhaps they sat just appreciating each other’s company, for all they knew for the last time. As Bronson left and the door creaked open, Delphine could hear him request her other friend. His ruse was very convincing, and Delphine exhaled.
“Do or Die as they say.”
That morning the birds could be heard faintly in the distance, something different and a positive sign. Delphine was ready standing near the door as if it was about to talk to her. When it crept open she nearly jumped out her skin, but it wasn’t Bronson as promised. It was instead, Mary. Thoughts of worry raced around her mind, what if something had happened to Bronson? Had they found him?
“Hush.” Mary spoke sternly. Mary was good at sensing Delphines emotions and could see the excitement behind her eyes next to the crazy accumulating in her mind. Delphine asked quietly, “Why, where’s Bronson, he’s not… he’s not here?” Mary looked at her and smiled slightly, she knew now was not the time to excited Delphine more with just how well the plan was actually turning out.
“Come, you’ll need one for the road I have more to take,” the blue paint said. Delphine had other events on her mind and Mary’s words did little to quiet her, but she knew that Mary was right. Delphine’s injuries were going to hinder her in the thick of it, when that door opened there would be no slowing down. She didn’t want to be the one to blow this for all of them and so she submitted once more.
A few moments later, Delphines vision focused and her breath quickened. There was a thump on the door… it was Bronson and it was time to go.
“You know it would’ve been worse to go back and get his body, Mary and I couldn’t go back. But that door opened and I’d never felt such hope, such sense of the future. Those hallways felt like a labyrinth, but Bronson kept us on the path the steps quiet on the wood then faster as the clang of the metal lock of the front door opened. I’d never seen such light in months, the breeze in the air calling our names. Bronson picked the direction and we ran, we ran until we could almost see the edge of the forest haven. The world seemed to slow… as if it could vanish before our hooves. The shot so loud it drowned out the thump of my heart, it might as well have stopped. The dust flecked on my face the the sound of our steps became fewer. He had fallen I heard his last breath before he hit the dirt.
Mary and I cried as we ran, the adrenaline in our veins kept us from fully feeling the water droplets leaking from our eyes as we ran further and further away from that horrible place. It seemed like days before Mary and I stopped, we were lost and both on the verge of collapse. We didn’t speak, we howled. We screamed and cried the loss of our friend, my friend. He was a hero, our hero. I was done, done with the life The Collective had been for me. I miss no one except for my friend who’d been so close to the freedom we could now have.
It was some time before I found Novus as “better-ish” version of myself. Mary went her own way, she somehow could not manage to escape the grasp and vices the Collective had given her. I miss her too everyday and perhaps she is still out there somewhere in the world. But I can’t worry about that now...
O
ccasionally Delphine can be seen sporting her most prized possession. That is her cloak or as she refers, her wrap. A dainty yet comfortable thing that wreaks wealth yet seems oddly impractical for any type of court meeting. This, of course, doesn’t stop her and she holds the loose ebony threads nearly translucent in fashion close to her. The edges aligned with ebony, blush pink, and silver furs cause a type of fluff around the nape and neck of the cloak. The inside layers of the decedent thing is lined in the thinest of fur too. Though the fur is luxurious in itself, the very limits of the cloak are around in a few sliver metal accents. These accents are a match to the one metal orchid shaped broach/hair-clip that she can remove and is often only worn for special occasions.
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Artwork for banner, lower banner, character reference by me @EighthWonder.
Code structure by @c.widow
