be the it, girl
Mama said, fulfill the prophecy be something greater, go make a legacy, manifest destiny, back in the days we wanted everything, wanted everything. Mama said, burn your biographies, rewrite your history, light up your wildest dreams, museum victories, every day we wanted everything, wanted everything.
Marisol urges Charlie in the direction of the weapons room and the young girl needs no further convincing. She walks along eagerly, almost skipping in her excitement, almost floating. Her heart feels like it’s soaring, even though her hooves are on the ground. She thinks, there is no possible day that could ever top this one. Nothing could be better than this (except, perhaps, to become a Halcyon herself, someday).
When the Commander pushes the door to the room open, the pegasus filly moves inside at the ushering of the woman beside her. But she can’t help when she pauses in the middle of the room, a sharp intake of breath filling her lungs. If these are only the training weapons, she can’t imagine what their actual weapons room must look like. There are so many to choose from!
Charlie moves toward the wall with buckets and racks holding all types and sizes of training swords. Some are made of wood, and some appear to be made of plastic or some other hard but forgiving material. Suddenly a little unsure and a little overwhelmed, the girl glances back at the Commander, who is waiting by the partially open door.
Sunlight filters in through it, lighting up particles of dust floating through the air. The look in Marisol’s eyes encourages her to keep going, so she does. Her vermilion eyes take in each sword, until they land on one that just… feels right.
It’s black, and probably made of plastic instead of wood. Charlie carefully lifts it from the hooks on the wall, to test its weight and balance in her hand. There’s not much detail to it, but she can tell it was modeled after something real. It has a textured grip and a shallow fuller. Even though it’s not the weapon she’s always imagined, it will help her learn how to wield that one, one day.
Charlie turns toward Marisol with a smile and a delighted look in her eyes. “This one,” she says simply. The filly knows very little, but this she knows without fail. With a different kind of eagerness, she is ready to begin. And, new practice weapon in hand, Charlie makes her way back toward the Commander and the fields beyond the cracked door, waiting in the sunlight.
When the Commander pushes the door to the room open, the pegasus filly moves inside at the ushering of the woman beside her. But she can’t help when she pauses in the middle of the room, a sharp intake of breath filling her lungs. If these are only the training weapons, she can’t imagine what their actual weapons room must look like. There are so many to choose from!
Charlie moves toward the wall with buckets and racks holding all types and sizes of training swords. Some are made of wood, and some appear to be made of plastic or some other hard but forgiving material. Suddenly a little unsure and a little overwhelmed, the girl glances back at the Commander, who is waiting by the partially open door.
Sunlight filters in through it, lighting up particles of dust floating through the air. The look in Marisol’s eyes encourages her to keep going, so she does. Her vermilion eyes take in each sword, until they land on one that just… feels right.
It’s black, and probably made of plastic instead of wood. Charlie carefully lifts it from the hooks on the wall, to test its weight and balance in her hand. There’s not much detail to it, but she can tell it was modeled after something real. It has a textured grip and a shallow fuller. Even though it’s not the weapon she’s always imagined, it will help her learn how to wield that one, one day.
Charlie turns toward Marisol with a smile and a delighted look in her eyes. “This one,” she says simply. The filly knows very little, but this she knows without fail. With a different kind of eagerness, she is ready to begin. And, new practice weapon in hand, Charlie makes her way back toward the Commander and the fields beyond the cracked door, waiting in the sunlight.
@Marisol close <3
you and i, we're pioneers
we make our own rules