i tear my heart open, i sew myself shut
my weakness is that I care too much
and my scars remind me that the past is real
i tear my heart open just to feel
my weakness is that I care too much
and my scars remind me that the past is real
i tear my heart open just to feel
There is a raw beauty to night. The stars that twinkle and shine, glint with secrets in the expansive darkness. And yet, she has stopped seeing such brightness so long ago. To Valan, the stars no longer fill her with wonder like they once did. Seeing the way the moon light touched down on the snow, lighting the world up with a silver glow - she only felt the chill of winter sinking into the bones and body that no longer truly lived. Marbled, and cracked, used and tossed aside like a doll in the corner of the attic. A prized toy that no longer held the same joy when you saw it.
Except, she didn't look like a forgotten little toy. It was the curse of her species. She knew what others saw, a beautiful young lady - cranberry curls that encouraged a muzzle to brush their way through them. The subtle dips and curves of her body, the elegant arch of her neck, the roaming valleys and hills of her feminine form. The small mare knew she was designed to draw in others because what predator would survive if they couldn't entice the prey close enough.
And, the type of predator she was; required the prey to get extremely close. Close enough to ignore the blood-red eyes. To hold still, enraptured, as they strike like a mamba, fangs slicing through their necks, entering the jugular, the pulsating blood that would give them their continued existence. The very thought of it turned the mare's stomach, even as she tried not to think too hard of it. Instead, the goblet came to her muzzle, the chilled red liquid sliding down her throat. It almost seemed to burn, like she was ingesting poison. But, at least drinking the life-nurturing beverage like this meant she didn't have to hunt, bite, or kill. She would make sure of it. She wouldn't kill again.
Once was bad enough. Once was all she needed. She hadn't felt the justification she had hoped for. She hadn't felt empowered to see him dead in the bed, just as he had left her days prior. Valan swallows hard, forcing the rest of the goblet down her throat before casting it away. The vampires stood from her place in the silent manor. Her rose-hued gaze glanced around the dark walls, the window covers drawn back, showing the stars, the night world. A world she was forced to live in. A world she was forced to belong to, a monster. She deserved to be trapped in darkness, in isolation. It's where a despicable creature like she belonged. Caligo loves you too. The sudden thought, the soft voice of a lamb, cut through her mind as the memory came forth.
Instantly the mare was looking around, eyes growing wide, wild curls dancing through the air, searching the shadows for the delicate cafe-tinted mare as if expecting her to appear before snorting in self-disgust. Of course, the little lamb wasn't here. She was safe in Denocte, making friends, sparing her smile onto other innocent beings. Yet, just the memory of their meeting, the soft words, the fact she had stayed, it was enough to let Valan's head raise just a little higher.
She moved slowly from those dark halls, flickering of flames in the dark and dank manor, reminding her of how old and forgotten she was. Her master, where ever he was at the moment, would be so dismayed if he saw her so down upon herself. He was rather proud of how glorious he was, and how lovely she was; proud she was as his thrall. Was it not he who woke her with dismay at the thought that she would grow more beautifully than he if she was allowed more beauty sleep. She hoped he would return home again soon. His company always seemed to chase away her depression, the self-hate she tended to layer herself in.
He . . . and Thomasin both. Again, the memory of the lamb surged forward, and Valan sent it back, throwing open the doors of the manor and entering the night. The moonlight bathed her pale form, silvering it as she gracefully made her way through the snow. Ethereal, the way the moonlight ghosted over her, brightening those mulberry wine curls as they wafted around her in uncontrolled wildness. She'd have been an exotic sight for those who would have admired, a goddess meandering through the tundra to enter the capital of Terrastella.
The streets were silent, her hooves clip-clopping against the cobblestone. She didn't mind, she was expecting it. The rest of the world would be asleep, safe in their beds. They belonged to the sunlight, brightness, and purity of life. She belonged to the darkness, the dank, coldness of death, bleak and unforgiving. Let the precious ones sleep now, but this was a time when she was awake, her hooves maneuvering her through the land slowly, ears twitching in slight dismay at the silence. She tried to be okay with it, really did.
But it always came down to the same fact. A reminder in her aching heart as her pale pink eyes looked up and down the silent and still streets—a silent maiden alone amid the nights.
Valan was simply . . . always lonely.
@Liam
Except, she didn't look like a forgotten little toy. It was the curse of her species. She knew what others saw, a beautiful young lady - cranberry curls that encouraged a muzzle to brush their way through them. The subtle dips and curves of her body, the elegant arch of her neck, the roaming valleys and hills of her feminine form. The small mare knew she was designed to draw in others because what predator would survive if they couldn't entice the prey close enough.
And, the type of predator she was; required the prey to get extremely close. Close enough to ignore the blood-red eyes. To hold still, enraptured, as they strike like a mamba, fangs slicing through their necks, entering the jugular, the pulsating blood that would give them their continued existence. The very thought of it turned the mare's stomach, even as she tried not to think too hard of it. Instead, the goblet came to her muzzle, the chilled red liquid sliding down her throat. It almost seemed to burn, like she was ingesting poison. But, at least drinking the life-nurturing beverage like this meant she didn't have to hunt, bite, or kill. She would make sure of it. She wouldn't kill again.
Once was bad enough. Once was all she needed. She hadn't felt the justification she had hoped for. She hadn't felt empowered to see him dead in the bed, just as he had left her days prior. Valan swallows hard, forcing the rest of the goblet down her throat before casting it away. The vampires stood from her place in the silent manor. Her rose-hued gaze glanced around the dark walls, the window covers drawn back, showing the stars, the night world. A world she was forced to live in. A world she was forced to belong to, a monster. She deserved to be trapped in darkness, in isolation. It's where a despicable creature like she belonged. Caligo loves you too. The sudden thought, the soft voice of a lamb, cut through her mind as the memory came forth.
Instantly the mare was looking around, eyes growing wide, wild curls dancing through the air, searching the shadows for the delicate cafe-tinted mare as if expecting her to appear before snorting in self-disgust. Of course, the little lamb wasn't here. She was safe in Denocte, making friends, sparing her smile onto other innocent beings. Yet, just the memory of their meeting, the soft words, the fact she had stayed, it was enough to let Valan's head raise just a little higher.
She moved slowly from those dark halls, flickering of flames in the dark and dank manor, reminding her of how old and forgotten she was. Her master, where ever he was at the moment, would be so dismayed if he saw her so down upon herself. He was rather proud of how glorious he was, and how lovely she was; proud she was as his thrall. Was it not he who woke her with dismay at the thought that she would grow more beautifully than he if she was allowed more beauty sleep. She hoped he would return home again soon. His company always seemed to chase away her depression, the self-hate she tended to layer herself in.
He . . . and Thomasin both. Again, the memory of the lamb surged forward, and Valan sent it back, throwing open the doors of the manor and entering the night. The moonlight bathed her pale form, silvering it as she gracefully made her way through the snow. Ethereal, the way the moonlight ghosted over her, brightening those mulberry wine curls as they wafted around her in uncontrolled wildness. She'd have been an exotic sight for those who would have admired, a goddess meandering through the tundra to enter the capital of Terrastella.
The streets were silent, her hooves clip-clopping against the cobblestone. She didn't mind, she was expecting it. The rest of the world would be asleep, safe in their beds. They belonged to the sunlight, brightness, and purity of life. She belonged to the darkness, the dank, coldness of death, bleak and unforgiving. Let the precious ones sleep now, but this was a time when she was awake, her hooves maneuvering her through the land slowly, ears twitching in slight dismay at the silence. She tried to be okay with it, really did.
But it always came down to the same fact. A reminder in her aching heart as her pale pink eyes looked up and down the silent and still streets—a silent maiden alone amid the nights.
Valan was simply . . . always lonely.
@Liam
drunk and i'm feeling down
and i just wanna be alone
i'm pissed cause you came around
why don't you just go home
and i just wanna be alone
i'm pissed cause you came around
why don't you just go home
