[Not].//For\\.{You}

[*~Ellieeee~*]

{Heads up to younger readers – there may will be swearing in this thread. If you don’t want to see it, don’t read it.}

This isn’t for you. This isn’t for those who whisper poisoned words, or for those who deny knowing me as soon as my back is turned. This isn’t for those who stare in discus while muttering fake sympathies, or for those who rebuke young ones while insulting me themselves. This isn’t for anyone who says, “I love you.” while thinking “I hate you.” This isn’t for you.

Who, then, is it for? Not the betrayers and the liars. Not the lovers and the haters. Not any of you, or any of them. It’s not for anyone, but against those who have wronged me. They took my friends, they took my family, they took my sight, and they took my soul. So I didn’t go to them. I did the only thing someone as insignificant as myself can do; I chose their enemies.

I don’t know who is right and who is wrong, I don’t care if the world crashes and burns around me, or if a thousand others die, I really don’t care, so long as I get what I want. In the Time of Alliances, I was spat upon. Trodden on, walked all over, and I didn’t even take a side in their pitiful war. All because I’m mauled, mutilated, empty. I’ve seen the worst of equine kind, and the best is little better… But what am I saying? I haven’t seen anything since those razor sharp claws pierced by eyeballs.

Oh, the pain! I hurt all over! My muscles ach from all this walking, my bones will shatter if I fall one more time, my mind, however, is already shattered. I will not last long, but before my nothing-ness consumes my last shred if sanity, I will have my small revenge.

This is not for you. Not for the Gods, not for the Goddesses. Not for the equines who cherish order, not for those who hate chaos. This is not for any dying foal, who is victim to the same horrors as I still am. This is not to stop more death...

This is for myself.

This is my revenge.

This is an equine post.
It is 352 words long.
The character is Nommo.
Muse was OK.

[roo?!]

Nell fumed. It was almost her permanent state of being these days. After word had got around from her latest outbreak she was an official social leper. Again. She hated to admit it, but she was better off when she’d been a light prisoner under the dark regime. The realm and heart had brought nothing but pain to her world, and right now she hated them. Maybe the gods would have been a better choice… she mused bitterly as she strode through knee length grasses. Though I’d doubt they’d take me anyway. A bitter laugh escaped her lips, now she was free, what she had dreamed of for years, yet all she could wish for was to be back in captivity, back when none of this had ever happened.

This was so different from her usually, what little bit of rational thought she had left told Nell she needed to get away, out of the caves and away from the realm’s influence. Or at least as far as she could get. After almost a year in those god forsaken caves, she still had absolutely no control over her powers. None whatsoever. However hard she tried to shape the rock nothing happened, however hard she tried to control the fire there was nothing. Or if there was, it was soon so out of control that it was soon a danger to her and everyone around her.

So they had given up, tired of trying to help her when they knew that all they would get in return was burns and a few sharp words. The realm had done nothing good for Nell, which is why she longed for things to go back to the way that things were. When it was simple.

Nell wanted to get away from the realm, just for a while, usually those dark caves were comforting, the blackness helped her calm down, instead of suffocating her like they had done before. Suddenly she had been attacked by a vicious bout of claustrophobia; she needed to get out some where. So she’d headed to the plains, galloping at her fastest pace to keep her mind off the troubles that had befallen her.

Under the open sky her head seemed to clear a little. The twinkling stars above and the cool breeze relaxed her and she stopped galloping, slowing to a trot, revelling in the open air. The moon over head was bright and shining upon the plains. Taking a few deep breaths she sighed, never could she have thought she would forget the night, the moon or the stars, but after spending a long time underground those things had been wiped from her mind. This is what I need… Time away from the realm, travelling perhaps… Yes, she would travel, perhaps to see the wild, or even the gods’ lands. Even though she was so close to the border, Nell felt better here in the plains, though she credited this mainly to the night and the fresh air rather than the gods.

Looking up at the sky, Nell was reminded that she was fully grown now; she had to deal with her own problems. Maybe seeing the other lands would give her control, she would be grateful for even the smallest bit. After all, she couldn’t get any less could she?

Her trot had now slowed to a walk. On the horizon she began to see the outline of a horse, and she walked towards it, more aimlessly now, than anything, absorbed in her thoughts and thinking to much to really notice much.


OOC;; I sudenly found a lot of muse I needed to vent... =D It anded up more angsty than I intended (in the middle anyway) and... -drumrolls- 601 words!!! That's the longest I've done ever I think

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[*~Ellieeee~*]

Have you ever lived in darkness for more than one day? A darkness where there is no light, not even a slithers or a glint in the distance. How long could you last? A week? A month? If you could last longer, wouldn’t you begin to crave the light more then anything else, just because it’s being denied to you? It would hurt like hell, and probably so much more. A weak person would die in less than a year, a strong one might last longer, but they would be changed forever. And when they come into the sun, blinking and squinting, it would burn their eyes away, after so long in the dark…

No, you moron, I’m not jabbering on with some transparent metaphor about the whole bloody light/dark war. People give it too much credit – they say it was the best (or worst) thing that has happened ever! Idiots. I’m not going to moan on, telling you what you already know. I’m talking about something far worse that captivity, or repression, or persecution. I’m talking about a literal darkness. Oh don’t look so shocked (not that I can see you, but I know you are!). I’m blind, but once I could see.

It wasn’t so long ago that I don’t remember the colours of the world. I can still imagine them, though it’s slipping out of my mind faster than sand through a sieve. A sieve with a massive rip in it. Those who can still see don’t know what they’ve got. They ruin it by staring at the sun, yet they can still see. I never did anything to deserve this disability, yet I am the some with it. I hear all those bastards out there, and they should all be feeling my pain. But no. The only one who has my pain is me. Bitter, twisted…

Bah! I hate them all for it. And I hate nature for making it that way. Why should I suffer so that some little wolves can eat? It’s not fair, and it’s a stupid godforsaken system. They wanted to change it, but the rigid discipline that they require is no better. It’s like they want to crush the individuality out…

Hoof beats.

They were thudding towards me, the four beat rhythm alerting me that they were walking. A long breath drew on the scents of the air and through the heavy atmosphere (a storm a storm must be brewing overhead) I could just distinguish the sweet smell of a femme.

“What?”

I snapped at her, not is the mood to indulge in pleasant conversation. If she’d have caught me on a good day I might have enticed her, but like the clouds churning above, today I was restless and angry. And like a colt in a strop, I just wanted to be left along to brood over my unwarranted fate.



Occ;;
This is an equine post.
It is 480 words long.
The character is Nommo.
Muse was OK/bad.
I don't like the post really. He's having a bit of a strop, if I'm honnest. lol

[roo?!]

A glance up at the sky showed a mass of broiling clouds, where only a few minutes earlier had been a clear sky showing the stars. The change made Nell feel better, the clouds were so beautiful after a year of amongst the caves. It was strange, but she had missed these above all. They were so atmospheric, so… unpredictable. A sprawling cloud could contain, snow hail or sleet, or it could just carry on, dropping no precipitation whatsoever. They added texture to the sky, blue or not, and they were just right tonight.

A light breeze blew through her mane, ruffling her tail. With the clouds, the darkness, and now the wind, the whole scene felt like it was building up some huge dramatic climax. In a moment the thunder would sound, deep and booming, and the lightening would flash in a spectacular show of power and strength. Or at least that was what it felt like.

As her eyes fell down from the sky and focused on things a little closer, she spotted the lone figure again and wondered what he was doing out here on a night like this. She was vaguely aware of her trespassing on the Foirfe lands, and wondered for a minute if he was some kind of look out or guard. Well he would do well not to try and fight her, things got even more out of control when she was angry or scared. But as she got closer she doubted that this was true, he didn’t look alert at all, and she could neither see nor smell any other horses.

Nell was very close to him now, and she slowed down as she approached. The stag turned his face towards her (he had probably heard her hoof beats) she drew a breath in sharply at the sight of his horrific scars. They stretched all the way across his maw, covering his eyes completely and totally disfiguring his face. The more she looked at them the more her own face started to itch.

“What?”

The word pulled her attention back to his whole being and she lowered her eyes before her imagination started to throw up even more disgusting thoughts. “Nothing” His lyrics were matched with ones that were self assured and hard, even accusing, a tone that Nell had picked up during the last year. “I thought I might try and be friendly for once, but it seems that I should have gone elsewhere.” A rumble of thunder echoed far in the distance, but Nell ignored it. Her words had been true, she had been prepared to try out her new found patience with this horse, but now it looked like that approach was down the drain. “I guess you’re too bitter to even talk to me.”

---

OOC;; sorry, this is complete & utter crap, but it's better than nothing right? Sorry for the wait aswell...

[*~Ellieeee~*]

What is the point of even trying to be nice? Everyone in the world is selfish, and wants only to make themselves happy. Even those who claim that they do good for others, not them are selfish in their own way: doing that good makes them happy, so really they are doing it for them. In the same way, there is no such thing as a selfless good deed – can you think of any? The world is full of self-centred and ignorant people, so I won’t even try to be nice to them.

In my hour of need, I was shunned from normal society. Abandoned. Alone. What the hell was I supposed to do? I was just a disfigured colt (I really was still a colt, though I has seen three summers pass) and no one cared enough to help me. Mothers scolded their young for poking fun at me, while insisting that they should stay away from me. And I don’t blame them for not wanting their foals to be infected by my eternal pessimism and cynicism. But I can’t help it if I see the worse in people – it is only what they showed me when I was scared and vulnerable.

An involuntary shiver rippled through my torso, though it had nothing to do with the reminiscences or the femme standing before me. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, quivering under the pressure – a storm was brewing. Any second now and it would –

A whiplash sharp crack smashed the silence to pieces. That was the lightning. Purely out of habit, I counted the second between the lightning and the thunder. I’m sure that silly tradition had saved my life several times when I had wandered too close to the storm and didn’t know how close I was to the deadly lightning. But this time I didn’t need to - the thunder come almost instantly. For a second after the roaring had omitted, there was silence – waiting, descending. And then the rain hit. Louder in my ears than the thunder, and as cold as it was possible to be before it turned to ice, it thudded onto my back, freezing to my skin. Oh faithful hypothermia, you’ll be here soon.
This was great. I didn’t know where there was shelter, and I’ll be dammed if ‘m going to ask for help. Especially from a mare! Just go on as f nothing has happened . An old routine that I use whenever I sense the horrified stares that I know I attract.

“What’s it to you if I’m a twisted old bastard?”

Ha! She had probably never seen anyone with a scar in her sorry little life. These Foirfe had no idea what pain is like. Oh, they say they know pain, but those bloody Gods would shield them from even the thorns on a rose if they could. Pathetic. Truly pathetic.

Occ;; 494 words. I thought I didn't have muse, but I had some once I got going. ;D

[roo?!]

What must it be like? To be blind, but not only that, to be disfigured in the most horrible way she could imagine. Not to be able to see the stares that you attract, to know that all over people must be talking and laughing at you, but not being able to see them, or even know for sure that they were doing it. Nell barely known this stag for five minutes, but already she could see that he had compensated his sight by becoming, in his own words, a twisted bastard. But what choice did he have? Things that you could not control were the hardest things to bear, and she would guess any day that he did not control the way that those scars had been put on his face. Things that world did to you, things that happened by chance, they were nearly always horrible and soul destroying. These were the things that people blamed on the gods. They dwelt on their misery and nursed their hatred as carefully as a newly born foal.

Not that she could pretend to be innocent however, to this very day she nursed her own hatred of the realm, the thing which had brought such change into her life, change for the worse. She had her own scars, burns on her legs, mostly, from her various outbursts of flame. Nothing as serious as the male in front of her, the majority would fade in time, but the thing that caused those scars still lived on. A huge scar on her life which would never, ever, heal. How could she forgive the realm? The answer – she couldn't, and neither did she want to. No, she took care of her grudge with deadly looks and a set jaw. Over the past year she had changed in so many ways. Gone was the almost carefree Nell who taunted the guards, though she never been innocent, this Nell was thoroughly hardened by life and misfortune. She had learned, her hatred eating through her like a hungry beast, hollowing her out like the huge caverns in which she lived.

The lightening struck without warning, and the thunder soon after. The momentous climax was over, made all too clear by the jolting rain which came down in huge, fat drops and splattered all over her body. She was glad of the rain, for moment Nell had realised exactly where she was. In a field of grass, grass that if set alight, would burn like no one’s business, with a lightening storm going on around her. All it took was a spark… She shook her head, the rain was her saviour today, though it might not stay that way, it was night after all, and getting hypothermia was all that she needed right now.

“Not much, to be honest.” Her reply had the same biting tone to it; it's words were sharp and clear, hopefully telling the stag that she wasn’t a mare to mess with. Not that she was afraid of a fight. She didn’t fancy her chances, but she wasn’t scared. “It’s none of my business what you decide to be, whether it’s a twisted bastard or not. I was just trying to make conversation, and as I suspected, you're to wrapped up in you're own self pity.” Nell could hear her innner voices screaming hypocrite at her, but right now she didn't care. She was too wrapped up in anger.

---

OOC;; 585 words, haha I beat you =P I have lots of muse for Nell at the moment... And this thread is turning out to be really fun =D

[*~Ellieeee~*]

Is there no end for me? I have struggled; I have tried to submit to the will of the world and to be a good horse, despite his mutilation. But had he succeeded? No. I am just a bastard. But what had made me like this? The scars? Maybe, but wasn’t I a nice little foal once, a precious colt who was loved? Yet here I am. Falling down a hole, and dragging others with me whenever I grab them to pull me back up; they don’t have the strength to pull me back from the edge, although I have already fallen over it. How long before, with a sickening crunch, I hit the bottom?

Where is the bottom? The Gods call it hell, The Thall and the Saoirse call it the Gods, but none of them are right, especially the Gods. I don’t know where the bottom is, but I know that it’s not death, or order, or anarchy for that matter. Here’s something though: will I know when I have reached the end? Maybe I am already there, but I’m just such a pessimist that I think it can still get worse. If I though that it couldn’t get worse than this, then I might be being optimistic, and then it could get worse, because I could stop thinking things weren’t that bad and think that they were going to get worse.

That, truly, makes no sense Nommo. You are losing you’re mind, mate.

Now I’m taking to myself. Oh joy. What happened to make me like this? I blame the Realm and that thrice blasted Heart. But when I think of it, I can blame them all I want and nothing will change. So hopefully the Gods can change things, so I’ll stake my life on their cards. Not because I want to, but because it’s better than the alternatives. Another think that irritates me, is that, no matter how hard I try, I can’t blame the Heart or the Realm for the way I turned out: they didn’t make me do this. So really, was I always like this, and the attack just brought it out?

That though terrified me above all others. I had been a normal colt, hadn’t I? I had loved like a normal colt! I had played, like a normal colt! Of course I had. There must be some other explanation for this. There really must, because I was NOT like this before, was I?

Another infuriating thing was twittering in my ears.

“And? What’s your point?”

She really was quite annoying. But then, I find everyone who is still whole irksome. And she is a picture of what I don’t have any more. No more do I speak to people just for the hell of it – they’re not worth it.

“Look. I’m not one of those nice people who you’ve probably spent you’re whole life talking to inconsequentially. So why don’t you just totter off? People are all s|hit, deal with it.”

Do I feel guilty about fouling her la–di-da view of the world? No. If she can’t handle it, it’s her problem, not mine. It’s time the world started opening their eyes.

OCC;; 565, but it's a crap post anyway. Just ignore most of it, he's still moaning. It really doesn't sound like him.

[roo?!]

She hardly felt the rain beating on her body, or the wind whistling in her ears; though in the back of her mind she was sure that these things were somehow important. She could see the grass all around her in the meadow streaming in the howling wind which had long since grown from a pleasant breeze. But she barely acknowledged the biting chill or the fat raindrops which it blew onto her. Her body was full of reckless anger, a build up of the past few months probably, and with nowhere else to direct it, she funnelled it straight to the stag.

“Look. I’m not one of those nice people who you’ve probably spent you’re whole life talking to inconsequentially. So why don’t you just totter off? People are all sh|t, deal with it.”

There were a lot of things that Nell despised in this world. One was the Realm of death. Another was having her stupid abilities. Being told what to do, people underestimating her and being patronised were high up there too. The stag seemed to be doing all three of those things, and her uncontrollable rage took over. Nell’s reply this time was biting, she let all the irritation she could muster flow into it and as a result it was dripping with a venom and anger. “Ha! You think I’ve spent all my life talking to nice people!” It was statement, almost as powerful as the narrowed eyes that she glared at him, not caring that he couldn’t see. “You think you’re the only one who’s ever had something bad happen to them! You think that just because you’ve had it bad, everyone else must have had a bloody fabulous life! Well you’re wrong. And I’m not going to totter off; I already know that people are shit, that this whole life is shit, especially when it throws up ignorant little people like you. So just bugger off and take your stupid pity and self-suffering away from me before you get hurt.” If he couldn’t tell that she had been furious before, then he certainly could now. Not even a seasoned professional could ignore that little outburst.

Now that she had begun, Nell couldn’t seem to get her mouth to stop, it seemed like her brain had taken a back seat and was just letting her feelings control her whole body. “Go away! Just pop off back to the gods, or the realm, or wherever you come from and never come back!” Lightening struck nearby, a wonderful fork that illuminated the whole bizarre scene, with oddly perfect timing. But Nell felt her mind slip, ever so slightly, in that horribly familiar way. She spun wildly to face where the lightening had been, there had been a spark there, she was sure, but she could see nothing and she couldn’t feel the fire in her mind like she usually could when this happened. She could hope, wildly, that she hadn't done anything, and that if she had it had soon been extinguished by the rain.

---

OOC;; Well I thought the thread needed some more action ^^ It's not as long as the others though. I hope this goes somewhere interesting... =D She's used her powers at the end, if that's not clear.

[*~Ellieeee~*]

Defeat. Six letters, two syllables, three vowels. Nothing harmless there, yet the meaning behind the word puts the fear of God into my soul. Not that I have a soul anymore. It’s lying abandoned somewhere on the wayside. But that is not the point. The point is that the one thing that I will not stand for is to be defeated. Never again. When I was disfigured, they had conquered my soul and I swore that I would never, NEVER be taken over in that way again. If never being defeated means never letting anyone in, never letting anyone get close and repelling them before they have even spoken, then so be it. Because if you make yourself venerable like that it’s easier for them to break you down. Again.

It’s funny how you can see your refection in the most unlikely of places. Even I, the blinded bastard have now seen my very own refection. And I don’t like it. Not one bloody bit of it. I can see it all, and I hate it! No, I despise it. I loathe it… How did it come to this? Why did that epiphany strike me down now? It was that silly little mare and her bloody, fucking truths. She spoke the god-dammed reality of my life, and she said it so that I can’t ignore her, nor can I ignore what a shit life I am living. I can’t even call it a life.

I have been able to deflect people telling me that I need to sort myself out, but that’s all right for them: they have never suffered like I have. But this Nell… She had suffered too. No, don’t get any ideas. I don’t think she’s a kindred spirit or any of that crap. She’s just… The same… No, I don’t like her in any way you can think of, just as I don’t like myself. And hearing it from someone who has been through the same just makes it seem so… real. Like I can’t ignore it.

“Hurt! You think I care about getting fucking hurt?! I’ll tell you something, sunshine: I am already hurting more that you can imagine. You know why? Because I HAD a bloody fabulous life! I talked to nice people, I WAS nice, I WAS happy!”

Look at that, still fighting back. My voice had risen, but the crack of lighting – obviously close by – forced me silent. Despite my realisations, I would not be beaten. I would not let it go, or pop of, as she so eloquently put it. A part of me was screaming that I show just let it go, that this wouldn’t end well. But another part - one that wasn’t louder, but one I was more used to listening to – was refusing to let me give in.

“And then the illusion was shattered. And I ended up in this bloody world where I know that everyone is shit. And I know that it will never end, because there is always more shit just around the corner.”

This time I was not yelling, but my voice was still filled with anger and bitter regret. Nothing I could do about that. I could hear it penetrating every lyric. Yet I couldn’t feel the pain it usually brought. It was detached, like the voice belonged to someone else.

“But you knew that, didn’t you?”

---

Occ;; Wow, I acculally like it. That's unusual. I like where this thread is going, even if there are lots of profanities. Lol. It's not realistic for him not to be swearing, but I did think I should put a warning at the top.

[roo?!]

The rain beat down on her body, flattening her coat and mane and making little shivers run up and down her spine. The wind and rain would keep on like this, it seemed, until the poor and lonely figures trapped beneath its dark clouds broke down and collapsed. It would wear away their will and sap their strength until there was nothing left. It would feed upon their spirit like they would a piece of sweet grass and then it would move away to search for more victims, leaving only a pair of battered corpses to show for the life that had been there. This was the fancy that came on Nell, as her anger drained away and she was left shivering in the storm with no hot liquid left to fill her veins as there had been before.

She felt like sagging and lying down now. There was no passion left in her to argue, but she tried in vain to summon some of her former rage. “Yes! I knew that, and I still know it. So maybe you should go and… Go and make someone else more miserable… instead if me.” Her tone, like that of the stags was one of bitter reflection, her anger well and truly gone. You are the same, exactly the same. This is what you ARE Nell, a bitter, twisted fool who hates everything around you. She shook her head, trying to drown out her inner voices. There were a thousand things different between her and this old stag!

But however much she told herself, she knew deep down they were. That was what hurt the most. It ripped a hole in her chest, a deep void in her heart. To be faced with what you really are, in such a horrible way was truly terrible. A sob made its way out her mouth, and she took a deep breath, cursing herself. Now she was stupid little cry baby as well; wasn’t it bad enough that she was a bitter old crone inside? Why couldn’t she just be strong and accept it? Do something about it?

What had happened to her good mood? She reminded herself of the optimism she had felt before. She was meant to be travelling, taking a brake from it all. For gods sake! Why couldn’t she just be normal? Slowly, with dee breaths, she began to feel better. Slowly. "It doesn't have to be like that." The words were quiet, and she wasn't even sure if Nommo would here them over the sound of the storm. "It can... change. At least, I hope it can. If you hope..."She trailed off, all too aware of how soppy that sounded. "I mean, if you keep dwelling on it, it will always be there." But how could he forget? The huge scars accross his face would always be there. At least her powers didn't manifest contantly.

But she was tired, she felt the wind whipping at her energy and in the dakness she couldn't think of anything else to say that might make the stag better.

---

OOC;; She has a lot of mood swings... lol, I think she has PMS ^.^ But anyway, I finally posted, and it's a bit rubbish but hey ho. Sorry it took so long -_-

[*~Ellieeee~*]

I can’t do this any more…

I don’t want to be here any longer. I can’t do this any more, can’t be the reason why we hurt everywhere. All this time I’ve been saying about the monstrosity that has been growing inside me, fighting it, running from it. But I never realised that there wasn’t anything inside me; the thing was me all along! All this time I’ve been waging war on the emptiness without realising that the more I skirmished it, the weaker I became. Only moments ago I was lamenting the unfairness of the whole bloody situation, but now I understand. This twisted, bitter, haunted bastard that I have become was always inside me, just waiting to raise its ugly head… my ugly head.

Ha! If you have never seen my broken façade before you have no idea how appropriate that is. The Scars that ravage my face and my sight have also ravaged my mind. Wounds like mind are not just skin deep; they penetrate into the deepest, darkest crevices of the soul, revealing the backbone of who we are. For the longest time I refused to accept that this is me, coupled with the heartbreaking loss of my vision.

I am scared.

But here I am again. Mourning what I cannot change and what I deserve, if not when it occurred, then now. I must not let myself slip into that pattern bereavement, for that is resistance: weak resistance to what I am, but resistance nonetheless. I will not defy myself. I will not fight my nature. I will not; I will not, not now, not ever, not for all my life. That is what I pledge to do from this moment on, if I can.

But look at me! Insisting that I will do something that you and I both know can’t be done by me in this sorry state. What I need is to keep my mind occupied, prevent mutinous thoughts enter my mind. Every step I take, every breath I breathe, every mouthful of grass must be pondered, if not then I can feel myself building walls around my mind. Why must I not resist? Because when I hind behind my ramparts I am scared. I feared the so-called ‘emptiness’ above anything else in thing life, or death, which ever is the truth of it. Whenever I can’t see it (yes, I get the irony thanks) I fear it, like younglings are frightened by shadows.

I no longer dread the night like I once did; I live my life in darkness now. However I will start to steadily crawl out of the metaphorical version, but I can see it is a long, slippery slope. To reach the top I need help, the help of a goal. Something else is needed to get me to the top, other than the fear of what lies below. Motivation, a purpose, a reason to go on, other than trepidation.

A grey silhouette against a monochrome sky?

So here I stand: a grey silhouette against a monochrome sky (or so I imagine). I am here because I need a purpose: I will join the militia of the Foirfe nation (if there isn’t one, I will create it!), though I have never really been loyal. I came to them in spite, but though I am not loyal, I will pour my effort into it. This sudden stroke of inspiration has enlightened me. I will be the greatest soldier the Gods have ever seen!

Is that really what I want? You know, I really can’t tell you any more. Will murder take me back into that dark stagnant pit from which I have only recently emerged? Or is it not murder if it for my divinities? If anyone is to feel guilty it is those who order me to kill. Speaking of guilt…

“Hope won’t get you anywhere. It serves only to be shattered.”

Now for the moment of truth. Would I acknowledge that it was Nell who brought about my newly found momentum, or just leave her by the wayside. Can I really do this by myself? Of course I can – not since the deformities have I acquired.

“Life’s shit, hey?”

Just one thought before I go: I don’t really want to be the spear point of this war we are raging. I just need a purpose, something to fight for, and something to distract me. And if it hurts others life I have been hurt, so much better for me, and so much worse for them.

OCC;;
Character: Nommo
Words: 750 ish
Notes: I actually really like this post overall, even though some bits are a little blah. I re-wrote the last bit from a different post. The original was much more dramatic, but I think that was because of the situation. He’s sort of had an idea, and is being weird about it. I don’t know if anything will accually come of it. Sorry if I didn’t give you much to go on.

[roo?!]

Hope only serves to be shattered. At the moment, amidst the rain and the thunder, Nell felt as if that statement was perfectly justifiable. It was no use hoping that her ‘gift’ would go away, because it wouldn’t. Just like there was no use hoping for the sky to fall or the sea to swallow the land. These things just didn’t happen. It was the same as hoping for the summer, or for the snows to go away. They would happen regardless, no matter if you hoped for them or not.

What you hoped for was the uncertain things. Things that could go either way. She hoped for a better life, because it was possible. She hoped for (though she was dubious) better control over the fire, because it could hardly get any worse. So, he was wrong. Hope serves to be the light at the end of the tunnel, the thing you hold on to when all else disappears. If your hopes are shattered, you form new ones. Even if they don’t realise it, everyone hopes for something. Even this seemingly angry shell of a stallion does.

She opened her mouth to say this, or something along those lines, but he cut her off. “Life’s shit, hey?” She found herself nodding absent mindedly, before she remembered that he couldn’t see her. “Yeah…” She wasn’t sure if he even heard the word, but it wasn’t all that important anyway.

The rain beat down on her momentarily harder for second, snapping her out of her day dream. It reminded her of how tired she was, how cold her body was under all that wet fur. She needed a place to rest, they’d been standing in this storm for too long anyway, and although it looked like it was abating a little, she guessed that the rain would still carry on for a good hour or so more. “Do you know a place where we can take shelter? This storm doesn’t seem to be going anywhere fast.” The sudden change of subject relaxed Nell a bit. It was practical, physical things she was best at, and she was much happier talking about this than the various defects of life, though she had experienced most of them.

She guessed that Nommo lived around here, or had at least spent more time in the area than she had, and that even though he was blind, he would know a relatively place for them to rest. She didn’t fancy going back to the caves for more than one reason, not least because it would take a while to get back there. Her mind flicked back to the circumstances she’d left the realm’s head quarters in of its own accord and she winced mentally at the memory. She’d been extremely angry, fire bursting out of control everywhere she looked, winding herself up even more as she realised she couldn’t stop it.

It was a catch 22. The more wound up and angry she got the more fire she created. The more fire there was, the more she got scared and angry at herself, so the more fire she created and the more she got angry… In the end, she had to flee, to run away like a coward; but then again, what else could she do? Well, at least there’s no chance of that now… She mused; the rain was her friend in that way.

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OOC;; I though this was going to be rubbish, but it turned out quite nicely ^^ 584 words. Sorry I didn't give that much to reply to =/