Post by Tigeress on Aug 24, 2007 14:25:56 GMT -5
She had been the diamond in the rough her mother had hoped for, sparkling gold eyes a rarity for one born in Torquehelm, smiling and mischevious from the moment of birth. No one could explain how she had escaped it, the stifling sense of hopelessness that drifted over the land like an ever-present mist. Somehow, she had just taught herself to see the light in the darkness, and always walk towards it. Her father resented her optimism, and her natural ability.
She was born with a bipedal form, she didn't have to do anything to earn it. This marked her even more special than her eyes, she would go somewhere and be someone. Like the wings on her back might suggest, she was an angel, though age would show a bit of a twisted nature one would have thought uncommon for the young one. At her mother's request, and with the knowledge of Torquehelm's history, she bound herself willingly. Young enough to be unsure of what to do, she allowed her father to help her with her bindings while her mother attempted to coax her brother into it. Or force, whichever worked out in the end. At this age she had only two bindings, the rope around her muzzle, and enchanted handcuffs that her father had managed to procure from... somewhere.
"Why would you bind her mouth? Will she not be able to speak? Nobody will pay her any mind if she cannot speak for herself!" Kurasa rarely ever showed anger at her family, in fact, she rarely showed or said anything at all. Her husband, Tsunet was usually the first to show any sort of rage, which was often enough to silence her.
"She has more to offer than her voice, much more, let her learn how to use them better to her advantage. Lack of voice will make her rely on them more, and we will see if she has what it takes." Practically sneering at the curious golden eyes, he stormed off in the other direction, leaving the small femme to poke and prod at the chains and rope which now bound her. "Wll's hlp?" She had to repeat herself twice before her mother could understand what it was she had been asking, but when she did, it brought tears to the older feline's eyes. Syraelia didn't understand why her question created such emotion, but she eagerly awaited a response anyway.
"Of course it will help, darling." She cooed, bringing her daughter closer to her. Behind her, clinging to the shadows around him, her son watched with a submissive jealousy that continued to eat him from the inside. He was older, but because he had less potential, he didn't matter. Father hated her, which was nice, but only because he was jealous, too. Father hated him as well, because he had a bipedal form, though not much else. He was a mere Two, barely enough to be considered worth anything. 'At least I'm not an Ace' he often sneered to himself. She was a Five, which meant she at least had a place to start from. There were things better than Five, of course, but also things worse. He knew this well.
Turning slowly back towards his room, he wasn't even aware of the golden eyes which followed him. She may have been young, but she had a talent for knowing things. She knew she was the source of his pain, and she had to do something about it. As soon as her mother left, she eagerly sprinted into her brother's room, spotting him lying in a ball, empty eyes starting at nothing. "Hhhey." She had just begun moving her mouth around to try and experiment with the ropes, seeing where she could stretch them to allow a bit more room for talking. He seemed shocked as he looked at her, realizing now where her bindings were, and being somewhat surprised obviously. Mother had tied his hands across his chest, making him ever useless for labour. Apparently father had it out for both of them, trying to cripple them more than nature already had. Though, nature hadn't done much to Syraelia that was worth complaining about, that had been saved for her brother.
"Well look at you." He snorted, oblivious to the softness in her eyes, the blatant concern, and a deep shimmering of knowledge deeper than he would have ever expected. She knew how his heart ached, and how his mind fought with him, too honest to ever be a friend. Her presence had been meant to soothe, perhaps they could talk it out and rewrite the ending to the tragedy. It all depended on him, and his eyes showed clearly that his heart was not, and never would be, in it. "You should go. Mother's having guests over to admire you, your new bindings. Maybe you'll lift the curse, wonder child." Unspoken words rang out in the silence, 'But it will be too late for me.' letting her piece together the parts that still had remained hazy. She would never know her brother, not really, he had avoided her like the plague since she'd turned one. Eleven years of being on the outside looking in, and he'd thought he'd been the lonely one. Though she'd never really felt lonely, too caught up in his pain to think of her own.
There would be plenty of time for that later. Her mouth moved to form the words that would never be heard, as her mother's voice stole them away in a shrill, excited call for her to come and pretty herself. Ashranna was a 9 of Spades, a good friend of her mothers, with a few good connections that she had always wished for access to. Now with her darling daughter, she would show them she belonged with them, because he daughter was destined for big things, bigger than even them. Yes, tonight she would show them. Syraelia's birth, or rather, the fact that she had been born with a bipedal form, had served no other purpose, really. Sure, her mother loved her, but in a way that one loved a winning lottery ticket. It wasn't the same, she had just come to accept that at least someone was watching her. They never watched him. Turning, and feeling regret pull at her like strings on a puppet, she tried her best not to think about what tonight would be like. A few more years and she would be gone, she wanted to explore, to see everything that was out there. She would do it alone, however.
Hours passed in waiting, though dinner was still warm by the time exclamations of 'Oh my! What a darling.' could be heard. They were never this happy on their own, she'd seen them, watched them. But they kissed and hugged now and laughed, touched her and petted her. They talked and ate and planned, plotted together for a life that was not theirs to control. But it was fine, they didn't know a thing about her and so her escape would be easily made. She'd planned it out earlier this year and would surely add the necessary modifications when she was a little bit older.
A thud from upstairs didn't draw any attention from anyone else, but it was somehow a signal she'd been waiting for. Her chest was not tight, her breath was not held as she walked up the stairs. She had settled into a peaceful calm that held her tight as she rounded the corner and opened the door. Her eyes were neither soft nor wet, but hard and understanding with a hint of anger. She would keep those eyes, the ones that were created by viewing the dead body of her brother. The childish, innocent shine was worn out in under a second, years too fast. No sound did she make as the familiar coal black feet dangled above the ground, the note sitting beside him was the only thing she changed about the scene, grabbing it up and reading it as she stood in the room. They wouldn't be found, not for some time. The dinner had just barely hit the halfway point, she knew this from the last visit.
Mother, Father
I'm sure the knowledge of my death comes as a relief to you, or perhaps, you have been so oblivious that it will come as a surprise. Whichever the case, I suppose I have done you a favour in removing such a stain from your gene pool. How a Five and a Seven could produce such a waste of breath is a mystery to me, also. Don't fool yourself in thinking you're the only ones to know grief over my existance, I knew far more than you ever will. I knew what it was like to watch someone live the life I could have had, the best life I could have hoped for would be a shadow of my father's. Clinging to a mate whose love has given way to obsession with power, knowing that she will obtain it far, far before I... because I chose her for her power too. The truth hurts, doesn't it? I know father, you face it as much as I have faced the truths about my existance. In a way, we are pitifully similar. I'm sorry mother, that I could never be a shining star to match Syraelia. I'm sorry too, that I allowed you both to make me hate her out of jealousy. She was the only one to ever love me, even if it was out of pity, at least it was something.
Someday, if you have it in your selfish hearts to care or remember, let her know I appreciated that love, and this was not her fault. I think everything else goes without saying.
There were no terms of endearment, no signature, but that was to be expected. Though she knew his words were true, somehow she couldn't bring herself to leave the note sitting there in plain sight, and so tucking it away, she walked back downstairs, with the same apathetic, but pleasant expression on her face. Lost in thought, it was all she could do to search for the silver lining. Re-reading a part of the note in her head, she paused at the bottom of the stairs. He had mentioned love... 'He heard me after all...' it brought a smile to her face to know the words that she thought had gone unnoticed had meant the difference, though he had still done what he origionally intended. In that moment he had finally figured it all out, sifted through the emotional turmoil and found the truth, and more importantly, he knew he'd been loved. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to be loved by someone else, because he knew he could never love himself.
yay for usable backstory/history
hope it wasn't too emo, but... y'know, Torquehelm, kiiind of emo-maker place XD.
She was born with a bipedal form, she didn't have to do anything to earn it. This marked her even more special than her eyes, she would go somewhere and be someone. Like the wings on her back might suggest, she was an angel, though age would show a bit of a twisted nature one would have thought uncommon for the young one. At her mother's request, and with the knowledge of Torquehelm's history, she bound herself willingly. Young enough to be unsure of what to do, she allowed her father to help her with her bindings while her mother attempted to coax her brother into it. Or force, whichever worked out in the end. At this age she had only two bindings, the rope around her muzzle, and enchanted handcuffs that her father had managed to procure from... somewhere.
"Why would you bind her mouth? Will she not be able to speak? Nobody will pay her any mind if she cannot speak for herself!" Kurasa rarely ever showed anger at her family, in fact, she rarely showed or said anything at all. Her husband, Tsunet was usually the first to show any sort of rage, which was often enough to silence her.
"She has more to offer than her voice, much more, let her learn how to use them better to her advantage. Lack of voice will make her rely on them more, and we will see if she has what it takes." Practically sneering at the curious golden eyes, he stormed off in the other direction, leaving the small femme to poke and prod at the chains and rope which now bound her. "Wll's hlp?" She had to repeat herself twice before her mother could understand what it was she had been asking, but when she did, it brought tears to the older feline's eyes. Syraelia didn't understand why her question created such emotion, but she eagerly awaited a response anyway.
"Of course it will help, darling." She cooed, bringing her daughter closer to her. Behind her, clinging to the shadows around him, her son watched with a submissive jealousy that continued to eat him from the inside. He was older, but because he had less potential, he didn't matter. Father hated her, which was nice, but only because he was jealous, too. Father hated him as well, because he had a bipedal form, though not much else. He was a mere Two, barely enough to be considered worth anything. 'At least I'm not an Ace' he often sneered to himself. She was a Five, which meant she at least had a place to start from. There were things better than Five, of course, but also things worse. He knew this well.
Turning slowly back towards his room, he wasn't even aware of the golden eyes which followed him. She may have been young, but she had a talent for knowing things. She knew she was the source of his pain, and she had to do something about it. As soon as her mother left, she eagerly sprinted into her brother's room, spotting him lying in a ball, empty eyes starting at nothing. "Hhhey." She had just begun moving her mouth around to try and experiment with the ropes, seeing where she could stretch them to allow a bit more room for talking. He seemed shocked as he looked at her, realizing now where her bindings were, and being somewhat surprised obviously. Mother had tied his hands across his chest, making him ever useless for labour. Apparently father had it out for both of them, trying to cripple them more than nature already had. Though, nature hadn't done much to Syraelia that was worth complaining about, that had been saved for her brother.
"Well look at you." He snorted, oblivious to the softness in her eyes, the blatant concern, and a deep shimmering of knowledge deeper than he would have ever expected. She knew how his heart ached, and how his mind fought with him, too honest to ever be a friend. Her presence had been meant to soothe, perhaps they could talk it out and rewrite the ending to the tragedy. It all depended on him, and his eyes showed clearly that his heart was not, and never would be, in it. "You should go. Mother's having guests over to admire you, your new bindings. Maybe you'll lift the curse, wonder child." Unspoken words rang out in the silence, 'But it will be too late for me.' letting her piece together the parts that still had remained hazy. She would never know her brother, not really, he had avoided her like the plague since she'd turned one. Eleven years of being on the outside looking in, and he'd thought he'd been the lonely one. Though she'd never really felt lonely, too caught up in his pain to think of her own.
There would be plenty of time for that later. Her mouth moved to form the words that would never be heard, as her mother's voice stole them away in a shrill, excited call for her to come and pretty herself. Ashranna was a 9 of Spades, a good friend of her mothers, with a few good connections that she had always wished for access to. Now with her darling daughter, she would show them she belonged with them, because he daughter was destined for big things, bigger than even them. Yes, tonight she would show them. Syraelia's birth, or rather, the fact that she had been born with a bipedal form, had served no other purpose, really. Sure, her mother loved her, but in a way that one loved a winning lottery ticket. It wasn't the same, she had just come to accept that at least someone was watching her. They never watched him. Turning, and feeling regret pull at her like strings on a puppet, she tried her best not to think about what tonight would be like. A few more years and she would be gone, she wanted to explore, to see everything that was out there. She would do it alone, however.
Hours passed in waiting, though dinner was still warm by the time exclamations of 'Oh my! What a darling.' could be heard. They were never this happy on their own, she'd seen them, watched them. But they kissed and hugged now and laughed, touched her and petted her. They talked and ate and planned, plotted together for a life that was not theirs to control. But it was fine, they didn't know a thing about her and so her escape would be easily made. She'd planned it out earlier this year and would surely add the necessary modifications when she was a little bit older.
A thud from upstairs didn't draw any attention from anyone else, but it was somehow a signal she'd been waiting for. Her chest was not tight, her breath was not held as she walked up the stairs. She had settled into a peaceful calm that held her tight as she rounded the corner and opened the door. Her eyes were neither soft nor wet, but hard and understanding with a hint of anger. She would keep those eyes, the ones that were created by viewing the dead body of her brother. The childish, innocent shine was worn out in under a second, years too fast. No sound did she make as the familiar coal black feet dangled above the ground, the note sitting beside him was the only thing she changed about the scene, grabbing it up and reading it as she stood in the room. They wouldn't be found, not for some time. The dinner had just barely hit the halfway point, she knew this from the last visit.
Mother, Father
I'm sure the knowledge of my death comes as a relief to you, or perhaps, you have been so oblivious that it will come as a surprise. Whichever the case, I suppose I have done you a favour in removing such a stain from your gene pool. How a Five and a Seven could produce such a waste of breath is a mystery to me, also. Don't fool yourself in thinking you're the only ones to know grief over my existance, I knew far more than you ever will. I knew what it was like to watch someone live the life I could have had, the best life I could have hoped for would be a shadow of my father's. Clinging to a mate whose love has given way to obsession with power, knowing that she will obtain it far, far before I... because I chose her for her power too. The truth hurts, doesn't it? I know father, you face it as much as I have faced the truths about my existance. In a way, we are pitifully similar. I'm sorry mother, that I could never be a shining star to match Syraelia. I'm sorry too, that I allowed you both to make me hate her out of jealousy. She was the only one to ever love me, even if it was out of pity, at least it was something.
Someday, if you have it in your selfish hearts to care or remember, let her know I appreciated that love, and this was not her fault. I think everything else goes without saying.
There were no terms of endearment, no signature, but that was to be expected. Though she knew his words were true, somehow she couldn't bring herself to leave the note sitting there in plain sight, and so tucking it away, she walked back downstairs, with the same apathetic, but pleasant expression on her face. Lost in thought, it was all she could do to search for the silver lining. Re-reading a part of the note in her head, she paused at the bottom of the stairs. He had mentioned love... 'He heard me after all...' it brought a smile to her face to know the words that she thought had gone unnoticed had meant the difference, though he had still done what he origionally intended. In that moment he had finally figured it all out, sifted through the emotional turmoil and found the truth, and more importantly, he knew he'd been loved. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to be loved by someone else, because he knew he could never love himself.
yay for usable backstory/history
hope it wasn't too emo, but... y'know, Torquehelm, kiiind of emo-maker place XD. 
Aaaah! It's like the perfect Torquehelm family! Geez, you caught that well O__o Her poor bro...sucked to be him...as evidenced, I suppose. Very well done, I must say *Throws points at yeh XD* I really love this, it makes her character so much more substantial, just guh. Loves it all! Heh, her brother might make a fun ghost or zombie some day XD <3
zombie/ghost Essain! That would be hawt with how I picture him in my head XDD
I feel awful for the brother.
*
