Topic: Reflections

Charna Lyndria

Date: 2005-07-17 01:50 EST
It was late afternoon at Lions Pride, and from her vantage point on her balcony, Charna could watch the sun setting over the pegasi stables. With the day off from work, Kina and the cubs out for the evening, and the cowboy on an extended cattle drive, the vixen found herself with little else to do but relax. A cup of tea in hand, she settled back into her seat and commenced pondering.

Lions Pride was gorgeous in any light. Even in the pitch dark of night, Charna was in awe of the grounds here, especially when she could see the pegasi roaming the fields and grazing. Despite the fact that she'd been coming here for several months now and even considered it to be a second home, the very human and very nonmagical young woman was perpetually fascinated by the place. Before coming to RhyDin, she'd only read about some of these things in fairy tales. It had taken her a while to grow accustomed to the infamous Red Dragon Inn and all it's "interesting" clientele...and now this wonderland? Sometimes she genuinely feared that the lovely, winged beasts she saw trotting about were nothing more than illusions...that this was all just a pretty dream..

And those thoughts were understandable considering her upbringing. In RhyDin, there were a million sob stories, and she'd come to accept that her's was just one more. She came from nowhere, grew up with nothing, was loved by no one, and was hurt by everyone. Why shouldn't she believe that her present, happy living situation was a mere creation of her own lonely imagination? Why shouldn't she be afraid that one day she'd blink and end up right where she'd fled from?

She'd guarded her past fiercely upon entering the foreign city, and shut down even further when she saw how many begged for sympathy from anyone who would spare it. In her opinion, what had been was a matter left only to be discussed with trusted loved ones, people who would use the information to understand you. Not people who would weep crocodile tears and utter 'you poor thing!'

But no, this was a reality. This beautiful life belonged to her, and the daily pinches on her arm helped to remind her of that. This palace was a home...-her- new home.

..Home...Sickening how she had once used that word to describe the dank apartment over her 'Daddy's' tavern, where she inhabited a bedroom that seemed nothing more than a hole in the wall. Although the place had been torched years ago, the establishment still stood erect in her mind. No matter the number of psyche-healers trying to fix her, some things just couldn't be erased completely.

She'd come a long way, though. The terrors and wicked memories from the hellish establishment no longer plagued her daily life.

Only a short span of time was spared to congratulate herself, though, for unfortunately, she was acutely aware of the parts still waiting to be worked on.

She smiled stiffly and gulped down two mouthfuls of the lukewarm tea.

Charna Lyndria

Date: 2005-07-18 04:44 EST
It'd been about ten minutes since she'd both lost interest in the cold drink before her and watched the sun finally disappear on the horizon. By the light of the moon, she could still make out the trees and the stables, but the chill that came along with the sudden darkness goaded her back indoors.

The minute she stepped back into her room, her new ferret friend, Mischief, came scurrying over to sniff at her feet. This provoked another smile, but only a soft one, as she leaned over to scoop him up. He wriggled around in her arms as she moved over to her bed, and she only set him down on the comforter after giving him a little kiss to the cranium. Leaving him to run laps over the sheets, Charna moved on to change into her bedclothes. All the while, her mind was spinning, processing, whirling.

As well as she had grabbed the concept that the past was indeed the past, once she began thinking about it, it was just so hard to stop.
The room came back first. Next, the apartment as a whole. Then, the tavern below. Slowly...slowly, faces would resurface, some more detailed than others. They were usually contorted into twisted expressions of pleasure, always with something innately horrific about them. Back then, she'd had plenty of opportunities to see the worst in those men. Their lust had almost proved lethal on more than one occasion. The blood was another very familiar memory.

Amongst all the male visages that floated to the surface of her mind, two of them were the most distinct. The first was that of her adopted father, the man who turned his affections away when she was eight and then used her to make a disturbing enterprise when she was only twelve. When confronted with the thought of him, she simply scowled at the mirror in front of her as she washed her face and reminded herself that he was dead. He had accepted the contaminated drink she herself had handed him, and now he was dead. That memory gave her a disturbing feeling of relief and even of happiness.

Charna Lyndria

Date: 2005-07-18 05:33 EST
Another change of locations, so that now she was leaning against the large frame of the glass door that led to the balcony.

Her attention, however, was on that of the second face, Ahriman, the most vile and sadistic of all the men she'd ever known. What made him all the more disgusting was that he hid it so well. He was handsome, he was young, he was very well-off, and to others he may have even been charming. But the raven-haired one was allowed to see beneath all that..to the wicked and malicious core. He hurt her with more intent and with more focus than any of the others. And yet, Charna had always felt some sort of terribly warped love behind it all. It was the kind of affection you held towards your most prized possession, or possibly a beloved pet. Whenever he frequented the tavern, he always made sure to double the asking price for a night with the girl. And before he'd drag her off, he'd parade her around the room to let all the drunkards know that when he was here, Charna was claimed. Any other night, she was fair game. At least that was the unspoken rule around the place, according to the other men.

Char knew better. Ahriman knew what she did every night, and despite the fact that it was never by choice, he treated her like a naughty animal. He wouldn't have the decency to treat her like a cheating spouse. She figured the dehumanization made it easier for him to beat her, and also made it easier for him not to really care about her in any substantial way. On one particularly horrid evening, after he'd been away for at least three weeks, he decided to punish her for all her sins by branding her, on the portion of her back just below her neck, with a very hot and very sharp poker. The scar she bore now still itched and burned faintly when she felt guilt.

As if the daily abuse wasn't enough, towards the end of her stay there, her father was threatening to sell her off for marriage. The obvious winner was the most foul of them all who was also, coincidentally, the richest. Luckily, she found a way to escape that fate, even if it did involve a little murder.

Charna Lyndria

Date: 2005-07-18 05:40 EST
And again, while the past was the past, with a past like that, it was hard not to end up with major malfunctions and an inability to just let it go. For years, those things had ruled her. She would hear Ahriman badgering her when no one else was around..she would even argue aloud with the unseen man. With the help of a new, restructured adopted family, she began to emerge from her broken shell, but it wasn't long before they all learned just how damaged she was.

A psion, a being with extraordinary mental capabilities, had been recruited to help her. And while the young woman did help to push the thoughts back into a contained little area of Charna's mind, they were by no means cleared out.

This was Charna's wish, of course. No matter how absolutely horrific the remembrances were, they were hers. The same principle was held when it came to healers trying to make her nasty scars disappear. They were a part of her, and their history was her history. She didn't appreciate anyone trying to take them away.

But the psion was important to her for other reasons, especially as of late. Charna's maternal figure, Susie (aka Momma Cat), liked to keep in touch with the psion in question's, Calypso's, community. Calypso had turned out to be a rogue, who not only was attempting to drive Rory and Charna apart, but seemed to be trying to kill Rory in the process. Because of the incident, Rory refused to let Charna have anymore contact with the psion community. Calypso had gone missing after that, and according to Momma Cat, her only link to that part of the realm, the Elders of the community believe that the mind-witch was being paid for such dastardly services by a powerful boss. A boss they couldn't figure out the identity of just yet. But Char had her suspicions...and they weren't ones she was about to share with anyone, least of all the cowboy. If "the boss" hadn't come to claim her, yet, she figured she was safe.

The idea of him being "back" set of the unconscious nervous reaction, which was chewing on her lower lip. Just days ago, Rory had discouraged her from doing so after she drew blood. It was likely she would draw it again.

The self-destructive tendencies had carried over from her back then, as well. When no one else would give her the hell she thought she deserved, she did it herself. Sometimes it was subconscious..and other times it was planned. For weeks, she'd had night terrors and had woken up with terrible scratches all over. Then there were the cigarette burns she couldn't explain. The periods of starvation when she was already so painfully thin, too. The lip biting was another, and even the constant smoking and drinking, but those were socially acceptable. The healers, nor anyone else for that matter, had probed too deeply into the accident she'd had just recently, where she'd fractured her arm falling off a pegasus. And why should they question it? Only she knew that she'd just let go of the creature once she was sure it left the ground. Only she knew that it was a punishment she found just for hurting Rory, when he wouldn't punish her himself.

But then, not many thought to question, since few got to see the darker side of the vixen. Fewer still got to know why it existed. To date, the number of people who were aware of her upbringing could be counted off on less than all ten of her fingers. One was a healer, who only found out when she'd asked what exactly had caused so much trauma to Charna's body. Years of abuse and constant remedies to keep the young woman from getting pregnant kind of had a negative effect on the reproductive system.

With one hand pressed flat against her belly, she frowned sadly at her reflection in the dark glass. Only the catling and the healer knew that secret. It was another one she'd wait to divulge to Rory, when she was ready.

By now, her head hurt, and she deemed it necessary to sleep. She skulked over to the inviting mattress and to her now calm and curled up little friend, pausing momentarily before sneaking in-between the sheets. She'd end the night with thoughts of the people continually working to make her better, mostly her catling family, Susie, and especially the man who usually occupied the spot besides her. The Irishman's countenance was the final fleeting image before her eyes shut completely and her psyche took a much needed break.