tirocks

Chapter 3

Jan 1st, 2018
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  1. “Home alas,” you murmur mechanically as the welcome site of respite looms closer into view. The almost-archaic mansion stands proudly despite the ivy-tangled brickwork, the once bright red face slowly crumbling and fading as time leached pitilessly. Once proud columns stood almost invisible beneath nature’s green ropes as there was a general air of faded glory, now forgotten and desperate to be remembered once more. Large windows stare forlornly from the massive building, the glass sagging and frosted with dust and age. A meandering, cobblestone path snakes its way across the overgrown lawn, obscured from view in places by the encroaching verdant sea. A pair of defunct fountains stand silent watch over the disgraced garden path, brambles strangling the masterful stonework. Thorns protruded from cracks where nature’s viney webs tangled their fibrous fingers, slowly hastening the decay. Almost as if in a cruel twist of irony, the fountain’s pale stone roses stood unharried, bearing mute testimony to their foundation’s crumbling. Along the perimeter of the expansive lawn, a uniformly-placed barrier of trees cleanly demarcated where the settled portion of the property ended. To ensure that the borders were respected, a wrought black-iron fence enforced the wooden guardians. Sharpened spikes capped the posts, discouraging any would-be trespassers from trying to overcome the impediments.
  2. “Let’s get you in and cleaned up,” you state matter-of-factly, leading your companion up the path. The grass rustles in the wind as the heavens threaten to unleash their burden. Cold droplets of rain began to drip downward, a few droplets smattering against your face. Not a moment too soon, you both make it under the overhang as a veritable wall of rain pours across the land. The display shimmers, reminiscent of the diamonds that the pattern on your new pony’s flank resembled. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” you comment, trying to make some small talk. However, your attempt is only met be a dismissive hmf as she ably deflects your comment. Your rejoinder is an exasperated sigh, colored by no small measure of irritation. “It’s rude not to answer,” you begin, authority creeping into your voice as befitting a master talking down towards his servant. “I expect you to reply when addressed, pony.”
  3. “Well, excuse me, sir,” she snaps back at you sarcastically, her sapphire eyes glaring up at you. Despite the difference in height, you can’t help but notice that she still makes for quite an imposing figure. Perhaps the dried, bloody mess soaked into her fur only served to make it all the more impressive. “That is no way for you to address a proper lady such as myself. My name is Rarity Belle, thank you very much, and you will address me as such- not something disparaging like pony,” the unicorn finishes angrily.
  4. “Fair enough, Rarity,” you assent, though her insubordination rankled. Your upbringing made you one that expected to be heard and obeyed, and this lack of respect would not be tolerated. Which was something you wanted to make sure was understood and communicated. “Though seeing as I am the master and you are the servant, I expect you to dignify that relationship with the respect incumbent upon our stations. Do I make myself clear?”
  5. Rarity’s eyes widened in shock before narrowing in anger, her lips drawing back to reveal her teeth in a frown of anger. It seemed that she was ready to retort, though your words did stab an icy reminder into her heart. Proud as she was, there was no denying that this was the reality she found herself in- a captive to this strange creature and at his mercy. While the unicorn was able to dispatch the previous brute with a well-applied thrust of her horn, liberally using her natural defenses would only serve to worsen her situation. After all, she was at least able to recognize that her new master was a gentlemen of refined upbringing. Were she to try to force her freedom by leaving him a bleeding mess, breathing or not, she would likely find herself in much more dire straits than where he purchased her from. Regardless, Rarity refused to lower her proud gaze and met Anon’s eyes with a much more level expression than previously. “Yes,” she replied simply, refusing to denigrate herself by calling him master. “Now hurry up and let me inside. I wish to cleanse myself of the foul stench that vile ape stained me with.” Without waiting for reply, Rarity turns away and faces the door patiently, noting with disdain the cracked, faded, and chipped paint.
  6. “Glad we could reach an understanding,” you state magnanimously, looking down at her. You can’t help but stare at her amethyst mane with an odd feeling of respect in her uncowed spirit. Despite finding herself subjugated and bound to foreign creatures, she still remained proud and unbroken— something that you noticed repeatedly with unpopular disgust in the others of her kind. After an impatient hmf from your pony, you fumble at the pouch on your belt and drawing out an aged brass key. Placing it in its matching receptacle, you turn it to release the latch and push the door open before replacing the key back to its resting place. “Welcome to your new home, Rarity- and the home of the last Carter. Now let’s get you cleaned up.”
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