De Aequitate

By Aureity

• October 13, 2012

Age: 17

Gender: Male

Species: Unicorn

Appearance: Appears to have a black coat, but on closer inspection, one can easily tell that's it's just soot. His real coat is actually more of a light azure blue.<br /><br />He used to have emerald-green eyes. Used to. Nowadays, his narrowed eyes resemble toxic vemon more than they do a bright green gem. But then again, it's all about perspective.<br /><br />His mane, which in his colthood was a whiteish-blue, has turned a dull gray. Presumably from all the soot that has collected on it.<br />

Cutie Mark: The distinct outline of a black raven, with beady red eyes.<br /><br />Everypony who has seen it has a different opinion on what it means. Aeq certainly isn't telling.

Personality: Personality is a closely guarded secret, fool. But I am sure you could tell some of the more...obvious things simply by talking to me. Assuming you're worth responding to, anyway.

Backstory: No one will read this. No one will know. Ever. <br /><br />I feel that I must jot down my thoughts. Somewhere. Somehow. Why, I do not know. For what reason, I cannot understand. But it has nagged me, at the back of my mind, for ages. This one record, obtained with the blood of innocents and sealed with the devil's hoof, shall serve as the only reminder that I had ever existed. For one day, I too shall be one with the dust. I can only hope that this token of my existence, lasting longer than I ever shall, will serve but one purpose. To prevent some future soul from having to suffer, much as I have done.<br /><br />No one should have to look up at the sun, and see only death.<br /><br />...<br /><br />A bit overly dramatic, though accurate nonetheless. By now, you know my name. Good. I will not have to introduce myself to you all. (And for those witless wonders who don't, I have even scribed it onto the title of this record). They say repetition implants into the brain, so forgive me – my name is De Aequitate, and anypony with half a brain in Latin should know what it means. This is my only name, and the name you will address me by. Is this clear?<br /><br />Very well. I was born on the outskirts of the rubbish dump that they call Baltimare. Pathetic excuse for a city, pathetic excuse for a populace. One could not take their hoof off of their wallet without it being stolen away – and even then, sometimes it was stolen anyway. I would strongly encourage thee to pass over the city if you are looking for real-estate. At least in Las Pegasus it's the casinos that steal your bits, not some blasted muggers.<br /><br />Fortunately, I myself did not live in the actual city, but rather near the surrounding forest. My father was a lumberjack, you see. A decent one, although I have seen better. Nonetheless, he did his duty well enough for the family to survive, and I salute him for this. Less admirably, he attempted to persuade me to follow his hoofsteps as a lumberjack myself. I was young and naive back then. Thankfully, the event that happened opened my eyes to the harshness of the world.<br />But we shall get to that later.<br /><br />I do not remember too much about my mother. I believe that she always used to obsess over plants. Why, I do not know. Back in my colthood, I recall being very emotionally attached to her, but now as I reflect on my life, I honestly cannot find a good reason for having done so. At least my father provided the bits. My mother provided shriveled green plants that were inedible most of the time. I did find nightshade once, however, pressed into her little “herb collection book”, which did prove quite useful as a manner of...persuasion. So I suppose it was not all for naught.<br /><br />Oh yes. I also had a sister. An adopted one. At the very least, she knew her place - at the bottom of the tier. Ungracious ingrate. If I could relay my fury towards her in this record, I fear that I would occupy the length of ten pages before a fifth of my thoughts had been recorded. She ruined my life...although I must grudgingly accept that without her, I would still be the oblivious fool that I used to be, feeding squirrels in the forest and frolicking in the river. Hmph, now that I look back at my own previous life, I myself was rather an idiot. Ah well.<br /><br />This is the point where you expect me to talk all about my childhood. I won't. It's stupid, and I'd rather forget it. As I said before...I was rather an idiot back then. Oblivious to the world. And expecting to see the good in everypony. Well. If you're reading this, I implore thee not to think the same way. Or you will suffer.<br /><br />The event that changed my perception? I suppose I'd better mention it now. <br /><br />It was all my “sister”'s fault. The rest of the family and I were off to some sort of pointless re-union. And she was left alone in the house. I would have much rather stayed as well, but you know parents...<br />You'd think that a damned teenage mare would have enough brains to just stay at home quietly and not burn it to the ground, aye? Well, you'd be wrong. <br /><br />To make a long story short, my parents died fighting the fire. (Idiots could have just waited for the firefighters, but no...) I was made an orphan. And the only mare who I thought I could trust fled to Celestia-knows-where. Good thing, too, or I'd probably have gutted her like a fish. Not that I've given up trying, of course.<br /><br />If there is one thing you take away from this – don't cross me. Ever.