Zoey, the I Got Morbid on my Mind, Sunshine in my Brain female Saiste
I don't wanna be right
Baby, every single night
I could tell you a thing about taking your time
It's making me nervous, yeah
Baby, every single night
I could tell you a thing about taking your time
It's making me nervous, yeah
italic #3f216e
Hey Baby, where you been? Cause she knows. She knows exactly where you've been, and while she's polite about it, she's judgin' you. Throwin' shade all over in your direction.
Zoey is a quiet mare, storing all of her knowledge and not opening her mind to share it with anybody…except Ian. Which, by the way, he hates.
But it just so happens that Zoey believes herself to be Ian's salvation, just the thing he needs in this chaotic world he's found himself in. Because she's the one who knows the truth of the matter, what keeps Dr. Bastroe up at night, bothering the rest of the troupe. She knows what notes he scribbles in his makeshift journals, desperately pouring over his notes to make sense of his madman ramblings. Cause that's the truth of the matter: Ian's crazy.
Like, super duper crazy.
Which is why it's a good thing she's here, to have him kick off those shackles and the heavy burdens weighing him down, bronco style. While she's certainly not the crazy party-girl sort, she is an enabler, pushing people down the 'fun' road. She's the subtle whisper in your ear telling you, good Skydragon stop giving a shit already. Let. It. Go. And not in a song or dance style either. Truly stop giving a shit. If you want somebody in your corner already caring as much as you need, it's her. She'll judge you as much as you want, as much as you need. She's right there, glowering with her blind white eyes. Build up a wall around the world and you'll intrigue people. Not in that anti-social way either, man. Build a nice wall, something pretty, a mask that people think they want to see. Take your time with it, make it beautiful, and best of all, if no one actually likes it – fuck 'em.
You only get one life, Ian Thomas Bastroe. And you've surrounded yourself with morbidity in all the wrong ways. She's seen the light through your dreams, seen where you've been, seen more about yourself than you ever will, and it's enlightened her.
Break out. Kick out. Rejoice in every second you've got. Cause we've got a limited number of 'em, if drifting through your dreams has told her anything.
Zoey is a slight thing, a skeleton of a horse. While blind, her senses through life guide her, though she's less adept at it than some (ahem, Pony Boy) and appreciates any help she can get from her bondmates. Otherwise, it doesn't quite bother her, since she's quietly judging you all anyway. She's a shade of light blue-teal, like the waters of the pacific islands that hiss over white sands. In fact, white sand is how one could describe the speckled pattern of her flanks and neck, and the long silky strands of her hair. Her legs end in midnight blue sleeves, ending in a tapering of black fur that falls over ebony hooves.