|  Author | Topic: Claim! (Read 412 times) |
timeless
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« Thread Started on Apr 3, 2007, 11:51am » | |
Kissers curled in a smirk, a haughty air weaving itself about him. I'm a king. A ruler. I am above all the others. I will become great... though somewhere, in a deep pocket of his brain, he knew it would take more than words to expand his kingdom. But for now, he'd take what he could get. Dawdling before releasing his claimence call, he did as was customary for his family before claiming a land. He would think. He would reach, down into his thoughts, past all the memory, to his core. He would discover himself all over again, and find the stuff he was made of. But of course it will be gold! He thought with a sigh.
He thought. But all he could remember was that day back then, when he'd met two other horses. One was a prancy, sapling doe, pretty but weak; her delicate, petite Arabian build could not fight; he could tell, for he saw naught a muscle on her golden bod. Her name was Fantasy. Quick to snap, but gutless, haughty, but much more so than he was. The other was a bit better; he was the silent type, pretty strong, but skinny. The stag was a black and white paint just as he was, but less rich, and he was a gypsy vanner, while he himself was a piebald. The stag's name was Joker; he seemed somewhat annoyed when he was trying to lighten the mood. They'd all come from different side of what was soon to be the Great War; Fantasy was a follower of the Heart's Words, Joke an Unbeliever, while he himself was a follower of the Breaking Words. It was strange, because they didn't attack each other straight away, as the different followers would normally have done. Instead, they'd sat there, and talked, ate, and watched the day die. Until they left and set off onto their own paths. Seperately. Peacefully.
Then there was that memory of the only time in his life that he'd been so frightened. It was when he'd been driven off by all six of his other brothers, just for being what he was: a seventh son. He was considered lucky, and was pampered and spoiled as a son of Breaking Words followers could get. His siblings had gotten jealous, so one day took him out to the river. There, they left him in the dark. He had wandered aimlessly for some times, but, fortunatly, had been found and raised by a different herd. It was a memory he didn't like to recall, but it wasn't painful.
There were countless other memories as he sped by, do to his core. But he couldn't reach it. It was closed off by darkness. He couldn't see. He couldn't get by. His core was not for him to be found now. Frustrated, he opened his eyes and struck a sapling. It bent onto its side, its withered branches sweeping the floor. Breathing heavily, he trotted up to the roaring, muddy green currents of the bent river. It would be a quick path to hell should anyone step within it. Could it have just been him, or did he see a slight shade of lifeblood crimson in the dark brown-green water?
But it suited him. So long as no one commited suicide there or fell in, it would be fine, good to scare off attackers. Without another thought of hesitation, gates parted and an echo escaped. It was an echo of his father before him, as his yellowy flints struck the wind and his hind stilts held firmly. The echo was caught in the musky, damp branches of the sagging trees, then gobbled up. But it was a call of claimence nonetheless. So now this demon of a river was his. The Seventh Son's.
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fights are risky; it's all or nothing.
luff you forever
Fantasy//Heart's
Joker//Unbeliever
Seventh Son//Breaking
Nameless//Unbeliever
Izumi//Unbeliever
Qing Shu//Unbeliever |
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« Reply #1 on Apr 4, 2007, 3:34pm » | |
ACCEPTED
any posts after this must be IC
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.sometimes...
a fight can mend or build
a friendship...
larger than it tore.
×†×†× ¤»¤»¤ ×†×†× ¤»¤»¤ ׆׆×
i want you to know...
timeless...
will always be my bff.
and yes...
it was i...
that exalted her...
when we were in that fight.4.18
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« Reply #2 on Apr 15, 2007, 6:54pm » | |
~Silence~
The black mustang came to a screeching halt on the riverbank of a dark, muddy, blood clotted river. He gazed in, to practically see the eyes of dead sould staring back at him, those who have had their life taken by the river. Silence could tell that this was a dark and foreboding place, perfect for horse that followed the Breaker's Words, but maybe it was just some abandoned place, but the stallion highly doubted that. The stench that surrounded this dreadful place was overpowering, and unbearably strong. His mind was reeling against the fumes, meddling with his thoughts. Determindly blocking it out, he jumped over the river, careful not to set a hoof in the deadly, fast flowing river, and continued venturing further into the wasteland.
As the black stag walked through land that was around the crooked river, he began to scent another horse. Silence guessed that it belonged to someone who had claimed this land, and had to be much more careful. His pools glanced around nervously, looking for an offender, or any horse that might suddenly jumped out a him, when the cry of a horse reached his audits. It was a claiming cry, and he knew it. All he had to do was get to the horse that had realeased the powerful sound, and perhaps he could make his home here.
The river bent like a old straw all over the landscape, its fast flowing jets of water able to carry away even the strongest horse. The was a devilish aura surrounding this place, as if something omnious had once happened. Its too late to go back now! Silence thought somewhat regretfully, as he had already ventured into the dark forest. The gnarled branches of the trees seemed to hang out like claws, threatening to draw in anyone that came close, so he tried to avoid them. The smell of the other stallion was drawing closer, and he knew he was getting closer to wherever that horse was.
OOC: Sorry if it's a little short, like timey, my muse is beginning to fade away...
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+Emeralia+Heart+
-Silence-Breaker-
..Whisper..Unbeliever..
//Thunder//Heart//
((Kamorigachi))((Unbeliever))
::Aphrodyte::Heart::
>Apache<>Unbeliever<
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timeless
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« Reply #3 on Apr 16, 2007, 8:46pm » | |
ooc: schwa. no muse.
IC
Audits perked as he heard the faint crash of undergrowth in the distance. Nares flared as he picked up a foreign scent. Was there a challenger, come to take his land, just as he'd claimed it? No, he wouldn't have it. Eyes narrowed, the blunt beetle eyes thick slits. He bared his yellow teeth, ready for any challenge. He wasn't of the c.ocky type of stallion, sure he could succeed in moving a mountain or anything stupid like that. But he wasn't considered smart either. He was rash alright, words faster than his sense, and a pain in the arse, like a child sometimes. But other times he was a suave, smooth-talking stallion who strutted around with his chest puffed out, scars glinting in whatever light was around. It was fun to see which stags slunk away from his messy layer of muscle, which tried to puff out their own chests more than he.
He turned his average-sized bod around to face the direction of the source of the foreign scent. He wasn't going to be pleased if what he found was a puny colt trying to make a life for himself; all this preperation for nothing. He wanted a challenge, one that would stretch him past his limits. He'd been playing rooster of the coop to find a suitable challenge that would hopefully let him overcome his 'athsma'. Seventh let loose a warning snort, to scare away if he were a coward. His yellowing teeth still bared in a wicked smile, he barked, "What do you want? If it's my kingship you've come for, you'll find to the death for it. Whatever the outcome is, it depends on your luck, not mine." There he was, going for c.ocky; maybe if he found a monster, he really could find a way to overcome his disability. His beetle eyes had a crazed look in them. He tasted the metallic tang of blood on his unruly teeth; he'd gnashed together his dirty ivories so hard that the bottom row had slipped and caught the soft gum tissue from where the top row hung.
He looked for inspiration for a victory; nobody can win anything without motivation. As his solid black eyes searched, he realized that, not an hour living here, he loved this place. It was something he'd die defending for, mares or no. The obstacles this place presented; obstacles of a life-or-death matter... and to overcome them... It was what he wanted. It was a maze that tested his limit. A maze that he would eventually surpass, and his 'athsma' with it. He gave another snort, and lifted his heavy bod and peeled the air in half with his hooves. With a thump he came back down, and let out another call, no quieter than the first. "Come."
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fights are risky; it's all or nothing.
luff you forever
Fantasy//Heart's
Joker//Unbeliever
Seventh Son//Breaking
Nameless//Unbeliever
Izumi//Unbeliever
Qing Shu//Unbeliever |
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« Reply #4 on Apr 20, 2007, 7:03am » | |
Silence's great black head raised and looked around the area, pools wide, audits perked after hearing a challenging cry, as to whether the stallion was a threat or not. The ebony mustang had no intention to fight another stag for kingship, but more to become the king's second, his right "hoof" horse as many might say.
Suddenly, another cry rang the through the dreary riverside forest. "What do you want? If it's my kingship you've come for, you'll find to the death for it. Whatever the outcome is, it depends on your luck, not mine." the voice spoke threateningly in a rather self assured manner. Silence's ears twitched, attempting to locate the sound that previously rang through the dark branches and trees, bouncing off the dreadful flowing water in the crooked river.
The voice called out again, and this one was a beckoning call, to challenge any foolish horse who dared to enter his territory. This call was all Silence needed in order to locate the horse. As he slowed to a canter, as the forest trees seem to be closer together. Suddenly, the stag's orbs caught sight of a unnatural forest color, he stopped and looked again. It was a strong, muscular piebald paint horse. He had many scars from previous battles or just accidental injury and gave him a threatening effect.
"I come not to challenge you, but more to ask to be part of your kingdom, your empire, your land, or whatever you may want to call it. I, Silence, present no harm nor injury to your kingship and wish to be part of your kingdom!" Silence called out, stating the fact that he was not here to battle before anything else, just in case the paint stallion were to attack.
The charcoal mustang trotted forward, a little closer to the horse and waited for the reply, whether it be acceptance, or rejection and battle, he knew not, but Silence braced himself for whatever was coming.
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+Emeralia+Heart+
-Silence-Breaker-
..Whisper..Unbeliever..
//Thunder//Heart//
((Kamorigachi))((Unbeliever))
::Aphrodyte::Heart::
>Apache<>Unbeliever<
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« Reply #5 on Apr 21, 2007, 10:22pm » | |
>.. a l i c i a..<
[×] Before she even stepped her dainty little seducing limbs onto the land, her nares picked up the reeking of something... odorous. She could tell it wasn't the rotting carcasses: the fish, and the bloodies puddle of water after a branch where a small Fall fell and a pool laid to rest. It wasn't the pelts that sort of hung on a jutting out rock, because the tide hadn't swept it away. It didn't reek of the dried and maroon meat, it was something else. Something that even... attracted her.
[×] Her two-beat entered the caverns. It wasn't really a cavern, but all the hatred and coercion seemed to form a little bubble around his palace. A wide and sweet smile crackled upon her healthy enchanting kissers. No matter what, she was too hard-core to actually stay with one of them, but... what did she know? Every little bird comes out of their dark shells to see the light, didn't they? Well... most. A smirk landed upon her maw, her nape raising her zenith and her tresses carried highly, almost royally, in the night skies. Maybe, it would be the last time. This time, if they were worthy, she'd go with one of them. And maybe, it wouldn't be the king.
Pshaw
[×] Was that even possible? Not go with the king? Since when did she think like that? It was probably one of those times that her mother's bloodlines and brain tinglings coursed through her. She never listened, and it rarely ever happened.
[×] As her pillars fully emerged into the land, she could see the river's force, almost trying to murder something. And it was true, she could see the bodies floating--well, they weren't really floating, b/c the current was too strong, and just kept the body running, but in a few areas, she could see where a doe had attempted to drink from the fast-flowing stream, and their head was torn off. It was hardly a sight to bear. Ignoring the dreadful fate, her flints moved quickly, faster than before. When she reached a giant stone that seemed to hover over the river, her hind-pillars carried out the energy as she flung herself across. As she landed, barely making the wide strtch, she noticed the the rock had barely been balanced, and it had taken it's dive into the river. Sadly enough, the femme's keen orbs didn't see it, which meant that the place where she had leaped across was especially strong. She took a mental note of that.
[×] Oddly, yet not surprisingly, she heard voices. Two, in fact. This land had not just recently been claimed. Or, maybe... well it didn't matter. There were no mares, as she saw. Maybe one would try to force her. Oh, that would suck like c.rap. She would lower on that idea. Her pools laid on the skin in front of her: crooked river in the background, two stags: a paint and a mustang. The grass seemed all to be weeds, some poisonous, and the others dead, dry, and crackling at your very own hooves. A flush of overwhelming calmness took over her as she stepped forward to meet them. She still next to the pain one, who seemed superior to the mustang. It was stupid, to show that you are inferior. Who would ever grant a stallion the Alpha position if they showed out loud, if not in words, that they were in a lower class? Everyone should be their own god, as she put it. A smirk crept across her maw as she waited for the reaction. All too late she realized it was Seventh Son she was standing by, a stag that she, in her own frame, had met before. Struggling to keep calm, her stilts wedged a lateral leg-yield so that she was directly in between the stallions if they formed an arc to one swaying side. Once again, a sly smile caressed her facade.
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fini!
|
.sometimes...
a fight can mend or build
a friendship...
larger than it tore.
×†×†× ¤»¤»¤ ×†×†× ¤»¤»¤ ׆׆×
i want you to know...
timeless...
will always be my bff.
and yes...
it was i...
that exalted her...
when we were in that fight.4.18
|
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timeless
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« Reply #6 on Apr 21, 2007, 11:40pm » | |
Seventh Son could've laughed out loud at the response. It was like expecting a wolf and finding a rabbit. And to think, he thought a challenge had come. But... this... was not a fighter. Not a leader. A supporter, too weak, too cowardly to fight for his own position. Seventh let an amused leer curl his kissers into arcs as the stag thundered into view: black (typical of Breaking's... *sigh*), of some skinny build, somewhat smaller than Seventh himself. His eyes laughed, clapping at this unexpected turn of events. Well. We'll see.
"To ask to be part of my kingdom?" He laughed, none too kindly. Did this... this... truly want to be second-in-command? Did he expect to ask for it and somehow get it? No... he decided he'd let this stag be filth first, to taste how it's like to be under an unfair ruler, and see if this motivates him to fight for a position. Seventh had yearned for a challenge for so long, but it seemed to his [conceited] self that everyone was too weak for him. "Well, perhaps first we may introduce ourselves first. But just be sure that even if you give me your name, don't think I'd give you a position, all hoity-toity like that." Well, really, what did this guy expect?
Seventh began nosing the air; his nares had picked up the delicious scent of a vixen... but it seemed familiar. Why? It's not like Seventh Son would know; he'd picked up and dropped too many mares for him to keep track of. And some of them he did leave with a slighter fuller belly. The scent became stronger, and suddenly he remembered this bittersweet, flowery scent: it was the sweetling he'd picked up at the Waterfall. His leer wizened into a full grin, eyes dancing in merriment. O, how lucky it was for him to have a sweet come home! That lady really was a doll; she was so particularily satisfying, and as she appeared into view she gave his chest a quick lurch as he stood straighter, trying to make his blessed muscles stand out more than they usually did.
At first, she didn't seem to notice that she'd met this particular, shady buck before. O, but it was too late for escape; Seventh was a possessive devil, and he considered her his now, as his nares recieved another puff of flower in full bloom. This was his land, and be as it may that he'd not been in this place for more than a day, he'd know every nook and cranny by heart at the end of the week, and he already knew that this was a killer place; horses should stick together if they were to live, and who better than the king? It was a rare chance to chat with a king. He gave a jovial shout as her sense came about and she realized the stud she was standing next to. What was this? O, but she gave him a smile! (Of course, Seventh didn't realize it as a clever smile; he was too self-important to realize that not everything revovled around him) Dark angel, smile again; give me strength, give me your soul, body, mind... You want me, he thought pompously. You want me, tricky little flower, and you're not escaping...
"Well, hello dear; does my River suit your tastes?"
|
fights are risky; it's all or nothing.
luff you forever
Fantasy//Heart's
Joker//Unbeliever
Seventh Son//Breaking
Nameless//Unbeliever
Izumi//Unbeliever
Qing Shu//Unbeliever |
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« Reply #7 on Apr 22, 2007, 5:54pm » | |
Please don't take anything in my posts as offensive, its just the way Alicia thinks... I don't have anything against your character. In OOC, I'm rooting for him!!! ^^... well, not going against timey either, but I want him to stay!
And thanks, timey, for going along with my horse's personality, making others feel... you know, in love. I can't make your horse do that, it'd be power playing.
[a l i.c i a]
[×] The femme's dreamer pondered whether or not she should stay. The river... the grass... the depth in hatred of the area. But, her stilts were willed to pause as her pair of harks perched upright to listen to the stag. His words were forceful, daring, strong. Her type of guy. She would wait for the next hellion's reply before dubbing them useless. Well, Seventh was a whole other story, but patience still coursed through her bloodline and her pillars stood, carrying her soft and light upper frame. She pretended not to notice when Seventh stiffened, and she loved the way his smooth lines of muscle seemed to gently pulse outward, his height raising as he straightened. She loved how he had been on his guard when the stallion had come, and how he seemed to bait the other... the mustang, into speaking up. The black bod didn't seem very strong, did it? The soul that owned it, it was iffy. But if Seventh was good enough, she'd cope with [Thunder] if Seventh was good enough. Enough. And that might be hard, considering she liked the hit & run idea: take a chance at their heart, and leave. And, not even being conceited, she was quite good at it.
[×] She was getting just the slightest bit nervous. He seemed to be eying her, and the mare didn't feel very comfortable around him. It just wasn't right. Just his eye seemed to make her stay in this region. He seemed an equine to take ahold of something and never let go. She admired that little characteristic about him, too. She was smaller in size to him, and if you juxtaposed, she was way less muscular, weaker, yet not like, twig-weak. She could put up a pretty big fight. Her optics could melt you, but in her mind, she was killing you. And you wouldn't know it until the last few moments when she towered over you to break your heart. Even then, you would probably cower to her, an evil glint in her pools that only the darkest of spirits could get to reflect off those deep, black pools of midnight. Her stilts may only stretch up to even only three-fourths of your own, but when she got ready to break the news, half the time you were so down that you wouldn't be able to run to keep her from escaping. And she'd just prance away, her tail held high, as if trying to hurt you even more. And when you heard her melodic, sweet voice talking to another stag, you wouldn't try to help them, because they wouldn't listen, or you wouldn't be able to bear her sight, for fear of breaking down again.
[×] But Seventh didn't seem that way.
[×] He seemed possessive, one who wouldn't let go. And not just that, but one able to break. Not in the sense of breaking bones, necessarily, but breaking as in making them docile. And by the looks of his strong bod and wanting, lustful optics, he just might be able to tame the forceful river. and if not, he probably was bold enough to die trying. That was her type. Dark, hissing, sarcastic, those were little side-effect characteristics that she almost paid no mind to, just like an ice-cream sundae was great on a dar when the sun scorched your skin, but an additional flick of sprinkles added more flavor to the delight.
[×] "The river? Hey, better than nothing."
[×] Some stags mocked her for her optimism, but she had only inherited it from her mother, and it lured the stags all the more. She disliked trying to act superior, she had respect for those that she knew and didn't, and rarely ingratiated herself. She didn't have to, most of the time, her personality and beauty made her seem ... popular. Known. Royal. And she loved it. Sometimes, if her heart had fallen and leaned on the horse, she felt sorry for dipping his facade into the mud, but it wasn't like her to stay with one too long. She never really had that thought until now. Was it really time to settle and bear a child to the king? No matter what, she would get the position. She wasn't weak, for she looked like a gypsy vanner, though her height was smaller because her mother had been Paint. No matter, she looked strong; not as strong as the two stags beside her, but stronger than most she had met. It was true, she was almost perfect. Except for the fact that she raised her status by destroying other's hearts. Except for that. |
done!
|
.sometimes...
a fight can mend or build
a friendship...
larger than it tore.
×†×†× ¤»¤»¤ ×†×†× ¤»¤»¤ ׆׆×
i want you to know...
timeless...
will always be my bff.
and yes...
it was i...
that exalted her...
when we were in that fight.4.18
|
|
.//P/oison.x
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« Reply #8 on Apr 22, 2007, 10:23pm » | |
Silence audits twitched as he waited for the stallions reply, the stench of rotting flesh really beginning to bother him. Suddenly, another scent entered the scene, it was a vixen's scent and as to what a vixen would be doing in this treacherous place, he didn't know, nor did he really care. His orbs flickered back to the stag standing in a superior manner as his eyes expressed amusement at the appearance of the black mustang.
The paint horse opened his maw only to let out a scathing reply, then a rather harsh laugh to follow. This c.ocky horse was laughing at him, ridiculing him at his attempts to make peace. Silence knew he had made his first mistake already, he should not have come out asking to be second in command for his foolishness has payed dearly by making the muscular stallion think he was weak, pitiful, pathetic. He could tell the paint had expected someone more challenging by the smug look in his eyes.
The king then let out another dry comment, commenting on how they should introduce themselves first, but even if he did, Silence would not get a position and should not expect a good one either. The mustang gnashed his yellow teeth angrily at this response. The ebony stag was not weak, nor unskilled in terms of battle for he had had his own fare share of battles. One thing that all dignified horses do not like, is being ridiculed and inferred as pathetic and weak which was what this stag was doing. He knew that he had chosen to cross the path of the wrong horse, and presented himself with the wrong thing. Stupid, absolutely stupid! But if it's a challenge he wants, its a challenge he shall get! Silence thought furiously.
But his mind was temporarily distracted as the scent of the mare became increasingly stronger as a pretty buckskin vixen appeared in the midst of the rotting trees. By the look expressed on her dainty features, he could tell she had overheard the way he had presented himself, and she was obviously disgusted. The vixen was one of those mares who was very haughty and conceited, who knew they were beautiful and flaunted it openly, Silence guessed from the way she held herself and the way she looked and acted. Enough observing the mare, he scolded himself silently before averting his attention back to the stallion who stood looking at the mare.
The stallion was strong, well muscled and had scars from previous battles. He was slightly larger than Silence and the stag knew he had no chance to directly confront him for his own lean build would not put up for heavy duty battling. Just as he opened his mug to reply to his previous bored comments, the paint opened his maw to speak to the mare. Something about whether or not she like his river, and so Silence stood rather impatiently waiting for them to hurry up.
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+Emeralia+Heart+
-Silence-Breaker-
..Whisper..Unbeliever..
//Thunder//Heart//
((Kamorigachi))((Unbeliever))
::Aphrodyte::Heart::
>Apache<>Unbeliever<
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timeless
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« Reply #9 on Apr 23, 2007, 5:02pm » | |
ooc: yes, azy, he's fun to do when he's all swoony. And no offense towards your char. poison, Sevvy's just like that.
Seventh Son gave a short laugh at her response. Better than nothing... curious little devil she was. Of course it was better than nothing. His River was much better than alot of things; he loved it so much already he'd die for it. His River was precious, his treasure, much like a mare of his that he'd refuse to let go of... like the pretty one standing right beside him. His eyes lingered on her petite butt, but told himself it wasn't time yet, he had to be sure she would be one-hundred-percent his before that, and tore his gaze away and refocused on the little black horse in front of him. The horsie seemed a bit annoyed; maybe upset at being attention-deprived? Seventh gave a little chuckle at the thought.
"Respect my River; she's my babe," he told Alicia jokingly. With a satisfying heave of her tangy flower scent, ignoring all the other deathly scents, he let out his breath in one blow, and stared the stag in the eye. "Well, me being king, I suppose I shall introduce myself first; I am Seventh Son, your king, your lord, but not your friend; only very few have the privilege of calling me such a name. I am Seventh to those I give my trust to, and Sevvy to those I adore--" he nudged Alicia with a hind leg, and winked at her with a devilish glint in his eye "--neither of which are you, being my filth. You shall address me as your Lord, because I will allow you to join my herd, but only as my filth, until you show what... you are capable of... if anything..." The last comment was muttered under his breath, directed towards his bittersweet flower, almost expecting her to give a girlish giggle and a heave a lovesick sigh, though he knew better. She was alluring, alright, and to be properly so one must have a head. Not that Seventh knew.
Eyes concentrated on the stag before him, awaiting a reply. A poor thing he looked to be- skinny, small, weak... It should be pretty obvious by now why Seventh wouldn't give the rat a position. It wasn't 'first come first serve' as it was in other herds, where the first to ask would recieve Alpha; no no no. He specially hand-picked his leaders, should he felt deserved it. Until then, everyone was trash, though maybe some would be a bit cleaner than ohers; it all came down to personality. It was what he looked for. Confidence, motivation, determination, strength. In females, all he cared was whether they were sexy (sorry) or not. But who knew when his views of females might change? It may all depend on one to show him what the art of love may really mean. But for now, males will be males.
He began the feel the beginnings of a drizzle on his pelt as tiny droplets began to slide through the molding branches onto the horses. A thin mist settled as the rain began to fall, adding wet with hot. It would've been refreshing should the water have been cold, but it was surprisingly warm, which didn't help the searing weather at all. Rain from the Heart's lands... he tasted the rain as it rolled into his mouth; it was clean, pure water, which proved where it came from. Rain from here, he was sure, would taste sour, bitter, and acidic, and even look slightly cloudy. Most of the rain was swept into the hungry currents of his River as it clawed at the torn body of a small rodent. The body was unrecognizable in seconds as the deadly waters tore it apart, adding another shade of lifeblood to the already murky water.
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fights are risky; it's all or nothing.
luff you forever
Fantasy//Heart's
Joker//Unbeliever
Seventh Son//Breaking
Nameless//Unbeliever
Izumi//Unbeliever
Qing Shu//Unbeliever |
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Karma: 0 | | Re: Claim!
« Reply #10 on Apr 23, 2007, 7:10pm » | |
The bulky paint stag was still talking flirtatiously to the mare, jokingly, almost comfortably or as so it seemed. The paint was arrogant, thingyy, and conceited and obviously thought very highly of himself, Silence gathered from what he had previously learned. The stag was obviously the type thats saying "you cross my line, you die!" and the "I can fight any battle I want and win" type of attitude, the ebony horse guessed, trying to summon up as much as he could about this horse. The superior aura was practically radiating from the horse as he casually joked with the mare. But not long after that, he swiveled his attention back to the smaller mustang, his penetrating stare glaring through him.
The stallion then opened his mug to introduce himself as the Seventh Son, Silence's king, or as he is supposed to call him, lord. Seventh Son addressed himself as Seventh to those he trusted and Sevvy to those he adored, then playfully nudging the mare. However, he addressed the charcoal horse as filth. This most certainly sparked a angry light within Silence. "Me, filth? I think not. As I may appear to you as small, pathetic, or as you might call me, weak, I am not. I am skilled in battle, much more that you may have thought. Sure I'm not as big or heavily muscled as you might be, My lord"-he added in somewhat of a sarcastic tone-"I am lean enough to be able to dodge, strong enough to cause a damaging blow, and have enough determination to not run away," Silence said in a strained, even toned voice, keeping his anger back so he wouldn't do something rash and something we would regret.
Small droplets of rain began to drizzle down from the casually darkening sky, a fine mist spreading itself out around the river. This only made the already burning heat even horse, giving the day a humid taste. He felt small beads of water trailing down his bod and onto the ground and noticed the water was unusually warm, but then again, it was horribly hot. Silence had noticed the light gray clouds threatening to take over the sky earlier, and had hoped the water would be cold, fresh, and comfortable. He was greatly disappointed. The rain was not only somewhat warm, but also had a sour, disgusting taste, or at least to him that's what it was like. His audits could pick up the sound of the thrashing river, as the rain merely added more deadliness to its contents, but the stallion did not turn his head to look, almost positive there would be something he did not want to see as the faintest smell of blood reached his nostrils.
"I am unsure whether or not you might believe what I stated before, and I don't know how long I might last if I were to take you on, but if you were to battle me, I promise it won't be a quick one, nor an easy one, so battle me if you will, and I will prove to you whether I am weak or not," Silence spoke challenging, anger fueling his words. He looked back at Seventh Son, and saw he was looking at the ferocious river, and so Silence stood, awaiting the predicted harsh reply that might respond to his challenging one.
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+Emeralia+Heart+
-Silence-Breaker-
..Whisper..Unbeliever..
//Thunder//Heart//
((Kamorigachi))((Unbeliever))
::Aphrodyte::Heart::
>Apache<>Unbeliever<
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[×] a [†] z [¤] y [»]
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« Reply #11 on Apr 23, 2007, 8:19pm » | |
>.. a l i c i a ..<
[×]Her nape stretched forward, shaking as it did so, the strands on her neck flitting to one side, then back to the other. As she regained her position, the femme's receptors felt the stag gently kick her legs as he spoke to the Mustang hellion. This was getting boring, didn't they have anything to amuse her with? so, she started watching. Everything that Seventh said? Okay, she had to admit, not everything was true. I mean, most of Silence's bulk was muscle, and he didn't daintily dance his framework into the terra, did he? His words weren't bold, but you could tell in his voice that his personality was contradictory to his name. A smile cracked onto her facade, for her optics noted one other thing, even though he had no position as of now, he would at least die trying to fight for one. She considered this weak, for any emotions reflecting off the pools gave away everything right away, though she doubted the Heart's words would be bright enough to figure that out, at least, without blushing and flapping their eyelids at each other.
[×] "Seventh... Oh, my Seventh..."
[×] She noticed, now, after reflecting on what she had thought before, that she was doing exactly what her thoughts had crossed out and left for the other believers. But this was different. Her kind of ways were for rivalry. They made others Fall. Whatever goes, it was going to be fun. She didn't want to create conflict between the two, so her pillars took a motion and she fell out of sync with the others. Taking a few mores steps, a willing and deceitful(though almost no one could tell), smile on her face, happiness glinting off her pools to hide what was masked underneath, she seemed to glide toward Seventh Son, his muscular framework seeming to bulge out of his build. 'Was it even possible?' She thought with a laugh. 'Only in my Seventh'. A light smirk was whipped onto her maw as she cantered a tight circle, her hind pillars never leaving the ground. It looked a bit like dancing, but not another move she knew that also always caught the glinting glass orbs of the hellions, but she would show that later. Not having done that one for at least a few half years, Seventh would be the first one to see it. Unless Silence would win her heart. If Seventh already had. Because you can't win something from someone that no one even had. If Seventh already had. |
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.sometimes...
a fight can mend or build
a friendship...
larger than it tore.
×†×†× ¤»¤»¤ ×†×†× ¤»¤»¤ ׆׆×
i want you to know...
timeless...
will always be my bff.
and yes...
it was i...
that exalted her...
when we were in that fight.4.18
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timeless
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Karma: 0 | | Re: Claim!
« Reply #12 on Apr 28, 2007, 12:02pm » | |
Seventh gave a snort at the mustang's response, ignoring Alicia's comment. So, maybe the boy had learned that it wasn't easy to gain the trust of a crazy man. He listened as the coltish stag listed his boasts, which really weren't such good ones. To give a subtle reminder how unintimidating the little termite was to him, Seventh moved a bit to the left, into a small patch of sunlight, so that his scars from previous battles glistened menacingly. He bared his teeth in a silent snork of laughter, eyes guffawing at the prissy colt. "Oh, you little devil you give an old man a hearty laugh. If not filth, then would you prefer the name roadkill? I shouldn't be talking, but don't go around being all c.ocky and haughty; the only reason I do it is--" Seventh stopped abruptly, eyes narrowed in suspicion. He sure wasn't going to open up to a stranger, and a weak little thing at that. He gave a weak chuckle and continued. "Well, little man, what if I think your words are of fable? All talk, no skills; I can very easily patch the description to you, boy."
Seventh examined the colt's face intently, a sneer wizening on his already smirking kissers. He was hot-headed, that was for sure, else he wouldn't become angry so easily. Though anger mkes you powerful, it also makes you reckless; at least he had enough experience to know that. It wasn't good to be angry, unless you were completely sure the circumstances were right for a nice burst of energy. If his wick could be lit so easily, how could he hope to lead any sort of herd, in any sort of position? Seventh needed a stone-hard war general, one that could look a tsunami in the face and calmly turn around to give orders, not some childish idiot feuled by hopes and good intention.
Another layer of stench was blanketed onto the already heavy air, though Seventh Son had already been here long enough to have gotten used to the most part of the odor. Ear pricked as a deer met its fate; for whatever reason the deer fell into the demon river, the bright blood didn't make a difference whatsoever to the murky waters; that was how polluted it was. The deer hadn't even had time to give a bloodrattling screech, like it was in stories. It didn't have time to say a few last, noble words, like often what happened in fantasies, because that's all they were: fantasies. Death is not ever completely expected. It is unpredictable. You have to respect it and give it a wide berth; Seventh knew that too, and played cards with Death's cheating hand in spite of it. The deer was gone in a whoosh as a sickening crunch thudded in his ears as the sweeping currents hungrily tore apart its carcass, leaving nothing but a murky black spot in the far bank of the river. He smiled inwardly, determined to tame its powers, or at least make the river know him. He wasn't going ot get along with any part of this territory if he couldn't control his Crooked River.
Audits lowered, smothering the sound of the stag's lightish voice, not deep or brutish like a good Breaker's at all. He breathed out in a semisnort and rolled his eyes, sneer shrinking as he responded to the little man's last speech. "Noble, aren't you? I don't care if the fight is long, because I will crush your face into teh dirt if I must to teach you that there is no such thing as 'easy' in my world," he told his with a malicious glint in his eye. He hadn't fought for so long, he was so hyped up, he even forgot his peculiar little disability. Aw, but what the hell? He needed a good warm-up soon.
done!
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fights are risky; it's all or nothing.
luff you forever
Fantasy//Heart's
Joker//Unbeliever
Seventh Son//Breaking
Nameless//Unbeliever
Izumi//Unbeliever
Qing Shu//Unbeliever |
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Karma: 0 | | Re: Claim!
« Reply #13 on Apr 30, 2007, 9:29pm » | |
The older, bigger stallion swerved his head to look at Silence, eyes lit with silent laughter. You could tell he clearly thought that the ebony stag's challenge was merely a joke, nothing compared to him. The mustang then noticed Seventh Son open his maw to speak, so he listened, curious to know what his reply was. Mmph, it was as expected, now Silence's request had been granted, as he was no longer filth, but roadkill, but then again, should the stallion really have expected more from the scathing, c.ocky paint. Seventh Son actually started to say something worth listening to, when he broke off, obviously aware he was about to open up to a complete stranger, or "boy" as the paint had "fondly" nicknamed Silence, who's temper was beginning to climb up a mountain, gradually getting closer and closer to the peak.
The black stallion noticed that Seventh Son did not get angry quickly like most big-headed horses usually did, but kept a cool head and kept referring to Silence as a colt, or boy. "Ppht, colt indeed," The mustang thought sarcastically, as he observed the muscular paint quietly, trying to pinpoint a weak spot, but it was hard in the rough shadow that he was standing in. But, soon enough, that problem evaporated as Seventh Son stepped into the light, as if to show off his numerous scars, obviously gained from previous battles. Silence's kissers curled into a defiant smirk, glaring at the elder stallion who was inspecting the river which was twisted around the forest behind the charcoal horse, who realized that it was a deer who had tread fallen into the lethal river, only to be ripped up and consumed by its toxic waters.
Just as he was about to turn to glance at the river, Seventh Sons attention went back to him, so he did not move his head and waited for whatever useless, degrading phrase the paint might say next. Turns out it was a reply to Silence's initial challenge, the challenge to battle, to prove he was not weak or pathetic as it appeared in the piebalds scorching eyes. The conceited stallion said something about crushing the younger stallions face into the ground, and something about the "colt" being noble and such, but the mustang was not exactly listening carefully, only picking up the details that stood out, since he was tired of Seventh Sons taunting remarks, and now had half the mind to leave. However, somewhere in the back of his mind, the stag knew that if he were to leave, Seventh Son would most likely take it as a cowardly act and only have the memory of a weak, pathetic horse in his memory, which would not do, oh no. Silence would show him, prove that he was not a colt, but a horse, a stallion, but that would require battle, which would first need a response.
"You can try to crush me, attempt to crush me, and perhaps you will, due to your bulky size, but it will not be easy, but you can try," Silence challenged boldly, kissers curled into a smirk as he glared defiantly at Seventh Son. He may have been smaller and younger, but he was skilled in battle, and far stronger than the piebald had recognized him as.
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+Emeralia+Heart+
-Silence-Breaker-
..Whisper..Unbeliever..
//Thunder//Heart//
((Kamorigachi))((Unbeliever))
::Aphrodyte::Heart::
>Apache<>Unbeliever<
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