Post by Rute on May 11, 2007 21:02:01 GMT -5
Figured I'd join the first dark mare.
Cursed At Birth: Rute
Chaos For As Long As: Five
Bloodlines Contain: Friesian
One After Another Step: Valkyrie
Painted By Satan: Stygian
Stains Contain: None
At A Stand Still: 16.3
General Temper: Not at all laid back, an very tempermental. Like one big constant anger ball after another.
Persona: Snarky and cold, cannot reach for help when she most needs it. Hates all other life to a point, and only goes after those that are as dark as her, if not more. Loyal when you can earn respect, otherwise, you're in for a world of hurt.
Role Play:
She was friesian, there was no mistake about it. From far away any could tell, tall, dark and feathered limbs. But one thing from far away you could not tell, was her hormone status or her scents. She was infact, stained with Shaw's scent. You may have been able to find a hint of Sheshe, as she had spoken to her. Look close enough and you will find not only her heat cycle finished, but it would not come around until she had gained and lost pounds. But by the losing stage she would have a thing following her about like a puppy for its master. She snorted with the very thought of it. She had had two foals before this one, and each one was deceased. Of course, it was her own doing. This one, she mused, would most likely share the same fate. She currently had no purpose for them, and there wasn't a brute on Earth she found worthy of keeping her restained from doing what she wished. The only ones she would have found worthy were deep, deep, within hell. But they were gnoe. And for now she had to content herself with vagabonds one the Earths crust. Waking from her thoughts she looked up. Uh, hum. The autumn had begun, and she welcomed it, in a way. The hot summer sun was often too much for her, causing sweat beads to roll down her dark hide. She let a devilish screech loose form her mug, calling for another. It was obviously the call of a dark, and it was obviously calling for one. She didn't want to take to lights, she hated them without a passion. They could all fall dead. She didn't wish for nuetrals, they were prone to mood swings in her opionion, since they were neither light nor dark. She wanted a dark. Preferably stallion. She wanted to stir up trouble, although her plan had not yet been releashed. She had Shaw, Sheshe had been stolen. Shaw. Provided her with the growing pest within her, and "welcomed" her to his lands. She had not seen him since. Perfect. This gave her time to start something. Anything. Her ebony physique stopped. Audi flicked forth from their laced position, cool breeze making her threads lick at her hocks like flames. What she wanted, was to find a dark brute worthy of her.
She planned to lure whatever stag came to her into her plot, and with luck he would try to steal her away from Shaw. Then Shaw would either block or fight, or unluckily give up, and a whole fuding mess would occur. And she'd be there to sit and watch. She loved bloodshed. She loved to do it, she loved to watch it, taste it, see it, smell it, create it. Anything that caused pain to another. She loved. She snorted, clearing her mind. Another short cry was emitted from her mug and she stamped a single flint impatiently. With that she drifted into thoughts, while one audi casually flicked for sounds of approchers.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are..."
Hey tones purred. It was their natural state. They were also the words she used to dare Shaw "out of the shadows" which led to her claiming. She liked to dare those to come out. It seemed they saw that they had to try and knock her down a peg. She let out a laugh at the thought. No one had ever knocked her down. She was in a good mood today. As good, she supposed, as a dark could get. She wasn't smiling, but she also wasn't scowling. She wasn't ready to murdur, but she wasn't about to prance around either. She merely stood, a gentle-type look on her facial features. At least any approaching from the front would know not to disturb her quiet peacfullness, sort off. For even in a state of happiness, she was still deadly. But approach from behind, especially if you try and touch her and she'll whip around and lash at you so fast you won't be able to think "What the hell is wrong with this crazy pregnant dog?" That was a question normally directed to her. The exact words. Okay maybe it went more like "What the hell is wrong with you, you crazy little...?" You get the point. She shrugged the thought, mind drifting away and optics clouding over. If it had not been for her distrust around almost everyone, she surely would have slipped away into a blanket of nothing-ness, but she remained attentive, slightly, with one auditive. The other fell into relaxation. Bottom lip drooped slightly, not at all attractive, lids closed part way, dully. She shifted positions once more, resting a single limb. Muscles relaxed, but tensed every once and awhile, ready to strike.
Post has a lot of typos. Wrote it a looooooooong time ago.
Cursed At Birth: Rute
Chaos For As Long As: Five
Bloodlines Contain: Friesian
One After Another Step: Valkyrie
Painted By Satan: Stygian
Stains Contain: None
At A Stand Still: 16.3
General Temper: Not at all laid back, an very tempermental. Like one big constant anger ball after another.
Persona: Snarky and cold, cannot reach for help when she most needs it. Hates all other life to a point, and only goes after those that are as dark as her, if not more. Loyal when you can earn respect, otherwise, you're in for a world of hurt.
Role Play:
She was friesian, there was no mistake about it. From far away any could tell, tall, dark and feathered limbs. But one thing from far away you could not tell, was her hormone status or her scents. She was infact, stained with Shaw's scent. You may have been able to find a hint of Sheshe, as she had spoken to her. Look close enough and you will find not only her heat cycle finished, but it would not come around until she had gained and lost pounds. But by the losing stage she would have a thing following her about like a puppy for its master. She snorted with the very thought of it. She had had two foals before this one, and each one was deceased. Of course, it was her own doing. This one, she mused, would most likely share the same fate. She currently had no purpose for them, and there wasn't a brute on Earth she found worthy of keeping her restained from doing what she wished. The only ones she would have found worthy were deep, deep, within hell. But they were gnoe. And for now she had to content herself with vagabonds one the Earths crust. Waking from her thoughts she looked up. Uh, hum. The autumn had begun, and she welcomed it, in a way. The hot summer sun was often too much for her, causing sweat beads to roll down her dark hide. She let a devilish screech loose form her mug, calling for another. It was obviously the call of a dark, and it was obviously calling for one. She didn't want to take to lights, she hated them without a passion. They could all fall dead. She didn't wish for nuetrals, they were prone to mood swings in her opionion, since they were neither light nor dark. She wanted a dark. Preferably stallion. She wanted to stir up trouble, although her plan had not yet been releashed. She had Shaw, Sheshe had been stolen. Shaw. Provided her with the growing pest within her, and "welcomed" her to his lands. She had not seen him since. Perfect. This gave her time to start something. Anything. Her ebony physique stopped. Audi flicked forth from their laced position, cool breeze making her threads lick at her hocks like flames. What she wanted, was to find a dark brute worthy of her.
She planned to lure whatever stag came to her into her plot, and with luck he would try to steal her away from Shaw. Then Shaw would either block or fight, or unluckily give up, and a whole fuding mess would occur. And she'd be there to sit and watch. She loved bloodshed. She loved to do it, she loved to watch it, taste it, see it, smell it, create it. Anything that caused pain to another. She loved. She snorted, clearing her mind. Another short cry was emitted from her mug and she stamped a single flint impatiently. With that she drifted into thoughts, while one audi casually flicked for sounds of approchers.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are..."
Hey tones purred. It was their natural state. They were also the words she used to dare Shaw "out of the shadows" which led to her claiming. She liked to dare those to come out. It seemed they saw that they had to try and knock her down a peg. She let out a laugh at the thought. No one had ever knocked her down. She was in a good mood today. As good, she supposed, as a dark could get. She wasn't smiling, but she also wasn't scowling. She wasn't ready to murdur, but she wasn't about to prance around either. She merely stood, a gentle-type look on her facial features. At least any approaching from the front would know not to disturb her quiet peacfullness, sort off. For even in a state of happiness, she was still deadly. But approach from behind, especially if you try and touch her and she'll whip around and lash at you so fast you won't be able to think "What the hell is wrong with this crazy pregnant dog?" That was a question normally directed to her. The exact words. Okay maybe it went more like "What the hell is wrong with you, you crazy little...?" You get the point. She shrugged the thought, mind drifting away and optics clouding over. If it had not been for her distrust around almost everyone, she surely would have slipped away into a blanket of nothing-ness, but she remained attentive, slightly, with one auditive. The other fell into relaxation. Bottom lip drooped slightly, not at all attractive, lids closed part way, dully. She shifted positions once more, resting a single limb. Muscles relaxed, but tensed every once and awhile, ready to strike.
Post has a lot of typos. Wrote it a looooooooong time ago.
