Black Thorns
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Post by Black Thorns on Aug 2, 2011 13:32:56 GMT -5
Uhm. No song. Sona needs one. Ramaskith snorted at her words, moving down her body. "You tell such pretty lies," he whispered. Lies. Yes, this stag was just as distrustful as he was before- just as unbelieving of her. She was no liar. However, of course, she should have to make him believe that. She sighed softly as tingles went down her spine, his gentle touch welcomed. Though this wasn't what he did to her before... No. Before it was not soft, and gentle, it was pained... And Sonalane loved the pain. Sharp teth scarped along her hindquarters, and Sonalane smiled. Yes. Here was the pain she wanted. Of course, she should like it better if there was more... Her twisted smile deepened as he dug his daggers into her skin, blood beginning to drip as he licked it away. She wanted more. More. The pain was sweet, sensitizing... She wanted nothing but a battle, here, some type of battle ending not in death but in pleasure... He was most definitely angry with her, and this only made her even more joyed. She could fight him off should he try to kill her, but for now... now there was pain. And she would focus on that pain. She twisted her head, digging her own teeth into his rump. She wanted him to bite her again... And again... and again... Ramaskith pressed his head against her hindquarters, his barrel rising slowly and evenly. He should know she wasn't in heat- that much was obvious. She had a very regular heat cyle, one never broken in her 4 years of heat. Though, of course, it could happen that there was going to be some day, some time when that cycle could be broken- and of course she would not let him breed her then. She was not to have another foal. They had sworn this, and Sona was a mare of her word. Suddenly the weight was off of her, her lover distracted as another mare's scent wafted through the air. Sona pinned her ears, snorting in annoyance. Who was she to interrupt the two? Her furies vanished as Ramaskith soon turned to stand behind her, nudging away her tail... and Sona moved it gladly. The stag mounted her quickly, the pushing sending small waves of pleasure through her... though he wasn't biting her while he did... However, the pushing hardly began before Ramaskith slid of and kicked out at her, the hooves connecting with her flesh but not breaking it. He snorted angrily, whipping around to stare at her with flaming eyes. Before he continued speaking, Sona's glance flickered downwards briefly before turning back to his face. His obvious arousal proved that he wasn't finished- so why had he dismounted so suddenly? Her body ached for it back again, but she knew she wouldn't when he began to speak to her. "I would kill you right this moment, but I have other manners to attend to," he spat, turning away and racing off in the direction of the mare she had glimpsed earlier. Softly spoken words in the Ancient Tounge tickled her auds, and Sona flattened her ears tightly against her head, snapping her tail back and forth in annoyance. Ramaskith was hers, and hers alone. She knew more of him than anyone should ever know! How dare that mare call him her pet! How...dare...she! Sona's eyes flashed, thinking again of the phantom. Who was this stupid mare- this mare, her scent far more attractive than Sona's? The stupid mare still smelled as if she was in heat. Carefully Sona began to move in the opposite direction of the pair, dipping into the cover of the trees. She moved through the trees, trying her hardest not to let her steady, warrior's march be heard. Eventually she was close enough to see the pair- and not only see, but hear them as well. Sona fought to remain soundless as her Ramaskith began to speak again. The Rama who would hurt and kill without a thought. But was he still her rama? He had to be. Sona pressed her lips together as he spoke. "We meet again, ma chere..." Ramaskith growled, stepping closer. Her mind began to race with possibilities, each one eeming to make her heart drop down further into her stomach, a lump rising in her throat. He would hurt her... and not Sona? He would mount her and not Sona. He would leave Sona just as Sona had left him. Her eyes squeezed shut in jealousy as Rama threatened the mare with his stance. Oh yes. Sona would make this mare pay for taking away her Rama...
--behind the post-- 783 words I see a fighttt
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lady shady
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Post by lady shady on Aug 2, 2011 17:14:28 GMT -5
Sheba He made your heart melt But you're cold to the core [/i][/size][/right] He came. Lunging through the woods, he pursued her, driven by the spirit lurking inside his mind. Sheba suppressed a scream of triumph as he barred her way with his massive body, fury radiating off of him, daring her to go any further. "We meet again, ma chéri," he murmured, coming closer. She didn't move her hooves, only raised her head so that she was looking up at him through her mist-colored eyelashes and snowy forelock. "Why, of course we do, mon prince" she answered softly. "We seem to have some unfinished business, if I do recall correctly?" She stood still, refusing to touch him, eyes stony behind those soft, long lashes. Sheba reveled in the power seeping from his figure, power no mere earthly horse could possess. All of this...hers for the taking. All of this; this was who had sired her foal. The foal. No need to tell him about it now, she thought as she studied him; she'd only use that information as insurance if she was forced to. Besides, how would he have any idea of what he'd done? He certainly hadn't seemed to know what he was doing the last time they had met. Last time, she had slipped through death's grasp. This time, she wasn't so sure if she would be able to again. But if he was going to try and kill her, why not let him have a little game first?
She began to pace before him now, tossing her tail, taking tiny, dainty steps. She would hold his attention a little longer, speak to him in that ancient language he so liked. It was strange, the more time she spent in his presence, the more fluent she became. It was as if memories were coming back to her; memories that she had not forgotten but had purposely buried deep within her brain with all of the other secrets of her past. A soothing female voice singing to her in the language of the Ancients, telling her tales, comforting her...'Papa reviens, mon petite chou chou, ne t'inquiètes pas...'. She flicked her ears in irritation, willing her mother's voice out of her head. That had been when she had barely come into this world. Before...before...when horses had still been familiar with the language of the Ancients, when the war was raging around them, when she still had had a father. The mother speaking to her in the ancient tongue--that was not the mother she knew. Her mother was fearful, cowardly, and she despised her for it.
"Je sais que tu veux me tuer maintenant, mon prince. Mais pour quoi? Pour quoi maintenant? Il y a un or deux jeux que je pense tu aimerais...et les regles sont très simple." [/i] She paused again, waving her tail hypnotically, enticingly, inviting him closer. "Pour quoi est-ce que tu veux me tuer maintenant quand tu peux jouer avant que cela?" Anger still glittered in his eyes, sparking from deep within. If she were to persuade his body, she'd need to persuade the spirit too. Speaking regularly now, so there would be no mistake as to her intentions, she looked up into Rama's face, no longer adressing him, but the spirit. "Why kill me now before you know my secrets? When there could be something in this for you? Are you really worried that I can escape you again? Take what you can while you have it. Because I know you're no fool," she hissed in a barely audible whisper meant for Rama's ears only. Studying him coldly, she paused in her pacing. With a barely perceptible twitch, she swished her tail out of the way, showing him what he might have if he wanted. A chance to start over, to kill her this time right afterwards, before she could wriggle away...Her scent surrounded them, designed to intoxicate him, filling the air. She locked her eyes on his powerful frame. Yes. If she was destined to die, she would do so under his hooves. --behind the post-- 712 words slightly modified lyrics of Rumour Has It (thank you Thorny ;) The French is all my own, I just plugged it into google translate to make sure we don't have any more 'fart' moments xD I didn't change any of the dialogue that's still there as I deemed it good enough. Practicing the language makes me smile. Please don't kill her yet![/left][/size]
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Post by aPPY on Aug 2, 2011 17:37:09 GMT -5
ramaskith "Why, of course we do, mon prince," the mare said, "We seem to have some unfinished business, if I do recall correctly?" The spirit smiled, stepping up the other mare. Yes, they did have unfinished business. The fact that she stood there in front of him was the truth of it. She should be on the ground and lifeless; but she still lived. She had slipped through their fingers as he had told Rama she would. But he didn't believe him, and now, the mare couldn't rely on Rama's poor judgement. He was in control, not the soft hearted beast inside him. The mare began to walk back and forth in front of him then, and he followed her motion with his eyes. Her tail moved back and forth; high in the air in that way the Egyptian breeds do. Her scent coated the air; it spoke to him. "Je sais que tu veux me tuer maintenant, mon prince. Mais pour quoi? Pour quoi maintenant? Il y a un or deux jeux que je pense tu aimerais...et les regles sont très simple." the mare said, speaking in his language. He wanted to kill her because he could and because he liked to. He loved the feeling of stealing someone's life. She wouldn't understand this so he didn't speak. He didn't particularly care about this other game so was speaking of, and he wasn't much one for rules. He made the rules up as he went, he didn't learn them. Pour quoi est-ce que tu veux me tuer maintenant quand tu peux jouer avant que cela?" He didn't want to play anymore. He wasn't falling for her tricks this time. She would die. He could play games with this other mare who had appeared if he wished, but these games with the grey mare were done. Rama had his fun, now it was his turn.
"Why kill me now before you know my secrets? When there could be something in this for you? Are you really worried that I can escape you again? Take what you can while you have it. Because I know you're no fool," the mare said, her voice low. No, he wasn't a fool. Rama was the fool. He had fallen for the mare's tricks the first time. The mare paused in front of him, sliding her tail away and leaving the choice up to him. "No, I am not a fool," he said, walking up towards the grey figure. Her scent was very sweet and alluring but he had complete control of his body now. Rama wasn't going to break though and neither would the body. He smiled coldly, grazing his teeth along her rump but continuing to walk along side her body. She would regret offering herself this way, so open and unprotected. He paused at her shoulder, quickly striking out with one of his front hooves; solidly smacking into her side. He wasn't playing games.
// 512 words watch yourself, sheba
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lady shady
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Post by lady shady on Aug 4, 2011 1:48:53 GMT -5
Sheba I heard you've been missing me You've been telling people things that you shouldn't be [/i] [/right][/size] His eyes grew even darker as she attempted to placate him the way she had before. But of course. Rama was too intelligent to enjoy the same tricks over and over again, he wanted something new. Something to fascinate him. He came even closer, towering over her. She could smell the blood from the wound that the other mare had reopened. Grinning wickedly, he raked his teeth down her back. Catching her breath at the sharp pulling, she closed her eyes. The spirit must be here now. Just as she thought this, he struck out at her side, showing her that that kind of play wouldn't satisfy him this time. "Im nobody's fool," he hissed, taking pleasure in the pain he was inflicting. Pleasure in pain. Understandable. She herself preferred inflicting emotional torture, but Rama was much more...physical than that. Of course that was what he'd want. Which was why he wanted her dead. Did the spirit want her, though? Or would it settle for ripping out any entrails, smashing any bones? Her mind flickered venomously to the other one. The mare hiding herself in the trees nearby. The mare Rama had almost...it was too much. Cold hatred rose in her soul, almost tangible in the air around her.
Keeping her voice low, she stood and spoke to him, not moving away from his touch. "Oui, mon prince, il y a ces jeux. Amusant, bien sûr, mais pas comme les autres jeux. Et je crois que tu est plus...familiere avec ces jeux nouveaux. Je crois, mon prince, que tu sais comment on tue, comment on se battre. Comment la vie d'un autre echappe si vite. Si vite comme ca..." [/i] Here her muzzle snaked out and snapped at his shoulder, drawing warm red blood forth from his veins. "Tu aimes les jeux comme ca, les jeux avec juste un qui gagne à la fin. Pardonne, prince, je me trompe. J'ai dit que les regles sont simple. Mais il n y a pas des regles."Narrowing her eyes, she glared up at him. "You say you are not a fool. But only fools destroy blindly. And in the end, they destroy themselves. And I promise you, Ramaskith--" she spat his name as if it were a curse-- "I promise you, that if you destroy me now, you will lose a piece of yourself. A piece you were so unwise as to fail to protect. A piece I have stolen. And no, my prince, this is not something emotional. For I know you have no emotion. This is something much more..." --here, she slithered along his side, wrapping the ivory tresses of her tail around his fetlocks-- "...physical" she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear. "Do you remember?""Let us not allow that to spoil our fun though, my prince. For there is another here, who may amuse you quite well. One who is so presumptuous so as to call you her love, though you have told the world that you are no one's. I'm sure that she would love to play our little game..."She stared into the trees in the direction she had seen her, adrenaline and hatred mixing in her veins. --behind the post-- 569 words Rumour Has It odd way to tell him she's pregnant, but it's out now. she didn't have much choice xD Dun kill her yet, pwease? If she absolutely must die, I may have an idea for it later.[/left][/size]
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Black Thorns
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A writer starts a book. A reader finishes it.
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Post by Black Thorns on Aug 4, 2011 10:22:21 GMT -5
still no song. :/ Sona very nearly attacked the mare as she stood there, speaking in soft, sensual tones to her[/] ange. He should not be claimed by one who she did not know, one who was not her! Ramaskith was not anyone else's, and she knew, she knew he would come back to her... He, the twisted thing, the one who loved pain, and killing, and torture... and her... Yes. She remembered playing his little games- ones he loved, ones that were unmistakably fatal if one wrong move was played- but she liked that, that danger. THough there was a fine line between his games, and those times when he was truly angry with her. When he was truly angry with her... there was no intention but to kill her, in the end. If that was her Rama out there, that ange de la tortures, he surely was wishing for death to her and wasn't making silly threats. Her body, obsccured by the trees, observed in silent rage as the mare began to twist around Rama. She wanted to move out, attack, kill- the warrior beast in her screamed at her to do just that; she most certainly could- yet she stood, unmoving and silent. Her ears twitched as she spoke, testing him, tempting him to do as she wished by simply challenging him to do things to her. Snorting quietly, she shook her head at the statement that "The rules are simple." "Oh, yes, I do love to play games, ma cheri, but you must understand that I never play by the rules..." soft words echoed in her ears, the whisper of remembered touch tickling along her skin. She closed her eyes briefly, trying to will back the memory as it spilled out of her hands, as if it were water. As she opened her eyes, the disgusting mare lifted and moved her tail to the side, offering herself completely to him. Unprotected. He was angry with the mare- angry, purely angry; there was no lust or desire in that expression or stance. Ramaskith moved closer to the mare, and Sona turned her head just the tiniest bit to refrain from seeing his mating, from watching him breed the mare. Yet, when a moment passed after his hissing words and there were no soft sounds of pleasure, she turned back. He was grazing his teeth along her hindquarters as he moved closer to her head, pausing to kick out at her shoulder. Here it came. The fight, the pain, then... then she, his queen, would be forgotten. Ha! Forgotten! He didn't even remember her name! She was his everything- his advocate, his adviser, his mate, his warrior, his general of the armies. And he didn't remember her one bit. Yet he certainly seemed to remember this mare... The mare who began to speak once again. From her lips came the words on the Ancient Tongue, trying to repair the mistakes that she had made. Her teeth snapped out at him, drawing away blood. Just as she had done so many times before... the scars alone proved it true. Yet, as her expression grew angry, her words were clear in the New Tongue, the one taught as the war dwindled out, as the lands were split. "Only fools destroy blindly, and in the end they destroy themselves," the mare spoke, trying to inject some messed-up wisdom into the words she spoke. This mare did not know. It was not blindly- it was those who opposed. Those who listened, bent to their will, those lived. The warriors would live. This mare... this mare wasn't a warrior. A temptress was what she was- but certainly, should it come to a real fight, the mare would be destroyed far too easily. She never remembered seeing this mare in the war- and should she have been, Sona should remember. She was some type of weak thing, something that couldn't bear to mar her pretty little coat, because oh GOD! WHat if it scarred her? What if it made her less gorgeous? Less perfect? The vain creature... Her teeth ground together, trying to refrain from going up and slashing apart that ivory coat. Oh, too bad, pretty thing, she thought, you would hurt your perfectness... All stained and scarred, slashed open, likely dead. Sona wanted to see her innards spill across the ground, watch her blood run in dark rivers down the slight slope, let the ground feed off of her life. Let her body rot out in the sun, maggots eating away at her, vultures picking at her flesh. As she listened, the mare began to speak of Ramaskith losing himself, should he kill her- what, did the mare think he cared that much? He couldn't, not with Sona here. Not when Sona would end up making him remember. Not when SOna was that key to his memory. Yes. Sona could play some interesting games with this... Twist him. Mess with his memories... Tell him some things, but not others. Lie to him. Make him even more twisted, cruel... More hers. More her Ramaskith... The mare continued, speaking of physically losing a part of him- Physically? No. It couldn't be. The stupid whore of a mare was pregnant, now? If that mare had his foal- oh, oh SOna would be so very angry. That mare should hope for a miscarriage, or perhaps Sona should simply rip apart the mare's stomach until she got to the child, until she got to the developing thing and tore it apart as well. Maybe it would be born, and Sona would kill it then. The foal wouldn't be strong enough... Sona wouldn't let it be strong enough. Make it fight her. If it did not hurt her she would kill it, kill it without a moment of regret. Rama would not carry on in something that was not bred by her. No. Never. If anyone was to have his foal, it would be Sona. She would do it. Yes. Kill that demon spawn. Her body froze for a moment as the mare spoke again, pointed towards her. "Let us not allow that to spoil our fun though, my prince. For there is another here, who may amuse you quite well. One who is so presumptuous so as to call you her love, though you have told the world that you are no one's. I'm sure that she would love to play our little game..." OUR LITTLE GAME? This mare had NO GAMES with HER Ramaskith. She lies. The stupid bitch-whore lies... She cared not that she was spotted- hell, right now she'd kill her without a second thought, and she could fight off Ramaskith just fine, thank you- but that the mare thought that Sona did not posses Rama, that she was not his mate, that she wasn't the one playing these fucking games. Her ears pinned back to tightly that, if they were pinned any further, they'd be shoving through her skull. Her eyes narrowed, her body tensing, teeth clenching, tail whipping back and forth. There was no mistaking her for anything but murderously raged. Her footsteps were slow, loud, distincly meant to draw attention. "You," she hissed to the mare, "Have no claim. In fact..." her eyes flicked to the swelling ivory stomach, "You shouldn't worry about your little mistake there. I can fix that quite easily." She fought to keep herself from ripping apart the mare, digging her flints into the ground- trying to imagine it as her flesh, though that was little help to her. "Et, contrairement à vous semblez croire, je parle pas la langue ancienne avec une facilité couramment. Oui. Je peux entendre chaque parole que vous direz, murmure. Je peux le comprendre parfaitement. Si vous avez été sage, ma putain douce petite chienne, vous devez garder à l'esprit," Sona growled, the smooth, sweet language sharp and rough with her anger. Words were senseless to her, spewing forth without her charm, cunning, thoughfulness. She did not care for words right now. She wanted to speak the language of the flesh, and that language was one she was far more experienced in than this mare... Unable to refrain from even touching this mare, Sona lashe dout, ripping away a good bit of the mare's neck with her teeth. The warrior of her screamed for her to sontinue, to fight and kill, to destroy this mare and her stupid fetus. Yet Sona managed to control this urge, keeping her eyes on the mare, silent fury blazing about her. This mare would pay... Without moving her locked gaze from the mare, she spoke to Ramaskith. He really didn't bother her at this moment. Oh, but when he struck out in anything but the game... "Ne m'interrompez pas en ce moment. Si vous vous sentez quelque chose de la colère, la haine, quelle que soit-pour cette chienne, n'essayez pas de m'arrêter. Ne même pas me toucher. Si vous avez choisi de ... Eh bien, mon ange de la torture, nous verrons cela plus tard." Her tail swished as she prepared for another strike from the mare. Let her see if the mare wanted to fight back... Because what fun was a fight with someone who wouldn't respond?
--behind the post-- 1579 words It kind of stopped making sense when it got to the latest post by shady... I was too pissed off to think clearly. Seriously. I'm worked up enough to want to go hurt something. o.e
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Post by aPPY on Aug 5, 2011 13:49:21 GMT -5
ramaskith The mare started to speak again, in the ancient tongue. The words were uninteresting and tiresome and he stopped listening half way through. She snaked her head around and bit into his shoulder and he snapped at her in return, blood blossoming on her neck. He snorted loudly, words continuing to spill from her mouth. She glared at him, speaking in the shared language that everyone used these days. "You say you are not a fool. But only fools destroy blindly. And in the end, they destroy themselves. And I promise you, Ramaskith--" she hissed his name, throwing it from her mouth as if it were poison, "I promise you, that if you destroy me now, you will lose a piece of yourself. A piece you were so unwise as to fail to protect. A piece I have stolen. And no, my prince, this is not something emotional. For I know you have no emotion. This is something much more..." she walked beside him, her tail sliding down his legs and around his ankles. His ears pinned as she walked next to him, not liking her proximity. "...physical," she said, "Do you remember?" Remember what? Then it dawned on him. He stiffened, the spirit retreating fast and Rama taking his place. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn't possibly kill her like he had planned, could he?
"Let us not allow that to spoil our fun though, my prince. For there is another here, who may amuse you quite well. One who is so presumptuous so as to call you her love, though you have told the world that you are no one's. I'm sure that she would love to play our little game..."
Ramaskith turned to look in the trees, his movements slow and tense. The spirit started to curse him, claiming that if they had just killed the grey mare when they had the chance, none of this would have happened. Which, of course, was true, but they couldn't change the past. The other mare, the buckskin; Sonalane. She stepped from the trees, out of her hiding spot the anger clear in her face and the tone in which she spoke. "You have no claim. In fact... You shouldn't worry about your little mistake there. I can fix that quite easily." She seemed to want to do just that, destroy the mare and the growing child. His child. She continued in the ancient language, her voice growling and her body vibrating with rage. Her control slipped though, and she bit into the grey mare's neck. He jumped forward, immediately wanting to protect the grey mare. Not the mare herself, but what was growing inside.
"Ne m'interrompez pas en ce moment. Si vous vous sentez quelque chose de la colère, la haine, quelle que soit-pour cette chienne, n'essayez pas de m'arrêter. Ne même pas me toucher. Si vous avez choisi de ... Eh bien, mon ange de la torture, nous verrons cela plus tard."
The buckskin spoke to him and he narrowed his eyes. "Vous n'avez pas le droit de me dire quoi faire, fille impertinente peu," he snapped, angry with this mare who had just appeared and acted like she owned him. He snorted again, stepping up to her angrily. "Vous devez apprendre votre lieu," he stated, his voice rumbling into the air, "Ou le risque de me faire fâcher." He finished with a growl vibrating in his throat. He wouldn't hesitate to kill this mare, she was becoming very irritating. It didn't matter if she seemed to know him and his past. At this point, he didn't care as long as she shut up and behaved herself.
// 629 words rama is loosing his patience.
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lady shady
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Post by lady shady on Aug 8, 2011 15:49:17 GMT -5
Sheba You're always closing the door But it only makes me want you more [/i][/right] πThe mare burst from the trees, furious, striking at Sheba's neck. She pinned her ears at this unwelcome mare. The pain from the bite mixed with the pain that Rama had inflicted. These two, so impulsive. Though irritated by the faint throb of her scarlet-stained neck, Sheba simply smiled coldly up at the mare. Both she and Rama, thinking that they were their own masters, while they allowed their anger at her to control them. Passion would not do any more, for Rama was by her side now, and that mare before her would not interfere. Curbing her desire to greet the buckskin mare in the same way that she had been greeted herself, she stood, struggling to contain her amusement at the mare's hate-filled speech in the Ancient tongue. The buckskin was bristling, ready to attack her again with more force, and Sheba's mind raced, turning over strategy after strategy. The mare did the work for her though. Turning to Rama, she hissed at him not to interrupt her as she attacked. The pale stag pinned his ears at her command. Apparently the mare had forgotten that Rama was 'nobody's pet'. The prince moved between them now, and Sheba's mind purred in satisfaction. Her gamble was paying off, at least for the moment. Rama appeared to be reluctant to harm the one carrying his precious offspring. As if he would ever see it. Sheba toyed with the idea in her head, wondering how near to the baby she would let him. This foal was her investment, her chance to live on even after she was gone, and it would need to be raised carefully. It would need to understand the way things worked, and it would need to learn that the way things worked didn't matter if you were clever enough about it. The baby needed to learn that life was a game, and that everything must be sapped out of it while his piece was still on the board. And it would need to learn, she decided cattily, that if it ever encountered a buckskin mare that it must be sure to kill her. If Rama was around, who knew what kind of influence he'd have on his offspring? But then again, she reasoned, Rama could loan the foal a few things himself. That spirit, perhaps that spirit could somehow rub off on the young one. Such power he'd have...
Her mind snapped back to the present, interested in this conflict between Rama and the mare. She didn't care much for a fight herself; she wasn't stupid. The buckskin mare's longing to destroy both her and the foal was written all over her face. With Rama between them for the moment though, she decided that that was enough for her to stay. With the growing foal, it wouldn't be as easy to slip off as it once had been, but it was by no means impossible. "Careful, darling, I wouldn't anger him if I were you." Sheba spoke plainly, refusing to answer her in the Ancient tongue. That was reserved for Rama. She was not referring to the stag, but to the spirit, whose unpredictability she was beginning to learn. Did the mare know what she was up against? "But now, bold stranger, be so kind as to offer me a name. You seem to have one for me, and there must be one for me to address you by. Unless, of course, you prefer that I decide on my own name for you, darling?" Her voice was low and venomous, but she made no move towards the other mare. The vixen who believed that she could just come prancing in and take Rama. She would pay. She'd thought Sheba'd made a mistake, letting Rama breed her? Well, she would have to let this stranger see what the word 'mistake' really meant.
--behind the post-- 669 words Burning Up eh, didn't quite know where to go. Hopefully Rama'll give Sona more to work with than Sheba, because the dialogue wasn't all that great :P
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Black Thorns
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A writer starts a book. A reader finishes it.
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Post by Black Thorns on Aug 8, 2011 23:37:05 GMT -5
Sona couldn't help but be pleasured at the brief show of anger in Rama- her Rama-'s face and words. Oh, yes, she knew he wanted her dead- all the better. She'd get him so very, very angry with her... but then, then she would make him less and less angry. Then she could twist him, mold him into her own little immortal killing machine. Not entirely immortal- no, he could very well die if he was injured badly (Or would that be well?) enough.She could use a thing to mold to her will, something powerful under her control... Do you suppose, Sonalane thought to herself, That I should gain his power when he is under mine? Her own little pet, little toy she could make do as she wanted. He would worship the ground she walked on... Not now, though; not now. She would push her power craze aside for now; that, sadly, would have to be a gradual process. She had begun it before he lost his memory... She did nothing but chuckle at the venom-filled words. "Learn my place, should I?" Sonalane asked, her tone rather sarcastic and biting. "No, thank you- my place is rather well-known." Surely she came across as arrogant and rude- but at the moment Sonalane cared not one tiny bit. Her Ramaskith was surfacing- she didn't care for the soft, gentle, sweet Rama that surfaced occasionally. No. That was not her Rama... She'd forced it back, further and urther back until it wasn't seen with her. SHe forced him to be mean... Though surely, she though with a touch of disgust, He was very kind to her foals... Their foals. The mare blantantly refused to speak to Sona in her better language, in her favoured speech. "careful, darling, I wouldn't anger him if I were you," the mare- bitch-whore, Sona thought angrily, was a much better title- spoke, the dterm of endearment used as a curse almost. Surely if Rama wasn't between the two... Why, that mare would be bloodied extensively already... Before Sona could reply to the mare, the little bitch-whore began to speak again. "Now, bold stranger, be so kind as to offer me a name. You seem to have one for me, and there must be one for me to address you by. Unless, of course, you prefer tat I decide on my own name for you, Darling?" Each word was dripping with anger, but Sona refused to let herself be intimidated by it. "Oh, yes, I am quite aware that he wants to kill me right now," she said, her voice cheery- thoughboviously lain with fury and hatred, "THough I care not. He can hurt me- kill me if he wants- but not before you lie broken on the ground. How should it be done, my cher?" she asked, returning bitting endearment with biting endearment, "Quickly, mercciful? Or slow? SHould I break those swift legs of yours first? Let you try to run with those... Then when you fall, unable to move, should I rip that thing out of you while you are still alive and conscious? Lay it before you so you can see its barely developed body as you slowly bleed to death? SImply smash in your skull? Maybe just a few cuts, deepening and widening as it goes on, long, dark, red rivers stainign your pretty coat? Oh, the choices!" SOna exclaimed, throwing back her head as she laughed shortly. "Yet... I do not know your name, my little cher! Nor do you mine, as you have said,,, Perhaps it is best if I should let you know who I am before I kill you. It only can make the game more interesting!" SOnalane paused, debating on letting the mare know her true name- or simply giving her a false alibi., Her gaze flicked to the stallion before her. Yes, it was best she told the mare the truth. "My title is Sonalane- though should you ever feel the need to, feel free"- those words were strangely venomous- "to call me Sona," "Of course, though I do find my names rather fitting for a mare such as you, it does seem that we should know eachother's given name..." She turned her glance from the mare to the handsome one between the two. Oh, she was all to tempted to touch- just barely- that tense body, see how he would react. Let it go? Or would he snap like a twig? Her skin twiched, her body aching to brush up against his. Oh, unlike the pregnant mare, Sona could offer him so much more... AN army, a war, twisted relationships and tortured horses to suffer under their wrath... What did this mare offer? Nothing but the ability to carry on his bloodline, and it wasn't as if Sona couldn't do that herself. She would do it, yes, but only when she felt like a foal. Her lack of maternal instancts made this rather difficult to imagine- but perhaps the molded toy that Rama would be could manage to convince her to let himself breed her. Oh, yes, if this mare thought that having a foal could somehow make her invincible to anyone wanting to hurt her- well, she would be up for a rude awakening. Suddenly, her head reached out, approaching th scarred shoulders of her love. Just barely closer, until she suddenly reached out. SHe touched him for just a moment, before pulling back for a reaction. Her warrior side urged her on- provoke them! Make them angry! Fight, kill, torture! Make them beg for mercy, and show them none! Yes, Sona would show no mercy...
--behind the post-- 964 words Sona wants to FIGHT. rawr. xD
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Post by aPPY on Aug 9, 2011 0:12:15 GMT -5
ramaskith Rama snorted as the mare laughed, somehow amused by his words. Learn my place, should I?" she replied, her tone mocking, "No, thank you- my place is rather well-known." He shook his head, stepping forward a step, "No, I don't believe it is," he spat, unhappy with the way she was acting. "I think it is rather unknown." The spirit bounced in his mind, happy with the impending fight and/or killing of this insubordinate mare. He wanted her gone so that they could focus on the grey one. What were they going to do about her? They couldn't kill the foal so they would have to wait until later, but killing her immediately after birth when she was most weakest wouldn't be wise either; how would the foal survive? It posed a most interesting problem for them. The two mares began to speak again, throwing words at each other. The buckskin was growing angrier with each passing second, threatening to tear the grey apart. He was beginning to grow bored of this petty back and forth, the buckskin introducing herself to the grey. Oh yeah, Sonalane. He had already forgotten. He still hadn't learned the grey's name, but it didn't really matter. He didn't care much for names. The dead didn't deserve them and he wouldn't take the time to learn these simple titles.
Sonalane glanced at him and he met her eyes with an icy glare. There was no lingering darkness in his gaze, just him. His calm, level headed eyes; one blue, one brown. The stare was hardened with impatience and anger, the intensity burrowing into you. "Perhaps I should do the same to you?" he asked, her small speech rolling through his mind. His eyes quickly ran down the length of her legs, imagining them broken and seperated onthe ground. The bones shattered like white flecks of snow in the winter. Ripping her own stomach open, but for a different prize. Tearing out her organs as her screams died out and her heart stopped beating before his eyes. Her intestines hanging from the trees where he had so carefully placed them. And her skull, skillfully detached from her spine and cracked open to reveal the small brain she used to operate her body. Crushing the organ beneath his hoof and into the easily accepting ground. He spoke none of this out load though, not wanting to ruin everything. It wouldn't be half as fun if she knew exactly what was coming for her.
Ramaskith watched as the buckskin twitched, carefully reaching towards him. His ears rotated back, his head lifting into the air and away from her. His feet stayed planted though, he wouldn't move away to that extent. He paused as she brushed his skin, quickly pulling back as if unsure what would happen. As her head moved back, his moved forward as if pulled by a string. His teeth gleamed in the sunlight before the sunk into her skin. He snapped his jaws closed with a meaty thump before pulling back and spitting the flesh out of his mouth. He moved so fast that if you had blinked you would have missed the whole thing. Blood ran from his mouth and dripped onto the ground; the same blood that was now starting to run down the shiny buckskin pelt. He waited, his eyes watching every small movement from the mare and anticipating what she did next.
// 584 words Sona's going to get oneeee.!
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lady shady
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[M0n:75]
has been & will be absent;; please see the away board
Posts: 419
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Post by lady shady on Aug 11, 2011 17:23:38 GMT -5
Sheba Don't judge a thing until you know what's inside it
[/i][/right] The buckskin mare was angry. So very angry at her. And the feeling of causing such deep emotion in another gave Sheba an intoxicating feeling. She was twisting her way into their lives, tearing them. Perhaps the mare did have a claim on Rama. Perhaps. But she would never, ever have her precious stag to herself again. She would make sure if that. And if one day, the spirit left Rama, left only his shell for the mare, she could have him.
The aforementioned was speaking now, monologuing on about how she knew Rama wanted to kill her. Sheba's ears twitched, appearing rather uninterested in the speech. It was easy to see that the paint stag was angry. Did the mare know the limits though? Sheba's thoughts drifted back to the mare again, who was still speaking about the danger she was in "...though I care not. He can hurt me- kill me if he wants- but not before you lie broken on the ground. How should it be done, my cher? Quickly, merciful? Or slow? Should I break those swift legs of yours first? Let you try to run with those... Then when you fall, unable to move, should I rip that thing out of you while you are still alive and conscious? Lay it before you so you can see its barely developed body as you slowly bleed to death? Simply smash in your skull? Maybe just a few cuts, deepening and widening as it goes on, long, dark, red rivers staining your pretty coat? Oh, the choices!" The gray mare blinked. Did she really think that Sheba would fight her? Allow her to get so close? She laughed softly, a tinkling sound in the back of her throat. No, she would not. This mare's games were not to her liking; they were too rough and hardly intricate. Where was the patience? The waiting until nerves, not bones, snapped? The twisting of feelings, not muscles. The manipulation of things more permanent, things that would not heal. And the mare desired the foal? Wanted to kill it, did she? Another thing that Sheba would not let happen.
But! There was one thing she did desire. A fight between these two should prove entertaining. Perhaps to the death? That would be even better. A wicked smile rested on her lips.
The buckskin spoke again, giving Sheba her name, Sonalane. But what did Sheba care for names? She had already decided that this mare should forever be Darling to her. Such a precious little name for a precious little mare. And hers? "Well darling, your names for me will suffice if they anger you, as they should. But if you find that they ever lose their venom, you may cast your hatred upon the name Sheba. I grow weary of this though. You and I both know that I'm not going to attack you right now. It would be a waste of my time. And waste...is something we don't want now, do we darling?"
She stood, twitching her tail slowly, giving that darling creature a cool stare. It was enough for now. "And, darling, one day, perhaps I shall see those skills you boast of if you insist on displaying them. But you will have to find a willing subject. And unfortunately, being willing has never been one of my strong points. I do make use of what strengths I do possess though, as you will find. I am no fool." Swishing her tail, she wheeled suddenly and sped out of the grove. Stopping at the edge, she turned to face the two. "Never far." she whispered, before melting into the trees.
--behind the post-- 625 words lyrics are from Spirit! Yay! xD sorry, stupid post I know, just moving her out for you. She'll be back, probably soon if necessary. I can guarantee it. Basically right now, she's just outside the grove, watching but being quiet, just like in the beginning.
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