{Txep}
Familiar
Putting Char names in my profile name of ones I am doing at the time being
Posts: 448
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Post by {Txep} on Mar 27, 2012 11:16:13 GMT -5
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It yet another blistering hot and humid day in the lands of MUSTANG, and for this poor old bag of bones it was exhausting to even breath in. Laborous to suck in air through old decrepit wrinkles nares, to pushing the the air back out with over used air pumps that needed major replacing. It was a harsh weeze of breathing keeping this rugged buckskin alive, mostly blind with everything having a fuzzy border on it and a blurry black frame skirting the edges. Story Teller was barely surviving in this summer heat, only thing that kept him moving on this blistering day was the urge to find cool shade and water. Having perhaps taken hours to drag his skeleton across the southern lands, finally stiff joints creeked to a halt.
Stopping at the base of amazing strong falls, his crown dropped below his withers attempting to vaccum in large amounts of oxyginated water vapor. His cloudy browns flinched and squinted as he groaned, sweat was dripping into his eyes making them sting. Taking a few wobbly steps to a large bolder, the buckskin began rubbing his eyes and face up and down the surface of rock. Attempting to rub out the sting from them, it felt good to also catch any long unattended itches that covered his old wrinkled skin. Ending with rubbing his forlocks against the rock, making his bangs stick up in all sorts of cadiwompus directions, increasing any knots the wind tangled black strands had. Giving a sigh of relief, harks flopping a distance apart as his personal needs were met in a very simple easy manner.
Clouded specticals squinted, straining through the blur of rushing water to see an opening on the other side of the falling water. A tunnel or cave perhaps? The old man thought with hope he had just found a cool pleasing spot to hide from the summer heat in. Knowing the splashing mist of the falling waters would keep the dark concave mouth cool and enjoyable. Letting out a soft nicker, "Gods be bless us old friend, do you think I will meet her again? Oh you remember don't you.... this was the place I had first met her..." " Glancing to his side speaking as if another was there to reveal in old fragments of memory. But it couldn't have been here, he'd just arrived to MUSTANG for first time in his life. What was this looney old washed up stallion talking about and to who? "... Standing there watching me as I tended my battle wounds in the water.... she walked forth startling me... so kind she was... so beautiful...""
Having hobbled to the edges of the waters while babbling on of nonsense, he'd have to swim to the tunnel opening if he wanted to get there. Ever so slowly did each dagger finally sink into the cold water falls pool, slightly afraid with his age if he could sustain the pounding of falling water as he went through the rushing wall. Taking a deep breath now as kicking his knobby jointed legs, acting as though there were no fear in him to on the opposing thundering falls. Struggle was there as he battled his way against the current, to suddenly surge past it. There was no incline of rock at the bottom of the tunnel as it was submerged in water far enough none could walk. Already laboring for breath and slight shock at how cold the water really was, he powered forth swimming at a turtles pace around a large bend in the darkness. Purely blind, hoping no water monsters were there to snatch him up for a snack, Story Teller was nervous till he seen light at the end.
Pace quickening wanting to get out of the dark, tredding water snorting it from his nose as a few times his visage dipped below the surface. Finally ground came to cracked dull flints, grabbing at footing that became a small incline, pulling him out of the water, he gasped for breath. Giving a burst of energy to fling as many cold droplets from his skeleton, a small moan escaped his greying maw as he stepped forward into a flood of blistering hot sunlight. It actually felt good for the first time that day to be in the sun. Glancing about through the fuzzy vision he was able to desypher there was small pools of water spread out in a large blocked in area with a lot of foliage to be able to graze on. A nicker to himself, he began to slowly plod through the small springs, snorting and veiring away from the ones that made his hooves burn. And moving quickly through ice cold spring pools, finally on the farther end away from the tunnel, he found a very pleasing low heated spring that had a small steam hoovering over the top.
To willingly did his warn out stilts collapse underneath him, splashing his lump of decaying flesh into the spring. It was relaxing much like a massage to his old teatherd muscles and throbbing joints. The water was half way up his stomach covering his legs, it was so soothing on his weathered joints taking away any pains of arthritis that there was. Letting out a very pleased exhale, rolling over on his side extending his limbs away from his body, fully relaxing and letting his to heavy for his neck skull lay on the raised surface around the springs. Curtans fell quickly as the old stallion came fast to sleep, basking in the hot sun as well as bathing in the soothing warm-hot spring fully relaxing for the first time in many years with no worries of being chased off by others.
"Talking" Thinking
Featuring; Story Teller~14yrs~15'3~America/Spanish Mustang~Clouded Brown~Buckskin
Tags;OPEN TO ANYONE OOC; Holy crap this is long, but have much muse for him at the moment.
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Freedom
Familiar
[M:-300]
~Some people call it strange, I call it freedom~
Posts: 482
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Post by Freedom on Mar 27, 2012 20:48:18 GMT -5
.:~ Shackle ~:.
It's the ones who think inside the box that are trapped in the shackles of reality~[/center] The mere sight of the stallion was a pain to lay eyes on. His bony head was lifted high and his neck was so thin you would think it would be transparent by now. His knees were like giant nobs and his canon bones were like thin poles. His ribs stuck out and his backbone reared up at a wild angle. Though his face was as pleasant as anyone's. His old eyes took on the role of a young colt just learning of the world. The mismatch of them was truly convincing. His color was almost impossible to see, for he was completely masked in scars. So many he appeared to be white, though a few darker scars still held their painful past by staying a dark sickening red. As if the skin had turned translucent through the constant beatings in that particular area. So painful was he.
His trod was light and joyful, or at least it should have been. It had an odd thump in it making it somehow, queer. Like it wasn't quite right. Perhaps it was a side-effect of his old age. Maybe even some of those extensive scars had made it deep enough to injure his muscle movement. Though it was always a possibility it was just his insanity.
Dark swirls of flowers danced through his head, it came as natural as the trees surrounding him. Their shapes blurred his vision and he stumbled, realizing he had been traveling a long while and hadn't eaten in days as a result, the skeleton-looking horse bent his contorted head to down to eat at the grasses. The grass danced like green candy in front of him. Teasing his blurry eyes with their dance. The sudden flicker of an orange bubble drew his fading attention again. It blew lazily away from him, of course there was no such bubble, only things like that exist in the eyes of his. He nickered a crazy drunken noise before darting after it.
Soon he felt a warm spring curl its way over his hoof, like a snake. He screeched, pulling his bony leg up from its terrifying winding body, he spotted another. A horse, only this concerned him even further. "You have no legs!" He yelled in terror, taking no notice that the elderly stag was indeed, asleep and very much alive and with legs. He stood there eying the creature as if it were some sort of horrid monster. Surely it was dead? "Did that, warm, wet, snake eat your legs?" He said in quickening fear, he didn't expect the stallion to answer him. Surely he must be dead? How can anyone live without legs?
|| Shackle || Stallion || 13 || Barb x Brumby || Black Dun, but is barely seen because of large amounts of scars covering his skin and color || 15'1hh || One blue one Green-Eyes || Insane ||
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{Txep}
Familiar
Putting Char names in my profile name of ones I am doing at the time being
Posts: 448
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Post by {Txep} on Mar 29, 2012 9:04:55 GMT -5
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It was very possible it had been hours since the rags of buckskin had layed down to rest in the cool spring, he really didn't know. But all he knew he was suddenly jerked back to life by a high screeched squeal right next to him. Recoiling his legs underneith him and coming quick to stand, blurred visiou reiling to find the obnoxious culpret to wake him so rudely. Finally misty browns locked on to a black skeleton, his mind began to freak out, this was his shadowed equine? The one to take his soul away from these lands for good? It darn near looked as rigid and frail as himself let alone of how crude it wake him like this.
Backing away stumbling over the ridge of the spring, nares flared, "Shadowed demon from the underworld I believe you've lost your way. I am not to be taken from this world today by YOU!!" Story Teller squealed his own displeasure at the opposing brute, this was not at all what he'd heard and told about for many years of when one dies. Had he been wrong all this time? Then he glanced down at the spring he had been laying in... his body wasn't there.... his soul should have lifted and his body still laying on the ground. Harks flicked forward then craning his dial back to nip at his own shoulder ensuring he felt it.
The damned old fool was still alive.... then who was this ominous old coot before him that look nearly as frail as himself. Stepping a forth again, still water dripping from his thing chest and gut searching this creature over before him, " A warn gladiator much like myself I see that you are. What is this that you dare stir the sleep of a once great lead stallion." A bit upset by this fools crude interuption Teller was rather annoyed and hadn't heard a word the ebony decayed equine had said.
"Talking" Thinking
Featuring; Story Teller~14yrs~15'3~America/Spanish Mustang~Clouded Brown~Buckskin
Tags; OOC;
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Freedom
Familiar
[M:-300]
~Some people call it strange, I call it freedom~
Posts: 482
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Post by Freedom on Mar 29, 2012 21:41:27 GMT -5
.:~ Shackle ~:.
It's the ones who think inside the box that are trapped in the shackles of reality~[/center] When the crippled dead horse raised itself from the wet snake, Shackle could hardly bare it. It was impossible to bring something back from the dead! However this thing called him the "Shadow demon." Was he? The scars did appear to be rotting on his skin, like a demon perhaps. But his mind wasn't thinking about that now. Instead, orange bubbles filled the air and he could barely see. Though they were simply creations of his head.
He started screaming again, a horrid unnatural screech, backing away and yelling, "Bubbles! They are burning my eyes! Make it stop skeleton horse! Make it stop!" The bubbles created in his head, only cleared when the other spoke. As if everything was dandy. "Y-you..." He began blinking wildly and snorting before continuing "You were dead... And now you live... Hey wait, your a lead stallion?" A painful-looking grin fell over his jaws, showing rotten teeth and a great many that were missing.
"I'm Shackle." He said, interrupting himself in a very normal-sounding baritone. As if nothing happened at all and he had always acted that way. "I have no idea what I am. Maybe a ghost." The idea struck him as reality and he imagined being transparent. The thought made his wicked smile spread like a sickness. Yes, a very very insane sickness. "Could I just call you, 'Skelly?" he added in a rather high-pitched creepy voice.
|| Shackle || Stallion || 13 || Barb x Brumby || Black Dun, but is barely seen because of large amounts of scars covering his skin and color || 15'1hh || One blue one Green-Eyes || Insane ||
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Post by cheezwizzard on Apr 1, 2012 6:32:21 GMT -5
Black and Green. Green and Black. Those were the two colors of the doe's coat and only those. The young lamb frowned at her reflection in the lake beneath the water falls. She lacked exquisite markings and colors. She was bland. Just another pony. Belle grinned at herself and wheeled away from the water before breaking into a hack. It was a strange, unnatural gait for the most equines yet do to breeding, she could do it. Giggling like a drunk, Belle fell to the grassy terrain and began to snuggle up into it. She had no clue where her momma was or the rest of her herd and frankly, she didn't care. It was much to fun to play out here all alone. With a tired yet relieved sigh, she closed her green orbs and fell asleep.
Belle woke, the fuzziness of sleep blurring her vision. Stretching like a feline, Belle made her way to the water's edge and peered behind the falls. To her utter delight that she showed with a squeal of surprise there was an opening. It was dark and cool but not scary. The darkness welcomed her and embraced as if she were an old friend, wrapping around her coat and hiding her all at once. She stepped lightly, with a giggle as the water lapped at her hocks. This was SUPER - DUPER silly. Who hid water in the dark? Splashing through the water she began to sing, her voice echoing in the tunnel. "The itsy bitty spider climbed up the water spout. Down came the rain and washed the spider out. Out came the sun and it dried up all the rain and the itsy bitty spider climbed up the spout again." The song was a familiar lullabye her mother sang to get her to fall asleep. The thought sent a wave of sadness through her and the little doe stopped before any other words could fall from her lips.
Green pools searched her dark, blank surroundings until they landed upon a bright light. With another excited squeal she swam faster until finally emerging in a fairy tale land. It was pretty! A silver stream spread itself through the land as if it were a ribbon and flowers dotted the hillside. Ready to claim her title as princess, Belle skipped off, her ebony coat slowly drying. She came upon a funny sight. Two old stallions talking like crazed hooligans. Hooligans always caused trouble but these two... They just looked confused. Belle giggled and skipped over, deciding they couldn't be all bad if they were old.
Belle grinned happily at the two, waiting for them to both calm down. "You two are so silly! My momma would call you a hoowigan. A hoolwigan. Whatever you know what I mean. I think you're just confused." Belle said excitedly, like a child hyped up on candy. She paused, waiting for a reply.
ooc:: me gusta belle and teller! They're gonna be so fricking adorable!
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