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Post by A P O L L O // on May 13, 2014 17:08:06 GMT -5
.x.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The foliage withered beneath the towering mass of finely coiled muscle, slivers of gold briefly visible in between the thick forest of timbers. Apollo wandered through the vicinity like a waltzing king, his stride long and lazy – an aura of pure confidence surrounding the hellion. Sharp flints sunk in to the infertile soil, leaving U-shaped indentations but he didn’t bother to cover his tracks. What was the need? Apollo had nothing to fear, and I mean nothing. Twins swivelled atop his noble zenith, the movement akin to the smoothness of liquid, absently taking in the silent vicinity. The only sounds were those made by him.
Blood stained nostrils dilated, quickly inhaling the thick air before it was released with a sharp huff. A cloud of carbon polluted the cold atmosphere as the beast came to a halt, the faintly roman profile thrown to the thunderous heavens with a slight degree of violence. Untamed threads were flung through the stillness before lashing against the naturally arched curvature of his nape. Blemished enamels clicked against one another several times out of boredom as Apollo considered what a fxcking wasteland this had become. Surely soon enough he would come along some poor, pathetic fxcker to prey on. A devilish sneer curved the brims of his black liblas at the thought, distorting his otherwise handsome features.
Apollo was a magnificent creature, his appearance as if belonging to a demigod. The blood lines were impure but that suited him perfectly, his anatomy powerful and tall – the draft heritage working in his favour. But don’t make the mistake of thinking him large and clumsy, Apollo was as sure footed and nimble as a mountain goat. He wasn’t thestral king for nothing you know. Lightly feathered appendages, lean and muscular, abruptly pushed the demonic entity to the speed of lightening, his strides lengthening and eating at the ground. The topography was kicked up ferociously, a recklessness about his movements as Apollo became a blur of pure gold. Who would dare get in his way now?
.x.
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Post by Phallan x; on May 15, 2014 17:50:37 GMT -5
Why does an angel fall? Perhaps they where misguided in a life of perfection, perhaps one was fair to most but cunning to some, then again possibly one could have became lost and their soul no longer wished to make good of the bad. There you have it, that is Phallan. Chocolate laced tress seemed to whirl about the branches that swayed to and fro over her cap. The breeze was picking up now and, she was attempting leap of faith. It was impossible for her to possess this burden. Why would they have leashed her to a giant pair of bird wings? Did they have no conscious? An equid creature perching a top a cliff staring down into the abyss sporting a pair of fawn wings gaping open. Optics drew in the darkness that lay beneath her frame, she would dive to her death if this was even possible now. Scraping along the infinity of her boundary, hooven scared the surface of the stone with anger and frustration. "How dare they after all I have done for them to sentence me to this life!" Body propelled forth from the ledge, speed increased rapidly as she fell down, down, down plummeting. Her frame bounced from bolder to bolder, sharp structure to trees, nothing was felt. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she smacked the final slab of slate. Massive crevices began to unfold below her skeleton as she lay there motionless. Mangled state of broken bones protruding through soft hide laying in a pool of her own life source. As if the heavens parted and prepared a miracle crunching began to bide forth. Bones sucked back into her pelt, blood seemed to be sucked back up into her as if it never splattered the ground until every last drop was gone. Not even a stain was left as the mangled lass was now as she had been atop the cliff. What was this? Torture... Letting herself peer around her she almost posed as a deer in headlights from the bewilderment that had just crashed upon her. She was immortal, immune to the death she longed for. Rage seemed to fuel the fire inside as she simply began to plod off into the forest. Avian chirped singing their lovely songs but she didn't want to listen to this. Each her vision cast upon was chased down by a brooding mare. If she was to be stuck in this horrid form she would have to make the best of everything around her. Audits pinned flat along her trim while nostrils sucked the scent of the world around her. It seemed vastly empty for once. The lost feeling that once sewed it's seed inside of her was returning. Muscles twitched and ached from the weight she carried on her spine. Skull shifted backward to peer at the outrageous items. Pulling them upward she began to become curious as to how they worked. What where their use for her and how did they function. Whirling brain pulsed with oxygen feeding cells while she planned an uncertain training lesson for herself. She would learn to control these things and bond to them so that she may become something unworldly and prove that a mistake had been uttered. Organ of life thumped inside her cavity. Constant flutter was an aggravation however, she was intent on becoming something different. Flint struck the ground, swiftly ripping through the open meadow. Span seemed to spread outward rapidly gathering a tunnel of wind beneath themselves. Thump, thump, thump, hooves struck the hardened topsoil with fierce confidence. Her bodess propelled forward and lifted from the ground ever so lightly. How was she to control this unjust proportion of her frame with ease? Something uttered "stop" inside her mind, ignoring this she continued to race forth in attempts to uplift her torso from Earth. Audits glided atop her crani rapidly at the sound of something crashing toward her. The pace never seemed to ease until a seemingly golden frame larger than her own with a putrid stench of arrogant male streaked in her vision. Great just what she needed...
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Post by A P O L L O // on May 15, 2014 19:37:22 GMT -5
.x.
It was true that some who wandered this godforsaken land were often questioning their purpose. Unsure of where they belonged or who they were – these souls were restless. As you can guess, Apollo was not one of these. You don’t need to find a purpose if you can create one and his was to cause havoc and despair, something he did frighteningly well. He was a demon, in every sense and I suppose that’s why it is ever ironic that Apollo in Greek mythology was the God of light, sun, truth and prophecy. But there was none of that here. Not in the blood thirsty beast that stalked this barren, withering adobe. Oh, so the girl is immortal? Well, at least you’ll have one thing in common with the king because I doubt any other similarities will present themselves. Not when you’re faced with greatness. Apollo had been on this earth for a period of time that was beyond recollection; he had crossed the path of many who were unfortunate enough to know his name. Enslaving, raping and killing – I've lost count of how many have perished before him, or should I say, beneath him.
Salmon tinted nasals quivered as the vagabond inhaled the stale oxygen, the long extensions stretching further out with each stride so that the magnificent anatomy almost seemed like it was floating. Or, perhaps flying? Ha. Each time his powerful mass made contact with hell’s roof, the palomino hide shuddered with the impact, the muscles rippling underneath in response to his reckless movements. Words aren’t enough to describe the deity that Apollo is. His demeanour belonged to Satan himself but the exterior? They whispered that only God could create something so intoxicatingly beautiful. It was a dangerous cocktail – all that splendour and all that malice. The behemoth didn’t care where he stepped or what was crushed beneath his weight as his aimless flight continued. Thick, untended whip of creamy fibres streamed out behind rotating haunches and that is when the feminine aroma flooded his senses, all at once enticing him and choking him. How could Apollo not be lured by a pretty lady? They were only good for one thing, and that one thing he enjoyed immensely.
The towering golden physique crashed against the chocolate witch, the two colours smashing against one another and almost becoming one. Psh, you wish. To be honest, Apollo could have tried to stop or change direction so that the collision wasn’t as forceful but why on earth would he do that? The greater degree of damage would be caused to the harlot – he was bigger and essentially, stronger. Acoustics fell abruptly to his chiselled attic, burying themselves beneath the abundant threads of cremello that almost hid the noble skull. Apollo pushed the virgo away with his brawny shoulder, untangling his lightly feathered pillars from her own as he rounded her petite frame. A snarl erupted from the bastard’s throat in disdain, thick serpentine arching so that his cranium could snake towards the pera, hazel cameras taking in the unfamiliar bitch. Apollo was one of few words; he didn’t often feel the need to waste his breath when his actions spoke volumes.
His stare was cold, calculating and unnerving as it slithered over her figurine, taking in the unusual winglets. It wasn’t that Apollo hadn’t seen one of these specimens before, it was just that his curiosity was always peaked when he came across one of these mangled hybrids. They were such awkward creatures, so unsure of how to go about their daily existence with the added deformity. It was wasted potential really. Imagine the damage that Apollo could do if he too possessed a pair but he didn’t need them. He alone was enough. Hushed vocals were expelled from his parted liblas, the tone quiet but the intensity undeniable. “Are you blind?” It was a question that was asked not out of interest or with the care for an answer. They were thoughtless words uttered to mar the fact that he was momentarily unsure of what he wanted more – to hurt her for disturbing him or to fuck her for being the gender that she was.
Apollo didn’t care that the nymph had been attempting to practice flight; she could save those stupid lessons for when she wasn’t in the presence of a king and thestral king at that. Now she was his. Her time was his time. A cruel, emotionless cackle rolled from his forked ribbon at the thought, liquid smooth motions pushing his striking form forward so that he could orbit her once more. This was trademark Apollo. All the possessiveness, all the greed to claim anything that breathed. Well, not just anything. If you weren’t pretty, you were killed. If you were pretty, you were raped. At least you had your life though huh? Right now he was just lustful, it had been too long since he’d felt flesh beneath his own. A lazy, confident stride carried him towards her rear, Apollo’s stare focusing on the hawk wings and his crown tilted ever so slightly as a feigned expression of innocence clouded his handsome veneer. He was standing parallel to her, only marginally however, the heat from his impressive cage probably radiating against her skin. The velvet soft muzzle extended, whiskers brushing against the feathers of her right wing. At least he wasn’t ripping them out, it’s something, no?
.x.
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Post by Phallan x; on May 15, 2014 20:28:14 GMT -5
Her form continued to bolt forth. Nothing had even crossed her mind until that of the brute came into her nasal cavity. His scent was directly wonderful yet devilish at the same time. Her mind muttered around it's own self still yet as they became ever so close. Surely he was going to move wasn't he? Did he expect her to move out of his path? No, this was not going to happen. He was no better than she was here on this rotten place. Revolutions never seemed to cease. Her form was not going to halt it's yearning to fly just for this mutt. He could simply move out of her way and let her go onward. No? He had decided to bash into her, using his shoulder to quarry her balance. Well, sir she was no pushover.
He had unscrambled the mess he had made quickly rising to his full potential. As he examined her form crumpled there upon the lome she also began to do a full intake of him. His structure was that of a large breed equine. Draft crossed with something other perhaps...His coloration was heavenly yet his demeanor was that of a harsh and cruel mongrel. His hooven where large and sounded much like thunder when they struck the Earth. His tress was boldly stated in the almost opaque cream coloration that hid his rugged craning neck. He was strong, his simple bump had landed her upon the soil. Gathering herself to stand as the rogue circled her form. Optics rolled in their socket listening to the boasting vocals come from his larynx. "No, but obviously you seem to be lacking a brain." Oh she was a daring little vixen wasn't she?
His form seemed continue to move around her. Irritation at his dominance seemed to begin to boil her blood. What was wrong with her? Never had she felt anger before now. Veins began to expand allowing more liquid magma to flow through themselves. Audits pinned to her skull as tassel swished to and fro in aggravation of his actions. Steel stamped the Earth's surface impatiently as he parked his body parallel to her own. The touch was an unwelcome one sending a shrill sound through the air. A banshee would be grateful to own the vocal pattern the lass possessed. Neck coiled into an arch and daggers nipped toward him in a violent fashion. No, she was no pushover, she would hold her own before any other equine even if she had her own problems swimming in her brain.
Now, he could either take heed with her warning and scutter off into the forest somewhere or he could remain there trying to "tame" her. Bastard, he was insane if he thought she would ever be overtaken. There was a reason her ovaries had never been used, she was not mother material. Maternal instinct seemed to come with most mares, however, she was never one to think twice about breeding. A fresh pallet that had never been painted upon. Oh my that had to be tempting to the male but, she had held herself through these years to keep herself intact and un-bred. All those years spent helping others most infact where mares with foals. It seemed so miserable to have to care for another creature making your body it's home then stressing yourself to bring it into the world. Then the protection they required and the constant food source until they finally left your side. Yuck, it made her stomach quiver at the sheer thought of any of it.
Attention seemed to snap back to the current situation. She was such a thoughtful lady, no not polite a thinker. She had spent many days weaving to and fro beneath an oaken shroud in thought. It was to eventually give her an untimely death as she snapped out of this world in thought and never had a moment of awareness about her when it happened. Oculars swiveled atop her crown listening to the overly proud stud moving, breathing, his organ pumping inside of his chest.
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Post by A P O L L O // on May 16, 2014 7:56:23 GMT -5
.x.
Motherhood? Who ever mentioned motherhood? Don’t be so foolish. Apollo had not once allowed the deed itself to lead to the birth of a youngling. He was more prone to kill the babe while it still grew in the womb; all it took was a carefully placed kick. The hessian was a devilish creature, clearly lacking morals however when it came to the subject of kinship, there was no way that he would let his blood lines run wild and unchecked. When he decided that it was time for an heir, Apollo would choose the matriarch carefully. That empress would need to embody all the qualities he hoped to find in the child – it was a lot to ask for, no doubt. Beauty, brains, patience, willpower and on top of all that, the strength to deal with him. He had only come across one who came close to such calibre. A duo stained sovereign who was as fierce as she had been attractive. But this was a face from the past and Apollo wasn’t the type to be sentimental. Obviously. It is I who remembers Isolde; he probably doesn’t even know her name. Anyway, don’t flatter yourself by thinking he would dare let you carry his seed. The act is one of pleasure and dominance, not for the purpose of breeding. At least as far as he is concerned.
Once again, you are mistaken. Apollo is better than you. Perhaps she was unaware of who he was and what he embodied but that was a juvenile mistake to make and she would be taught well. Sensitive lobes toppled forward briefly to pick up her pathetic words - such a weak attempt to rile him up. A demonic sneer curved the brims of his black lips in mild amusement and that would suffice as a response. It was the wings that were saving her, I’ll tell you that much. Don’t ask me why. Hazel crystals watched the agitated motions made by the banshee and it gave him a twisted sense of pleasure to know that he was making her uncomfortable. As she stamped and fussed, the snake like tones once more polluted the still atmosphere. “Is that how you behave in the presence of royalty?”
Harks fell to their graves like dead soldiers as her abrupt scream pierced the air, his expression distorting in disgust – why were these bitches always so loud? Blood boiled at her daring, at the fact that she would attempt to lunge and even go to the extent of warning him. Noble zenith was thrown violently towards the thunderous heavens above, adding to his towering height as a sharp, blood chilling hiss escaped from his clenched jowls. Kissers peeled back to reveal crimson stained dentals as he manoeuvred closer rather than away from the witch. I bet that surprises you. Apollo side stepped around the crumpled wing and came to her shoulder now, the soft pelt of his chest making contact against her own chocolate skin. The velvet maw rested atop the female’s slender nape for a few lingering seconds, soft huffs of warm carbon expelled against the area. The golden beast didn’t care about scarring her; it wasn’t as if she was a masterpiece that would be destroyed by a few cuts. She was no Isolde. His motions so far had been controlled and rather docile but now he struck venomously and suddenly, the pearls bared and reaching for her withers so that he could take a vice like grip of the femora. The soft flesh winched between his bite, the hold strong enough to withdraw a trickle of maroon liquid. As it splashed on his tongue, the look in those emotionless cameras changed to manic.
He was insane if he thought she would ever be overtaken huh? Well, wake up and smell the coffee sweetheart. She has been overtaken. The grip was released, the damage done, the claim made. Forked ribbon unfurled from his jaws, lustfully licking at the remaining blood, the coarseness of his tongue forced against the fur. You would think that Apollo would have the decency to step away and let the girl understand what had just taken place, or even be wary of a stray kick in retaliation. But he didn’t expect that. Not from something he owned. Yes, that’s right. Owned. This didn’t mean that the winged pera would be his queen – hell no. It just meant that she was his. And forever more, those scars on her withers would give away the fact that no other male was to touch her. Although with this one, I don’t think Apollo would mind so much if someone else played with his toy. She wasn’t something he wanted to keep all for himself. Oh, apart from her virginity - that would certainly be his, have no doubts about that. What a lucky lady.
.x.
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Post by Phallan x; on May 16, 2014 10:53:20 GMT -5
What a silly troll this bloke was turning out to be. He had no idea of what she once was capable of. Once upon a time the lass was able to weave light into anything, making it brightly seen and hope restored to those who doubted. Once upon a time she was able to take a tarnished soul and breathe new life into it. Once upon a time she was the one who mulled in white magic, a withering plant being brought back to full blooming state from a single tear dripping off her facade. Yes, at one time she was a magical bringer of life to everything. What had happened to her? Over the years the giving everything she had to others less fortunate and lost on their way had driven her almost insane. No matter where she went she always had to give a piece of herself over to another until there was nothing left but an empty hull of her former self. Once she had been so majestic and beautiful only to be rejected after her life source ran dry. How unfair it was to her to have served so graciously the lords of the light only to be sentenced to an eternity of trying to find her true calling. So, she had abandoned her light and became nothing more than a lost soul at the end but, why didn't her grandeur count from previous times?
None of this seemed to matter anymore. Her coat was dull and lacking shine, she had yet to embrace something that was fueling her inside. If she could unearth this feeling and empower herself with it she would once again hold that beautiful coat and flowing mane. Lustrous angel she used to be, now just look at her. Wing span tucked into her cage quickly, simply laying along her form hiding her from the world. Audits flicked around her dome rapidly listening to each puff coming from the set of lungs the bellowing male possessed. His baritone vox released the sound line that streamed through her ocular formations, royalty? Giggle filled the air from her own larynx as she focused on him. "Royal? All I see is a makeshift king of nothingness. A male so full of himself its astonishing that your hazel orbs have not popped right out of your idiotic skull. It is clear you are a brainless, pointless obstacle to this world."
With the blistering speed in which she replied and the feeling of guilt being washed away leaving nothing behind she seemed to feel more herself. Perhaps she was beginning to come into her own with this encounter. Her form shifted lightly, impatient at his demeanor. A king? pft! Even hell itself would reject him leaving him on some god forsaken slab of granite to be picked away by winged pests. Her thoughts where interrupted quickly as he moved toward her form. Audits pinned along her skull rapidly as his chest brushed her shoulder. The heated breath that came from nostrils stained with rouge seemed to make her drawl toward it more so. Not for the sake of him being who he was, or that she was in any way attracted to him because, let's face it...she wasn't. It was the sensation that was sent down her spine. A tingle brushing each vertebra as the heat etched a path through her form. She was beginning to understand more of what she was longing when his jowls clamped upon her withers. Sheer adrenaline began to course through her veins, pressing her life organ into overdrive. The rapid pounding send crimson flooding her brain, sensory nerves where in full awaken state. The pain was nothing she had not felt before, it was the fact this bastard had touched her in any form or fashion. His release was well timed as she put her span to good use flipping the near wing outward into his chest, her neck seemed to slither around toward his chest. Quickly re-timing herself and aiming higher she latched upon his jowl. The retaliation was not held long, no he was much larger and more stout than herself however, she was not going to be treated like a piece of trash he owned.
The wound quickly began to suck the sticky liquid back into it's depths. The almost self stitching of her body began to repair quickly. Nothing was left afterwards but an almost sheer white path where his blood stained daggers where placed. Visual sneer erupted from her, how was she ever going to regain her once beautiful self with him trying to mark her body up. If he thought for one moment she was now his to toy with he was dead wrong.
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Post by A P O L L O // on May 16, 2014 12:32:27 GMT -5
.x.
What she had been capable of once would never compare to what he was capable of now. I suppose she had been an angel of some sort, but he is a demon. Does that register within your head? You can’t even begin to comprehend the magnitude of this creature. Apollo had been cast back to earth because the pathetic darklings couldn’t win the war alone and thus Satan sent down his strongest, most feared demon. But what would you understand of that? You with no allegiance and nowhere to belong. Frail and abandoned spirit – even the Gods didn’t want you. On this miserable terrain, you are at the mercy of those whose powers are far beyond your understanding. And one of those beasts is this ‘silly troll’ so watch your words darling.
As the hawk like wing lashed against the broad golden chest, Apollo snickered – the sound cruel and emotionless, as if coming from the depths of hell itself. The amusement didn’t last long, the situation turning sour within a matter of moments. All of his lust and ‘play’ vanished as the harlot’s ivories made contact with his throat latch. The motion was brief and the damage non-existent but she had made contact and that’s all it took to drive him insane. Who the fuck was she to reach for his jugular? To even dare touch him without permission? Sensitive acoustics flattened themselves completely beneath the thick abundance of creamy tendrils as his stare hardened, the unnervingly beautiful lenses glittering with malice and contempt. A deafening cry erupt from the vagabond, sending the feathered winglets soaring to the sky as his faintly roman profile was swung away from the banshee. Apollo’s movements were effortless but calculated, his sturdy extensions lifting the giant mass in to the atmosphere as sharp flints kicked out at the nothingness before aiming for her delicate spinal region.
In the midst of all this madness, sharp eyesight had allowed the hellion to register within his mind that scars made by him would turn the maiden ghostly. She seemed to have the gift of healing but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be blemished. Apollo had also heard her grating voice and now he responded, his tones spat at the bitch in clear resentment. “This nothingness you’re standing on is my kingdom and the royal you just tried to attack is me.” The golden silhouette had towered over the petite vixen but as he landed with a dull thud on the topography, his posture shifted, bared enamels now reaching for her right wing – at the point where it was closest to her slender barrel. Brainless and pointless, you say? It’s better than fucking lifeless. Apollo aimed to shake the paramour from her foreign extension, knowing full well that the pain would be enough to reprimand the mare for her stupidity.
A heartless cackle stung the gathering silence as the actions were followed through, the giant physique now rounding the feminine form, ensuring that his dappled hide was pushed against hers. Apollo’s masculine and pungent scent lingering on the the little girl as he came to her front, positioning himself so that his entire body was before her. The beautiful skull was brought to line up against the pretty, petite one, his line of vision matching hers as Apollo pressed his white blazed face against hers. “You might be immortal, but understand that I can kill you and send you back to a purgatory far worse than this one.” A sneer creased the velvet soft muzzle, his thick crest arching as Apollo stood squarely before the witch.
.x.
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Post by Phallan x; on May 16, 2014 13:46:36 GMT -5
Demon, troll, idiot it was all the same to her. This creature of hell seemed to think he ruled whatever he wished. Well, she would quickly remind him that not everything he saw could become his on a whim. Nothing he has said to her had legitimately affected her in any way, he was simply hungry with power. He had her all wrong, she was no frail spirit, she was quiet full of salt and vinegar actually. He may have had powers beyond her own but, she had not yet discovered herself again. She was a new creature and with that a saucy one.
Apparently she had struck a cord inside the devil, oh poor baby was angry at her for what she had done. Silly boy. Audits seemed to cram further down a top her skull as if they could move any lower. Snout held high and neck in a craning arch. His rear towered her form easily, she was not one bit unsettled by him. A courageous little hark she was as the steel aimed for her spine. Span seemed to flutter upward to dull the blow and allow it to strike her wings. They where coming in use for something now. His lyrics spat outward at her, did she dare disrupt the "king"? Oh why not, it was nothing but a few little words being hissed from her lips at the golden beast. "Your nothingness is as you are. Lifeless baron scape for a spineless creature who thinks he can own anything he pleases."
The burning inside of her body seemed to etch through her nostrils. The humid and tainted air rapidly pulling out of her lungs into the atmosphere. As he reach for her wing with the stained denticals, she eyed him in an abrupt manner. "Ah ah ahhh your kinglyness." Her form slid sideways ever so lightly to avoid his strike. "You must think I am some sluggish fem for you to overpower, I'm here to tell you now you are mistaken." Her flint struck the topsoil over and over again as she moved in unison to stand comfortably once more. As he rounded about pressing into her own physic she slowly swiveled her audits to follow suit. He was a confident and cocky one, his facade planting along her own. Visuals seemed to glare outward at him at the brute as he spoke again.
"Send me on my way then hell driven bastard, they will simply reject me again and again until I discover what I am here for" Her skull released it's arch, her body relaxed from any tension it had held inside of it due to him. "As you can see oh noble king of nothing, I am not afraid of you or death in the least." With this her bodess simply pressed down his barrel, along his rump and with a flick of her tress' she began to waltz away from him. Would he follow? Would he be enraged at her actions or simply just let her go? She didn't care in any way it had actually been rather fun to interact with him even if it was a hostile meeting.
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Post by A P O L L O // on May 17, 2014 7:20:09 GMT -5
.x.
Perhaps it took more than a whim to claim every spirit that littered this wasted land but be so sure that he had the endurance to break down even the most guarded soul. There were many ways that Apollo could do this and over time, there hadn’t been a single occurrence of an escape. He always got what he wanted and this time would be no different. I’ll have to let your ‘hungry with power’ comment slide because it’s completely true – you’ve hit the nail on its head. Apollo was a blood thirsty beast that got drunk on power and everything that came with it – the title, the fame and the female following. Unlike the darks, the thestral had no desire to gather an army. His cunning was often more than enough to deal with an uprising. You could say that he was blessed. What didn’t Apollo have? He was magnificent, dominant in every sense, from his aura to his appearance.
It was the naivety and foolishness of the babe that allowed her to not feel even a sliver of unrest in his presence. Hazel portals rolled mockingly within their sockets at her words, on numerous occasions he had heard similar tones, there was nothing original here. Boredom inched ever closer to the hellion’s brain pan as the past moment’s adrenaline settled within the thousands of tunnels encased by the palomino sheet of skin. Delicate acoustics flicked lazily in a feeble attempt to pick up her vocals, although an expression of disinterest had settled upon the handsome veneer. A seemingly sarcastic chortle drawled from the parted liblas before his hushed, silky voice ventured forth. “You’re lack of fear is due to your lack of understanding of who I am but I’m sure we can fix that...” Another cackle, more heartless and cruel.
As her tantalizing anatomy pressed along his impressive form and began to slip away, the thick curvature of his nape craned to follow the movements, noble skull tilting marginally on its axis. Untended plumage lashed against the muscular haunches, ridding the blood suckers from his dappled hide as the titan watched the winged skeleton leave. Apollo was in the right mind to let her go, a sense of satisfaction calming his desire to trample the bitch because of that small tuft of white hair that marked her withers. No matter how far this wench wandered, he would always be right beside her. She couldn’t escape him. A devilish sneer pulled back the obsidian velvets, revealing the briefest glint of bloody dentals. Apollo had also marked his property and ensured that his pungent scent had been pressed all over the harlot – he hadn’t been making contact out of mere desire.
The seconds became minutes and as the silence fell thickly over the towering masculine, a sharp huff of carbon was pushed through dilated paper thins. What the fuck was he going to do without that toy? Apollo had thought he was done playing but maybe not. Heavy physique pivoted slowly, lazily, arrogance and indifference oozing from his movements but that was before he sprung in to action. Lean, long appendages stretched out, powerful quarters giving the king a push so that he could leap through the atmosphere and catch up with the paramour in a few bounds. Hoofs hit the earth’s face with a decided vengeance as he came alongside the petite girl, the white face pushed tauntingly against her slender nape and burying itself within her limp mane. The feminine perfume flooded his lungs as the sturdy left pillar was put across her path, almost trapping the empress. Soft, teasing vocals cooed against her flesh once his pearls had scraped the chocolate pelt in warning. “Tell me more about how I am spineless and how you can’t be overtaken.” Game number one.
.x.
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Post by Phallan x; on May 17, 2014 11:31:31 GMT -5
It was evident that the brood was over zealous with power, it seemed to fit his spirit well though. She has passed by many a terra with a power hungry vagabond thinking they ruled the world. He was a bit different of course, he was actually a hessian sent from hell to do, well, whatever it was he did here. It wasn't a matter to her conscious as skull bobbed lightly to his actual agreeing to her comment. He didn't seem all that bad to her yet, she knew he had been patient with her so far. The mark that shown brightly atop her withers was proof that he was a vicious piece of meat teaming with life. It seemed as if she would only be tainted by those that where hell-bound. Perhaps the fallen angel was meant to serve hell now instead of redeem her angelic state from previous times. She was still so unsure of what she was sent back here for, it would all fall into place as time rolled onward.
His laugh seemed as if it was corded with a blood thirsty hinge in the air. The lyrical spat from his lips of her not knowing what he was capable of was actually very much truth. She had only smashed into this fellow for a few moments time now, however, she really didn't seem to mind what he was or was not capable of doing. Her brain had calculated quickly that she needed to heed this male for the simple fact he was able to scar her pelt. Nothing yet had managed to even phase her form, obviously the devil had something that put her in danger. She would have to be cautious of his blows if he sought out another and even more concerned about her life staying intact.
Her flint struck the hardened scape in a mathematical dance taking her slowly from him. It was almost a relief to be away from the brute as the clouded thoughts cleared. Her form was completely relaxed as she ventured onward away from him. Nostrils sucked the air inward toward her lung set. The smell of the vulture still swam about her olfactory zone. Silly boy. she seemed to repeat inside her skull relinquishing any further action with him.
Minutes had passed. She had came upon a new place in time and had forgotten about the mass left behind her trail. Audits pricked upward listening, catching each sound that waved through the air. Mocking aviary seemed to swarm the forest nearby calling outward in their shrill vocals. Skull shook rapidly, sending her tendrils of chocolate flying every direction. Snort rocked through her nasal cavity expelling the irritation that flooded her form from the sweet little improvisations that she wished where dead. The sounding thunder seemed to come from no where. The skies where clear yet, oh no...What could he possibly want this time around? Her hooven continued at an ample pace through the meadow as he quickly seemed to catch her. Auds pinned along her skull as his skull touched her nape. It was unwelcome that he touched her in any manner and yet he obviously cared nothing for what she thought. This put the next thought into her brain, why on Earth would he even wish to know what she thought about anything? Her pace had halted as his limb brushed before her figure. His daggers peeling along her skin for what...a warning to her? She didn't care for his actions to warn her. Vox wistfully began to rumble "Just couldn't bare to stay away from me?" Smirk rolled over her mug as plume swayed to and fro rapidly. Audits had pulled back upward catching his vocals humming through the surroundings. "Now, tell me why someone such as yourself would wish to know anything that I think?" Bodess moved to the side lightly as she circled around him, mug nudged his flank quickly before she continued round to face him. "You can only capture something that's free, something that isn't free cannot be captured." It was true she wasn't free she was chained to this place for however long it took, even eternity.
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Post by A P O L L O // on May 18, 2014 18:33:40 GMT -5
.x.
You’re right – Apollo hasn’t seemed all bad so far. But would you even like to see the dark side? I think not. There’s none of this mockery and taunting on the other side. You could say, albeit at a bit of a stretch, that the hellion was playing with her. This was as playful as you could get him to be, so enjoy it while it lasts because last, it will not. Maybe you could join him though. What fun is it to be an angel and serve others? There is nothing to be gained from that and we both know it. It’s never appreciated and you are forgotten as soon as you are no longer needed. But being on the side of Satan? Now that is where your name would be burnt in to eternity. The fear of others would ensure that recognition is something you never had to search for. Just know one thing, even if you do switch allegiances, you’ll never get in to Apollo’s good books. He had come across many a damsel claiming to be a thestral and none had delivered as one would hope. Being the demon of all demons, maybe that is why he was never satisfied.
Ah, so the lady had come to realise that her life was feeble when in the presence of the king? That would please him greatly. A single twin flicked at her feminine tones and a snigger rumbled through the hybrid anatomy of the virile. Hazel portals watched the sovereign’s revolution, a well-built hind lashing out as her velvet soft muzzle made contact with his skin but she had already moved. “Why do people go to the circus? Obviously they learn nothing while being there but its entertainment of some sort, is it not? You could say that’s why I want you to voice what you think. Put on a show for me.” The snake like vocals were scornful with an undertone of pure commandment. Apollo wasn’t asking her to do as he said, he was ordering her. Disobey at your own peril, my darling.
A sparkle of something sinister twinkled in the brute’s lenses as he pulled away from the maiden briefly. Titaniums crushed the stalks of jade underneath the impressive mass, thick pendulum swinging behind the powerful haunches, almost brushing tauntingly against the donna’s chest as Apollo sauntered beside her anatomy. The cruel stare slithered over her left winglet as he came towards it, his noble zenith pushed forth by the outstretching muscle of his nape. Charcoal kissers curled away to reveal the blemished dentals which now reached for the very tips of her wing, the ends of the very last feathers. Apollo knew exactly what he was doing. He knew that her hide turned white at his touch. And not just any kind of white, but a pearly, ghostly, almost beautiful shade of white. He stepped along the wench in an attempt to make every single feather the same pigment that he had made her withers, so that it would seem as if her winglet had been dipped in the purest of paints. Game number two.
The towering palomino was completely at ease as he went about this new play of being an artist, the dream box musing over the last sentence uttered by the femora. She was naïve, to say the least. It wasn’t true even in the slightest – of course something that wasn’t free could be captured. The only difference was the change in captor. She had been chained to this place but now she was chained to him. If the mistress didn’t understand that, she was in for a rude awakening.
.x.
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Post by Phallan x; on May 19, 2014 13:16:02 GMT -5
Perhaps it was true that she had been forgotten when she stopped serving others. She had led her years with goodness and righteous doings for the sake of the light until she fell. Her sentencing for the one time in her life she had dethroned herself from the incriminate needs of others had set her in this place doomed. Fun and games was not on her wish list, she had thoughts swimming in her mind constantly of what she was to do now. It was clear she had no whim to help anyone other than herself now, she had no desire to seek others and ask them what assistance they required. She was a ghost of her once glorious self, a simple structure hanging a top of well build marrow that adorned a pair for flight. Would she turn herself over to hell and seek it's powers? It would better suit her feelings at the current if she was a bit of a demons figurine. A glass ornament set atop a shelf collecting dust particles was not what she was destined to be. The fire burning inside her gullet pressed her to pause and hear the hellion out. The ghostly opaque signature of the brute burned atop her withers as if telling her it's what she was replaced to be.
The hind had missed her form. It was all well indeed, who wanted a kick from a larger beast upon their skin? His lyricals hissed outward, the snake daring her to disobey his commentary. "What is there to tell? Nothing, but a odd little mishap of a lost little boy who found himself overwhelmed. He went to hell and became Satan's right hand...and here is is now. Nothing of substantial interest to myself." So it was, she told him what she thought of him. Perhaps she was testing the male, then again hadn't he done enough damage to her pretty little frame already? Her cavity swelled with oxygen before it released in a rough snort, echoing through the meadow. Auditory system twitched atop her crown while audits scanned the sire slowly.
Again, he was on the move. Did he ever just stand still for a moments time? It didn't seem this way but, at least he was keeping himself busy by moving his mass about the lome. Listening intently to his breath as he reach outward toward her cage and nipped at her avian appendage. How dare he even think about ruining what she had not even concurred yet. Outrage seemed to transform the calm lass quickly, flint pulled upward beneath her frame giving her height over his stance. Oral cavity gaped as she aimed for a well placed bite atop his crest. Huff was sent flying from passages tainted in onyx silk, as she landed to face him once again. He was one you couldn't remove your gaze from, even for an instant; lesson learned.
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Post by A P O L L O // on May 22, 2014 11:56:35 GMT -5
.x.
Neatly crafted acoustics fell forth lazily in a weak attempt to show interest in the maiden’s words. She wasn’t as entertaining as Apollo had hoped. How disappointing.“Lost little boy, hmm?” The hellion cackled, the tone of his voice hardening as the cruel laughter rang out in to the still, stale air. He could have taken offence to what the witch had uttered but Apollo couldn’t find the urge or the necessity to put the girl in her place. He had already done that. A twisted sneer distorted the handsome palette as the emotionless portals focused on the harlot’s left winglet. She had been marked. Again. Apollo was almost proud of himself, he was pretty good at this artsy stuff and you could say she was a canvass, the way her hide could be shaded a new colour with the mere graze of his pearls.
The motions that followed this brief dialogue were sudden, the banshee striking at the palomino with sharp flints, her gaping mouth reaching for the thick crest of his curvature. Rather than shy away from the oncoming assault, Apollo twisted his powerful anatomy, the distinct zenith tilting on its axis as he too reached out with bared enamels. When the pera landed from this half-hearted flight, the front of her slender nape would fit neatly in to his waiting jowls. And that’s exactly what happened. A sharp, contemptuous chortle rumbled through the impressive bastard’s cage at his own cunning. Blood stained ivories gripped ever so slightly on to the chocolate pelt right above her chest. Apollo wanted to marvel at how easily this had worked but he wasn’t willing to let go just yet.
The colossal structure became very still, all of his senses focusing on the prey that stood before him. Fuscia tainted nostrils quivered as he inhaled the seductive feminine perfume, twins leaning forward almost out of their sockets as his stare found hers. Unnerving, no doubt. Apollo didn’t bite in to the nymph’s tender flesh although damn, did he want too. Self-control wasn’t something that he often exercised but every last bit of it was being utilised right now. If he hadn’t previously been of substantial interest to the empress, he certainly would be at this moment in time. Apollo didn’t move, he didn’t say anything but the roughness of his tongue did slip out from between the peeled velvets, tantalizingly stroking her serpentine. Acute senses could almost hear and feel the rush of crimson as it surged through her arteries. This made him thirsty. And that was a dangerous situation to be in. The vixen would have to tread carefully now, she was still in his grip. How will you get out of this one?
.x.
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Post by Phallan x; on May 23, 2014 12:36:01 GMT -5
Skull tilted slightly. His vox seemed to boom with laughter at her statement, the viciousness curling from his snout in hot reprieves of carbon. He had hoped she was entertaining? She was not here to entertain the demon but, perhaps it would be of interest to her dwindling patients to have herself a bit of enjoyment of this crisscross path. Mind was sent into a twirling frenzy to ponder a way in which to erect herself over him and give his mind a boggle. It was to be a hard item to place, the brute was rather cunning and precise in his actions. Satellite lifted momentarily to view the burden she had crossed, yes, he was intelligent you could see it in his eyes.
Her quick snip had turned on her. Why had she not thought of how easily it would be for him to strike right back at her? She had not dealt with the cunning males in quiet some time and she was learning quickly to be more active in movement. As he gripped her nape she latched down harder on his muscular architecture. Her daggers smashing into his hide with harshness, pulling away with a firm grip still intact. He had not brought forth more crimson from her veins, odd. Moisture from the male seemed to plat her pelt along her neck, yuck! It was no form of affection from him no doubt, however, it was still sending the weary vibe through her form. His stare was met with her own, mind quivered from the racing pace at which it was processing information. Breath sucked inward, oxygen filled her lungs rapidly allowing her to recover and start anew. She was still in his midst, he would be able to take her again easily yet, she was going to avoid this option in his mind.
He was in a sort of trance state listening to every beat her organ thumped inside of her chest. She quickly arched her crest upward, hooven leaving the ground and spinning the opposite direction they had been facing. Haunches smashed into the male's cage with force, allowing her to propel from his side quickly to avoid a retaliation of sorts from him to keep her still. Flint kicked up at him, not to strike him with force but, to warn him she didn't like his drool over her fur. Digits pranced, tendons pulling her limbs up then smashing them back to the Earth. Snort rang through the air, stale carbon fluttering upward into the atmosphere. Only a short distance was made between he and her before she whirled around to face him again. Almost like a boomerang, no matter how far away you threw it, it always returned. Her test was being given, was he going to bring his mass forward toward her and continue this little game or was he going to give up? She imagined he would come after her again, it seemed to be his nature but, if he was to walk away she would continue the game he had started.
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Post by A P O L L O // on May 24, 2014 12:43:41 GMT -5
.x.
The winged harlot had proven to be an easy target thus far, her weak mind unable to calculate what would transpire next. That was the fairer sex though, wasn’t it? Pathetic, dependent and unworthy. And how could you argue against that when here Apollo stood with the little witch in his clutches. Thick plumage swayed behind his impressive form, the longest strands of cremello hair hovering above the infertile soil. Slender diagnostics shot back to their graves, flattening beneath the mass of threads that fell handsomely against the palomino hide as she struck. The dove had sunk her enamels in to Apollo’s crest, the grip firmer than he might have expected. A sharp, shrill squeal erupt from the vagabond’s throat, a primitive sound voiced in protest to her attack, as he let the maiden go. Maybe the fire was finally beginning to burn in the pera; at least it seemed as if she was coming around to his games.
Adrenaline began to mingle with the oxygen ridden crimson that surged through the thousands of capillaries within the towering bulk. You could say Apollo was getting his ass kicked, but I wouldn’t bother making such ridiculous assumptions. She had lashed against his dappled pelt with her blunt hooves and yet still, her dentals had a hold of his flesh. The thestral king chuckled, the sound emotionless as always but lacking a certain edge as he allowed himself to be pulled around. That’s right, allowed. The powerful muscle of his serpentine lowered from its summit, sturdy limbs pounding at the topography below as Apollo manoeuvred, following the lady’s motions so that the damage to his crest would be minimal. The assault had derailed his train of thought, the forked ribbon no longer craving the taste of blood – for the moment. And now she pivoted, only to lash out again, her hinds making contact with his brawny cage with a dull thud. Damn, what an attack. And that is sarcasm by the way. It was an uncoordinated attempt, yes, but the empress was delivering blows.
As she danced away from him, Apollo observed through beautiful lenses, the hazel staining glittering with malevolence. It was as if an eeriness had been sprinkled in to the atmosphere, the silence gathered and all that could be heard was the equines’ quiet breathing. Apollo’s posture shifted, the faintly roman profile lowering so that an invisible straight line could be drawn from his spinal region, through the boa, to his skull. A predatory stance. The distance between the two was not that great and with one, long stride, it had been diminished. Twins rose to the surface, fluttering atop his attic as the golden structure came face to face with the banshee, his broad chest bumping her own as his cranium was pushed vigorously against the dame’s shoulder. Apollo’s actions were docile and unusual. This isn’t how a king reacted after being attacked. Tut tut, maybe he was going soft.
Salmon tinted nostrils dilated, the delicate lining of skin quivering slightly as he swallowed the air intoxicated with her scent. The coiled muscle of his nape unfurled, allowing his velvet soft muzzle to brush along her slender bodice with a feather light touch. Apollo stepped further along the vixen so that they were standing parallel, his crown falling now to the terrain beside her steel irons, a soft huff of carbon expelled against the earth. The position was maintained for several lingering seconds before a deep sound rose from the depths of the hellion’s cage, something akin to a growl. Powerful hinds lashed out with incredible force, with the half-hearted hope of damaging her pretty little head. As the muscular appendages landed, Apollo’s lappets curled away, zenith snaking towards the damsel’s hind cannon. Going soft? I guess not.
.x.
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