fudo
peasant x.
Posts: 63
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Post by fudo on Apr 16, 2009 0:10:02 GMT -5
There was different terrains. Different sceneries for the comforts and moods of the varying overlords that ran their empire with the same emotionless facade, the same belittling stare, the same aura of dominance that radiated from every pore dotting their ever prominent diaphragms. If you have seen one overlord, you have seen them all. It truly wasn't the ruler the bitch feared; it was the fact that as she picked her way through the statues of jagged granite - dripping moist from perspiration - the overwhelming thought that she could twist something wrong and be on the bad end of her last train ride. Smirk danced with mad ferocity along the vixen's normally deadpan expression; the mocking grin not quite reaching both her lenses, sheathed with mahogany and only one custom accounted with a half-moon of beryl in the sphere. Squalls buffered her bodice of speckled rose; brushing back her obnoxiously long tendrils to reveal the cool glass of her left disk before ceasing the caress of invisible tendrils and leaving the femora breathless with the sickening aroma of death. Never ending life - if it could even carry a pungent odor. Although, this time, upon the small puffs of twisted oxygen hung a cologne that was undistinguished. Clearly male with the undertones of another Dulcinea; the over lady or a mere pet to the leader? Fudo would find out, if she so dared too. But didn't you know, if you're going to bother living, why not live abit dangerously?
Pace quickened; carriage pulling together like a spring being coiled as prospectives pumped from beneath their blankets - almost urning to be released from their binds to spring from the demoness with a flamboyant display of popping sinew and the blueish tint of her hemoglobin. Fudo wasn't among her own here, and that was stashed momentarily in her cerebrum for further thought, linked mainly to her survival instincts. Feeling the day drag into night was nothing here; for the sky above moved from a sorrowful gray to the inky complexion of the darkest hours, no such star shone alone in the shrouded sky. For being alone in this desolate world, was sometimes the only way to survive.
As the princess ventured into the pathless, light less world - deeper into the clutches of the thestral dictators - the aroma of both death, life over-used, and masculine heightened to almost an painful extend. Singeing the inside of the femora's nasal passages; passing an short choked sound that echoed through the abyss above her tiara, meant to be a sneeze. Her stealth and cover blown completely, Fudo trudged ahead like a loyal soldier prepared and headed into battle with their head thrown high and their last remembered steps arching with pride in themselves, and no one else. Feeling the resistant tug of foliage along her hocks, she attempted to shake from the thorn-infested and equally decaying vegetation as sienna flats peered into the world around her. Now that the flattened ovals of her pupils had adjusted(somewhat) to the intense darkness, she could make out a sliver of palomino - the very touch of a cremello mane attached to the heavily gibbous shank of an approaching equine. His steps nearly unheard with such stealth, yet his anatomy unmistakable as wide iris's took in the immensity and penetrating glances from his bodice. 'Brow' rose; amity pounding within her chassis in mere surprise of meeting someone here on such an god awful night. Yet she was sure he ruled this toposhere, with an iron fist and heavy jaws. But hell, nothing could scare her.
Knowing she had certainly been identified by the Bruno, fudo stepped forth with confidence that echoed through each dagger that punished the topsoil she ventured upon. Deadpan expression covering her once bemused tablet; facade of innocence stripped away long ago by the cruel hands of reality. I suppose - She stopped her once more scrutinize his diaphragm, jostling her tassels along her neckline before continuing. You are the czar, sire? The flicker that danced behind her translucent lenses was the zest for life, the need to feel like she danced on the edge of a razor blade that would mangle her limbs and saw her corpse into two equal parts. Narrowing her gaze, she adverted it into his own gems of umber. Would that make me, an intruder?
Oh baby, you're only a pawn in her game.
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Post by A P O L L O // on Apr 16, 2009 17:20:38 GMT -5
.x. A worse disposition than usual had overcome the impressive beast, his constant desire for blood placing him on the brink of insanity. How can you fulfil your thirst when there’s no one around? Thick, heavy whip cracked against his powerful, silkily feathered appendages, a faint growl escaping the golden boy in response as he meandered absently through the dead timbers. Neat acoustics remained hidden beneath the abundance of creamy threads lacing his naturally arched crest. Nostrils flared, inhaling the tender fragrance of fear and death, mingled with the taste of an unknown female. Perhaps another play thing? No. He wasn’t in the mood. A demonic sneer distorted his handsomely rugged features, black liblas curling back to reveal a glint of blemished incisors. You think we’re all the same, eh? Girl, you have no idea. His dream box mused to itself, cackling as he made assumptions about the little whxre that invaded his domain. Intruder? I think so. He wasn’t like the others. Rogues and darks? Pft, what were they compared to him? Yeah, he’s arrogant. Get used to it. Sharp thuds resounded through the vicinity as the hellion manoeuvred towards the scent, completely aware of her position as she struggled over the craggy peaks. He could almost hear her laboured breaths, the dull beat of her heart. He could sense her vulnerability. Amusement sparked emotion and it flashed across his noble veneer. Distaste and excitement. The calling of another kill. Hazel portals shone with malice as his heartless gaze searched the barren environment. The darkness was his home, the shadows providing comfort to the un-earthly creature and so he found no difficulty in travelling this stubborn terrain. But hey, don’t get me wrong. He wasn’t pxssed off by her disturbance, simply eager to greet the wench that could suffice his greatest addiction. Isolde was for other purposes. He paused briefly, his distinct zenith jerked violently higher in to the still, suffocating atmosphere as glittering cameras rolled smoothly within their sockets, his stare slithering over the adobe for no apparent reason. Apollo wanted her to himself, nothing should interrupt the intense pleasure he was about to receive. Long, sturdy stilts eventually propelled his bulky figure further in to the undergrowth, rotating quarters whip lashed with his untended plumage as the emperor subconsciously warned the vampires away from his sweet crimson. The toned muscles rippled beneath his palomino exterior with each confident stride, dominance and authority oozing from the thestral as he strolled through his kingdom. You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself in to. The withering zephyr brushed with frailty against his towering carcass, causing the fine hairs of topaz to stand on end momentarily. The air was cold and the night was still. He loved it. The virile weaved effortlessly through the barkens before veering sharply to the right so that he was out in the open, completely visible beneath the stray rays of moonlight that were able to break through the dense mass of lingering clouds. A single lobe rose from its grave, flicking in response to the harlot’s stumbling and awkward movements. A callous chuckle rumbled through his flawless chassi but he repressed it just in time, his demeanour changing instantly as he slipped in to ‘assassin’ mode. His motions became more precise, carefully calculated and perfectly executed as a deafening silence enveloped the behemoth. He was down wind of the banshee and he wished to take full advantage of it. His glare ran the length of her figurine within seconds, taking in her feminine form with indifference. She appeared as being ‘common’ to him. And if you don’t like it, too bad. As soon as the nymph’s judgmental tones pierced the silence, the warrior side stepped back in to the giant oaks, his enormous structure plunging in to the dark. He vanished like a ghost. Sire? Hmm, thanks for the respect. It doesn’t put you in his good books though. The tyrant circled the pera, stealthily moving through the shadows, his attention acutely focused upon the newcomer. He neared her backside, velvets parting as his thick nape arched back like a snake ready to strike. He took one single step out of the black, his enamels rapidly reaching for the flesh of her rump, his actions vicious and untamed. The adrenaline surged through his veins, a high pitched whistle erupting from his throat as his pearls sunk in to her delicate hide. It was a sharp, painful bite but not hard enough to draw blood. Not this time. The brute leapt around the dove, sudden abrupt movements that were uncoordinated and messy. As if he cared about appearances, he was almost God like anyway. He see-sawed on to his fores, mighty hinds lashing out at the nothingness with crushing force as his plentiful laces were thrown ferociously through the atmosphere. He came around to her front, a smug expression decorating his faintly roman profile before a cruel snicker escaped his forked ribbon. The sound was merciless as it echoed around the duo.
Hushed vocals were ushered in to the stillness with utter self belief, his imposing physique curving elegantly around the petite maiden. “The name’s Apollo.” A single, long and relaxed stride drew the stallion alongside the fatale, dangerously close. His tongue unfurled out of his jowls before brushing roughly against her slender nape, his velvety muzzle nearing her twins slowly as demonically sarcastic tones were spat at the donna. “Oh no, not at all. You’re more like a guest…did you enjoy your welcome?” Blood stained canines grazed against her cheek bone tenderly before he retreated, giving his victim a moment to breathe.
No one plays games like him.
.x.
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fudo
peasant x.
Posts: 63
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Post by fudo on Apr 16, 2009 19:05:13 GMT -5
Ah. Such a naive creature would view these forward gestures as flirtatious, maybe even a small sign of infatuation in the beast presented before her gems. This was neither play nor courtly nature, this was the predator identifying his prey. Getting the usually trembling leery comfort, soothing the carcass before enamels embedded gouges within their skin, ripping away the leather with a sharp yank. Then you were finished, your hide, no longer yours.The first touch of his incisors were abrupt, a short nip of teasing as cruel simper laced her chops. Roses erecting before lying in their coffins against her bonce, mahogany lenses rolling white in their deathbeds as the femora peered upon the king with regalement. Oh baby , i may not be the prettiest bitch, but I'm smarter than any whXres you're going to find around here...
The second endearment was ductile; pearls dancing across her alabaster stippled robes with a pressure that was firm, yet not painful. The caress ended along her cheekbone; sending a shrill soprano lyric to pierce the wavering zephyr with distaste in his actions. He didn't care, and her vulnerability was simply a facade, such a creature would not be as jejune if they had managed to thrive this long. Although this Apollo barely looked beyond his next meal, and the next vixen to fXck. Chuckle of bestial caricature erupted from the taut cords of the duchess, echoing around the silence that cloaked the two equines, her own maniacal guffaw paralleled his own. Insanity ran deep through her spidered webs, spindling their dangerous fingers until it crushed her every sense into an darker hole of madness- yet - she could be as sane as ever when she wished. Bemused emotion curled over her labium's, venom seeming to curl from her throat and pierce the ambiance with the force of a snake striking. I don't suppose I asked your calling. Emotionless stare penetrated his own umber glasses, less than intrigued in the Bruno's 'godly' ways. He was another testosterone inundated bastard; meaning nothing for the duchess nor the challenges handed before her. 'Brow' rose in amusement in the animosity before throwing her cranial to the shrouded heavens above.
Why do you want me here, don't you have some other whxore to entertain? Crackle once more escaped the satin surface of her gag, curvature being rocked into a coiled spring as she danced with the Bruno, wherever he would go, she would be so intent as to stay in front of him. He was bigger, more stronger, but her lithe bodice could maneuver faster when in the mood of her escape. Her columns of stygian and her own wit could lead the duchess to her safety, they had before, and if not, her bite was as good as her bark. Never wavering her stare from his golden anatomy she seemed to mock him, incisors uncurling from beneath her velvet curtains to grab hold of his aureate carapace.
The piquancy wasn't enough to mar his fell, most likely wasn't anything at all to the dominating rouge she found both arrogant and emotionless. Like she had foretold herself before, they were all like that, nor originality showing through their emotions. Fudo didn't mean quite kindness, but all she met, were exactly and innumerably the same. You'll quench your unending thirst on my physique, feeling the warm plasma oil the rusted pipes of your esophagus. What's new, hm? Each step was taken aback from the pasha, not made hesitantly but in confidence, as if she dared him to have to actually work for something in his life - heaven forbid. Although the delight wire of predator and prey the duo danced upon, Fudo merely rolled her virginal disks with an flourish of her laces as banner swapped over her gibbous haunches. Each movement in her bodice seemed to echo the same deadpan sentiment that mirrored within her depths, unmoving and unchanging except for the soft stretch of the sinew as the muscles progressed her about the delicate situation presented. The wire was unyielding, frayed from the bantering between the two hoofed beings, now where would the tables lean?
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Post by A P O L L O // on Apr 19, 2009 15:17:36 GMT -5
.x.
You’re right, sweet heart. You surprise me with your level of intelligence. He isn’t playing, this is not a game to him. There are no emotions harboured within his blackened organ. Not for you. Fluffy plumes of smoke rose steadily in to the darkening welkin, escaping from his dilated nostrils quietly as the bastard scrutinized the foolish slxt. She wasn’t attractive or refined enough to cause his soldier to stir and so he didn’t feel the lust for rape. I guess you were safe there. I don’t know if that’s good or bad though. Would you rather be dangerously beautiful and raped or would you be how you are: commonly built and unwanted? Ha. Have fun pondering upon that. Toned muscles quivered briefly beneath his palomino hide, the bite of a vampire causing his flesh to crawl with disgust. Apollo’s noble zenith snaked towards his own shoulder, velvets parting so that blood stained enamels could place a swift nip on his flawless sheet of skin. Pent up frustration laced his powerful movements. They just weren’t taking him seriously enough. He was thestral king, for fxcks sake.
Slender audials leaned back against his chiselled attic, the movement sharp and quick as a deep growl emerged from his throat. Flirting with the royal rouge now, was she? Probably in the hope of gaining some sort of power. But she would always appear as a mere and pathetic creature before him. The dominant virile’s dream box was almost inclined to stick up for his newest sovereign. The exotic Iso. She was worthy of being his queen. She had to be in order to stand by his side. She appeared untouched, like a saintly virgin. Exactly what he wanted. The baron recoiled away from the nymph, retreating rapidly as her scream shattered the stillness. His stare narrowed, deadly and ever so cold. No one’s coming to save you. Not in this lifetime. His mind cackled, a cruel streak that reached the bone evident within the stallion. He was rotten. To the core. No, no, no. Apollo was one of a kind. A godly beast blessed by the hand of Satan himself. He didn’t feel the need to look towards the future when everything was perfectly in his control already. Let’s just enjoy the moment, shall we?
How can you be sure, my gentle Fudo, that you haven’t survived for so long only to be crushed beneath his force? They call it destiny, don’t they? A ‘brow’ rose slowly in response to her childish laugh, the brutal sneer smashing in to his handsome features, creating something awful and frightening. You can’t laugh so heartily when facing death. Your stupidity is finally coming to light. And it amazes me. Tones were spoken with confidence, drenched in bitter sarcasm before polluting the still atmosphere. “You don‘t have to ask, darling. Your desire to know is tragically overwhelming.” A cruel, heartless chuckle slipped smoothly from his forked ribbon, poisoning the precious oxygen with an intensity of venom that couldn’t be erased. Welcome to a kingdom without boundaries. If he meant nothing, why was she still lingering ever so close to his beautifully sculpted anatomy? Oh, why?
“I didn’t invite you.” Lyrics were abruptly hissed with a hatred that can’t be described. You’ve done yourself no favours by entering his domain. As the girl frolicked around his towering bodice, he listened intently, a single thorn pricking as her grating voice vibrated against his drums. Immediately, the thestral assumed that she was speaking of Isolde. Jealous, are we? Did you expect to work your way through his walls and in to his bleeding heart? Oh think again. The duo toned pera was no whxre, what on earth do you take him for? He wasn’t capable of making such a mistake. But it was true, like a dictator he watched his queen’s every move. He knew exactly where she was at all times. And right now, she was about to cause trouble for Dreadknot, the little darkling. The briefest sparks of emotion illuminated his distinctive visage at the thought before he re-surfaced from the depths of his mind, hazel portals instantly glazing over with a demonic glitter.
Long, sturdy extensions flexed, the czar’s motions nimble and light, almost floating as he followed the harlot. She wasn’t getting away. Not so easily. Untended plumage twitched momentarily before swaying behind his rotating quarters, the longest strands of cremello hovering above the infertile soil. As she reached for his golden pelt, a snarl was almost spat at the bxtch but he refrained from vocalising his annoyance. She wasn’t worth the breath. And she could mock him as much as she liked. At the end of the day, who was winning? Let me make it easier - it’s not you. He was original, he was different. You are just blinded by your expectations to realise. If this isn’t emotion then what else is it? Sparkling cameras rolled insultingly within their sockets, the whites of his eyes visible for a second before his words penetrated the gathering silence. “Would you like to get fxcked too?” His tongue escaped from its cage, stretching eagerly for the doll’s tender hide but she stepped just out of his reach. Hm, lucky.
Don’t play with fire, babe.
.x.
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