[m o n s t e r] how -should- i }F E E L{? .:Open:.

[».d.r.e.a.m. [ღ]]

dreamweaver

The world winked at me.

It was a quick sudden darkness, that lasted not even a minute. But that was all I needed to come thundering down from the heavens, galloping over the stars and leaving a trail of stardust in my path, to come to Earth. One mighty leap thrust me into a cloud, another onto the solid Earth. My hooves connected with the solid ground firmly, a fluid movement that was grace itself. In that moment, I felt a tug on my mind, and was no longer watching through my eyes, rather from the sky. The bird's eye view showed my painted Arabic body as it cantered over the valley, jumping flowing rivers of blue and disappearing in the trees. Blackness crept in around my peripherial vision, soaking up and taking everything over. My breathing quickened, seized with panic, then a sudden calmness. I knew what was happening, knew what was to come and what to expect. After all, I was dreaming, and it wasn't until now that I realized that. It had just seemed to real, so convincing...

When did I fall asleep?

My eyes flicker open, focusing slowely on the surroundings. God, where was I, how and when did I get here? I don't ever remember leaving... ah well, time for a new home and new chaos. I got slowely to my hooves, stretching out my muscles and shaking the loose debris from my mostly white body, enjoying the feeling of my mane stretching out and shuddering with the movement. My brain finally took in the surroundings, while I began to search for ways to manipulate them for my advantage. The hard rocks of the tunnel to the underworld were beginning where I stood, and without a glance at the surface world, I began my descent into the realm of the darks. Of course, it was just an underground cave, but what's life without an imagination? A floating, liquid grace trot carried me effortlessly, my hooves ringing against the stones and echoing in the cave. Pure white tail dragged, glowing against the dark surroundings, illuminating me and making me virtually impossible to miss. I'm so out of place, yet fit perfectly in at the same time. My ears pricked forward, awaiting the sound I know would greet me and announce the end of my journey... the spouting geyser. On cue, the whistle of boiling hot water reached my mind before bursting into a physical sound, the steam filling the tunnel and slicking my painted pelt.

I think I've found a new home.

None of the heavenly dream lands I've visited in sleep can compare to... this. It's so deliciously enticing and appetizing that I can't take my eyes off the lands that unfolded as soon as I stood at the mouth of the tunnel. The condensation covered the walls, ground and roof, creating a slippery surface that would snatch the hooves of an unadapted being and pull them down. Water dripped from the ends of salacities, stalagmites forming on the bottom. You could tell the age quite easily from this. The older it was, the thicker and taller the salacities and stalagmites were. Some were completely fused together, creating a pillar. One of these I circled, rubbing my hide against the slick surface and enjoying the texture. I'm so wrapped up in the appearance that my other senses seem to have dulled... I never did do my stallion check. You know, to make sure there's no stallions I don't know about so I can be at the advantage when it comes time to say hello. A quick scan revealed that I was alone. No stallions, mares, or foals to be seen.

But that doesn't mean one can't enter.

Icy blue eyes surveyed the entrance with glee. That's always been a very interesting feature, one that I like. One entrance, that serves as the only exit as well. One can come in here and be alone, or be ambushed and have no hope of escaping with their heads, lives, and for mares, their innocence. Circumstances. Always something waiting to be gambled, and always a gamble I'm willing to make. Oh, just for fun... I walked to the entrance of the tunnel, gazing at the upward slope with innocent eyes. Would anyone care to play? My voice was the voice of a light mare, sweet and innocent, playful and gentle. In every aspect, I look like a light mare, yet my hidden personality is something to be remembered once it's been displayed. Deception's key, after all, it's kept me alive this long... Someone could always change that, though.

The one summoned by my call was yet to be seen, if there was to be one.

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[Moon Princess]

THANATOS

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fear DEATH itself


Oh what luck! A mare, a lone one at that, wanders here. But me, experienced beyond my years, knew there was more to this gal than meets the eye. Despite her innocent act, I knew she was Dark. There was this…aura around her that distinguished her from a Neutral or Light.

Me, I was, at a glance, a Dark brute. An ebony pelt, a flaming crimson orb, and a dazzling sky blue one, and scars to boot. Yep, I was the stereotypical Dark stallion.

Even as her hauntingly sweet and fake voice penetrated my ears, I had approached her, circling her slowly, not caring if she was scared or not. Rule them with an iron fist, my father said, and I do just that. Never give them any leeway, son, or they’ll turn on you like flies on a carcass. Even if father was not someone who raised foals caringly, he was a good role model.

If this filly, for she was less than four to my eyes, wanted to play all innocence and purity, then I would play along. Deceive her then reveal all. I stood in front of her, crown less than twenty centimetres away. I turned my head slightly, letting the red eye take dominance.

Dear, didn’t you know? This is a very dangerous place for one such as yourself. You couldn’t be more unfortunate. Around here, missy, anything could happen. You could meet a nice Light stallion and go with him, and he would treat you like a queen, or you could meet someone like me.

I trust she was smart enough to figure out what I meant when I said that she was very unfortunate. I wasn’t exactly being subtle.

ooc;
words: 285
muse: dead
notse: nope =)
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[».d.r.e.a.m. [ღ]]

dreamweaver

Oh, joy, I've been answered.

There was a slim moment I thought no one would answer my call, and that would be a shame as well as something I'd never experienced before. They always came running, and almost always left with a slit throat. Figuratively, of course, because once you're throat is slit, you're done for. The were the occasional few who wooed me, then only met their demise later on. You can postpone it, but it's there, as inevitable as the sun is ready to set on a new day. My gaze sweeps over the stallion's form, taking in each detail and feature greedily. One must never be too careful in the judgement stages; miss a detail, and it could be a fatal mistake. I'll give the brute one thing; he fits the stereotype perfectly, except that blue eye, which has obviously caught my attention. My head tilts to the side, and this I only know because the muscles start to protest before I realize I'd done it. I just wanted a better look is all, honest. Two different colored eyes. One dark, one light... Very interesting.

Perhaps it means he's the best of both worlds?

As the stud circles me, I grow edgy. I don't like being circled. I feel like an animal in a cage at the circus, being poked and prodded by eyes to please the lookers. My ears swivel back, then forward once more, making me look indecisive when I was actually cooling my temper. That's the hard part of being me, keeping myself in check when I feel the need to lash out. I let the stud circle me, keeping my gaze trained on him and turning with him, pivoting on my inside hind leg so all he ever saw was my chest and head. This could or may not bother him, but it was mostly to keep a hoof from flying out at him at some unexpected interval. The last thing I wanted was to be circled and nipped, with the obvious 'you'll do' being whispered to me. I have a say in the role of my life, and I'll prove it. I didn't come here to be claimed; I came here to show the stallions they can't expect everything on a silver platter, some things you have to work for.

I may not be the best, but it's an important lesson.

His words reach my ears, a sinister smirk crossing my lips. He must know, judging from what he said and how he said it, that I was playing. Dollface, I croon, taking a step forward so my muzzle was inches from his ear. You'll find that you are, indeed, the unfortunate one. By the end of this dance, you'll know your place, and I won't be seen as the damsel in distress. I'm the cat, you're the mouse. Are you willing to play this game with me, love? I step back enough that I can see his full face, the smirk gone from my muzzle. Instead, I looked out from beneath my white forelock, seeing only from the eye it wasn't covering. Slowely, that smile slid back into place, fixating itself on my muzzle and remaining there. Did he know what he was getting in to? The risks he was taking coming to me, of all the mares? I guess not, or else the mistake wouldn't have been made int he first place.

Let's hope he's a fast learner.

[Moon Princess]

THANATOS

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fear DEATH itself


My this lady had spirit. Huh. Looks like she saw through my ploy as I saw through hers.

First thing’s first, lady. Never call me dollface, ‘kay? You call me that again and you’ll find some rather nasty bites in your neck, and you wouldn’t want that now would you? Secondly, I don’t look at you and think you’re the damsel in distress. Far from it, dear. And third…I would love to play this little game of yours, certainly.

I stared at her for a moment longer, then offered a compliment.

You have spirit, lady. I admire that.

I hoped she realised how much she earned that compliment. It was not something I did daily, or even monthly. Maybe…one every two years. Exactly. Not a common occurrence for me, as you can see.

I shifted to the my right leg automatically, since my left leg was starting to ache from too much movement. Stupid scar, stupid b*****d father, stupid Lights. Stupid everything. They should just go die and rot in a hole for all I care. Again, I turned my red orb towards the little banshee, the scar across it standing out even more as the moon shone even brighter, showing my two scars in the brighter light. I lifted my head to stare into the dark blue yonder, wondering what type of fate brought me in front of this little banshee. I grinned, a smirk to match hers.

Perhaps you’d like to come with me to my kingdom.

I did not mention she would be the first to do so. Why give her a big ego?

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[».d.r.e.a.m. [ღ]]

dreamweaver

Every word he said amused me.

My gaze washed over his body, perked ears listening half-heartedly to the beast's speech. Doll, don't call me lady. It's DreamWeaver, to you. I lifted my dished skull to show I meant what I said, an heir of dominance surrounding me. I wasn't a pushover, and he'd be sure to learn that. Darling, what are a few bites here and there, hm? I'm sure I've suffered worse. My mind involuntarily traveled to the wolf bite injury on my leg, even though it had healed scarless, it still bothered me sometimes. Shrugging those thoughts off, I returned to the situation on hand. Just what game do you suppose I'm playing, dear? I'm not playing stupid, I'm seeing how far I can push the brute, how much he'd take before snapping. After all, I did come to the claiming grounds to have fun, not to actually go home with a stud. No, a stallion would have to impress me greatly for that privelege, and what has he done to impress me so far?

Tossed words around.

His compliment was perhaps the most amusing. And you're not as stupid as the stallions I've met in my travels. If he was smart, he'd take it as a compliment. I don't toss them out like they toss candy at a parade. They're far and few between, usually sarcastic, and at the same time as being a compliment, strangely can be taken as an insult. Life's funny like that. I circled the stallion, surveying his body and taking in the scars. Each circle brought me closer, until my hide brushed up against his so I could take in his scent. Do you think I'm that easy, that those words are all it would take to get me to become a mindless sheep who follows a stallion? I'm not part of a collection, lover boy. Consider what you're getting yourself into before you truly persue that offer. My words were whispered, dancing with amusement. I've been part of collections, I know what they're like... and how to get out of them. So what if I had to kill a few to gain freedom? Yet his scent didn't wreak with mare, so perhaps it was more than meets the eye.

Perhaps it was different.