YellowROOM
New Member
"...And those who were seen dancing were thought to be crazy by those who could not hear the music."
Posts: 17
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Post by YellowROOM on Jun 11, 2011 19:52:27 GMT -5
RENEGADE
_______________
“A blind man is never keen on waltzing.”
The worlds are always whispering, conversating with each other, they’re always in good company. The beasts that roam these worlds are mere viruses, things forgotten, unattended to. Renegade unsurprisingly fit this mold. The great baron, (haha, great baron) strode aimlessly across this island, this spanse of pebbles he called home, supposedly. Over-dilated black eyes stared blankly at what was in front of the stallion. Nothing.
Well now, what an odd surprise. Nothing, eh? Perhaps it’s because you’re a blind bastard, no? Tell me, Renegade, silly boy, how this happened to you. Oh, you were born this way, hm? Poor you, poor Rennyboy. What a sorry old lad.
Meaningless, the clock was. How old are you now, Ren? Seven or something. The milieu of empyrean and shadows did nothing to warm the chassis of ecru. Pillars stained with night danced lightly, one misplaced footfall for this’n here, and the damage could be done. A blind man is never keen on waltzing, now is he? One sigh after the next as boredom overtook the mascule. In any case, he had no place to be, did he?
He halted. Uh, skidded, essentially. Pausing abruptly, he raised his maw to the wind. It blew him kisses softly, nonchalantly. Closing his eyes, Renegade breathed in the essence of the shoreline, the meaty smell of low tide. Stepping quickly, the boy trotted towards the beach, or what he suspected was one. As he felt the substance underneath him give way to sand, he screamed excitedly, and galloped.
As odd as this gesture was, it made a plethora of sense to any sightless being. He knew that where there was sand, there were no obstacles. Freedom. Something his core always pleaded for. Since, freedom has a limit. And though for most stallions, that limit was their power, his was not. He was powerful, that was not an issue. But what hindered him, were the atramentaceous shadows that danced in front of him, never tiring.
But, he had brains enough to move on, always move on. He wasn’t exceptionally social, and when he was, no one was told about his little defect, no. Ren could play along, pretend to look the steed up and down, cajole or jeer back at them. He could play the sight-seer’s game.
He didn’t have to be so alone. That thought brought him to terms with himself, always. Tempers never did make good friends. He killed her. Like the sorry fuck he was. He killed her. And if that wasn’t always on his mind, then he’d be something of hate. But it was, and so he was not. He wasn’t so bad, was he?
Haha, oh silly Ren. Don’t you know, nothing tranquil can last? There are no happy endings, are there? I hope one day you get a taste of reality. Stupid boy.
muse || eh.
words || 515
[/color]
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Post by OH HAI SPI! on Jun 11, 2011 20:18:01 GMT -5
M I N K A .
the plaomino mare sighed. why? why had all this happened to her. why was she the one to lose her father in the war? why not her friends fathers? and why? why did her mother have to take the hit so hard. she didn't. at least she didn't think she did. ' why? ' she screamed. but her screams were muffled by the ocean. she was so filled with hate and hurt. she quickly turned away from the water, her blue eyes filled with the same hate they had been for years. at times like this she just wanted to die, the hole in her chest where her heart used to be just throbbed. she wondered why there had to be war, and fighting. it was so unnecessary. it was so hurtful. others just didn't understand. they didn't get it! why, why, why?
she stomped her hoof in the sand, and flicked her tail. it was time to put those feelings aside and continue on as she had for years now. she broke into a trot and followed the ocean. after maneuvering through some rocks she spotted a figure in the distance. a smirked played it's way onto her maw. perfect. someone else to make miserable. as the horse got closer she could see it was an ebony colored stag, racing towards her. she stopped abruptly, waiting for him to slow and approach. she nickered softly, hoping to draw him in. while some though of killing, she merely thought of emotionally bothering them. not nearly the pain she suffered.
the gulls above head called out noisily. and the rushing water gently rolled onto shore. the big yellow ball was slowly sinking toward the horizon, and there was a warm breeze blowing off the water. the smell of salt filled her nostrils, and she inhaled deeply. she liked that smell. the beach was one of her mother's favorite places to be, it was one of hers as well. too bad she used this place to find some victim of her verbal abuse. it really was a pity. she sighed, she did what she could. she tried not to think of what her mother would think of her doing this. she didn't care anymore. she was wronged, so should other people. she stomped her hoof once more, with a flick of her cream colored tail.
her blue eyes, the color of the ocean, focused back in on the stag. he looked alot larger than her. he was as black as night, and still running towards her. was he planning on stopping? if not she intended on racing after him until he stopped. she needed someone to make miserable. it had been a while since she'd bothered anyone. she let another snort escape her nostrils as he got closer. she lifted her nose in the air trying to catch his scent. she hadn't ever seen him around, then again, isola was a pretty big island. she hadn't seen half the inhabitants of it yet. it had only been a couple months since she arrived here.
speech thoughts
MUSE || alright c:
WORDS || 510
FOR || yellow/renegade
NOTES || eh xD
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YellowROOM
New Member
"...And those who were seen dancing were thought to be crazy by those who could not hear the music."
Posts: 17
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Post by YellowROOM on Jun 11, 2011 21:32:43 GMT -5
RENEGADE
________________
"If only he could live."[/i]
The glassy roar of the ocean had become just backround noise, as he started to drift into the foam and salt of the water. He smiled softly as the salt stung the minor cuts from the verdure on his graphite-hewn appendages. Renegade loved the wind here, it tousled his threads rapidly, spilling them onto his calm façade. He shook them away, though not like them being there marred his vision in the slightest.
The afternoon had been cheerful enough, with the abundance of singing gulls, his mood was that of the color green, peaceful. The stallion was jarred a bit as an unsuspected wave manifested itself into him, and he snorted discontentedly, throwing his crania in the process.
Oh Ren, just as much of a fool as you always were. Wise? Pftt! I bet you couldn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know.
A cry pierced the veil of tide, and Renegade’s harks flitted sideways, catching the sound. Sunlight danced on his buckskin bodice and he backed up, now fetlock deep in the tide. Would the mare approach him? It was an angry mare, maybe a worried one? He wondered about her, wondered if she was coming. He stepped onto the sand, feeling for the reverberation of her hoofbeats, closing the space between them both. He found himself starting to do so, at a leisurely trot. He whinnied lightly, and tossed his mane.
He let his lips pursue a smile, and his outward language was harmless and open. He was radiating calm, sometimes it seemed to be infectious. Renegade stopped, now only a mere 30 feet was left between them, he suspected. He wasn’t going to go all the way to her, no. That would make his presence seem threatening. He, for one, was not usually threatening.
I like that. You say usually. Because you have the sick reason to. You asshole, you murderer. I bet people can tell when they look at you, I bet they know.
He stood, his daunting stature was outlined in wind, the fibers blowing across the reaches of his neck, making him look powerful. Well, he was. Just a blind little boy, s’all. If only his sight didn’t make up for so much of his life. If only he could live.
Renegade let out a greeting, it tumbled softly from his vox. ”Hello, there.” He said, a hint of wonder in his smooth lyrics. He wondered if she would close this gap, flee, or something unsaid, hm?
[/font]
muse || Not where I want it to be. >.<
words || 428
notes || Just a reminder, Ren is buckskin, not black. :3
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Post by OH HAI SPI! on Jun 12, 2011 13:39:19 GMT -5
M I N K A .
the mare's light colored coat almost blended in with the sand. her light colored coat resembled the sand, and her eyes the ocean. it wasn't any wonder, her mom had spent so much time there she was born to resemble it. the buckskin colored stag halted about thirty feet away, the snow white sand was the only thing between them. he called out a greeting, obviously not willing to come any closer. ' hello. ' she called back. her words like that of a melody. she pranced towards him, stopping very close in front of him. ' who're you? ' she sneered. she snorted softly, in disgust. she made a slow circle around him, not threatening, she just wanted to look him over. she made a full circle and stood again where she had before. she flicked her tail again, with another quick snort.
she found it odd that he was just.. staring. not really looking this way or that, just frozen, like a statue. ah well, after much interaction with equines she found you couldn't trust them all to be perfectly normal and sane. she'd met quite a few oddballs and he seem like her might fit quite well into that category. the judgmental mare waited, growing more and more agitated by the second. she had no patience anymore. someone that knew her as a foal would have never been able to tell it was her by her actions. she was a totally different horse. lots of things had changed in her life, she figured she may as well.
she didn't know why, but her thoughts always drifted backwards towards all the bad things that had happened. she never looked ahead at what could happen. sometimes she thought it was her, but other times she thought it to be in her genes, just like her mother who became so distraught. she hoped that if she ever became a mother one day she could do so much better. would she even be mentally stable enough to care for a baby? her life was plagued with so many things, almost as if she were cursed.
the salty air still blew towards the pair, tossing her mane and tail about wildly. it probably meant a storm would soon be on it's way. she never liked to be on the beach during a storm. hopefully it would be a day or so before it hit the coast, and she would have plenty of time to evacuate the beach area. the sky was clear all except for a few tiny clouds here and there.
speech thoughts
MUSE || alright c:
WORDS || 431
FOR || yellow/renegade
NOTES || sorry for messing up his coloring, i fail >.<
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YellowROOM
New Member
"...And those who were seen dancing were thought to be crazy by those who could not hear the music."
Posts: 17
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Post by YellowROOM on Jun 16, 2011 21:44:23 GMT -5
RENEGADE
________________
The sun was fading fast, gossamer wings collided into eachother, a storm slowly approaching. Soft ecru ears flicked back and forth, catching the girl’s music. A sneer, did he detect? Renegade pondered for a moment. Her words were harsh, yet dripped with honey in their tone. Peculiar. He frowned, snorting loudly and with emphasis.
”The name’s Renegade. And you, girl?” he asked, a sliver of foreshadowed jest in his tone. She was a different kind of mare, he knew already. The silence screamed for but a few moments, as the sea was beginning to change into high tide. Effortless, nature was. Always patterned, never confused. It was interesting to the boy, how the makeup of his surroundings was so perfectly coordinated unto itself. That fact made him feel finite, and lost.
The salty air made his feathered fetlocks crusty, as well as his mane, which became windblown and wavy in the stained wind. He wondered, foolishly, what she looked like. He never was a judgmental boy, as he had no outward appearance to see of anything, besides outlines, in the right light. So, he looked forward, trying to make out her shape. As he peered, he could possibly see she was…compact and lithe. Maybe? Maybe she was large and bulky. He really had no idea.
Renegade sighed, hating his loss of vision. He was born this way, yes. But why, could he picture exactly how he looked, and how others would look? A silly concept, yes. Maybe he had no idea at all.
muse || Horrible.
words || 253
notes || SO sorry for the wait.
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