Bad To the Bone

[Tikayla]

She was avoiding her homelands. She really didn't like being ignored by the lead stag and his queen his lovely, beautiful, arrogant queen who was annoying the hell out of Honey Flower. Seriously what right did she have to annoy her so much. Just because she was the queen it seemed to give her permission to do whatever she wanted and Honey Flower hated it. She had no doubts that if she kept up her current attitude she would be demoted to a slave mare. She knew that she might be useless and old but she would not, would not let herself be ruled by a young arrogant mare who seemed to think that she was the best.

*Well, I guess that she'll learn, the day he tires of her games* she thought amused. She knew that Joker was growing impatient of being ignored and of the mare's games. He would be wanting more than just a look, he would want to know. And it really wouldn't be long now.

[£€G@©Ÿ]

The weak ones. Especially his sister, the one who fled in the face of danger. Bah! He'd get her back soon. A hard, bloodstained flint lands on the heated rock with the burning fires that are like his anger. The black stag looks up, finally noticing where he has wandered, his dark thoughts taking him over. He bares his teeth and closes his eyes as a spurt of steam from a hole shoots up in his face. Angrily, he curses under his breath. Then the stag sees her. She was standing alone. Quickly, the stag turns his ebony head away. Why should he care about what happened to a stupid whore? For all he cared, she could be raped, there and now! He swishes his tail and places another heavy flint upon the molten ground. He flicks his ears and takes a step closer to the mare, standing alone. His dark eyes look out from under his thick mane, and he lowers his head, but not like one in submission. His maw is inches from the warm rocky ground, and he looks up at her, eyes watching from under a forelock of thick, wavy, Friesian mane.

Words: 206
Muse: mounting
Mood: dark, angry
Notes: I have to go, sorry

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[Tikayla]

At first she does not notice him, then when she does she ignores him, not particularly interested in a stag as such. He is dark, since he is here he must be but she doesn't really mind. But she longs to search for power within him, to discover whether he was the one to lead the darks to real victory unlike the weak Joker who ruled her now.

"Hello m'lord, I am Honey Flower, how may I service you," she asks, a double meaning on the word service. She knows that it is there and she doubts that he will not catch it. But if he does miss it, well he is not a good stag. No real stag would miss such a double meaning. She does not worry about being forward. This is a stag who probably is interested in mares, dark or light, so long as he can have is pleasures.

"How has your day been, I hope that it has been pleasant and that you are willing to make civil conversation, among other things," she muttered. She wondered at first whether he had heard her and then dismissed the wonder. He must have. He looked like he was watching her quite intently.

[£€G@©Ÿ]

The mare speaks to him. He raises his head, his dark eyes looking over her body. He thinks he knows why she has laid stress upon the word, service. He thinks, doesn't know, but thinks, and is pretty sure. My day, m'lady? Overly polite, much? Definatly. Perhaps he'll lure her into a trap, and then she would be of service, as she put it, to him. Fine. Apart from anger, and a whore of a sister. But, m'lady, what about you? I should hope a lovely mare like you would have a nice day. The stag pauses, thinking he is forgetting something. Ah, his name. The calling would be Zetsumi. Have you heard of me, m'lady? You might not have. I come from far off lands. The stag takes a step forward, dark eyes as unreadable and mysterious as ever. His tail flicks as he waits for her reply.

Words: 194
Muse: good
Mood: sly
Notes: service as in, breeding, right? Sorry, tired

[Tikayla]

Ah he is angry. Is day is merely fine and this sister, who could she be? He called her a whore and very few stags called their own sister's whores, of course she suspected him to be different.

"My day, m'lord has been fine, as yours has been. I am still quite angry. The stag that owns me as his mare does not want me and his queen is the jealous sort. I am contemplating leaving but alas, I doubt that he will let me now that I have joined. As for knowing you, I fear that I do not I would love to learn all about you though, I am quite interested," she replied her voice soft and light while hiding the hint of seduction. She may be older than he but she can still play by the rules of being a devious temptress. Her good looks are not gone yet.

She steps a bit closer, not much just a tad to get a good sniff. He is dark, ever so dark. And the darkness is quite...overwhelming. He is, this stag, pure evil not a hint of light lurks within his scent. He is most certainly a dark, dark horse.

[£€G@©Ÿ]

It... is understandable, the stag says, after a slight pause. His voice is sly, and he wonders if the mare would care. He has noticed the slight hint of seduction in her voice, and truth be told, isn't quite sure what to make of it. Your masters. They don't sound.... the likable. I assume they are, neutrals or integrated? From your descriptions, I would be... ashamed, to call them the noble darks. He flicks his tail and looks down at the mare, brown eyes mysterious. He stands at 17 hands, and his ebony pelt wavers with the red light from the molten rocks. And, m'lady, as for my reputation. I should not expect the equines around these parts to know of me. I come from... far off lands. It is a long story, that, if we meet sometime again, perhaps I will tell. His lyrics are soft as they leave his raven maw.

Words: 187
Muse: good
Mood: sly, cunning
Notes:---

[Tikayla]

"Unfortunatly sir those who own me are dark and I am not allowed leave the herd, ever, unless I get permission from my stag. He is quite possesive of his toys," replies the mare. Her eyes flashing with anger. Still she manages to cool herself down reminding herself that this is not the stag who is angering her. She smiles toward him. He is nice enough and good looking, not too old yet, probably no much past 6 or 7 years of age and a dark. You rarely got a dark that would sit and make converstaion without throwing in jabs and barbed words. No she hadn't met a dark stag that either ignored you when a pretty mare walked by or wanted you a bit too much that you had to remind them about personal space.

He seems to be confuse. She is puzzled over that. Certainly a stag like him has had many mares. Too many perhaps to count. Maybe she should tone it down a bit. So it she does. She puts on a face that is a bit less seductive and she holds her body different, lets it droop a bit more and yet manages to keep a pretty air about her. She is not too old yet to be self concious around stags, especially handsome younger stags.

[£€G@©Ÿ]

Zetsumi snorts, disbelieving. Well, m'lady, I am deeply ashamed to call them darks. But you are more... darkish? Darkish? What kind of word is that? The stag is angry at himself for drawing a blank. He notices her change in posture, and thinks he knows why. His confusion dissolves as he starts talking with her, getting away from his history. His eyes wander over the mare's pretty bodice once more, hesitating on her rump before moving to watch her expression. A flints lifts and is placed on the hot ground once more as he dares to take another stride toward her. M'lady, I have not any mares, for I have no herd. No place to call home. And to tell you the truth, m'dear, I am not oversure I'd like to be a..pet to this so-called dark stag and his mare. His voice is soft and his tail flicks, as he lets the wind carry his scent toward her. And m'lady, you obviously more than a toy to be owned. You are a decent dark, one of the more better ones I have met, I think. The sly ghost of a smirk spread over his face for an instant, before it is gone and his face is expressionless once more.

Words: 252
Muse: great
Mood: sly
Notes:--

[Tikayla]

No he is to strong and handsome to be a pet to some stag. She thinks that as her eyes travel the contours of his body after noticing him examining hers. She looks at him, every part of him. She does it discreetly hoping that he doesn't notice but if he does, well oh well.

"M'lord I too am ashamed of the herd I choose. They are a ragtag bunch with really no idea how to be loyal to a herd and the queen is something else. Bit of a s.lut if you get my drift. Seems to flirt with everything male that gets close to her. She and the lead stag have this everlasting battle of wits such fun it is to watch, she is much smarter, though she does have an advantage. She is distracting to the stag," she tells him.

"Oh my lord I am much, much darker than they," she whispers coyly. Her eyes gleaming wickedly in their depths she waits. He is a good stag, and she likes him already, not perhaps in the love way but she is certain that she will never love again. After her rough handling by the stags she has encountered, she is sure that her soul is ruined from those days.

[£€G@©Ÿ]

The stag shakes his head, so he doesn't see her wandering eyes. Such a waste. Such a shame. He turns to her. The good news is, m'lady, I have found a dark worth talking to. His words are a mere hiss and his maw is hardly parted as the leave their den. No, I have wandered many lands, and not one dark is decent. It is quite sad. Half of them, I believe side partially, if not totally, with the lights or integrated. He spits out his last words. Bah! Lights! What useless beats they are. They do nothing but get in our way and attempt to be perfect and kind all the time. His voice rises with his anger, and his brown eyes flash dangerously. HIs head is turned, but it whips to Honey Flower. But m'lady, certainly you have some say in this? What think you about the lights? He flicks his ears, waiting for a reply.

Words: 197
Muse: great
Mood: angry
Notes:--

[Tikayla]

"M'lord my take on lights is that they are a waste of space. My own daughter, bah, she the daughter of myself and a light who forcebred me, I contemplate capturing her and bringing her back as a slave everyday. She is quite, quite light and it would be fun to see her broken," she responds. Her voice hard because of mentioning her daughter and her father, Shadowchaser, who forcebred her.

"I would like to either kill or take everyone of them as slaves, not that slaves are any use to my but I can see that the darks are quite interested in slaves and it would be so much fun to watch them be submitted to darkness all the time. Can't you see it now, a world without lights. Or at least a world in which lights have no say in anything and are slaves."

"M'lord what is your take on neutrals because personally I don't mind them I just wonder how they can be neutral. I mean honestly, how can you ignore the fact that a war is raging before your eyes."

[Pie]

ooooo this is just tooo interesting -contemplates on joining-
-reads some more-
Decision made
I'm joining, seeing Revair and s.lut in the same
sentance just excited me! XD cos thats exactly
what she is... HERE SHE COMES
muahahaha









To hell with the dark lands! This... Burning Peak was soo much more interesting. Perhaps it was the heat, or the fact that Revair had made so many friends here? Whatever. It was just so, intruging and now, Revair felt like being an intruder, she smelt Honey and for a while she listened as the old mare dissed Joker and herself. Bleh, what did Revair care? Age had obviously taken over the "so called wise mare" A dark chuckle vibrated her lungs as she waltzed over to the pair, her eyes flickering from the stallion to Honey. Her lips were pursed, and her movement fluid. The foals were being baby sat, while the little tramp wandered around. The stallion, was pretty much the exact replica of Donovan. For a second, Revair thought it was him, but that was subsided when she approached the two, her head relativly high. For a while, she remained mute, didn't spill or signify any ounce of royalty. She gave a threatining look to Honey, a menacing gaze before she swiftly looked to the stallion. Hopefully Honey would keep her litlte mouth shut, long enough for her to wrap this stallion around her hoof.

[£€G@©Ÿ]

The stallion parts his kissers, about to answer the mare's question, when he hears a dark chuckle and turns. In front of him is another mare, her head held high. He wonders if this is the s.lut that Honey Flower so hates. He glances sideways at her, question in his eye. He waits her a nod of a shake of the head. In the meantime, he answers her question, ignoring the silent mare beside him. I'm glad to see you think that way about Lights. Neutrals. I am not bothered by them as long as they don't get in my way. Yes, I do wonder how they can be stuck in between a hoof and the ground. The Neutrals would be nice though, if came a war. We could force them to side with us... The stag's voice trails off as he contemplates his new idea. He shrugs. Not a bad idea. But, Integrated. They're just there. I mean, they have Lights, Darks and Neutrals. All in one place! HIs voice is sly, even on the exclamation. Finally, he glances toward the mute mare beside him and asks, none to politely, And what might your calling be, mare? He flicks his tail, glancing at Honey Flower from time to time.

Words: 263
Muse: great
Mood: N/A
Notes: Yeah, it's fine. This is the JOker's Queen? This will be interesting.

[Pie]

The wind lashed at Revair's caotic mane as it wavered about her neck and face. Both eyes stared at the stallion, her lips were pressed into a straight line as she stared him down. Then, her eyes went soft, the dark brown edges were now a softer tan colour as the Dark Queen smiled. Oh, but no air of authority was show in her smile, for today untill Honey yelled out who she was, Revair was going to play a sweet little dark mare, who didn't even know Joker. Her lips quivered with the movement of her speech, her words were soft like velvet and smooth as they gently waved through the air to the stallions ears. "Whats your favourite name?" Her words were like a sweet melody as she began to waver the bait.

One foreleg extended as she traced a circle on the ground, her gaze set upon her hoof. Then, she slapped it against the hot, cracked and boiled earth and plastered her gaze onto the stallion. "You... could call me Sugar? Or perhaps you have another name for a mare?" Revair grinned so wide that it flashed her blood stained teeth. Never once did Revair look at Honey, untill she flashed her broard grin at her. It was a dangerous grin, hiding the little secerets and plans. Yet, she played it cool, and moved closer to the stallion, reaching her muzzle out to brush against his...

[£€G@©Ÿ]

Sugar? Well, vix. What brings you here? Zetsumi isn't being overly polite to the new mare. He senses something fishy about her and he glances once again at Honey Flower. He wonders if it the dark queen, Revair. He watches her now, glancing every now and then at Honey Flower, waiting for her reply. He flicks his tail as he tries to strike up a conversation again. Well, fem, what think you of lights? You see, my... companion and I have been conversing on the matter of how stupid and worthless lights are.

Words: 132
Muse: not a lot, for some reason
Mood: sly
Notes: shall we wait for Tik?