[m o n s t e r] how -should- I {F E E L} |JOKER|

[»d.r.e.a.m [ღ]]

D R E A M W E A V E R

Gentle rolling hills covered in a cape of lush green grass swept across the landscape, occasional lines of evergreen pines rising tall and scraping at the sky with arms clothed in layers of needles that fluttered in the slightest breeze. Bright blue sky shone brilliantly down, casting shades of light over the land and adding reflections to things that normally weren't reflective. Clouds like that in cartoons, puffy and large, swelling like they're about to burst yet looking as soft and comfortable as cotton candy swarmed in the atmosphere above. The winds were a comfortable gust, not too hard but just right, the sort that would catch one's locks and toy with them in the air before releasing and letting the silky strands slide back down and through their fingers once more.

Petite hooves danced lithely over the emerald blades, their pink surface skimming gently and lifting once more at such a quick pace it would seem one was flying and never once touching the ground. Muscles rolled smoothly down slim and slender white legs, nostrils flared large enough to show a bit of pink flesh, delicate ears pricked forth and swiveling alertly. Lengthy locks danced on ends, a mixture of whites and browns, dancing with the slender fingers of the wind that teased each strand so freely. Brown splashed over the petite white build, creating smooth spots that blended seamlessly with the pelt. Rounded haunches fell into a cascading tail that dragged the ground a few feet, dirtied at the end from the particles that clung. Neck arched, with a dished Arabic skull poised toward a white chest, muzzle pointed to the hells, two icy blue eyes peering out beneath a rolling white forelock.

The general appearance was, without a doubt, one who would be thought of as a light, but appearances are deceiving. The act of playing the unknown and one who was hiding something was over and long gone, part of my past. A slight snort escaped my muzzle; one thing was for sure, my painted and scarless hide to the liquid grace of my limbs would never change, and I guess I'm okay with that. After all, it's who I am. But the personality, very bitter to those who aren't expecting it. One would seem to think that I was gentle and friendly, the perfect mare to add to a collection, until I let my voice show through. Hey, even my name's misleading. Those who are well trained enough could easily pick up on the dead giveaways of one who was a murderer in her past. Those who could would be able to handle me, those who couldn't...

Let's just say they wouldn't be lucky. One should be well trained in life not to make foolish mistakes, to misjudge, jump without looking, answer without thinking it. Everything has consequences. Everything has chances. To live, you must be willing to take chances, but wise enough to accept consequences and prepare for them. For a light stallion to approach me and attempt at small talk would have consequences not yet known to even myself, it all depends on the situation. A slight smirk tugged at the corners of my plush muzzle, movements ceasing in the middle of a clearing. Yes. Consequences. So, all that seems to be left is to wait and see what it is, and who it is that decides to cross my path, set foot in my life, and ultimately change the course of theirs in the process.

[Halo]

The violet stallion isn’t sure what sort of mood he is in right now, so full of energy and yet sensing a dark and ominous cloud looming in his spirit. Back in his lands he had suddenly felt trapped, held captive by his own reign and he simply had to break from the chains binding him to the earth. He had run and bucked and jumped about as much as he wanted, his whole form held in a high posture to openly declare is rank, his power, his dominance. All will know before they dare cross his path that it is not wise to stand before him. Oh, they are welcome...if they want to die that is. And he laughs inside, pitying the poor fool that thinks himself big enough to challenge him; he has no qualms about squashing anyone in front of him if its in his best interest.

He trots across the meadows surrounding the Lake of Diamonds, sweat glistening on his gorgeous purple pelt and his breath heavy in his lungs but his whole being refusing to give into fatigue. He is not weak, he is not, not, not and he will not let a little bit of sweat and heavy breathing slow him down. Today he feels strong, powerful, and he wants to show the world why he is their superior, why he should be worshipped about all others, above even the guardians. For where are they now, vacationing away from their duties and responsibilities? But he, Joker, is here, and he has not given up despite the things he has had to face. And he will always be here.

With a defying shriek he lifts his muscled Oldenburg form high, his fronts striking out at the open air as if it were an enemy, daggers slicing through it as if he could make it bleed and cry for mercy. His emerald eyes burn fiercely with an unquenchable flame of fury and he tilts his head back to breathe out a stream of literal flame that stretches out tendrils to lick plaintively about for anything it can destroy. He lands heavily with the desire to make the ground shake beneath him, sparks bursting forth from the contact point and his head tossing wildly, mane flailing about like a flag in a storm until his whole form completely still and it lays mussed across his dampened neck.

Joker had caught the scent of a mare nearby, his curiosity roused. He lifts his head high, pulling his shoulders back and taking a stance once again that should define his kingly stature. His large head wheels about, his nares flaring as he searching for the direction the wench should be, the whites of his eyes as his untamed spirit battles against his will. Putting a definite mark on his target, he curls his neck and lifts his pistons, pushing them down with strong force and pushing himself along an unmarked path towards the unknown mare.

This brute is not one to take one’s appearances for granted, has seen many a beast hide its true colors behind their born looks so as to deceive some hapless moron into a trap. But not him. Joker prides himself for the fact that he has not misjudged a character yet...or at least none that he is willing to mention lest the slash wound across his heart should reopen and his soul bleed once more for that wretched bitch; she does not deserve to have him suffer over the loss of her. However, putting that aside, he feels no sort of prejudice against this mare when he sees her, clothed in brilliant snow white, all a dazzle in the sunlight. Her brilliance knows no bounds, her grace heart stopping. Yet, what does he care? He has no room in his heart anymore for whores and their nasty games.

Unafraid, not intimidated in the least by the dark air shrouding her beauty, he jogs straight up to her, past her flanks and around her rump at close quarters to her other side, snorting and bobbing his head almost impatiently as he goes. A low grunt ruptures deep in his chest and he spins towards her front, ears pinned back as he presses his nose right against the mare’s neck, drawing her smell and a little bit of her soul into his nose as his hind stomps moodily behind him. She would make a nice addition to his ‘collection’ back at home, a fine specimen to have on hand.

He doesn’t draw back as he speaks, allowing his hot breath to rustling her mane and brush her skin beneath her jacket of ivory. “Such a fine beauty and she has no keeper? No matter, you would be so wasted on ‘common company’.” His maw creases into a devilish smirk as he reigns his head back to see her face to face. Arabic in lineage, he can see that, with dainty features and delicate structure, but by no means weak. The more he looks at her the better he thinks this idea of coming over was.
~Joker
(OOC: Words: 848. )

[»d.r.e.a.m [ღ]]

D R E A M W E A V E R

A chill seemed to sweep across the land, ruffling my pelt and locks, and in turn, my mind. A scent carried upon it, reeking with misdeeds, dominance and... smoke? That was a new one. A slight snort escaped my muzzle, freeing my lungs from the tainted air, while my dished skull bobbed and tossed high. In turn, my locks bounced and ran wildly through the air. Lastly, my weight shifted upon hindquarters, forelegs lifting into the air. Muscles showed clearly beneath my painted hide, pink hoof slashing through the air in one clean swipe, before I landed once more and my skull resumed its usual headset. My ears flicked slightly, listening to the steady and sure beat of hoof beats across the meadow as their course was directed to me. My presence. My game. I thought it would be a light who would answer my call, one ready to dash to me and fall head over hooves at the sight of me. That's how it usually went, back where I'm from, so what else could I expect but what I'm used to?

What a shock this sahib is to the sight! His body structure was one of a normal stallion who asserted power, sure, but his hide? I couldn't stop myself, I knew I was staring, my icy blue eyes taking in each detail and absorbing it to the maximum until I could see it with my eyes closed. His hide, stained that of a deep amethyst that gleamed much as mine did in the rays of the sun, his locks, the color of the Great Orb above with matching hooves, to the marking on his skull and, as he came up alongside my build I soon discovered, the matching one on his rump. This land seems to have more than I bargained for. That smell, the smoky smell, it emitted itself from his hide... could he control fire? His eyes are what stopped my dead. Such a lovely jade hue, deep and rich, as unusual as my icy blue were, only his captivated me in a way mine never have. Boy, did I feel short next to this stud. I stood a full three hands shorter - that's a foot. Twelve inches. But our individual heights fit our features as well, so I can't complain.

The power that seemed to erupt with every stride the behemoth took, every step that carried him closer to my petite structure. The tremors ran up my ashen limbs, vibrating uncomfortably to the bone, yet I wouldn't shift. I wouldn't show that I'd give in to discomfort and move. That's just a challenge I have with myself, I challenge myself in my head and I refuse to lose. Besides, what would someone think if I shifted my weight just because of vibrations in the Earth? Then I'd really be seen as a weakling. Just to get the message across that this brute wasn't scaring me, my ears flicked back, burying themselves in the tangle-free mass of my mane, sinking into their graves and remaining there. A proud and dignified look crossed my facial features, skull lifting slightly in defiance to what seemed like the dominance he was trying to portray over me. Yeah, I can be stubborn but you grow to love it. My cascading white tail lifted slightly, the stray strands once on the ground no longer touching as much. That was a sign of the dominance I knew I held.

As his body slid up against mine, his purple locks blending into my puce and pallid ones as he passed, I couldn't help but go a little tense and lift my skull and tail higher, pushing my auds back a bit farther in obvious defiance until I felt the muscles straining against my will to do them what they so naturally never did. Even in their position, I could hear perfectly well as he snorted and grunted, until his vocals reached my ears. I snuck a glance at the stag, barely controlling the slight chuckle that vibrated from deep within my chasms as I realized his body stance matched mine. His hot breath against my arched neck only cause my muscles to tense more. I hadn't allowed a stallion to touch me since Spiritspawn, and Spiritspawn's been gone for months. I felt the slight tingle in the crest of my neck as my locks billowed back and forth with his breath, but I didn't resist or back away from his touch. That was another sign of weakness, and I'm not about to give in. Not by a long shot.

His steamy breath increased on my neck, and I just knew sweat would begin to form on my hide in a moments time if he didn't lift his muzzle, and I'm too stubborn to pull away. His voice slit the air like a knife, sinking into my mind and remaining there as I played with the words, tossing them into each corner of my mind to decipher every possible meaning before even thinking about allowing my own response to surge forth. Icy blue eyes turned to follow his every movement, locked on his own jade green and never straying, waiting for one thought to pass their surface and hint to what was going on in the beasts mind. Who's to say I need a keeper? Who's to say I can't handle myself? My voice was painfully sweet, dancing with a melody like an angel's harp. A coy smirk crossed my face, pondering over what was going through his mind. And you're here to offer me something better than "common company," am I right? Just who do you think you are, anyways? The tones turned to a malicious symphony, dripping with venom yet still holding that melodic and angelic heir. Yes, my mother was a light.

[Halo]

Joker’s smirk only proves to grow as she makes her sassy remarks, not at all deterred by her feisty impudence but all the more ‘turned on’ by it. Perhaps it is his like of spirited vixens that has been his downfall lately, a sailor captivated by the song of a siren and too hypnotized to take much note to the aggressive undertone or the dangerous lyrics. Somewhere, deep inside, experience is reminding him that he has fallen into the trap of such devilish sea witches before, caught hook line and sinker and dragged down into the depths of her embrace and nearly brought to a watery grave. And yet there is still something about a brazen attitude and a sharp tongue that makes him heat up inside and turns his stomach to molten liquid.

“Well, well, what a sharp tongue my little viper has! And what equally deadly fangs!” he exclaims, humor laced in his incredulous tone and his brow lifted in expression. His eyes show not many signs of aggravation but more of a hint of ’I think I likey’. And he’s not to afraid to let it be known, for where is the hurt in physical attraction? It isn’t the first time he has allowed the all too common male hormones to lead him on a chase of a pretty tail, has succeeded many times in catching his lady-for-the-night even. And, by golly, he did notice this one’s fetching rump when he made his twirl around her. And the venom dripping from the notes in that melodic voice of hers, damn it still whirls in his head like a party drug sending him up towards a high, long after she closes those pretty lips of hers.

His ears flick back and forth between the want to continue drawing on the bad-boy image and wanting to perk his harks forward to have full awareness. Yeah, he knows he should feign disinterest, as always, and then go in for the kill, but where is the fun in playing the same role every single time he finds he might want to woo a stranger into his arms (if he had arms, but you get the idea). He thinks he might care for a bite out of his flesh, struck by such a poisonous filly, just to feel his pelt brush against hers again, contemplating stepping forward to work on doing just that. It would be well worth it (and even a little kinky).

“Don’t be so swift to assume, Miss Vipress, that a guy should come to you with such a high opinion.” He chuckles, a low masculine rumble in his chest as he blinks slowly, his hooves shifting beneath him with the almost overwhelming urge to step forward, past the boundary that is in advanced drawn between them, and to invade her space by pressing himself against her bodice. “I was merely commenting that it would not due for a commoner to own such a world wonder such as yourself. And then I was going to introduce myself as such...Joker, Dark Lord of the North and ruler of the Highlands of Darkened Frost. And what should I call you? Shall I continue referring you as Vipress, it seems a suitable title.”
~Joker

(OOC: Sorry it is shorter than last time. This was as far as my brain could take me this time. I hope it’s enough to inspire you. 541 words)

[»d.r.e.a.m [ღ]]

D R E A M W E A V E R

A rather mischievous smirk spread across my pink muzzle, my ears flicking forward. I guess this stud was alright. Nope, he wasn't like the others, but he was rather interesting. Much more interesting than those I'd seen on my way in, or those I'd met in other lands. He seemed more than willing to match me in sarcasm and hurtful words, but not as though he resented it as others I'd met had. Oh, they hated my stinging words. He shot them right back with a taunting twist to them. That was fun, and only allowed more fun to build off the block in return. Maybe that's why Spiritspawn left. I used such sharp words, but he never returned them and only showed the up most distaste in them, though he was proud to show me off before a conflict arose. What a great stallion he was, truly remarkable to hide behind his lead mare, even when she's in foal to him. Just goes to show you what he's made of, I guess.

Casually, I watched his every move, following the slightest change in his body. From his flicking ears to the shifting weight, and finally to the look in his eyes, I pieced together what his anticipations were. A mischievous glint crossed my eyes, a coy half smile cursing my lips. Slender white legs carried my petite build a single step forward, then my movement in my legs ceased. I raised my skull, cocking it to the side slightly, as if contemplating what it was I should do. Then, upon a last moments notice, sleek limbs worked into a liquid smooth trot, my locks bouncing on end. My side pressed against his amethyst one, my gait slowed, skull turning slightly to catch his expression. My muzzle parted, dentals clacking toward his hindquarters, before I broke into a gallop, equally smooth and rhythmic, stopping a couple yards away and pivoting on my hinds in dressage procedure. I'd make a damn good show horse, wouldn't I? No, wait... they couldn't get on my back. Well, Joker, why shouldn't I be so quick to assume? That look in your eyes says it all. My voice was tossed into the wind, those same notes answering him as before.

After mulling over his words for a considerable amount of time, I decided it wasn't intended to be an insult. Flicking my lengthy banner casually, I began the slow walk back to the stag, though when I stopped, it was a few feet behind him instead of in front like before. Well then, Dark Lord Joker, I should watch my tone around you, now shouldn't I? I mock cooed at him, smirking. He probably had mares all over him, always so eager for him to woo and they, in turn wanted nothing more than to impress. Although I do like Miss Vipress... No, I actually loved it. I thought it was hilarious. You could call me many things, though my mother called me DreamWeaver at birth, so if it's my name you're asking, that would be it. That was the most indirect answer I could've given and still give out my name, plus it seemed to annoy those who wanted to know my name bad enough, so I used that one, of course.

It figures. He's the Dark Lord. I always fall for those high and mighty studs, but not on purpose. I go after the ones who have a sense of purpose about themselves, the ones who are confident and know where they stand, not to mention well-muscled. Why are there no commoners who fit that description? I'm just a common mare, yet I fit all of that in a mare's sense, right? Do I have the honors of knowing why you're present in this meadow? And glazed with sweat, huffing and puffing like you just did the Olympic jog. But of course, I didn't say that part out loud. Oh, that would be rude, and first impressions are everything, after all. Or perhaps why you're Lady is alright with you frolicking and playing with the likes of me? He can't say he doesn't have a lady. I can smell the scent of them on him, yet unlike most leads with their leadess, there's no dominant one. Oops. I just jumped to conclusions, after all, he is purple. I don't know his life style.

{oOc} tis fine, it's still a decent length after all =] it's when someone posts under 300 words that my posts die

[»d.r.e.a.m [ღ]]

donne

[Halo]

He much enjoys it as their sides press together as she moves by him, bending his neck in a crescent to look back at the splashed fae. And when she moves away at a gallop Joker feels no need to follow her, a hunch telling him that she would return to continue their conversation; afterall, the light in her eyes told him that she was enjoying their bandying of words. True to his judgement, the mare turns back and, in a slow walk that forces him to wait as he refuses to meet her halfway, begins her way back to him while he bides his time where he is patiently. His violet lips curl into a ivory-exposed smirk and he turns his rump around so that he is facing her…”politely”.

“Dreamweaver. That will do nicely, if I feel like being polite,” he says quietly, though not seeming as interested in her name as he is in watching her. He tosses his head to get his forelock out of his eyes so that he can see her without looking through a hazy curtain. He stomps his right fore to rid it of an insect that suddenly bit in to burrow through his flesh and make a meal of his blood, his tail flicking instinctively after that.

He snorts with amusement as she speaks of a Lady. Why do all mares have to assume he has a mare, a power-hungry, life sucking wench eating away at him for days and days, months and months. Because he is great and a powerful king, he supposes. He shakes his head, his mane fluttering and falling unequally on either side of his neck and him not caring either way, not about his mane or her ‘mistake’. “I do not have a Lady, and if I did she would have no say in who I make my associates with.” He pauses and then grins. “Or who I choose to frolick and play with.” Yes, he does not take orders from anyone, not even if that one happens to be his queen.

Joker has decided that he does not need a queen to rule at his side and help him keep order in his kingdom. He is strong enough to do the work of two and does not suffer the pains of loneliness, he’s much more stubborn than that. Besides, that leaves him free to do what he wants whenever (even though he would do that anyway) without her nagging at him or complaining about every step he should take. And then to have to put her back into place all the time would be too much of a waste of time and energy. No, he is quite happy with the way he is living now. Or is he?
~Joker

(OOC: Words: 463

[»d.r.e.a.m [ღ]]

D R E A M W E A V E R

I knew that smirk was spreading on my face. See, he contradicts himself. So you don't have to have a Lady. Why do I have to have a Lord? Sure, mares were thought of less here, but I'm not about to let that mean I'm going to be pushed around, now does it? Nope. Not now, not ever and just because I'm here doesn't mean I'm about to start letting it happen, either. My ears pricked forth, as they usually do when I'm in thought, and somehow I knew that added to the innocence my face portrayed and my eyes betrayed. Aww, you're not going to be nice to me? I'll be nice to you, though. Mock pleading. Haha, that is so totally me. On drugs. But hey, I can be nice... if someone inspires it first. My mind buzzed with all these responses I could make to his reply, smirking devilishly as the thoughts swarmed in. But I was having fun, I wouldn't end it in a devilish way... or would I?

Aww, so you can play with me! Feigned excitment, and I closed the distance between us again. No, I didn't want to frolic to and fro through the meadow. Instead, I stretched my neck out, my breath running over his shoulder in imitation of how his breath had soiled my neck. My muzzle parted, dentals running down his shoulderblade and spine in a grooming motion, small little circles, and ending in a harsh nip. After the nip, I squealed a truely marish squeal to be annoying, and pranced a few steps away. Instead of returning, I simply pranced a few steps more away, to the rim of the sparkling lake that so easily reflected me, gazing at it's surface. I didn't expect him to follow, and he shouldn't expect me to return this time. After all, I'm not his puppy dog or love toy for the evening. My breath created ripples in the liquids surface, though I looked through them, watching what I could see of Joker and the towering trees beyond. Maybe I'm being nosey and I found a unique way to spy, or maybe I just love the water.

[Halo]

Well, she certainly has one thing in common with all the other mares he knows: she likes to put words in his mouth. When did he ever say that she ever had to have a Lord? Is this going back to the start of their conversation, which he though they had cleared up way back then? She is just trying to be difficult, he imagines, playing hard to get (but who can resist him for too long?). He continues to grin, trying to contain the excitement spawned when she closes the distance between them, his skin tingling as her breath rolls over his shoulder, and he has to work hard at not giving in to the shiver that wants to crawl from the place where her nip harshly digs into his flesh. Still, he will not allow her to see him jump and see any sort of weakness.

She prances away from him, towards the water, and this time he knows she will not come back and that he will have to go to her (give and take is the game). But while she goes he can keep an eye on that rather tempting tail of hers, his brow curved upward and his maw curved up on one side, all in an approving expression. Again, he can’t help but to think of how great her character is put together between her looks and personality, containing so many attractive qualities drawing his mind in to her warped reality. Damn, he needs to have her more and more the longer they interact, but he can’t let her see that.

The brute strolls leisurely after her, not wanting to seem too eager or needy, his muscles rippling in a comfortable, untense way beneath his violet coat. He comes up right beside her, but instead of looking straight at her, he feigns disinterest and lowers his head towards the water, his mane stretching as far as the strands can towards the ground like a curtain. His muzzle disturbs the water more than the ripples formed from her breath as he dips it below the surface of the lake, drinking quietly. He lifts his head only slightly, smacking his lips with satisfaction. “Ah…hits the spot.”
~Joker

[»d.r.e.a.m [ღ]]

D R E A M W E A V E R

He followed, but does that mean he's really interested in playing cat and mouse? I can't see why he would be, what does he get out of it? I get the amusement of being the chased, he gets the fun of being the chaser but what good is that to either of us? Well, I do get one thing out of it. I get the enjoyment of company with someone actually worth my time. If he's the first inhabitant I've met here though, I can't help but wonder what the others are like. Blowing softly into the water, I watched as our individual pools of ripples expanded and converged, joining together as they grew to ring out the whole pond before they disappeared, my ears pricked as I intently watched, much like an overly eager foal, except unlike the foal, I was masking my interest in the stag beside me. So Joker, congratulations. You've earned my respect and attention. Are the others in this land like you, or was I just lucky to meet you first? I didn't turn my facial features from the water, just continued to watch it's shimmering surface.

If I was just lucky, I'd have to seriously reconsider what these lands were worth and the creatures who live here. From what I've gathered thus far, the ladies are under their masters reign, and I guess none of them have broken that traditional tie, or if they had, they were banished or killed or something. I don't know. But hey, here I am, right? I could very well become an outcast and love it, considering my kind of mare doesn't seem to be around or there would be some anarchy and the herds would be really messed up. Joker didn't seem to mind me being so bold and dominant, though, perhaps my judgments were off or perhaps he's simply amused to meet the likes of me. I mean, I know I would be if I were him and I met myself. What a laugh that would be, now that I think about it. I'd be purple! Okay, I'll be nice. Purple is an amazing color, and it doesn't look half bad on him.

After the last ripples disappeared, the water was starting to lose my interest. At least until that silver fish caught the light of the sun and his scales turned rainbow, then I had something else to watch, but of course it moved and if you're pretending not to care, you don't want your head moving all over the place like you're trying to find a bendy straw that just happens to be on the other side of the cup. So I had to give up on the fish, before I looked like a complete idiot, but I can recover. I wonder if he'd follow me into the water? If not, I still love it so I'd have my source of a distraction. It's decided. From a standstill, I broke right into a graceful trot, my hoof tapping on the once glistening and flawless surface to break the reflection and send countless ripples up. The spray from the water that had been displaced by my body stained the shoreline, dampening it, and I'm sure he got a little wet there, too, but that's just a guess. Good thing I'm not facing him, because now I can smirk without him knowing.

The rolling fluid was up to the middle of my chest, my lengthy locks floating on the surface, darkened slightly. I didn't want to go in too deep, to the point I'd have to kick off and my hooves would lose contact with land beneath the liquid, because at that point it's just my head above the water and that's not very graceful. I watched the ripples settle and disappear, sinking out of sight and did my best to remain still so as to avoid making more. Of course, I should've known the sun hits you harder if you're in the water, but I was ignorant, and now the water about me was sparkling as it was on the shore, yet I'm in it so it was kind of blinding. Just a little, you know? I can put up with it. Be strong. I had to unsettle the water to spin and face Joker, a grin etched right on my face, and I think there was that normal mischievous glint in my eyes as I studied the brute.

How about a real game now? One with prizes. I had to think of the game, though. Okay, got it. More of a race. Across the meadow, through the pond, and over that fallen tree. You can chose who gets what when they win, since I picked the game after all. Considering he was large, he had longer legs and could probably run fast, don't know about his jumping skills. All I had to rely on was my Arabic heritage, and what does that give me? Endurance. Grand. Maybe I should've picked a different game, but races are fun and I'm not about to back out now. I honestly expect him to say if I win, I get an acorn or something stupid like that, but it would be funny. Shifting my weight slightly, I snuck a glance at my hide, darkened by the water that sunk into the fur and made my hide slick yet slippery. Oh well, it's a sunny day, it'll dry nicely I should think. My ears flicked forward once more, waiting for his response, eagerly I'll admit but I made sure to look bored.

[Halo]

Joker has his head lifted away from the water now, raised above his withers but still at an angle that makes him look slightly relaxed. What reason does he have to be uptight? He’s enjoying this little event of theirs, even if he has himself playing cool. Who would have known that when he left his herdlands for a bit of an escape that he would have this much fun when he got here? Most mares are nowhere as interesting as Dreamweaver, so maybe he should consider himself lucky; if he believed in luck, that is. “Oh, I wouldn’t say there are others ‘like me’, but I suppose there are a few who strive to reach the standards I have.” He smirks because he knows they’ll never be able to join him at his level.

He had been making it a point not to look directly at the painted vixen, gazing about at nothing too intriguing and glancing at her everytime the picture of her comes into his peripherals. His head is turned away when she splashes into the lake, her hooves tosses drops of water all over that glisten in the bright sunlight. Some of what she kicks up splashes up against his chest, throat, and face, creating darker spots on his pelt where the liquid had absorbed right in. Each splatter is cool and refreshing and he really doesn’t mind it at all, though he narrows his eyes slightly for appearances’ sake.

With her back turned, Joker can watch her all that he wants without her knowing it (though he doesn’t realize that she is turned for similar reasons, to smirk all she wants without him seeing). He doesn’t think that he will follow after her this time though, not finding it too much to his liking. It isn’t that he doesn’t like water apart from drinking or that he is afraid of it or getting wet. It’s as simple as he just doesn’t feel like it and so he isn’t going to do it. It won’t accomplish anything, and it doesn’t look to him like she wants to go very far, anyway. Dream doesn’t have any collar and leash on him, he doesn’t have to follow her around like some lovesick puppydog. This thing he has for her couldn’t even be classified as ‘love’.

Dream turns about face towards him and he blinks, trying to look quite ‘innocent’ about having been caught staring. Though why should he care? It’s not like she has been offended by anything he has done so far, and he doesn’t think he would really care if she would be. Joker would have missed that mischevious glint she has in her eyes though, the one he finds so tantalizing. “Hm,” he hums out as he listens to her proposition, turning his head slightly to look at her a different angle. “Do you really think that is wise on your part?”

Before she can think about changing her mind, he consents, “However, the interest such an idea is too tempting to turn down.” His maw splits into a wicked smirk, deviousness behind his eyes and a scheme playing itself in his head. And he doesn’t bother to disguise it because she should know what she had gotten herself into. Joker isn’t the type of stallion who is into any sort of romantic gesturing, such as allowing a mare to win at a game she introduced. If she wins then that’s fine, but should she lose...she deserves all she gets for tempting fate.
~Joker

(OOC: 588 Words)

[»d.r.e.a.m [ღ]]

D R E A M W E A V E R

Of course I knew what I was getting myself into. I don't act without thinking. Okay, maybe occasionally I have, but still, I'm smarter than that. Of course I know the risks, why wouldn't I? I say what's life without a little entertainment on the side. I closed my eyes and raised my dished skull stubbornly, my ears back and muzzle the apex of my body, until I casually lowered it to pass out of the cool water. I made it a point to come on the other side of the pond, the water rolling off me in sheets before slowing into a casual drip that soon died out, though my mane and tail remained thick from saturated water stuck inside the hair and my hide remained damp. I knew for a fact he wasn't going to follow me everywhere I went, and I'd use that to my advantage whenever I could. Like now. See, even the little things can be used to ones advantage, it doesn't have to be huge to matter.

Disappearing into the forest line, my eyes rummaged the forest floor to find a suitable obstacle for the race, after all, I wanted to pick the track. I found one that I rather liked, one end was up to my knees and the other to my chest, which of course meant he'd still be able to to walk over it if he wanted but it would be an impressive and fun jump to challenge myself on. Snorting softly with satisfaction, I came back out of the treeline and up alongside the lake, walking the edge as if I had all the time in the world back to Joker. Alright. We start in the woods and jump over that tall - erm... medium? height log, through the lake and back to the beginning. Are you saying the stakes now, or after? I think after would be more fun, because if it was before and I didn't like them, I'd probably strain myself with the effort to win and the added stress would end up making me lose, and that was unacceptable. But it was his say so, and if I mentioned that out loud, he would probably state the stakes.

Stopping infront of him, I openly scanned his build and getting a good look this time. Who cares if he thought it was rude? What happens next in my sequence of life is basically in his hands, metaphorically of course. Oh yes, he does have a profile to die for, and his personality only flares my interest more. Perhaps, if he'd have me, I wouldn't mind being in a herd with other mares again, instead of the rogue image I was trying to portray. Perhaps is the key word, considering I'm just interested at this point and he has yet to give me an enticing reason to return to herd life. Like... I don't know, if I was interested, and not saying I am, a commoner position would suit me just fine. Oh, I know what that enticing offer is. The freedom to go where ever I wanted whenever I pleased, because restraints on me would just be broken anyways and I don't want to go upsetting someone I could possibly like.

[Halo]

Again, the brute watches the mare go, trotting off into cover of the trees in order to scout out their racetrack, able to hear her steps rustling in the loam and once in awhile the tiny snap of a twig or rotting branch her weight descends upon. He is not at all worried about his will-be prize roaming off and leaving him, knows she’ll be back, because he believes her pride is a lot heftier than some mares. Besides, she has already stated that she knows what she is getting into, seemed even courageous about it (if that’s the word he’s looking for) and had shown no reason why she would change her mind. Fiery boldness and a zeal for a little fun to break up the monotony of plain old life...very nice.

Her figure catches in the corner of his eye, walking leisurely towards him, but he does not humor her with a glance, but instead waits until she is nearer before turning his muzzle in her direction. A smirk lays creased on his maw, like a permanent fixture upon his mug shot. This temptress brings out the worst in him, he feels, and that is not at all too bad, he would add. Enticing in more ways than one, he entertains himself with eyeing her up again, studiously devouring every curve, every muscle line and slight change of hue in her pelt, and especially enjoying the expressions her visage is capable of, those eyes.

Whoops...he’ll miss out in hearing Dream announce the track if he doesn’t pull himself back to the game at hand. His ears flick like a resolution and he fixes his attention upon the mare with semi-hidden interest. She asks about the stakes and he rolls his eyes to the side as if thinking about it. Maybe he could give some thought to them (more likely make them up at the end, too busy concentrating on other matters). “Oh, I think the stakes can step aside for more important matters, don’t you think? Wouldn’t want our concentration to be distracted.” No, it’s best not to think of the prizes waiting at the other end for them.
~Joker

(OOC: I could’ve went further, but I’m trying to save muse.)

[»d.r.e.a.m [ღ]]

D R E A M W E A V E R

It's like he read my mind, answering my question like that. In a way, it's sketchy, but in another, refreshing and perhaps slightly arousing. Alright then, try not to fall too far behind. We were both going into this race with confidence, it seemed, though I had a little self-doubt. After all, endurance doesn't do much for you over a short track, but maybe I had enough Quarter Horse in me to help. Ah, who am I kidding. It doesn't show anywhere in my appearance, so why would it show in my stamina? I had to shake those thoughts out of my head; they wouldn't help me, honestly nothing would except that I'd been walking and stretching my muscles this whole time, but he was running and didn't seem exhausted. Maybe it wasn't the best time to make this challenge, but it would be fun, and I had a reassuring feeling that, no matter what, I would be able to handle the consequences, whether they were good or bad.

Okay, seriously Dream, stop thinking. Start acting. Agreed. Shall we begin? I didn't wait for a verbal answer, instead I listened to the sound of breathing and hooves, before I allowed myself to even contemplate my own movement. It was thus that my coiled muscles released, springing my build forward from a standstill to a gallop right on cue. My ears swiveled to listen to the sounds, though mainly staying back to prevent the wind from entering. Nostrils expanded, taking in enough oxygen to fuel my movement as my gaze strayed toward Joker, wondering just where the beasty boy was. He'd probably passed me, considering I'd waited a considerable amount of time before starting myself. My locks flagged out behind me, I felt them on end as the wind went through them. Before I knew it, the jump was up at me, so I didn't have time to prepare myself. My muscles coiled and released at the last moment, sending me over the higher end of the log, my hoof clipping the top and taking a bit of bark. In a show jumping competition, this would've counted as a fault. Oops.

Back through the other end of the forest, I watched the gaping hole between the trees draw closer and the water's edge creep up on me. Adrenaline kept me going, kept me from seeing or even bothering to pay attention to where Joker was, so his position I don't know and I didn't care, the joy of running was something I'd missed for a long time. Oh, wouldn't this be funny if I always settled unspoken disputes with races? That would probably leave me at the lower hand, so I guess this would be a one time thing, unless it was just for games like this was. Or maybe it wasn't. I don't know. The water surged forth, slowing my pace down, and with my lower height, I had to kick off the sand before him, that was a fact, thus slowing progress even more. Once on the other shore, I stopped and shook the water out of my pelt, my eyes glistening with the recent refreshment I'd gone through, but from my lack of attention, I'd missed who'd won the race and if he'd said anything throughout the race.

[Halo]

Joker may have been running and carrying on awhile ago before he came upon Dream, but he had been alright to continue doing so back then and now has had a considerable amount of time to take a rest. And now, with that short breather, he has found his second wind and is raring to go and get on with this race. Like Dream, he too loves to race, the thrill and exhilaration of competing against another capable equine sends his heart jumping in leaps in his chest, surging his blood through his veins and mixing it with bursts of adrenaline that practically have him dancing in place while he awaits his lady competitor’s word to go. And when she gives it, or close enough, the large violet stag is ready and very willing.

With an uncontainable shriek, he lifts onto his hinds, fronts kicking as if so eager to get a move on that they’d try to run in the air, before bounding forward (a totally Zorro and Tornado moment) and straight into a gallop. He doesn’t bother slowing to look for the mare behind him, in fact she nearly escapes his mind except in being his opponent in this event, a small presence behind him whom he must keep there at all costs and with all speeds.

The new wind he creates tugs violently at his mane, all too eager to whip it about like a banner in a maelstrom, flashing in the sunlight, and his tail streaks behind him in a ribbon of gold. His breath leaves his lungs in pants, he can hear the strong and even thrumming of his hooves upon the solid earth and feel the ripple of his muscles powering him forward. More than once branches and briars rake like claws across his pelt but he cannot comprehend them as his mind falls deeper into the race and the path ahead of him, concentration heralding only for his footing and the control of each muscle and each sinew and bone.

There is nothing else but the race ahead of him, he doesn’t even remember taking the jump over the fallen tree Dream had selected as an obstacle; but he must have crossed it for he does not run into it for the rest of the way out of the trees. And now the lakes spreads itself out before him, opening its arms to embrace him in its refreshing embrace in the duration of the end of the contest. Instead of splashing through the shallows, he leaps from the sandy bank to land in the aqua depths, and for a moment the dark beast disappears, completely submerged beneath the sparkling surface while the violent ripples escape his point of entrance, which had closed over him. But he emerges kicking, snorting water that had invaded his nose and blinking droplets that had forced into his eyes as tears. Only his head above water, he makes long strokes until he feels his steps reach bottom.

Completely soaked on the other side, he trots up onto land, the wet glistening on his pelt, dripping from the strands of his mane and tail and running off his belly like a river. Joker snorts again, still unable to rid himself of the final drops of water aggravating his nares. He does not see Dream and, though the race would seem to be over, he cannot get the rush out of his body and continues to trot in large circles, unable to quit in order to shake the excess water from his sopping bod. This has been the most fun that he has had in a long time and part of him refuses to see it as over. Yet, for now, he must await the arrival of his painted prize, even if albeit unpatiently.

Joker is overjoyed to find that Dreamweaver had not been too far behind him, coming up from the water and shaking herself dry, dryer, and looking about as if searching for him. With his whole frame set in a high posture, tail raised with lingering excitement, and pure life shining in the depths of the stud’s bright green visionaries, the Dark Lord surges towards her in a swift trot, bobbing his head with barely suppressible energy. He circles her, nudging every moment as if to assure himself she had arrived, before he forces himself to stop at her muzzle, a low purr of frustration rumbling in the top of his throat as his ears perch forward as he gazes at Dream with a light twist of his maw going on.

Still, what is it he should say? He has won, that much should be obvious even to her, but words seem so worthless after such a heart-pumping elation. He knows what he wants in reward and as if to wordlessly conclude it he reaches out to claim bit of the vipress’s mane, to lightly tug and then move to the side to press his nose against the damp velvet of her arch. “Vipress,” he states as if in a greeting. He will take her home, yes, that’s what he will do. She will be perfect for his kingdom, for him. Ack! ’No! Not for you, you fool! Have we forgotten that bitch Revair already? Do you not remember!? You’re an idiot if you can let it slip so easily from that rock you call a head. You’re brain is a vessel with a hole in it and you are worthless.’

The sudden awakening of the voice inside his head is somewhat startling and unsettling at the same time and he has to take a step back to shake his head, lowering his skull to rub it on his fore as if to rid himself of an itch or to try to lose the feeling of the voice raking its hurtful words across his brain. ’Shut up...’ A female voice slips in her input, sliding like the slimey coils of a snake to wrap around his mind and constrict in order to make an attempt of smothering him into submission to her. ’Let me handle it, Joker, my dear. It is obvious romance and attraction is not your thing. Why get yourself into a heap of mess when things will go just fine with me leading the way.’

[/color]

’Shut up! Just shut up already! I don’t need any of your help! Stay out of it and I’ll do as I damned well please!’ He snorts and pulls himself from darkness of his head, settling for ignoring the quarreling going on inside, as he moves forward again to resume what he was doing before. He runs his muzzle down her neck to her shoulder where he moves his nose back and forth her withers. “You know what I want for my prize..?” He chuckles quietly, knowing she’ll be thinking something else, something further than what he had in mind. Taking it slow for once doesn’t seem all that bad.
~Joker

(OOC: Sorry for the wait. :-D Hope it was worth it. 1154 words. Basically Joker wants to take her home with him. I think he’s got a sweet spot for her, but he’s just not admitting it to himself. The Red voice is Prank and the Blue voice is Sin. Prank is downright cruel and Sin is more like the lustful one (she switches between she and he, actually, don’t know why). His other voice is Prank...he just likes to play games. You’ll probably see him later on.)[/blockquote]