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Mature  god is gonna have to kill me twice {sariel}
Knight

Aggressor
 Adult, 8 yrs  Stallion
 16.3 hh  1200 lbs
38 Posts 120 points
 BailanduSilueta Online!
Posted on Jan 10 2018, 9:18 PM. (Edited: Jan 10 2018, 9:19 PM by tantibus.)
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#1

set with liquid time placing the thread’s happenings a few weeks after tantibus’ contact with la flaca and shakaya
 

The darkness of his mind was growing all encompassing and, in fact, quite aggressive. It was beginning to cloud all possibility of rational thoughts: the needle of his moral compass was pointing quite firmly south.
 
It is unclear what exactly has caused such a violent decline in the stallion’s morals, but evidently it has been supplemented by the numerous emotionless one-night stands in his recent past. Utterly distraught by the loss of his wife and daughter, it may be safe to say the man has been truly overcome by his demons. Yet, there is nothing to say that he has reached the peak of his darkness.
 
Of recent, the nightmare stag’s thoughts have been progressing toward those even darker than simply sleeping with unsuspecting women. Well, some of the women were unsuspecting – not of the sex, exactly, but of the nature of their meeting. That is to say that they were unaware it was strictly a ‘one-time’ occurrence. Other women were entirely consensual, similar in personality to him and entirely uninterested in anything involving commitment of any sort. Unfortunate, really, that Tantibus was growing bored of such consent. It was easy, too easy, when he knew he was far capable of achieving better. Something deep inside the man was screaming that what he was thinking was wrong. But it was deep, so deep that it would not possibly be heard or acknowledged. It was unlikely that the beast would react even if he had heard the voice, he was too far gone.
 
His body was growing more and more littered with scars and marks – he cleaned the blood off, of course, but the scars were forever marked on his body. He was not a brute, not likely to let his handsome stature fall into disrepair or displeasing appearance. He knew of his good looks well, used them to his advantage, in fact, but now believed that the war-torn nature of his coat added a rugged quality to his existing beauty. The piranha skulls still clattered from the antlers on his blood-stained bone mask, though the intricate patterns painted over the ivory were beginning to fade, and he still wore the rusted bronze armour on both fore legs. His chocolate-hazel eyes were growing darker, however. They were losing the mischievous sparkle he’d possessed for so long, and instead a glint of effortless charm flittered over the dark depths. Not quite so endearing, of course, but the man knew exactly how to use it to his advantage. Everyone knows well the stereotype of the woman who falls for the bad boys.
 
For today, the Sentient Marsh seemed a fitting backdrop for the darkness fogging his head. His cloven hooves sunk into the claggy earth and the end of his tail barely skipped over the grimy water laying on the ground’s surface. Often the stallion’s ‘conquests’ came about by chance – he would merely happen upon a pretty mare and decide to make her his entertainment for an evening. Today was different, though. He was bored, his mind was restless. He was searching for someone and oh, he would know when he found her.
 
He would know.
 
Sariel here we gooo !!


Rogue

Pacifist
 Adult, 5 yrs  Mare
 14.2 hh  850 lbs
4 Posts 55 points
 Randalin Offline
Posted on Jan 17 2018, 11:33 PM. (Edited: Jan 17 2018, 11:34 PM by Sariel.)
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#2

   Sariel
 
There is little greenery during the bitter months of the year, the world painted in hues of gray and white instead of the vibrant rainbow of colors during the warmer months. Though she loves the snow, it pains her to be active while the land is blanketed in these shades; her galaxy covered skin impossible to hide without blooms and brush to blend with. Travel from one territory to the next is too difficult (she is too fearful of being caught) and she is forced to remain in a familiar section of Elysium where she knows several spaces large enough to shelter in with emergency back doors. Never again. She will not be trapped and chained a second time. The memories of the castle which held her prisoner and the faces of two monstrous royals dance before her eyes and her steps falter. Her breathing becomes raspy and shallow, the sound barely audible as it becomes harder to catch her even a speck of air. 

Calm down. She can hear the whispered words from the deity who protected her after her escape, they echo in her ears as though he is next to her, helping guide her through the terror. 

She inhales sharply as her lungs loosen and expand. 

Adunit. Her mind murmurs the name and her heart twinges in response. She misses the god fiercely, his brooding face and fearsome powers truly a sight to behold. Never before did she feel so protected as when she explored the forest he called home with him and Arihari at her side. To be in this place, utterly alone, leaves her skin crawling as though eyes peer at her from every shadowy place. Unease skitters down the length of her spine and Sariel rounds the corner to see a figure mere yards away. Subconsciously she stops breathing, alarm filling her at his size and the overall sense of foreboding that arises any time she meets someone new blocking her from any thought beyond 'get away, run!'. 

Small feet carefully slide back a handful of steps, shaky legs betraying her tenuous grip on panicked emotions. When a fifth yard's length stands between them, she turns and begins to walk quickly away intent on not drawing attention to herself. Quietly she flares out swirled wings, wincing when the right recoils against her side in acute pain; an injury acquired on her way to Elysium made more achy by the chilled air. Please not now. Sariel mentally begs and forces the wing to expand before leaping into the air. The air current catches her and she flies in blissful relief, a tiny smile playing on violet features. A cry flees silk lips as her injured wing rebels and she descends back to earth having only flown twenty feet away from the stranger. She crashes into a snow bank and simply stays there for a moment struggling to fill starving lungs. Move, you have to move. Detaching herself from the cold powder she eagerly resumes her fast walk in any direction that does not lead to the man behind her. 



"Speech." | Thoughts.
 
OOCtantibus My poor girl XD 


Knight

Aggressor
 Adult, 8 yrs  Stallion
 16.3 hh  1200 lbs
38 Posts 120 points
 BailanduSilueta Online!
Posted on Jan 20 2018, 5:03 PM. (Edited: Jan 20 2018, 5:03 PM by tantibus.)
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#3

For once, his thoughts did not wander but were fixated on one thing. It is a surprise the entirety of his body had not turned black, for it is certain that that is what had happened to his mind. The man’s steps over the marshland were laborious and lazy, his head tilted down as he watched the ripples in the thin stretch of water follow the points of his cloven hooves. While his neck was stooped, and his legs were pacing, his ears were pricked and listening so intently that they were shuddering with tension. And they were listening only for one thing.
 
His most recent conquest had not been too long ago, but the beast was getting bored. Bored of keeping his cruel impulses in check. Who was to say he wasn’t allowed to act on them? Perhaps his Queen would have something to say regarding the nature of his actions as of late, but such was not likely if he ensured she never found out. Thus far his conquests had all been consenting, and while they had still likely not been of a respectable nature, he was technically doing nothing wrong in participating in such things. Now, his mind wandered to wonder what sense of power he could gain from ignoring the idea of consent entirely. It was a despicable thing, and deep down he knew that, but the act would be worth it given the feeling he would acquire afterwards, he knew it.
 
The beast had momentarily lifted his head to inhale a lungful of the murky marshland air when the slightest of sounds caught his attention. It mightn’t have been anything of interest but he couldn’t let any possible victims get away so easily. Tantibus wheeled around on his hind legs, muggy water spraying a fine mist about his hocks, and set his pace in the direction back where he had come from. He caught a brief flash of a wispy purple tail disappearing around a corner and hurled his body into action, lurching into an aggressive canter and sparing no expenses at the risk of losing the girl. He followed her tail around the corner with a sharp skid just to watch a pair of starlit wings snap out and throw her into the sky.
 
”Shit!” he mutters, watching with a distinctly angered expression as the purple mare swirls upwards with the wind.
 
But then she drops. A dastardly smile crawls slowly over his contorted features as his black orbs now follow girl until she falls unceremoniously into a bank of snow only a short distance away from his vantage point. He told himself he would know when she came, and he did.
 
She was a pretty, small thing. Both pretty small and pretty, I suppose. The most startling purple painted the entirety of her fragile body – wings, hair and all, and she was scattered with the most faintly shimmering stars. A quaint necklace was hung about her neck, and a silver shackle clasped to her left hind leg. Evidently this girl had stories to tell, though the way she had so blatantly attempted to flee from the stallion suggested the stories might involve damage and tragedy. Not that he should care. In fact, her personal trauma might even make the rest of this ordeal a whole lot more fun.
 
Damn! While he was busy admiring the fragility of her appearance, the mare had hauled herself up and was beginning to make a run… or, fast walk… for it. He resumes his own travel, picking up a trot and quickly closing the distance between himself and the girl. In barely any time he has arrived just behind her left shoulder, his eyes glinting furiously as he watches over her pretty body with a hungry glare. Throwing more emphasis on the right side of his gait, Tantibus pitches himself in front of his new chosen companion and attempts to block her escape by standing at a right angle in front of her. He looks down on the mare as the smile on his maw continues to stretch wider and sneers, ”Trying to run away, were we? Why, you didn't even give me a chance, little lady.” 

Sariel he's scaring me :c


Rogue

Pacifist
 Adult, 5 yrs  Mare
 14.2 hh  850 lbs
4 Posts 55 points
 Randalin Offline
Posted on Jan 29 2018, 12:59 AM.
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#4

   Sariel
 
A muttered word pierces her intense focus on escape, the obscenity sending a spike of fresh adrenaline coursing through her blood and a wave of fear to match leaks from her pores. The horned beast seems to grow in size, a product of her terrified imagination, and she moves into a swift jog. She imagines a great terror chasing her down; its fetid breath swirling around her neck like a noose while unholy sounds pour from his gaping maw attempting to swallow her whole. A creature straight from one of her constant nightmares. She does not doubt that he can scent her fear; all predators in her belief possess the skill and she quickly attempts to dampen the anxiety whipping at her insides.


She knows he cannot be as large as her mind has conjured him into being, but the horror remains regardless. Her attempts to subdue the feelings fail miserably and she can hear the pounding of hooves behind her coming closer; her instinct is to take to the skies but she knows now her wing will not hold long enough to escape him. Instead, she tucks them close to her body to aid her ground aerodynamics, her smaller legs no match for his greater strides. Sariel dares not peek over her shoulder but after this day she would swear the very air around her grew warmer as his form came ever closer; the evil heat radiating from his skin.

The sensation reminds her of a past she longs to forever erase from her brain. The first time she was presented to the king of a kingdom whose names never leave her lips. She felt fear deep in her bones, her soul quaking while her heart beat a rhythm so fast she thought it might explode. The way the king and his horrible son looked at her, the lust evident in their eyes, it sickened her greatly but she thought they would stay away aside from demanding visions of her. Knowing so little of the ways of the world she assumed they royal pair would never deign to sully their pampered skin through physical contact with a peasant.

Never before had she been so utterly wrong.

A presence looming next to her left shoulder begins to rouse her from an unfocused state but still she remains mentally lodged in the past while her body continues to flee in the present. Her subconscious registers the feel of greedy eyes skittering across her small form but it is not until he swings to block her path that the past returns to where it belongs. Her violet form crashes into his entirely and because of their size differences she bounces off of him but does not fall. Starry wings flare out painfully to save her balance and again she is tempted to attempt a second lift off but she does not. His words further her anxiety and her ears drop back much like a chastised pet’s do. Her words are quietly released, meant to be firm, but she lacks the ability to lace her voice with steel. ”Let me pass.”

Swirling, pupil-less eyes frantically look anywhere but at his face, afraid of what she will find in them; afraid of the past repeating itself. The silver clasped around her ankle suddenly feels heavier like a flicker of warning that her worst nightmares are indeed about to return. Sariel moves back a few steps on shaky legs before turning, realizing that he does not intend to let her pass, and bolts in the direction they both came from. Adunit! She cries out mentally for the god she calls family to come find her once again. Why am I so weak?



"Speech." | Thoughts.
 
OOCtantibus


Knight

Aggressor
 Adult, 8 yrs  Stallion
 16.3 hh  1200 lbs
38 Posts 120 points
 BailanduSilueta Online!
Posted on Feb 06 2018, 5:50 PM.
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#5

His mind was a horrifying hive of sadistic wonderings and thoughts so cruel they could hardly be considered human. If one was to somehow look inside his head, they would not find the innocent fleshy mass of a brain encased in an off-white house of bone, but rather something black, twisted and covered in a tar-like substance that dripped down to melt over his heart. Something in the man had gone fundamentally wrong and there was no telling how on earth it could be fixed. Apparently, the rest of the world just had to face up to the consequences of his lunacy until a cure came about on its own.

He watched the purple fae with hungry eyes, his stare traveling up and down her petite figure as he struggled to refrain from making a premature move. He was already too far past the point of being able to stop. It was clear there was no consent to be had from the petrified mare but he wouldn't care; there was no way you could make him, not now. His eyes were growing blacker and blacker, soon they would have the appearance of mere shadows or holes. 

His upper lip lifted into a devilish sneer as the girl fails to stop in time at his obstruction. She careers into him, her fragile body crashing into his much larger stature as he stands unmoving. Again, the stallion's heart skips a beat, desperate to try something as the feel of her shuddering skin on his own warm flesh drives him wild with an animal need, an animal desire. No, not yet. There is some small, minuscule, remotely sane segment of his brain that tells him not of how dastardly, how evil his actions are, but rather... tells him how to execute them in a way that is most beneficial to him.

Why waste a precious moment when he could watch the filly cower a little longer? He watches her wings flare greedily - for some reason he was always drawn more to pegasi than mere flightless creatures, for they had something he did not and at least in conquering them as an object of his affection he could lay some claim to their feathered appendages. Her voice breaks out from small velvet lips, a whisper of femininity that is obviously intended to push him away but succeeds in doing quite the opposite. Her frightened words are sugar coated to his quirked ears and he smiles, somehow managing the slightest touch of warmth in the otherwise sincerely fucked up reaction, watching her turn and bolt from him with not a whisper of panic or frustration.

Instead, he merely picks up his hoof that stands closest to her front and positions it in such a way that it would've been difficult not to trip over it. The sadist in him would find it quite amusing should she run into his obstruction. Thinking ahead, though, the stallion propels himself forwards a few feet to gain a head start on the girl, craning his neck round to stop her once more should she have succeeded in getting away from his first attempt. 

"Oh lady, pretty girl, beautiful thing, there's no getting away from me.." he snarled through teeth bared and ready to snap at her nape, intending to draw her back to him and leave her no choice but to stay or shred the skin from the top of her neck. "You have no idea the things I can do to you.." he smirks, rather pleased with the double entendre, "Run away and you'll find out. Or, you could stay, and then you might find out, too. Of course, the latter would work more to your personal pleasure." he would've winked if he intended to be cheesy, but his arrogance was overflowing and his blood was running dangerously hot. The man needed an outlet and it was oh-so-unfortunate that the defenseless mare had run into him now.

Sariel ;_;




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