Lovers Dance When They're Falling In Love// Open

[Heaver]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #cccccc solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] WOULD YOU LET ME LEAD? you could step on my feet. The Words: 424 :( The Tagged: None The Notes kinda crappy.. The world, it seemed like such a simple word. No harm came from saying ‘The world’, none ever died from poking ‘the world’ (if they did it was a cruel twist of humor from God). The world, what we all fight to have some command over to be able to control most of it. Us equine we wanted to rule it, probably the reason behind the large war still raging from day to day. Thankfully Violin had been born into a peaceful society and she followed their example and she will remain that way until she dies... Or convinced that another lifestyle is better, the possibility of that happening is slim to none though. She could feel the ground beneath her give way and there she left her own hoofprint, her own impact on the world. Through the years she had left hundreds of thousands of these small hoofprints, each could tell their own story if one would just sit and listen but that was the problem with equine these days hey were too busy running around trying to kill each other to pay attention to the earth, the place they lived. It might be the fact that she held the power of earth which caused her to defend it more than most. Moving into an easy trot her blue-grey eyes scanned the area hoping to see some type of life, maybe someone would strike up a conversation and hopefully it would be a pleasent one. Her targeted area was soon visable just over the horizon as sweat began to form along her flank and along her roaned neck. It made her whole body appear a half shade darker, even the vines on her legs became an earthier green. Her breath was beginning to become labored, this long journey began to take its toll on her short compacted body, her muscles began to ache starved of oxygen that her rapid breathing could not supply enough of. Flinging her tail back and forth across her haunches attempting to make her mind think of something else besides the distance she still needed to travel till she decided her journey was over. Her trick worked. Here she stood surrounded by tall grass, oh how she felt at home. It took all of her self control to keep her from falling on the ground and rolling like a foal during their first spring. Opening her maw she let a playfull whinny escape her maw as she dug into the ground revealing dark virgin soil, moist and cool. created by ADE! Pb-ified by WILL

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[Dyzzie]

Narration=Thoughts

[/i]=Speech=Others

Was it his fault he was what he was? Perhaps, or perhaps it was his past, his present, and his future that morphed together to make each part of him into the unique beast he was, a beast that was as dark as he was dreamy. Each second passed, and with it the past merged with present, the future became the now, and each step he took reminded him that one's future was never written in stone. With each altered decision, with each cross road met, your future changed a little. He'd been a rough, gruff stallion, before he'd stumbled upon the tiny paint mare, DreamWeaver. Now he had a warm side, that only showed around her. He'd been confused, and broken, until his twin showed him the warmth and love she had for him. He'd been so much, before the small things in life morphed him with ease. His father trying to sacrifice him, however; was something that still effected the black toned stallion aggressively. Memories of those days haunted his dreams at night. Often his sister, Dream, his Neice, or the foal he and Dream had created together took the place of him, over the volcano that he was supposed to be sacrificed in. How he'd managed to escape unscathed, well, it might forever remain a mystery. Whether he wanted to find the answer to the mystery - he didn't know. His past was forever buried under mountains of confusion, what ifs, and nightmares, that still occasionally claimed him for their own play ground. And, as much as he hated to admit it, he didn't know what else to do - but to plow through, head first.

So much of the stallion, his emotionless eyes remained cold and kept others guessing as to what was really in his head. His impassive face avoiding showing any emotional response, unless he could trust you that is. But, if there was one thing, that no one knew until it was to late, he could also play a game of psych, as well. He could become your knight in shining armor with ease, or your most deadly nightmare. So many masks to place over an otherwise emotion-less facade. He was a creature of habit however, from his study of skeletons, to his returning nights to his nightly temptress of illusions, to his desire to speak with his body, rather then words. He was a unique beast, who rarely felt for others. And when you did earn a place with in his mostly cold heart - he'd protect you with his life. He'd do what ever it took to make you happy. Like Whiskey. He'd let her go, to ensure her happiness, and she'd come back to him. And now he had journeyed to this place trying to find one of the closest friends he had. DreamWeaver - the only mare he had ever loved, and one he missed greatly. Blood Ties? He had helped raise her daughter, keeping her close, protecting the one thing that Blood truly cared about. And Firefly. Firefly, well, he never could figure out if anyone could do anything that would displease the unusually bubbly, happy, and giggly mare. Firefly was all smiles, all the time, and the oddest creation on this side of heaven. He didn't even dare try to figure out how Firefly could remain so bright and happy - especially considering she'd lived in Imbros, and the stallion knew what happened to mares in the weaklands if they weren't careful. And yet, here in these new lands, he didn't have any of them with him, not even his precious, beautiful little girl; Harlequin.

He had wandered away from his home, Avalon Gardens, with out meaning to. It wasn't his intention to get so far, nor was it his attention to cross paths with anyone. Especially not some mare in this particular land. The spring air was both warm, and cool. The sun keeping the temperature comfortable, the wind still carrying a last hint of cool from the banished winter. And it was that wind, that brought the whinny to his ears, demanding attention from anyone in the area. However, it was also attention Grim didn't care to give. He didn't care, not really; as he pushed past the foliage of the jungle, the sun gleaming off his black hide, his muscles, powerful and well built, pulling smoothly over the frame of the beast. His large head tucked close to his neck, his eyes hard, his tiny ears flicking back into his mane slightly. Each powerful step thrusted forward was enough to rock the ground - or so you'd assume, as he moved forward on trashcan lid sized hooves. So black. So Dark. And yet he had the white mane and tail, full of messy curls and waves that fell in luscious curtains down his neck, and back side. His white blaze, his stock. . . and his copper eyes. Everything about him was Fairy Tale Handsome - with a dark, villain like twist. But then again - what lady didn't like a good bad boy - and you couldn't get better then this bad boy.

He raised his eyebrow when he finally saw her, the female, watching her as if expecting her to make some sort of indication of noticing him, no other emotion on his face. Not that he would be surprised if she noticed him. He was a mammoth of a creature, so large he demanded attention. And, you could forget that he was striking. Deadly, Gorgeous . . . he drew attention like a moth to the flame. He raised an eyebrow as he approached slowly, prowling forward, and a hint of a dark smile crossed his features before he schooled it into a gentlemanly expression. What an odd creature, she appeared to be playing? In the soil? He moved closer, "Miss?" He commanded, his tone rough from disuse, and naturally husky and deep, as he watched her. Giving her warning of his approach, keeping to the gentlemanly, professional, prince charming hood facade.

He watched her, as he moved towards her, eyes glancing over her in a calculating gaze - not taking in her looks, but rather any oddities that could hint at her powers. The vines on her legs pushed towards earthly ties, at least. "Now, why would such a lovely creature be alone?" He mused, his cold eyes locking onto hers, before he completed the transformation. He grinned at her, and allowed a hint of light to enter his eyes - all false, but she wouldn't know. If she wanted to be adored, loved, given attention, fine, he'd be her prince charming, charm her socks off, get her to come home . . . then she'd learn what a Reaper really was. "Who be you, dove? Why here alone?" He asked, allowing his sentences to lengthen from their normal one word replies, his tone turning more romantic, with a hint of natural kingliness. "Such a lovely lady aught to be surrounded by knights wishing to do her bidding . . ." Come on Grim. Talk. Appear to be a gentleman, imagine she's one of the family. You can do this..

He stepped back, watching her, before he repeated his earlier question, "Perhaps the lovely lady would like the protection of another, to avoid any horrid stallions come across her? We'd hate to have someone hurt such a lovely fae, right?" He said, a hint of a flirtatious smirk on his muzzle, as he tossed his thick white curls back, his eyes one her. "I am Grim Reaper, lovely lady, but please, call me as you see fit." You'll be calling me master soon enough anyways.

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Corrupted ;; complete
Tagged ;; Violin
Words ;; one five three five
Muse ;; ummm
Notes ;; none
Music ;; Scooby Doo: Ghoul School
Credits ;; template and graphics by Dyzz at Divinus Elementum ;; Lyrics by René Francois Regnier

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