`walking in shadows [open]

[Zsadist]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] [style=text-align: center] Schatten [/style] [style=font-size: 10px; line-height: 10px; padding: 25px; margin-top: -10px; color: 583B3B;] Darkness. The absence of light. It crawls inside like an infectious parasite. It flows through the veins like a disease. It's a vicious monster that lurks within us all, waiting for the opportune moment to lash out with every ounce of its fury. Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win. Despite how much of a fight is put forth, sometimes there is nothing that can be done to prevail against it. Only echos wait in hiding, the night allowing nothing to be seen. No matter how faint, the sound will be heard for miles. Perhaps more. For when all other senses are impaired, the ability to hear is heightened sevenfold. After time, it will begin to take over, enjoying every taste of the power that it has gained. Once you have succumbed, there is no turning back. It's all you care about. It is all you know. You sit and stare for hours on end, days, months, or even years perhaps, just waiting for nothing. Just the darkness. That is all you will ever find. And as time continues to slowly pass you by, you are afraid to look away, afraid to sleep. For you fear that it will swallow you whole. You fear that you will never open your eyes and be able to see anything ever again. No light of the moon, nor light of a single star in the sky, more or less the millions that exist in the thousands upon thousands of galaxies up there, may break through these branches. During the depths of the Winter, not even the frost can slice its way through the branches most of the time. Though, there will be the rare moment when the slivers of snow manage to sneak their way between the branches to settle into a fine white dust upon the moss and other green-covered floor. This forest, that of the Pahane, the black forest, the forest of death, whichever name that could possibly be deemed worthy to it, has not known the existence of light for many, many centuries. Who knows, perhaps the blackened pines had never even seen the presence of the light to begin with. It is said that the Pahane moves at night, but the darkness makes it just near impossible to tell. Yet here in the Pahane, quite often even the day seems as though it is the night for the canopies are thick and the towering pines grow fairly close in proximity. So close together in fact that it rides on the brim of being completely unnatural. Then, on occasion, during the most spontaneous of moments when it seems as though the golden rays of the sun may breach through the opaque canopies at any moment, a glimpse of a shadow may be seen from the corner of your eye. You look, but not a single thing is to be seen. Or is there? The Pahane is a dangerous place, certainly not one to wander alone, to get lost within its seemingly endless reaches. Overhead, a Forest Raven screeched, shattering the silence as though it were a thin sheet of glass.. Though how peculiar that an unusually large bird for such cramped quarters such as these, its wing span reaching 52 centimeters from feathered tip to feathered tip, be flying throughout the Pahane. It swooped upward, giving a hard thrust of it's wings for some height, and circled back to fly in the direction in which it had come. Silently, the creature folded its ebony wings and dropped the short distance onto a thin branch that jutted out directly below it. It gazed forward, staring at nothing n particular. Unlike the rest of its brethren, this Raven possessed eerie, crimson irises as opposed to the natural snow white ones. It turned to look left, then right, and left again, gaze piercing through the darkness as though it were fully lit beneath the trees. It was as if it were searching for something, yet no one was there. The bird shook its head and looked down, releasing its korr-korr-korr-korr of a cry, holding the last note until the echo drifted off into the distance. It ruffled its feathers and settled again, continuing to stare forward. Swiftly, it hopped sideways a few times, making its way closer to the end of the branch. The strong wood bowed every-so-slightly under the Raven's weight as it now stood motionless, seeming not to breathe. In the near distance, a the snapping of a twig, or rather a large branch echoed. The Pahane fell silent again. A eerie silence that threatened to split the ear drums. Not a single creature, any of the few that existed in the darkness, dared to move. To breathe. Something was out there and that something was not exactly friendly. It shifted and it moved forward at a lumbering pace. The Shadow appeared beneath the Raven, hardly taking any shape within the infinite darkness that it thrived. The only definite source of substance that could be pinned as separate from the darkness were a set of glowing red orbs that floated near seven feet from the Earth's damp crust. They stared forward, gazing into the black world around them. With its appearance came an intense amount of heat that appeared to be radiating from the Beast's body. Quite a contrast from the frigid air of the Winter that coated the Pahane. It breathed slowly, breath rising before its facade in a thick, silvery white transparent mist. The Shadow stood as still and as silent as the Raven, watching, waiting, barely breathing. Yet for what? No one knows. Likely nothing, for that was all the Shadow has known from the time it forced itself into the clutches of the world that it now haunts relentlessly. Nothing had been able to catch its interest since They had stolen the world. It seemed, to the Shadow, as though there is nothing left to live for. Not anymore. A heavy sigh came from the windpipes of The Beast. Part of it was from contentness, and part was from the exact opposite. It turned its glistening crimson pools toward the Raven who returned his gaze with tiny crimson orbs of his own. The bird clicked its beak a few times before looking away. Ears flattening against its poll, the black equine snapped his unusually sharp incisors in the direction of the bird before looking away. Korr-korrr... went the bird as it hopped down along the branch and onto the Beast's scaly half-folded front wing. "Always along for the ride..." the Beast muttered to the bird as it moved forward and settled into its leisurely, lumbering pace. For as large as the Shadow was, it hardly made a sound as it walked though the pines, managing to not brush up against a single thing. As it lurked, all senses fully alert, searching for nothing in particular, it secretly hoped that something would cross its path. For better or for worse. [/style] tagged; none. words; 1190. notes; muse is slow, but there TEMPLATE BY LITTLE BITTY PRETTY ONE @ CAUTION 2.0

['Scape-Monster]

Dark Cabaret

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Enveloping the senses, ensnaring all that approached, a velvet covering that you didn't recognize until it was too late. Inky blackness is all that could be seen, even a few inches in front of the face. Shadows, silky shadows caressing the coat of a darkened mare as her pillars brought her ever carefully forward. Auds pricked above her delicate tiara, the forelock swept to the sides, one falling in front of dark brown orbs, dark enough that they could almost be black in nature. Her ebony hue blended with the darkness around her, the shade that the interlocking web of tree branches provided. Almost, for she was not that pure concoction of evil, or silence. Her bodice carried her lungs, which took slow, deep breaths. Nares flared for the scent of any being it might cross.

All senses have to be alert, heightened, when this vulnerable. It paid to be cautious in this situation, then again, being a slow target was never a good idea. But the mare walked in confidence against all odds. Her dark horn might have had something to do with it, she knew how to handle herself, and her daggers were equally as well at moving her as protecting her. But that digit on her head, yes... that was her pride, and her main offender. But that wasn't her only tool, though her other bag of tricks could not be used where the trees were so tight. She needed water to work her magic, and there was no trace of the liquid this far into the forest.

The mare kept her windows forward, peripheral vision aware of her sides. Pillars shifted carefully so that she did not tip her girth on unforeseen unevenness in ground. Her daggers minded themselves well, crackling against dead undergrowth as they saw fit. One might have called her insane to wander the likes of the Pahane alone, but in honesty, she enjoyed the quiet that the place seemed to give off. No one would bother her here, for many feared the very mention of the place, much less would they follow her into it. The silence... It didn't bother her, as others had said it would. Silence enough to drive a Horse into exile. Psh. Her banner twitched across her rump, brushing against a tree trunk. She knew that she was lucky that she hadn't run into something yet, but the mare was also aware part of that was because she somehow found it comforting to be among the dark.

Perhaps it was the way she was at heart that allowed her to be in such a place with no fear; or little, if there was any. She kept as quiet as possible, trying not to disturb what creatures might have been roaming about. She was adventurous, this vixen, but she wasn't entirely without her good senses. Sneaking up upon one of the beings that dwelled within the trees here could very well be the last thing she ever did on this soil. An unusual caution for her was well rewarded, as she narrowly missed a tree suddenly sprouting from the darkness. She snorted with surprise, but soon gained her head and continued onwards, Her orbs ever watching. It was in her watchful state that she heard the first sign that she was not alone. The distinctive call of the Raven drifted to her auds, and she stopped, poised. And so she waited for it to die down. And she stood there in the darkness, orbs straining to acknowledge her surroundings as she waited for it to call out again. But instead she heard the snap of a branch, and She tensed. Perhaps it was nothing, and she gained her wits, knowing full well that the sound could come from nothing other than an equine or worse. She waited for the call of the Raven again, taking calming breaths so that her bodice stayed with a rhythmic motion. Once it did, she attempted to pin-point the location.

It would be unwise of her to step off her predestined path that she had made, but that call made her curious. It was her curiosity that would be her demise one day, and it made no exception to her current situation. She carefully turned to face where she believed the sounds were originating, and made her way carefully through the trees. She had no idea how long she would move through the tight collection of foliage, but she was in no hurry to be anywhere, and the idea of finding out what dwelled in these parts excited her. And so the Mare drew onwards. Her horn tapped against one of the tree trunks and she took a careful step back.

Slowly, she let the tip of the horn run along the size of the wood until she could feel no pressure and hear no light scratching. The mare turned her body to face the new direction that had open space, and slowly made her way forwards. She snorted, mentally berating herself for not paying as much attention. Such foolish an action could very well get her killed the next time. And so her daggers took her forwards, biting into the flesh of the earth, and her pillars moved her through the maze. Her banner gently stirred back and forth, almost touching the trees on either side of her. She did so to be aware of her space; the mare was glad that she was not claustrophobic or afraid of the dark. Such a place should have been menacing and malevolent to her, and yet it bore no such feeling to the Mare.

Perhaps the forest was just saving its worse for later, when she was truly relaxed and at ease. Or perhaps this is the place she had wanted to be all along; a place of quiet comfort away from the world. Yet the Mare knew that, beyond her odd tendencies, she enjoyed company now and again, even if it was not up to her standards. And her mind turned to that snap she heard earlier and it resounded in memory through her cranium. She wondered vaguely if she would happen upon the creature that made such a sound. Part of her wanted to, for the idea of becoming acquainted, for how ever long or short the time may be, with one of the creatures her intrigued her. This thought, among many others, kept her moving slowly, but steadily forwards, the dark a soothing nature rather than a foreboding one.


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Word Count:: 1, 087
Muse:: Pretty Good

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[Zsadist]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] [style=text-align: center] Schatten [/style] [style=font-size: 10px; line-height: 10px; padding: 25px; margin-top: -10px; color: 583B3B;] Ice cold was the atmosphere. A biting chill-factor to add to the bittersweet silence of the darkness. Just another cold night (or was it day?) to add to the never ending hours of black. An icy gust of wind shifted the tree-tops overhead, scattering needles upon the frosty ground. The breeze that was able to break through the barricade of the pines tossed the evergreen droppings to and fro, lifting them from the Earth and placing them elsewhere, tangling them within the already tangled feathers of the stag that stalked the Pahane. His steamy breath came heavily, though oddly enough, it didn't make a single sound. Nothing but silence, except for the occasional woosh of the wind, surrounded the Beast. His sides heaved as he slowly made his way through the forest. Yet he did so with ease, for he could see better than your average equine due to his unusually enhanced eyesight. When the light was little to none, his glowing crimson pools were able to find there way around as though it were bright as day. Quite a useful trait when walking the Pahane at any hour. A quiet squawk came from the beak of the Raven. An unusually large Raven at that. The stallion tilted his head ever so slightly to meet the sideways gaze of his familiar who was perched on the leathery bone of his front set of wings. The Raven ruffled it's feathers and turned its gaze forward again. Pillars slowing from their already slow motion, one fore slightly raised from the frozen earth, the stag brought himself to a halt. Blood-tinted pools rotated away from the bird as the ebony equid raised his quad-tipped crown. He had been too deep in his own thoughts to notice that he and his familiar were not alone. From his stance in this middle of the Pahane, he could not spot the one that disturbed his thought process. Then he was glad, for his thoughts were not something he was particularly fond of. There were times when he wished he wouldn't think at all. The past was a terrible thing to draw upon sometimes. Nares flared as the Beast closed his lids. He inhaled deeply, but the air around him was too sharp to hold an aroma, or a stench, of any kind. Pools flicked open once again, though there was a glossy feel about them that was not there before. It was as if the stallion had grown vacant. As if he were not in his own mind. And unbeknownst to others, this was completely true. 'Go!' the stag hissed, his breath rising before him in a thick white fog. The Raven clicked its beak and lifted itself into the air, carrying the stallion's spirit with it. As it flew, gliding effortlessly through the trees. It twisted side to side, up and down, avoiding all trunks and branches that posed a threat to his flight. It's glowing gaze, the same bloody red color of it's partner, flicked from side to side. It went along silently, searching for the presence that it had sensed only moments before. Sharing the same enhanced sight as the Beast, it was able to spot the being that interested him. It blinked and found a branch nearby the mystery equid to settle upon, wings only making the slightest whisper as they folded along the bird's sleek cage. A good ways away, still waiting, watching from his immobile position, the behemoth brute blinked again. His orbs regained their wicked gleam as he whispered, "Good, Nero." The Raven, though the equid could not see, bobbed his head as if it were in agreement. This stag shook his shapely poll, curled, tangled tresses flipping about like black fire. And despite the fact that these strands were sharp as razor wire, he did not flinch. His pelt had grown used to the constant stings. And his invulnerability saved him from harm. His crest locked firmly back into place as he quit the action, placing his dome where he has previously held it. Having four deadly weapons perched upon the forehead pretty much required the Beast to bear a well-muscled neck. Especially when the longest of the four, the one in the direct center of his forhead, nearly reached four feet in length. Not unusual for the horned creatures, for he had seen quite a few with poles reaching up to six feet long or so. And for some reason, though this particular equine was born with no points atop his crown, four had grown where they should never have. The longest in the center, two of equal length, one above and one below, and a fourth below those three. The same went for his flying mechanisms. One set, the one that sat higher upon his shoulders, he was born with. These were covered with leathery scales, not unlike a dragon. Though massive black feather erupted from beneath. The second set, slightly smaller than the first, were abnormal. These, just like the horns he posessed, were not supposed be present. But for some reason they were. These were unlike his natural pair though. They were covered in plumage and velvety to the touch. Like an undercoat almost, and the hard shell of the uppers protected them. Still, a Beast with four horns and two sets of wings? An odd sight indeed. With a flick of his banner, the stallion shuffled his wings, folding the under layer neatly upon his inky carcas, and the upper neatly upon that. Satisfied, he locked onto his Bond with Nero and began his slow, yet steady walk to reunite with his familiar. Something was there. And it interested him. It had gotten to be quite boring in the forest. Just Nero and himself. His Raven wasn't much of a talker and they shared pretty much the same thought process due to their tight Link. It often annoyed him, but he simply shrugged it off. Somehow, even though he was sumbersed in his thoughts again, he managed not to get any of his points caught in a branch above him or a log. Or have his wings scraped up against one. Suddenly he halted. The Bond had grown extremely tight, meaning Nero was not far away. The stag turn his gaze upward to a branch just ahead of him. Nero's gaze was locked on his. The Raven ruffled his wings and turned to look ahead. Audits rotating toward the hind, the Beast followed Nero's gaze to settle upon a shadowy figure not too far off at all. His lips twitched into something that semi-resembled a smirk. 'Interesting...' he thought as he stepped after the creature, keeping a few lengths back. Nero, sharing the stag's interest, followed closely behind. [/style] tagged; dark cabaret. words; 1150. notes; muse is slow, but picking up TEMPLATE BY LITTLE BITTY PRETTY ONE @ CAUTION 2.0

['Scape-Monster]

The bitter cold had finally started to reach the Mare, and she knew in her heart of hearts that even here, the winter reached it's icy cold fingers. A slight wind caressed her being, stirring her raven feathers upon her boa, the hairs sliding along her neck and shoulders. Her banner flicked in its movements, still brushing each strong trunk to her sides. It was getting narrower, but not so much so that she, or any other creature, for that matter, could not pass through unharmed. The wind shook the branches around her and needles came crashing to the floor. The figure stood still, letting the last of them fall before moving forwards. She had no desire to be pierced in the darkness, though it was becoming more and more like home to her the farther she progressed.

Perhaps it was just her nature of thinking, but she could already imagine a life here, among the dark and twisted roots, and the inevitably twisted souls that dared to live in such a place. yet hr heart was true, and was not frightened by the prospect of living within distance of such reportedly foul entities. No.. instead, she found a peace. Outcasts, much like her. She would be able to get along, to understand them, at the least. Maybe it was for the way they thought things through, and she could claim the same for her. For what equine of five years thought of death as a highlight in life, much less, a Mare of the youthful age? and if it was in the way that they looked, she could master that for her own inky coat blessed itself upon her moving frame. And if the reason be for having split origins, then by the Gods of All, she could reason with that too! For she was an equine born to a Mare from the Water, and a Horned Stud. No, her birth was not made one of love, but she was born none-the-less.

The horn of the femme helped to guide her forward in her adventure, which had taken a sudden turn for the better. She could not tell night from day, and the mare began to think aloud to herself. Or perhaps it was to the darkness and to those that dwelled deep within. Whatever the case, Her quiet, silky vocals came in a soft song as she began her monologue.

"It is such like the rest of the world here. No one knows the difference between wrong and right, for each side believes to be the one that is correct. Here, one can not tell night from day, and therefore, the forest seems to personify that aspect. Perhaps all creatures dwelling here know the rest of the world, and have come to protect themselves from it. Its a likely place to stay hidden. The Darkness veils the senses, and the stories, and the legends keep others at bay. Yet this does not frighten me, though many would say I am insane for wandering towards this place, and then doubly insane for wanting to wander this far into it. Yet I do not regret my choice, and ever find myself affirming that this sudden whim was one of greatness. Those that dwell, or so the tales go, are twisted and evil. The creatures are to be feared at the thought of, yet I wander among them without hesitation or even a passing thought of fear. No... This darkness sends a chill of comfort through me, though I have no idea why. Perhaps..." Here the mare stopped her careful movements to stand stationary.

She lifted her tiara, the forelock falling from her orbs as she let the windows watch what could have been a budding dawn, a bright noon, a burning dusk, or a starred night. She liked to think that it could have been the latter, as the night always stirred her soul with incredible taste. Her Spiral pole nearly tapped a low branch, almost sending a shower of needles onto her being, and yet luck was with her and no such happening occurred. Her banner was still behind her, and her bodice took breath into her lungs slowly. She blinked her orbs, veiling the liquids with sooted lashes for a moment. Her maw parted as she began her speech once again. "...It is in the fact that I believe that the truth of the world lies inside here. One would not run from truth, they would run from that which is false. This leads me to believe that only those of true heart could live here. Yes... That must be it. all those that fear this place only fear the truth, and fear having their eyes unveiled for the first time in their lives. No, the Pahane is not a place of evil, but it is in fact a place for those of pure nature." The Mare opened her eyes slowly. The darkness was like she still had her veil over them, yet she knew she was seeing in front of her.

The femme tipped her tiara forward again, so the pole faced before her and her orbs followed the line. Yet she felt no need to move her pillars forward. She was content to stay as she was, this stationary beast; if only for a moment. Yet, after what the mare has spoken aloud, it almost became clear that she had no desire to leave this place at the moment. If she ever wanted to leave after her epiphany. Yet she knew in her heart of hearts that she still craved company, if not just friendship among other equines. Yet the Femme also understood that not many thought like her, if there were any that thought like her at all. The chances of the mare finding a romance in the world were damn near none, and she knew it. But at the moment, she was content in the knowledge she had uncovered in the cold blackness.

It brushed against her physical being like velvet, a kiss of sorrow to the touch, this darkness gave her. And still the mare felt not even a single sliver of fear as she stood among the tight tree trunks of the Pahane. This new realization took a hold of her mind like a wrapping of silk, and she knew that she would stay here. The water called to her like a melody, but it was one that could be pushed to the side until she must venture from the darkness to sate the lust for the feel of vibrant liquid over her skin. The Mare knew that this place had more secrets to reveal, and more meaning hidden within, and she was determined to find them out in time. But for the moment, she inhaled deeply of the frosty air, the scent of needles assailing her nares.


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Word Count: 1, 146
Muse: Its good at the moment.
Notes: This is getting me excited. ^.^

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[Zsadist]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] [style=text-align: center] Schatten [/style] [style=font-size: 10px; line-height: 10px; padding: 25px; margin-top: -10px; color: 583B3B;] Another frozen gust of wind shot through the Pahane, whipping through the prickly canopies and rushing around the trunks that held them upright. Curled tresses of the Beast were tousled, getting tossed in the wind. Deep scores were made in the trunks of trees as he slowly passed them, ebony strands lashing out at them. Nothing was safe from his razor-like strands of so-called hair in this weather. Not even the frost-bitten pines were safe from their sharp wrath. Wherever he walked, it looked as though a battle had taken placed. A battle between large felines. Ones with lethal claws, lashing out at one another. Though their claws had missed their and instead landed among the trees for they could not see their opponent. Crimson colored pools floated above the ground, seeming to belong to nothing in the darkness of the Pahane. Though that was obviously quite the contrary. And quite an odd sight to set ones own eyes upon. Two floating red orbs. Perfectly round. Often occupied by a smaller set, drifting along somewhere nearby. They only seemed to hover because of the fact that the shadows they were attached to blended just so with everything that was around them. The only thing that hinted that something was there were those eerie sets of emotionless eyes. Silent was the world. Mostly, anyways. Only the frequent gusts of wind that shifted the Pahane made the forest sigh heavily. The Beast that stalked them, even considering his behemoth stature, made not a single sound. Not even a whisper. His dinner plate-sized daggers seemed to float across the ground as he went along, following his current target with minute interest. Nero on the other hand, was quite a bit more interested. A few good flaps of his wings and he was ahead of his familiar. He flitted ahead and settled upon a branch, turning his head back to wait for his lumbering friend. When the Stag finally caught up to him, Nero leaped from his perch and repeated the process. Fly ahead, land, wait. Fly ahead, land, wait. And repeat. Over and over. The Beast closed his eyes for a split second, taking only a single step forward. His nares widened as his velveteen kissers twitched, a sort-of smirk like gesture. If an equine were to even be able to do that in the first place. Facade falling flat again, he opened his crimson pools. His eyes adjusted and the world around him grew bright again. The trunks next to him were perfectly clear and off in the distance, the trees grew darker and darker until they blurred and blended together into the darkness. Besides Nero, their visitor and himself, there was nothing else living within eyesight. He was sure that not even worthless little beetles and other grubs lived in the forest floor. Not during the winter at least, the Pahane would be far too cold for their fragile bodies. He pinned his ears for a second. "Pathetic, worthless creatures." He scoffed inside his head. He wasn't particularly fond of anyone he found to be 'weak'. And after he had been alive for so long, most everyone was weak in his eyes. But for whatever reason, it wasn't his fault that they always passed as he lived on to see another century. Time was something that was definitely on his side. Yet in the Pahane, day could not be told from night. It was as though time did not exist. And that was what he loved about the landscape. That was why he claimed the land as his territory. "Mine." He whispered ever-so-softly. That's all it was and he protected it with his life. He had no one to share it with. Not since her, but that was many, many years ago. Yet after all of this time, the aroma of her ivory pelt was still fresh in his mind. Fresh as though she were still standing by his side at this very moment. If he closed his eyes, he could still see her there. His ears lifted from his poll. The thought of her sent a rush of warmth through his carcass. It was a different warmth however, not the natural heat of his Etna. Either way, he controlled them both for the most part. He could release the full fury of his Etna and melt the frost around him if he wanted to. If he closed his eyes and thought of her, that other heat wave would cross his frame. Sometimes both, or one or the other, happened without his intention though. And sometimes, others got hurt. The Stag shook the thought away and turn his attention back to the fore. But no, not this time. He'd keep his abnormalities in check. At least for now. After all, she seemed innocent enough. But in his countless years of living, he had come to learn that things are often not what they seem. The thought sent a low, rumbling echo throughout his inner being. The sound resembled something of a laugh, but it was far too deep for that. And then he wondered if he ever could laugh. A silly thought, really. He had never exactly laughed before. He never really had a reason to. But that was besides the point. Ahead, the ebony mare began to speak. She slowly walked forward, blind to the world around here. That much he knew. Most others who had dared to venture this far into the Pahane were those with abnormal eyes, just like him. They could also see through the dark as though it were day. The others would never come this far. More or less survive. But this little mare? He supposed she was different from the rest. That made her either extremely brave, or extremely stupid. One way or the other, he was going to find out which held the most truth. He listened intently as he followed a couple lengths behind the fae, keeping his stride light and slow as to not give away his exact location. He didn't know if she knew he was really there or not, but he was enjoying it anyways. Her words seemed confident. She was so sure of herself. So sure of the place in which she moved within. Another shadow in the dark. He couldn't help but shake his crown at some of her words that he did not exactly agree with. And the she paused, the atmosphere around them falling silent again. He watched as she came to stand still and turn her pool upward, staring at the black blanket above. The blanket that formed his makeshift sky. He, in turn, took this moment to move away. His hooves led him through the darkness, using a few good sized trunks as a barrier between himself and the mare. Nero followed silently, settling upon a branch directly between the two. Then she began to speak once again. And he, again, listened, not making a single note. She liked his home, he realized. He wasn't exactly sure if he liked that idea or not. Sharing his home with another? That had not happened in... He lost count of how many years since he allowed another to rest their soul upon his lands. As she finished her monologue, he raised his head, making sure to avoid getting his plethora of horns caught in the branches above him. He inhaled, then proceeded to release his steep baritones into the new-found silence. "Or perhaps..." he began, pausing for a split second to fully gather his short thoughts, "Those who dwell in this unknown darkness are purposefully hiding themselves from the world. they are hiding from every other existing being. For they are ashamed. Of the world. And of the past." Beside him, Nero ruffled his plumage. It was a simple thought process. It was not a direct accusation. Yet if one were to know the truth that he kept so well hidden, they would know that he was talking about himself specifically. However, he was glad that his words could be taken in many different directions. [/style] tagged; dark cabaret. words; 1377. notes; that sucked, but i'm still excited TEMPLATE BY LITTLE BITTY PRETTY ONE @ CAUTION 2.0

['Scape-Monster]

The mare tilted her head slightly, orbs blinking. Had she been followed this entire time? It was quite possible, and the fact that she might not have been aware of it this entire time made her feel just a slightest bit foolish for it. Yet it didn't bother her nearly as much as it should have, and in that own right, something tugged at her heart. She felt no fear, though, hearing this voice rise from the darkness around her. Most would have bolted for safety, if that even still existed in a place like the Pahane. She wasn't sure any would believe that there was such a safe haven within the walls here. The trees seemed to grow taller the more the femme listened to the voice, a soft silk to her auds, making them perk with every syllable. Finally, the young girl gave a soft nod, a smile coming to her kissers. A light laugh left her bodice, causing it to shake lightly. She seemed happy to have an opposition to her opinion. In truth, she was. She hated the kind of beast that simply agreed with everything. One was put on this soil to live a life, and that involved getting, well... Involved in it. Just coasting on in life wasn't an option; not for this mare, anyways. She was aware that aside from the presence that produced those sounds, they were not alone. Another soul was resting nearby, though if it was on the ground or in the trees, she was finding it hard to tell.

"I never said anything against that, now, did I?" Her voice was playful, light. God gods, there must have been something wrong with her. Perhaps born too cocky, or maybe she really was just a stupid little filly. Whatever the case, it was clear that she was enjoying herself in this instance. She was going to have a conversation, and she was comfortable with that. She turned her crown carefully, barely avoiding some of the low-hanging branches as her pole swept pass. Her dark orbs searched the darkness for the source of her company. Her pools may have adjusted to the darkness, but there was no light for her to catch a distinct shape, not yet at the very least. Yet the idea of a disembodied voice didn't frighten her. If this being had wanted her dead, it would have made sure of that while she had been unaware of their presence. So she was safe. For the moment, at least.

"Perhaps hiding, yes, I could agree with that. Being ashamed, though, I believe you'd have to explain. The past is part of what makes a person, and their land. The past is too important to be ashamed of, or to hate. But I suppose I can understand why some would think like that. I, personally, think the past can simply stay as such, the past. But to be ashamed of it? No one should ever feel ashamed of what has shaped them. Take it, take pride in it. That seems like something better done. However," She took an easy breath, relaxing her stance as her banner flicked back and forth. The soft strands beat against her rump and slipped against the tree trunks. She knew that the trees were more open here, though not by much. "If one wants to hide," she began again, orbs still searching for her talking-partner, "Then they would have chosen a good place. The darkness can hide them, and all their secrets. All the secrets in the world, the past present and future to come. They can hide from themselves, here, too, I suppose. If you hide from the past, that's what you're doing. You are hiding from what made you who you are. You hide from yourself."

That might have been the last thing she ever said to this darkness, yet she didn't feel intimidated. She felt fulfilled. Someone had challenged her, and she had accepted with all willingness. There was at least one soul here that knew something of life, enough of it to... to what? What exactly could she call it? To challenge her would to be conceited. After all, what really did such a girl like herself know? She liked to think that she knew a lot of things, but she knew that her real experience was limited. She had a gift, and she had a twisted past, but that was everything she knew. "Good sir," she said, her vocals even surprising her, "Are you trying to hide from yourself, then?"

White air lifted itself into the silence around her, the mare's breathing perfectly even and content. Perhaps she wasn't stupid at all, and perhaps she really was brave. Maybe it really was a mix of both. She was young, she was foolish, but that foolishness taught her not to fear, and fear she never did, even here, when she could very well face death for a wrong word. Knowing already that she had one presence, and yet another she had yet to point out, it bothered her. She tried to reach out with her senses, the ones that would tell her where this other being was, silently watching the exchange. If it had been on the ground, she was sure that she would have heard it at least at one point. So above her, then, beyond the reaches of her sight or her hearing. That had to be it. Perhaps this other being was just a coincidence, but life had taught her that nothing was ever a coincidence. Everything happened for a reason. So this other presence was either with the one she was speaking with, the male of whatever being could dwell here, Equine or otherwise, or it was working for something else entirely. Yet something told her, spoke to her inside her head, that the one she spoke with would have harmed a creature he thought of as a threat.

So she wasn't a threat, not yet, at least. She wasn't sure if she should feel more comforted by this thought, or feel slightly offended. She settled not to decide on that topic, at least not yet. Only a few words had been exchanged, a full opinion could not be decided on a few stray words about the simple nature of the Pahane and those that inhabited it. Then again, to move so swiftly and silently, unlike her own feminine frame, this creature had to have lived here for many many long years. That, or be a monster of the great imagination of the equines that never dared set foot towards this place. That saddened her a bit, to think that she would be of the few that cold have had a conversation with a being that lurked within the tight-knit trees. The other half was quiet wonder and elation. Not many could say that they had conversed with a living being of the Pahane. Even less could say they had lived through that encounter. However, she was getting ahead of herself. She had no proof that she was going to be getting out of this alive. Even if she did, any others would think that she had simply gone insane. It wouldn't be too far beyond them. After all, the way she acted sometimes made them wonder already. After traveling through the Pahane, that would only confirm their suspicions.

At any rate, there was a conversation to be had, and she pricked her auds, waiting for a response. Her forelock fell before her eyes again, though she dare not try to flick it out of the way with a quick snap of her head. She would stand still, trying to locate the place of the voice the next time it spoke to her. The female's nares flared, hoping to catch a scent, anything in the cold air, her bodice breathing in the scent of needles, and of her own saltish tang.

--------
Word Count: 1,324
Muse: Fairly good now that I'm back into the swing of things
Notes: I felt the need to apologize again for the lateness of this post >.<

[/size]

[Zsadist]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] [style=text-align: center] Schatten [/style] [style=font-size: 10px; line-height: 10px; padding: 25px; margin-top: -10px; color: 583B3B;] The stag's crimson orbs flickered closed. Yet even though they were, he could still see, for his link with Nero provided him with views of the world around him. Now, he knew, that if he were outside of the Pahane where the world was bright and colorful, he would not see the world with as great intensity, but he would see it nonetheless. He remembered when he had first gained Nero as a familiar. He remembered the feeling of harboring another soul, so to speak. The feeling of being linked to another. The feeling that someone was always present, even if no one was there. A part of him wondered what it would be like if that link suddenly vanished, but that was something he didn't like to often think about. Nero, his precious link, his other half, inched along the branch he remained perched upon. The Forest Raven kept his eyes, miniature replica's of his Master's, forward. Unblinking, he watched the mare as she spoke. He watched her as she made the slightest of movements. Because of the shared link, he also shared the abilities that his other possessed. In this darkness, the complete absence of light, he could still manage to see what lie ahead. Finding a suitable spot where he could see without being seen, the Raven halted, using his talons to grasp the tree as another chilled breeze ruffled his plumage. Blinking for a moment, the equine brought his sight back into his own eyes. He always thought it a thrill, to be both in one's own body and not at the same time. To be standing, flying, or fighting, while seeing through the eyes of another as well as your own. He would never get tired of it, that much he knew. With a slight inhale, he called his Darkness to him. He felt the forest shift ever so slightly as the shadows obeyed, coming to caress his pelt. He allowed the Darkness to press itself against him, to comfort him as he listened to the mare's words, her voice unusually calm. Part of it discomforted him, the fact that she seemed to not be stricken with fear, even in the slightest bit. Most feared the Pahane, and then they feared his Darkness more. But no, this one was different. And not just because of the fact that she smelled of the ocean. That sweet, salty tinge that all of the water-lurkers reeked of. No, this was something else. And he couldn't quite put his hoof on it. He sneered as she continued to speak, his upper lip gliding upward along his sharped teeth. Fangs, if you will. They protruded from his mouth, a total of just over four inches long. There were times when he would cut himself if he were not careful. Snapping his jaw shut, he allowed himself to laugh, just ever so slightly. It came out as a rumble, as though thunder had just rolled over the towering pines that surrounded the three of them. The fact that the Pahane liked to echo made the notes, to him, sound more menacing that he meant them to be as they bounced among the trees. He shook his head slightly, causing his waved locks to bounce side-to-side, then took a step to the side. His Darkness followed, clinging to him as though it were afraid to let go, making his movements eerily silent. If he willed it to, it would crush him. He could make the Darkness force so much pressure onto his body that he would be unable to breathe, unable to make a single sound. But he knew that one such as himself could not die in such a fashion. It may feel like Death, but it would not be. At that moment, he chose to push the Darkness away. It went reluctantly, clinging for as long as it could. Once the last bit was free of him, it hovered, it writhed around him, waiting. He shook, pushing the Darkness further from him. He no longer needed the comfort of its touch. It was the touch of another that he truly craved, but it was not something that he had been allowed in Goddess knows how long. The thought tormented him night after night as he prowled the Pahane, the thirst for blood weighing heavy upon him. The pain of loss only ceased once that craving had been filled. He though this mare lucky that he had already been satisfied for the night, or that pitiful fawn could have been her flesh and blood instead. A snort came from the nares of the stag, rushing up before his eyes in a thick cloud of white. "M'lady," he began, his voice soft, yet holding a hint of something harsh. "It is not I who I hide from. I simply hide for the sake of others. I hide for I no longer wish to put others through what I have in the past. No, for now, now that this war has seemingly come to a halt, I do not wish to strike fear into the eyes, hearts, and souls of others. Now, outside of the Risti, outside of the Pahane, outside of my lands, I might as well no longer exist." And that last bit was true. He let it hang in the air for a moment before lowering his head and letting his baritones loose again, "I, for one, will never be proud of the amount of blood I have spilled across these lands." He nearly spat the words out. He could nearly taste the lace of malice in his voice as he spoke. He did not like that fact that the past was what is was. If he could go back in time, he would change nearly everything he had done. If he could have, he would have hidden himself away long before the war had begun. But long ago, his hand was forced upon others. And it made his natural blood thirst far worse than it already was. "But now, there is nothing I can do. Nothing but stalk amongst my Darkness and save others from what I have become." His last words softened as he lifted his crown again and looked away. He turned his eyes upon Nero, his only friend. In that moment he knew. He knew that if he lost this feathered creature, a piece of his would die. He would never be the same again. He knew that he would either become so unstable that he would wish for death, or he would seek to rid of his pain through the demise of others. Much as he had done centuries before... [/style] tagged; dark cabaret. words; 1257. notes; *dies* took a bit to get warmed up, it has been quite a while XD i hope it doesn't suck too bad... that's a 4am post right there! TEMPLATE BY LITTLE BITTY PRETTY ONE @ CAUTION 2.0

['Scape-Monster]

"To save others is a very noble thing, indeed, I would say." It was an automatic response, her pelt shivering as she assumed the sun went down outside of the trees. Even being inside the Pahane for the hours that she had, she was not tired of its comforts. Without the ability to see with her eyes, she was allowed to use her other senses to the fullest of their abilities, to see with the heart, the soul, and the mind. "And," the girl continued, thoroughly enjoying the conversation, "I'll agree. No one wants to be proud of bloodshed. Then do not be proud in the blood you spilt, but rather, be proud in the strength, both mental and emotional, that it took to spill it in the first place. If you have spilled as much as you seem to claim, then it is not without just cause to say you have a strong spirit. Most would have been broken long before they would harm another." She paused for a moment, thinking. She flicked her banner back and forth, perhaps to test what she had already spoken, to see if she would be reprimanded.

"I've tasted blood," she finally said, vocals casual and seemingly out-of-the-blue with the comment. "I can't say I enjoyed it as much as my mother did, and so I understand why you would not want to be proud in it. I'm not proud in it, but I'm not ashamed of it either. I learned something. It taught me all the different kinds of strength there is in this world. Strength to disagree with my mother. Strength to run from everything I've know. Strength to move on, and strength to forgive." The mare shook her head, closing her dark pools. What foolishness she was spouting off this time. But it was the truth, the plain truth about her past, about everything she had ever known. She had run from her gifts, once she had learned how to use them. She knew that this played a role in the reason she preferred the past to be kept as such. Normally, she didn't offer it up without just cause, but this... this situation was different, and she felt like she had to. She wanted to prove that she could relate, though gods knew why she felt like she must prove something to this voice from the darkness.

She shifted, walking in a circle, letting her eyes scan the darkness for any sign of her companion. He voice lifted, gaining a girlish tint, something that one would hear from a yearling. "Come now, can I know your name? Else I might be stuck calling you Sir Shadow Stallion." Her dark kissers pulled up into a smile, her pearls showing white in the dimness. The trees seemed to open up, though she knew that they didn't move at all. She was feeling more comfortable than before, than when she had been walking in solitary darkness. It was always better to share things with a companion, and when they gave her something to look forward to, to fight with, things seemed to get better. Her daggers stopped their movement, her banner taking up the soft tempo, brushing the tree trunks and her rump. "My title is Cabaret. Dark Cabaret. I'm not sure if I shaped the name, or if the name shaped me, but its become part of who I am." She dipped her crown, her pole falling down on open space between two trees. She dropped her left pillar to her knee, making a full bow.

This was most likely a terribly unsafe movement, leaving her defenseless, but she felt as if she could trust this figure she had never seen. Again, she reminded herself, that if he had meant harm, he would have done so when she was not aware. She kept her figure still, her audits the only visible movement. Her nares flared, though they picked up only her scent, the salt masking some of the more delicate fragrances, such as sticky honeysuckle or crisp rose. She liked flowers, and would often roll around in them, trying to place the petals in her mane and tail. She done so before with shells and kelp, but it wasn't quite the same as the soft petals. Perhaps later, at the edge of the Pahane, she would roll in the leaves and needles. The scent of pine had always fascinated her senses, almost to the point that all other thoughts would stop. It was stinging, yet delicate and light. It almost reminded the mare of herself.

The femme's pools moved from one side to the other, trying to look out from behind the strands of her forelock. The longer she stayed here, the easier it was to see past her muzzle. The ground here was slightly softer under her daggers, and that was especially good for her knee. Perhaps there was moss there, or simple ground. She didn't really care about the particulars of her surroundings, something almost said that she would have plenty of time to learn the ways of the Pahane. Whether that would be on several more visits, or with this one, she was unsure. It didn't matter, though. The girl had never planned ahead, and there was no reason to start in on that kind of silliness now. She had come into the Pahane on a whim, and it felt only proper that she would do everything else in here just like that. Whim.

She girl valued free-will and the whim more than anything else. She would die if not allowed to have it. Free-will is what brought her from her mother, free-will is what let her go, Free-will is what made her who she was growing up. Free-will and whim is what brought her to the Pahane, though she had wondered about it for a good many of her years. She had always been told to stay away, but now she was grown. She should be able to make her own choices, and so she did. She came here, and the Pahane, as darks as they had said it was, was still a magical place for the femme. Her audits twitched as she heard something scurrying in the underbrush around here. There was life that did not fear the Pahane, why should she? It was the stories, the stupid stories that kept some at bay. And why not let them be controlled by stories. Stories were meant to entertain and, clearly in the case of this wooded area, to keep some out. Had there been stories about the valley she had grown up in, she was sure that many would have avoided it just the same. She snorted softly. Why did so many people simple go off of stories instead of getting first hand information? Well, she was getting it now. She had yet to decide if she was alright that she wasn't a threat, and so she settled it now.

Cabaret was content not to be seen as a threat. It allowed her to live, and thus, it allowed her to explore this place more thoroughly. It allowed her to have this discussion of life and person with the stallion that his himself among the shadows. The stallion... Why did he do that anyways? It could have been for any number of reasons. Perhaps he simply didn't think that this silly little girl was worth showing himself to. The mare tried not to take that option too close to heart. She had never seen this brute, and already she felt like there might be some sort of connection, some sort of kinship in some way she had yet to pinpoint.

----
Word Count: 1,283
Muse: Fairly good.
Notes: That doesn't suck, darlin`. I love it XD She's been real talkative and excited for me to get this up, so here it is! Hope its to your tastes.

[Zsadist]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] [style=text-align: center] Schatten [/style] [style=font-size: 10px; line-height: 10px; padding: 25px; margin-top: -10px; color: 583B3B;] The stallion huffed. A simple sharp exhale of breath. Noble wasn't exactly a word he would have used to describe his actions. He looked to Nero for a moment, blinking slowly. The Raven knew of the bloodshed. He had be there through it all. Yet the stag wasn't entirely sure how the bird felt about it. In a way, the feathered creature was simply... there. It was almost as if he had no thoughts. All he knew was what was fed to him through his Master's mind, and what he craved. Food, water, shelter, and the like. Enough to keep him alive, while his connection with his Master kept him happy. If it weren't for that, they would surely both be nothing but empty shells wasting away on the Earth. Shaking his head slightly, the stallion only partially agreed. "What you say would lead others to assume that there is something to break in the first place," the stallion said, his voice void of all emotion. It made him sound hollow, as if no one was home. He paused for a moment, then turned his gaze back upon the dark mare. "I never knew my mother." He pondered the thought for a moment. It took him a moment to realize that, in reality, that wasn't the whole truth. No, he did know his mother. He knew the taste of her pure Eyðing flesh. But that was all. He never truly knew her, for she had died during birth. If birth was even the correct word to describe the method in which he entered the world. It was his very first memory. The first time he opened his eyes to the dark cave around him. The first thing he heard was his mother's dying breath. He recalled that unsatisfiable craving for flesh and blood. But he was too young to know what to do. Too young to know that what he had done was the start of his addiction. Only minutes old, he tore into his mother's carcass. It was a simple thing, thanks to the fangs that he possessed. He remembered the pleasure that rocked him from the warmth of the flesh and blood that he swallowed with each bite. It was the site of exactly that that caused his father, at least he assumed it was his father, to recoil and flee at the sight of him, a large white eagle leading the way. He wasn't big on conversation, clearly. Personally, he would rather wander through the Pahane on his own. He would rather spend his time thinking, perusing the depths of his own mind. He would rather hunt down those poor creatures that wandered into his territory. Ever since his very first minutes on the planet, he would spontaneously be struck with that same old craving. It was something that he was compelled to satisfy, for if he waited too long, he often feared that he would begin to feast upon his own flesh. The girl's movement caught his attention, pulling his from his reverie. She moved from her stand-still position, making a circular motion, then continued speaking. He made sure to listen, for zoning out while others were making conversation was utterly rude. And for the most part, rude was something that he was not. Usually. A bow, such a simple movement. But it was enough to cause the Beast's maw to twist into a half smile. A simple movement such as that would always please him, for he was big on respect. In his mind, you got what you earned. If one was kind to him, then he would treat them the same. Unless his own body released it's odd craving upon himself, but that was an entirely different story. His throat hummed with momentary pleasure before he unclenched his jaw to speak. "Rise, my dear Dark Cabaret." He said, lowering his crown in return to her bow. "I am called Schatten, though Sir Shadow Stallion would not be too far off, for that is the likeness of my calling." Truth be told, he was The Shadow. Schatten was just that. He lurked from here to there, always there, but not noticed more often that not. He would follow another being, shrouded by his Darkness. In the blink of an eye, he could disappear just like that. One moment you are gazing upon one of the most fearsome creatures you have most likely ever seen, and the next moment you are staring at nothing but empty space. How he does it is a secret, but Goddess knows that he is always watching. Whether you realize it or not. If you managed to gain the trust of this stag, then you would gain more than a friend. You would gain a protector, and make that for life. Until death do us part, or until that trust is broken. But if that were the case, then said trust-breaker had better run for their life. [/style] tagged; dark cabaret. words; 851. notes; that took me forever and a day better than i expected, though i absolutely loathe how short it is TEMPLATE BY LITTLE BITTY PRETTY ONE @ CAUTION 2.0

['Scape-Monster]

Schatten The mare rolled it over her tongue, tasting it inside her mind as she slowly lifted herself. So she had been accepted, at least somewhat. She was not going to die today, and that was a wonderful thing to think about. Cabaret didn't think that this was going to end badly at all, in fact, for her, the fun was just beginning. Her eyes darted about her, looking again for her speaking companion. It was getting all the easier for her optics to observe things in the dark the longer she spent within the lovely shadows. Apparently, her nickname would have suited him well. Her maw turned up into a soft smile. "I could always call you that instead, if you'd like. I think it has a ring to it."

The girl's banner paced back and forth for a moment before ceasing. It was actually starting to annoy her, the constant movement. Perhaps she had done so just to give herself something to listen to other than her own thoughts. Now that she was engrossed in a conversation, perhaps things would be easier to live with. She could see herself here, not just for the rest of the day, but her life. Maybe not always in the deep shadows of the forest, but she already wanted to call the Pahane 'home'. She knew it was irrational, but she wanted to do it anyways. She wouldn't though, not here, in front of this brute. She had a feeling that this was the one that ruled this area. She wouldn't call it anything unless she was invited to do so.

She gave a smile, her pole shifting in the air as she moved her head about, auds twitching above her crown as she tried to detect where Schatten was in all this darkness. The white cloud of her breath came out in front of her. The chill was really starting to reach deep inside her bones, and now more than ever, she wanted to run through an open field, to gallop and turn and fall and roll in a large pile of flowers. How comforting that would be, to have the stems sticking from her mane and tail, to flick around in the air and to fill her with their sweet scent. It would be warm, and wonderful. But no. It was winter, and all the flowers were dead, gone to an eternal sleep. For a moment, the mare wonders if she will become a part of that eternal slumber if she doesn't make it out of these woods. Something tells her that she will, and she decides to listen to that voice, since its a comfort to her.

The girl's thoughts have stopped turning and racing, now all her efforts put forth into finding her companion, and the other being she knows is hiding in the dark shadows. Her orbs continue to search the darkness in vain. "I don't suppose I could request another simple thing," she asks, her vocals curious, but reserved, and its obvious she's trying to hold herself back. A name is different from sight. A name is powerful, yes, one of the most powerful things in the world, but sight... that is a whole other thing. She was nothing but a filthy hybrid, a keplie and a unicorn mixture into her being. A vixen that could sing to your heart, and could spear it at the same time. She was deadly by most standards, though in the darkness, where one could not see, she was harmless. If she were drawn into the light, for one to see her true nature in all its glory... Yes. Sight was something else entirely. A name meant near to nothing next to sight, especially in the Pahane.

Cabaret, however, had already resolved to never flinching. She had never been afraid of these woods, and there was no reason for it now, sight of her companion or not. Though, the more she thought about it, and the more she awaited the answer, the more she wanted to know exactly what her companion looked like. Schatten... she rolled the name over her tongue again, trying it out to her silent vocals, though not actually calling the noun out. She would wait for a later time to use the real thing. It tasted dark, sinister and sweet at the same time. Almost like a velvet flower, one that was dark, mysterious, yet wondrous and beautiful. A poisonous flower, probably. She could tell by the way that he hid himself, there was something that she was not meant to see, at least not yet. Shadow Stallion, indeed. She had chosen her nick-name well.

The mare hoped that one day she could hide in the shadows in this way. She wanted to become enveloped, to be that pure and rich colour that seemed to always accompany the ones that walked in Shadow. She drifted between the shadows and the light. She could not live without the latter, but she longed to take in more of the former. A strange dilema, indeed. To have one the way she wanted, she would have to give up the other entirely, completely. She didn't want to do that. In fact, she was far from wanting to do that. She wanted nothing more than to simply have both in a perfect balance. But one would have to give, and for the moment, she wasn't quite sure which one she would rather have.

On one had, she could have all the comforts and greatness that the darkness provided. On the other, the light allowed things to flourish, to bring her the flowers that filled her nares with their sweet scent each spring, and the ones that braided themselves into her tresses each summer. Which one would she rather give for the other? Which one?

----
Word Count: 973, added a bit to it, so it should be a bit better now ^.^
Muse: Forced, but I might be getting there
Notes: Now she's on her guard, but no less playful... he can have as much fun with her as he wants, short of turning her into a meat pie ^.^

[Zsadist]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] [style=text-align: center] Schatten [/style] [style=font-size: 10px; line-height: 10px; padding: 25px; margin-top: -10px; color: 583B3B;] Schatten, as serious as he tended to be, couldn't help but twitch his maw in a sort of smirk. A hum rumbled deep within his chest. His 'laughs' never quite rising to the surface. It had been awhile since he has truly laughed. In reality, he couldn't remember the last time that had happened. He didn't exactly either, but that was besides the point. This rumbling that his chords now produced would be the closest that he would ever get. It was more of a hum of amusement or pleasure, rather than an actual outward laugh. In response, Nero ruffled his feathers and produced his version of the laugh. Just a simple Korr-korr! Low and sharp, the notes just hanging in the air, almost like an echo of the sounds coming from The Beast himself. And as soon as his vibrating hum cut off, so did the ringing of the Raven's notes. He shook his chiseled crown, the slight smirk still resting upon his velveteen kissers. His wavy tresses bounced side to side with the movement, the motion moving more of his forelock and his muscled crest than his mane or anything else. The motion halted as he tightened his muscles, the hardness of them becoming rock solid. He curved his poll again, positioning his neck in the graceful arch that it originally sat it. His posture caused his thick forelock to fall before his stony facade, creating a black veil over his pupil-less crimson orbs. With a click of his fangs, he opened his jaws to speak. "Very clever, my dear, very clever. However, I greatly prefer that you call me by my true name." He paused for a moment, grinding his teeth, just about literally chewing on his own words before adding, "At least, I would prefer if you did so while you stand in my presence. Or I in yours, whichever way you would like to view the situation." Truth of the matter was, he didn't exactly care which way she viewed it. After all, he had in fact invaded her space. He was the one that had discovered her wandering in his forest. In his Darkness. His precious Darkness. It was as much a part of him as he was a part of it. If he didn't have the Darkness, he wasn't entirely sure what he would do with himself. And the same went for Nero. If his link disappeared... The hum came out as more of a growl this time. A deep ferocious noise that ripped through the silence as a gust of frozen wind rushed through the Pahane, taking the brunt of the noise with it. The Beast stomped a forelimb, dead leaves and pine needles crunching under his dinner plate-sized daggers. The frost that had clung to his great amount of feather fluttered to the ground, not making a single sound. His forelock hung loosely around his face, though some strands tangled in clumps around his set of four horns. His mane and tail whipped around him in the swift gust of wind, producing minuscule red lines here and there. The lines didn't bleed, that much he knew, but that didn't mean that the miniature lashes didn't sting. Just because death couldn't claim him didn't mean that he didn't still feel pain. Either physically or mentally. Though he would much rather face physical pain than have to rebuild his walls again. Schatten sighed and took a step to the side. Standing still for so long in the frozen Darkness of the Pahane was beginning to bite at his very soul. He closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment as his body heated the space around him. It was moments like these that he loved his Etna ability. Even during the dead of winter, he could still keep himself warm. He took the sudden onset of heat as a sign to stretch his wings as best as he could is such cramped quarters. The frost rolled off of the leathery upper set as he shifted them out of the way, stretching them upward, stopping right before they reached into the lower portions of the trees around him. The joints of the wings' skeleton protested for a split second, then relaxed, allowing him to finish. He then fluffed out his inner set of wings. The feathers made a soft rustling noise as he stretched them alongside the leather-wrapped bones. If he were able to stretch them to their full extent, they would reach nearly twenty feet. Maybe more? But that was impossible with the trees having grown so close together. He folded them down again, being careful not to scrape them against the trunks of the pines. He folded the inner set first, fluffing the feathers so they sat in a poofy bundle along his barrel. The leather set came next, folding down over the feathers to create a shell. The heat remained locked against his body as he settled his wings into place. Bobbing his head slightly, he shifted his weight from side to side before widening his stance every so slightly, making himself more comfortable for the duration of the conversation. Cabaret's question floated across his auds as he finished, the uncertainty showing in her voice. "I don't suppose you could?" he retorted, not entirely sure he wanted to know what the question was, so he added, "But that would depend on the question in itself." He nodded, causing the locks tangled in his horns to fall free. He wasn't sure why he did it, for the Darkness seemed to be getting darker, but it was just something that he automatically responded with. Peering out from behind those fallen tresses, he focused his sight on the mare before him and waited for her question. Though he didn't exactly look forward to whatever it was. [/style] tagged; dark cabaret. words; 1003. notes; i was also listening to Sleeping With Sirens the entire time, it helped to keep my muse flowing, even if it was only at a small trickle TEMPLATE BY LITTLE BITTY PRETTY ONE @ CAUTION 2.0

['Scape-Monster]

Cabaret seemed to be holding her breath the entire time that she waited for an answer, listening to the forest heave and sigh. She loved the sound of the trees, getting more and more used to it with every moment that she spent in the trees. She wished that she could see better, that her sight within the Pahane would grow. Perhaps in time she would be able to see everything that she needed to see in the forest, perhaps even more if she worked hard enough. It was black as night here, and there was nothing she could do to change that, but she might try and find a way to be able to see through it. she hoped that one day she would be able to do just that. To be able to see the day from the night while inside of the Pahane. That was quite the challenge, she knew. Her mother, bless her heart, would be proud.

Cabaret didn't like her mother, but she respected her She had brought her the key to life, had told her how it was to live life like a Full Keplie. She had loved her when no one else would. Her mother had been cruel when she had wanted to be, though. Oh, how cruel she could be. She had forced her daughter to watch her slaughter many a purebred stallion. Especially unicorns. Oh how her mother had loved to play with the unicorns. Especially in the summer, she had loved to toy with them in the summer, the young and stupid ones. The rash ones. After a while, Cabaret had gotten the impression that her mother was preying on the kind of stallion that had mated with her to produce Cabaret herself. That was a grand thought, seeking out others like her father to exact her revenge. When she was young, Cabaret had been trained in how to kill so that she could one day exact that revenge. Her mother had once told her that because she had a horn, she could also walk on land. She didn't have to stay in the water forever. She could go out and find her father and make his life miserable. That was the same day that Cabaret had tasted blood for the first time. It was also the first time that she had dared dispute her mother. For once, she finally thought that the mare that she had looked up to her whole life might be wrong. Cabaret couldn't kill the brute that gave her half of her life. She simply couldn't, especially if he was happy where he was.

Her mother had disagreed, though Cabaret took one special saying with her. 'You see with the eyes, and you know all things. To know a name means nothing if you do not know the face that goes with it. A name is powerful, but a face holds just as much say. know the name, know the face, especially if it is your enemy.' She would take that saying to her grave, the mare was entirely sure of it. her mother had been right on a very few things, and this was thankfully one of those few things. It brought the girl back to her question, the one that she had ever intention of asking, even if it might be entirely futile.

"I was wondering, Dear Schatten, if I might see your face. I know that you can see mine, I'm fairly sure, anyways. I know that it can be a lot to ask. Believe me, I know. Its your choice to leave me in the dark, and I have no qualms staying there. Its just a simple courtesy. I could promise all the things in the world that I wont run, if that be the problem, and if there be other complications, such as the reputation to upkeep, I swear I would never tell a soul that I have ever seen anything. I would never force you to do something that you wouldn't want. Believe that if you can believe in nothing else that I say here today. A name is powerful, I'm sure that much you know, but a name coupled with a face has all the power in the world. That I'm sure you know as well." Well... she would wait and see what would happen. She half expected there to be the sound of anger, of the beast coming to kill her. And perhaps she had stepped over that boundary by asking.

The femme tipped her dial, letting her horn drop a little lower as her crest arched, mane falling across her boa in a silken movement. Her banner started to flick back and forth across her rump again, waiting for the answer that would surely be coming. Now it was out of her hooves. Fate was in this stranger's hands, and now it was up to him to decide if she live or die for her words. Or perhaps she was being just a bit too dramatic. What if she didn't have to die for that which she had asked. Unlikely, but she might as well be optimistic if these were to be her last few moments. She was playing a deadly game, and if the jig was up, she could say that she had a nice run. That was always good. Always.

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Word Count: roughly 930
Muse: Pretty good right now
Notes: Sorry it took so long. And have fun with her ^.^

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[Zsadist]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] [style=text-align: center] Schatten [/style] [style=font-size: 10px; line-height: 10px; padding: 25px; margin-top: -10px; color: 583B3B;] Schatten was getting restless. Patience wasn't something that he generally had on his plate. He tried to keep his head, but it didn't always work. He tried to change, but centuries of living and killing in a blind blood lust made the habit hard to break. Of course, he still had fits of rage. There were still moments when he would relapse. His past would come back to haunt him, day and night. In fact, there were still times when he would fall back into those periods of blind rage, and or blind blood lust. When he would forget everything and everyone around him. He would just plunge forward without a single thought. He would take what he wanted, even if that meant taking the life of another. His stomach rumbled at the thought. "No, not now..." He growled, thinking now was not the time. It never was the right time, was it? No. Hadn't he just satisfied his thirst? How much time had passed? It couldn't have been long at all. It had to be the memories stirring the monster within him, and that was something he didn't want at the moment. Closing his eyes, he tried to push his longing for that succulent crimson away from the front of his subconscious. But in its place flooded something that he had wished to never remember again. Her name was Kalani. She was his hope, his salvation. When she was by his side, the rest of the world didn't matter. The world didn't matter. She would put up with him and his fits, and she would be his calm ocean when he world was on fire. She could take him from the lowest of lows to the highest of highs. He had been overwhelmed by a warmth that he had never before felt. She surrounded him with her light, and chased the shadows from even the darkest corners of his very being. Was that what it would have been like to have been loved by a mother? A father? He would never know. He never had either from the time her first opened his eyes and took his first breath. He had killed his own mother, and his father had fled at the sight, never to be heard from or seen again. That was another thing that tended to haunt him, but that was another memory for another time. This time, this horrid time, was just like any of the others. Yet it seemed so much worse. Schatten opened his eyes and shook his head, trying to shake the memory loose. It wouldn't budge, and all he could do was ignore the temporary stings that resulted from his whiplash. The feeling was gone, his hardened skin dulling the usual result by the time he stepped away from Cabaret. One, two, three... He lost count after that. Had he stopped? Kept on walking away? He didn't know. He was once again blinded by the nightmare that had happen so many years ago. Probably centuries, if he had actually kept count. But when it came to the war, he liked to tune his mind to another channel. His crimson pools rolled as his gaze darted around. Though he knew he was in the Pahane, his home, his kingdom, the dark forests were not what he saw before him. What laid before him was an image of a body. A limp, crumpled body. It's milky white pelt was stained with red. Patches of fur were missing, the cords of muscle and hard shafts of bone showing in its place. The creature was hardly recognizable, but he knew. Oh, he knew exactly who the poor unfortunate soul was. Somewhere within the vicinity, someone laughed. A maniacal laugh that forced his crying eyes away from the bleeding creature to look around him. Yet no one was there, it was only himself and the body. "Have I done this?" he whispered to himself. He tore his eyes away for another moment. Looking around again, his still found nothing. Somehow it seemed as though he was not alone, but it was clear that he was. Almost. But he felt so sure, there had to be someone there. There just had to be. He could call for help, but he knew it was too late. Why? Why did he always come too late? Unless... The stallion shook his head. "No, I couldn't have..." He clamped his eyes shut. It's just a dream, it had to be a dream. But when he pried them open again, seeing the body of his precious Kalani motionless on the blood-soaked Earth made his life shatter around him. It would have killed him if he wasn't immortal. He would have ended his own life if he wasn't invulnerable. But that just wasn't an option. He stood immobile for what seemed like hours before he could manage a single thought. Lowering his crown, he pressed his ebony muzzle to the blood-stained cheek of his beloved. It ached. Everything. His mind ached as he tried to come up with reasoning. His body ached from the trembling; from the sadness, the anger, the fear, and every other emotion that he couldn't explain. Most of all, his heart ached for what he had lost, and what he would never have again. His audits flickered as rustling in the underbrush caught his attention. Remaining still as stone, he eyed the forest line through a wavy, ebony veil as five equines stepped from the shadows. One red, one golden, one spotted, one ebonite like himself, and one ivory just like his love. Some had wings and daggers upon their brow, some had daggers and scales, and some had a combination of the various races that stalked Argider day and night. Their eyes hardened as they gazed upon the sight; a behemoth black stallion, their King, standing over the frail body of their Queen. "What have you done?" Their voices echoed, one after another, clanging like bells inside the Beast's head. His blood began to boil at their accusations. "No!" he screamed at them, his voice low, like gravel, reverberating against the trees and echoing off into the open skies above them. He raised his head from its lowered position, arching his proud crest as he moved his body to form a barricade between the wandering Hybrids and his Queen. "This isn't what it looks like..."

[/i] He didn't know what else to say. He didn't do this. He couldn't have. Why would he murder his own Queen? Words began to echo around him as the Hybrids spoke, but the words did not register within his mind. All he heard was jumbled sounds that he couldn't make out, until one word caused the volcano to spill over. Murderer! His glowing orbs locked upon the five in front of him, shifting back and forth between each, as they began to back away. "No!" he screamed again, and he went blind as he felt his body lurch forward against his will.

When his vision began to become hazy, he realized that he has stopped moving. Slowly, his vision cleared. Five bodies, limp, lifeless, and covered in metallic pools of crimson were strewn around him. His breath caught for a moment and he stumbled, nearly stepping backwards onto the corpse of his Queen. One carcass had now turned to six, but he knew for a fact that these five were his doing. And for what? All because they had possibly wrongly accused him? Or had they... Were they right? Did he truly murder his Queen? Was he really a murderer? Yes. He was, but that didn't mean that he murdered his beloved. He couldn't believe it, there was no way he could do that to someone he had loved so much. He had loved her with every fiber of his being. He would have traded her life for his if he could. He would have killed to save her. "But what good would that do?" his mind chimed in. She was already dead after all. She was dead. There are no second chances. She was never coming back. Never. There was nothing he could do that would bring her back to him. Even mindlessly murdering the five Hybrids, five equines that had followed him faithfully for many years, wouldn't change the fact that Kalani was also laying lifeless on the ground beside him.

He ripped his gaze away and turned it to the sky. Wavy tresses fell from his stoned facade, allowing him to see the blue sky clearly. On any other day, he might have enjoyed a sight such as this. There wasn't a cloud in sight as he gazed into the azure abyss. The temperature seemed to be just right. It wasn't too hot, nor too cold. It warmed his coat in what would been such a plesant way if it weren't for the current circumstances. The sun shined bright above him, but something was amiss. The surrounding area was dead silent. How perfect. Everything around him seemed to be dead, lifeless. There was no breeze to stir the canopies before him, or brush the bloodstained grasses against his canons. The birds no longer chirped. They no longer flitted from here to there, hopped from branch to branch, all the while singing their happy little songs. The silence was practically screaming inside his head. He couldn't take it anymore. The sight. The lack of sound. The smell. Oh Goddess, the smell. It had hit him just then, as his walls began to crumble around him. It was so overwhelming, overpowering, suffocating. He felt as though his lungs were constricting as the shock of the all that was spread around him set it. Death. So much death. So much blood. "And it's all your fault." chimed a tiny voice in the back of his head.

The Beast's eyes clouded over as he closed his eyes again. A blood-curdling scream ripped from his throat as his fore-hoof rose and struck the ground. The stallion's upper body lurched into a rear, hooves striking out at an invisible foe. Haunch muscles gathering, his spun, sending is forelegs crashing to the ground. The Earth shook as his joints absorbed the impact. Though he could not see, the thin blades of grass that his body touched had begun to decay. His power poured from him, uncontrolled, as his mind broke down. His body raged, lashing out at nothing. Stepping sideways again and again, his shoulder slammed into a thick trunk. And even though a sickening crack echoed around him, the noise did not phase him. Everything around him, everything he touched began to whither away. Not just his Hybrids, that much he already knew, but every blade of grass and every trunk that he touched began to die. After all, he was the Shadow. He was the King of Darkness, and the bringer of death.

Something in the deep, darkest reaches of the stallion's mind screamed, warning him that he had to leave this graveyard. He had to get away, away from the now scarred land. But before what? He didn't know, but he knew he had to leave. It took every ounce of him to pry himself away from the massacre, and his Queen. Breaths falling heavily from his lungs, the stag forced himself to turn and flee. But only a few strides later, his muscles and joints involuntarily locked. He tried to move, but his body wouldn't. His legs remained splayed, bracing as his vision cleared once again. This time, the scene was different. The bright, sunny day was long gone. The massacre no longer lay behind him. In front of him, however, stood a small equine. A fae, with a horn upon her head and the smell of the sea lingering about her. "Cabaret..." something in his mind chimed in, filling in the void, and bringing him back to the present. Somewhere above him in the trees, Nero squaked softly, his "Korr-korr." echoing softly into the distance. He stood motionless for a moment, the deadly tips of his quad-horns crossing her single one. Her sea scent filled his senses as he struggled to control his breathing, nares flared wide. His muscles quivered and a fine coat of sweat drenched his body despite the frigid air that stood around them. His Etna continued to boil his blood, and he could feel the heat rolling off of his body. His mane and forelock clung to his damp coat, beads of sweat rolling down his otherwise smooth-as-silk fur. What had just happened? How much of what had just occurred inside his consciousness actually translated into reality? How much has she seen? Heard? Had he harmed her as well? The thoughts rolled through his head as he began to, once again, grow sickened with himself. Managing to find even the smallest amount of self control, he forced himself to move. He regained control over his limbs at least, forcing himself to move back. He managed three steps before his body stopped responding, still battling against itself. Stay. Run. Stay. Run. His body and his mind were at war, and all he could do was stand there and tremble with his own worst nightmare still lingering in the back of his mind. [/div][/style]

tagged; dark cabaret. words; 2292. notes; disney music makes things so much better; i was having a hard time until i busted that out. but HOLY TITS. i am so fucking amazed right now. my first post over 2k, and i'm like... in awe. i don't know what to do but say, have fun with him!

TEMPLATE BY LITTLE BITTY PRETTY ONE @ CAUTION 2.0

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['Scape-Monster]

Dark Cabaret

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At first there was nothing. The forest was quiet, as if everything had gone still specifically for this moment. She supposed that if she tried to pay attention and tried to strain her audits, she could pick up something, perhaps a soft breeze, or something similar, but for now there was nothing. It wasn't quite tense in the air, but there was something electric, a kind of fire that tingled her skin, made her horn heat and her nares flare. There was some sort of odd chemistry, and she wasn't sure where it was coming from. Perhaps that was just what the Pahane did to an equine. Perhaps it drove them crazy with all sorts of feelings. Perhaps all the old stories and legends were true and there was no myth and it was all reality. Cabaret debated taking a step forward but was completely frozen in her tracks, one pillar half way lifted in the act. Her vision blurred and she caught a small snippet. Something. Blood?

She came back to and set her dagger down carefully, resolving not to move until she was sure that she was rooted in reality. Her vision stayed fixed in front of her, but that did nothing to penetrate the darkness that stood in her way. She hadn't expected it to. And then it happened again. Sudden and jerking. It felt as if she was being pulled out of her body and forced into the cramped space of another. It felt foreign, strange and unreal. One thing was certain, though. She had seen blood. And it was strong. There was a body, too. But before she could properly focus on it, it fuzzed out of existence, yet she did not quite join her own body again. She seemed to float in some sort of hiatus, some mid-world that didn't quite exist, but wasn't unreal, either. She could hear a mixture of things. Accusations and denials. Or where those words trying to convey the truth?

The tone was pain. Complete and utter lost. It throbbed within the very soul. The voice knew that it was true. It had lost some part of themselves, something very dear. She could tell this, she knew. She wasn't quite sure how she knew, but she did. It was as common as breathing air, floating in this place that simply told her things, whispering inside her ears. This voice had lost something dear, something so dear that they had no reason to go on living. Something flashed, and there was more blood, the whole universe was filled with it. It stung her nostrils and laid heavy in her lungs, making her bodice quiver and ache with the effort of simply breathing. This was not at all what she had thought would happen to her, but what, really, had she expected? This certainly didn't seem all that odd. It was almost... natural to be seeing these things, though she wasn't quite sure why.

Then, like an arrow, she felt resentment and fear. Denial. Anger. Something akin to hatred. She felt it all, and it felt like it was going to tear her apart. She was blind to the world, and Cabaret had only her senses to thank for now. She could still feel, she could still hear, but she could not see. No, there was nothing to see. Just a hazy mist, something that was impossible to walk through, no matter how much she tried. She wanted to cry out, to tell this voice that she could help them, that she was here and that things would be alright, that it wasn't their fault, that there was nothing they could do but her voice was powerless. It felt as if all things that were important to her had gone missing. In this black mist she began tossing her tiara, her pole spearing the air around her, catching the darkness but never anything solid. Was she even among the trees anymore? She wasn't sure. Perhaps she never had been.

Suddenly, the mare's vision began to clear. Only slightly at first, but then she could make out a shape. Not far, but close. Another being. Bright red. That was the first thing that caught her optics. Her body was chilled, yet heat rolled off in her direction. Bright red eyes. Unnerving. She wasn't sure what to think at first, but she knew that she should not move, lest she risk hurting this other being, this beast in front of her, or hurting herself. She wasn't going to risk that. She could feel something stirring in herself again, that electricity. Then, there was pain, a sharp and stabbing pain. She was caught off guard and before she knew it, she was crying. And she knew why. She was experiencing the same pain this poor creature before her had endured. She wasn't sure what she had seen, but she suddenly knew that this loss still weighed heavy on their mind. It took her a minute to realize what her optics were staring into. So This was Schatten.

Her nares flared, her pools were searching, but she dared not move an inch in either direction. She could feel heat at a single point in her pole and she knew, even in the darkness, that something was crossing it. The silence was going to kill her. And then, suddenly, there was a sound, a korr, and then the forest seemed to breath again, a soft sigh and a slight breeze that stirred the strands of hair that were her mane, and her scent wafted. The stud's eyes seemed to come to light again, some sort of slow recognition, and then he slowly stepped away. He didn't get far though. Just out of her reach. Still, she didn't dare move. The femme didn't trust herself enough to even attempt it.

She stood there for a long moment, and then finally spoke, her vocals soft and comforting. "I'm sorry." It was really the only thing that she could think of to say, but she knew it was true. She had wanted to badly to call out, to help, and now was her chance, but she couldn't find it in herself to make those statements. She wasn't sure she would be able to keep them if she uttered the words, but her heart so longingly wanted to repeat them. She wanted to be helpful. After seeing the glimpses that she had, how could one not? She wasn't simply going to walk away from the Pahane and forget this had happened, forget that such a tortured soul resided within the darkness. What he needed, what he had captured and lost, was hope. Light. She felt the urge to give that back to him. She wanted to, so desperately. So much so, it drove her to take one small step forward, even if some part of her screamed that it would not be wise to do so.

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Word Count: 1,156
Muse: Fairly good.
Notes: THAT POST WAS AWESOME. I don't feel like mine compares or does it justice -.-[/blockquote][/size]