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Post by .x.~Jazz~.x. on Feb 26, 2006 10:42:43 GMT -5
ooc:// I'm afraid I may god-mode slightly too...the problem with playing Darq.
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'e cursed, for he had not expected the femme to retaliate. He let his pistons go of her sides, swinging back into a full rear to the mare's right. 'Er daggers sliced his side, but no blood came out, and the skin did not rip - his defences were higher than that of a normal equine.
Lightening struck once more, and this time he was rearing, his heavy daggers flying directly above the mare's spine. He was enfuriated, and now pure evil dawned over his features. He no longer cared for the mare's life.
"For that, ye shalt pay."
He said threateningly, and willed the lightning to strike once more. This time, there was a crash and a bolt of electric light sliced into the ground like a dart into a dartboard inches from the mare's pallet. Mud and dried earth span through the air, and even the Darq Lord could not help but blink as the fiery lightning bolt erupted in the mare's face.
He chose this moment, to thunder his hooves down, returning from the air, but no to ground. His daggers smashed into the mare's spine, and it was with satisfaction that he felt warm blood tickling 'is zephyrs. Darqness relented suddenly, and not even the trees could be seen - and then, 'pon the bloodied body of his victim, Appetite For Destruction lowered his malicious form. Tool was lashed from his body, and now he dug his ivories into the mare's hide, as he entered her hole, finally.
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Post by `Avvy on Feb 26, 2006 13:04:51 GMT -5
As he did all of this magnificent display, the anger was replaced with pure hate, the kind of hate that would follow her to her grave. Yes, she hated him, hated him with a deadly passion that if she was not careful could easily overtake 'er thinkbox. When ebonite stag crashed down 'pon 'er life bones, she flinched, but no scream echoed through the air to give 'im the satisfaction of knowing 'ed hurt her, for indeed 'er anger was too great to feel pain. Turing 'er nape back to stare at 'im, she began to laugh, a wicked, malicious laugh that showed no respect whatsoever, and indeed you could see that she held no place 'in 'er pumper for one who had mistreated 'er so.
*Appetite.... you are a small, small man, aren't you??*
Maw formed a cruel smirk, as she tightened 'er muscles to give it a tighter fit. Straining forwards, she almost disconnected them, and suddenly smashed back into 'im, tool crumpling 'tween 'er powerful muscles. She too would not give, and on they went, no pain shown in 'er orbs, and she knew soon he would tire... one could only go for so long. Hissing vocals erupted forth, peircing the air in the most spiteful ways.
*You Minuteman.....*
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Post by `Avvy on Feb 26, 2006 13:06:49 GMT -5
lol about the god-modeling.. i know how you feel its so hard to show how powerful something is when you go, he kicked out his dagers aiming for her head, and then the other person goes, she dodges him easily, laughing at his feeble attempts to injur her... its like, HEY!!! NO FAIR!!!! lol
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Post by .x.~Jazz~.x. on Feb 27, 2006 13:37:03 GMT -5
ooc:// yeah..tricky! But in the end, it is easier to just post what you want to happen, and it is hard to avoid it. heh. Anyway, I don't want to make this too graphic...So I'm finishing this in 1 post.  ic:// [glow=black,9,900]
Thunder rumbled over the pair's dreamboxes, but still the stallion pumped into the mare's prize. He felt power inside her, his tool flinching and jogging inside her, but she had not crushed the orgasms that already were making their journey into her womb.
No answer was given at first to her muted teasings - just a harsh, cold laugh, and then a reply.
"I am not sure if you are fit to be a darq after all, Harsh Awakening."
He paused as another seed escaped his tool.
"For a start, even your teasings are juvenile."
He laughed, for he knew now that it had been another dent to the mare's pride. She had made the mistake of losing her cool, and showing her weakness to him. Now he would not stop until it was crumpled altogether.
Silence was still for a few more moments, until finally the stag decided that 'twas enough. He hopped off, his tool aching, but then again it had been his first breed of the season, and altogether brutal.
Now he opened his kissers again, this time in words that were tinted with softness.
"Ye may bear thy foal now. Return to me when 'tis done. Or I shall force ye here."
He was, in other words, giving the mare a break from his harsh treatment. She would have time to bear 'is brythem, and then 'twould be time still to return, for even the Darq Stallion was curious to what his son or daughter would be made of.
And now he backed, not shyly but defiantly, into the shadows - and although the pitter-patter of rain was signed with his dying hoofbeats, 'e was still watching, watching...but from a place far, far on.
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Post by `Avvy on Feb 27, 2006 17:30:34 GMT -5
She bristled at 'is derogatory speech, but wisely said nothing. Hurt? Nay, the mare had been hurt too much in 'er life to feel pain. Baring ivories at 'im, she glared, knowing she would have to obey... it was her duty now,. and though she did not like her line of work she refused to fail. Moving away to the foaling grounds, 'er thinker mulled over what had happened 'tween them..... he had softened....
OOC: i posted some thnigs in the town
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