your skin looks good on me {open

[».d.r.e.a.m. [ღ]]

A MOTHERS LOVE
The lone whistle of a faraway wind passed through the leaves, rushing forward and racing like lightning. Trees shuddered violently, the leaves left on the ground picked up to become people running alongside the bulls. Trampled, stampeded... discarded. The sudden gust blast through the trees, weakened by the trunks but continuing on. Where the trees broke, dust exploded into the clearing. Leaves were tossed to the air, struck by the horns and tossed like rag dolls. Once breaking free of the forest's jail, it calmed down considerably. In that, it's meant that the stallion who stood studying the forest was bombarded by dust and particles, yet soothed by a gentle gust that lifted his locks. The whites of his brown eyes showed, though that was a normal occurrence for the markingless paint. When they didn't show, that's when one should be worried. His sides expanded and contracted quickly with every breath, four legs spread apart and muscles tensed. His bulky head was held high, ears swiveling in all directions. The beast showed fear of the forest as he stood there. The slightest noise would make him jump in fright. Sweat slicked his hide, darkening it in places. That hide was unusual, to say the least. Some parts didn't sweat, instead were stiff and refused to move with his body. As his stomach continued it's hyperactive breathing, beads of blood formed around one such path. This brings me to the description of him, my son, my biggest mistake. Melancholy. To understand his appearance, you must understand his mind, and the opposite is true. Such a handsome boy he would've been, a markingless chestnut crossbreed. His mane and tail matched his hide perfectly, his eyes a stunning chocolate. At the time, I thought him to be my greatest creation, but time would school me in the ways of life. Life is cruel... unfair, unjust. I could go on, but I'll spare you the details. As I imagine you're getting tired of my rant, I'll supply you with Choly's basic background, then he can pick up the story as it's taken my last strength to tell you this, and there's still more to tell. Please don't hate me for bringing him in this world, or him for being how he is. It just isn't his fault, and I loved him too much to take him out of this world.
Melancholy was no one special, just a normal herd mare's product of rape. He was brought into this world with no significance to the lead, the herd members, or the foals. Only me. Choly was the only markingless horse there, and I literally mean markingless. Not even a white hair on him. Because of this, he was an outcast among the foals. He had to play with me. He grew to envy those with markings, dreamed of having them. When he was three, he left me and came back three days later. I was so happy to see him and he actually looked pleased. Then I smelled the stench of blood, and made the discovery that had us banished from the herd. He'd killed a paint filly, the one who actually allowed him to play with her. He'd peeled her hide off and sewed it to himself, only patches. So now, he had overo splashes on a jagged blue roan pelt over his chestnut one to make himself more unique. I was so shocked, but I wouldn't allow the herd to kill him. We snuck off that night... he's only gotten worse and I...

THE SCENIC MIND
Once more, the wind picked up, sweeping with it the last breath of my mother, but I can continue the tale. I wanted more markings, to be truly unique. Before, I was just ordinary. I've accumulated a sock, a black leg, Appaloosa spots, and a blaze. That's not all though. I take hair from other's manes and tails, and tie it in with mine. I think it's perfect. Oh, you probably want to know how my mother died. I took her blaze while she was still alive. Didn't know it'd kill her. I thought it'd just scar over... I'm sorry mom. My voice is nothing compared to the wind as I stand here, staring at the forest that is now my mother's grave. Maybe this is why the herd said I wasn't suited for company... Oh well. I do what's best for me, and I should make it on my own. The forest still scares me though.

THE STORY TELLER
The chestnut with his unusual trinkets saw himself as handsome and normal. The onlookers can't be spoken for, as I can't read their minds. The locks in his mane and tail were all different lengths, some dragged the ground, others merrily foal fuzz. He knew no constraint, only what pleased him in his mind. He thought that was how he was supposed to behave, for he knew no other way. One final puff of breath and the stud turned and limped through the clearing. He always limped, for the sutures tugged and hurt his skin, but he got used to it. Blood trickled down his nose, both his own and his mother's. Stretched around his left foreleg was a stiff blood bay Arabian's hide, while his right hind boasted a much too big palomino Belgian's stocking. Breed didn't matter to him, only color and markings. His haunted brown eyes searched the barren landscape, a sigh exhaled through bloodied nostrils. He didn't know where to go next, where to turn to, or what marking would be his next prize. All he knew now was, for the first time in his life, total and actual loneliness was setting in. This led to mourning, as the patchwork pony lowered his head, drooped his ears, and stared solemnly at the ground. No friends to keep him company, no life to offer him their condolences on the death of his mother. Myself, as the puppet master, feel pity for what he's become, yet even my other toys, my demented creatures, would rather die than share company with Melancholy. So, alone the action figure went onward in that same ridiculous pose. His hide moved unnaturally with him, different length locks breezed back. An aura of depression swarmed the stallion, suffocating those who came near. His breath was ragged and deep, noticeable from a distance and enough to call in carnivorous monsters seeking an easy kill. The stench of rotting flesh was putrid, rabidly clinging to the air with a vengeance.

[teh spooky duck. rar.]

PAN -dorizz

Neon optics peirced the night, glaring around, casting a harsh shadow over everything, the wind picking up as her anger grew. Anger over nothing, really, just anger. Pure rage, full hate that consumes and overwelms, though she wouldn't allow it. She controlled herself. With one swift movement, she turned, teeth glistening, staring into the ice scupture behind her. The replica of the tigress made her grin larger, the trademark of your highness. Mist swirled from the ice mirror, threatening to melt, though it daren't do such a thing. Even the elements had respect for the dominating and hateful mare, though they had great reason. Again, spinning on her heals, the coal black femme looked towards the land below her. Lime green mane and tail whisped in the wind as it leaked into the cave, trying to force coldness onto her skin, but she refused, not allowing anything to overcome her. Slowly, she moved towards the opening, looking over the land better, the wind now nipping at her chin and ears, though they swivveled, listening, hoping for some sort of equine noise, proof someone was coming to get a quest. She just loved watching horses fail.


Sighing to herself, she moved back, her jaw moving slightly as she chewed on her lip, the habit so trademarkish of her. With a swift and mighty woop, she let out a peircing laugh, though she tried to make it sound innocent, she wasn't in the mood, and a haunting silence lingered, even after the shrill scream fainted. A deep roar of a chuckle tickled her throat, and she inhaled deeply. What was wrong with her? Nostrils leaked with snot as she let her cranium drop, huffing outwards, making the cold, untouched dust on the floor of the cave scatter and re-group to other parts of the ground. As if by magic, the scent of blood ripped into my nares, but it was unmistakable. From many different species too, many different animals, though the smell wasn't obvious, it was suttle. The trademark grin again shadowed Pan's facade, making her look rather young and perfect. Oh, she was far from it. Closing the pupil-less optics, she inhaled, cursing her own ryhme, her invisability lulaby. Fading away, the femme took off, her wings barely keeping her up. She was a magestic and beautiful thing, though her flying was riggid and hurt, though if she allowed you to ever see her wings, you might would understand why.

Following the scent, the Goddess' moved towards stallion that her keen eyes showed her too. I'll see him, but he won't see me. Nice. Not even one horse had come to see her in the year she estimated she had been a goddess. Only the tigress that stalked on the ground, but she hardly counted. Her mind was suddenly intruded when the tigress' thoughts interupted. 'Unknown. The british accented tigress' voice sounded the same through the mind as well as the ears. Hissing loudly, much like a snake, the femme dropped, diving towards the spooky stallion, each rustle of the leaves scaring him, making him near just out of his...skin. As if sadness swept over him, his head dropped and he stood, motionless and Pandorizz watched, disgusted, not by the patchwork the horse had accomodated, but he didn't show it off. Angry, she moved faster, still unable to be seen. Lips opened as another scream peirced the dawn, the sun sinked slightly behind the forests high trees, not wanting to be seen by the mare as she decended towards the stallion. She didn't have the ability to read minds, but she was good at reading body language. Her words, much like silence, lingered, leaking through her gritted ivories like a timid animal, though once showed freedom, it was gone. Inhaling angerily, she burst out, flickering in and out of invisability to visability, circling his depressed, forgotten bodice. He was in his shell. 'Its alright, darling, shhh... Her voice was a mere whisper, comforting, and the sun again began to arise. Moving closer, the female touched her black maw whiskers to his withers, and backed away hastily. She had to tease him first.

Her 'shhhs' filled the air, multiplying inadvertantly. Nares quivered, boa flexing as she once more was invisable. 'Ah, yes, i can see him, but he can't see me...indeed, ver nice!...'

- - - -

pan main
pan talk
pan think
rah talk
rah think

_{[ O.o C } can i reply to this, dreamy, with Pan? (: I posted with Pan. I know i might shoulda asked first, but i had to blow some steam, then she got all yummy on him XD
Sorry its not nearly as great as yours. I'm in love with this char, omgeee hes great ♥! anyways, you think maybe she could take him to her cave and like, hold him captive or something? She'll get obsessed.
Oh, and to make the post worse, shes invisable almost the whole time.
Again, sorry for the crappy length and stuff DX}

[Dyzzie]

X. B L O O D . T I E S .X
I gave you blood, blood, gallons of the stuff
I gave you all that you can drink
And it has never been enough
I gave you blood, blood, blood
I’m the kind of human wreckage that you love!

[/size][/center]

A stifled a giggle, and attempted to walk on the tips of my hooves, repeatedly having to catch myself before I went crashing down. Why was I, the most loud, obnoxious person alive, being quiet? I'm SNEAKING AWAY from my darling, over protective, psychotic brother. Ya, He calls me psychotic, and he's the one who acts like 'rawr I'll eat you if you touch her!' Hee hee, Rawr, that is a funny word! I love the word rawr! It is so amusingly amusing! Ha, Amusingly. I just made up a new word. I think. Is amusingly already a word. Well if it wasn't it is now. And if it was, well, I just made it better! Oh ya! I'm aweso-- Blood let out a slight squeal as her hooves fell out from beneath her, and the chestnut leopard appaloosa went down in a flurry of blood splatter markings, and chaotic hooves, landing hard on her back, as she stared up at the sky with an amused smirk on her facade, her hooves poised above her like a puppy on it's back, getting the best belly rub of it's life. She giggled, laughing, as she shook her head. She tilted to her left, before pushing her body with all her might to her right side, attempting to roll into a simpler position, so that she might be able to arise. Arise Blood Ties! I your maker demand you too! Another flurry of giggled left her maw, as she forced herself onto her side, before gathering her hooves under her, pushing herself to her hooves, and let out another torment of giggles. She shook her head slightly, as she looked around, and saw her brother was still curled up next to the tree that they had settled down next to for the 'nap' time. Like I need a nap time, silly brother. I wasn't 'that' hyper. I giggled brightly, as I looked back at my brother. I could see the slight rise of his black chest, his breath moving wisps of long ivory hair. It amazes me sometimes how weird her an I look. I look like his opposite, white body to his black, black hair to his white, tiny to his MASSIVE! Oh! And the best part of me... I. Look. Like. BLOOD! heehee, I really, really, really love Blood. A slight dreamy look was obtained in those deep copper orbs of Blood, as the thought of her name sake, the crimson liquid that was her favorite liquid. The only liquid she thought about so often.

Blood stood still for a moment, the wind rushing through her rich black tresses, as the wove patterns of intrigue against the icy blue sky. She giggled brightly, shaking her head slightly, as she glanced around, her copper orbs glancing around with curiosity. An icy bite was in the wind, and a for a second a shiver warped through her tiny frame, her ivory pelt, with the flickers of crimson splatters upon moved against the wind, attempting to cause a bit of friction, to keep her warmer. But before she could repeat the procedure, the mare was already in gallop. Whether standing still, or in motion, so intense it looks as if she is flying, the tiny vixen was rather beautiful in her own ironic and unique way. Standing at a comfortable 15 hands, not overly tall, but comfortably so, even as she stood much shorter then her brother’s towering height of near 17 hands. Clad in an ivory pelt, with long tresses of rich ebony, her colors were contradictory, and made even more unique, and beautiful by the leopard print of her appaloosa spots. The colors a rich chestnut, borderline sorrel, the unusual trace of patterning of the spots resembling the splatter of blood, mixed with almost ‘blood misting’ hues upon her coat, near her stomach, upon her hip, and upon her chest, her neck, and along her right cheek. Her tresses were coated in the most beautiful of ebony tones. Her tresses held a slight curl to them, reminding her of her Friesian heritage, their weight and bulk of lush waves, reminded one of the gypsy banner blood that circled her veins. Her mane stretched long, reaching to her knees, though at the moment the long veins where being ripped in the wind. Her tail was long, but kept short enough that it didn't drag upon the ground. An odd red sock sat upon her front left hoof, another mark to defy nature, naturally. Her frame was lean, almost delicate in built. And her copper eyes. Her exotic copper eyes, that were as close as plausible to the red color of her beloved blood. She was indeed an odd equine after all. And with her wings held close in, almost blending in with the appaloosa body, one would never be able to tell some of the lineage she cared. Though, the silvery white horn, with the ruby base, was probably… just a little obvious.

In the middle of her run, Blood suddenly stretched out her ivory and blood tinged wings, the feathers, and length stretching out, as she leapt into the air, pounding her wings up and down, up and down, up and down… Hmm, where to go now! I so wanna go somewhere! Oh! What’s that down there! IN that odd little place. My eyes fell upon what appeared to be a lone equine, a stallion no less. But it was his coloring that enlightened me! Chestnut! Like my spots! Chestnut, one of the closest colorations of a coat to blood. I immediately angled down, heading towards where the stallion was standing, before folding my wings up and out slightly, to lower myself gracefully onto the ground, and naturally, the moment my hooves touched the ground… Well I was eager to speak.

”Holy Crap! Look at your coat! It is so awesome! I am so freaking jealous. Though I really shouldn’t be, my coat has chestnut in it too, but yours is ALL chestnut, like you rolled in a bunch of blood! I so so so love it! Though mine is pretty awesome too, the look of blood, and blood splatter, and such! Blood is so pretty! It is why I love my coat so much. My twin brother has such a boring coat though! His coat is black. With a white mane and tail. But still, black. No red, no chestnut. Unless you count the ruby at the base of his horn! I look so much cooler then him! But still! Your coat is amazing! You are so lucky! I want a pure blood bathed coat! But I’ll be happy to settle with mine. Though I could do with out my black mane and tail, it just looks odd, don’t you think! I mean, weird, right! It’s like so cool to see such a pure coat though! I mean really cool. You don’t get to see Blood that often on a coat like that.

“Did you know how awesome Blood is! Everyone should love Blood it is so pretty, and so bright! I once saw sand that looked like blood! It was so cool! So very, very cool. It didn’t taste like blood though! IT was really gross, actually! But still cool. Oh! I forgot! My name is Blood Ties. What is your name? I was named after my coat. My herd also thought I was demon spawn, because of my coloring, but that was before they tried to kill my brother, Grim Reaper. SO what is your name, why where you named it? Hey! You can call me Blood, by the way! Everyone does! I love Blood! So it is so cool that my name is Blood too!”

[/b] Her words had just gone on and on and on, with out her brother there to speak to her, and she bounced in spot for a moment, her eyes bright, before she looked around, ”Are you here alone? I’m never allowed to be on my own! I had to sneak away! It was so awesome! I almost woke my brother up when I did too! But he kept sleeping! I am so ninja! Don’t you think so! Why are you here alone? Don’t you have anyone to talk to? Surely you have someone. Everyone has someone. I have my brother, but he is to protective to let me have any other friends…” Blood paused, then grinned really big like, ”Hey! Do you want to be my secret friend! My brother can’t yell at me about a secret friend! Ha! I finally out smarted him! Take that Grim!” Ya… Blood was only… a little insane…[/color][/size][/blockquote]

There's a place in the dark where the animals go,
You can take off your skin in the cannibal glow
Juliet loves the beat and the lust it commands
Drop the Dagger and lather the blood on your hands, Romeo

Status: Complete
Muse: Okay
Characters: Blood Ties
Genders: Female
Alliances: Captive
For: Dream/Duck
Notes: So adorable. I LOVE MY BABY GIRL! BLOOD IS ADORABLE!
Playlist: Sharpest of lives by My Chemical Romance and Blood by My Chemical Romance

Post: CC3232
Blood's Thoughts: CC1100
Blood's Words: FFFFCC
Other's Words: 27408B striked through and in italics[/i][/color][/font]

[».d.r.e.a.m. [ღ]]

The odd stallion's head flew up, his brown eyes searching for the source of the voice. Screams vibrated through the air, reaching the patchwork equine's ears with some confusion. Is this it? Am I going insane now? Isn't that how it starts, you hear voices in your head, then you generally progress worse, spiraling into a pit of insanity that you can never get out of? At least, that's what I've heard... I don't understand how insanity works, nor how one comes by the disease. I wonder what it would feel like, to be insane, to have the world judge you and never know what they were thinking? Maybe I already know, because I've always been exiled and discarded as a misfit... but I'm not insane... I can't be... While he began contemplating this, the quilted chestnut limped forward a few more steps, his muzzle pressed nearly into the cracks of the Earth as he tried to pick up a scent, any scent. A flash of color managed to earn his attention, as his body stiffened painfully and his eyes flashed up.

That was not insanity. I definitely saw that, but what was it? The colors... they were so odd... so inviting and unique... Oh, there it is again. Why is it circling me? Is that... a horse? I've never seen such colors... His mind rambled on to itself like this, while he watched, mesmerized, as the body flicked in and out of his sight like a light. He couldn't help himself, as he began to circle, pivoting on his inside hind to follow the movement precisely, so as never to miss a moment of visibility. Soon, a voice broke through the atmosphere to the stallion, accompanied by shushing and soothings. What's going on? Am I imagining company following me now, did I really get that lonely? I didn't know I could do that with my mind. Maybe I have powers... maybe I can make things appear and disappear, like this horse is doing... maybe I'm doing it all, and this world doesn't really exist except for how I make it... In a sense, the demented stud was correct. You see the world how you want to see it, and rarely does more than one soul see it the same way.

He tossed his skull impatiently, watching as the circling continued, as the 'shhh's' filled his mind to the point of annoyance. I'm fine! I don't need comfort! Though maybe I do want it... and maybe that's why you're here... did you know my mother just died? She wasn't supposed to, I was just supposed to be able to have her blaze... I wanted her to live, honest, I don't want to be without her... Is it pathetic when a thirteen year old stallion still wants the company of his mother? Quite. A mixture of both his mother's blood and his own dripped into his flared nostril, a reminder of the deed that's been done. I didn't kill her, though. I don't know who did, I would never, ever hurt my mother. She screamed, though, when I took her blaze... she told me to stop, that it hurt. But, I didn't believe her. Everyone says it hurts... but it doesn't hurt me, so how can it hurt them?

His voice, in his mind, was richly seductive and masculine. It's tones were like heaven, the perfect harmony that any would expect a stallion of charm to have. Perhaps if he hadn't become quite so demented and distorted, it would still be that way. But now? Now, the tones were raspy and raw, tinged with hurt and desires. The chestnut-gone-paint, if you could call it that, nearly jumped out of his skin - literally - when whiskers touched his withers. His skin burned and tingled at the same time, so unaccustomed to touch was he. Not even his mother dare touch the baron, for fear of what it would do to his mind. I've never felt that before... it's a completely new experience, almost as desirable as markings... and then again, I don't even know what to call it. I've never faced a word that could fit this situation... touch goes with feel, and feel goes with markings... everything goes with markings, because that's all that there is in life... markings, uniqueness, standing out... If only he knew, that his marking-less body would stand out most of all against all the marked equine...

So many new situations, the stallion was overwhelmed by it all. His eyes grew wide as a Pegasus landed before him, taking in her wings, and finally, drifting to her markings... Now that coat is unique... though, it looks almost as if it has blood splattered on it... is it real? Then again, is anything ever real? Those wings... I've never seen wings on a horse before... Oh, I want them, I've never wanted a marking quite so much... I know I say that every time I see a new one, but these aren't markings... these are... appendages? How would they fit to my body? The stallion turned his head, studying his own physique to see where the wings would attach to his physique. Would they even work? If not, they would still be gorgeous... a unique addition to my hide, and if they did work... I could soar through the sky, and find more markings... because that's all there is in life, markings... that, and that thing I don't know to call... that sensation I got when... I don't even know how to say it...

And those markings! I know I've said this already, but wow! I don't think I've ever been so intrigued by a single marking... or, rather, a body as a whole... I want to skin this mare and keep her hide with me... I want to drag it along behind me and wear it like a jacket... I want it to be mine, to morph into my skin and cling to me like glue... I want... I want... I want... The deranged beast thought, intently studying the mare. He wasn't listening to much of what she was saying, and began to circle her, further taking it in. Is it real? He thought, extending his neck to sniff the hide. It smells it... There was no metallic scent that clung to blood, so the beast's muzzle parted, and his wash cloth-like tongue ran across them. He scanned over her hide quickly, checking for smears. It is real! I've never seen anything like it, that's actually been real! I want it, I need it, I have to have it! The stallion thought, beginning to salivate at the thought.

This is where he began to see her as something important and valuable, and studied the mare as a whole. Black locks, the perfect addition to his own. Eyes? He hadn't quite figured out how to get other's eye colors, though he will openly admit he has tried. She likes my coat. How could anyone like my coat, and not be talking about the markings? The markings make my coat interesting and captivating... not the color. Not the blood that comes out every time I move, you have to look past that and see me as a whole... you have to look at the markings and imagine them as being a part of me... He thought, nodding along with the mare's rambling words. How can you be jealous of my coat? Look at yours... I've never seen markings like that... you've no idea how badly I want them. I can even go as far as to say I want them and have to have them. How did you get them? I got all my markings from other horses... they didn't like me taking them, but I had to have them.

The stallion's raw and unchecked desire was heavy in his voice, he simply couldn't hide it. It was impossible to push a desire to the back of one's mind, when such a desire was so strong. If she loved blood as much as she said she did, she would understand. Anyone with an addiction like his would understand. Name? What's a name? Is that what they call you, like my mother called me Melancholy? I think so... she just said hers was Blood Ties... so, Melancholy must be my name. You're named after things? I know what Melancholy means, but I never thought it described me. My name's... Melancholy. It means gloom, depression, things along that line... I don't know why my mother named me that, though. I do know that I don't have any siblings, and if I do, they're back at the herd. I was kicked out of the herd because a foal died when I was a foal, and I took her marking. I don't have it anymore, though, because my hide grew and the marking didn't. It tore my flesh, and I bled a lot until I took it off.

Choly remarked, thinking back to his past without shame or regret. Now, she was talking about being alone. I wasn't alone, not in the beginning... my mother was with me... she still is. See this blaze? It's hers. She's in the woods, she died though. I don't know what killed her, because taking the blaze off her head shouldn't have. I've never been alone before, it was scary... then I heard this voice, and saw this horse becoming visible and invisible... say, you didn't happen to see her, did you? I wanted some of her mane and tail... it was a strange color, and I wanted to compare it to my body... since my mother died, I don't have anyone anymore... but that voice, I think of it as my new someone. I don't get the same desires I do when I hear her voice, probably because I can't see her, so I can't want her coat. You should know that, right? If you can't see blood, you still want it, but you don't go after it, do you?

With all his mental problems, it's quite funny how easily he picks up on one's emotions. But, then again, with his being so far spread and much room in between, it could only be expected. His chocolate eyes looked over the land, searching for the disappearing and appearing horse in vain. He wanted her company, though for reasons he couldn't fathom. Maybe she'd take care of me, like my mother did? Only this time, if I tried to take one of her markings, she wouldn't die like my mother. I wish I knew what killed her, and how to stop it from happening so I can get my markings and leave the other horses in peace to heal... why does it have to happen that way? Wait, did Blood just say she wanted to be my friend? His ears perked up, as his eyes studied the mare intently. A friend, something he's never had before... besides that first filly he'd killed, but she didn't count. After all, she had died after she offered to give him her marking. It wasn't supposed to happen that way.

See, she had offered him her marking in exchange for him being her mate... but she kind of died. Choly then became obsessed with markings, so he no longer felt lust and desire for mares... he could no longer distinguish by scent between the two groups, and thus, the stallion became neither gay, straight, or bisexual. I haven't had a friend in a long time! I'll be your friend, you can call me Choly! But I want you to meet the vanishing mare, I think she could be our secret friend too! Secrets are fun, and I think they're important... but I'm not very good at keeping them, like... I think you already know most of my life story, but I know nothing of yours. I'm not very good when my mother isn't around, she usually keeps me in check and doesn't let me ramble on. She says quite is important sometimes, too, but I don't agree. How are you supposed to get your point across if you're silent? He drew in a deep breath, and scanned the horizon once more. That other horse had to be around here somewhere, and he had to see her appear once again.

Choly's thoughts - E9CBAF
Choly's voice - B1845A