INCARCERATION,

[Whipster]

complicate my future

There is a twisted smile on his face, one that curls just slight at the corners and lights up his eyes. The summer sun beats down hard on his bodice, cradling his sides in a scathing embrace. Ivanov welcomes this feeling as if comes, the plains coming into view and opening up to vast waves of honey colored grasses. Mustang was opening up to be a lovely place, better than any previous home he had previously had. It was filled with opportunity — something that he would not pass up now for anything. There were already faces that were imprinted in the back of his mind, there were already men that he envied and others that he wished to conquer and kill. Oh, Ivanov knew he had arrived at such a good time. A king had just been murdered, thrown all over the papers and front pages, leaked news, but nothing new. He did appreciate the strategy, if there was one, that the twins had used against killing their grand father. But they were young (he was, too) but they were stupid in comparison.

The stallion looked over the plains like a hawk to it's kin. Awaiting for someone to be stupid enough to stumble across him. His best bet was the Forest, much too far now to turn around, but there were always woman whom stumbled in and never made their way out. He was fiending for a good show of bloodbath or good entertainment. Not empty in the least, though, simply searching for someone new. His insides were burning with need for compliance: he needed attention, he needed the physical closeness, he needed someone. Otherwise his skin would crawl everywhere, he would tingle and need to scrape away at his skin to make the voices and claws go away... he needed to find his next sense of salvation. The stallion let a shrill cry into the air, pushing himself forward, into the sea of honey colored long grass, the kind that brushed his underbelly and even kissed closely to the tops of his shoulder blades. He would home here for now, until someone came


for kota & OPEN! _____ for ivanov & whoever ♥

[Diati]

(Hope you don't mind me throwing Seraphim in here? c:)

Sometimes, Seraphim was truly disgusted with her existence. What had she accomplished? What mark had she left to be remembered by? All alone, it felt as if her soul had withered up and fallen away, sucked dry by her insatiable greed for adoration. The spotlight shining on some other sweet prairie flower, the sultry mare had been cast out into the dark. For so long, it was nothing but that cold, bleak emptiness. She was no one special. Nothing of note.

She hated it.

But still she survived on, tending to her broken ego, waiting for the opportune moment to rekindle the flame within her. Her wandering often took her all over Mustang, but the plains were always something she found safety in during this horrific time in her life. An ocean of gold, gently waving at every kiss of wind; it was the perfect place to blend in, to slip away and disappear. Not many others came here, which made it all the easier to hide her disgrace.

But as a cry pierced the air, carried across the wind and came crashing through the gates of her mind, Seraphim's quiet misery was left disturbed. She had been laying in the tall grass some ways away from the source, but at the sound of distant hoof-beats drawing near, she hesitantly poked her head up, just high enough to catch a glimpse.

What she saw made her heart flutter, and old urges stirred. Coming nearer, there was a handsome young stallion, muscles rippling as he pushed through the tall grass. A small battle waged in the mare's mind, but her old ways quickly won out over her mild depression. This was her shot, and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to take it.

Standing up straight, giving herself a quick once over to be sure her coat shone just right in the sun, Seraphim sucked in a deep breath and effortlessly let out a sweet little call back. Trotting out towards him, the mare stopped a top a small hill, her pale mane playfully tousled by the wind and her green eyes flashing as a seductive smile played at her lips.

It was time to get back in the saddle.

(Oof...Not actually too sure about how I like this one. It's been a long time since I've played Sera, so here's hoping it gets better as I get back into the swing of it! xD)
Whipster

[Whipster]

complicate my future

Ivanov had not seen her there, laying amongst the tall grasses, by her lonesome. If he had, maybe this situation would have been different. He could have struck, made his move. Instead he stands and let's his cerulean eyes fall on the spotted woman. She is a new face to his roster; much unlike many of the others he had seen, because she is not plain or meek. Her cat call makes his ears twitch and a brow raised, a tooth filled grin pulling upward. She doesn't exibit the bad habit of approaching a complete stranger. But the sabino man knows he is handsome and ever so willing to fulfill whatever fantasy she has, he knows that a random tryst amongst a commoner has never been looked down upon. His own mother had once been a random woman wandering, and his father a dead man. Into the summers breeze, Ivanov exhaled a lengthy whicker back to her, followed by a snort, and not soon after the stallion began to dance in her direction. He liked the way the wind made her locks whirl like waves, even the way that her smile beckoned him closer, 

The stallion came to a stop feet away to her right shoulder. His crown raised up, like a king to a pretty girl at a dance. He kept his gaze sharp, connecting with her eyes and his own shined with a smile, similar to the one on his lips, hanging there carelessly. Ivanov nickered quietly, like a colt sizing up his father, playful and mischievous. A harlot was not his first priority that day, but it didn't stop him from seizing the day. "What a day, isn't it?" the sabino man questioned, his voice low and thoughtful, a bat of his inky lashes over sky blue to flutter away the ambition that ached to be fed, the demon that whimpered to exist out of body. Ivanov struggled with himself, as pitiful as it was, and he shook the thought from his head quickly. No, he would not hurt this little gypsy dancer. Maybe not even ever. Would they have something? Ivanov brought his mind back into focus, softening up his smile and pushing into a trot, circling around her once before brushing past her left shoulder. "You've got yourself some company now. Isn't that a relief?"




for Diati & kotsy & OPEN! _____ for ivanov, sera & whoever ♥

[Diati]

The line had been cast and the bait taken, and as the unfamiliar stallion wove his way closer towards her, Seraphim silently congratulated herself at reeling in a prize winning catch. Their eyes met, and the connection was intense. A small shiver raced along her spine, those enchanting blue eyes pulling her into a lean to get closer. He wasn't just handsome, no. His presence was almost overpowering, all consuming. Though his smile was soft and seductive, the air surrounding him was dark and dangerous. There had to be more to him than pretty eyes and a chiseled body, something wicked. Seraphim wanted it. She wanted more.

A bat of his lashes and the cool wash of his voice, Seraphim sized him up just as he did she. Electricity seemed to spark from even the gentle brush of his skin against hers, and the mare leaned ever so slightly into the touch. A fine day and even finer company. She purred, her eyes holding steady contact with his. Shifting to stand in a more submissive manner, her frosted coat shimmered as she moved ever so slightly. Though I find more relief in the fact that someone such as yourself came to find me. A somewhat bitter laugh crept out of her throat. So many fools wander around, assuming the world is theirs. It's comforting to finally find a man that might actually have what it takes to claim it for themselves.

That was one fact that proved itself to Seraphim time and time again. So many stallions, so many idiots with no class, no skill in the hunt for one's most basic desires. 'Love' and seduction were a delicate dance, and the more steps there were, the more satisfying the reward. Often times, they'd approach a beautiful mare like herself and assume they could brute their way between her legs. Seraphim never claimed to be a difficult mare, no. She had her needs just like any man out there did. But she still had standards.

But, I have to ask, hun. What brings a god among men all the way out here? It had been a bit strange to come across him out here, in the middle of no where. It was usually a place where those with nothing go to disappear. Where the lost and the lonely seek solace in the nothingness. Seraphim knew nothing of this handsome stud, but it was obvious he was not lost, lonely, or broken. Power and pride radiated from him. What did he have to find out here?

Whipster

[kota]

    

    Ida is the forgotten child. Abandoned by her mother and blatantly overlooked by her legendary father. Still, she bears his mark, a clouded half-moon imprinted upon the flesh of her pallid shoulder. This is the reason behind her cynicism, this is what has shaped her into a sardonic sack of teenage flesh. She is the electricity that hides within an exposed wire, the knowing hint of a smirk perpetually strewn across her angled facade, you can see the ghost of her father shining through the expression, masked by the beauty her lady mother had once possessed. She is the igniting flame of a lighter, a torrid, burning, roiling flame that rushes through your veins in a race of ecstasy. She is a child made of gold and silver and obsidian. Rich and deadly sharp. 

    She stalks through the grasses of the plain with little regard to her path, the reeds brushed against the pale gold of her undercarriage. She sees her, as tan as the expanse around them, then she sees him, a mass of auburn musculature. It was then that she felt as if a match had been struck, a candle lit at the end of a tunnel. She was but a child afraid of the dark and he was a torch that offered to rescue her from the shadows. Harks flick back involuntarily, she is not as weak as her thoughts want her to believe. This woman before her is not as weak as Ida wishes to believe, but that doesn't make her strong either.

    She strolls closer, quick enough to catch the last set of words to fall from the tan girl's lips. Ida's lashes bat languidly, slowly to reveal the electric blue of her eyes. Her tongue is a razor, "Only the damned are expelled from Olympus," Her eyes flick over him accompanied by a nonchalant roll of her pale shoulders. "are you one of the Titans?" Now that she's made an entrance, could she ignore the other woman?

Whipster & Diati sorry she's a tiny bit overconfident