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Post by RiverRun on Oct 23, 2005 20:39:54 GMT -5
Solem cries arose from the encassement of the she devil. Titaniums shuffled restlessly amongst the outskirts of the terrain. Crimson hued optics searched for any obvious stupid fucked up beings that would harrass the duo of power and might. Hmm. So this happens to be the lands of Seole? Apex thrown violently to and fro approvingly. The dreaded doomed boundaries that no one intended to cross. Phh but such mistakes would only be created by a fucker looking for a beating. Pendulum snaked along her flanks. Eerrie scares pertruded her porcelain cloakings. Crimson streaked her demonic carcass soothingly. These lands
Have come to likings
As it may be so
But where be Kemor
His absence enrages me so Appendai shifted her demonic soul forth. Curvature arched, tipping against her chest. Everglades mangled carelessly atop her crest. A knotted mess. Speculations would arise. Who be this new wench. The bitch of horror and terror. The dog. Only a brood for the fucking bastard. Kemor. Occuli narrowed to a squint. This delay of absence, what is the meaning of this? Anger tipped her words slightly. Mug lowered to the loam, skimming the worthless sod beneath her form. Slurring it as one. Enamels clacked furiously. This anger. Must go. Or one will suffer. A forward motion took the bitch flying outwords from her hidings. A greyed hue encrested the dark settings that she took homage of. Fucking idiot! Show thyself at once. Cage heaved as she spat her sentences in a hurry. In anger. In furry. Tassles toppled aimlessly about. Pearled dentals emerged from their encassement, clacking to draw the stupid bronc of his hidings. Come come. Much matters there are to speak of yes? Plume flagged, resting in an arabic stature. The bitch halted afore a gurgling source of crimsoned aqua. Jowels flexed before the devils egyption dished pan dipped to the source. Several sips flooded her interns. Quenching the now deceased source of thirst. Occuli continued to scan the perimeters of the terrain. Patience is drawn thin by now. Out. Now. We're going down, down in an earlier round
And Sugar, we're going down swinging
I'll be your number one with a bullet
A loaded God complex, cock it and pull it
A sigh escaped from her diaphragm. Occuli drew to a near squint once more. My fucking god bronc. How is it that you do not understand my patience? Now out. Screams flourished the atmosphere as she called for the demonic soul to take a stance at her side. Worship the devilled she. Brood her. She be his dog. His incubator. His slave. Anything. Or would she fight back? Time only would tell. Yet he seemed to...disgust her. Maybe it being he be a total stranger? Yes? No? What be his cursings anyway? Not much was known yet. But quickly, would the bitch find out. Maybe too quick. BitchWhoreSkankSlutDogDevil |
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Post by Sequin on Oct 25, 2005 16:53:57 GMT -5
Nares of decay flare, optics bearing no life stareing with a dull tint. His covering of ink, mind matching the hue of death, he moved foward. His presence was not fully explaniable, for he was neather dead nor living, for his presence still roamed the wreched loam. Such sinister dwellings, lifless objects roaming the eroding turf, the helpless crys of mour sounding along the boundries. If only the death of all could spread, for life held no meaning. All whom once breathed would soon arrive in this horrid relm, one of which held nothing but secrets. Memories of some sort, of the rancid life before.
Braces chured with an untold meaning, a horrid knowence of his belated entrence. The king of death arisen, his ashen hide to be known along theese boundries. So were is the bytch of his, the queen he now rules upon. His chaining latched to her being, asif to coil himself around. The plummeting rise and fall was brought to a cease, the luminost figure seeming to fade into veiw. As is the one of choosence, the one of creation had not yet decided of his placement. However he knew, his soul now held captive to the barren relms of mistreatment. He loved it.
Labriums turned upwards, the mass of iron tencing with each erry cry. Low rumbles once emersed slipped through the thin winds, cords etched upon his rump almost wishing to make their leavence with the churning winds. Strands twisting and tangeling in the mesh of their very being, he waited for the temptests arrival. Nares of nothing flared once more, a gruff sound sifting through the waves of utter silence. Jawls clenched, menacing thought surring about his hatred infested mind.
Gouges upon the dial for the purpose of sight held a stance of bore, no tale to be told. Dence shadow linned the vessel he spread wake upon, thick braces churning in a rythmatic pattern. Asif he danced upon the flames of hell he marched on, a warrior emerging to make brawl. A low yet metalic shrill of rage shredded through the waves of silence, the brute was here, the one casting rule upon the relm of the undecided. Empire thrusted into a bob, the thrashing continuing only breifly as he exited the thick glum he once lurked.
Crossing to the light, the charred flesh of Kemor rippeled due to the change of scenary. Smog of the damned circled the braces proppelling the brute foward, labriums curling as the massive form lurched on. Rouge ooze dripped from the tightend crease at the maw, the ribbon morphining into one drop as it met the loam, instantly suckeld by the geo. Muscels of the chest region flexed, the cold glare pinning to the creature who dared enter the lands of his creation. Such a peer of anger searched the of the creature along the horizion asif it were a book, reading every detail. A meek one mat it not not become. Thorns clasped the dome of he menacingly, he knew who the intruder was, actually it wasnt an intruder at all. He tones spiked through his auds asif a sythe had been drawn across them, a grimm smirk cast upon his mug as he drew foward
Do not question my arrival dear, for you know the outcomes of such. Such blunt words you exalt, do not waste my time keep doe. For time i sprecious, so easly wasted. Did yo not hear me? Answer now bitch!
The sharp hisses were feral, hedious to the auds. Ruch rancid sputters he managed to excert, cold and lifeless. Iron barbes clacked togeather, jawls tightening as he judded foward with such liquid movements one may belive they were preformed atop cool azure. The brute pulled foward beside the barrel, optics suddely rolling behind, white exchanging roles with the nocture. A last scream of defyence set a shudder through the vinals of only decoration to the lands, the mass of ebon seeming as a waterfall shaded in coal.
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Post by RiverRun on Oct 25, 2005 17:50:05 GMT -5
Porcelain carcass of the devil continued to slug aimslessly across the loam. Where be the bastard anyway? Occuli drew to a near squint. Examining the topography quickly. The horizon. The dreaded abyss. Nothing. Labrums curled in anger. 'ppendai drew forth. Charring the unworthy sod that lay beneath. The crude stench of mascu suddenly wafted her nares. Salmons flared, intaking the faint scent that drew her attention. Who might cross the corpse infested boundaries that overtook the demonic soul. It certainly be of a rotten carcass. Gliding the atmosphere with ease. Such foul odor could odly behold to such noble bastard. Be it the over powering lord of darkness? Enamels gritted, twin zeniths flattened to her poll as his bod quivered into sight. Alas the delayed arrival. About time it may seem. You have come here
in pursuit of
your deepest urge,
in pursuit of
that wish,
which till now
has been silent,
silent . . .
Eerie tunes alofted, seering the atmosphere that surrounded her corpse. The underlying beauty of a mirrage. A killer. A masked murderer. The charring threshold of your darkest dreams. Desired anger. Desired twists. Come to her. Vile words spat at her. So these be his ways eh? Cranium slurred the underlying passage before her. Doom overtook her bodice. Appendai hefted her rotting cartridge closer. Teasingly. No words wasted. None needed to. This breath would be your last. Hold your toung. Let the anger wash away. Hold it for something useful you idiot. I am only here to aid. Incubate your fucking young. The heir to the crown. Yes? Hold your toung. A bitch of pleasure. Seemingly harmless it may seem. Yes? A crooked grin painted her grimm, doll like features. Do not underestimate me bronc. I have brought you,
that our passions
may fuse and merge -
in your mind
you've already
succumbed to me
dropped all defences
completely succumbed to me -
now you are here with me:
no second thoughts,
you've decided,
decided . . . A silent woo beckoned his overcast aglow. His darkned corpse in all its splendor. Never would another touch her beast. And would one dare touch she? Oh how they would regret it so. Such a fucked world. They loved it. Apex churned the atmosphere violently. I shant question your arrival bastard. For it is what I want. Yes? Carcass drew nearer to him. Pendulum swayed across the two corpses in unity. Harsh whispers cooed to the bronc. I hear your every single diminished word you speak. Dentals revealed. Daintly plucking his rotten exterior. Past all thought
of "if" or "when" -
no use resisting:
abandon thought,
and let the dream
descend . . .
What raging fire
shall flood the soul?
What rich desire
unlocks its door?
What sweet seduction
lies before
us . . .?
You have brought me
to that moment
where words run dry,
to that moment
where speech
disappears
into silence,
silence . . .
Past The Point Of No Return
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Post by Sequin on Oct 29, 2005 18:24:38 GMT -5
Let us move with sheer haste, speed.
Move the the relms of watching, watching of young
Watching of those whom cannot bare the thought of lone
The thought of absent guidance
No prospering words shall be sputtered, words of
Mockery set in stone
Your days shall melt with mine, my days becoming yours A pair set in stone they shall forever be. The bitch laced in chaos the once beside him shall remain. Rancid tones of she held no wavering pause, the huffier holding her own as it seemed. The bronc zoned form reality to faux. Occuli rolled behind the gouges set upon the plate in purpose of glare, a glare so harsh and cruel it was. Serpentine remained motionless, motionless like his relms shall become. Motionless as death, death without a natural cause. All shall once pass to the relms of spirit, their placed rejuvenated with the new seedlings, and worthless seedlings they were.
Your soul lies intertwined with mine
Mine you shall remain
My rulence cast over your fragile frame of decay
Your words of protest discarded as the waste they were
All will know your screamence
For the wretched name shall be wailed, cursed and beaten
Dare one mock the tones?
For they too shall hear their worthless scarring slashed
The rouge they secrete dripping beside the corpse of
The bearer.
The unbecoming scent following the bastard was not of he as many would suspect, but the trail of lifeless bearings that accompany his choice in trek. Cords matted with the erosion of loam snapped along the lands of his rule, his creation. Focus lolled back to the scene before him, rancid scene at that. His bitch had strode further, slates cast of iron marring the loam as she plucked daintily upon it. A seductress the banch had become, a skilled on at that. Such precision her aimed blows were. Was this the attempt to create true emotion? A mockery it may not be, for whom would be able to tell the thoughts of this rancid pair. All so secretive…all so concealed. Focus had once again shifted from the scene but to the events, the actions spilling forth from the inhabitance of the dwelling. The one chained as queen paced forward, ashen lips flapping like the wings of a crushed bird, a screaming bird. Such annoying creatures they were, such abhorred ones at that. Would he come to believe his mate held traits of one whom caused such misery upon him, oh how he wished. Rouge dribbling down the appendage he so accuracy stroked. His she was, and he was to she. Binned, cased together as one.
I believe it should be of your request, however the pleasure is all mine. Rasped tones exited the maw of he into the waves bearring sound. He snapped out at the wench with a jolt of aggression, the nip placed upon his pelt sending a surge of rage through the pelt of the Hessian. She indeed shall listen, for the time I spend listening to her shall be unquestionable over balanced. Such splendor the time spent under the watch of silent vinals shall become of the bruten. Silence a closely held urn by the bronc laced of ebonite desence.
My pride my joy my lands have become
My wench cast in eternal bind
What is mine is mine, dare one prostest
The ruler of the lands has set forth
Dare one stand in his path?
Iron barbs gleamed with the poisonius liquid created inside the trapts of he. Labriums curled creating ridges atop the nape, harks cupping the nocture dome of he. He paced foward, rumbles surfacing in rythmatic squences, matching the pace of treck. He circled the banche, dial swaying loosely as he moved. He survayed the wench of develish, enticing she appired to the bastard. |
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Post by RiverRun on Oct 31, 2005 16:28:56 GMT -5
Apex drew with alliance to the unwanted turf that stood below. Ebonite seductionaries viewed the decaying figure that took stance by her side. Toned flesh of the she shimmered beneath the seething wrath of ones touch. Ones feel. Ones hurt. Dome tossed loosely. Tassels toppled carelessly o'er top the devils matted entanglements. Dentals clamped tightly. Hold your toung you stupid idiot. Fore iron struck the loam boredly. Boredom. Boredom. Boredom. Eerie shadows looped the decaying fortresses of the duo. Cries erupted from the over bearing shadows that bordered the lands of the royals. The rulers. The creators. The immortals. Porcelain carcass of the she strayed from her rulers side. Pendulum draped carelessly 'cross her hocks. Scars bore across her bod. Creating new, everlasting lacerations across her hued canvas. The royal king
Of darkness divine
Leashed by the unknown
Delaying will pleasure me not
We go...go...go 'ppendai carried the decaying empress several yards off. An eerie tone vocalised from the she, calling the bastard on. Boredom... Crown tucked neatly to her chest. The banshee dreadfully struck a manacing pose before the bastard. Plume flagged with ease o'er top her flanks. True arabic statures becoming known. Dial dipped to the earths crust. Dished pan erased the foaliage that dared peek from the depths below. Nares wafted the decayed scent that overcame her senses. Blinding. Blocking. Shadowing from the world. A tease drawing him on... [blah...sry really no muse right now....] |
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Post by Sequin on Nov 2, 2005 17:24:41 GMT -5
ooc:
i am replying soon! i gotta post 1 more place
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