allGRINS&&GIGGLES` [open}}

[dakodah]

TRICKaDECKaPHOBIa

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count me once, count me twice. count me ten, then times thrice. paint me black, paint me white
. hear the laughter, in the night. call me crazy, call me sane. feel the elation, feel the pain. listen for the, haunting bells. when you hear them, go to hell. i tell you this, haha, good luck. honestly? i don't give a fuck.

"Motherrr". The voice that left his lips was detached, faint, forgotten. The voice that wisped from him like smoke wasn't that of his, not now, but of him as a child. Helpless and left by the mother that decided to leave her foal. The mother that abandoned him. Left him to die. Yet this voice, it called out Mother, so delicatly. So sweetly, you'd think he was still small. You'd think, had you not seen the almost seventeen hand brute, that he was a child, helpless and lost, searching for someone he always wanted to know.
But he wasn't. He clearly wasn't.
He stood, resolute. Jaw clenched, eyeless eye sockets
twitching at the salt wafted into his nares. The crisp smell of water, drenched in the bright smell of salt. Muscles flinched
every now and then, restless and ready to move again. Yet
he just stood. The calling of his mother still lingered. Like a
foul odor, it stayed long after he called for her. Like a
distressing memory, her name hung after him. Followed him,
chased him everywhere he went. Though he left his
homelands, she followed him. Her thoughts delved into him,
took over his dwindling mind, caused his sanity to leave him
more than it already had.
And then, she was gone. And he was alone. Utterly,
sadly..alone. Why it bothered him, he didn't understand. His
whole life had been spent alone, he was his own worst
enemy. And yet when his mother would leave him, he felt
sick and upset. She was so close to him, so close. And she
abandoned him like she always did. Like she always would.
Nares flared as he pulled what little of him was left, he
moved and allowed himself to start walking. Ears were
soldiers on his head, listening, waiting. For any noise to raise
them up, ready for battle. But nothing came. Depression set
into him, as it always did right after she left. He'd be upset
until he came upon another equine. When he'd reach
another horse, he'd cheer up. But they would, inevidably,
leave as well. They always did. Who was he to expect
otherwise?
The overwhelming scent of salt took him over, causing him
to sneeze and shake his cranium. Large chunks of forelock
fell back over his forehead as he stopped moving, listening
to everything around him. The best recognized noise were
the birds. They always played, how happy they sounded. The
bluejays, how they hissed. The songbirds, singing everyone
goodmorning. How blissful their life seemed, how envious
he was of their utter lack of wordly knowledge
His knees popped as he moved. Had it been that long, had it
really? He grinned, because he felt something. A little pinge
in his heart, a reassurance something was soon to happen.
He began to pick his pace, unsure of where he was going.
Knowledge was unnecesary. Destination was unnecesary.
Travel was necesary, though. Travel was what made it okay.
Sand. His hooves slipped slightly on the cool sand, and
he knew that within a hundred yards would be water. Oh,
how he longed for the taste of salf on his tongue. How long
had it been since he'd been here. Four years? No, longer.
How old was he? Five? No..more.
A large, busty brute, he moved slowly at first, picking up the
momentum and then moving faster. At a slow walk, he made
good enough time, and was unsure of the necesity of going
faster and wasting energy.
The water. 'lap, lap, wap, lap..' called to him more than
food. It became evident the closer he got, how much he
missed home. How much this was his home. A smile
creeped onto his face. How he wished it hadn't, but it did.
He wasn't going to try and force it down, this was his home.
He belonged here, no matter if he was alone or not.
But he ran into the water before he thought he would, and
the cold stole his breath from him. The water was a theif,
taking his words and resolve. Dec clambered into the water
more, leaning into it, as if it were solid and would hold him. It
was all he knew. All he had. He felt blissful, happy. A feeling
rose in him, a feeling he knew not much of. He
was..complete. Waves rushed at him with enough force to
knock him in. For a brief second, the thought of diving
under. He thought of letting the one thing that made him
happy taking him down, to sink to the bottom, to feed the
creatures in it. To become part of the happy. Aqua
lapped him back towards the shore, and he let it until he felt
the squish of mush at the bottom.
"Mush at the bottom". That was the most accurate
description of his life. He never had anything solid to hold
onto, to lean on. Nothing was ever permanant. He sled
around on the mushy bottom until he was hit by another
wave. That was his life, that was his ocean.
Moving towards the shore, he inhaled deeply. Air racked his
lungs, and his lungs begged to take it in, yet he refused. He
wanted the water, needed the water. As he approached the
stark brown of shore, he began chuckling. Not the deep,
manly chuckle. But a Bellatrix Lastrange laugh, that tore into
you and made you feel unsafe, bitter, watched. His
cranium sliced through the air, his shoulders angled towards
the air, and he let out a gasp of a laugh, and evil, bold laugh
that invited company, that..insisted on it. Sopping
tressed slapped his robust neck, whiplash floated on the
two feet of water he still stood in.
Water swished! as he let his body fall limp back down,
heaving in air as he did so. His body shook slightly,
adreniline pumping like poison through his veins. Plump
drops of water rolled from his forelock to his star, trickling
down his nose, to reunite with the water. He grinned, his
look satisifed and angry, wonderful and elated with the
position of power. Dec was powerful, here in the water.
The sky was emense before him, clouds rolling in like some
kind of force, coming as if summoned.
Once more, Dec let out a laugh that lingered like his
mother's name, her memories. His laugh took you captive,
made you want what you knew you couldn't have. What he
wouldn't allow you to have..Him.
So there he stood, water hitting his muscled legs, sending
electricity through him, sending powerwaves through him.
The stallion stood there, and once more felt something
inside him. Utter outrage. For the first time in his life, the six
year old was angry with his mother, for leaving him. For
making him live this life.
At the time he felt his strongest, he was most vulnerable. He
needed someone, anyone, to make him whole. Dec was
missing a piece, a piece of his mind, he felt another could fill.
Sweet, childlike voice came back as he grinned, giggled and
said;
'I rang the bells, love. Now please, come to hell, love.'

word count ;i'm not sure.
thread status ;open.
character ;trickadeckaphobia.
other :sorry, this kind of sucks /:

[fallen]

D I A B L O

.I`m in love with my lust
Burning angel wings to dust
I wish I had your angel tonight.

Ash covered pistons pulled the monsterous form of the ebony beast forward. His form was more nigrescent than the dark night skies. Glistenign white fangs were coated in the bright sticky liquid he loved, his body sang of death as he roamed through the lands. Long tonge slid from its captivity in his jows, rolling around teh monsterous four fangs and his ashen lips, cleaning up the excess blood that was there.

Dark red, black and orange laced orbs darted across teh terra. Diablo had not come into contact with any equine remotly close to his height and build. His long legs, slenderly bulky bod and broad chest made him very dangerous. The friesian blood in his was thick and so he had the build of one but all the strength of the heavy drafts that coarsed through his viens. Long wavy black and crimson threads were tossed from his visage as he came upon teh ocean.

His hulking black frame stood off in the tree line as he saw the figure of a stallion move to the waves. Hellish orbs narrowed, bloodied lips puleld back to revele his blood drenched ivories as he watched paitently. Diablo had just finished hunting, but he was a big boy.. and big boys needed lots of food. Diablo let suave grin plaster his lips as he watched teh stallion in teh waves. It was quite entertaining.

Diablo snorted before walking onto the shore, teh stallion now was standin in the shallow water and his child like voice rang into the demons ears. 'I rang the bells, love. Now please, come to hell, love.' Diablo smiled, the wicked grin hellish as his over grown fangs jutted from his ashen and blood soaked lips.. "No worries colt, I'v already been there," Diablo grinned, teh demonic voice that left him was unliek any other. It had no true begining and sounded as if it was just the voice you ehard in yoru sweetest nightmares.

Diablo moved forward, 19.2 hand frame towering over the colts. The stallion really wasn't a young colt, more like 7 years but iablo was 13, adn so everyone younger than he was a colt or filly. The beast smirked down upon the young brute, hellish orbs watching his gorgeous frame as he stayed just out of reach of the water. "Why don't you get out of there, and pay me a visit." Diablo coaxed, his cold suave voice menecing in his flirtacious taunt. now Diablo wasn't gay, he just enjoyed men almost how he enjoyed women. He just liekd Women more.

[dakodah]

TRICKaDECKaPHOBIa

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count me once, count me twice. count me ten, then times thrice. paint me black, paint me white
. hear the laughter, in the night. call me crazy, call me sane. feel the elation, feel the pain. listen for the, haunting bells. when you hear them, go to hell. i tell you this, haha, good luck. honestly? i don't give a fuck.

I've never felt safe. The word was washed away from my vocabulary when she first left me. It seemed like blasphemy to even think of safe. It was something I had simply learned not to do. I didn't think of it. Didn't ask about it. Life was simpler when you learned the rules and went by them. When you broke one, though..you learned even more. You began to see that the rules should be broken. Knowledge comes through pain.
Perhaps..perhaps that's why I am this way. I'm crazy and uncontrollable and gay. Maybe that's because I've learned it's easier to be hurt all the time and learn, compared to being safe and stupid.
Intelligence isn't about the size of your body or even the size of your brain. Honestly, intelligence is simply and purely about the size of your dick. You'd be surprised how many idiots there are, bladdering about how intelligence is about brains and how you learn through being taught, BLAHAHA. It's bullshit.

Sudden interuption, anger boiled in his throat as he looked over, at what he guessed to be a ghastly stag standing close to him, the smell of blood thick in the air. Anger, as he noticed the fangs that poked through his crimson covered lips. Anger, as he took part in staring at the nineteen hand brute, black pistons slowing as he drew near Trick. Anger, as he got closer, closer. Anger, as lust began inside his chest and crawled, slowly, slowly, like a snake through his stomach, winding around his back. Anger, as the lust twirled towards his rump, his testicles. Anger, as if drew towards his neck, towards his jaw, getting slower, a tease as if reached his nares and lips. Eyes closed tight, memories came to him, but he forced them away. A different stallion, a different day. This wasn't him. It wasn't. The thought came into him like a bad idea, forcing itself into his mind.
His lack of eyes didn't make it hard to see. His ears were like his eyes, he sensed the outline of the brute, he sensed the rage that filled him fully. The rage transferred, trickling into Dec, taking him hostage until he was upset, and he backed away slowly. The stallion didn't intimidate him, as he was rarely scared or intimitdated, but something about him was clearly off. How dare him come here, how dare him stand there infront of him and act like he was some big shit. 'No worries colt, i've already been there.' Ha, that's funny. What a big piece of fuck. A giant, ugly piece of fuck.
And he was, in his opinion. He was huge, dark [though he was unsure if he was black or dark brown], clearly of draft composure. Whereas Dec was thin, light, tall, this stallion was thick, muscled, huge.
Words came to him quickly, his response was simple and plain, nothing that mattered to anyone. But, for the stallion, words rarely mattered. "It's funny how you're trying to scare me, it's like your funny way, a dead beat. You want to seem so big and bad? There are much better ways to be had. He rhymed because he always did. That was the way things were, the way things would always be.
MisterBigDick came forward, closer. The sand crushed underneath his daggers, the crunching like the ground splitting in Trick's ears. 'Why don't you get out of there and pay me a visit.' The words, the way they were shaped in the other stag's mouth aggravated Trick. Why don't you fuck yourself. Part of him was glad this stallion couldn't read minds. He was glad he wasn't different.
'Haha, I guess you're kind of cute. But i'd really like to feel you, to get to know you, brute. You gotta name? I'm sure you do, as only is expected. I'd love to break down your walls, and find everything..' Pause..one..two..three. 'protected.'

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