Post by s p o n g e on May 4, 2007 16:20:07 GMT
Auditioning for New Dark King for Morthirius. This post is me roleplaying the same character with the same personality as Morthirius, but the only difference is the name. ^^ And this is a new post than my example one. Also, this is the one I posted for on FA2. xD
[I can see you but you can't see me
I'd protect you if you wouldn't, kill me
Are you certain that you fell down?
I'm just waiting, so you really let your gun down? ]
The daggers of a dreaded beast quietly echoed, Mensagem was here. His pistons had carried him to a path that winded to the top of the one of many Lilith Cliffs. But after some time it t'was getting boring being up on your own. Nares flared in anger, as he jumped started into a fine canter. The rain patter upon his back, hitting harder now that he was moving at an incrediable speed. Message's ebon tresses whisked in the wild wind, forming nots and tangles with each strand of hair as he moved. It was a beautiful view from the side of this cliff, although mabe it was too beautiful for this brutes liking. Mensagem followed the winding path down to near the bottom of this cliff, he hadn't travelled that far up it so it should be pretty easy to get back to the homelands.
[Your relaxed, your sublime, your amazing
You don't even know the danger you're facing
If I'm quiet, I'll slide up behind you
And if you hear me I'll make sure to try to find you]
During his travel down this clearly engraved path, Message had the smell of his most hated. Aerians and Lucians, the darn things. It was like a throbbing head-ache these types of equines to Mensagem. And yet to get to the bottom of this cliff he would have to pass them. Darn. No easy way out this time. The smell became unbearable, homing in on him as he twisted round a sharp bend. Daggers grazed the rock, imbedding a long line into the sod that would stay for eternity. His pistons slowly grew to a halt, and there standing before him was a queen, a king, and some other followers or loners. Great.
"A good day ruined ..."
Thought the morrian loner. His dark bod stood before the small group talking about unknown things to him. Message's bright blood red and silver constrasting eyes glared at each individual for about a few seconds. Examining each body with a destiny to taste their blood. He began to picture their insisdes, their skelentons ripped of their organs lying in pools of blood.
"That's more like it."
The brujen thought again, this time his lips began to move along with the words as he thought them.
[My skin is caving in
My heart is craving out
No mercy, no remorse
And its going off course]
Message's mane continued tangle and twist with the wind, as most would call 'disturbing thoughts' constantly ran through his mind. His long whipcord slashed his hide, his tresses slashing his neck. Mensagem remained as still as ever, even with the wind trying to force him over, his knee joints remained locked. The brujen stood tall, but not at a stance that looked like he was going to begin doing what he was thinking, or maybe planning on doing. Mensagem also remained as silent as his stillness, hoping to cause a fraction of slight fear in the other equines that now stood before him. Mensagem only gave a low growl kind of noise, and his blood red and silver eyes darted to what he was imagining the King's brain lying upon the ground. Some would call him distressed, others just say he is mentally disturbed. Some call him the devil ... while he calls himself Message. An equine that is so unreadable - but at times so predicatable.
[I wanna suck your face
I wanna suck your soul
I wanna wear your face
I WANT TO BREAK IT ALL ]
I'd protect you if you wouldn't, kill me
Are you certain that you fell down?
I'm just waiting, so you really let your gun down? ]
The daggers of a dreaded beast quietly echoed, Mensagem was here. His pistons had carried him to a path that winded to the top of the one of many Lilith Cliffs. But after some time it t'was getting boring being up on your own. Nares flared in anger, as he jumped started into a fine canter. The rain patter upon his back, hitting harder now that he was moving at an incrediable speed. Message's ebon tresses whisked in the wild wind, forming nots and tangles with each strand of hair as he moved. It was a beautiful view from the side of this cliff, although mabe it was too beautiful for this brutes liking. Mensagem followed the winding path down to near the bottom of this cliff, he hadn't travelled that far up it so it should be pretty easy to get back to the homelands.
[Your relaxed, your sublime, your amazing
You don't even know the danger you're facing
If I'm quiet, I'll slide up behind you
And if you hear me I'll make sure to try to find you]
During his travel down this clearly engraved path, Message had the smell of his most hated. Aerians and Lucians, the darn things. It was like a throbbing head-ache these types of equines to Mensagem. And yet to get to the bottom of this cliff he would have to pass them. Darn. No easy way out this time. The smell became unbearable, homing in on him as he twisted round a sharp bend. Daggers grazed the rock, imbedding a long line into the sod that would stay for eternity. His pistons slowly grew to a halt, and there standing before him was a queen, a king, and some other followers or loners. Great.
"A good day ruined ..."
Thought the morrian loner. His dark bod stood before the small group talking about unknown things to him. Message's bright blood red and silver constrasting eyes glared at each individual for about a few seconds. Examining each body with a destiny to taste their blood. He began to picture their insisdes, their skelentons ripped of their organs lying in pools of blood.
"That's more like it."
The brujen thought again, this time his lips began to move along with the words as he thought them.
[My skin is caving in
My heart is craving out
No mercy, no remorse
And its going off course]
Message's mane continued tangle and twist with the wind, as most would call 'disturbing thoughts' constantly ran through his mind. His long whipcord slashed his hide, his tresses slashing his neck. Mensagem remained as still as ever, even with the wind trying to force him over, his knee joints remained locked. The brujen stood tall, but not at a stance that looked like he was going to begin doing what he was thinking, or maybe planning on doing. Mensagem also remained as silent as his stillness, hoping to cause a fraction of slight fear in the other equines that now stood before him. Mensagem only gave a low growl kind of noise, and his blood red and silver eyes darted to what he was imagining the King's brain lying upon the ground. Some would call him distressed, others just say he is mentally disturbed. Some call him the devil ... while he calls himself Message. An equine that is so unreadable - but at times so predicatable.
[I wanna suck your face
I wanna suck your soul
I wanna wear your face
I WANT TO BREAK IT ALL ]
