don't venture into the bermuda triangle {open}

[Jezebella]

The thunderstorm had arrived, just as many animals had predicted. Some had seen it coming as it blew across the ocean, striking viciously at the water that was below it. The sky had grown darker and darker as the seconds turned to minutes. Some had known by the sights of the thunderstorm, others had felt the storm approaching by the dramatic pressure changes brought on by the attack of the distant storm. Most animals had thought to take cover before the storm arrived, but one, lone horse decided that she wanted to watch the storm approach. The lightening was so beautiful as it struck out across the ocean, and then the rumble of thunder as it rolled across the land was music to her ears.

The horse was young, only about four years old, and she was a mare. Her name was Devil's Triangle, most commonly known as Bermuda, like the Bermuda Triangle. She was a red roan appaloosa mare who had been abandoned at only a year old. She had been roaming the lands for a few years, searching for a land that she could rule alongside a strong stallion. So far, she had found no one, and she was still on her own. She kind of liked it that way, though. There was no one around to bother her when she wanted to be alone, so that was one positive thing about it. But being alone all the time could get fairly boring. She sighed at the thought. You would think that after a few years, one would get used to being alone. She mostly had, but the past few days had gone by eerily slow, and she had hoped that somehow she would stumble across a stallion that had enough balls to handle her.

The young mare had started up the steep climb just after the rain had started, but now that she was almost to the top, she wondered why she had chosen this place to find shelter. She knew there was a cave at the top of the steep incline, but the climb up was very dangerous, and Devil's Triangle had already slipped a few times. She told herself to not look down, but she had to watch her feet. She focused solemnly on her feet and refused to let her eyes shift to the water 75 feet below. Her heart pounded within her chest as she climbed higher, the dark clouds making the area almost completely black until the lightning struck, lighting up the sky for only a moment before disappearing to let the rumbling of the thunder take over.

As soon as Devil's Triangle reached the top of the cliff, she looked out over the water, admiring the beauty of the lands from that high up. She stayed there, staring at the water and lands before she disappeared inside the safety of the cave, and she let out a long breath of relief that she realized then that she had been holding while she climbed up. Her heartbeat started to slow, and she inched her way farther into the cave, hoping that she wasn't intruding on anyone's home or anything along those lines. Her hooves clicked on the hard stone floor, echoing off the walls of the cave and making it hard to know where exactly the cave ended. The air was chilled slightly in the cave, making the filly shiver. At last, Bermuda found a dead end that wasn't too far from the entrance, so she had a little light, but it was still much colder than she would have liked. It was her only escape from the storm, though, so it would have to do for now. She sighed gently and folded her legs underneath her, lying down on the chilly stone floor. She knew that she couldn't lie down for long, but she needed to get off of her feet for a bit, even if it was only for a few minutes. Her eyes watched the entrance to the cave as it lit up with every lightening strike. She was already drying off, and she was thankful that she had found this cave to offer her shelter.




Words: 694
Muse: pretty good
Puppet: Devil's Triangle
Tags: nadda
Lyrics: None
Notes: Kind of a bad starting post... Sorry...
Credits: Me for the post and character.

[( miss torn )]

The sky was a shade of stone as heaven's lay dormant, rumbling as they prepared to release their colossal downpour. Birds cawed their final goodbyes to the sun as it was overwhelmed by the generous amount of clouds. There was little enthusiasm to speckle the land, for animals had crawled into den and hole to hide from the oncoming rains. However, a lone stallion continued his way across the terra. A bulky steed, well-muscled about his shoulders and with a nape to die for. The tobiano had the blood of a gypsy, no longer unconventional or unrefined - for he'd obtained his own land, which was some sort of accomplishment. A most complex one at that. He wasn't in the slightest inconvenienced by the downpour, in fact - he found it harmoniously appetizing. Sating his flitting harks that had long since been deprived of sound.

He, in truth, could not recall his last conversation with another equine. Sightings were few and far between as it was... As a sudden haze of cobalt fell around him, his optics squinted with useless ambition to see through the opaque glaze. His patched sides grew sleek, heaving with a steady influx of processed oxygen as he took each, feather-light step. The battered and bruised welkings above hardly looked pleased by the state of their carefully manufactured heaven's. Stones tumbled in the wind's course and violent fury. The rain continued on, carefully slithering over the painted contours of his frame. Continuing on, Wintor's serpentine named was arched, tresses drenched and clinging to his smooth flesh. His sliding hooves parted the earth like a plough, sending millions of particles of mud askew into the atmosphere.

Walking against the relentless wind, his insatiable curiosity flared at the sight of another equine wandering her way through the heaven's parted sobs. Lucid sapphire optics glittered with a peculiar excitement and harks stood alert and perfect atop his curved skull. The long, waving locks of his banner flashed their multitude of colors. Blacks, greys, and whites tickling the air. The land was a ebony sea of falling skies, a lithosphere that was anything but flat with it's lovely landscape drowned out by the obscurity that only the divine god's could provide.

The stallions darkly tipped harks leaned back toward his drenched nape as he neared the mare; not in a blatant hostility - that was obvious to even the dimmest of equines - but simply to listen for any stalkers behind him. He didn't desire to sweep this mare off her feet, let alone show off. Wintor quirked a brow at the mare in a pure sense of curiosity, for he was no Casanova - nor was he any sort of pervert. Lucid gaze roaming the planes of her splattered pelt in merely a sense of registration, he stopped in his tracks. Though his stance was calm, the drafty stallion was perfectly aware that he hadn't the slightest idea whom she was. So his eyes trailed, searching for any sort of ailments. The steed blinked through the torrential downpour; finding disfigurements was quite the challenge when you could hardly see a stone before you.

Even though she was deep within the cavern, Wintor could still make out her figure. With little patience, he stepped into her dwelling without any sense of hostility. No sense in frightening the daylights out of her; though he hadn't the slightest intellect on her to know whether nor not she was entirely helpless or the most tactical, diabolical fighter he'd ever meet. The stallion hardly liked to be rude and invade any sense of privacy the harlot had, but never had he promised to be entirely chivalrous. Shaking water from his pelt, Wintor came somewhat dangerously close to the red roan vixen. "'Ello thar, m'dear." The steed greeted. There was no bashful hint within his gaze, no hints of some shy boy. He was fully confident as he greeted her.

tagged: Bella / Bermuda
word count: 651
notes: x
muse: Meehh

[Jezebella]

It was only a few minutes later that Devil's Triangle closed her eyes, hoping to find some long needed sleep. Even though she loved the night, she was too exhausted to stay awake any longer. The rain poured down outside of her cavern, and the rumbling of the thunder was like a lullaby to her ears. The scene was just perfect for her, and she soon drifted off into a light sleep. She felt as if she had just fallen asleep when she heard the heavy footsteps of another horse. They sounded close, and they also sounded like they were headed in Bermuda's direction. She hoped that they would move on past the cave or maybe even fall off the edge of the cliff, but she didn't think that that was very likely. The horse that the footsteps belonged to was either following her or looking for shelter from the rain.

Devil's Triangle lifted herself to her feet, not wanting to be in her most vulnerable position should the equine coming up to cliff be a threat. Of course, really anyone was a threat to her. She was the most perfect equine in the lands, and the world was just too horrible to comprehend that. That was what she thought, at least. To everyone else, she was a bitch. Harsh, rude, cruel, and mean to practically everyone that she met. It wasn't that she hated the world, she just didn't like horses that didn't understand that she was absolutely perfect in every way, shape, and form. She didn't think it was really too difficult to understand, but almost every equine that she had ever met had been too nice or just didn't understand her ways of thinking. It angered her to think that horses were so stupid they couldn't even think like she could.

Devil's Triangle sighed and shook out her mane before lifting her eyes to the entrance once more and freezing. There, almost appearing out of no where, was the other equine. She had completely forgotten about him when she got lost in her thoughts, and now that he was standing in the entrance to the cave, she froze in fear. She soon relaxed, though, lowering her ears in a slightly aggressive manner to show the other horse that she was not afraid of a fight. She could tell that the other equine was a stallion, not only by his scent, but by his figure as well. He had a very muscular build to him, and stood at a decent height. He was black and white in color, a Tobiano coloration to match his Gypsy Vanner look. White tressels flowed off of his legs, forming curtains around his hooves.

Devil's Triangle watched the stallion as he moved into the cavern with her, walking far too closer to her as she would have liked. Her ears flattened fully, and she turned to face him completely, her head held high to show that she was not afraid of the steed before her. Her aqua pools scanned over him once more as she listened to his vocals fill the cave. She only waited a moment before replying to him, her voice almost challenging. "What do you want?" Her voice never wavered to show fear, for she held none in her body. Her eyes watched him carefully, for if he took one step closer to her, she would grow violent, and she knew that he didn't want that. Of course, growing violent would possibly make him go away, wouldn't it? So that was a good thing. Bermuda stomped her foot at the thought. No she didn't want him to go just yet. Maybe he could prove to her that he was worthy enough to handle her. Maybe he could actually be the one to take her back to his herd.




Words: 635
Muse: Pretty Good
Puppet: Devil's Triangle
Tags: Torn / Wintor
Lyrics: None
Notes: Nadda
Credits: Me for the post and character.

[( miss torn )]

Clipping in place, his hooves made satisfying bangs against the rock floor. Isn't she just a charmer. Wintor thought dully. Quite so, the voice of a beauty - yet a spirit doused in acid. He'd met quite a few darkies that carried that same characteristic 'charisma'. With a slight chuckle, the stallion shook his patched pelt. The roof of the cavern rang with a steady beat, quivering from it's core as patterns of crystilline waters fell upon it. He wasn't at all bothered by being cooped within a small enclosure with such a vulgar vixen, in fact - it could turn out rather humorouing. Even with his low tolerance for pointless bitterness, he kept an unyielding grip upon his patient, amiable manners.

Flicking his bicolored tresses, the drafty stallion tossed the locks upon his broad tiara. Harks pointed toward the witch, he did not falter in the slightest. Both were confident fools, a dangerous combination. A light versus what one could easily assume to be a dark. There was doubt in the possibilities of a fight, because though she seemed unreasonably aggressive, why on earth would she lunge for a jugular that hadn't spoken anything harsh? Yet, anyways. Shifiting on four, stocky pistons - the muscled stallion drew back a step, turning his back on her to investigate the gaping walls. Wintor didn't bother to look back on her, she needed a rainbow or two - and he didn't quite feel like offering a smile to such a gloomy being. With a quirked expression, he called to her.

"Straight forward, aren'tchu luv?" His voice was smooth and silky, rather gruff and obviously masculine.

Wintor had a peculiar bloodline. At seventeen point one hands high, he had only his ample amount of draft line to thank for that. All he could figure was that his ancestors had been hell-bent to create a war-machine, instead birthing a mixed brute with too kind a personality to go about wreaking havoc. He was a thick, stocky stallion; nothing lean about his figure in spite of his thoroughbred lineage. With long legs and a handsome, sculpted pate - he was a true horse of the kings. Wandering about on stilts slabbed with ebon and ivory until he neared the cave entrance.

The gaping hole revealed nothing but a desolate land bathed in falling waters, a litter of twigs and leaves thrown about by the banshee that was wind. The breezes howled with a furious screech, and he calmly retraced his steps to the appaloosa mare. Wintor was well aware of how saturated her body was with tension, perfectly prepared to launch into battle. It was slightly unsettling, but not to the point where he'd be frightened out of his wits. In fact, he wasn't even bothered in the slightest. Banner smacking minuscule vampires from his flanks, the hellion tilted his cerebrum slightly to the side.

"Ye'd be quite the luvlay thing if you'd get that frown off yer' face." He chuckled, completley ready for the oncoming insult. At the very least, he wouldn't be so unfortunate as to have to listen to an arranging of light mares... They could be awfully annoying, giggling about and laughing at the most daffy of things. Darks and Neutrals tended to gather among one another, plotting an coniving. It seemed stubbornly unlikely that'd he remain so fortunate throughout his life. But perhaps he'd discover mares with some other flaw or trait that set them aside from the.. typical lights.

Rolling his bulky shoulders, the stallion turned his carriage toward the exit yet again. It seemed more like an annoyance to pace back and forth, but he'd do truthfully anything to stimulate conversation. It was too dull and dreary in here, and though he did not mind the satisfying clicks as he trodded upon the stone floor - another voice seemed far more comforting. On a good day, he would've preferred to abstain from coming into contact with this sort of mare altogether, but he was feeling particularly grumpy; not desiring any friendly prattle. It'd do him some good to banter with another.

tagged: Bella / Bermuda
word count: 683
music: Not gonna Get Us - t.a.T.u
notes: x
muse: Okay

[Jezebella]

The pattering of rain filled the mare's ears. Strikes of lightning lit up the sky, and thunder followed too soon after. A loud crack within the night, allowing none of the animals to sleep. The storm was close. Too close, really. It seemed to be right over the top of the horses. Of course, they were protected by the cave. Well, at least enough so that it wasn't likely they would be struck by lightning. Though I wish this bastard would get out of here. Maybe he'd be struck by lightning. Thought the mare as she glared at the stallion. He was intruding on her space. Not that she would have minded had it been another mare that she could actually get along with, but he was a stallion and nothing at all like her. To her, he wasn't even that handsome. He was just a large, bulky being that had no right to be intruding on her space.

His large hooves clicked against the stone floor, making the mare pin her ears. She hated unneeded noise, and him moving about made it harder for her to stand. A snort exited Bermuda's nostrils, and she glared at him, almost as if she could force him away with such a look. His head tossed as he shook out the mane that grew from him neck, and his ears were pointed toward Devil's Triangle as she spoke her words. He shifted on his legs before turning his back to her, angering her further. No one ever turns their back on the Devil. Before the mare had time to act upon his movements, his deep tones filled the cavern, making her scoff slightly. "Was that an answer to my question?" Her soprano voice was filled with cold hate as she spoke, "Because I didn't here anything that resembled what you might be doing here."

Devil's Triangle stood at only fifteen point three hands tall. Though she was taller than most other horses, she was definitely not a draft horse. She was proud of it, too. In her mind, draft horses had oddly shaped heads and weren't attractive at all. The light, fast horses were the most attractive. They had perfectly shaped heads and muscular bodies built for speed and agility. They were absolutely perfect, whereas Drafts were ugly and far from perfect. Though they were large, and had muscles built for pulling things and fighting, a lighter horse held far more beauty and could be much more powerful than a Draft horse. It just took the right brains to get the job done. Something that the larger breeds didn't have.

Devil's Triangle was suddenly slapped out of her thoughts as a crack of thunder rumbled throughout the cave. The mare tossed her head, and watched the stallion as he looked out the entrance of the cave, watching the rain pouring down, and the leaves and twigs being thrown around by the wind. To the mare, it was a beautiful sight. She was in love with storms, and if she had it her way, there would be storms all the time, but there was no way that she could make that happen, and so she was stuck with just having a storm every now and then. Such a shame, really. Storms were such a beautiful part of life, but one was only seen every now and then. The Appaloosa mare tossed her head again, before looking over at the stallion and letting her mane fall in a messy way onto her neck.

The stallion spoke once more, and his words were an insult to her. She would never have the frown removed from her face to be replaced by a smile. It just wouldn't happen. Therefore, he had just called her ugly in her mind, and she almost snapped. Her body tensed to an uncomfortable level as she held herself back from lunging at him. "And you'd be far more handsome if you... Oh that's right... There's nothing you can do to make yourself handsome." Her voice was filled with venom as she spoke, and she glared at him as he started to pace, getting on her nerves again with the unneeded noise. Her ears were flat against her head, her body was tense, and the whites of her eyes shown more than normal. Devil's Triangle was displaying much anger, and she knew that she was going to have to kick this stallion out of the cavern before she had to fight him. Though, to her, a fight wouldn't be all that bad.




Words: 755
Muse: Pretty Good
Puppet: Devil's Triangle
Tags: Torn / Wintor
Lyrics: None
Notes: Nadda
Credits: Me for the post and character.