rated M for language, because tannor cusses. a lot.
You could say that someone is me.
I've always had a problem of opening my mouth and letting verbal vomit flow through my lips without a single care in the world. I've tried to be the elegant leader. The one with poise and class. But so far ladies and gentlemen, it just hasn't worked out for me. This extreme side of my personality could easily be blamed on the fact that I was forced to age and grow against my will on the day of my birth. I hadn't had the opportunity like the rest to learn how to properly behave.
Though let us be honest. Had I received the same opportunity as the rest of you, I'd be just like you and how boring would that be? It would most likely be one crazy fucking snooze-fest. Because you see I'm not here, nor was I born to stand around all day, mingling my round behind off while trying to woo one or another prospect that seemed just right for me. No. I was born in war and created for trouble and that's so far exactly what I've provided.
I've succeeded and I've failed. But who cares? I've had fun in the process and I don't hate anyone I've gone against or worked with. Probably because I lack most feelings. But hey, do you really want to hear all this or should I zoom into focus on what I'm up to right at this moment?
With long strides the silver stallion made his way along the riverside. It had been ages since he had haunted this part of Beqanna and he figured it was about time he opened the opportunity for someone he didn't intend to interact with to approach him. It had been a long time coming that was for sure. He wasn't sure if the past would reveal itself or if the new would find interest. He was simply here to allow it and ready for it to happen. It was about time he at least tried to brush up on his socialization skills.
Try was the key word here. He could make no promises that it would happen. So with each step the snow continued to fall, not by his own account. Simply by the true nature of the land; and with every moment that passed a new flake found it's way onto his chrome mane and forelock, clinging lightly until it finally melted away into the thick tendrils of hair. Full black eyes blinked slowly as he continued to walk slowly, gliding over the snowy landscape until finally he found himself under a large willow tree planted by the river. It's then and only then that he comes to a stop, a soft sigh escaping his lips.
How good it was to be out of his large hole in the ground. To be free of the form of Ba'al for longer than a few hours. His muscles still ached and his body trembled with the occasional fit of spasms down his spine, but it was not as painful as one would think. It's as the spasms slowly travel down his spine over and over, lightly so, that he watches the river break with the ice. It's surprisingly mesmerizing and before he knows it the world around him has faded away and only the river exists. He knows that at some point another will break this silence, this curious viewing, but he doesn't worry about that. Instead he continues to focus and watch as he waits for whatever is coming next.
Quit your sleeping, I told you.
"This is a mutha'fuckin' journey we finna go through."
"This is a mutha'fuckin' journey we finna go through."
I've always had a problem of opening my mouth and letting verbal vomit flow through my lips without a single care in the world. I've tried to be the elegant leader. The one with poise and class. But so far ladies and gentlemen, it just hasn't worked out for me. This extreme side of my personality could easily be blamed on the fact that I was forced to age and grow against my will on the day of my birth. I hadn't had the opportunity like the rest to learn how to properly behave.
Though let us be honest. Had I received the same opportunity as the rest of you, I'd be just like you and how boring would that be? It would most likely be one crazy fucking snooze-fest. Because you see I'm not here, nor was I born to stand around all day, mingling my round behind off while trying to woo one or another prospect that seemed just right for me. No. I was born in war and created for trouble and that's so far exactly what I've provided.
I've succeeded and I've failed. But who cares? I've had fun in the process and I don't hate anyone I've gone against or worked with. Probably because I lack most feelings. But hey, do you really want to hear all this or should I zoom into focus on what I'm up to right at this moment?
With long strides the silver stallion made his way along the riverside. It had been ages since he had haunted this part of Beqanna and he figured it was about time he opened the opportunity for someone he didn't intend to interact with to approach him. It had been a long time coming that was for sure. He wasn't sure if the past would reveal itself or if the new would find interest. He was simply here to allow it and ready for it to happen. It was about time he at least tried to brush up on his socialization skills.
Try was the key word here. He could make no promises that it would happen. So with each step the snow continued to fall, not by his own account. Simply by the true nature of the land; and with every moment that passed a new flake found it's way onto his chrome mane and forelock, clinging lightly until it finally melted away into the thick tendrils of hair. Full black eyes blinked slowly as he continued to walk slowly, gliding over the snowy landscape until finally he found himself under a large willow tree planted by the river. It's then and only then that he comes to a stop, a soft sigh escaping his lips.
How good it was to be out of his large hole in the ground. To be free of the form of Ba'al for longer than a few hours. His muscles still ached and his body trembled with the occasional fit of spasms down his spine, but it was not as painful as one would think. It's as the spasms slowly travel down his spine over and over, lightly so, that he watches the river break with the ice. It's surprisingly mesmerizing and before he knows it the world around him has faded away and only the river exists. He knows that at some point another will break this silence, this curious viewing, but he doesn't worry about that. Instead he continues to focus and watch as he waits for whatever is coming next.
TANNOR
demian & padma's demon-morphing asshole of a son
