06-16-2017, 03:31 PM (This post was last modified: 06-16-2017, 08:47 PM by burr.)
Burr has never been to a party before;
Cannot even fathom what a party is! But for the sake of Beqanna and Burr, we’ll pretend that she ingested some mushrooms and they’ve given her the magical ability to comprehend what a party is and also, to be transported to the biggest and best birthday bash known to all the ponies across the land: Beqanna’s Sweet Sixteen!
Her striped head tilts to one side, the expression on her face is one that is curious and awed. She has never seen a party like this! There are streamers and fairy lights strung between the trees and beneath them, a large table that is more like a giant feeding trough if she was honest. At the head of it, there sits a massive cake that says “Sweet Sixteen” on it and man oh man that cake looks delicious! Seems to be made of some sort of magical grass-carrot-hay-peppermint concoction that she imagines tastes like heaven in her mouth. Not that Burr knows what Heaven tastes like… c’mon, she’s no angel and she’s not dead.
Against the trunks of the trees are all kinds of presents; from things as simple as a handful of nuts to something as massive and sparkly and pony-sized that could be a statue or could be a pony! It’s Beqanna after all, and sometimes she spits up the strangest things like remember all those kings and queens made of dead kings and queens and star-stuff? Yeah, like that! Her eyes go all big and round as all of a sudden sixteen sparkly spirally candles appear one by one on the cake and catch themselves on fire. She can hear other revelers at the party, can even smell them but it seems like she is the only one here to see this.
Who will blow out the cake and make a wish?
Really, she just wants a taste of it… and begins to edge closer only to catch her tail on some funky glittery bow on a present set too close to the trough-table. Burr almost trips and face-plants into the back of the Beqanna-cake but catches herself at the last instant. As a reward, she thinks that Beqanna won’t mind if she just takes a little nibble here…
“Excuse me there!”
Burr jumps back after having only managed a tiny taste of frosting and she has an instant sugar rush to the head as a fairy flits near her face. “Nobody said you could have some cake yet, you must wait!” The fairy swats at her nose and Burr jerks back in surprise, ashamed and hurries back to assume a more proper place at the table with everyone else just in time to sing the birthday song to well, Beqanna, she supposes. There’s a misty shape of something that seems like a world, a horse and a fairy all in one but she really can’t tell, her head feels funny - mushrooms and sugar will do that to you.
Bound for trouble from the start I've been walking through this old world in the dark
The invitation had been whispered in the Meadow and he had no intention of going. What was the point? Parties were joyful, he wouldn’t belong. Didn’t really know anybody either to go with. In the distance he can hear the soft thrumming of a beat, the sound of a tell tale party in action. With a defeated sigh he heads in it’s direction, planning to watch from afar for lack of anything else to do.
When the lights begin to shine brighter between twig and branch, before he can walk inside, a fairy stops him in his tracks. ”Now now, can’t have you being a party pooper.” She giggles before grabbing his disfigured face and putting a cup of liquid to his lips. Before he can refuse, it’s slid down his throat and she’s gone leaving only laughter in her wake. It wasn’t half bad, whatever it is. Slightly confused, he steps inside.
The fairy lights twinkle above him, the music is bumping. He’s handed a solo cup (where did they even find those?) by another fairy and takes it in his hand… Hand? Hold up. There’s a mirror next to a photo booth and he quickly looks at this new Ledger. His not a half bad looking 16 year old kid. A little unkempt, wearing a used dark band t shirt of some kind and ragged jeans. The patch over his eye makes him look like a pirate, a little silly. But his white blond hair falls over it ever so emo like and he admits he doesn’t look half bad as a human.
Now he notices that there’s not a single horse in sight. They have all been converted. And he has no idea who may be who. Interesting. What would these fairies think of next. Not much for the huge crowd on the dance floor, he leans his back against the wall and simply observes. Taking a sip from his cup every now and then. The awkwardness creeps along the wallflower and soon he finds himself looking away. ”This is lame..” He mutters to himself.
When he looks up, there’s a pretty girl before him. She smiles shyly then grabs his hand and pulls him towards the dancing. The music is softer, romantic. Her arms are around his neck and he doesn’t even know how this has happened but she smells like flowers. He closes his eyes and buries his face in her soft hair. Before he knows it, the song is over. She pulls slightly from his embrace, gives him a hard look before leaving a soft kiss on the cheek below his patch. She’s suddenly pulling away, her hand leaving his. ”Wait!” He says, seeing her figure swallowed by the other partygoers. ”I don’t even know your name...”
The fairies are giggling softly but not unkindly. As he leaves the party, he returns to normal and he’s left wondering… Who was she?
When the red eyed ghost is offered the liquid, he takes it willingly. Giving a cheeky wink at the fairy, who gives him a sly smile, he downs the drink in one gulp. There’s no need to pause by the mirror, he already knows he looks good. Unlike his depressing pathetic nephew, Gryffen is dressed smartly. He’s wearing a dark suit and it compliments his pale skin, his red eyes, his long white hair. A few ladies give him some appraising glances and he returns a sultry smile which makes them blush brightly. He hasn’t come to this party to enjoy himself. Not the way they have.
His attention isn’t on these plain girls. He saunters towards the table, takes his time pouring a drink. It’s some sort of punch that he spikes with a small flask that the greeting fairy had tucked into his pocket. At least she wasn't a square. The whisky hit’s his throat, burns pleasantly in his chest and he smiles to himself. Ready for the main event.
When Ledger runs out to find the mystery girl, he’s flirting with another fairy in a secluded area, behind a tree. This one isn’t as pretty as the others. She plays no important role, just another one of many that watch over Beqanna. He doubts she will be missed. Seductive and attentive words, soft touches that graze first over her exposed shoulder and then her cheek. It’s dark and the faint warmth of the fairy lights only enhances the mood. She’s not the brightest little tinkerbell. Surely she knows what he’s capable of. However his charm is impeccable, the role of a gentleman played to perfection.
He’s winning her over. ”You’re so misunderstood.” She says while running her little soft hands up the length of his suit, tugging teasingly at his tie as she pulls him in for a kiss. His lips meet hers and she sighs… Just as he jabs the knife he found by the cake under her breast. She doesn’t scream, she can’t. His lips forcefully push into hers. He pushes harder upwards into her chest. When he finally pulls away, she crumples to the ground. He quickly stoops over his quarry while wiping a trickle of blood from his lips. Rips the back of her dress then carves into her smooth shoulders to collect his prize.
How interesting this is! He wishes he had more time to study her inner workings. The way her wings seems to be attached to her very bones. They are truly a part of her. Glancing up quickly as he works on removing what he wants. Best not to get caught and all that. He’s only able to break off one, he will study it in detail later. Quietly he allows himself to be swallowed by shadows. And as the enchantment wears off, a ghostly figure of a winged horse flits through the dark trees. Carrying something glittery between his teeth.
The sun is bleak, falling beneath the distant haze of the horizon, as evenfall slowly drapes its way over the clear, yet vividly colored sky. A speckling of starlight emerges, framing the bright, gleaming moon – a celestial beacon of light, drawing her out of the shadow in which she had so carefully tucked herself away. The intensity of her wide, glowing eyes peer out from the darkness as the moonlight bathes her dark russet skin in its glow, interlacing with her naturally wavy tresses, which frame her youthful features.
Her curiosity is piqued, and quietly, her long, languid limbs carry her away from the round and dense thicket from whence she came, though her legs are uncomfortably stiff from a long afternoon spent coiled up in such a tightly confined space.
Her chin, slender and pointed towards the sky above, follow the glimmering lights, which seemingly hover in thin air with nothing to tether them to the ground the way that gravity does to her. Her pace quickens to a long, spirited stride, a single glowing orb (pale, but mesmerizingly bright) wavering before her, swiftly weaving through the old, winding branches of a too-old woodland.
With her blood pumping vigorously through the length of her petite, breathless body, and her mind racing, her gangly limbs gear up to a gallop while her breathing comes out in soft puffs – determined, her dark, indigo lips reach with teeth bared, nearly but never touching the sphere, try as she might.
”Please, wait – what are you?” she manages, desperation in her voice, while the adrenaline pulses. ”Wait!”
But it does not wait, and her curiosity begets reckless abandon, and her pace quickens – faster, faster, until –
the glowing globe of light flits away into a dense overgrowth of vegetation, but she is too determined, too close to stop now – and with a great leap, with her front and hind limbs outstretched, she plunges through the dry, bristling foliage after it, tumbling through into a clearing.
The long, spindly horns that lay on top of her head catch onto a string of carefully strung lights, coiling around the tip of one and draping down the length of the other, yanking the meticulously hung orbs of light down around her – and soon, the branches that acted as their perch came down with it, collapsing onto an array of flattened logs (tables, though she knew not what a table was), sending a beautifully, albeit tacky cake (cake? What is cake?) into the air.
Simultaneously and with a yelping cry, she is stumbling onto the ground, a mass of awkward, too-long limbs. She is peering up anxiously at the seemingly dozens of eyes looking at her, appalled, incredulous – some even stifling laughter – when the vibrantly colored, painstakingly layered product of flour and sugar falls from the sky with a great, loud “thud” – perched perfectly onto her two winding horns, splattering pastry and buttercream all around her.
Whispers and rumors about what was actually happening has already began trickling through the lips of residents: the faeries were assembling something, and that alone was enough to send Warrick in search for the crowd. There were excited yips and yells, some sort of melody that pulses with rhythm, and delicious smells that draw him closer. The stallion is surprised to see a few upright walking creatures that mimic the faeries themselves, a soft snort leaving him as he continues to wander slowly and carefully through the crowds.
“There he is!”
A trilling voice shouts in his direction, causing him to halt squarely and raise his head with surprise. “Me?” he responds hesitantly as a faerie, beautiful and light, flutters up to him with glitter and magic flowing from behind her. She rubs the indigo of his velvet nose lovingly, and the stallion was too confused to resist, his brows furrowing in question.
“We’ve been waiting for you,” she says sweetly, turning her head over her shoulder and gesturing to a line of younger-looking faeries (perhaps they were foals turned human for the party, too) that were clasping their hands together with excitement while bumping into each other and whispering. Warrick pulls his chin to his chest, still unsure of what the faerie was requesting. “Come, come, Warrick,” the faerie says gently, a hand on his neck as she leads them towards the children.
He halts before the first in line, staring down at the child with wide yet kind eyes. “Uhh…” he murmurs to the faerie, but she has already draped a necklace of confetti and streamers around his neck and a colorful party hat between his ears. He snorts sharply, wondering how ridiculous he looks, but he had no time to think. The faerie picks up the first child and begins to place her on Warrick’s back.
The stallion slides away, the colorful streamers brushing against him and glittering in the party’s glowing light. His eyes narrow in confusion. “What? No!” he cries, lowering his head and snorting unpleasantly at the faerie. They wanted to ride on him?!
The faerie says nothing and frowns, which Warrick is perfectly fine with, but then the small girl that she was holding pouts, her eyes becoming quite round and large at the realization that he did not want her near him. Soon, she is crying big, fat tears before him, yowling with sadness. The other children behind her begin to follow suit, and the bay stallion steps forward with immediate concern, especially because the other guests were beginning to look over at the commotion. “No, no,” he says quietly with a shake of his head, eyes large with concern. He glances at the faerie who is grinning most joyfully at him and with a sigh, drops his head and allows her to put the child on the broad of his back. The child squeals with delight, stroking his withers and neck with small, excited hands.
06-17-2017, 09:41 AM (This post was last modified: 06-17-2017, 11:30 AM by Tangerine.)
face to the sun
Tang had pre-gamed pretty hard, it was only the polite thing to do, it wasn’t cheap to get a horse drunk.
As it was, she didn’t quite remember getting to the party. But here she was, and she had to piss. She knocks on the door of the house where her uber had dropped her.
Beqanna greets her with a squeal, flinging the door open and embracing Tang with a little jump and squeeze. Liquor spills in Tang’s black hair, but its ok... smells like rum, all good.
“Happy Birthday!!!” Tangerine says with all the excitement she is feeling, which is quite a bit, hugging Beqanna even tighter to her. But more guests are coming in behind Tang and she knows its rude to take too much of the hostess’s time. “Find me later” she says intently before moving off towards a closed door further in the house… looks like it could be a lavatory.
Tang leans against the purple door, waiting her turn.
“I gave you all of me! I live and die at your whim, you light me on fire and I like it!” A girl screams from inside the bathroom, and no one blinks. The world swirls and Tang half falls half sits on the couch. Was there anyone in there with that girl? Shit. What was in these drinks?
She gives him a kiss “Get off me man” he says.
Who is he? Who knows. She leans on the girl on her other side. “What are you at?? I’m at a solid six” Tang yells above the music to her new best friend.
“Whhhaaat?” the girl whispers back.
“whhhaat??” echoes Tang. “Oh,… how drunk are you? I’m at a low key eight?”
“I’m naught drunkk” the girl slurs. “Im a fuckin vikin’”
Tang giggles and gives her a kiss on the cheek. Before standing up again – on the second try.
“Congratulatiitionns!!” she says sincerely to the girl, a little too late.
“whhhhaat?” The girls whispers again, eyes squinting so she can hear better, but Tang is gone.
The dancefloor draws her too wide stare and she glides towards it. The lights swirl, she swirls, the world swirls. Oh, swirls are so beautiful. She’s moving like a goddess, she knows it. That booty rockin’ - she’s feelin’ it. He’s feelin’ it too. Who’s he? He’s beautiful, that’s who he is.
“I don’t take naps” She smiles to the handsome boy.
It’s important to lay a foundation of honesty in new relationships.
He smiles back nodding vigorously with lovely blue glazed eyes. They dancefloor is suddenly slippery, and Tang looks down to see a puddle of blood… and vodka? A crumbled body lays just outside the makeshift dancefloor.
“Beqanna’s friends are fucin heathens!” the beautiful boy says with delight as he watches a murderer (a pale boy painted in blood) skitter away with a part of the murdered in hand.
“NO CRYING IN THE CLUB” someone yells at the body.
html code by Toli, design idea based on "Dovev" by Laura
He tells her "ooh love".
Today was finally there. In the honour of Beqanna’s sixteenth birthday a huge masked ball was held. The ballroom was decorated nicely, no not just nicely, it was absolutely breath taking. The princess kind of ball all girls dream off.
Kylin couldn’t have been more excited. She had been looking forward to it and secretly counted the days. It would be hér day and nobody would be able to take it away from her. Not Father, not Mother and Reily neither. She wouldn’t have to deal with their glances or the worried looks in their eyes. Today it would just be her and Kharon and nobody would be able to stop them.
Another part of the excitement was because of the dress. It had been on the mall ever since she had gotten it. Not even Mother had seen it. She wanted to surprise and dazzle everybody, but also she didn’t want her parents to know it was her. And sparkle it did, though not too extreme. Just a fine, ladylike touch. It was big and puffy, everything a princess dress was supposed to be. Kylin couldn’t wait for Kharon to see her in it.
The music greets her even before she can see the location. In honour of Beqanna the fairies had offered their castle and turned it in one big fantastic venue. A smile tugs on the corners of her painted lips and her hazel eyes twinkle in enthusiasm. Elegantly she makes her way down the stairs. It’s even more beautiful than she would’ve imagined, but Kylin’s eyes never linger too long. She’s looking for someone in particular.
Those grey eyes, that look, and she knows it’s him. Her smile grows eve wider and the joy shows in her eyes. Kylin has to hold back from throwing herself at him, but it takes all she has. She had waited so long for a chance like this one. Tonight would be just her and her brother and nobody would look at them with a knowing, judging look. The masks and costumes would hide their identities completely.
”You look handsome” she tells him softy, blushing and casting her gaze down as he takes her hand to press a kiss on the back like a real gentleman. ”So beautiful” he murmurs.
She giggles, her free hand in front of her face a she blinks up at him shyly. But then, not so shyly. Leaning in she moves her hand from her lips towards his chest, feeling the heat of his skin through his costume. A light kiss is pressed on the corner of his lips, then, standing on her toes, she brings her lips to his ears. ”All for you” she tells him.
They dance all night. But what Kylin remembers most is the warm hand in the small of her back, the brush of his fingers against her lips as he feeds her, and the sheer adoration for each other in their eyes.
According to word 493 words.
Assumed humans were okay since it said we run wild ^^.
I have permission from Toli to ‘use’ Kharon .
He’s quite sure that the forest he’d fallen asleep in had been a very normal forest, but the one he wakes up in is very not normal.
In fact, it’s not even a forest, and the root he’d rested his head on isn’t a root anymore.
Does he have a head anymore?
He supposes he must, but it feels very empty, which must means it matches the rest of his helium filled body.
No longer a young horse, he’s now a lovely balloon. Someone might have thought they were making a horse, but he looks rather like a dachshund, if dachshunds had giraffe necks and only two legs made of looped air. He is bobbing around with a few other ‘horse balloons’, all of them tethered to a chair. The chair is one of several dozen, each of them with their own bouquet of horse balloons. Are they all like him? He wants to ask, but he has no mouth, only a tied off bit of plastic that someone must have thought resembled a horse’s muzzle.
There is a loud SLAM of a door opening, accompanied seconds later by a loud screech.
Ivar’s non-existent eyes search for the source and when he sees it, he knows.
It’s one of them.
There’s one in every primary-school class, the weirdo with the complete Thoroughbred series who can recite each page of the Heartland books aloud. She’s probably got the DVD collection of the television series too. She’s probably never touched a horse, but she can tell anyone (and she does tell everyone) exactly what kind of stable her dream horse will have some day. Her binders are covered in horses, and her notebooks are filled with doodles of horses so poorly conformed that their backs would probably break before they could move. (Her parents tell her she’s an aaahmazing artist). She never shuts the fuck up about horses, and her mortal enemy is the Wolf-Girl (you know, the one whose is exactly the same, but with the silhouette of a wolf howling in front of the moon on all her things?)
This must be her party.
Yes, he sees it now, the cake in the center of the table. ‘Happy Birthday Beck-Anna’ it says in looping purple script.
“Omg, you spelled her name wrong!” says a woman that Ivar assumes must be the Horse-Girl’s mother. The mother has impressive muscles, probably from Krav Maga or from the hours spent wrestling animals during her career as an emergency veterinarian. A large golden retriever wearing a Duke jersey with the name “Reagan” on the back is standing beside her. “It’s BEQANNA. Her name is BEQANNA. I named her after my uber-successful multi-million dollar corporation!”
Ivar has no idea what a corporation is. He's just enough time to wonder what exactly has become of the Beqanna he knows before Horse-Girl sits down in the chair he’s tied to. His jostled string comes loose, and he explodes when punctured on the popcorn ceiling.
Kali had heard birthdays were a pretty exciting thing, though she hadn’t had one of her own yet. But sometimes...sometimes big moments were more fun celebrated quietly. Probably her daddy would not agree with that, because he liked to do everything big and loud and at the top of his lungs. Which was lots of fun and all, but Kali was a much quieter soul than her daddy. So when the big day was almost here, instead of inviting all the ponies in all the lands to come have a big, loud party and make a big, loud mess all over pretty Beqanna’s skin, she snuck away over the water and climbed up the biggest, tallest mountain in the whole wide world all by her lonesome.
And when she got to the top, she found a nice, cozy place to curl up, one where she could see the world stretched out below her, and all around. And she settled in with a tired sigh and a smile. “It’s very far away up here, isn’t it? Does it get lonely? I don’t think I’ve ever been so far away, not from everybody I love all at once. Maybe it’s different, since you’re down there and everywhere too. But just in case it IS lonely up here, I thought I’d come spend some time with you, if that’s okay. I heard it’s your birthday tomorrow, and nobody should spend their birthday alone, right?”
She watched the sun slowly set, watched the sky light up and fade through all the colors of the rainbow, watched the moon rise high into the sky, and all the while she snuggled up and shared the quiet with Beqanna. And when light started to creep up over the horizon to the east, when the sun started to rise again, she softly sang, “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Beqanna. Happy birthday to you.” She pressed her lips to the ground in a quiet little kiss, and whispered, “And many more.”
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