can i?

[sonata]

Get a tryout thread critiqued? Atrophy is gunna audition for dark king.

[Scream.[Collision].]

hmm I dont know :[

I just help with coding really... actually im alazt Co Admin lol

maybe we could critique a different post and you can take our words of advice to write your tryout post?

[sonata]

mkky.

[sonata]

This is from a Stallion I rp on my site.


It didn?t take long for boredom to overcome the frame of the crimson beast, his minds powerful wheels churning and grinding elaborating on his plans in causing his small harem to erupt into the kingdom of his dreams. It involved more wenches, powerful ones, slaves wouldn?t help other than to give his unborn spawn a nest to rest in until they could claw their way into the earth and be whisked away from the slaves to be raised by the true Satan following wenches. Oh how lovely it would be to watch the lights be destroyed, especially the stupid slaves ? because you know that taking their precious little infants from them will be like sticking bamboo shoots under their fingernails. As for the other lights, the stallions that wandered about, professing love to every mare they came across ? the death and destruction of those would come later. To continue the growth of his small harem, his crimson carcass would have to leave the boundaries of his rolling sea of hills and prowl the lands, seeking new blood thirsty wenches. First off he was off to the mountains that a majority of the mares came too on their first entrance to the many lands of galloping free, the Mares Claiming Mountain they called it. He, for one, despised these lands and everything about them but he knew that moving through them was necessary, for he had found Aiko here, so it was possible to find some decent wenches. It was, again, the stupid heaven kissers that made these lands so unbearable. Watching them together was enough to make an equine puke ? which yes, is an oxymoron seeing as equines can not regurgitate in any sense of the word. A storm was coming; the sky gave visible signs - the increasing amount of grey clouds, the soft zephyr turning into a periodic gale force wind, and the air ? you could simply taste the small drops of liquid that would soon be drenching all the equines that stayed without cover. In the case of Chairo, the deep crimson hued Arabic stallion, rain bothered him not for he actually found it a wonderful thing, as would any sane equine that had spent so many seasons wandering to and fro through the desert, whether you live or die depending on the timeframe of the next Oasis you would stumble upon. His frame stood concealed by the shadows cast off from the high sitting vegetations. The large beasts waved their gentle hands, the wind pulling off their insulation, sending the tiny coverings twirling and dipping down through the oxygen until the settled onto the topsoil, resting in a peaceful position until the next gust would come and send them spinning off again. It honestly was quite a sight to see, nature in its best ? the trees waving their arms, the vegetation under foot cowering in fear of the storm, the small winged seraphs quiet for once as they focused on securing their small homes from the storm that was too come. The first clap of thunder was one that shook the lands, the sound causing all the small animals to cower and the heaven kissers to startle, letting a anxious snort escape their paper thins and their towers to send them rocketing off to find a safe hiding spot. Shaking his high set crown in disbelief at the actions of the imbecilic creatures, Chairo stepped forward, his carcass still cloaked, now from the darkness of the storm rather than the showers cast by the giant beasts of vegetation. It didn?t take long for a flash of lightning to illuminate his Egyptian frame and the frame of three others standing in a group on the other side of the plateau. The thick scent of the aqua that was about to torrentially drench the lands hid the scent of the three others, and as he stepped forward, he knew not who these others might be. These three had to follow the devil or else they would have run off to find a spot to cower in like the rest of the heaven sent ones ? that gave them all points, even though he had not heard a word yet. ?Ahh, so she is here also.? His muttering was under his breath, and with the others being up wind, his words were lost on them. The words of the bitch whose territory ran adjacent to his own were heard, she was standing with another bitch, this one apparently being up for claiming and a stag he knew not of but assumed was the third and only other terrain owner of the dark lands. He knew that there were other dark stags wandering the vast expanse of Galloping Free, but none of them had gotten enough of a head start to find a wench to their liking, keeping them from claiming one of the three dark terrains left up for grabs. It took no longer than he thought for his frame to appear next to the others. The strong hands of the wind had hold over his whipcord, its ice cold fingers running pleasingly through the long span of tendrils that fell from his boa ? the wind was such a powerful force, there was no use fighting it, if you did it would make you miserable, whereas just letting it caress you would end up being quite pleasing. With crown raised high in the typical Arabic stance, his dark chocolate illuminators darted between Scelerius and the other stag, nodding slightly before returning to the other mare, an Arabic like himself, possibly even along the same lines of Egyptian heritage. His liquid orbs ran over her body, assessing the lines to determine if she was noticeably flawed. Of course they were all flawed in some way or another, or else they would all be the same, a boring and disturbing concept. After a pause, his larynx rumbled, allowing words to slip through his rubber caps. ?Chairo. And you are?? His voice was noticeably soft for one that followed Satan; it often surprised those that noticed the cruel, cold beauty that was carved into his features. Again he paused, waiting for the screaming of the wind and growling of the thunder to die down, for nothing could be heard over that entire racket. ?Shall we not draw this out? For I am sure that you all are just as fond of long drawn out things as I am.? The sarcasm was heavy in the second portion of his speech, for darks were known for quick and easy claiming. Why draw out something that could be done in a few simple portions of speech?


ooc;; Its slightly long (1,110) but i hope its not too much of a ramble, i have a tendency to get carried away.