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 Posted: Thu Sep 20, 2007 4:33 pm
talk2hand A Tisket, A Tasket,
I Think I Ate My Basket
(( Since my services have been so much in demand after the past 2 threads, I'm afraid I'm going to have to raise my prices up to 500K an image. I'm sorry if that breaks all you quester's hearts out there... my wrist just can't keep with the arting ;; ))
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Posted: Thu Sep 20, 2007 4:37 pm
((P.S. No, Doom baby is NOT eaten, he will grow up like every other normal Doom baby and terrorize you :[ ))
Damn it all, if Plague hadn't been right.
She snorted and relaxed, attempting to tame her temper. The foals had taken their precious time in remaining in their baskets, and it had hindered Dia greatly in her everyday tasks. No longer could she simply walk off and find something to entertain her, or kill something... instead she had to either stay behind with the baskets or attempt to drag them along with her. All. Three. Baskets. There had always been the option of just leaving one or all of them behind... but Dia knew Plague was watching. Maybe not all the time, but he was around, she knew it. And when he got the chance, he'd either kill the foals himself or mock her for her lack of motherhood. Probably both.
So here she stood, once again stuck with three silent, occasionally quivering baskets. What the hell was she supposed to do as she waited for them to grow strong enough to leave their boring little homes?
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Posted: Thu Sep 20, 2007 4:47 pm
The tiny being inside of the basket quivered once again, as it heard the large figure standing close by stomp against the ground close to his fragile home.
It had been like this for days... loud noises, growling, even screaming. And then a soft voice would sometimes talk to him, tell him about his Moma and attempt to coo him out of leaving his wicker home. But he wasn't ready to leave, not when that crazy mare was out there screeching her head off!
He loved the soft voice, but it was demanding. It continued to pry and attempt to teach him all sorts of things... especially how to talk. He had tried, really he had, but his small vocal chords were still developing, so his attempt at words came out more as whines and incoherent noises. That had made the soft voice, or Moma, as he knew her as, very happy... at first. But when she realized that was all he could do, the screeching mare came back and started stomping around once again. He didn't like that mare, so he kept his mouth shut from then on.
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Posted: Thu Sep 20, 2007 5:06 pm
He watched on, more than amused.
The dark mutant remained silent as he watched the mare with her baskets. It seemed from the moment she had starting looking after them that she was growing more impatient by the minute. At first, he admitted that the idea of teaching them that young could be beneficial in quickening the beginning stages of foalhood, but Diabetia took it too far. The foals were far too young to develop at such a progressed rate, but she didn't seem to notice.
His eyes focused on the darkest basket, his newest son. Daughters, he didn't worry over, for after all they were females and look at Diabetia and Torment? No threat at all. But a son... now there was something to ponder over, even despite his teacher being a prissy fluff.
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Posted: Thu Sep 20, 2007 5:16 pm
Perhaps she should try to beckon them out again. It had been days since their birthing... wasn't that long enough to remain in a basket?
"Come on, darlings... time to come out and greet the world," she murmured softly, leaning down to nudge against all three of them. "Time to show Moma what strong girls and boys you are, and we can start learning new things, yay!"
It wasn't hard acting sweet. After all, sweetness was Dia. There was no way avoiding that, and after years of parading around as something she wasn't, gentle and caring voices came easily for her... even if the intentions and feelings behind them were less than sweet.
As the baskets refused to even twitch in recognition of her voice, Dia found herself frustrated once again, and stomped her hoof on the ground. "I said, OUT, DAMN IT."
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Posted: Thu Sep 20, 2007 5:27 pm
There was nooooo freakin' way he was coming out now.
The gentle Moma voice had cooed and sweetly commanded him to rise, and he had thought about it, more than he usually did. But the moment that stomping came back, all thought of leaving the basket left his little head.
It wasn't that he was exactly scared of the screeching mare (if anything he was dreadfully curious to see what the crazy thing looked like), but he felt warm and comfortable in his little home, so he intended to stay that way until he felt ready to rise. And, assuming from the way the voice was ranting, the other baskets beside him had felt the same way as well. Either that, or they were clinging to the bottom of their homes, scared to death of the insane female. Either way, no one was leaving, and it didn't seem to make her any happier.
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Posted: Thu Sep 20, 2007 6:14 pm
He rolled his eyes. Typical.
He drug one cloven hoof against the ground, bored with the scene in front of him. Doing so, a couple rats made their way out of his hoof's pathway, and scampered out into the clearing. He supposed they were bored as well, for the stupid little things began running straight up towards the baskets, and the sugary mare they seemed to be constantly attracted to. Well...so much for being hidden.
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Posted: Thu Sep 20, 2007 6:22 pm
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Posted: Fri Sep 21, 2007 5:03 pm
((yayayayay, so I pretty much finished the thread at work today. STICKY NOTES = heart heart heart ))
Her eye caught the movements of the dark furry rodents and her gaze immediately drifted up towards the wooded area towards the direction they'd crawled from.
"Your hiding skills are impeccable, Plague," she drawled out, rolling her own eyes. "Like I hadn't already figured it out that you'd be snooping around?"
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Posted: Fri Sep 21, 2007 5:07 pm
Plague? Where had he heard that name before?
OH! That's right! The Moma voice and the screeching mare had both mentioned him before... and the fact that he and his sisters would one day 'take care of him', whatever that meant. The phrase was occassionally interchanged with the word 'kill', but the little colt was oblivious to the word's meaning.
Curious, he shifted around in his basket in hopes of hearing better, when all at once he felt tiny yet strong little forces shove against the basket, sending him falling back down onto the bottom. Soon, the sounds of gnawing grew in addition to the sounds of scratching, and the tiny foul watched as the small creatures continued attempting to eat their way into his cozy home.
Unable to speak his mind to the horrible things, the colt let out a series of growls, in attempt to scare them away.
Unfortunately, it didn't work.
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Posted: Fri Sep 21, 2007 5:10 pm
Knowing he had been 'ratted' out ((LOL [/corny])) the dark skinned mutant stepped out from behind the tree blocking him, and approached the quartet.
"Is it so wrong that I want to check on my Sweetness?"
His mocking grin widened as he glanced over to see a handful of rats attempting to have their way with the baskets. "I see your son has found his first opponent," he smirked, hearing the tiny growl, "How very... brave, of him."
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Posted: Fri Sep 21, 2007 5:15 pm
Her eyes glanced over his scar ridden body. He seemed almost completely healed from his last.. incident. Would he be a threat to her and her baskets?
She met his grin with a glare of her own, yet when he made mention of the colt, her eyes looked away to see half a dozen rats attacking the three, now rustling, baskets.
Letting out a growl, Dia stormed over and trampled the little annoyances. "Plague, call the little varmints off your children, will you?"
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Posted: Fri Sep 21, 2007 5:23 pm
Wait... what had the screeching mare said? His children?
The colt stared out at the tiny hole the rats had left in his basket, a confused expression plastered across his face as he watched the small beam of sunlight enter his home. He grunted, the brightness hurting his eyes, and used one tiny wing to cover the patch.
He wasn't sure what to make of her words. The Moma voice had spoken of killing Plague, like it was a bad thing, but never mentioned anything about him or his sisters belonging to him!
His thoughts were distracted away from the low booming voice of "Plague", as he felt a warm stickiness clinging to his wing. He drew it back and brought it close to his face and gave the wet wing a sniff, and then a lick. Whatever it was, it tasted good. He couldn't describe the flavor, but it sent a warm sense of delight through him as he continued lapping away at it, cleaning his wing. When the tasty stickiness was gone, he crawled over to the little hole and attempted to stick his snout out of it, his tongue searching for the source of the treat. Of all things, those pesky critters who had been scratching on his basket were the source of the flavor!
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Posted: Fri Sep 21, 2007 5:31 pm
They're not mine to control," he said with a smug smile as he watched her tromp over to terminate the rodents. "You of all mares should know that by now."
Some things never changed.
One eyebrow rose as a tiny little nose popped out of the darkest basket, and a small pink tongue started licking at the nearby squashed rat.
"Starving them as well, I see?"
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Posted: Fri Sep 21, 2007 5:38 pm
She snarled at his comment, then glanced down at the tiny nose nudging its way out. ******** had to eat too, didn't they?
Of course she had nursed them in the beginning (begrudgingly, of course), but once they were stuffed into their baskets, the thought had left her mind. Eh.. they'd only been in there for two or so days... no harm, no foul.
Leaning down, she nudged the basket lids off and dropped one or two of the dead rats into each of the baskets before replacing the lids back onto the baskets with her mouth.
Turning back towards Plague, she shot him a dirty look. "See? I do feed the foals!"
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