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06-05-2014, 09:56 PM
“Most who knew me used to call me Bor, like the wild boar, for being pigheaded, stubborn and an asshole,” His voice is soothing to me. Why is he considered these things? He seems perfectly normal and fun. I've not witnessed an ounce of asshole in him, but who knows. Maybe he goes haywire on bad days. I could see where many would think of him as stubborn. I have little trouble imagining Dalibor being like, "No bitches. We go my way," again and again until he gets his way. This is what stubborn horses do, right? They argue and argue until they get their way. That's how I've always imagined it.
"Well, stubborn, pigheaded, asshole, Boar... If you are considered these things, should I imagine you so? Should I imagine Dali with pig-horns being a stubborn asshole?" I smirk at him, letting my more comical side show. "The look doesn't suit you, in my opinion." I pig-horse hybrid named Dalibor. How interesting that'd look. Maybe a really short, fat, horse with a snout instead of a muzzle. Dalibor is too tall and handsome (sexy?) for that look.
My humor isn't accepted by all, and most people do not understand it. I guess that is why I haven't been cracking as many jokes, lately. “Weird and creepy?” "Ohhh, man. I'd say 99 percent of the horses I meet find a way to hate me. I guess I'm weird and creepy because I am different." I pause for a moment, allowing air to flow into my lungs. My sides growing as the air swells in my body. "Helovia doesn't know how to deal with different." I'm honest. No one finds me pretty, special (in a good way, not a "wow, you're special way.), or talented. If they do, they have a funny way of showing it. Perhaps my only friend is the greenish dun known as Slaiter. He had no trouble accepting me for me.
“Show me this fire magic of yours,” A smile slithers it's way onto me porcelain features. "Is this an order, Mr. Combatant?" I look around my surroundings for a moment. This is to make sure nothing around me is flammable. It'd be really bad if I set off a huge fire. "I'd strongly recommend stepping back." I give Dalibor about five seconds before me body ignites. The fire coming from within me. I've embodied the flames. I've turned myself into a torch. "You may be stubborn, Dali, but I'm hot-headed, irrational, and over dramatic... and weird and creepy." My flames start to die out and the smell of smoke is obvious. I'm hot-headed, and got fire magic to prove it. No one wonder no one likes me. I'm crazy.
ooc:; sorry for lack of table
"Well, stubborn, pigheaded, asshole, Boar... If you are considered these things, should I imagine you so? Should I imagine Dali with pig-horns being a stubborn asshole?" I smirk at him, letting my more comical side show. "The look doesn't suit you, in my opinion." I pig-horse hybrid named Dalibor. How interesting that'd look. Maybe a really short, fat, horse with a snout instead of a muzzle. Dalibor is too tall and handsome (sexy?) for that look.
My humor isn't accepted by all, and most people do not understand it. I guess that is why I haven't been cracking as many jokes, lately. “Weird and creepy?” "Ohhh, man. I'd say 99 percent of the horses I meet find a way to hate me. I guess I'm weird and creepy because I am different." I pause for a moment, allowing air to flow into my lungs. My sides growing as the air swells in my body. "Helovia doesn't know how to deal with different." I'm honest. No one finds me pretty, special (in a good way, not a "wow, you're special way.), or talented. If they do, they have a funny way of showing it. Perhaps my only friend is the greenish dun known as Slaiter. He had no trouble accepting me for me.
“Show me this fire magic of yours,” A smile slithers it's way onto me porcelain features. "Is this an order, Mr. Combatant?" I look around my surroundings for a moment. This is to make sure nothing around me is flammable. It'd be really bad if I set off a huge fire. "I'd strongly recommend stepping back." I give Dalibor about five seconds before me body ignites. The fire coming from within me. I've embodied the flames. I've turned myself into a torch. "You may be stubborn, Dali, but I'm hot-headed, irrational, and over dramatic... and weird and creepy." My flames start to die out and the smell of smoke is obvious. I'm hot-headed, and got fire magic to prove it. No one wonder no one likes me. I'm crazy.
ooc:; sorry for lack of table
Success isn't the result of spontaneous combustion.
