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Post by Byrdlet on Aug 31, 2012 16:22:03 GMT -7
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Illythia :: Female :: American Saddlebred x Warmblood x Ahkal Teke :: Ten :: Angletus Queen
Sernutarzi :: Male :: Oldenburg x Mustang :: Eleven :: Rhazorn
Atilla :: Female :: Arabian :: Eight :: Rogue
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Post by Byrdlet on Aug 31, 2012 16:29:03 GMT -7
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____________________________________________________( the basics ) age • 10 gender • Female species • Equine breed • American Saddlebred x Warmblood x Ahkal Teke sexuality • Straight dominion • Angletus ____________________________________________________( a little deeper ) personality • Illythia is inwardly depressed and often views the world as grey and lacking of promise in any regard. However, she puts on a strong show for those that follow her. But daily life for her is a struggle and some days are better than others. She refuses to allow others to see her weaknesses though thoughts of suicide plague her mind frequently. Illythia is one of the more depressed souls one could seek to find. The air is colder around her, the sky turns cloudy over her head, the grass withers where she walks, and so on. Or, at least, it does from her dismal perspective. Life holds no joy for her any more; where there used to be a spark of life and playful rebellion, is now just the broken shell of a withered soul. She could probably cheer up, if she wished to; at least to the point where she no longer entertains suicide on a regular basis, but somehow she doesn't seem to bother trying to get better. The only thing she holds onto is the hope that her long lost love, Asher, will come back to her and they can live out their lives together once again.
likes • moonlight, the smell of clovers, the chatter of birds, kind hearted horses who are eager to please, orchids, the rush of stream water on a hot summer's day
dislikes • extremely hot days, being left alone, the cry of wolves, dying/dead trees (they make her sad), the unrealistic concept of 'happily ever after'
weaknesses • Asher (any opportunity to find him), not a fighter in the physical sense, rather naive in the ways of trusting others as she is very weak and longs for a friend so can easily be outsmarted, plays with the idea of suicide if left alone for too long with her own thoughts (very low self esteem)
strengths • clever and sharp witted, when in the right mind set she can have quite the silver tongue, somewhat manipulative when necessary ____________________________________________________( on the outside ) pelt color • Double Cream Champagne eye color • Light blue height •15.3hh weight •When healthy--1,000 ; currently---870 markings • She had vine-like markings swirling around her legs, wider purple ones underneath slimmer turquoise markings scars • None significant enough to notice general appearance • Illythia is a staggering double cream champagne and carries the elusive satin gene. She is also heterozygous for silver dilute gene. Turquoise vine-like spiral markings starting at hoof and going up until fading with wider purple streaks underneath twisting around legs. Blue galaxy orchids grow naturally in sporadic rows of her mane and a single string growing from her tail. As she is sick and malnourished, the flowers wilt but when she is in good health, they are vibrant and lively. Light blue eyes. Currently, Illythia is rather emaciated and so her coat does not glisten as it should and her ribs are visible...her face is rather sallow as well. ____________________________________________________( the background ) history • Illythia was born into a family of privilege, bearing the title of princess since birth. She was given any and all things her heart desired and was a dear friend among all others in her alliance. She was well-educated, taught how to harness and master her tasks and responsibilities at a very ripe age. She was outgoing and vibrant---charming and endearing on all levels. But despite all she was given, there was one thing Illythia craved more than anything--the freedom to love.
For as long as she could remember, she had been tethered to a young and noble steed which her parents had selected for her. She had never met him and was bound and determined to never see such union take place. She loathed the idea of the betrothal and wished to select her mate of her own volition.
She would linger for hours on the elysian fields watching the normal herd members embark on their daily lives. How she envied them and their freedom to go and do as they pleased. They never had to concern themselves with disappointing the king and queen who watched Illythia, their only child, so closely.
One day, as she remained perched upon her normal lookout, she spotted a handsome seal bay brute wandering through the canopied forest. His name, she learned, was Asher and it was love at first sight. She sought the stag out that evening when the rest of her kin had retired and the two strangers quickly became intertwined in a fiery love affair. Asher was perfect--so charming, raw, and adventurous. There was never a dull moment and Illythia never wanted it to end.
After much deliberation and inner turmoil and several months of gallivanting about with Asher, Illythia decided she no longer wanted her fancy lifestyle and would much rather find eternal happiness with Asher. Illythia approached her mother and father, telling them of the decision she had made. Naturally their disappointment was imminent and naive Illythia was heartbroken not to have received her parents' blessing. But she was truly unaware of the complications it would bring down upon her and Asher when they ran off together. Illythia's dam, Licinia, whose charm and over abundance of friends being her greatest of strengths, told Illythia, "This beast is no good for you, my child. If you leave this kingdom, great hardship will befall the two of you, leaving but withered and jaded shadows of the youthful things you stand as now."
But Illythia did not listen--scoffing at her mother's words. She turned her back on the kingdom of her birth, forfeiting all responsibility. She found Asher at the gate, her face lighting at the vision of her true love and the life that waited for them. A stallion from Exhaltia and a fallen princess from Angletus---but Illythia did not care.
But his own visage was creased with worry--something did not feel right. Asher was a superstitious fellow and as he watched Illythia leave her homeland he could have sworn he heard the voices of the gods in his head telling him why a fool he was and how he would suffer. He shrugged it off, blaming the heat and lack of sleep building up to this day.
But Asher went downhill quickly, the voices in his head plaguing him constantly---be they real or simply the stallion's mind slipping after losing his family in the disaster that left the world only a fraction of what it used to be. One afternoon, he could take the taunting whispers no longer and requested he and Illythia seek refuge in a cave system where he hoped to escape the madness. Dying to help Asher, Illythia conceded to the request.
They stayed in the dank alcoves just outside her homelands for weeks and Illythia craved the sunlight though she did not complain. Asher seemed to be doing somewhat better although his sleeping patterns were bizarrely irregular.
One night, Illythia felt Asher rise from her side, awakening her with a startle and so she followed him as he walked out of the grotto. Just across the way, a herd of deer grazed beneath the pale moonlight. Before Illythia could smile upon the serenity of it, however, Asher raced towards them in a red fury, slaughtering several of the animals before they could escape. Illythia cried out and ran to Asher's side, begging him to wake up and when he did, the blood of the innocent beings on his hooves and splattered upon his chest, he began to sob. "The voices, Illythia. They have driven me to madness." Those were the last sane phrases Illythia heard from the stallion for days thereafter.
She knew it was her responsibility to take care of the stud and she tried to help him any way she could. But it got to a point where whenever she tried to stand in his way, his violent craze would be unleashed upon her. But she always tried to save him, stop him, protect him from himself. But she was only left with more bruises and scars.
Sometime later, Illythia learned of her parents death, the world as everyone knew it ended for good and she was left as their only heir to take their place. But when she informed Asher of this, he said nothing. She resigned herself to leave for home the next morning to fulfill her duties as the leader of a herd and empire much different from that belonging to her parents.
When she awoke, preparing to wake Asher so they could leave together--she discovered he was no where to be found. He had vanished in the night, abandoning her in her own time of need. Reluctantly, she made her way back home, vowing to seek Asher out as soon as she was able. ____________________________________________________
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[color=005522][b][i]talking[/i][/color][/b]
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Post by Byrdlet on Sept 11, 2012 18:42:41 GMT -7
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this chapel of ritual smells of dead human sacrifices from the alter bed
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[style=text-align: center; font-size: 10px; font-family: verdana; color: #8B0000;]( the basics )
name • Sernutarzi {Tarzi} age • 11 gender • Male species • Equine breed • Oldenburg x Mustang sexuality • Heterosexual
dominion •Rhazorn
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[style=text-align: center; font-size: 10px; font-family: verdana; color: #8B0000;]( a little deeper )
personality • Sernutarzi is a brute of a stallion and is feared by many that stumble across him. He lives for a life of violence and thrives of the pain of others and is often aroused at the thought of winning anything. He accepts any challenge and is extremely prideful and cocky. He mocks others and doesn't believe that many can match his own intelligence. Tarzi thrives on carnal urges and is aroused at the taste of blood on his tongue. Very much a playboy, he typically has to beat females off with a stick. He enjoys raping them when they flaunt themselves too much but is also extremely careful because he fears spreading his seed in the wrong way could lead to problems later on. The children he does have are his weakness though he has not seen them in some time. He is terrified of terminal illness, having averted a terrible virus years ago. He loathes weakness, in his offspring or in strangers. He is a very thoughtful stallion and can be considered quite manipulative. He hates hot days due to his pitch black pelt. He can sometimes be sentimental but it is a side of him that is hardly ever seen. He is typically very witty and clever with a silver tongue.
likes • blood, violence, fighting, sex, rape, mares, snow, autumn, thunderstorms, stealing, darkness, power, being in control dislikes • hot days, being taken for a fool, summer, other stallions, disrespect, weakness, cowards, betrayal weaknesses • his children, sex, picking a fight, an opportunity to swap 'licks' strengths • great leader, decent father, problem solver, knows how to get what he wants, never backs down, confident
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[style=text-align: center; font-size: 10px; font-family: verdana; color: #8B0000;]( on the outside ) pelt color • Black eye color • Carnelian (red-orange) height • 16.2 weight • 1,000 markings • Faint silver streaks through mane and tail scars • Many battle scars but none with a significant enough story to tell general appearance • Tarzi is a menacing black stallion whose pelt is exceptionally shiny as though he were constantly wet. His eyes are a vibrant shade of red-orange and they seem to glow deeper in color when he is angry. Glistening silver streaks run through his mane and tail. His hooves are pitch black and though his body is covered in small scars all over, there is not one more prominent or worth mentioning more than another. He is of muscular build, stocky like his Oldenburg father but quick and spry like his Mustang dam. His voice is deep and horrible like a smoker's, but there is a high-pitched undertone as though some twisted spirit within him speaks in unison all the time. [/style]
[style=text-align: center; font-size: 10px; font-family: verdana; color: #8B0000;]( the background ) history • Tarzi's early history is not necessarily the best place to start. He was born into a small herd later killing his father and assuming his place as lead stallion. Not much caring to tend to his mother and other family members he carried on and found himself in a land far away from where he was born. It was there that he carried out his life and set out to make a name for himself. Not long after arriving, he caught the attention of many. His terrifying aura led some to run in fear and others to be drawn to him like moths to a flame.
He quickly claimed land in the dark territory and his followers trailed after him with an undying loyalty. Only a few months after settling in, Tarzi had a herd of 20 horses and mares swooning to be his second in command. He fought and won the battle for dark king and moved his herd in. Naturally, Tarzi simply could not just appoint one mare as 'queen.' It was far too cliche and had simply been done before. It was a little bit too much of an archaic way of thinking and Tarzi always liked to think of himself as an innovator. So instead of one mare, Tarzi selected three and the trio was known as his "Fates." They each had equal power but none more powerful over the lands than he. And each was expected to bear his offspring within one year of being selected.
The first Fate to provide him with a child was Ammut and she gave him Ronove, a strawberry roan colt. This pleased Tarzi. The second was Awica, who birthed a snow capped filly named Valen. And then there was Sookie, who gave him a weak son born in winter known by the name of Balthazar. The best mother of the three was Awica, a stoic leopard fae who lived to raise her children and those of the other fates who failed to truly care. Tarzi had no part in their upbringing and only came around on occasion.
Tarzi dominated the dark lands, the finest king the dark territory had ever seen. But this was not enough for the power hungry brute. He wanted more. The thirst for control quickly pushed Tarzi into the thought of taking over the light realm. And so---with a simple beckon, he ordered his trusted friend to fight the light king. The brute won and was elected 'Dark Ambassador' of the light lands and followed the command of the dark king, Sernutarzi from a distance, checking in often with his leader.
But Tarzi's family began to slowly fall apart. The power had driven him mad and he watched as Ammut ran away with his first born. Awica vanished and Sookie he had not heard from in months. After getting into a terrible brawl with his two sons, Tarzi saw it fit to leave the deserted land behind to seek something new.
In his travels, he picked up a brutal virus where lesions on his body would form, bleed, and disappear and the stallion dropped weight quickly. He stayed put in a system of caves until he nursed himself back to health and continued on his journey, finding this new land in which he could start fresh. [/style]
[style=text-align: center; font-size: 10px; font-family: verdana; color: #8B0000;]on this night of ritual, invoking the master to procreate the unholy bastard [/style] [style=width: 450px; background-color: #0e1621; height: 3px;][/style] [/size][/color] [/font] [/blockquote][/blockquote] [/td][/tr][/table][/center] [center][table][tr][td][th][cs=3][rs=3][atrb=border,0,true][bg=000000][/center] [center][center][IMG]http://i752.photobucket.com/albums/xx168/bmbyrd/tarzi-1.png[/IMG][/center] [font=script][color=8B0000][size=7]SERNUTARZI[/font][/color][/size]
[blockquote][blockquote][font=timesnewroman] [color=FF0000][center][size=2] POST UNDERWAY!
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Post by Byrdlet on Sept 19, 2012 19:10:58 GMT -7
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[style=text-align: center; font-size: 10px; font-family: verdana; color: #8294aa;]( the basics ) age • 8 gender • Female species • Equine breed • Arabian sexuality • Bisexual
dominion • rogue [/style]
[style=text-align: center; font-size: 10px; font-family: verdana; color: #8294aa;]( a little deeper ) personality • Atilla is gorgeous and she knows it; onlookers could call it vanity. She's extremely dominant, especially when in the presence of stallions. She does not percieve mares as a threat and often cares not to try to dominate them. This short mare is constantly trying to prove her strength and use. She's an adrenaline junky, always looking for her next, "high." Atilla loathes water, mud, puddles, rain, and ice. Basically anything to do with liquid, besides quenching her thirst, overly irritates her. Small creatures that scurry also annoy her and must be squashed at all costs. She is mortified at the thought of becoming pregnant and also avoids this with her life. She is irritated by opposing herds and predatorial animals and often seeks dispute against cannibalistic horses. Atilla does enjoy a few things. A deathly hot Autumn decorated by falling leaves is at the top of her list. Battle falls in nearly beside that in the list of things that bring her joy. She's constantly seeking anything entertaining and exciting that can keep her attentions for longer than a few minutes. Atilla is mostly friendly but views most everything as a kind of contest---battle of wits, strength, etc.
likes • hot autumn days, fighting (with words or brute force), thrill seeking, being right, her own reflection, triumph at stomping small animals dislikes • water, mud, puddles, rain, ice, 'wetness', anything that will dirty her 'perfect' appearance, the thought of pregnancy or being a mother, yearlings weaknesses • Atilla is short and that can often hurt her in the arena, she is not terribly strong strengths • in the ways of stamina, Atilla excels, she is also quite agile and swift in her movements [/style]
[style=text-align: center; font-size: 10px; font-family: verdana; color: #8294aa;]( on the outside ) pelt color • here, include mane and tail if equine eye color • Dark dark brown----nearly black height • 15hh weight • 890 lbs markings •Blaze, three stockings (front right is without) scars • She has scattered scars all over her body, some more prominent than others general appearance • Atilla is a very rich bay with extremely prominent black points. Her mane and tail are pitch black and very full with a natural sheen. Her coat glistens and she almost always appears to be cleaner than everyone else. Her three hooves which bear white stockings are a delicate peach shade and her stocking-less hoof is a slate grey in shade. Her build is quite feminine, considering her Arabian background and she possesses muscle definition in all the proper places. She is a curvy mare with an attitude! [/style]
[style=text-align: center; font-size: 10px; font-family: verdana; color: #8294aa;]( the background ) history • She was named after a famous human legend. The exact story was unclear to the horses, having been recited to them by a horse that once lived in domestication. She was prophesied to be a colt of great power and prosper. Even when born female, she was still given the planned male name. Her body and mind matured at a young age and she was quick to fight the aging Lead Stallion. She took the position of Lead Mare by force at two years of age, quickly taking over the herd and exiling the defeated male leader. This act broke many senseless rules that the crazy old horse had come up with and the herd loved her for her leadership, guidance, and protection. She found a wonderful high in taking care of the herd. Helping to raise the foals was her bliss. It wasn't long before she led her herd to war against the herd of the Neverending Desert (a territory of high power; populated by the mustang breed that lay beyond the mountains, river, and shallow sea.) They had been coming at the end of every Spring to collect the first born females from the youngest mares of the Hidden Meadow (Atilla's herd of Arabians). Now that Atilla was in charge, she would stand for this no longer. She collected the most skilled fighters and led them off to war. It lasted three years and the Hidden Meadow's herd eventually assumed that they had won the battle but lost their beloved leader, since no one returned home or ever bothered them again. Everything that Atilla had seen during the war changed her. She became a blood thirsty murderer. She was mad with power and celebration on the way home; she wanted to keep fighting and would chase down and kill any horse that was not a part of her few remaining army members. Eventually, after chasing wayward horses, she became lost. The remaining followers began to doubt her judgement and either left her or died trying to pursue her. Soon only Atilla was left and she came across a country of three different alliances. She still believed that she was on the journey home, but seeing all the power to be had was far too tempting to simply pass by.. Within the ends of the apocalypse, Atilla swiftly and mercilessly took the role of Western Queen from a mare named Basilisk. She ruled at the Dark King Splint's side on the agreement that his say would be law. She would supervise the days in the Western Horizon while he would do nights (due to his poor eyesight). The pair was quick to make enemies and slaves but seemed to have difficulty keeping herd members. Atilla was constantly wandering out of the territory in search of new play-toys and random fights. She fought and came out victorious over challenges for her position twice, or three times.. She lost count. She caught a disease that nearly killed her, caused by the conditions of the apocalyptic world changes that left her mane a bit uneven from stunted growth. She ended up shriveling slightly when Splint died suddenly in a thunderstorm and just as swiftly as she took over the title of Queen, a buckskin stallion named Kenu took over the Western lands and the title of King. She stayed for a while but it never felt right. After some time had passed and finally left to feel no power or purpose she left her rank as Western Queen and wandered around herd-less for many months. She travelled for nearly a year and found a new country which consisted of the same beliefs but became categorized as an outcast. That land seemed to fade and die, and with it went her patience. She moved on once more..
Atilla lost the goal of returning to her original home, the herd of , with only reminisces of the blissful days choked out by the violence and war twirling in her memory banks. This new country was heavily populated and interesting. She wandered in with a delicately pretentious smile across her body language. It was a smile that tried to hide a mischievous and vindictive delight. What trouble could she stir up here? Who could she ally herself with in order to be most entertained? She was getting old and this was a serious decision. There were five dominions to choose to associate herself with but they were all petty and filled with back-stabbing, manipulative imbeciles. That was, of course, in her opinion after having ruled over her own constantly scheming demons in the past. She could never pretend to be able to fit in with those horses. She needed a place of her own... with horses that used their heads rather than fell into mindless categories simply for the unrealized desire to conform. In the lands of Vixentile she was a rogue.
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