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Post by Kcx on Jun 13, 2009 19:49:46 GMT -5
SPITE
[/size] .hating NO ONE else.
DARK[/size] .hiding DICATIVE secrets.
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Post by Kcx on Jun 13, 2009 19:51:17 GMT -5
Name: Spite
Nick Name: None Yet.
Age: Six
Breed: Friesian
Alliance: Neutral
Breaking The Habits
Color: Black
Markings: He does have a white diamond on his forehead, symbolizing that his mother was a white Friesian. He also has a scar that seems to go right through his left eye.
Appearance: Spite mainly usualy looks managled half the time. His sides usually bears scares; since he was alwyas on the run, he always got attacked by something at sometime or another. He always seems proud of them for some reason. He's very muscular, which somehow always attracts the mares, thinking they'll have great foals and he'll protect them from anything. He's very tall for his breed, too. Most are suprised at this, knowing some Friesians can be smaller than what he truely appears to be. Mpst ignore his, though, not wanting to be messed with him because of his size and wounds. Well, they must not know his true personality, looking at only his scars and mangled appearance, along with his bulkyness.
Height: 16.3 HH
Personality: Spite is what you would call a true loner. He dosen't like other company what so ever, and is considered an outcast because of his past. He tries to ignore what ever speech possible, and tends to stand on the side lines when he's around other horses. He keeps to himself, trying not to let anyone into his past when they try to talk to him. It anoyys him all the time, other Equines trying to envade his space and personal life. But you know what? He deals with it. And to him, so should you.
Leave Out All The Rest
History: It all started when Spite was barely five months old. He still needed his mother that young, being born not too long ago. Both his mother and father were the leads of a very powerful horse herd. His mother, a rare white friesian, had came from a horrible place where she was abused and such before coming to his father's her, where she soon found love. But that didn't matter to Spite. He was loved, and that was all that counted. He had plenty of friends, both young and old. He had plenty of food and water. Enough space to run around in. A great father that loved him dearly, unlike some of the rest. Yes, he thought he had the good life, one of those rare ones. But soon, that all ended in tragity.
A rouge stallion came into the herd, only a few hours before it was to rain. He was brown, and had many scars across his body, symbolizing that he had been in many battles and had proven him self worthy. Just as any other lead stallion, Spite's father went into defence mode, pawning the ground and flaring his nostrls. Spite stayed at a distance, hiding behind his mother with all the other horses. He had a gut feeling his father would win this one. He jusr knew it. But he seemed wrong.
The rouge was there in a flash, kicking and lashing and biting. Few stallions went to help his father while the others tried to drive the rest of the herd away. Spite wanted to stay. He had to stay. To help his father. He easily escaped the precence of his mother, getting out of the stampede. He stood severl yards away from the fight, many stallions some how wounded. And there, to his anguish and fright, it happend: the stallion attacked his father one last time, knocking his father over. The worst thing was that, even though Spite called and called to him, his father never did return to his feet to fight on as he always did in a mjor battle.
Someone - never knew who, exactly - was able to turn him away as he cried tears of sadness. Soon the rouge took over the herd, chasing away all stallions and colts who would and could appose him. And for a victory, he tried to kill Spite while he was still young, chasing the young colt as he ran into the blinding rain. Spite knew that his mother could do nother to help him. He was doomed to be killed off. He escaped luckily, but with a scarred left eye. Many stallions of the herd who wanted to keep their home hid out in the nearby forest, planning on how to over throw the rouge. Many older stallions, though, left with the younger and defenselss colts, knowing it would be pointless to try and fight off that powerful of a stallion. Spite stayed behind, many stallions promising that when they won that he would get his spot as lead when he grew older. But he never got a chance. All were hurt or wounded. Many slaughtered where they stood.
Soon, the survivers went on their seperate ways, leaving Spite to fend for himself. They knew he still needed his mother, and that he couldn't survive, anyway. With one last look, Spite off running with tears. He swore he'd never find another herd of his own. he ddin't want his life taken like his father's. He didn't want to loose it all. So for many years, he traeled alone and heart broken, becoming a rouge like the one who killed his father. He forcebred mares, making sure they were pregnat before heading off and leaving them to take care of his young. Many called him a monster, others, the devil. Most thought he didn't have a heart. When it came to choosing sides, he didn't choose either Light nor Dark, not wanting to get in the major conflict of it all. But it depends on what you think to him.
Will you be able to sooth this savage beast?[/size][/color] |
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Post by Kcx on Jun 13, 2009 19:59:59 GMT -5
Name: Dark
Nick Names: Tourcherer, Black Beauty, Dark Chololate
Gender: Mare
Breed: Friesian
Age: Three
Alliance: Dark
Fainting On The Outisde In
Appearance: Her coat is of the purest black, giving her the name "Dark Chocolate" or "Black Beauty," which is her most famous. She is but a beautiful vixen, of which no stallion can resist. She has stunning blue eyes, of which can lour even the most stubborn stallion into her grasp. Her ivorys show a shining white, as if she tries to keep then beautiful. She appears to be the one with noe markings, as if her coat scared them all away. She is slender, and is able to bare as many foals as she can produce. Most stallions fight over her because she seems to perfect, but she enjoys this every single bit.
Markings:
Height: 15.0 HH Even.
Personality: Most say she's a btich. Others, a whore. She usualy only mates for pleasure, some how never getting pregnat. She's glad she looks beautiful. She just loves stealing Stallions from a herd, them leave them to die after she's finished with them. She's somehow smarter than most, though not as strong. She's usually able to sweet talk he way out of things, and usuaully into things. Most who meet her on first account think she's some sort of angle. Others who've known her all her life think she's a drag. Either way, she doesn't care. All she does is go along with what the wind tells her. She doesn't care about what other Equines say about her. In her eyes, they never do anything about it to stop her and her ways. So she just lives with it. She enjoys it.
And she doesn't let anyone get in her way.
Leave Out All The Rest[/u] Dark never had the worst life yet. Her mother was force bred by a large stallion, saying he'd love her for eternity and help her raise the foal. And after just a few months of being pregnat, he left her suddenly, not saying a word about it[like anyone?]. Her mother was left to care for her by her self, having a herd that didn't really care for each other much. Of course, she didn't care about that one bit. But just a few days after Dark was born into the world, with her pure black fur and her beautiful eyes always gleaming at people, her was was killed by a pack of wolves. The pack had came out of nowhere, as Dark now recalls, attacking every Equine that came into place. Her mother had fallen easily, still weakend from giving birth to her one and only daughter.
Dark was lonely, tired, and malnurished by one week's end. She looked like some rag doll nobody wanted around. A few mares lent in some help, feeding her from time to time. But she rarely took their pity. She rarely took anyones pity. Just like her father, most people said. By the time she was sixe months, hardly big enough to be called healthy, she began teaching her self to eat grass and other "adult" items to grow bigger and stronger. Everyone seemed to be putting her down, and she was tired of it. She knew she had to become one of the best in order to survive this place she called Earth. She knew she couldn't give up, even for an instant. She tried hard to become strong, to show the others what she was made of. And as she had said many times before:
"Like hell will I let some bastars tell me whether I'm going to survive or not. I am the only one who decides whether I live or die, you mother fuckers"As the few years past, she grew steadily, every ounce of her body turning into pure beauty and muscle. Many of the colts who thought she was worthless now fought over her, wanting to claim her when she was older. At the age of two, she began pleasure breeding like some prostitute, always leading young stallions into the forest to they could mount her and say that they once pleasure bred a beautiful young mare. She never chose them as a mate, though. Oh no, she just let a few stallions rape her from time to time, always gettinf them into trouble because of it. Yes this pleased her. And at the age of three, she went off in search of the right mate to help her lead a dark army. Yes, she grew up in hate and dispear, and learned how to trick stallions into doing what she said. Yes, she was a monster. A pure monster. Will you be the one to join her?[/color][/font][/size] |
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