{{diary -of- a .:k i l l e r:.

[».d.r.e.a.m. [ღ]]

CAUTION. Please keep all legs, hooves, ears, tails, and other bodily parts within the tram at all times or risk having them severed from your senseless body. Buckle up, enjoy the ride, and welcome to a nightmare.

So, you're still on the tram, then? You must think there's something worth seeing in here, and perhaps you're right, or maybe you just have a deathwish. Either way, you are about to see confidential information. Refrain from spilling this information to outside ears... if you value your life...

Lights
Stallions
Mares
Fillies
Colts

Neutrals
Stallions
Mares
Fillies
Colts

Darks
Stallions
Tombstone's Revenge - thirteen - crossbred - landless
Mares
DreamWeaver - two - crossbreed - unclaimed
Fillies
Colts

[».d.r.e.a.m. [ღ]]

WARNING.
The following information is for a murderer's use only. Use of said information of individuals outside of this diary without permission will result in the bloody massacre of any and all who steal. Proceed with caution.

[b][u].x.GENERAL.x.[/u][/b]
.x.[b]I[/b] [b]a[/b]m [b]K[/b]nown [b]A[/b]s:
.x.[b]S[/b]horten [b]I[/b]t [b]I[/b]f [b]Y[/b]ou [b]D[/b]are:
.x.[b]A[/b]sk  [b]F[/b]or [b]T[/b]he [b]S[/b]ex:
.x.[b]S[/b]ummers [b]T[/b]hat [b]H[/b]ave [b]P[/b]assed:
.x.[b]S[/b]ide [b]O[/b]f [b]T[/b]he [b]H[/b]eart:

[b][u].x.BODY.x.[/u][/b]
.x.[b]M[/b]ain [b]C[/b]olor [b]O[/b]f [b]T[/b]he [b]C[/b]oat:
.x.[b]M[/b]arkings [b]O[/b]ver [b]T[/b]he [b]H[/b]ue:
.x.[b]C[/b]olor [b]O[/b]f [b]T[/b]he [b]L[/b]ocks:
.x.[b]H[/b]ue [b]O[/b]f [b]T[/b]he [b]E[/b]yes:
.x.[b]H[/b]eight [b]O[/b]f [b]T[/b]he [b]B[/b]ody:
.x.[b]B[/b]loodlines [b]I[/b]n [b]T[/b]he [b]B[/b]uild:


[b][u].x.PERSONAL.x.[/u][/b]
.x.[b]S[/b]tate [b]O[/b]f [b]T[/b]he [b]M[/b]ind:
.x.[b]L[/b]ook [b]A[/b]t [b]T[/b]he [b]P[/b]ast:
.x.[b]H[/b]ome [b]I[/b] [b]C[/b]all [b]M[/b]y [b]O[/b]wn:
.x.[b]F[/b]eel [b]O[/b]f [b]S[/b]aid [b]H[/b]ome:
.x.[b]P[/b]osition [b]W[/b]ithin [b]T[/b]he [b]H[/b]arem:
.x.[b]T[/b]he [b]O[/b]ne [b]T[/b]he [b]H[/b]eart [b]W[/b]ants:
.x.[b]R[/b]elation [b]T[/b]o [b]S[/b]aid [b]O[/b]ne:

[b][u].x.FAMILIES.x.[/u][/b]
.x.[b]M[/b]other [b]W[/b]ho [b]C[/b]arried [b]M[/b]e:
.x.[b]F[/b]ather [b]W[/b]ho [b]M[/b]ade [b]M[/b]e:
.x.[b]S[/b]iblings [b]W[/b]ho [b]S[/b]hare [b]M[/b]e:
.x.[b]T[/b]he [b]O[/b]ne [b]I[/b] [b]S[/b]tand [b]B[/b]eside:
.x.[b]F[/b]oals [b]W[/b]ith [b]M[/b]y [b]B[/b]lood:
.x.[b]A[/b]dopted [b]A[/b]s [b]M[/b]y [b]O[/b]wn:

[b][u].x.RELATIONS.x.[/u][/b]
.x.[b]T[/b]hose [b]I[/b] [b]C[/b]rossed [b]P[/b]aths:
.x.[b]T[/b]he [b]O[/b]nes [b]I[/b] [b]T[/b]rust:
.x.[b]T[/b]hose [b]I[/b] [b]D[/b]islike:
.x.[b]O[/b]n [b]M[/b]y [b]H[/b]itlist:


[».d.r.e.a.m. [ღ]]

.x.GENERAL.x.
.x.I am Known As: Tombstone
s Revenge
.x.Shorten It If You Dare: Tombstone or Tomb
.x.Ask For The Sex: Stallion
.x.Summers That Have Passed: Thirteen
.x.Side Of The Heart: Dark

.x.BODY.x.
.x.Main Color Of The Coat: White
.x.Markings Over The Hue: Black stockings, blaze, and patch on his shoulder.
.x.Color Of The Locks: Black
.x.Hue Of The Eyes: Dark Blue
.x.Height Of The Body: 17.3hh
.x.Bloodlines In The Build: Arabian x Quarter Horse x Paint Horse x Friesian x Rocky Mountain


.x.PERSONAL.x.
.x.State Of The Mind: That would have to be something that changes quite consistantly. In the beginning, he was mentally deranged, perhaps more so now that he is alone in his body. The stallion craves bloodshed and anguish, finds delight in others pain, relishes in the fading of life from one's eyes... yet the brute leaves it as just that. A mutilated corpse, for the buzzards to eat and to announce to all others the deed that's been done. Quite cynical, this boy is, belligerent as well. Traits all inherited from his parents themselves.
.x.Look At The Past: Born on the lands known as the Scarred Warrior, out of a mare named Apocolyptica to a stallion named Spiritspawn, Tombstone was at the up most advantage. Formerly called Tombstone's Revenge at that time, he was born with a twin sister, Tempest. His father, Spiritspawn, was the Feared One of the land, Tempest was named the heir because she was the more dangerous of the two. Living in his sisters shadow, the two were inseparable, despite his jealousy. The two rough housed frequently, and at one time, Tempest reared and struck Tombstone in the center of his skull. He fell, unconscious, for a few hours, where his new and deranged world arose. When he awoke, he'd found himself mute, and refused to talk. A war was arising against his father, thus the darks were gathered in an army around him. Tombstone was told to remain as far away from Naussica as possible, because Naussica was destined to become his lover. The colt soon disregarded his father and snuck off, away from Tempest, with the filly. She was the first one to help him find his voice. Soon after, an earthquake struck the Scarred Warrior and killed Spiritspawn and DreamWeaver went into grieving, staying behind at their herd land ruins, while the survivors went on to find the new lands. Tempest became Feared One, though Naussica talked Tombstone into taking the throne, thus resulting in him murdering his sibling. His mind became more warped, and his actions unpredictable. After having a foal born to him from a mare other than Naussica by force, he went truly insane, and found his way to these lands, where his persona was forgotten and his other part of his mind took over, naming him Raisur, and Tombstone's Revenge lies in the shadows of his mind, the two often conversing, that is, until they split. Raisur went into a wolf's body, leaving the equine one to Tombstone - it was only fair, since it was Tombstone's body in the first place. They had crossed many lands, leaving their homeland far behind, and crossing paths with many. One mare is the sire of his foal, though he knows nothing of the resulting child or the mare, and it's a detail of such miniscule importance that he forgets it ever happened. Of course, he met Wiccan's Rede and Midnight Sonata, and nature took it's course. Now, Wiccan's his lover, Sonata's Raisur's lover, and Skyelark is the evidence of Wiccan and Tombstone's deeds. The two were left behind after Tombstone departed, straying to these lands.
.x.Home I Call My Own: None
.x.Feel Of Said Home: ---
.x.Position Within The Harem: Loner
.x.The One The Heart Wants: None on the lands
.x.Relation To Said One: ----

.x.FAMILIES.x.
.x.Mother Who Carried Me: Apocolyptica
.x.Father Who Made Me: Spiritspawn
.x.Siblings Who Share Me: Tempest (deceased)
.x.The One I Stand Beside: ----
.x.Foals With My Blood: ----
.x.Adopted As My Own: ----


.x.RELATIONS.x.
.x.Those I Crossed Paths: None
.x.The Ones I Trust: None
.x.Those I Dislike: Many
.x.On My Hitlist: Everyone

[».d.r.e.a.m. [ღ]]

.x.GENERAL.x.
.x.I am Known As: DreamWeaver
.x.Shorten It If You Dare: Dream or Drea
.x.Ask For The Sex: Mare
.x.Summers That Have Passed: Two
.x.Side Of The Heart: Dark

.x.BODY.x.
.x.Main Color Of The Coat: White
.x.Markings Over The Hue: Chestnut Overo
.x.Color Of The Locks: White, chesnut and black mixture
.x.Hue Of The Eyes: Icy Blue
.x.Height Of The Body: 14.2hh
.x.Bloodlines In The Build: Arabian x Quarter Horse x Paint Horse x Rocky Mountain Horse


.x.PERSONAL.x.
.x.State Of The Mind: Now, you know the angelic appearance, what about the demonic behavior? Belligerent. One word that describes it all. A yearning to fight, a want to feel the flesh of another tear between my dentals. Strong willed. Don't push me, I'll fight it. Another word for strong willed-thick headed and stubborn, so don't try to get your way with me, I'll always have it mine in the end.
.x.Look At The Past: A small, fragile body lay silently in the grass. White stained brown, the painted colors showed vibrantly in the lush, tall blades that surrounded the form. A beautifully dished Arabian styled head rest against the ground, eyes of the purest, iciest blue concealed behind brown eyelids. A short, puffy tail was motionless on the ground, equally short mane stood up on the arched neck like a Mohawk, not a forelock to be told of. The grass folded up, like a cave, hiding the small body from view completely, so only sight could be seen from within and not the outside. What stood behind the shelter of a grass nest was something the poor youth should never have witnessed.

Just outside the nestled body of mine was my dame, Sata. Her elegant Arabian head lowered to the ground, her nostrils flared as her breathing was deep. Her dapple grey hide shown dully, her lengthy tail draped behind her in defeat. Lengthy forelock rolled straight down her face, her brown eyes closed. Blood was poured over her body, emerging from huge cuts, kicks, bites, everywhere over her body. Her legs spread apart for better balance, with every ounce of strength she had left, her voice rang out. You'll never find where I've hidden her, nor will I tell you. Her voice was strained, like it hurt her to talk. A maniacal laugh echoed from my sire's mouth, and it was the first time I got a good look at him.

His body was the darkest of browns, his mane the lightest flaxen. Not another color graced his body, and his long locks swayed in the breeze. On his muzzle was the blood of my mother, his eyes of dark brown glaring down at the mare. I will find her, and you will die. Those weren't his exact words, yet that was all my mind could make out. One mighty leg lifted, striking Sata's side harshly, and the mare fell to her side. Another leg raised, the stallion was now rearing. With all his force, his weight slammed down on the fragile skull, and a sound so violent rang out in the air, a scream, cracking bones. Death. The first sounds of death that I'd ever hear, but not the last.

The stallion's nostrils flared, his deep brown eyes glaring about the clearing. I lay stock still, not a muscle moving, my breath held, until the muscular stallion disappeared. Many moments later, my wobbly legs lifted the minuscule hide of myself, petite hooves carrying me to the side of Sata. I didn't understand, my muzzle pushing against her side, willing her to wake up, to say everything was fine, that it was a joke. Three days of life, and my mother was gone. I knew she wouldn't rise come the sixth day, and I felt weak, ever so weak. When the wolves came, they dragged my mothers limb body away, and I made to follow, until the fangs of the beasts flashed before my eyes. With a squeal, I'd turned sharply, and fell....

I tumbled down an embankment, my sides throbbing with aches. My ears fell to my head, and I made no attempt to rise. A slight snort came from my muzzle, my eyes remained sealed. Locks swayed, though short, in the breeze, my flanks sunken in, my ribs showing clearly. So young, so malnourished. A fate I wouldn't have come to should my father have found me. Slowly, my legs unfolded, pain striking every fiber of my body as I struggled to stand, and weakly walked. A stallion, the blackest of manes, a golden body, greeted me, and I was soon adopted by the beast. He showed me no discipline, life was a free game for me. Borgon was his name, and he was mine. I'd tell him what to do, and he'd do it without a minutes hesitation. It was love, I'd say, love for his adopted daughter.

However, a new mare came to become his lover. Lucky, a pure Quarter Horse, white in color. She stole my dad's heart, became lead of the herd. I resisted her efforts to tame me in vein, she wouldn't break my spirit. I tried everything to break her, to get her to leave Borgon. But she wouldn't. Finally, the mare had made one good move. She adopted my sibling, Distemper, who was the darkest of colts I'd ever come across. He had a blood bay color, a charcoal hued mane, and he was diabolical, like me. Together, we'd slain many foals, driven horses to insanity, slayed like there was no tomorrow. There was a price on Distemper's head, not mine, because I was seen as an all too innocent baby girl, too angelic to do such a thing.

As time went on, the Thestral Lord, Nightshade, met me. He delivered the news that Distemper had fallen, destroyed while protecting me from a force I didn't know. I was drawn into denial, a yearling now, without my beloved sibling, my partner in crime. On one such occasion, I crossed paths with Rendition, a black colt, who like me, had been adopted into a foster home. I'd fallen head over hooves in love with the colt, and he did with me. We were together for a while, though some bad connections had been made at times, and we were enemies at others. But always we returned to the cutest couple. That is, until the one thing happened that ended it all. That Thestral Lord, Nightshade, force bred me, and a filly was born. She died of malnourishment, I didn't want anything to do with her, and Redemption didn't think too highly of that.

I'd crossed paths with many wolves, and wolves didn't scare me until this one encounter. The beast lunged out at me, his fangs catching my leg, ripping the tendons inside, forever damaging the leg from the inside, though a scar doesn't meet the eye. Infection had set in, I'd been dazed like a drunk, unknowing of what I was doing. With the help of a mare, and Rendition, I'd made it through, to stand at where I am today. The wolf, however, is not so lucky. I'd killed him in that battle, the battle that almost got me sent to live with humans so I could heal. He'd payed the price for that bite, but I'd payed a painful one as well.

At two years of age, I'd lost many that I held dear. Rendition and I never met again, we'd strayed on different paths. I, dark, and he, neutral. Crimson died a death apart from me, a dear little friend of mine, whom I hadn't met in a while before the death. Fool's Pride, a little colt who was obsessed with me, had also left us in life, he in death, to follow the steps of his sister, who's name I can no longer recall. Maudit fell before the power of Avanti. Curse Avanti, I must kill him someday. Borgon and Lucky I haven't heard of in months, I do believe they as well have passed on. Nightshade disappeared after loosing his crown, though I hear he is trying to regain the title. Spork and Spartan fell to my wrath, both to be killed by my power and my power alone. There are others, yet I never learned their names, and quite frankly, didn't care.

It doesn't end there, however. I continued to roam from land to land, seizing all titles that went with it. Upon Windborne, I was dubbed Queen of the Jetty Alliance, due to my ruthless fight against Rebirth, whom I've left as Queen once more, upon leaving those grounds. The lands of the Bosses, I'd been the Supreme Queen, the leader of all alliances, and not only one as so many usually are. I've lost my fair share of battles, as well. just goes to show no one's unbeatable. The rest, however, I also forget, as when years go by, things tend to disappear alongside it. There were the werewolves I befriended, more that I'd killed, others I'd defeated in a brawl, but not another love... or so I thought.

Upon straying into a new land, the Scarred Warrior's land where the Feared One called Spiritspawn ruled, I challenged the Friesian brute for a battle to the death for the title. Alas, he was too good, and an offer was made that I declined. Later on, I went to meet him, and seeing as how powerful he was, devoted myself to his services. He'd have none of that, he said I was too good for that. We became lovers, shared two foals - Tempest and Tombstone's Revenge, twins, now deceased, as is Spiritspawn. That's where my love circle lies, but my story doesn't end there.

The Scarred Warrior became my number one priority, determined to return it to it's once buzzing activity, to have it as it was with the wars and the fear, but my efforts were all in vain. I met a few interesting equine on the way, but soon grew bored, and I find myself here.
Appearance: Holding an Arabic appearance, I normally have an arched serpentine and highly held plume. With two large audits, normally found plastered in their graves, and two sapphire orbs that can seem irresistable. A dished tiara, and normally dialated nostrils make up my facades. A petite form, standing at merrily fourteen three, and slim, long limbs. Tresses flow from their joining point in my serpentine to the upper limb joint of my forelimbs. Plume scrapes the topography, and licks my hocks. A picture of perfection, yet an attitude that doesn't match. A forelock that, when straightened, goes just above the nostrils. Yet the foretresses usually curve to cover one sapphire orb, the other azule surface to gaze out at the unknown.
.x.Home I Call My Own: None
.x.Feel Of Said Home: ----
.x.Position Within The Harem: ----
.x.The One The Heart Wants: ----
.x.Relation To Said One: ----

.x.FAMILIES.x.
.x.Mother Who Carried Me: Sata
.x.Father Who Made Me: Tronde
.x.Siblings Who Share Me: Blood Rose
.x.The One I Stand Beside: No one
.x.Foals With My Blood: None
.x.Adopted As My Own: ----

.x.RELATIONS.x.
.x.Those I Crossed Paths: Thanatos
.x.The Ones I Trust: No one
.x.Those I Dislike: Few
.x.On My Hitlist: Everyone else