Post by Saββath on Feb 27, 2009 23:10:24 GMT -5
WORK IN PROGRESS
Name: Macabre
Age: Four
Gender: Female
Breed: Thoroughbred X Mustang X Friesian
Color: Buckskin / Appaloosa
Markings: White patch on her hind-quarters, black stockings on each leg, and a charcoal muzzle. Also a black Egyptian-like streak on the back of her left eye.
Alliance: Dark.
Foals: N/A
Personality:
Macabre tends to be a bit more then a cynic, she has no pity for those who complain or cower. Much preferring to quickly end their wasted life and stop their whining. She is fully aware what a wicked witch she is, being born from Lucifer directly - or so she claims. Anyone would the right mind, with any knowledge or sensibility would have chosen her sort of path for who would want to be a part of the weak? Macabre loves to tease and play games, mind games being her select favorite. Since she was just a yearling she had an uncanny ability to mess with others' heads, getting almost anything she wanted. It has made her quite full of herself and having the feeling that the world belongs to her and her only, killing anyone who challenges her beliefs. A wicked witch indeed, but maybe - just maybe you'll find a place in her shallow heart, if it's still there.
History:
Macabre was born into an extremely cruel herd, her mother was the Queen and her father the herd King. She was born with a twin which in her fathers herd was unacceptable. The other cult was already weak because of Macabre's dominance in the womb. It was decided upon who lived and who died by which one could stand up quicker. Macabre, surprisingly stood the slowest and when her brother was triumphantly walking around she immediately kicked him down with her hind hoofs, trampling him when he was down. It wasn't her who killed him, but she made her father laugh and prefer her life more, thus in reaction he ordered her brother's death. She felt no feeling of pity or sadness toward her brother's final moments, but stood by her father sticking her tongue out mockingly. Learning quickly by watching her father's executions and getting more than half her share of apples by tricking the other young ones. By the time she was three she had decided upon leaving her herd, not wishing to be Queen of a dying community. Seeking another, fresh land with new opportunities. When she reached four she stumbled upon Midnight Acres, where her wicked story begins.
Sample Post:ARMAGEDDON
[/blockquote]It's a long way to nowhere
And I'm leaving very soon
On the way we pass so close
To the back side of the moon
{ψ} A few sets of waves thundered and crashed among the shoreline, stretching it's arms to the highest they've been for decades. Thick like train smoke fog continues to roll in, large enough to swallow some of the towering timber's saplings. Out of the sea a beast of immense proportions strode to the shore, his large ebony head was barely visible above the fog. Upon many occasions Armageddon took to the ocean, pushing his strength against the current. As if to mock the roaring sea he turned and reared, kicking at the fog, letting out an echoing neigh that lasted across the cliffs and many caverns for seconds. Any living creature withing a mile would have heard such a call, smirking to himself he watched as multiple birds squawked and flew from their nests. It was too quiet, despite the booming waves, their was no sound of an answering whinny. Not even an angry bear from the forest's edge. Most disappointing and ever yet provoking. Feeling an intense urge to explore, he began just that. Trying to get lost in an area one knows well is harder than it sounds, so thinking of the only way he knew that just might work, the brute closed his bastard eyes and trotted around. At first he felt like an asshole, the sense of having no idea where one is going and the feeling of becoming weak without sight. Ah, but he had his ears of course and luckily for him there was no one to see him stumble around the rocks. Why am I insisting upon acting like such a fucking idiot?! Snorting, he opened his eyes and began to shoot out jabs and kicks into the foggy air, edgy with boredom. The whole reason why he had left his father's herd in the first place was to find a place with edge, with fiercer brutality, with something - anything to do. He might as well end all hope, hope is for sissies anyway. Maybe it was his mentality of thinking, perhaps if he thought he had something better to do than prance around the shoreline he would have something to do... Now that's loony-ville talk. As he walked on he slowly began to hear the echo of his hooves increase, creating the echo to last longer and gradually fade. And there he was, about ten yards away from an entrance to a cave. His curiosity grew, maybe he would find a bear to mess with, taunting such stupid creatures always made time fly. Ducking his head from the barely too short for him ceiling he soon discovered that it wasn't just a cave, it was a cavern. Almost like a maze; in front of him he could make out three different tunnels to choose. But which one? Smirking a smug grin to himself, he immediately chose the far left one for left is what Lucifer would have wanted therefore left is the one he shall choose.
{ψ} With every step of his charcoal daggers followed an echo bouncing off the walls of the cavern, perhaps if one were to stay in such a place for very long they just might go mad. But vile Armageddon could hardly get much more insane. With every pulsing echo a flashback threatened to disturb reality. Pinning his towers to his skull, he gave in – letting the memories flourish. Smirking as he vividly remembered the screaming foals born from the weak, he had been set in charge of watching over the burnings and making sure every bitch and bastard was set aflame. Back in his homeland there were but just two main tribes of beasts; the weak and the powerful. His father, Zeitgeist was ruler of the mainland herd, at the time they were dealing with many weak souls attempting a futile rebellion. All were ordered of disposal, it was an annual cleansing of the tribe. Every lame, sick, weakly – or weak minded beast was sentenced to be gathered and executed immediately. It was the way of life, his way of life. Standing above upon a cliff, he remembered it as if he was there now, seeing the hundreds of horses attempting to escape, begging. The strong do not beg, smiling he gave the final order – an ear shattering neigh.
{ψ} Memories began to fade as he caught sight of a rat from the corner of his eye, scurrying along the cave floor. Calmer he trotted on, feeling a cool breeze twist around his thick mane, the exit must be near. The fat rat came close, within inches from his hooves, what a fatal mistake. Keeping his calm façade he briefly smashed the rat with his hind hoof, the crunch of its skull echoed off the walls. Nearing the exit of the tunnel he could make out a black figure that looked like a horse laying down, was it dead? He listened closely, tuning out his hooves, no it was breathing and it smelled like a sweet maiden. Slowly walking around the maiden so that she was now the closest one to the entrance of the cave. The rays of the sun shimmered against his sweat-stained charcoal coat as he stared down at her, watching her breath in and out ever so faintly. She had many painful looking scars on her underbelly, of what allegiance could she be? His curiosity could no longer stand to be silent. "Are you giving up so easily?" She looked thin, too thin. Her legs looked weak and puffy from over-use and exhaustion, possible malnutrition. Maybe she deserved it... An instance of hate fumed his heart, what if she was one who escaped his home land during the executions? No, no don't be irrational. Patiently he waited, telling himself Lucifer would be proud of his self-control.Hey join the traveler if you got nowhere to go
Hang your head and take my hand
It's the only road I know
Picture: Click[/size][/color][/blockquote]