Post by Dreams are all that find me... on Mar 24, 2007 19:26:33 GMT -5
Name" Dying Dreams
Gender" Stag
Allience" Dark as his obsidian pelt
Color" Black as his soul has become is his coat, and his banner and whipcord match the void this curse has made of the tormented brute...His orbs were once a warm brown shade, yet they darkened with his soul...
Age" Six years, though he does not necessarily proclaim the fact...
Breed" Friesian
Height" Somewhere over 17 hh
Parents" Both dead. His father was slaughtered in punishment before his death, and young Dying was forced to kill his mother, pity he didn't do it fore she hissed that curse at him... His mother was Dark, and father was Light...
Siblings" None. That he knows of.
Personality" Dark, cruel, morbid. He is rough, and tries his utmost hardest not to care.
History" Dreamer, death lies in the curse
Hopes will fade and dreams come worse
Dying, relief lurks in the dark
When will you turn, heart bare and stark?
Let your heart grow cold, my son
Let others weep when the day is done
Why should they dream when you cannot?
And once you fall, your soul's been bought...
I send this kiss with my last breath
To stain your heart, cause of my death
Try your sire's way... but just for now.
One day, before you, darks will bow...
That is the curse his mother spat at him moments before she died. It contains his life, as she bound him to that fate...
Roleplaying Sample(NOT optional)"
He intoned. [/color][/center]
((From a thread on Dawn...))
Picture(optional)" I'll ask Vita before I use her pic here...
Gender" Stag
Allience" Dark as his obsidian pelt
Color" Black as his soul has become is his coat, and his banner and whipcord match the void this curse has made of the tormented brute...His orbs were once a warm brown shade, yet they darkened with his soul...
Age" Six years, though he does not necessarily proclaim the fact...
Breed" Friesian
Height" Somewhere over 17 hh
Parents" Both dead. His father was slaughtered in punishment before his death, and young Dying was forced to kill his mother, pity he didn't do it fore she hissed that curse at him... His mother was Dark, and father was Light...
Siblings" None. That he knows of.
Personality" Dark, cruel, morbid. He is rough, and tries his utmost hardest not to care.
History" Dreamer, death lies in the curse
Hopes will fade and dreams come worse
Dying, relief lurks in the dark
When will you turn, heart bare and stark?
Let your heart grow cold, my son
Let others weep when the day is done
Why should they dream when you cannot?
And once you fall, your soul's been bought...
I send this kiss with my last breath
To stain your heart, cause of my death
Try your sire's way... but just for now.
One day, before you, darks will bow...
That is the curse his mother spat at him moments before she died. It contains his life, as she bound him to that fate...
Roleplaying Sample(NOT optional)"
The dark hellion raced onwards, teeth gnashing in fury. Things hadn't seemed to be going his way lately, although the little damsel he had discovered in the meadow seemed quite an intriguing prospect...in a murderous way. Little spurts of water erupted about his irons as he turned his chassis into the water. He pressed his chest into the lapping waves, letting them wash against him and, figuratively, into him. The waves seemed to carry away, at every ebb, his fury. Indeed, they sucked at all of his emotions, leaving him calm and controlled once more.
Emotions. Such worthless things. They clouded your judgment and made you unfit to function. The world would be much better without them. Come to think of it, why didn’t those idiot Lights put their energy to that, instead of spreading the bloody things. Uh, uh. Rage was back. Now that was a useful emotion. It was the one out of the myriad ones that spun through the equine race that actually seemed to have a purpose to aid in something. Thoughts swirled on this subject in his thought-box. Emotions. Such a familiar subject to his mind.
He left the liquid, and shook slightly, sending glittering droplets cascading from his onyx hide. The moon shining down made a mirror out of his slick pelt. He grumbled. Dial swung around to survey the surroundings, and the dark windows caught the sight of a mare. She wandered the area, her demeanor distracted and dreamy—a pang touched his mind. But he could also sense the malice hiding beneath her façade. Stilts began moving again to carry his carcass to her.
d**n. A white stallion reached her first. He hated arriving second, like a latecomer. Hate. Now that was another constructive feeling. It had a purpose to fulfill. Dear gods, he was getting reflective wasn’t he? He needed a diversion from his thoughts, so he finished his journey to her. Dark orbs swept over her fine frame and he returned them to her gems.
Hello, vix. Dying Dreams of the Plateau of Despair.
[/i]Emotions. Such worthless things. They clouded your judgment and made you unfit to function. The world would be much better without them. Come to think of it, why didn’t those idiot Lights put their energy to that, instead of spreading the bloody things. Uh, uh. Rage was back. Now that was a useful emotion. It was the one out of the myriad ones that spun through the equine race that actually seemed to have a purpose to aid in something. Thoughts swirled on this subject in his thought-box. Emotions. Such a familiar subject to his mind.
He left the liquid, and shook slightly, sending glittering droplets cascading from his onyx hide. The moon shining down made a mirror out of his slick pelt. He grumbled. Dial swung around to survey the surroundings, and the dark windows caught the sight of a mare. She wandered the area, her demeanor distracted and dreamy—a pang touched his mind. But he could also sense the malice hiding beneath her façade. Stilts began moving again to carry his carcass to her.
d**n. A white stallion reached her first. He hated arriving second, like a latecomer. Hate. Now that was another constructive feeling. It had a purpose to fulfill. Dear gods, he was getting reflective wasn’t he? He needed a diversion from his thoughts, so he finished his journey to her. Dark orbs swept over her fine frame and he returned them to her gems.
Hello, vix. Dying Dreams of the Plateau of Despair.
He intoned. [/color][/center]
((From a thread on Dawn...))
Picture(optional)" I'll ask Vita before I use her pic here...
