U N B R I D L E D;; Rise of the Dead
« Adlar and the fiends »
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Heart and limbs and blood all work together: your mind ticks away. Skin shakes. Suddenly very aware of every thing and the electricity which vibrates under your hide, which jumps from tendons and bones and curves through You. It is magic. There are others like You. And here, You roam the land Unbridled!
Next season will be SUMMER.
Each season lasts one month in real life.
The seasons change on the first of every month.
Foaling is allowed in all seasons, except winter.
Heart and limbs and blood all work together: your mind ticks away. Skin shakes. Suddenly very aware of every thing and the electricity which vibrates under your hide, which jumps from tendons and bones and curves through You. It is magic. There are others like You. And here, You roam the land Unbridled!
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Meoww
Joined: Feb 2009 Gender: Female Posts: 1,821 Karma: 42
Adlar and the fiends « Thread Started on Feb 12, 2009, 10:48am »
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He looks up at you, a simple statement. Stallion, you infer.
How many years have you seen on this earth? “I have survived 7 passing of the seasons, though time matters little to me now. I live every day as if tomorrow would be the day I die. But age? What is age? I have no age now.”
He licks his lips. Comfortable in your presence. What makes you look this way? “My sire was a thoroughbred, fast and agile. Mt dam was an Irish draught, strong and noble.”
You admire the combination, impressive. Built like a horse of many terrains. You try and catch a glimpse of his allegiance in his eyes. It was clear, a light. Proud of it to.
Do you have a home, El Faune? "I call the Crystal woodlands home, lead stallion."
You observe him. You take note oh his appearance, and arrive at these conclusions: A dull red roan with shades of blue/silver shimmering in the light every now and then. Becomes very noticeable when the lighting is pure/more reflective i.e. snowscapes and desaturated foliage. But to you he looks like a chestnut with flaxen mane, long and wild, always played with by the wind.
You feel like you can breathe when your near him. Feel like the air around him waits for his command, leaves the dust on the ground when he walks. Air, he is the air. Pure and wise, the source of life.
Strong build, mane and tail are shockingly lighter than the rest of him, and like the sneaky tints to his coat, his mane and tail possess the same quality. His neck and face have more prominent qualities of a red roan, due to the more refined muscles in that area. Also noted, a faint red stripe on left side and blaze running down his crafted muzzle. With your thumb high in the air and tongue slightly rolling to the side, you size him up, all 17hh you conclude. He towers over you, almost intimidating, but he is gentle and he is kind. He has wisdom in his eyes and a powerful aura about him.
His nature is much like a cold breeze illuminated by the misty glows from a pale sun above. The ground on which he walks is blessed by his heavy foot falls, the nature that is his home welcoming his presence. Each step radiates with energy, aura splaying out from his hooves. His first impression is usually well remembered, but pay to much attention to the details wallowing around in the minds he meets and a feeling of a Stallion long lived creates the mystery surrounding him today. Not one of his encounters can recall more then a full paragraph on what they know about him, but the words used to describe what impression he left are endless. Wise, kindred spirit, powerful, purity, healing, enlightened, strength. Perhaps his mind races a little to quickly, and the intellect which he has been gifted with often causes trouble, he is a composed creature before your eyes. Secrets are being held due to his presence, and his silent confidence can all but leak out into a manifested form. An honest horse, prefers the violence in justice to the violence in unreasoned action. He is not afraid to hurt feelings for the sake of reaching a higher truth, not afraid to love, not afraid to fight, not afraid to be the one in front, not afraid to be the one behind, not afraid to be the one you remember or the one you count on. He has a taste for knowledge, but don't count him as a complete bore. He escaped into the realm of imagination and meditation more often then he should, but always comes back to his balanced self seeking out the meaning of life by paths of spirituality, forever advancing towards enlightenment. He has recently become rather impulsive, though he is seeing this as acting upon fate.
You pull your self together, gathering your senses. He looks to the side, seeing something that only his eyes are able maybe. He exhales and keeping his head and neck on the same level, turns his gaze back upon you.
You persevere. Where do YOU come from?
“I come from Spain. My first generation had been imported there from Germany, in a time when humans called us their masters. We were used by the nobles up until my generation, when my family took off after a particular battle in which our lords lost. Invaders from across the border, the land in which our family had been kept was completely burnt down. Nothing left, our masters bodies scattered amongst the charred remains. Blood soaked into the ground, poisoning the land to the point of no return, no longer could my families souls stand amongst the wasteland. They took off and formed a herd with some local loners, that kind of thing. Couldn’t take the utterly deafening melancholy of it all, their sullen faces boring into me, their hearts unable to let go of the past and move forward, though the sun shone brightly upon their faces, and after my brother was killed in a fight that I hadn't tried to stop, it all became enough. So I took off living as a lone stallion for many many years. I wanted to get something out of the isolation, I wanted a sense of the world others didn’t have. I wanted enlightenment, knowledge, I wanted to share it with whatever herd I chose to place myself amongst. I once spent an entire year standing amidst ruins, the roof completely lost to time, but from the rubble a cherry blossom had sprung, and it shared its life with me.
I am a constant traveler, a real gypsy you could say. Only I am the caravan and the pack mule. I have lived with other herds, I have shared my life with them, none of it suited me though. So here I am, testing the waters of herd life again. This time the elemental powers are not sheltered, and are able to blossom and spread. Its scary, and dangerous, but this is where I am now. I am looking for something, but I don’t know what it is yet….”
You’re at a lost for words, feeling like anything you care to say next means nothing. So you ignore his misty gaze and continue with the drilling
family? “I have told you. Noble horses. Boring herd. Dam, Sire, Brother, dead. They lived with no heart, and allowed their instincts to drive them off the edge. I used to blame myself, but no longer....you can only change yourself afterall”
His strangeness creep up on you, and you decide this light belongs in a category all his own. The El Faune’s of this world will forever keep it spinning on this axis, you decide. Without a farewell, you take your leave, behind you a strong light watches you go.
Faune's proxy:
I S I L D U R
Let my heart be wise
Name: Isildur [ee-seal-door] Breed: Snowy owl/Canadian Lynx Power: Invisibility Gender: Male Personality: Isildur is strong, but he is silent. He is wise, but he is peaceful. He is the advice on the wind that whispers in your ear and plays with your hair. He knows not what lies are and speaks only the truth, and it is often his words that cut through the haze in Faune's mind when he steps off the path. They are one and none shall doubt this fact. He remains silent in most of Faune's company, only choosing to stare through eyes of yellow and mind of serenity. His spirit is old and his mind enlightened by immortality's gift. He is said to have no fears and awaits death without hesitation nor a flinch in his body. He is a reflection of Faune's soul without flaws, and humble in his presence. He's not often compassionate for others, but he believes that all darks shall find the light one day. He is unflinching to challenges, but his guard is set on high and his trust belonging to only one. He is always seen walking side by side with his friend/companion/soul/horse Faune, unwilling to leave his side nor linger behind. He can see through lies quicker than Faune and will often whisper on the wind of their false tongue. He despises ignorance, vanity, and materialism as Faune does, but he cannot truly hate the holder of these flaws. Quirks: He is nocturnal and sings to the moon and wind during night, high upon the tallest tree while Faune sleeps below. He is said to talk to the trees while he perches upon their branches, and listen to their gentle voices and their pains. He also enjoys bringing dead mice to Faune or who ever he is talking with, dropping it by their feet. He likes to speak in riddles to anyone other than Faune, not caring whether they understand what he is saying for true wisdom will find the truth, and others will pick out what they want his words to mean. His voice is breathy and sounds like the wind and the moan of the trees, low and subtle like the rumble in the earth. pictures:[Lynx form] [Owl form][Kudu form]
--------------------------------------
T h e e s e n t i a l s
mares:Rune, Anvera Foals: none yet Element: Air(MASTER) bending: Master Air Master Healing Master Dream Bending Advanced Water Advanced Life Bending Intermediate Emotional Control Intermediate Space Ghost Speak Residence: Lead of Crystal Woodlands Shape shifting: Polar bear, Red Deer, White Timber wolf Age: Immortal (7yrs) Coat and mane: Dull red roan, some strange silver blue roan patches shine like blue and red tints when a pure light source hits him. His tresses are shockingly white, with brown flaxen roots that end midway.
T h e t h r e a d s Peace be unto you -claims Rune Come with me -Practice your talents -Unofficially meets Keelie and Medusa -Attacked by Keelie in her crocodile form while attempting to save her, and suffers brain damage -Medusa arrives and saves him, when he comes to he falls in love with her to due to his 'brain damage' and her lies. -She tells him her name is Madai, and he asks her to come with him to light lands Can you see my reflection in the dark? -Faune and Madai journey to his home together -Jericho comes in -Awakens Faune and reveals the truth about 'Madai' -Medusa bites Faune in process he will turn immortal -Passes out -Wakes up, realizes he is immortal and leaves the light air lands to find Medusa Far from home -claims Anvera Forgive and Forget -Meets up with Anvera in his home -Anvera is stolen! Faune swears he will get her back The Tale of a Sacrifice -Enters serpent's pass to find Medusa Dancing with Crystals -Finds some wanderers in his home
Picture by the lovely Alliete =D
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Meoww
Joined: Feb 2009 Gender: Female Posts: 1,821 Karma: 42
Re: Adlar and the fiends « Reply #1 on Mar 1, 2009, 4:23pm »
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---------------------- T h e e s s e n t i a l s
Name: Elidhu[Ah-leed-hu] Age: As old as the mountains themselves (Immortal Goddess, more than 5 centuries) Height: 15.3hh Breed: She takes the form of an Arabian, pure and simple, ancient and beautiful. Shape shifting animal: White Elk, taking on the characteristics of a male by bearing large antlers from which dangle odds and ends from her journey. Nightwalker (click) Forest Deer, where her body is made of the forest. Bending power: Expert at all, No favorites. Is the emobdiement of earth, including life and death. special abilities include; As a goddess she is omnipresent in time. Able to see future/past/present. Gender: Mare. (In other shifting forms she is genderless) Alliance: Light Goddess....or so it seems. This Goddess is both light and dark, but not evil. Never evil... ------------------
Coat colour: Light Dappled Rose Grey
Eyes: A venomous yellow.
Mane & tail: Dark Grey
Normal markings: Strange runes marks her shoulders. None can read it but her, they are a trait from her father. Has black triangular strip around eyes.
See me relish in these: The raw form of nature, unpredictability, the fire in others souls, the icy rage of dark's, the blossoming of light in the mind, light and shadow, life and death, whispered songs, the earth. She is the essence of the earth.
My eyes grow cold when I see: Destruction of homes, the burning of land, theft, claiming, imprisonment, confinement, Loud gatherings, memories, her cousin, mortals who cannot see the way.
there's things about me you should be warned of: She is as wild and unpredictable as the true nature of the elements before equines could bend them. She is mysterious and her behavior often doesn't make sense, she can be harsh , cold and distant and then the next moment fiery and animated. Anyone who knows her finds it impossible to understand her, and she seems to be uncomfortable with others being able to bend. She strikes fear in your heart, and at the same time awe and bewilderment. She knows your place as well as hers, yet in her mind titles have long been forgotten. She is both life and death, light and shadow, fear and love. The ancients gave her life, and within her slumbers an unnerving ability to unleash upon the world complete destruction and chaos.
These features I cannot hide: She is wild and feral, with eyes that bore into your soul and pierce the thickest of armor. They unhinge your very being from this world, as if they carried a spark to dangerous for this world. Her stamina is unrivaled, as is her wild beauty. Despite being an immortal there is something in her spirit that draws others to her, but at the same time sends out a warning. Her intuition is never wrong, and her perception of others never falters. She has fire in her eyes that touches other and leaves not burns, but warmth and life. Her movements are an echo of her nature, graceful yet erratic and untamed.
I have always been this way: You cannot wrap your arms around her, nor can you feel out the limits of her being. When in your presence she seems to fill the space around you with her self, an endless streaming river of what life means. She will warn you with her eyes, with her careful steps, that the unpredictability of her nature could lead to your destruction even though it would leave the blackest of crimes on her soul. You see her and you can tell she is out of reach, and at the same time that she is your protector. Stable and unstable, a dangerous guide. You fear her yet you place your trust in her, and know she will not play with it. She is the breath that keeps you alive, and the key to the machine that pumps your heart. Your only fear that not by her will, but by her pure wild nature, she might falter and her guard falls, unleashing what ever is insider of her.
From the very depths of darkness she can bring you back, a guide formed from the very starlight and earth to call you home once more.
My past stretches on further than I can see: Two immortal mothers, bonded together by family ties. Sisterhood’s grip tight around their hearts. They stood side by side, shoulders brushing, their beautiful high necks surveying the land their sire proclaimed as his; God of all, creature of the earth, fire, water, and air. A horse with no name, who’s eyes spoke more then his tongue. He moved silently, wrapped in a smoke veil for all eternity. He lived with no alliance, but saw to it that the land bathed in an elemental’s light. His being knew no boundaries, his form spilled out over the edges of the world. Your breath grew quicker, your heart beat faster, the ground beneath you covered in a sheet of ice with each heavy fall of his broad hooves, the air crackling with his overwhelming presence, your body heat rising, the earth trembling with joy at bearing the gods weight. He passes you, tension rippling down your spine. Yet you have never felt more alive. He moves on, giving you a stare that reads your very soul, penetrating your connection to the universe. He ascends the hill, climbs the rocky pathway in the morning sun to stand between his daughters. The god smiles at them, then retreats into his high carved castle to reign forever more behind a smoke veil.
The two immortal mothers strode out of the gates of their fathers domain, throwing his lands a warm smile as the strange pair pressed on. One leaned more towards the light, the other felt closer to the dark. The unspoken agreement that kept their family bonds tight laid to the rest the eternal battle between the alliances. When together they walked on a level plain, basking in both the shadows those rose up from the depth, and welcoming the light from above, basking in its warmth. Together they controlled the world, and each step took them closer to an island far from the rest of the world. The pair halted, their noses prickling with the scent of a culmination of powerful gods and goddesses, with strangely clear holds on both alliance and element. Curious, they wished to tear through the clear sky to understand what this island was, yet something called them back. A harsh alarm rung through their heads, their skulls vibrating with the unrestrained decibels of their fathers voice shouting a thickly laden warning into the minds of his immortal daughters. Their ears flat against their skulls, their pupils contorting into slits, they danced across the path they had just laid down, bursting through their fathers gates with front daggers digging into the hard terrain. His façade wavered in emotions long forgotten, ones that even his daughters couldn’t name. His voice filled the entire space between them, maneuvering its way through his labyrinthine lands to reach the northern and southern boundaries. “War has threatened us.”
* * *
From the ancient god, who had borne all the earth, came the spirit of Elidhu. The ancient's daughter had found a body at last, the only price was the markings on her shoulder and the confinement within bodily boundaries. No longer could she loose herself t be apart of the mountains, or the very earth Itself. Her voice should have been long lost to the ages; to an earth that remembered the dead and cradled the living. But it was not so; she had not transformed into this creature that wondered the endless plains till time crumbled beneath her hooves, instead her ethereal presence graced this earth from birth. Some say she was not born in a mortal fashion, that they earth shed a golden tear and she fell from the sky wrapped in a veil of flute like voices. The hand of the elemental beings rose her from the lakes on the edge of the world where she had fallen, and with its colossal hands it carved her from the mountains, the woods, the lakes, the deserts, and even the snow blanketed tundras. "We the seers arise from a black death." they murmur to her as yellow eyes open for the first time. "with words to those who were not born to die. There is a star that enchants our hearts, yet we do not desire it for our own. It is a star that will guide the earth.." With lips of pure sunlight, a being as bright as day reaches down to kiss the shoulder of their immortal child. From afar distant eyes could see that the blinding light of a fiery day, and the silvery pools of the moonlight amidst the shadows, slip like water into the veins of their child. The breath of the elementals cut the ties of death and fastened the bonds of earth. The light burned brightly along her skin, pricking along the softly golden hued flesh in ornate patterns, gleaming as if starlight had replaced the blood that flowed through her bodice. "A gift to our star. Runes to guide the way when all else seems lost. Only from the darkness will you understand the night, Elidhu, the world's first immortal child." And like a mortal life, they faded into nihility, to be reborn alongside their child when the day would come.
*** But a deal was to be made between Elidhu, the ancient incarnate, and her cousin, the fiery immortal, to learn their true name they had to give a part of themselves over to the god of death, and when his call be heard return once more to the underworld.
* * * the mouth of the cave. a stony arch, brazenly dark and freakishly cold. frenzied hooves pounded a frantic rhythm, so supernaturally fast it was hard to believe the creatures making the tempo weren't flying. loud, threatening neighs echoed behind them. the two mares paused for but a moment before galloping on into the harsh jagged world. " they stopped following " panted the golden one, flaxen locks plastered to her neck, and flanks heaving with exertion. she stopped her loud clattering for a moment, silently motioning for her cousin to do like wise. a couple of brash wickers rung out from behind the pair. They silently awaited the harsh sound of hoof striking stone, but all they heard were a few dismissive nickers and a raspy sound that may have been laughing or coughing. words were spoken but the cave imitated them in a distorting way, making the words sound like gibberish to the two mares. they resumed their onslaught, trying to muffle the sound of their daggers by punching them into the numerous puddles of old sulfur smelling water. stalagmites and stalactites reached toward them with rocky fingers. time was hard to measure in the cave but the pair's best guess was they had spent three days in the fearsome tunnel when they stumbled out into a darkened world, dazed with thirst and hunger.
a black mare met them, grinning a crooked and gaping smile, wicked intentions hidden behind the welcoming gesture. studying her a fearsome sight met the eyes. her hide clung to her like a tattered cloth, filled with holes and weathered down to almost nothing. her eyes were dead and surely no heart beat within her ribcage but she stood before them, uttering charming words in a rasped tone. she informed them her master would be there shortly. the pair exchanged a troubled glance, though the palomino one hid hers behind a facade of arrogance. The red hued grey stared out blankly, lips curled up in some form of disgust. Quite suddenly an eerily cold wind howled across the landscape, which seemed impossible because they were underground, but as the frigid zephyr struck them they felt outrageously cold. they huddled together trying to keep warm, each staring wildly into each other orbs and out towards the death reeked gorge that surrounded them.
A shriek escaped a maw, though it was out of the question to try to guess which of the mares had uttered the sound because as the god of death appeared the wind wailed louder in their ears, becoming even colder and ripping through their age worn nostrils, bring with it the stench of some rotten hound of hell. The moment passed, and suddenly the stench ridden flow of air stopped scalding their hide with cold and their frightened, humbled eyes fell upon a sight so ghoulish that their minds instantly went blank and they could not utter a word, so paralyzed were they in their fear and confusion, but through it their eyes pierced into the hounds soul. The terrifying 'quine spoke, his voice powerful and ageless yet jagged and almost on the verge of crumbling. " hello ladies "
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2- [center][font=times new roman][size=8][color=FFA824]E l i d[/color][I][color=white] h u[/color][/I][/center][/font][/size] [center]|From [i]darkness[/i] I understand the night. Arise, I step into the [i]light[/i][/center]
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Meoww
Joined: Feb 2009 Gender: Female Posts: 1,821 Karma: 42
Re: Adlar and the fiends « Reply #2 on Apr 1, 2009, 3:30pm »
LASCIVIOUS Behind my hollow mask
---------------------- T h e e s s e n t i a l s
Name: Lascivious [to run riot, play, be wanton, evoke desire] Age:Died at age 6 (ghost) Height: 15.2hh Breed: Pure Paso Fino Shape shifting animal: Arctic Fox, Vampire Bat Bending powers: Advanced Teleport Advanced Mind Reading Advanced Air Advanced Vision Advanced Emotional Control Advanced Illusionist Intermediate Fire Intermediate Injure Alliance: Dark Residence: Sunken Citadel Claimed by: (stolen by)Skamandar-Mourge -------------------- Coat colour: Palomino Mane & tail: Crème flaxen, tail has dirty streaks Normal markings: Blaze, Coronet on left front leg Foals: Cuba + Zero by Warsaw
Delights:
Disguises and fooling other equines. Motives. They can be for joy to or gain a prize she has deemed worthy. Shadows are her thing, she lives and moves in them. Night The sky. It can also make for a perfect hiding place Equines who are just like her They are the only kinds she places any trust in. Punishing others. Condemning them to hell. Destroying lives and making sure others suffer hellish agony. Despises: Being in the spotlight. Lasc doesn’t want your attention, she’d rather hide in the shadows plotting her next move and analyzing each step her victim takes. sleeping Daylight Summer Flaunting, purity Flaws: Antisocial equine, and her looks. Her light coloring and flaxen tresses give her a look that belongs to a light. She may pretend to be you’re dream horse, but her loyalty is not to you. Her only allies are far far away...
She can become blind to everything around her and desperate if her objective evades her or is disrupted. She cannot make friends and doesnt care. Her mind only concentrated on one thing and that is punishing and torturing others for the sake of her masters and hell.
Flaunts: Her acting. She can put on quite a show. Her stealth surprises most equines, despite their belief that nothing can sneak up on them. She is ruthless and her will is like iron. She can put up with anything and any condition as long as she knows she will gain what she seeks. Her true self is locked behind a well placed barrier. Like impenetrable armor. The only time she will be flaunting herself is when shes luring someone in. She is proud that she is messenger of the shadow kind.
Personality: That pricking sensation on the back of your neck while your hackles rise in defense. That feeling that something moves in the shadows watching you. That creature that waits in the depth for the exact moment when you expose your weaknesses to make her assault. lascivious is that demon in the night that you never expected. She claims to be everything she is not; not because she feels unworthy, but because she needs you to love her, trust her, and believe those pretty little lies escaping through her lips like delicious vile. Murder is a word that belongs in her vocabulary simply because sometimes the victim can't be so easily rid of. In that case theirs only one way out; and it takes her straight to the top. When the deed is completed and not a tear will trickle down her frozen mask. In all reality she is a a single minded beast in all her determination, she has no time for emotion. She strives for no one but her self, no land but her own, and no one’s feelings but the faint beats of her own. Perhaps you feel close to her, but its all a lie. The disgust that trembles through her body at your sight is well hidden behind her seductive smile. She is perfectly controlled, no temper, no slipping. Her faults are little in her own eyes, and your pathetic groveling is a sign her plan is working. You will be used and thrown away without a second glance, not even a proud gesture as she slips back into the darkness. It’s all in a days work, my friends. The vixen of the shadows will not be phased by your anger, she will diminish it with a snap of her greedy jaws.
History: In a dark crevice in the cracks of the earth dwelled the herd made of shadows. Each equine shared no love, yet were banned together through their mutual agreement to live only for themselves, and to do it in the dark. The thoughts running through their minds were interlaced and perpetuating for the same goals. It was through this reason only that they could stand to live together, taking down their disguises every night putting themselves in a vulnerable position. The foals slipped and fell into the pits, forever claimed by the shadow herd. That was how Lascivious came to find them. She had been abandoned in a nearby field by her mother who was a lowly mare in highly greedy stallion's herd. Lascivious mother had been impregnated by a roaming stallion and fled for sometime so that the lead wouldn't know. She had her child in this field and left her their to return to her precious lead, who would have killed her if she returned with this illegitimate foal. Barely standing and blinking away the heavy rain drops that pelted her shiny hide, Lascivious blindly staggered around the field until reaching the rocky terrain where the two cliffs interlocked and formed the shadows herd down below. Confused the foal bent down to sniff at the depths below, but instead tumbled down into the darkness. There was no sound. The ringing in her audits was unbearable. Her newborn sight straining to see what wasn't there. The shadows were moving, and taunting the defenseless filly. Whispers wrapped around her slimy hind and drifted out of her hearing before she could make sense of the mixed syllables. Crying out in a pathetic voice only made the whispers turn to sneers and rifts of disgust.
Through the torments and torture of to many a trained killer the night ended with a frozen soul, and an heiress to the shadow herd. Chosen simply because something so brilliantly alive arose form the ashes of a ruined filly's remains.
[still developing pre mission]
Each night and day they would creep out from under the earth and slink through the shadows. The moved silently while watching their prey. For months and months they scouted around the island of UB. They found it to be highly protected, and so they must send one of their own into the very inferno of Unbridled…….Their very best act.
* * *
Lascivious was the Shadow King's best deciple. She foaled two who would follow in here steps, as well as his, all for the king. And when he ordered her to die, to become a ghost by Drogora's hands, she did not need to think twice before decending into the circles of hell to rise once again more terrible than before.
[center][size=9][font=Times New Roman][color=663333]LASCI[/color][color=660000]VIOUS[/color][/font][/size] [size=2] [color=660000]Behind my hollow mask [/size][/center][/color]
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Meoww
Joined: Feb 2009 Gender: Female Posts: 1,821 Karma: 42
Re: Adlar and the fiends « Reply #3 on Apr 25, 2009, 6:31am »
Grimmjow Jaggarjack You're gonna be full of holes when this is over..
------------------------- T h e e s s e n t i a l s
Name: Grimmjow Jaggarjack [gim-joe jag-ah-jack] Age: 6 years of causing chaos, 6 years of death Height: 16.3 hh Breed: Lusitano X Lipizzan X Warlander} built for the battle Shape shifting animal: Lion } forget that, I'm the powerful one [when he does shift, his lion form is really scrawny and mane almost non existent] Mares: Inyshia-Pai, Mélisande-Mourge, Sangre/Cruciare-Muse, Pandora-LA Stallions:Chemical Eyx-Fawn Residence: Lead of Charred Canyon Bending power: Advanced Fire Master Metal Master Tracking Master Injure Advanced Teleport Intermediate Air Intermediate Healing Ghost speak Gender: Stallion Alliance: Dark ---------------------
Coat colour: White-grey
Mane & tail: Shortly cropped pale flaxen mane, it falls in loose spikes on his neck, some sticking up. Almost a dingy blue. Tail is knotted and braided. } Being pretty ain't important.
Normal markings: Right side of jaw is severely scared, and forms the shape of a jawbone. Chest has a deep one from one end to the other. The chest scar came from a fight, which he purposefully made heal deeply to remind him to never loose again. The scar on his jaw comes from when he transformed into an elemental horse.
These things I tolerate...: Violence: Typical? sure, but I'm excessive. I go overboard, and the violence infiltrates every aspect of my personality. Sarcasm: As long as its coming outta my mouth Bones/Blood/Guts/Gashing wounds: Have to leave my mark somehow Victory: I'll do anything to make it mine. Accepting defeat is not an option. A fair fight: Wounded? Heal those scratches before you even think of facing me. Power: Again, typical, but its not what you think. I don't wanna lead your world, I want to destroy it. Just Revenge: You beat me once, it won't happen again. That's a promise, and I stick to my word. Projects: I thrive on motivation, a goal against the bloodred horizon drags me closer until I shatter it beneath my hoof, and I grow stronger because of the fragmented remains.
Other then that there is little about the world that makes Grimmjow feel anything.
Say goodbye to your life if..: Loosing: Fuels me more to beat you down harder. Authority: I give you respect to your face. Forget about it when your back is turned. Pretty nature things(Flowers, sunsets): You get in my way. My scene is a barren desert, where your corpse rots in the sun. Ignorant mares: just because you're a mare doesn't mean you will get away it. Snide remarks that don't come from him: I'll shove those words right back down your throat Formality:Whats the damn point? Interruptions of any kind: Will be your biggest mistake. Obligations: What the hell dude, who gave you the right? Don't tie me down man, it wont last long. Deception, Manipulation: is a mask to hide those wimpy muscles of yours, weakling. Control: Ah, finally something not typical! I don't want to be under it, so why use it? Plus, with control comes obligations. The only control he needs is over his powers.
There's things about me you should be warned of:His flaws are numerous, but he counts them as some of his finest qualities. A dark wouldn't mind them either. brutal, impulsive, excessively-violent personality and lethally-short temper are more apart of him than any other qualities. He holds grudges like no other, so one you get on the wrong side, be prepared to stay there for a very long time. He disregards any outsiders code of loyalty and honor, and creates his own. Of course he expects you to follow it if you fit into his elite few of those he tolerates.There's always only one thing on his mind; fighting. He hardly lets his mind think of anything else, or anyone else. His single minded determination often leads him to forget important thinks like eating, and leaves him unable to see loopholes or other perspectives that don't revolve around battle.
You could consider his numerous battle scars a flaw, but why?
These features I cannot hide:Grimmjow has a pretty long list of victories. Bred to be out on the battlefield, born listed underneath a hazardous title crafted his devastating skills in battle. He commands his bending with a high degree of brute force + carefully planned blows, which ultimately ban together in flurry of utter strength and demolition. All put to the use of building up the victory list, and stoking that ever expanding ego.
I wouldn't say he 'flaunts' his scars, but he wears them like a badge of honor. A motive to unleash on the next victim, even if they arnt the owner of the raised flesh blaring white against the pallet of his sinewy bodice.
You have probably guessed it by now, but his strength and determination is practically unrivaled [by mortals at least. Grimmjow would prefer not to meet a God,his ego would surely take a hit]. His massive bulk is choked full of rippling, taught muscled against the crafted warrior bones. He is training them nonstop, constantly testing their limits to find the cracks in the fantastically cultivated body. The masculinity no doubt adds to his sex appeal, not that he cares though.
Have you come to dance with the jackals?:Its true, Grimmjow doesn't dive into his depths much. He's the same horse when he's in battle or talking to another being as he is when he is alone. Nothing about him changes to accommodate the situation. He thrives on the surface where impulses and reactions come alive through the actions played out on the screen. His life is a constant action movie, moving on to the next scene with rapid movement claiming he was the heroic villain of the day. Your first impression wont reveal whats boiling on the inside, for at first glance he seems like a laid back equine, almost irrelevant. His exterior is rough and resembles that of a constantly fighting vagabond, albeit not completely void of some composure hiding in those elegant lusitano blood lines. He has all the prized qualities of a dark stallion; blunt, rude, sarcastic, witty, and quite sadistic with few twists in the road. He has little regard for others moral system, or the formal social rules of how to interact with others. More often then not he will greet you with some inappropriate remark, and leave it at that.
It's very rare for Grimmjow to put any effort into anyone other then himself, and that includes even asking another equine's name. He doesn't care who you are or what you want. His future doesn't include you, so why should he bother?
There's no way around it; Its almost impossible to get along with Grimm. He fights about anything, and everything, often resorting to physical blows and malicious bending. Anything you do wrong towards him can, and will, be held against you. Lets prey it doesn't last forever. His iron will, will prevail, even if the blood pouring from an open wound thickens with each strike. Despite his abilities to heal the minor wounds he receives in combat, he most likely will be to into the battle to stop and do so. He also considers it a sign of weakness and form of cheating.
His family lines were said to have descended from panthers, and so a certain feral instinct and cunning taint his battle style, though he is never one to stalk. He takes advantages of his opponents obvious weak points, and exploits them to his advantage. He refuses to play mind games with his victims, though he doesn't hold back on pummeling them with rude insults. If his opponents come backs entail any kind of manipulative undermining...well, that's the end for them.
Pride...ego...everyone possesses them. Grimmjow is obsessively protective of these two things of his. His overwhelming ego is not entirely creditable, which obviously hasn't stopped it's growth. If either one of these possessions of his are wounded, be prepared for all brain function to shut down, as unstoppable rage mode is entered. His thoughts become blurred and tangled together for one object: heal the wound, restore the pride. Done through any means necessary.
All this put together leaves Grimmjow as a very unaccepting stallion, although not rigid or stiff. He is rather quick to judge, but if sucha ruling lands in you're favor there is more of a chance of him letting the small things slide. He is often seen laughing in a sadistic hysterical manner at all things, a constant alluring grin spread wide upon his maw.
You dont need to know what happened before that bruise:Grimmjow cannot remember his parents. He was born into a massive herd on an abandoned shore off the coast of mainland Japan. Within that herd there were numerous groups and organizations, and a sort of anarchy established itself with scattered war-minded classes interrupting the traditional social order of a dark alliance herd. There was the top; a god like stallion so mysterious and pulsing with power that none dared to disobey the majesty. His full powers had been shown on one or two occasions, and that was enough to strike fear into the twisted society's hearts, a fear that washed over them so completely that they would follow the most harsh rules in order to never witness such power again, for surely it would be the end of them.
Grimmjow was lucky enough to have been born into the elite 12; The Arancar A group of highly modified [as in the god turned these normal unmagical equines into elemental horses]and trained equines that served as the top stallions tools to gain what he wanted; and not to keep order within the society. Each one was unique in their abilities as well as personalities. Somemore neautral then others, even some who formed friendships within the top 12. Grimmjow was halfway up on the list, number six in the descending ranking of the elite group. He didn't get along with a number of the elite's, and was constantly fighting with them trying to prove that he belonged somewhere much closer to the top. The lead of the Arrancar was constantly sending his minions out on long missions. Some destinations as far as requiring them to cross the ocean. Far frombeing pointless scouting, they were sent to either conquer, or bring back recruits. It was during one of these in which Grimmjow wasn't sent on that a immortal horse was discovered, rumored to be a match for the Arancar's lead. With the devils rage in his eyes he ordered the immortal's immediate execution. The group failed to kill her. When the group returned, Grimmjow was furious with the weakness they showed, and instantly held them below himself snorting with a growing determination. He felt that he alone was enough to devour this immortal, and so he gathered a few outcast living in secluded regions of the barren island and journeyed to the location where the immortal was residing.
The fight between the immortal mare and the highly trained 6th order of the Arancar was brutal. It was drawn out, blood pouring from deep gashes cut into their heaving bodies. The searing pain from a particular slash across his chest struck a wicked grin on Grimmjows crazed facade. His eyes bulging with the strain as he struck a blow across the immortal mares back. He raised himself up one last time, ready to bring down the combined force of an equines strength and the heat from the inferno of his heart when The Arancar's lead teleported out of nowhere in the exact spot where Grimmjow's hooves were about to fall. A vicious snarl escaped his lips, but the lead would not move. With one look he and Grimmmjow teleported back to the Arancar's isle.
Grimmjow was at first demoted, but by killing the arancar who held a higher position then him he was able to restore his rank. Without emotion Grimmjow rose to his previous post again, a vow on his lips to destroy the immortal he left wounded on a distant isle. And thus Grimmjow appears here on UB, with a fleeting notion that the immortal had moved here since it was rumored that this island held a high concentration of the foul beasts. Aaaand if not, might as well cause some trouble while he's here.
T h e t h r e a d s SUFFOCATION -Stole Inyshia but forgot about it -Inyshia arrives in charred canyon -Grimmjow hurts her bird friend -Inyshia does weird dance around him -Grimmjow kills Inyshia for being a weirdo
and it spread! -calls upon halifax -Tells Halifax about a disease. Halifax tries to keep him there. -Grimmjow escapes!
Call me |nsane -Doctors Remedy enters Charred canyon rather spectacularly
[center][font=Times New Roman][size=8][color=669999]Grimmjow Jaggarjack[/size][/color][size=3][color=006666] You're gonna be full of holes when this is over..[/font][/color][/size][/center]
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Meoww
Joined: Feb 2009 Gender: Female Posts: 1,821 Karma: 42
Re: Adlar and the fiends « Reply #4 on Jul 18, 2009, 5:14pm »
------------- T H E E S S E N T I A L S -------------
DONTSPEAK; Avoxe. [Ave-ox]
IWASBORNRUNNING; 5 years living
CANYOUREACHMEFROMHERE; 16.3hh
WHATDOESITMATTER; Trakehner X Holsteiner
WATCHMEWATCHINGYOU; Heterochomia in both eyes. Left eye is a hazel at the center which slowly transforms into a golden color. The right eye is an ice, cold, and piercing blue from the center out untill its rimmed by a deep hazel.
TOSCORCHINGTOHIDE; Avoxe's coat is a striking, fiery, silver dapple bay that lightens around his middle. Though it's handsome, being flashy doesn't help him much in staying alive.
JUSTSTRANGLEMEWITHVINES; Light Flaxen in color, Avoxe's mane and tail are completely chaotic. Who has time to fix your hair when your constantly on the run? The upper half oh his mane, from his forelock to midway down his neck is in soft spikes, save for the few clumps of knotted mane that extend down his neck. The remainder of his mane, from midway until it stops, is long and flowing, dreadlocks here and there, dirt encrusted into the tips.
LUXURIESIFYOUDARE; An interrupted blaze travels down into a snip, along with four white socks that hike up his limbs.
ALIFELINE; Whale else, but a red fox?
IFEELMYHEARTBURNING; Advanced Fire Advanced Healing. Advanced Earth. Advanced Life Bending Intermediate Teleport. Beginner Vision Bending.
------------- I CANT REMEMBER THE DAYS WHEN I FELT SAFE -------------
BETWEENTHEPAIN; Avoxe. What does he love? He loves the simple things. Life, light, the breaks between the screaming. Life has always been a constant struggle for him, with no luck to allow him to breathe. But those little moments of peace, when he knows he doesn’t have to look over his shoulder to check no one is trailing him, when he has enough food to fill his stomach, when those who he loves are safe, are moments when the world stops turning and there’s nothing more he wants then it to last forever. Because in those moments, we get a glimpse of who he once was. Who Avoxe truly is.
BUTNOTBEFOREIDIE; Avoxe hates the silence. When the woods are still, and not a thing stirs, sends that alarm screaming in his head. Something isn’t right. Those moments that toll by so slowly before the attack, those heavy pressing moments that suck the life out of you, bring him to his knees.
But who wouldn’t hate the moments between death? Or the moments when you watch those around you die, withering in pain, and there’s nothing you can do. That’s the thing, being helpless is a death sentence, to you and everyone else. Who ever heard of a lazy nobody becoming a hero of some tragic story of survival? No one. And that’s why he can’t stay still, can’t relax, can’t ever let his guard down.
DEATHSENTENCE; Avoxe has emotions. Just that is enough to ensure pain and heartache. He loves, and gives whole heartedly. He gives every piece Of himself away to anyone who asks. He wants to trust everyone, and spare their suffering by doubling his own. Willingly, he would throw his life away for the one he loved.
Around his fetlocks from the days of imprisonment are tatted bindings of material that has long since worn away. They were used to mark their prisoners, and alert the guards when he came by because clinging to the rotting material are thin, bead-like, chains that drag behind him, attached with bells and odd symbols formed of metal. Human devices are strong and built to last, and even though the bells have long since rotted away and remain silent, the long chains get caught easily and are a nuisance. Fire proof, rust proof, bending proof, they wont come off.
WHYIHAVESURVIVED; You think that just because a horse can wield the elements, that they are safe? You think that its not still a struggle to stay alive when the abilities to heal and create plant life find their way into your list of skills? Well you’re wrong, its still a battle just to live to see tomorrow. Especially when everyone around you has been trying to kill you for years. Or months. Who knows now. And though Avoxe still remains standing, he is the last one. The last one alive. Having watched the life being drained from every soul he ever knew, no wonder his instincts are dead on and can fight like an enraged Spartan. He’s had no choice. If your weak, you die. If you show your self to the world, it takes advantage of you and obliterates every last bit of you. That’s why he’s good at hiding, at sneaking around, at sticking to the shadows and playing his strengths and covering his weakness. Not to mention he can be the most charming, loveable, and caring stallion you will ever meet.
HOWDIDYOUFINDME; Summing up Avoxe is as complicated as understanding quantum mechanics. As of late, no one really knows who he is anymore. He has become a mysteries, secluded, reserved stallion that only from time to time do you see let loose and his personality shines. He’s careful around others, giving them just enough reactions and charm to ensure they don’t run off screaming. When trust slowly forms a bond, the warmth in his face returns, and a kind edge to his boyish voice returns. Form a connection with him, and you will almost never be able to get rid of him. He’s fiercely protective, guarding life by giving up his own, as it’s the most precious thing in this world.
Avoxe around strangers is almost an unbearable tension. He fights the urge to run from everyone he meets, to return to the middle of nowhere and watch from a distance as life goes on without him. But that’s not possible. He yearns for the love he once had in his life, for the friends, and the kind hearts that use to look down upon him. To be his witty, charming, funny, hardworking, and kind-hearted soul self once more. But not since the days where he was forced to kill his own s friends as he felt the touch of another.
CAN'TTURNBACKNOW; So you want to know what’s turned the soft little colt into the flighty, starved for survival, killer with a kind heart, you see before you now? it’s a tale he wished to forget, to close his eyes and turn away from forever, but the past haunts his every step. Forces him into sleepless nights as nightmares shake his body, filling his mind with the visions of the poor innocent faces of strangers, friends, foals, he was forced to kill.
Forced to fight to the death, just so he could go home once more.
Avoxe had a mother, he had younger brothers and sisters who depended on him to keep them safe. Small independent herds gathered together in the post-apocalyptic lands on the outskirts of a powerful and dominating god and his minions, who consisted of twisted minded creatures striving to use the weaker herds for their entertainment. He controlled all the elements, even had abilities the poor and starving herds couldn’t understand. So when the storms came that washed what little foliage grew in the barren lands, they knew it was him. When the lakes dried and packs of mutilated illusions hunted them down endlessly, they knew it was him. He was punishing them, always reminding them to never rebel against his authority. And that’s why he came up with the games.
His herd, plump from luxuries living, yell with their faces stuffed, for some entertainment, some bloodshed! Watching poor, defenseless foals tear away at each other if fun to watch right? Sure, or so they tell you to act unless you want to die right there and then. Ever since the tiny uprising of the herds on the outskirts of the land, which they were easily squashed if you care to know, the god has devised the games. For punishment and for entertainment. Foals, the moment they turn one year, are entered into the draw. Every year until four years of age your name is added into the draw, doubling your amount of entries each year as you grow older. 24 are chosen, 12 colts, 12 fillies. Some barely able to survive on their own for more than an hour, it doesn’t matter, it makes good entertainment. Torn away from their families, already broken, 24 young and innocent lives are sentence to their deaths. All but one of course.
The games have to have a winner, otherwise what’s the point? Every year they take these 24 souls and teleport them into harsh wastelands thousands of leagues away from any other life. The terrains vary from year to year, sometimes is a dry forest filled with unkown monsters, others it’s a barren tundra. But they havent had one of those in years, because apparently its no fun to watch 1 yr olds freeze to death overnight. From the beginning they set up scenarios around the lands that would either draw the younglings together when they all had fled and action grew slow. The moment they were placed in the ’arena’ a master of vision bending, mind reading, and an illusionist, sits high up in a guarded fortress to watch the scene play out. Whatever goes on, he projects it into the minds of not just all the members of the god’s domain, but the minds of the herds on the outskirts. The herds whose children are in the games. And they get their entertainment, their punishment, their reminder. Watching, as over time, friends who had played together when home was a comfort, are forced to tear at each others throats. As their own foals die at the hands of another, for the sake of being something fun to watch. Or so its become over the years.
What’s the worst part of it, is that back at home, in the poor herds, they are all forced to treat the occasion as a festival. If they don’t they die.
So every year, mothers, brothers, all hope with every bit of their hearts that someone they know doesn’t get chosen. Or worse, someone they love.
Avoxe wasn’t chosen. But his little sister, but a year old, was. Rushing forward to the one who announced the names, he screams “I volunteer! I volunteer to take her place!” They had never had a volunteer before, how exciting! Walikng into line, with all eyes on him, was the deadest he’s ever felt inside. But knowing his sweet, soft little sister would be spared was enough to keep him together until no one was watching. That is until the filly he has loved, ever since he first laid eyes on her three years ago, has her name called too.
There can only be one winner of the games.
----
He’s going to die, he’s going to die every second of every day that drags on. And there nothing he can do, because he cant ever even begin to think about the mare he’s loved for three years. How she too is going to die, and worse, maybe even by him.
But that’s not what happened.
----
When he finally wakes up after those three weeks, those never ending three weeks of pure, nightmarish, bloodshedding, soul shattering, on hell, he can barely remember what happened in those last few minutes of the games. It was him, and her, staring at each other promising they would do it together. That’s when everything goes blank, and when he looks down he sees hes chained to the ground, a strange ground as hard as rock but smoother than anything he has ever seen. He can hear voices, but they are no equines. That’s when it hit him. One time, years ago, there had been two who were the last standing who had refused to kill each other. That’s when they give one over to the humans. Guess it had been him they choose. At least his beloved mare, Cinna, was safe…
----
Torture, A hellish year of torture, almost as bad as reliving the games, later and he’s running like he’s never run before. As if the entire 24, blood drenched, and desperate to survive, foals are behind him. But its not them who are tearing after him, it’s the humans. Somehow he managed to escape the concrete fortress, and now he’s running faster than he did in the arena.
He’s been running ever since, desperate to save his own life, to save the others he couldn’t, to repay the endless debts he’s collected from staying alive. But that’s it, he is alive.
Name; Moro Breed;(Maned Wolf)(Golden Monkey)(Clouded Leopard) Colors; Maned wolf: Red/black Monkey: Golden/black Leopard: gray/black/silver Powers; Second form + third form Personality; Moro is much darker than Avoxe, though not in the sense of alliance. She see's the world for what it is, and understands the evils of this world without the crushing guilt Avoxe carries. She despises all other proxies, including herself for she feels like she is not a true being, just the other half of another. Which is essentially true. Despite this slumbering hatred, Avoxe and Moro are two pairs that cannot be separated. Moro loves Avoxe and only Avoxe, feeling every emotion that runs through him. She does little to comfort him, only offering blunt advice and speaking through an ancient voice. She is rude and jeering towards all others, with an appetite for threatening the lives of those she does not see fit. Her voice is deep and guttural, a voice seemingly belonging to something much larger and sinister than herself. She once came from the same land as a giant wolf god, and then was reborn as Avoxe's proxy.
------------- T H E E S S E N T I A L S -------------
ADLAR Co-Admin [M0n:78738]^#lotusleaf#up4 member is online
Meoww
Joined: Feb 2009 Gender: Female Posts: 1,821 Karma: 42
Re: Adlar and the fiends « Reply #5 on Oct 15, 2009, 12:23am »
ZERO
ONLY THAT IN YOU WHICH IS ME CAN HEAR WHAT I'M SAYING
SPEAKOFYOURYEARSBOY; Zero softly sighs. "Three lonely years"
CANYOUSTANDTALL; Zero's goofy smile laces across his maw. "Oh yes. I am as tall as a tree!" 16.2hh for the lucky boy.
WHATOFYOURBLOOD; Mustang x Paso Fino x Quarter horse
OPENTHEWINDOWS; Eyes are a light crimson laced with brown specs. "I can see the world!"
PAINTEDCANVAS; Dappled silver buckskin "A river runs through my veins"
LETTHINEBANNERFLOW; Light silver gray, hanging loosely over his face "It gets in the way, really"
MARKTHEMARK; Black points, blaze, coronet on left fore and right hind leg
THEANIMALWITHIN; Vampire bat "Is there a secret I hide...?"
LETITFLOW; -Advanced fire -Advanced life bending -Advanced illusionist -Advanced emotional control -Beginner injure -Beginner teleport
SWOONOVER; Zero has infatuations. Deep deep infatuations and intrigues that often cause him to forget the task at hand. He is distracted by anything shiny or remotely pretty. When he catches his reflection in water, he *must* stop to pull faces and stare at himself. He loves lights and ghosts alike, having no affinity over dark or light. He was just simply born a dark, but he believes that does not make him a dark per say.
Zero loves poetry, riddles, and jokes. His dialogue is always consisting of either. He also has a love for small animals, trying to keep them as pets and not realizing he may be hurting or slowly killing them.
LOATHEITSO; Zero has no true hates. He is however, weary of Gods and their intentions. He is quiet certain that they intend to destroy the world, or mess with his life when they can.
BLEMISHOFTHESOUL; Zero has many flaws in the eyes of the darks. He is nowhere near the standard for being a dark, he is not cruel, mean, power hungry, rude, or Blood thirty. He is kind, goofy, charming, playful, joking, unpredictable. Nothing of what a dark "should be." He is has enough practical intelligence to know this, but he does not care whatsoever. He is confusing and strange to many he meets. Some would say his unquestioning ability to do what he is told is a flaw, but it is about the only reason he can be called a dark. If he is asked to kill, he will.
Fleshly flaws include a thick, bulging scar from his neck to his rump.
TELLMEABOUTITSTUD; If anything, Zero is humble. He flaunts his smile and that is about it.
WHOAREYOU; Zero is unlike any dark there ever was and ever will be. Zero is not normal or standard. What he is, is much more than a 2 dimensional character. He is strange and infatuating. He lives mostly in his own world, sometimes this becomes so real to him that the "real" world transforms into his imagination. He speaks in poetry, riddles, or just plain nonsense. Making up languages and facts that he will state as true. The only possible evidence that he is a dark is his ability to kill when asked. He shuts off when having to murder, becoming robotic in technique as he slaughters. Afterwords you would be surprised if he didn't feel guilt, but he is most surprising indeed. He feels no remorse despite his kind heart. He feels a deep binding to do what he is told. He suffers time to time from an inferiority complex, as his mother and father are on the deepest end of the dark pool. Lascivious is a murdering torturous lunatic, and Warsaw a blood thirsty baby maker. Zero is neither. He is...nothing. And he is content most of the time until someone brings this up, but he finds way to deal. Like imagining a story and then acting it out with vigor. When he meets others and is in the middle of one of his stories, he is incapable of seeing the real world and will treat this stranger as one of the characters in his story. If it involves slaying the dragon, well, whoops. When Zero is truly present he can be quite charming in a very boyish manner, he has a way with words and can be unintentionally romantic. Watch out for his tantrums though, they usually don't end well. He can at times be quite morbid and seriously disturbing, but he has seen disturbing things inhis lifetime, so to him this is not out of the norm.
Zero can be very oblivious to the true nature of the world, but his path is carved though ignorance and blissful unawareness, dripped in sweet sweet optimism, with a slight hint of murder.
ANDHEWASALIVE; Zero was born through strange happenings. He has a twin sister, Cuba, who he hasn't seen since birth. He was abandoned near 2 years when the ghost invasion began and Lascivious was turned into a ghost by Drogora, as the shadow king had commanded her to do. She left no thought for Zero and he was left to make his own way in the world. He hid among the light lands for a while, living near Elidhu's tree and enjoying the peace he found there. But Lascivious found out and cut him almost clean in half, leaving that unsightly scar from his neck to his rump. He then had to spend the remainder of his days sleeping among the thousands of corpses and ghost stones in the labyrinth. He had to invent games and wonder the endless passages, often with no idea where he was, for a year until the ghost invasion was unleashed and he snuck out amidst the swarm. All he has ever seen around him where ghosts and dark times, which has led to his over active imagination that leaks out into the real world. Lascivious occasionally calls on him to do some killing, he drops everything to do so.
LEFTOVERS; Twin sister Cuba, parents Warsaw and Lascivious. Powers came from them ^^
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