Post by Lonnie Dearest// on May 20, 2007 23:12:42 GMT -5
Name:
Conspireson
Nickname:
Conspire
Gender:
Duke
Color:
Deep rouge
Alliance:
Thestral
Sample Statement:
Lean physique, although quite masculine in shape, ambled over the landscape of the forsaken loam. Daggers dug deep against the emerald blades, skidding across pounds of dirt that rustled against the wind currents. Deep rouge visionaries, blended into the facial of tinted brown, peered up upon the firmament. A deepening sapphire coloration spread over the azure slowly, the sun would soon be completely hidden behind mounds of distant mountains. Partially living corpse came to a halt, tall against the stance created as radars flickered partially impatiently. A bemused expression held along my mask for a brief moment before fading into that of a more so sneering manner. Another inhabitant was spotted to the underside of brush, laying in the heap of a young obsidian hued colt. Perhaps that of another domain holder, which could strike forth a feud. It was something I had been searching for, as my brawn seemed to be fading into nothingness below my carapace. To bring about a higher strength, competition would be in need.
A well placed expire filtered across deep rouge labrums, pressing against the currents of atmosphere in which held the oxygen I hardly needed for survival. What be this breath? Nothing but a mere activity in which all others inhabitants were forced to follow, but me, one of the unliving dead, shouldn't have to hold the same acts as the norm. But all the same, I wasn't much diverse from those whom as well strayed the loam's facade. Ah, such displeasing bits of brain work all this was to pound within my cerebrum. Crown shook pon both sides, tresses riled in the air till once more against my burnt sienna pelt. Visions glanced over it drowsily and over the scars painted upon the hocks as well as the right shoulder blade. Accounts in which feuds took place, some lost and some brought about in triumph. Memories, mere things in which the brain pad holds forever or until they fade into the nothingness they belong.
But even such acts grew exhausting for boredom was slowly wrapping itself around and throughout my physique. Vessel shifted, although the main stance remained. There came not a single reason to move over the terra firma. Chassis rose before crashing inward to the frontal pillars once more, lungs filled and emptied as the expire was placed. Come now, come any worthy of my time. I beg of thee.
Hisotry
Just a foal laying upon the lush grass field. A man barged into the ring and screamed thunderously for some woman who fetched a bucket of water, spreading it over my partially living bodice. I could hear a horse wailing the background but I couldn't see a thing for some liquid stung my eyes, burning them in an irratable manner. The horse cried again and then a gun shot rang out. I heard them talking, the two legged ones. Bemused my expression held, their cold hands wrapped over my physique and tugged me upright, trailing from the field and into what they call a stable. The sights were suddenly hitting me, their tan flesh and their colorful eyes. What were they? Where was my mother? I heard their tones, their voices so calm and explaining to some other two leggers that my mother had been plagued with evil, that they saved me from being such evil. Or so they thought.
The year passed, me growing into a rather handsome stallion by their remarks. But the evil my mother had been plagued with was washing throughout me at a thunderous rate. Before long my bodice grew too large for their control. I rushed from the stable yard, left the damn beings be in their own miserable peace.
Physical Look
Mascluine figure, I hold such a frame as that. My pelt is stained as my mother's they say, a deep rouge tint. I am not a gorgeous black or snow white stallion, I have no need to fit into that sort of genre. I am quite large for my rather sheepish age, so let that be a warning I am not one to mess with. Brawn flexes on most occasion, blunt enamels and flints. My tresses waver the same coloration as my flesh. All around, a deep brown brute with beady black hazed visions.
Attitude
Ha? Where to begin here is such an inquiry I must present. My attitude is quite stale to say the least, I'm a rather bitter ruthless sort of duke. I don't like to take to cold vocals and pathetic dames hounding me in search of a mate. I don't need you just as you will never need me. Being alone doesn't bother me, I'm not all too good with companionship. When tables turn and an amigo stumbles along I can be rather enjoyable but those occasions are so rare.
Conspireson
Nickname:
Conspire
Gender:
Duke
Color:
Deep rouge
Alliance:
Thestral
Sample Statement:
Lean physique, although quite masculine in shape, ambled over the landscape of the forsaken loam. Daggers dug deep against the emerald blades, skidding across pounds of dirt that rustled against the wind currents. Deep rouge visionaries, blended into the facial of tinted brown, peered up upon the firmament. A deepening sapphire coloration spread over the azure slowly, the sun would soon be completely hidden behind mounds of distant mountains. Partially living corpse came to a halt, tall against the stance created as radars flickered partially impatiently. A bemused expression held along my mask for a brief moment before fading into that of a more so sneering manner. Another inhabitant was spotted to the underside of brush, laying in the heap of a young obsidian hued colt. Perhaps that of another domain holder, which could strike forth a feud. It was something I had been searching for, as my brawn seemed to be fading into nothingness below my carapace. To bring about a higher strength, competition would be in need.
A well placed expire filtered across deep rouge labrums, pressing against the currents of atmosphere in which held the oxygen I hardly needed for survival. What be this breath? Nothing but a mere activity in which all others inhabitants were forced to follow, but me, one of the unliving dead, shouldn't have to hold the same acts as the norm. But all the same, I wasn't much diverse from those whom as well strayed the loam's facade. Ah, such displeasing bits of brain work all this was to pound within my cerebrum. Crown shook pon both sides, tresses riled in the air till once more against my burnt sienna pelt. Visions glanced over it drowsily and over the scars painted upon the hocks as well as the right shoulder blade. Accounts in which feuds took place, some lost and some brought about in triumph. Memories, mere things in which the brain pad holds forever or until they fade into the nothingness they belong.
But even such acts grew exhausting for boredom was slowly wrapping itself around and throughout my physique. Vessel shifted, although the main stance remained. There came not a single reason to move over the terra firma. Chassis rose before crashing inward to the frontal pillars once more, lungs filled and emptied as the expire was placed. Come now, come any worthy of my time. I beg of thee.
Hisotry
Just a foal laying upon the lush grass field. A man barged into the ring and screamed thunderously for some woman who fetched a bucket of water, spreading it over my partially living bodice. I could hear a horse wailing the background but I couldn't see a thing for some liquid stung my eyes, burning them in an irratable manner. The horse cried again and then a gun shot rang out. I heard them talking, the two legged ones. Bemused my expression held, their cold hands wrapped over my physique and tugged me upright, trailing from the field and into what they call a stable. The sights were suddenly hitting me, their tan flesh and their colorful eyes. What were they? Where was my mother? I heard their tones, their voices so calm and explaining to some other two leggers that my mother had been plagued with evil, that they saved me from being such evil. Or so they thought.
The year passed, me growing into a rather handsome stallion by their remarks. But the evil my mother had been plagued with was washing throughout me at a thunderous rate. Before long my bodice grew too large for their control. I rushed from the stable yard, left the damn beings be in their own miserable peace.
Physical Look
Mascluine figure, I hold such a frame as that. My pelt is stained as my mother's they say, a deep rouge tint. I am not a gorgeous black or snow white stallion, I have no need to fit into that sort of genre. I am quite large for my rather sheepish age, so let that be a warning I am not one to mess with. Brawn flexes on most occasion, blunt enamels and flints. My tresses waver the same coloration as my flesh. All around, a deep brown brute with beady black hazed visions.
Attitude
Ha? Where to begin here is such an inquiry I must present. My attitude is quite stale to say the least, I'm a rather bitter ruthless sort of duke. I don't like to take to cold vocals and pathetic dames hounding me in search of a mate. I don't need you just as you will never need me. Being alone doesn't bother me, I'm not all too good with companionship. When tables turn and an amigo stumbles along I can be rather enjoyable but those occasions are so rare.