Post by Tempest ♫ on Aug 23, 2008 1:51:47 GMT -5
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full name ;;
Tempest.
nickname(s) ;;
None; he just goes by "Tempest". I suppose you could call him "Temp". (: If you were dumb or something. Like me. xD;
age ;;
Five years old.
breed ;;
A cross of many different breeds, but appears to be mostly Friesian.
gender ;;
Male; stallion.
coat ;;
He's a very large horse, and has short black fur. He looks like your standard Friesian, basically. It’s hard to distinguish him from any other of that breed.
height ;;
15.4 hands.
history ;;
His history is pretty bland. He was born to an average mare and the lead stallion in a herd, and traveled with them until he reached maturity; about three years old. From then he was chased off by his father, foreseen as a threat to his leadership. Scornful, Tempest took to the hills. He’s a natural vagabond; he has trouble staying in one spot. And he isn’t exactly one to plan ahead. His aim is to start his own herd – to boost his self-worth, of course – while moving from place to place, just picking up mares as he goes. Of course, it’s not like things always go the way you pick them out in your head.
example ;;
The sun was pitched high in the noon sky, floating tall in its realm of blue, dotted with soldiers of white, lightly watching over the hills and casting faint shadows down to the grass below. The wind had been called off, letting the sunlight and heat linger and mingle together, the humidity beating on top of the air. In such a day, even standing still would cause one to work up a sweat. The grass, under the careful watch of the clouds and the sun and the sky, seemed not to notice, standing still and firm atop their roots, lifting and lowering in elevation over the hills. Not a tree was in sight; or anything taller then a shrubbery. The whole scene, that picked place in the world, pulsed with the steady beat of summer, sunlight and heat raining down upon the grass.
But then there was the king; the darkest shadow, the tallest figure, his knees gracing against the fringes of the grass. His body was aligned so that all four pillars stood right next to the one parallel, his weight balanced equally onto each massive hoof. His chest was puffed in his pride, head erect, a crown of sweat encircling his brow. His whole figure glimmered, trembled, with the sweat that was smeared on every black hair atop his body. The sunlight danced off of his black back and shoulders, flies emerging from the tall grass and flying laps around his hindquarters. His tail was crimped, a dark shade of brown, beating endlessly against the side of his flank. His long face showed no expression, no annoyance. His ears was slightly pricked forward, the stallion attempting to act disinterested about his search for another.
Even a king cannot survive without his subjects. Lonesome was the life of pride. Always holding yourself higher then everyone gave you a very few select to communicate with. His dark nostrils flared, ears flickering backwards towards his flank as his massive head dipped, burying itself within the grass. Teeth dug at the bases of the weeds before his cranium surfaced, bunches of green sprouting from the corners of his mouth. He was the prince of his own little world, an outcast in everyone else’s eyes. The life of a bachelor earned his title no respect. Though from noble birth, when his age became ripe he was chased from his herd, left to forage and to survive all by his lonesome.
Empty thoughts swarmed his head. He couldn’t deny that he was a shallow man; there was always that… that thought on the tip of every male’s mind. It’s not like he had come into contact with any females. He wasn’t much of a courtier. His personage didn’t gain him much respect with mares. His gender and his devilish appearance was the only thing that worked in his favor. A snort echoed, the stallion tossing his head, forelocking shaking between two rolling amber eyes. But of course. His stomach full, his knees bent and his large frame moved forward, the grass before him parting to either side of his broad chest, making way for the self-proclaimed king to move. His wavy mane bounced eagerly against his curved neck. Even the way the stallion carried himself was regal; his ears were forward in mild interest, his serpentine delicately coiled so his head was thingyed downwards, knees brushing high over the top of the grass. His tail was raised, floating in the wind in his wake, the tip fluttering but a few feet over the ground.
Tempest. He wasn’t anything special, if you pushed beyond his thoughts. He was simply the arrogant prince, stuck inside of a four-legged brute’s body.
[[ Pschh… I haven’t roleplayed horses in forever. ^^;; I’ll get better; I swear. Heh. ]]
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username ;;
"ren"; I pretty much just go by "Ren". (: Soyeah.
roleplaying experience::
I’ve roleplayed horses for about… a year to two years. But that was a while back. I’ve mostly done humans, but decided to give equines another shot. I’ve been roleplaying in general for about four years.
do you like Feather Dust so far ::
I guess so. (: Haven’t really done much so far.
any changes ::
I do have to agree – the whole having to scroll thing is kinda annoying. /:
code word ::
Jazz.
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