Post by lejea on Dec 12, 2009 15:57:20 GMT -5
Character Name: Konan Rupture.
Pronounced: Ko (like toe) - Nan (like nanny) Rupture (as spelled)
Gender: Female.
Age: Four years.
Rank: War Mare.
Other Characters: none, as of yet.
Appearance: At 16.3 hh, Konan is a formidable Gypsy Vanner mare that is not afraid to toss her weight around. The draft of her breed shows itself dominantly with her height as well as muscle, heavy feathering, flowing gaits, and sometimes unruly balance. From the base of her hooves to the very tips of her ears, she radiates elegance and beauty. Or so she would like to think. But as much as she wants to believe herself as gorgeous, her flaws are not easily hidden. Wide, dishpan hooves the color of charcoal stand out in shocking comparison to her heavy white feathers. These hooves are bigger than average, giving her a greater sense of balance by a strange appearance. Those feathers lead up to lovely white stockings, which are then lipped with black mini-stockings. These legs would be beautiful if not for the shortness of them, their thinness despite this stockiness. The only other off color is the pink of her nostrils and lips, the black that line this pink, and the white of her large blaze. The whole of the remainder of her body is covered in a honey kind of buckskin, an odd color for her breed. This leads her to believe she is mixed with something other than Gypsy Vanner, something foreign to what she has encountered. Perhaps her father was more of a mutt than she first thought. Thick black hair make up her mane and tail, all these hairs tipped in a rusty colored auburn and tangle and frizz easily, a ragged bedhead. Her eyes, almond in shape and the most dominant feature of her face, are a light brown in color, another sharp contrast to her main color. Her eyes are far apart, giving her a sometimes cockeyed appearance. She sees herself as beautiful, as perfect, but she knows her many faults are hard to ignore.
Being a mare of dominant personality, she is very aggressive when her orders are discouraged and can go into a blind rage when they are disobeyed. This form of obsessive aggressiveness leads to many fights, and she usually takes the brunt of them due to her lack of coherency for anger. Flailing wildly, she takes hits from inadiment objects when in rage, and her scars are harsh against her hide. The cinnamon color of her hide leaves her scars pink and raw in the open. The elements beat at them, making them more prominent as the skin is irritated and reopened. She will always have trouble with a scar that winds from one cheek to the other across her white blaze right beneath her eyes. This white offsets the red of the wound and if not for her eyes, which command attention, would be impossible to ignore. Her shoulders, whithers, legs, and hips are also unbelievable raw with scars, giving her a zombie appearance.
Personality: Konan is very alert and intelligent, calm and observant. Instinctively protective for her own survival and those she grows attached to, she is courageous and highly adaptable. This, also, gives her a problem with becoming attached. As most Warlords go through mares like water, Konan is more of one to stick and stay. She does not appreciate being downgraded as replacable, and when she finally finds someone she enjoys the company of, she intends to stay there beside them. She in fairly loyal and responsive, depending on her mood. Highly territorial, she is a natural guard over what she deems necessary. Reserved around strangers and off her territory, she is often considered lazy. Responsiveness with any kind of animation is not a real characteristic of this female. Overhandling would be discouraged. She has been known to be suddenly vicious even after vowing her undying love to someone, as she is also known to fraud loyalty should it benefit her. She is sometimes said to be bipolar, but is very simply effective in stopping drama before it starts. She does not put up with other females easily, but gets along very well with males, maybe more than she should. She's a flirt, to put it simply, and not afraid to show her sexuality. But in short she is a trickster, sly and easy to grow fond of. She can make you believe she's your mother in an instant, and kill you in the next. Depending on your relationship to her, trusting her could be the death of you.
Rp Sample:SO WITH SIN I CONDEMN YOU
never again
WILL YOU SEE THIS IN YOUR LIFE
you could've been all i wanted
but you weren't honest
if you really loved me
you would've endured my world
hello, darling.
The mare stood, letting the ground shake softly below her sensitive feet. Her ears were pricked curiously forward, looking at the large whole in the ground. She had seen nothing like it in her whole entire life, and was intrigued. Konan Rupture carefully stepped forward, edging near the rim of it. She peered down into the deep abyss of nothingness.
[x] How cool.
[x] She wondered what would happen if she pushed a horse down into it. She had no doubt they would die; but would it be painful? Would she hear their scream rising up from the depths of hell? Maybe it was the portal to hell. If so, should she try and venture down into it? Once more her head appeared over the edge, studying the hole. It was black. Completely dark. Konan flicked her tail once then backed away from the edge. Yeah, right. Like she would risk something as valuable as her life just to get one simple answer. She would risk another horses's life, surely. Maybe some Native mare, a captive she decided was worthy enough to toss into a hole. Some foolish horse that decided they would like to come and see the mare. A dark laugh floated out of her mouth but was lost in the endless steam that shrouded the area. Maybe if she waited long enough some poor victim would stoll along, like she was some sort of magnet that attracted other horses. Konan looked towards the edge for a third time, wondering if she would push a stallion down into it. There were only so many of them in thr world, did she want to put their population in jeaopardy?
[x] Then again, if there was a sudden shortage, she would fix it. A smile curled her lips up at the corners in a sudden wave of inspiration. Maybe she would just kill a couple filly's that were born, so she would not have to deal with them when they were older. Oh, yes. If she was leader of this damned world, things would be just perfect. For her, at least.
[x] She let herself imagine her own little fantasy, in which she ruled everything. Mares would bow down and roam for the best of foods to lead her to, the tastiest and rarest of fruits and vegetables. Her coat would be kept sparkling and in perfect condition because she would be groomed every morning, and she would have a special place where she would laze around being awesome. It would be tucked away some place, but be high up, so she could rule her kingdom with a golden throne. The stallions and those other domesticated horses who dared call themselves males would be judged on the battlefield, and she would decide who died. Only the strongest, the most beautiful, the most flattering, would live. They would respond to Konan's words like they were programmed to do it. They would attack others or each other, just for her own amusement, just so her own hooves could remain bloodless, just so she could stay lazy. The colts would be brought up by the old mares, so they could learn their manners early and become her next lovers. She would become a cougar, which was slightly amusing to her now. The fillies would be treated kindly until they were old enough to be beaten. Konan would have her fun with their disgustingly filthy hides and destroy them in the way she felt they deserved to be. It was not a hatred against her own gender, but maybe a form of jealousy. The mares would not touch her stallions, and the stallions would not so much as LOOK at the mares. That was how it would be. Caramenl body shook as she laughed, trotting away from the hole. She would never be queen of anything; responsibility had failed her.
[x] But, as she wandered away, a dark mood shadowed her face. Konan was used to getting what she wanted. Just a little bit ago, she had wanted a stallion. And someone had had the nerve to stand in her way. The mare was almost hissing as she thought of that moonlit night, when she approached the twosome, as confident as ever. It had been going pretty well, it seemed, but for some unheard of reason, that palomino had thought, 'Hey! Let's see how ticked off we can make Konan tonight before we get ourselves killed!' Gypsy Vanner's eyes narrowed on nothing in particular, imagining what she could have done to that stranger mare. She had had plenty of fights in her days, why had she not fought with Rulneen? Maybe she would be dead now, and Konan would have gotten what she wanted. That black stallion. Whose name was unimportant right now.
Hopefully she and Rulneen would meet again.
"What kind of name is Rulneen anyway?"
((Oh, I am so upset with this post.. I am SOOO sorry that this sucks horse booty, really I am. My muse is spent, so my first post will be a LOOOOT better. lol.))
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