Post by edo on Feb 27, 2009 19:18:48 GMT -5
URL To The Site The Image Will Be Used On: Isilme
Character's Name: Melintsa
Poems or Slogans: I'll be the death of you
Gender: Female
Breed: Hippogriff
Coat Color: Black
Picture(s) of Character: Meh.
Background Picture(s): Meh.
Color Theme: Anything dark, really
Font(s) Of Your Choice (please supply us with a link): I'm not one to talk.
Avatar: Yes please
Image Size: No wider than 800px. The site's not picky
Preferred Personalizer: If you got the cajones to try....
Anything Else You Feel Is Important: Well, yeah! You didn't put a place for Personality here! I'll raise you a History and an Appearance as well...
Personality:As an Outcast from birth and an orphan before her first year, Melintsa has learned to live on her own and wouldn't have it any other way. As far as she knows, no one would take her in anyway, and this exile from the world around her has left her bitter, angry at everyone, but beneath it all disgusted with herself.
Appearance:A hybrid creation of Gryphon and Equine, Melintsa is half-and-half. From her abdomen to her hindquarters she is the sleek black of a horse, with hooves and a matted whipcord. Her front bears black plumage from her shoulders to her head, where sharp eagle eyes peer out beneath a fierce brow, and a hooked yellow beak acclaims to her predatory diet. Large feathered wings can carry her on the wind, but if she so chose to trek by land her taloned forefeet, bare and with a scaly appearance, can run just as well.
History:
She never knew the herd to which her mother had belonged. By the time she exited the womb to the screams of her mother's pain she was already an outcast, a rape-child her foolish dam was never supposed to love...
Her name was Aurora, a little dappled gray mare with a pure heart and a tendency toward self-sacrifice. When she was only three, her herd was on a long migration that took them on a winding mountainous path, where clouds touched the earth. Dawn faded to dusk with no in between, and the nights were long and bitterly cold, turning the moisture on their coats to ice. This particular region was a common focus in the tales Aurora had heard of as a child, tales of strange creatures, ghosts, magical stones or plants, and journeys that never ended, taking foolish adventurers around the borders of heaven forever, and never granted entry or death. Aurora loved these stories more often then not, and a sort of childish gullibility in her drove her oftentimes to believe them. She never thought that anything of the sort she heard in those stories would happen to her, or that it would turn dreams into nightmares.
On one frosty night, while the horses tried to find warmth together against the mountainside on its narrow path, Aurora was kept awake by her hunger. Little plant life survived up here, and what did was lodged among the rocks and one exerted more energy then the edible provided for its trouble. But being young and in possession of far more energy then was due, Aurora thought she might at least pass her time in search for the elusive food. While the night and the fog barred her from sight of her herdmates, he came. With the great flapping of wings he landed on her back, black talons digging deep into her side and beak leaving a similar scar upon her whithers. Some would argue she could have escaped a worse fate if she had just fallen off the cliff that night in her struggle, but she didn't. She lived to tell the tale but at the cost of everything she had held dear. For a mare impregnated by a Gryphon, her belly inhabited by what could grow to kill and eat their kind, was a curse to the herd who welcomed it. Both mother and spawn were exiled.
If she had only killed it, ended the life of the newborn monstrosity that lay vulnerable at her feet, she might have escaped the truth of what happened, find a herd that was ignorant of her past. Or maybe even receive acceptance for killing her child, the curse she had become thus ended.
But she didn't. Mother was a foolish mare, who saw the likeness of her rapist in her child's face, the beast who would never be welcomed in either world, a baby harborer of unknown evils... And loved it. Loved her.
Loved me.
Despite mother's efforts I was aware of my... misfortune... at a young age. I could not nurse after birth, to what I could only assume to be her dismay. She wanted to find a loving child in me, and so soon after my birth I had no need for her. No need she could provide, anyway. Poor, foolish mother... She found dead birds, half-rotten carcasses of whatever was available to present to me. I saw the disgust on her face and felt shamed for what was out of my control.
Still, she professed her love for me. Her special girl.
I had to grow fast. Decayed carcasses were not the best diet, even if my stomach could handle it. As soon as my legs could carry me swiftly I had to hunt for myself. I was ready to "leave the nest" as it were, even if I couldn't fly yet. I had no need of my mother, and yet I stuck by her side like a suckling foal as if I thought I had any right to burden her any longer.
We had to hide away. Any sight, scent or sound of another horse meant danger. "We just have to be careful", she said. "I can't let anything happen to you, baby." So we stayed in the deepest forests, all the better for the prey I could find there. I was by my mother's side as we weaved through the towering pines. My mother flinched when the sound of large wings flapping came from above, and a pegasus stallion swooped down through the canopy. He landed with great show and tossed his head, I observed between my mother's legs. He saw my mother was a simple equine, but my wings jutted out from the far side of her, and he thought I was a mix. Well, he was half right. He trotted closer, his mouth opened for some smooth comment to come through, when my head poked out and our eyes met. First surprise, then terror showed in his eyes that held my own. He snorted and whinnied as he looked between mother and daughter, as if to find some explanation that would vindicate the monster he saw. An explanation did come to his slow mind, and it didn't please him. As fury came over his expression, my mother nudged me and urged me, "Go!", and then she fell. The stallion had charged her, the one thing between him and I, and apparently she was guilty for my existence and just as good a target. Mother was not in strong condition, you see. So much worry for our safety wore on a body already weakened by neglect; she rarely ate in her attempts to care for me. And so she fell quite easily, and as she made to recover the winged bastard reared and struck. Blood sprayed in a fine mist over the ground as I turned with barely a thought in my head, and ran.
The foolish mare I called my mother died for a beast who had no rightful claim to her love. There were other lovers, other children that could have become of her and them. Legitimate children. And yet she wasted her life on a monster.
Her loss.
Character's Name: Melintsa
Poems or Slogans: I'll be the death of you
Gender: Female
Breed: Hippogriff
Coat Color: Black
Picture(s) of Character: Meh.
Background Picture(s): Meh.
Color Theme: Anything dark, really
Font(s) Of Your Choice (please supply us with a link): I'm not one to talk.
Avatar: Yes please
Image Size: No wider than 800px. The site's not picky
Preferred Personalizer: If you got the cajones to try....
Anything Else You Feel Is Important: Well, yeah! You didn't put a place for Personality here! I'll raise you a History and an Appearance as well...
Personality:As an Outcast from birth and an orphan before her first year, Melintsa has learned to live on her own and wouldn't have it any other way. As far as she knows, no one would take her in anyway, and this exile from the world around her has left her bitter, angry at everyone, but beneath it all disgusted with herself.
Appearance:A hybrid creation of Gryphon and Equine, Melintsa is half-and-half. From her abdomen to her hindquarters she is the sleek black of a horse, with hooves and a matted whipcord. Her front bears black plumage from her shoulders to her head, where sharp eagle eyes peer out beneath a fierce brow, and a hooked yellow beak acclaims to her predatory diet. Large feathered wings can carry her on the wind, but if she so chose to trek by land her taloned forefeet, bare and with a scaly appearance, can run just as well.
History:
She never knew the herd to which her mother had belonged. By the time she exited the womb to the screams of her mother's pain she was already an outcast, a rape-child her foolish dam was never supposed to love...
Her name was Aurora, a little dappled gray mare with a pure heart and a tendency toward self-sacrifice. When she was only three, her herd was on a long migration that took them on a winding mountainous path, where clouds touched the earth. Dawn faded to dusk with no in between, and the nights were long and bitterly cold, turning the moisture on their coats to ice. This particular region was a common focus in the tales Aurora had heard of as a child, tales of strange creatures, ghosts, magical stones or plants, and journeys that never ended, taking foolish adventurers around the borders of heaven forever, and never granted entry or death. Aurora loved these stories more often then not, and a sort of childish gullibility in her drove her oftentimes to believe them. She never thought that anything of the sort she heard in those stories would happen to her, or that it would turn dreams into nightmares.
On one frosty night, while the horses tried to find warmth together against the mountainside on its narrow path, Aurora was kept awake by her hunger. Little plant life survived up here, and what did was lodged among the rocks and one exerted more energy then the edible provided for its trouble. But being young and in possession of far more energy then was due, Aurora thought she might at least pass her time in search for the elusive food. While the night and the fog barred her from sight of her herdmates, he came. With the great flapping of wings he landed on her back, black talons digging deep into her side and beak leaving a similar scar upon her whithers. Some would argue she could have escaped a worse fate if she had just fallen off the cliff that night in her struggle, but she didn't. She lived to tell the tale but at the cost of everything she had held dear. For a mare impregnated by a Gryphon, her belly inhabited by what could grow to kill and eat their kind, was a curse to the herd who welcomed it. Both mother and spawn were exiled.
If she had only killed it, ended the life of the newborn monstrosity that lay vulnerable at her feet, she might have escaped the truth of what happened, find a herd that was ignorant of her past. Or maybe even receive acceptance for killing her child, the curse she had become thus ended.
But she didn't. Mother was a foolish mare, who saw the likeness of her rapist in her child's face, the beast who would never be welcomed in either world, a baby harborer of unknown evils... And loved it. Loved her.
Loved me.
Despite mother's efforts I was aware of my... misfortune... at a young age. I could not nurse after birth, to what I could only assume to be her dismay. She wanted to find a loving child in me, and so soon after my birth I had no need for her. No need she could provide, anyway. Poor, foolish mother... She found dead birds, half-rotten carcasses of whatever was available to present to me. I saw the disgust on her face and felt shamed for what was out of my control.
Still, she professed her love for me. Her special girl.
I had to grow fast. Decayed carcasses were not the best diet, even if my stomach could handle it. As soon as my legs could carry me swiftly I had to hunt for myself. I was ready to "leave the nest" as it were, even if I couldn't fly yet. I had no need of my mother, and yet I stuck by her side like a suckling foal as if I thought I had any right to burden her any longer.
We had to hide away. Any sight, scent or sound of another horse meant danger. "We just have to be careful", she said. "I can't let anything happen to you, baby." So we stayed in the deepest forests, all the better for the prey I could find there. I was by my mother's side as we weaved through the towering pines. My mother flinched when the sound of large wings flapping came from above, and a pegasus stallion swooped down through the canopy. He landed with great show and tossed his head, I observed between my mother's legs. He saw my mother was a simple equine, but my wings jutted out from the far side of her, and he thought I was a mix. Well, he was half right. He trotted closer, his mouth opened for some smooth comment to come through, when my head poked out and our eyes met. First surprise, then terror showed in his eyes that held my own. He snorted and whinnied as he looked between mother and daughter, as if to find some explanation that would vindicate the monster he saw. An explanation did come to his slow mind, and it didn't please him. As fury came over his expression, my mother nudged me and urged me, "Go!", and then she fell. The stallion had charged her, the one thing between him and I, and apparently she was guilty for my existence and just as good a target. Mother was not in strong condition, you see. So much worry for our safety wore on a body already weakened by neglect; she rarely ate in her attempts to care for me. And so she fell quite easily, and as she made to recover the winged bastard reared and struck. Blood sprayed in a fine mist over the ground as I turned with barely a thought in my head, and ran.
The foolish mare I called my mother died for a beast who had no rightful claim to her love. There were other lovers, other children that could have become of her and them. Legitimate children. And yet she wasted her life on a monster.
Her loss.
