Post by norse on May 6, 2007 15:01:27 GMT
..~Marked~..
Artma
..~Meaning~..
Rise
..~Shortened Version~..
Art
..~Rotations~..
4
..~Molded~..
Femme-fatal
..~Height~..
15.3hh
..~Blooded~..
Polish Arabian
..~Home sweat home~..
Hell
..~Looks that kill~..
Artma has a thin but strong frame showing that she is no stranger to fights. She has a light crimson pelt with a slight dapple color to it. Her pelt darkens around the muzzle and ears, and her mane and tail are of the same color. Her daggers are ebony stained and a white pastern adorning her left hind limb. Her limbs are thin and long but powerful, making her a swift runner. Her long neck has the graceful arch of the arabian breed and is covered by her crimson mane. She is a femme-fatal with looks that kill.
..~Etched into the mind~..
Art has a some what sick mind, enjoying others pain with a crooked smile. Because of her lack of power her mind is her weapon, using it to manipulate any crisis to her liking. Art is also very ambitious, sometimes too ambitious for her own good. She loves taking control and will do anything for power, even kill. Her ambition has made others think of her as the ruler with an “iron fist” because of her cruel ways. She may act nice at times but it is usually to lead others into a false sense of security. She may be young but she acts like she is ten, taking charge of the younger and usually telling stories of battles she fought in. She does have a kinder side to her friends and kin, she’s supportive and would usually cheer them up with the idea of a killing spree. She has truly risen from hell itself.
..~History~..
She wasn’t born to the hell bound equine she walks with today, she was born to the heaven loving horses she despises. She was the first born of a light king and queen, destined to take the throne unless if she had a brother. She had her ambition from the start, to rule the kingdom. So, she made a plan to secure her throne that in her mind, couldn’t fail. Whenever Art’s mother would give birth, she would kill when no one was looking, and then in very sly and innocent manner she would blame it one another, saying that she was trying to protect her sibling. Her plan always worked. This went on for two years when her mother birthed a colt, and it was once again time to put her plan into action. Instead of killing her brother she “innocently” led him to a gorge, and pushed him over the edge while laughing. A year pashed and her father soon left them, and it was time for her to take the throne. Only after a couple of days of her rule, her brother returned and exposed her plan. Her mother, enraged banished Artma, and she will always would a grudge against the heavens. She has now turned to the dark side, thinking it as more fitting and here she is today, wondering about the desolate land.
..~Sample~..
[from another RPG]
..~The curse of his powers tormented his life ~..
Dark clouds circled above the darkening fields, wind blowing harshly on the gloomy, dreadful land that belonged to the darks for their whole life. The land of the banished and evil, a land fit for the devil himself if this was the underworld, which it seemed to be called to all who never saw the scenery all their life day in and day out. Crows circled above like shadows dancing a dance of death on the darkening skies, with the thunder as music and lightning as their stage light. The suns brilliant light was shrouded in the veil of dark clouds, emitting an eerie light on the land, giving the land dark grass an eerie sheen and the dead trees dry braches glowing in its dim rays. The land looked ghostly in a way, the pale sheen emitted by the sun, the dark clouds hovering above as the wind danced across the crow’s wings and the tree braches clawing at the sky as if to rip the clouds into pieces.
..~Obeying the crown was a sinister crime~..
A thundering of hooves could be heard from the opposite direction of the rising storm, the sound coming from deep within the shadowed territory of the dark ruler. A slim frame thundered across the field with pearl daggers shaking the earth to its core as white limbs carried an ebony and ivory frame across the land like a comet. A black tail streamed behind as dark mahogany eyes were hidden by a mass of ebony and ivory mane whipping to and fro in the wind. The lithe frame halted by the tree as lightning cracked in the sky like a vein of light, only to be followed by a chorus of thunder, the light shining in his dark eyes. This stallion loved to watch the coming of a storm, a hobby of his if one would like to call it, his pelt shining the eerie glow of the sun, blending in with the surroundings like a painting.
..~His soul was tortured by love and by pain~..
Looking up at the last bit of deep blue being incased by the dark storm circling it, like the shadows of this land driving back the light that has opposed and hated them since the dawn of time. The hate will never be doused by peace nor bloodshed though many have tried, only to die in vain effort, a pitiful death that only light have accomplished. Darker hearts were too proud to die a pitiful death such as that, or at least that is how he was taught ever since he was a colt. Memories of his life came flooding into his mind, seeing thin and sick horses of his homeland falling every day, and his own love perished from the sickness, and death he wished to take him to but it was all over now. Opening his eyes from the roaring thunder, the pictures in his mind still haunted him, but he had to move on, he was alive and that was all that mattered now, that was what was going on in his mind as he walked solemnly back to the shadowed forest, eyes still glowing with hatred and sadness.
..~He surely would flee but the oath made him stay~..
..~Theme~..
Living Dead Girl by Rob Zombie
..~Family~..
Mate: -
Kin:
-
Kin of her Kin:
-
