Post by blacklady on Aug 19, 2007 0:18:40 GMT -5
Name:
Pax de Acletes (PACKS DAY ah-CLEE-teez)
Age:
Four seasons and Eight moon cycles
Breed:
Appaloosa
Lineage:
Son of Acletes and Neumeda (ah-CLEE-teez; new-MEE-duh)
Height:
o.O -coughs- Short? Uh, let's see.. -opens google- Ah. Kay. A WHOPPING FIVE FOOT SIX. xD At the forelock. So.. Yaaah.
Sex:
Colt
Children:
None to speak of
Place Of Birth:
A Mountain by the Sea, which is all I've cared to dub it as of yet.. (See History)
Physical Characteristics:
Ah, here we go with the zebra paradox. Let's call him black with a white appaloosa flank, a bony thin equine with a long, shaggy mane and tail. You can see each rib poking through his dirtstained, snaggy coat. He does not take care of himself very well, for reasons mentioned later..(The above picture is a far younger picture of him than I have him now.)
Personality:
Two words my ass.
- The reason behind point number one will be dived into in "Other", where I include his faaascinating history. So, prepare to be bewildered as I explain that, put most bluntly, Pax is insane.
Mad.
Not right in the head.
He sees Magpies all around.. They fly overhead and call out to him, land perch by him to peck at the ground before him. All his life, they haunt him.. The wicked Magpies that only he can see.
His parents whisper to him from the trees, from the earth, from the sky.. He answers back each time, but they never reply. He is driven further into his madness by their constant evasion of him.. They always continue to taunt and tease him with their comforting voices until he calls back, and then they disappear.
He converses with inatimate objects as though they could answer back, spilling everything to them, even going as far as to ask them questions and wait for their reply.
Although he knows he is crazy,and hates it, he keeps hoping someday that his parents will answer back, that the trees will nod to him, that the magpies will be visible to others too. - Point number two, Mr. Sexist. In the eyes of Pax, mares are for foaling and foaling alone. They serve no purpose but to produce new life, and should not be allowed to have any power at all. They belong under the firm rule of stallions, and ought have no say in their fate.
- The prejudice that darkness implies evil is lost on Pax. He is dark, enveloped in shadows, negative and angry, but he is not evil.
He is a firm believe that the world is a depressing place filled with nothing but sadness and evil. He is angry with equinity, with Mother Nature, with the Fates of lore, with himself. Most of these passionate feelings, he stores away, keeping himself dry and bland and hidden. - There is a part of himself that sometimes shows, the part that is a child calling for help. Despite the phrase mentioned earlier that is here summarized as "He hope the trees would someday reply", pieces of him desperately desire a kind hoof, someone that will make the Magpies go away.
Sample Post:
The plain was silent. For miles, the only thing to be seen was endless stretches of thick grass, entangled with ticks and burs. On the horizon, the sun was rising. The brilliant hues of pink and purple were beginning to fade, and the mist was starting to rise. Birds chirped from unseen hollows. There was no wind this early morning, and so the sea of grass was still.. And yet alive with hidden creatures.
In the distance, one creature was not hidden. Slowly, a black and white figure was trudging through the dry, dead grass.. An appaloosa colt, all alone in this wasteland. Above his head, a lone magpie circled, but if you had been there, you would not have seen it. This magpie was for the eyes of Pax alone.
It cawed out, sharp and shrill. The sudden break of silence made Pax's heart skip a beat. He turned his head to the sky, his pace pausing. "Shut up," the young stallion hissed. The bird merely alighted on the ground and cawed again.
Pax.. Pax! A whisper echoed through the grass. Pax continued on his way, ignoring it. He had heard this voice so many times, he was sick of it.. And yet still, every time it sounded, his heart was filled with hope..
Pax, please.. Please, turn around! We're right here, Pax.. The colt turned his head quickly, only to find naught but empty space. Why did he still obey? He knew there would be nothing. And yet.. It seemed like they were just around the next corner, every time.
Pax.. Please, answer us, son.. Have you forgotten us?
"No, da," he called, his voice strained with upset, "I can't ever forget you!" As quickly as he replied, the voice ceased, like they had been only the wind.. He had known they would.
The Magpie took to the air again in a rush of wings, and faded into the clouds.
Other, retitled History:
Pax was born to Acletes and Neumeda, but lost them only a few months after his birth. They lived on a mountain by the sea, a mountain where Magpies were plentiful. One morning, as they strolled along the mountain paths, a gang of wicked horses that saw good fun in murder induced a rockfall over the heads of the three. Pax, shoved safely out of the way, could only watch as the crushed bodies of his parents tumbled down the mountainside and the Evil Equines cheered at their success, not knowing a third young colt had hidden himself away. As all grew silent again and Pax stared down over the mountainside, a single Magpie offered his croaking caw in mourning.
From the moment on, the event haunted him, torturing him into insanity. He could hear his parents speaking to him, he could see the Magpies that fluttered around his homeland. He walked alone in silence, finding company in the silent trees and the Magpies that followed him.
From the moment on, the event haunted him, torturing him into insanity. He could hear his parents speaking to him, he could see the Magpies that fluttered around his homeland. He walked alone in silence, finding company in the silent trees and the Magpies that followed him.
