Post by silence on May 2, 2011 16:59:42 GMT -6
Name;; Sunflash
Breed;; Arabian
Pelt Color;; Bright Chestnut
Markings;; Star
Age;; 5
Gender;; Stallion
Alliance;; Light/Neutral
Personality;; Brash, Idealistic, Arrogant - these are the simplest words we could use to describe him - and even then to some degree it falls short. How can words alone describe a mountain? How can words alone describe a future? They cannot, and so - for the brief history of time we're about to present, we can only attempt to preserve what glory lies beyond the mastery of words.
In the opinion of this fine gentlehorse, the only thing in existence that should be actively pursued is perfection. True perfection - not an allusion to it, not a semi decent attempt at recognising it, but rather thorough, complete, unavoidable perfection. And so, with such an obsession with this impossible hyperbole of existance, he has come to the conclusion that he himself happens to be perfect. Unfortunately this is very far from the truth. For one of the first rules of perfection (which although he wrote himself, he prefers to ignore above all other intentions) is that only a creature unaware of perfection is capable of it - therefore outlining him as one of the biggest hypocrites this little world is likey ever to meet.
But this does not affect his behaviour towards mares, not even his behaviour towards other stallions. It is unlikely, even without the arrogance he was born with, he could possibly be changed at all. He is over protective, loyal, complimentary and, at times, incredibly demanding. He feels a genuine affection towards the mares in his care, even a love. And certainly, he has never been inclined to take extreme liberties with them. He does not state how greatly he desires perfection in them, he has learnt how to keep all his anger and nit picking inside - not to insult them, no matter how greatly they annoy him. All he expects (although it may seem like a lot) in return for this exemplary behaviour, is loyalty. He would merrily fight for them, defend them, and lead them away into greater bigger fields if only they would follow him - without complaint.
Of all the things that get on his nerves, this is the one that grates upon them in the most spectacularly and annoyingly huge manner. He LOATHES being complained to, without ample reason. He believes easilly that his mares should, (rather blindly) follow him wherever he should choose to lead them, and should they ever complain, refuse, or defy him in any blatant manner, his temper flares greatly.
In his own opinion he had great and forthcoming controll over his temper, in simple reality this is not true. Not by any small means does he have such utter controll over his temper, quite the opposite in fact. Sunflash would never reprimand a mare or foal without reason, (so long as they were a member of his herd) but beyond that? Yeah, he blows his lid way too often. How many fights has he entered, blithly, with little reason? Too many. Brash, highly strung, and over reactionary - these are his worst traits. But what do we have to weigh them against?
He is, in bravest essence, kind, courageous and romantic. He looks after his own, and although at times he can be awkward and hard to get along with, in the simplest of manners he is willing, hopeful and always has good intentions. He doesn't believe in fakeness, and so although he often sugarcoats his words, he is, simply put, honest. And thats why he is a good stallion, in simplest effort - thats why he is loved.
Only this and nothing more.
History;; As always seems to be the fashion, we write this story not from where it starts but from where the people that created it started. Flash's mother was a pleasing, amiable mare named Isla. She was aging, but still strong, and stood stead in her 19th year and had been a member of the same herd for 14 years. A pale, orangey bay she was, with a defined arabian head and a sturdy stocky body. His father, a younger stronger stallion named Pierro had defeated the former leader and taken his place as the leader of the herd. It can be little doubt that said stallion was proud to take such a large herd, and certainly that he was aware of how lucky to be to own it - but this is besides the point.
What is instead within the point, is the fact that these two horses, dutifully being lead and brood mare, bred and produced a foal - Isla's last colt, and it is here our interesting story really starts.
As a yearling, Sunflash was noticable above his brothers. As easilly as the foals frolicked, was as easy as it was to watch him. A pale chestnut, brilliant orange with touches of gold that seemed to shine through his pelt. His flashy attitude, his high kicks, always keen to draw attention to himself - and draw attention he did. It was easy to see which of the foals drew the most attention to himself.
And when he was 3 years old, and the time had come for his father to drive him away - it was then that he realised the difficulties of drawing such effortless attention to yourself. Because above all else, it was he who struggled to hide in the brush. It was he with his high held tail and his prancing gait that attracted the attention of other stallions, indited them to beat the arrogant boy - and beaten he was. Were it not for his ability to run off, fast as you might picture away into the distance - he would be long dead by now.
But the ability to attract attention to oneself is not always a problem, and certainly it has done him well. For when a stallion need barely to dash through the tree's, quick and brilliant as falling light, and catch a fillies eye to endite her to follow him - it makes some parts of this great game of life SO much easier.
And what now? Well he has grown, he has found how to fight, he has defeated stallions and claimed mares for his pretty little herd - and most of all, in his own opinion, he has fought the good fight. Staying in the lowlands where the grass is lush and green, and the other stallions know how to lead their herds without fighting every battle to the death over them.
And now what? Well, you tell me. He is waiting for his beggining after all, shall we see what we can do with him?
Picture;; here
Roleplay Sample;;Time waits for no one,
So do you wanna waste some time
Oh, woah, tonight
Don't be afraid
Of tomorrow
Just take my hand I'll make it feel
So much better tonightThe prancing stallion made his way into the claiming grounds. As a rule he rarely went there, he didn't usually have much reason to. He was a cocky brute, and therefore, it became rather more rare that he would choose to visit this place - why? He liked to steal mares, he delighted in thieving the pretty ones from other stallions herds. Why? It gave him a confidence boost, it banged that little drum right down deep inside him and, to a certain extent, it was a fairly free high. Only that it wasn't. His skill lay with his quick tongue, with his fine prancing steps, his flashy features - but not in the battlefield. The last few times he had dashed through the fields, his fine tongue poised full of sweet nothings and his flashing coat hoping to bedazzle, he had in fact been caught. The female had no chance to fall for him, and the pretty boy had no chance to woo, for it was then the big stallion who ran the herd had seen him and challenged him. His ego was too big for him to back down, and so - guess what - he was beaten. Tail between his legs he had run home, to find his own pretty mares taken, or rather stolen for someone else. So what now? He had no land, no herd, no hopes of stealing one or flaunting something else - for what was there left to flaunt?
Ah, but he had one thing. An idealist to the end, a revolutionary born with hope in his heart and flare in his tale - he started where all must. At the beginning. The claiming fields.
Suddenly my eyes are open
Everything comes into focus
Blinding
We are all illuminated
Lights are shining on our faces
Everything comes into focus
Blinding
We are all illuminated
Lights are shining on our faces
Although he was an old hand at the flirting part, and although he was better at showing his stuff off then most stallions hoped to be in their lifetimes - he was unexperienced with this arena. He had never thought to capture a pretty things heart all by his lonesome, what would that accomplish for such a brute? But now he knew. The right of ownership, the knowledge a mare actually belongs to you - but more than that, it was a personal test, he wanted to test himself and find out whether or not he could claim a mare, straight of the bat. And he believed he could.[/blockquote]
His fine head was held high, he stood, uneasy on his feet - shifting his balance from one fine pillar to the next, shaking his long mane onto his long shimmering neck. His throat seemed crafted of the finest purest silk, it shimmered lightly with what light surrounded him, playing along the long muscular lines and finding some trace of glory there. He was a showman, a beast built to be paid attention to, and in that way when drawing attention to himself he was spectacular. And because of this, he was not looking for something else prancing. He had been with prancers before, and after a while one or another of them would get attention starved, being forced to live with someone else as vain as they were never helped. And so he was looking for something else. He wanted a mare who could be quiet, and good. A stable beast who would stand beside him and be willing to follow. Thats all he wanted. Someone he could make perfect.
Swing me these sorrows,
And try delusion for a while,
It's such a beautiful night,
You've got to lose inhibition,
Romance your ego for a while,
Come on, give it a try
And you see thats a thing, his most redeeming quality. When a mare was, in his opinion 'worthy', he worshipped her as if she were the sun {in his own, stroppy, showy way}. He was not sparing when he loved something, he did not pause. He would do everything in his glowing capability to make them happy, to be as perfect as he could - and that was what he was looking for. Someone worthy of being made perfect, and in turn of being worshipped as such. And then he saw her.[/blockquote]
She stood neither apart from the herd, nor a part of it. That was something he noticed from his stealing days, (not that those days are passed, but, for the time being...) he remembered the rules. If you went for someone in the heart of the herd you would doubtless pull the uglies out with her and when one was being selective he never wanted uglies. This femme was not an ugly. As soon as his bright lighting eyes set upon her he was certain it was she he desired. She was not announcing her presence to the cruel horizon, she did not demand attention as if she deserved it. And that is why his interest in her reached its peak so swiftly. Within moments he was a hop skip and a jump away, holding his tail high so that its plume met the sky, his long pretty neck extended and his fine mane caught against his side. his eyes were dark, as was to be expected from something protesting so loudly to be an {attempted} arabian. The pale star in the centre of his forehead worked in that it drew attention to his eyes, not something he often needed to help with all his fancy footedness. But none the less, it was helpful.
Suddenly my eyes are open
Everything comes into focus
Blinding
We are all illuminated
Lights are shining on our faces
We are blinded
Everything comes into focus
Blinding
We are all illuminated
Lights are shining on our faces
We are blinded
He stepped forwards, trying for once not to be too much of his stroppy self, he gathered the feeling that would not be so well welcomed with this mare.[/blockquote]
'Lo,' he said, for lack of something better - what more was there that his little words might conjure? He wanted to try his appealing tongue on her, to roll the oates in honey as it were. But as for openings he was a little stuck. 'I might ask what a pretty mare like you is doing in a place like this, but that would be a little redundant now, wouldn't it?' He smiled, a warm, quick smile that flashed across his features - and fine and charming as he wanted it to be. 'That doesn't change the fact that its nice to meet you, pretty lady.' The smile alighted again, briefly, leaving his lips with a ghost upon them.
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Did any Dawn member bring you here?;; Nope!!
Returning member;; Yes, but my characters were totally forgettable! Callion and Benedictus. ^^
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