Welcome to Tempered Calamity! For as long as horses can remember, this place has been their santucary far removed from the presence of any humans. Well protected and abundant in food and space, equines of all kinds have called these lands home. Over time, the original horses who settled here spread out to explore and established the territory boundaries known today.
On the surface things appear peaceful between the different bands as well as the free roaming horses, but all is not as it seems. The inhabitants here are under constant threat. Not only do they have to survive the elements and natural disasters and outwit predators, they must also face rival herds or individuals looking to steal land or other horses.
Tempered Calamity is a semi-realistic wild horse rpg inspired by old school play by post forums. Low word count and minimal activity requirements, come check us out or say hey on our discord!
a semi-realistic wild horse rpg
year 01
spring
updates
04.10
We're officially open to members! Check out some of the quick links above to get started on all the need-to-know information. If you find any issues, feel free to PM Oxy on here or discord!
DATE HERE
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The brute watched her reaction with an overexaggerated wince, flinching back mockingly, tail tucked in fear. So completely terrified. Ears pinned, eyes barely narrowed, flinty gaze upon his own, the mare snapped and he made a hasty retreat. "I'm not your love." Still miming fear, he stood motionless as she reigned in her temper, a nasty thing, but to be truly honest, his was probably nastier as he was about to demonstrate...
As soon as the mare finished, the stallion advanced, holding her glare-
At this point the two were chest to chest. An entirely uninvited invasion of personal space, at least for this crimson being who called herself Typhoid while Emrys merely stood, unmoving. She wasn't much shorter than him; he would've appreciated it immensely if she was, it would make everything a little bit more uncomfortable for her, as this was his ultimate goal. For but a second he'd seen whatever beast Typhoid kept locked down, apparently, and he wanted to see it again for some odd reason. Bullies want to see submission, yet they hunger for a fight, and this was his way.
"What you are, darling, is whatever I want you to be." Despite his disdain for anything that contested his attitude with their own, he wanted to see her riled. Because he was bored out of his mind and had nothing else on his agenda. Well, nothing else on his agenda that this slightly irritating mare could fill in, or so he thought. He was, simply put, a king with no subjects to rule over, and most could determine why. He was most likely to succeed in driving Typhoid away than earning any sort of interesting reaction from her.
Still he noted her earlier scan, her analytical glower. Usually others sized him up for...different reasons. It was plain to see that the mare was wondering if she could fight him off should he come too close, or pick a fight himself, both of which he was currently proving to do, should she be so courteous and kick him or something. He hadn't bothered to give her a look in return, he'd looked his fill from a safe distance.
"You may call me Emrys, for that is my name. Or anything else that inspires reverence, if you do so desire." An offering in return of her own title, and a boasting of his own neverending cockiness.
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Oxymelon Notes: hi! sorry to make you wait so long, ill try to be a little more consistent 400 words.
[attr="class","loresub"]Clever as the Devil, and twice as pretty.
[attr="class","lorebody"] This place gave her chills. It felt haunted, broken. Though the sky was light and the dark rock baked in the sun's heat, the maiden still shivered. Her gilded coat would stick out like the moon in a dark, otherwise starless night sky. The land was desolate, a bleak wind stirring up small clouds of dust in her vision. This was how she imagined her former kingdom to be; dark, burnt, utterly destroyed. Jagged yet smooth, as all things molten and cooled become. The fact that she had traveled for so long only to end up in a strange, craggy landscape did nothing to ease her discomfort and rather foul mood. The creatures that scurried along had better watch out.
There was nothing remotely edible around, not even a dead bush. Too bad for the small pangs of hunger in her belly. How long had it been since she took the time to graze, to drink? No matter, even if food were to magically appear, she could not bring herself to eat it. No sign of the lush plant life that used to grow along the river in her home. The only sign of life around here would be herself and the lizards that she had noticed, scattered around, fleeing at her footsteps. It truly was the middle of nowhere. But at least there was quiet, if not for the whispering of the wind against the stony plane, and there was space. The mare shook out her pelt and silver mane, watching as dust loosened and drifted off. She'd had no time to keep well-groomed.
Twice already she had took a moment's rest, catching breaths that were filled with fine dust, letting out a cough or two. It seemed the singe and soot of her burning kingdom was trapped in her lungs, made worse by the irritating grains of rock that came with a place like this. She hated it. Hated the absence of color, the obsidian landscape, the dusty air, the starkness between the sky and the earth, black and blue-gray. From the horizon arose sharp and shadowed shapes which she assumed were all part of the terra. She reminded herself that at least there was space, room to run for a while, if she could muster up the energy to do so. On she continued. Hopefully there was an end to this lifeless land that might once have been a mighty kingdom, long since burned, and blazed, and melted.
[attr="class","lorenote"] tag: potatoren words: 411 notes: me toooo
[attr="class","loresub"]If I can't have Heaven, I'll raise Hell
[attr="class","lorebody"] Warmth settled in her bones as she wandered up the hill, pulling the mare from her thoughts. Winter was slowly fading with the spring breeze, flowers slowly coming into bloom. A new beginning, she supposed. But not for her. She could feel the sting of smoke in her eyes, could still hear the chaos and fear. She felt light, aloof, barely tethered to the living world as she navigated its mysteries and surprises. Most disgustingly, she felt delicate. Not delicate in the lovely, cherished type of way, but the fragile, easily shattered. There was no one here in this unfamiliar land to help her. Lorensei snorted in annoyance as she paused to look around. Almost to the top of the Knoll, nearly done with this little quest she'd developed, to give her some sense of purpose now that she had none. Mother would tell her to keep on living, to enjoy the next sunrise, blah, blah, blah. Well, she thought with a breath, Mother is dead. And had never taught her how to truly live. Maybe to enjoy living, but never to live, to be someone. Because yes, she'd been a princess, but that was it. Never had she been just Lorensei. Ren.
She would return to her kingdom. It was decided, decided before she had arrived in this foreign place. She would build it from the ashes, create something new out of the ruins. Would make it a haven, would rule over it in the way that Mother and Father taught her to. She would hold off rebellion and keep her people safe. Perhaps she would even find a King, pass on her bloodline. Wouldn't fail her parents, her grandparents, wouldn't abandon her history. Yes. It might take a bit, might be a journey, might cost her everything. But in the end, it will be worth it. She vowed. I'll bring safety and prosperity to my home, my kingdom. Myself.
As for now, there were more pressing matters. She would soon be at the top. Then, perhaps, she could scout out a place to stay for the night, safe from whatever monsters inhabited the land, creeping and stalking in the night. A copse of trees or an overhang would do, and in the worst case, she would bed down in the long grass or at the top of the hill. As long as it moved and was big enough to attack her, she would be able to see it. Unless whatever had decided to go for her hide was some kind of snake or spider. In that case, she was doomed. The thought alone made her tense, ready to flee at a moment's notice from whatever was crawling down there in the dirt. Ears pinned as she surveyed her surroundings only to find something coming towards her. It was the same golden hue as the plains grasses, but it was large, and she was poised to run.
[attr="class","lorenote"] tag: beeb words: 488 words notes: heeheeeeeee
The lady did not speak as he drew nearer, merely tilted her head, something glimmering in those eyes. Well, that eye. One was clouded, a slash over it, that, as he could now see, rendered it useless. Whatever had glimmered there was long gone. A pity, but it piqued his interest. Had she lost her sight in battle? Was it there as punishment? Done it herself, perhaps? Accident or had it served a purpose? She stood but a stride away, flicked her tail, a sort of smile on her marred face. A sort of smile, because, well, it was closer to a smirk. The stallion huffed, shook out his mane, and gave her his own coy grin. Held her gaze.
A twinge of something in his cold heart, spreading its warmth into his limbs, into his head. He knew it well, this feeling, but hadn't felt it in some time. He hadn't come across anyone to make him feel it. Her eye revealed little of who she was, this copper creature in front of him. But what it did show him, he devoured. Wickedness, akin to his own, fiery and burning bright; the cunning kind of confidence that lead him to believe she had met her fair share of challenges and persevered. Made him wonder what kind of lover she was. Or did she love at all, at that. Showed him that there was a chance she didn't know how to, or had been robbed of what little she had. Enticed him to take a chance and see, mold him to his own brand of poison, feed her his toxin.
She had a mark on her forehead, a star in a sea of blood. Which she may as well be, considering the look in her eye. He wanted it. Not the marking of course, a trivial thing. Wanted the fire, wanted it for his own. He'd take it feed his flame. Or use it to burn everything down and rule over the ruins.
However, he'd have to keep in mind that too much backbone was never a good thing. He had no plans to bring a challenger to his home, no matter how pretty she was or how little a threat she could be. Never assume, it made horses cocky, helpless when someone pulled the rug. A beauty is there, but a beast is in the heart. Somewhere he knew that if he began this game, this dance, she would mirror his moves. But he also knew that like called to like. So be it.
Oh? Friend or foe? The stranger hadn't bothered to learn Emrys' title, but he had offered his own. Centurion. The buckskin stallion drew nearer, kept his head high. He recognized the glint in the stranger male's eyes; acknowledged it with a low nicker. He chose to ignore the cold seeping into the other's gaze, chose to ignore the rejection of his own introduction. Chose to stay unbothered, unoffended. But the question lingered. "Friend, if you do so desire. Foe, if you wish. But you don't seem to care, do you?" An ill-disguised jab at the offending stallion's earlier comment. Who wouldn't want to know his name? But the seal-coated horse didn't deserve to speak it. If Centurion wanted to be ice, he would retort with fire, a smirk simmering in his voice.
While he waited for this dark creature's response, the jade-eyed male took note of his surroundings; the two stallions stood in a narrow crevice, caged in by high walls and shadows, the starry sky above like a rift in his vision. His tail flicked as he stalked forwards with lithe grace, like a jungle cat waiting for his prey. But he was no creeping thing, no, he faced the stranger head-on. He was just waiting for Centurion to make his next move. The dance was just beginning, and he was rehearsing the steps.
Nostrils flared as he scented the air, taking a deep breath. Preparing for what could happen, staying aware of the situation. The other's scent was vaguely familiar, tugging on something in his memory. Emrys thought back to his domain, and something came free. It seemed he shared borders with this Centurion. Interesting. He foresaw future scuffles. Whatever would happen tonight would only be the first of many. Unless the dark horse afforded him a little more respect, but Emrys laughed at the thought. Unlikely. Not that it mattered. He was prepared, alert, now itching to make a move.
Patience, he reminded himself. Though he expected some sort of fight, he must not be impatient or act too quickly and provoke the other. It was better for both of them to leave unscathed, but should it come to a showdown, he'd much prefer to be the victor.
Positive Traits: Idealistic. Meticulous. Decisive. Ren sees the world for it's beauty, for what it can become. She grew up in a flourishing kingdom, after all. She is optimistic in the world, attracted to it's potential, wanting to know the "what if?" This, however, leads her to the belief that anything and anyone's true potential is not yet unlocked, that she must fix them in the way that she desires for their traits to be valid, fancies herself as unlocking their potential. Sometimes it is for her gain, other times just out of the "goodness" of her heart. Being raised a princess requires her to find detail in everything, to fine-tune the world around her to it's greatest capability. She takes her responsibilities seriously. The world is her oyster, she should have it however she likes. She is thorough in her actions, methodical to a fault. For her, there is a certain way that things must be done, life must be lived. This makes her somewhat controlling, not intentionally, and stubborn and unwavering in her ways and ideals. Lorensei is a perfectionist, she will never stop striving for what the world can become. Indecisiveness cannot be afforded, and a leader must never go back on their words or actions. Each decision she makes is carefully curated and analyzed; to befriend someone or not, to help someone in need or leave them be. If it benefits her, she will do it, if negative consequence comes, she will turn away. This makes her trustworthy and steadfast, others can depend on her and her opinion, she will never turn on it. But if she makes the decision to turn her back, no amount of begging will stop her from walking away. [break] [break] (+) Sophisticated. Put-together. Disciplined. Courteous. Ambitious.
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Negative Traits: Petty. Gullible. Vain. Lore remembers all who have wronged her. She will forever hold malice for those who orchestrated the fall of her kingdom and family, forever remember those who rejected her and caused her harm. With little physical prowess or power, she relies on her silver tongue and piercing insults, but it's plain to see that she is all bark and no bite, leashed by her inability to cause physical harm. She finds insults in the smallest things, retorts as the slightest perceived criticism. When knocked from the pedestal she has put herself on, she is flighty, skittish. It is her mission to protect herself, to strike first and at the first sign on danger, then flee. She is easily manipulated, when finding those that agree with her or choose to follow her, she overlooks everything else. Her trust is a fragile and fickle thing, she is unsure if she even trusts herself. So when she finds those that seemingly support her, she brings down her walls. Despite how much she sees herself as a leader and visionary, Lorensei is a follower. She is happy to go along with others' plans, as long as she holds some power. She believes she's smart and guarded, but when the time comes and she realizes she has been duped, she would be utterly powerless. This makes her susceptible to toxicity, to lightly veiled manipulation. Having been raised superior to others in Atlantis, she finds it hard to let go of privilege, of her bloodline. She truly believes she is better than others, that she deserves more. Often she wields her rule and name over others, and often she finds that they are useless tools in this foreign land. No one has heard of her kingdom, as if it is a figment of her imagination. Her name, to her bitter disappointment, holds no power here. Yet she still continues to lift her chin and bare her teeth, speaking of her home, of her bloodline, of the royalty running through her veins, unable to let go of what she had been, what she could've been. [break] [break] (-) Frivolous. Melodramatic. Self-centered. Unintelligent. Extravagant.
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Quirks/Fun Facts: Being from a riverside kingdom, Lore is a superb swimmer, often diving to the bottom of rivers and lakes searching for pretty stones or shells.
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A vain and pretty thing, obsessed with what has been and could be. She desires a brighter future like a moth to a flame. Lorensei is foolish and haunted dreamer, hungering for something more. Easily molded and manipulated for her greed and spite, she is a catalyst for destruction. Preferring not to think for herself, leaving others to do her dirty work, she could spend her days admiring her own reflection. Born and raised in a prospering kingdom, she sees her past in the future, wants to create it for herself and others. Selfish and entitled, she thinks and holds herself above all others. Her entire life has been spent wasting time, training and learning to rule a kingdom that would not exist once she reached adulthood, she is childish and lacks personality.
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History
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Lorensei was born into prosperity, into the Golden Age of Atlantis. Her family was of powerful royalty, a pure line of Kings and Queens. She was a princess before she was a daughter, her only priority to learn to rule. She would be the pride of the Atlantaen Kingdom, she would lead her people into and through the light. This was her destiny, her purpose, what she was born and bred to be. [break] [break] Mother taught her to appreciate the beauty in the world, the licks of flame painted in the sunset, the chorus of birds, the water like molten silver flowing in the rivers and streams. It would all be hers one day, but not before she learned to love it, learned how to protect it. Father taught her to think, skills that have now been wasted, to observe. Everything has a purpose, it was there for a reason, and it was her duty to interpret the world around her, to open her eyes and see. [break] [break] Each day she would run through the kingdom, a grassy plain nestled securely between two mountain ranges, finding mentors in the horses living under their rule, finding lessons in the world around her. But however much her parents and other adult equines accepted and nurtured her, she could not find bonds in her peers. To them, she was just another haughty royal, obsessed with herself and her legacy. And however much it was true, it was also the only thing she knew how to be. Ren was raised to believe she was more adept than anyone else, had the privilege of education and good breeding. She had to be able to lead them well. But to the children, who only wanted to befriend the vain filly, this was not an acceptable reason, and others teased and looked down on her. [break] [break] Without the support of friends and pampered and encouraged by those older, she became bitter and conceited. Wy should she bother with others her age, if they were only going to reject her? She was their future queen and she was above that. [break] [break] Dark times soon struck the kingdom of Atlantis, and disaster followed. A shift in power, a rebellion within those who felt oppressed from the rulers who had led them into a better world. She remembers flashes of light, fire, rain, the scent of fear. Watching as new powers ascended. This, she would soon learn, was a cycle that could not be broken. Meaning that all her life, she had been raised and trained for nothing. And her parents, on some part, had known. The rise and fall of empires, she learned, was inevitable. And with the fall of her own empire, with the death of her parents, though it was their time, she was exiled, cast into the harsh, very real world without an ounce of knowledge. [break] [break] Somehow she made it. Made it out of the burning empire only to be caught in a strange, desolate world.
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OOC
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Is This Your First Character? No, I also have Emrys!
The flap of wings announced his arrival, a flock of birds taking off from somewhere in the grasses, fleeing at his movement. He ignored the frightened creatures, pushing through the vegetation with head held high, eyes searching. He was looking for something, someone, anything to ease the boredom. Since he had made his home in the Valley, he'd spent restless nights patrolling the area, committing his domain to memory, allowing himself to take it in. He'd had time to think a little, ride the high, found a place to sleep and slept well, knowing that this was his place. In finishing his review of his home, he decided he had better things to do than just walk around. After all, his kingdom needed subjects, the King was in need of a Queen. He was in no rush to find his muse, however, as he strode through the tall, golden grasses, the picture of relaxation, though alert. Time would bring her to him, and he'd spent moons with only himself for company. Having somewhere to rule over made no difference.
Onward he stepped, taking his time, picking his way through the plain, once in a while lifting his nose to scent the air or pause to take it in a little more.
It was in a moment of pause as such did he sight a swatch of red against the gold and green; framed against the gilded field and gray-blue sky was a chestnut horse. The stranger was not too far away, and seemed unaware of his presence. He gave a low snort in interest, tossing his head, and made his decision. He had little intention of letting the opportunity go, whether it be the opportunity to assert himself and his rule, or to find a willing subject. Or perhaps something else. At the end of the day, it was the same, and she was coming home.
Quickening his pace, he set off at an easy lope in her direction. If she was paying any sort of attention to her surroundings, she would see him coming. If not, well, all the more reason to approach.
With each step, rocks crumbled underfoot, rolling down the steep ledge, crashing and breaking somewhere below, the sounds carried away by the wind. This was of no concern to Emrys, however, as he made his careless descent on stiff legs. Stiff, because he'd spent quite some time roaming this new land with little rest. Dawn arose and dusk had settled many times, bright colors reflected in his dark eyes as he made his way through what was now his territory, leaving his mark on the land, claiming it as his own. For this purpose, his energy was limitless as the earth beneath him; for the sake of taking and keeping what he now had, he would continue into the horizon. He needn't remind himself that he was built for this, mind and body.
The ground was flattening as the sire traversed the Rift, dwarfed by the canyon walls, a speck in a scratch on the surface of the Earth. Wind whipped around him, whistling through the crevices carved into the ancient rock. As he ventured deeper, down to the bottom of the gorge, he wondered where it would take him. He did not want to stray too far from his territory, had decided he certainly did not want this inhospitable stretch of stone to be a part of his domain, his kingdom. Because he got to decide that now.
The world was darkening, his eyes adjusting to the low lighting. As he looked onward, a shadow appeared in his distant vicinity, a dark, equine shape in his vision. Awareness settled in the place of aloof pleasure, and the stallion straightened to his full height. Challenger, trespasser, prospective lover? Friend or foe? Unfortunately, there was not enough light to tell, and the wind was blowing whatever scent he could catch up and away. He wasted no time; there was no doubt that the stranger had already been alerted to his presence, while they were a shadowed, murky thing, his markings would give him away in the night, pieces of a ghost framed by the inky sky and gray walls. His approach was swift, and no sooner did he get within a respectable distance did the dark stranger utter a low "Hello."
And so he relayed the greeting, choosing to be cordial. For now. "Hello." He'd purr, circling. Watching through the darkness, waiting. "And who might you be?"
01. Absolute Loyalty to the Crown. Self-explanatory. There's no room for betrayal here, no room for questions. Well, except for when your king asks you to jump- because then you'd say, how high? 02. Absolute Trust in the King. The Majesty knows best. 03. Per Aspera ad Astra. Those capable of fulfilling their and the Auratus' interests will be allowed promotion. Prove yourself, suffer enough for the Kingdom's gain, and you'll be rewarded. 04. Traitors Will Be...Removed. 05. Have Courage but Not Audacity. 06. Others Before Yourself. [break] Herd Joining: Please post a thread and alert me(tag, Discord, etc) so they can meet Emrys and/or the rest of the herd!
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Quick Join
If you want to quick join your horse, DM me on Discord(sequoia4595) or message me from my profile! We can then work out details.
The gilded stallion was far beyond the point of no return. Had been for a long time, actually. He was sitting on the edge of crossing into another world entirely, both in his physical and mental state. Before him, the nature spread her open arms, and here he stood, cradled between them. Between the hills, between sky and earth.
Dividing the valley wound a silver river, a never-ending serpent on it's journey into the horizon, with no end nor beginning in sight. Here he stood on the edge of something new. Untamed, undiscovered, pristine, and he would make it his own. Here he would build an everlasting kingdom. He would fight for it, watch it grow under his nurturing, see it fall under his command. Here he would bear his legacy, for he had spent long enough without one. This slice of the world was at his disposal. It would prosper as he would, suffer when he suffered.
Grasses brushed at his heels with the breeze, catching his attention. With a snort, he dropped his head, burying his nose in the vegetation, scenting the life, the green, the rich soil beneath, fed by the mountain rain and melting snow. The life he sought to possess. The light in the life that he alone would smother or feed. Because of all that he had sacrificed, and all that he'd lost.
The world around him spun as he was briefly engulfed in a sense of euphoria and in the realization that this was all for his taking. The buckskin stallion's breathing stilled, senses dulled for the duration of a moment. And when it all came rushing back in, sweeter than before, he huffed a breath and lifted his eyes to the azure heavens, drinking the draught of the air, the breeze that carried the songs of glory to his ears, ancient melodies floating by.
This new land, this feeling, it was his. And he was going to do whatever it took him to keep it.
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Damned are those who turn their backs on me.
- 333 words. Emrys getting high on dirt and oxygen lol Claiming of the Valley.
Distinguishing Markings: Tobiano. Skull-like facial marking only seen on right profile. Unmarred by scars, surprisingly. A testament to his inexperience, or a sign of ability?
Emrys is one to watch and learn. His eyes see all, and he remembers things in great detail. Memories, all of them, thoughts, words, scents, and pictures. All vibrant and vivid, behind his eyes. Flaws and stumbles are noted, never unseen, filed away in the deepest corners of his mind. Not only is Emrys proficient in this; he also has a talent for reading the room. Highly emotionally intelligent, he can recognize a situation and learn the best way to turn it in his own favor with subtle words or actions to create his desired result. It’s the small things that count. Resourceful and creative, there is no obstacle he cannot overcome if he sets his mind to it. It pays off, as an artist with words he can bend and deceive the mind. Beauty is nothing without brains, and a personality to go with it. Rys lets the good things shine through, the intelligence, the sly, seductive smiles, the noble honor that he fakes, all while keeping the terrible things under the surface, lying in wait for just the right moment to strike. A star to those who he wants to be, and a snake to those who are foolish enough to come too close. [break] [break] (+) Adaptable. Determined. Courageous. Noble. Protective.
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Negative Traits: Obsessive. Violent. Narcissist.
Easily infatuated with those who happen to cross into his life and certain ideals, Rys is one to become tunnel-visioned, hyper-focused on one point. His daily demons could consume his world with this trait he harbors, the need for constant closeness, the need to know more or to be near another, to know their secrets better than he knows himself. To lock them, chain others to himself, forever in his grasp. It doesn’t come from the fear of losing them, but the constant need to keep those who interest him, those he wishes to control a part of his life. As a crazed lover, Emrys will pursue his obsessions. They cloud his mind and tamper with his judgment, a flaw that is also beneficial. His control complex allows for his life to be rather easy, if he knows exactly what is going on, is able to control it, he can bask in the power, and revel in the fact that he has no worries for betrayal, for those he loves and so viciously keeps by his side to leave him. He strives to stand on a pedestal for the feeling of standing on a pedestal. It is not a noble cause, nothing for his own personal gain. It's because he needs it. The demons that have possessed him should be kept at bay with blood. But it is temporary, and although there are rushes of adrenaline and the feeling of superiority that come from the control he holds, it is always comforting to know he has it, makes him content to see things going the way they should. Sometimes when he thinks too much, he realizes that he is a sinner, a rather malicious entity, and yet he tells himself everyone is a sinner, and validates his wrongdoings by making himself believe in holding such an obscene amount of control. With this comes an insane fury when he is disobeyed when his control is rejected, when his advances are not returned, when he cannot rise to meet a challenge. It is a burning fury unmatched by others, almost a tantrum, but with an evil and sadistic violence that others cannot bear to watch. He has killed before in great fits of rage, a harbinger of destruction, a berserker set upon a single goal; to quell the fury for which he has been wronged. In the end, he felt no remorse and never will, he had protected those which were his own. Should he fail…all Hell would break loose. And so, in the fashion of every antagonist, every villain, and the one that he is, Rys is every bit a narcissist. Everything he does, his actions, words, and thoughts, all reflect and point toward his own interests and ideals, for himself and his gain only. He plots and schemes so situations benefit only himself, never willing to share his success with others unless they are those he holds dear and shackles to himself. [break] [break] (-) Womanizer. Neurotic. Delusional. Hypocrite. Domineering.
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[break] [break] Quirks/Fun Facts: A bad habit of rearranging items in his environment to his liking. Restrained god complex. He likes the scent of wildflowers, though the memories of them have been corrupted. They were his mother's scent, and he remembers a distinct sense of comfort that their perfume offers, of before he realized what a disgusting world he'd been born into.
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A creature trapped in his need for control, driven by the urge to manipulate, dominate, and protect what her perceives as his own. However, darkness has yet to possess him, for he holds some semblance of morality in the fact that he is willing to do whatever for those he chooses to love. He only asks that they allow for his rule. Watchful, inventive, and compelling, anyone's first glance would most likely leave them drooling. Blatant in his ambition and value of the protection of those he holds close, Emrys is deceptively heroic. This stallion is a powerhouse for aspirations, always hungering, starving for more, and it shows. Deep inside his confident and enticing frame slumbers a vengeful and domineering god. It matters not how he does it, but he will keep those he is loyal to close, with darker intentions, he wishes to keep those useful to him, those he desire, always at his side. Nothing and no one is off limits to his ministrations and brazen charisma. He sees everyone as a challenge, whether it as a romantic challenge; one to conquer, or a spirit to quench and claim his own. There is benefit to his protection, if you are willing to give your freedom.
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"Make me king, and I will offer you the fruits of my kingdom, [break] [break] Make me your god, and I will protect you from the world's wrath, [break] [break] But only if you'll allow me this power." [break] [break] - [break] [break] "So many men, they risk so little. They spend their lives avoiding danger. And then they die. I'd risk everything to get what I want in this life. [break] [break] "And what do you want?" [break] [break] "Everything." [break]
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History
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Emrys hails from lands unknown. He was born to a mare within a harem, his sire their leader. Not long after his birth did he realize that Mother was aloof and angelic, untethered to responsibility, and spoiled. As he grew older, the young stallion grew disgusted of her obedience, her contentment with her position, the fact she was living life as she was, as someone who never yearned for something more. It was as if she had been tamed by a life she had not yet lived. It was her duty to birth him; to reproduce, to drive the survival of the species, to fuel future generations in their herd. But as fate befalls all male equines, Rys was doomed to become a bachelor. He would be on his own soon before he realized that exact fact. He was driven from the harem by his sire; had watched others do the same. For a while he wandered the land, his spirit strong and heart full, even if he was alone. But he would not be a lone soul for long. For each he met on his journey, he offered a place by his side. There were those he could not convince to walk life’s journey alongside himself, but for the brothers he had made, he was happy. He was equal within a group of bachelors; didn’t have to worry about being ordered around, didn’t fear some higher power. It was a life he wanted; he had no interest in following, of being a sheep to someone who thought they were a lion. He loved his brothers-in-arms, their system had no flaws. Unwavering support for each other, all driven by the need to survive and the refusal to follow. [break] [break] Good times never last long, however. They were growing up, and it was time to put everything they had endured to use. Fortunately, as the six of them walked their separate ways, he was able to bring two of the others to accompany him. They were a good trio, Emrys a natural leader who unconsciously assumed the place at the front of the pack. But it was soon realized that this was not their purpose, indeed it contradicted everything they had wanted and had. The others could not follow his lead when they were destined for their own. Weren’t they supposed to be equal? With this thought plaguing his companions’ minds, they sought to leave rather than fight their way out, decided to abandon Emrys rather than break his fragile heart and wavering pride. A small mercy, but in the buckskin stallion’s vision, the ultimate disrespect. Could the closest friends he’d ever had not stand up to him? Did they fear a brother, or did they see him so incapable of taking on their challenge? Little did he know that it would do no good for his friends to confront him, and they were wise to leave before he awoke. His companions, friends, brothers, stalked off in the night, leaving him to fend for himself. A seething sense of betrayal fell over him then; it has not since left, planting roots into his soul. He is bitter and paranoid, an old wound festering in his heart, and has told himself, perhaps too many times, that those who stay by his side would never leave him. That he would do anything to ensure that, avoid the sense of betrayal or vanquish a traitor in the process. [break] [break] So the rest of his journey was made alone, his only company the darkening thoughts and emotions associated with betrayal, control, and paranoia.
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OOC
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Is This Your First Character? Yes.
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Notes: Transitioning from Our Homeland.
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Credits: Lineart by Averfour on deviantArt. *link*