Post by GREYtheFLAILER on Jan 10, 2012 1:49:18 GMT -5
LOOKING GLASS[/b][/font][/center]
THE 4-1-1[/size]
Full Name: Looking Glass
Nickname(s): --
Age: Six
Gender: Male
Species: Horse
Breed(s): Shire/Clydesdale/Belgian/Warmblood
Other: --
BODY,[/size][/font]
Coat Color: Black, despite his wide blaze and white feathers
Eye Color: Dark, dark brown; nearly ebony
Height: 18.0hh at the withers
Weight: About 1, 900 pounds
Markings: Stockings, A wide Blaze
Scars, birthmarks, etc: His entire body is marred with scars; there's far too may to count
MIND,
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Looking Glass may seem like most of the other stallions running about here, though if you truly get to know and understand him, you will realize he's much more than another face in the crowd. He's overly intelligent and observant; a horse that will be able to judge your intentions within a moment's glance, and in turn, react immediately according to said observations. Once he does believe something about someone, however, it takes a long while, as well as good reasoning, to change his opinion. He's hesitant towards change, and it takes persistence to gain his trust. The second this stallion begins to question someone's loyalty, there's no chance he will open up to them, even in the slightest. He will often close off all emotion, and in general, completely ignore said offender. He won't shy away from another he believes could possibly be against him, but instead simply look on as if he isn't even there, or act aggressively.
Now, although he's overly intelligent and calculating, not many see the stallion as such. This, often, is because of his tendency to go into a somewhat blinding and uncontrollable rage. It's not as if his eyes go red and he starts blowing steam from his ears, but the stallion does have one hell of a temper. And, when someone annoys him in such a fragile time between anger and sanity, he will, quite frankly, snap. And by snap, I literally mean lash out towards. Physically, or verbally. He's very skilled in the line of battle, and doesn't feel threatened by much. He's, in a way, fearless. Or, that's how he strives to be seen by others. He fears love, discreetly, although not many know of such a fear.
Finally, Looking Glass is not a naturally nice horse. He has a compulsive and instinctive way of thinking, in which often leads him to acting outwardly to others. He loves to start fights and conflict, and acts as dominant as he can, wherever he goes. He's possessive, controlling, and utterly confident in who he is, and what he can accomplish. He's one that loves testing the nerves and abilities of others, be it man or horse, and when he knows he has the advantage, he will flaunt it with no mercy.
SOUL.
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Looking Glass' history is, as expected, nowhere near the fairy-tale some live's turn out to be. It, in all truthfulness, is the real reason behind his hardened, furious, and somewhat nasty disposition throughout life. Now, Looking Glass was born wild, however, not on the island. He's been through a hell of a lot within the six years he's lived, and it all started when he'd just turned two. Looking Glass had been birthed from his mother, a larger painted stockhorse, and his father, a mutt draft stallion responsible for his looks and size. He grew up in the small herd of five until he was nearly two, in which his father drove him out, like every band stallion does when a colt reaches such an age of maturity. Looking Glass did well on his own, however short a time that was, and soon came across a small band of Bachelors, all younger, inexperienced, and rowdy much like himself. He ran with them for a good period of time, before the time of the roundups came, and the entire band of eight young, enthusiastic stallions were herded into a larger, circular pen, separated, tagged, and ready to be sold. They reacted like most horses did, mostly calmly, however they were all nervous, and very curious towards all that was going on around them.
Back then, Looking Glass was an exceptional little colt. He was well-behaved, calm, and didn't have a mean bone within his body.
But, see, man was able to change that.
The older fellow that purchased Looking Glass wasn't nearly considered a nice man, and was from out of town. No one knew him, nor did they know of his devious intentions. He purchased the young stallion without much of a competition, due to the lack of people wanting a thickly built brute, and tied him to his other horse as calmly as any man would. It was after the young stallion had been tied up, and transported an hour away back to the stranger's farm, that the problems started. He was untied, and as any wild horse trying to be shoved into a stall would, he spooked. The stallion reared, jerking his head in attempt to break free from the halter that so offensively held him captive, and in return to the movement, the man that had purchased him hit him. Hard. And, it didn't stop there. It became rather routine, for the months following. Looking Glass was expected to do what the man wished, or face the consequences.
Needles to say, he became a quick learner.
He became a headshy, scared, obedient young stallion, though only around humans. When introduced to his stable mates, Looking Glass turned vicious, pinning his ears and snaking the other beasts out of his personal space. This sparked an idea within the twisted individual the owned the stallion. He liked to fight, so why not let him do so, and get a reward for it? The man had participated in horse fighting before, and knew very well it was a risky business. So, he gave the stallion a name; Looking Glass, due to the fact in the book Alice in Wonderland a looking glass was a portal to the wonderland, and he hoped Looking Glass would be his portal to wealth and fame. After spending a year training and infuriating Looking Glass, he felt the stallion was ready. And trust me, he was. The other horses weren't nearly competition, and he flourished within such circumstances. The other horses were strong as well, certainly, however Looking Glass had the smarts that came with growing up in the wild. He quickly moved up in ranks, and became rather popular in the horse fighting community.
This went on until he was just over four.
It was then, that the stallion snapped.
People labeled the even as a freak accident. It was an early morning fight, and after Looking Glass' opponent lay on the ground beneath his hooves limp, the stallion didn't calm down. Rage had entirely taken over his form, and he leapt from the pit into the stands, rather clumsily and angrily at that, in a desperate try for escape. Ten people were injured, two killed, leaving Looking Glass' reputation forever changed. He turned into a monster, one that should be killed and forgotten. But see, the stallion's owner didn't want to get rid of the stallion that easily. So, he put the horse up for sale as a good working, plough horse, and was surprised when a rancher nearly halfway across the world contacted him, amazed by his great description of the animal. He wanted to see LG, and insisted the two come in order for him to look over the horse, cost-free.
A purchase and a few months later, after the new owner ended up seriously injured in a carriage accident, Looking Glass was shipped off; too brutal and aggressive, to be considered safe around humans. He was dumped onto the island, as, given his wild heritage, he was expected to thrive.
NOTE: Duke, my male who is soon to come, is owned by the same man, hence the similarities in pasts.
(DO THIS PART ONCE)
Your Name: GREYtheFLAILER
Joining Password: nylassi
Where did you find us? MUSTANG, brobro!
RP Example:
NOTE: This is uncoded and unattractive. D:[/size]
.xXx. A brutal, ear-piercing screech in absolute agony echoed loudly throughout the lands just as Looking Glass made his leisurely way over the border, the blatantly wretched sound causing his lips to pull into a somewhat twisted, mocking little sneer. It would take an overly oblivious, snivelling fool to realise that this land - the Rogue Battle grounds - was not nearly a place of peace, but rather one of pain, death, and the colliding of fire and fury. Many equines feared such a dreadful place, in which the potent smell of blood and death loomed overhead much like the lingering smoke of a past fire, though for Looking Glass, this was certainly not the case.
Due to many, many years of monstrous abuse and being treated poorly, the previously dapper, playful youngster had begun to take on a deadly shift long ago, resulting in a nearly unfathomable amount of buried, explosive rage. Within a few short months of such torture, the young stallion could no longer be stored near or around other equines, as without binds or restraints, he would savagely wreak havoc upon the ones surrounding him. He became a merciless animal, killing on demand at any time he came into contact with another being, only to be praised afterwards, by his cruel, two-legged master. It became a deadly cycle, this need to kill and come out victorious, in order to save himself from the severe beatings that would come otherwise. The stallion, in all ways, had become very much like a machine, a monster; slaughtering when told to do so, before being turned off, and stored away until next time.
So, as I’m sure you can imagine, distressed squeals of pain no longer bothered the stallion, but instead, came as a comfort.
In a place most considered as the equivalent to hell, Looking Glass felt at home.
A sickening reality to most, perhaps, though the stallion himself wasn’t rightly bothered by such a fact. If anything, he felt stronger because of it; he’d grown up around bloodshed and pain, and it was due to this that he had become overly experienced in the field of battle. However, of course, Looking Glass couldn’t know how much experience this certain Faolan character held within his smaller, yet stocky frame, but the ebon hellion figured he’d come to find out within good time. His thoughts drifted towards such things as he carried his marred form forwards, each and every step radiating of power and strength, as his hooves pounded lightly against the hardened earth to a steady, collected rhythm. One might not guess that such a resilient stallion was heading to battle with a mere glance, due to the fact his exterior seemed to cast an air of genuine relaxation and a feeling of absolute contentment; ears perked forwards, gait slowed, more nonchalant. It may seem more realistic to get the adrenaline flowing for such an event, but the fact that Looking Glass was so used to this—the fighting and the conflict—tended to suck the life out of the experience almost entirely. But surely, when the time came to butt heads with the band stallion and release his wrath upon Faolan, Looking Glass was entirely sure he wouldn’t come up short.
As far as he was concerned, Faolan could drop dead, and he wouldn’t give a flying shit.
The stallion inhaled deeply as he began rounding a smaller hill within the terra, his velvety, pale nostrils flaring to the widest of their ability as his chest rose rather dramatically with the action. It seemed as if there weren’t many other beings nearby, though Looking Glass knew very well that the scent of blood and sweat could easily drown out those of a living, breathing being. Faolan would be close behind, that much Looking Glass was vitally aware of, though the ebony brute had always held a wee bit of impatience within his hulking frame. The tardiness of others had, for as long as Looking Glass could remember, been something that always succeeded in thoroughly pissing him off, however the brute vaguely supposed that made him somewhat of a hypocrite, being that he often ran late, when in the company of others. Though, he didn’t give much of a care to the fact as he finally approached the top of the smaller hill, a warmer, summer breeze causing his banner to whip wildly about his facial features. The stallion let out a harsh snort, his azure orbs raking across what visible land he could feast his eyes over, as adrenaline rapidly began to course through his veins. The barren, forbidding-looking terrain caused excitement to bubble up within the male’s core with thoughts of what was to come, and the brute tossed his head in a rather adrenaline-fuelled, aggressive manner, pawing savagely at the dry surface beneath his hooves.
It took him mere moments to decide that this was the spot in which he would summon his opponent, and Looking Glass arched his neck in anticipation, the muscles lining the front of his body pulling taught in reaction to the rather vigorous action. He cast a wild glance about him once again, jerking his head back up to restore himself to his full, massive height of eighteen-hands, before hauling his front hooves from the earth below, a single, booming battle cry exploding forth from his throat in doing so. It was an unpleasant, nasty noise to the ears; one that would have foals cowering in a pathetic display of fear behind their mothers, and one that would have the most experienced of brutes on edge, and fearing the worst.
Looking Glass fully intended to make it as clear as possible to Faolan that he meant business; that his bite was far, far worse than his bark.
The brute landed but a moment later, front hooves colliding with the earth below, before speaking, his masculine, gravelly voice very demanding and powerful. “Faolan, make your appearance known!” He called, forcing out another hoarse snort. His eyes narrowed into menacing little slits as he waited atop the large hill, a raging hunger for bloodshed and victory beginning to slowly devour what was left of his previously casual attitude. “Sound the drums of war.” Looking Glass muttered discreetly to himself, a devilish little sneer curving his lips with the comment.
If it was a fight Faolan wanted, it was a fight he was going to get.
