Post by ashei on Jan 7, 2012 0:36:10 GMT -5
Name: Alexandra Vivette L’Rouge
Age: iii years
Gender: Mare
Breed: {Missouri Fox Trotter; Peruvian Paso; Mustang; Draft} Mutt
Height: 16.1 hh
Coat Color: Auburn
Mane/tail Color: Mahogany
Eye Color: Blue
Markings: White blaze and two white socks, hind left and front right
Alignment: Neutral
Personality: A rose, draped in velvet no matter how soft still houses the blooming toxins buried within her delicate thorns, much like the poisons cloaking Snow White’s famed poison apple. Thee venomous desires are hidden, corroding her black wicked heart within the scopes of kaleidoscope dreams which haunt her mind; dreams of sacred ambitions and lusting prowess. It is not the thrills of power she pines for, the lucrative sweet possession of golden crowns for in time the cherished metal fades and tarnishes, cracked beneath the hallow light of an ascended moon. A crown will do nothing to protect the fragility of a skewered heart once betrayed by what she had once deemed love; no, not even the most honed of guards will be able to save you from the blind nocturne fantasias of bitter sweet impassioned anguish from sallow veins. It is only a will strong enough to defy those who wish to suppress and the lethargic melody of her voice to keep them astray. She thirsts not for solitude, but for respect and recognition – to simply be remembered as a goddess, loved and adored by all those she would have see her as such. To be passed into time an immortal statue and a glorious monolith of a time forgotten when years have left her body crumbled in her grave. She wishes to be seen as a kind and wonderful woman, but her cruel and malicious soul refuse to let her become this picturesque purity she so seeks to harness as her own. Instead she will fake and imitate the tenderness she bleeds for, hiding her true self behind a mirror of make believe and a well fortified mask. She is no more than a shadow, a fleeting miasma of wraithish proportions dwelling in a world of light, yet yearning to once again be one with the darkness at the same moment forcing her to a tread the knife’s edge of neutrality. In the land of mirages she is a maiden of immense quietude, genteel and like the sweetest honey, the flame of innocence burning within her immaculate gaze, but if one looks deep enough into those pools, they will find themselves drowning within her immense desire and insatiable thirst for her original Miss Murder debonair.
She houses an obsessive mannerism, her love more a prison than any blessing, caged within the throes of her possession. Though delicate in appearances, she will not hesitate to strike at one who tries to steal from her, either in a queen’s manner and ruin a broken mind with spit-fire words, or in the eyes of a more barbaric king even physically seek to undo the wrong she feels that was wrought upon her. Malignant, she is a venomous temptress as well, once she has her eyes set on something she refuses to relinquish her grip until either the life is crushed from the feeble body or until it is made hers in its entirety. She may at times even stoop into manipulation; though she never lies she may tell half truths and twist the meaning of words to where she is on the border of what she had sworn off. Conflicted within herself, she often enjoys witnessing the disputes of others and if you are an enemy, she will not hesitate in a moment to strike a devastating blow, like a coiled viper waiting its moment to sink in its basilisk fangs the bewitching huntress will not miss any opportunity to see those who oppose her destroyed. With a brittle smile she will observe others, a dainty expression to fool the true mechanics which wheel like delicate clockwork in her mind. Weak spots, what she desires, strength, these are the traits she searches for before beginning to truly look at the full person before her. An analytical fiend at times, robotic in the way she automatically places the sinuous grace of kindness over her like a gossamer veil she is an enigmatic trickster and sovereign power when she wishes. Other times she is as treacherous and dark as Poseidon’s inky mires, thunderous rage billowing like maelstrom winds through her frame, anger giving her a false strength. Malice in Wonderland, beyond the fallen wall of make believe and the tragic curtains of reality. A walking contradiction you seem my love, but you are an imperfect, beautiful mess – you belong to me, my Shadow Queen.
History: She was born to the court of shadows, looming in the palace of cracked insolence as a mere upper servant to the queen of a paramour dead. The king was a jealous man, one who would seek revenge and it was under his whims that she was taught to do wrong unto those who had done it to you. It was one night in which he tried to drag her into his bed, an ugly wench with matted hair and soulful eyes to take the light from those bewitching orbs set in the lovely shape of her skull. No one believe if she whispered a single ounce of truth about what happened, no one would truly think that he would sink to such levels as this lowly wretch. She escaped, fleeing into the day where he dared not tread, only in the wicked cover of night was the fervent creature a bothersome thought and then it was that she sought out Bloody Mary, a hellish woman of fire, her hair coiled into a crown of wrathful thorns about her brows, her gown one of pure white, laced in gold around her ankles. She was a woman who believed herself loved by her people yet in her arrogance she was a tyrant, one who usurped the throne from her delicate older sister and stole it for herself, the king only wishing to have a strong queen, beauty nor personality mattered not. It was her mother who had been killed that day, driven away by this devilish witch into the fields of flooded plains and murdered among the carrion fowl where her body was left for them to feast upon. It was then that her own title had been ripped away so cruelly and she was forced to endure the humiliation of becoming a servant to her aunt. Speaking of the events that has taken place of course enraged the Queen of Hearts, setting flame under her unleashed temper. She rose off her precious throne, scepter held in her fingers and pointed the carmine ruby at the eloquent servant with briars tangled in the mass of her once silken brunette locks, calling her a liar and sending her for punishment. In her cell, her cage that malevolent man came once again, taunting her through the bars of her prison. “It is I who will teach you everything you know, Alexandra, I will break you into my image, mold you with careful hands to mimic my movements like a languid puppet which I wanted your mother to do. I see the same beauty in your eyes that I saw in hers, and if I cannot take it from you – I will make it mine.†The words were whispered harshly from between his gnashing teeth. “Will you not take an eye for an eye? You did nothing wrong, child. It was not you who lied, was it? She is an evil woman, destroying the serene twilight of my kingdom of darkness… The throne was rightfully yours the instant your mother died in those dull fields. Will you not rise up and take it back? For your dear mother…†At that time, the anguish drunken child had had no idea she was being manipulated, naïve in the ways of the world, she only could discern one thing, the uncontainable desire for revenge that smoldered like embers in her heart. Against her, and then him. Was it not also his fault that she was here? That the scars of the whip were etched into her flesh? After all it was because of him she had first went to the cruel woman. Yes, she would take care of her first, then she would turn on the hand that fed her. She would be queen, alone within her towers, never would she allow a king to be placed on a pedestal above her.
As the days after her release began to pass by and her quiet servitude to that malicious fiend drew no worrisome signs of the woman’s paranoia, she began to look through her things, looking for any signs that she could use to her advantage. Clearly the king was on her side as long as she ridded him of his dreadful bride. It was then she found the clue she had been awaiting, a gift given to her by a man. She recognized it as a bribe given from one of her suitor’s that she had possessed after slaying Alexandra’s dear mother. Bringing it to the king as evidence of his queen’s supposed betrayal to him, the woman of fire was swiftly executed the next morning and Alexandra was named the child bride of the king which she endured the stares of the people in what would soon be her courtyard and hers alone. She was queen now, and she would be a kind queen, loved by the people, cherished and adored by all within her kingdom. A breathless sigh exalted her lungs, an uplifting thought to help her pass through the following days in which she avoided that shadowed creature who constantly sought her within the evening hours in the castle corridors. Not long after she was crowned matriarch, she had sent one of her servant’s into the Black Hills of their domain after a poisonous herb which would finally drive the last nail in the coffin of her suffering. With but a sip of the toxic plants brew, she would at last have her much awaited revenge against both of those who had wronged her. Yes, she would be in his image, she would do unto him as he had done to her mother and tried to do to her. A foolish man he seemed indeed, unsuspecting even as she crushed the root in placed it in his chalice, brining him the last sips of red wine he would taste with mortality. As he lay on the floor, dying, she stood over him, staring maliciously into his eyes of gold, hunter’s gaze fixed on the lying innocence of her own. “I will watch the beauty fade from your eyes, my King… As you wished to see bleed from mine,†her voice whispered to the quiet night, ruby lips clenched into a tight line of bitter anger finally drawing its final breath as he exuded his and sightless eyes continued to stare at her in gruesome blame.
After she had come of age to take a king, she refused, repeatedly though many came to her with proposals and promises. Young princes and old kings wishing to ally their kingdoms or seek more power with a bond of mutual trust sealed with marriage vows. All of them she politely reclined, meeting her chosen love in secret, spending hours alone in the gardens with him in the solitude of night, yet neither of them sought to be married – so it would seem. She was unsure when he had asked her to wed him, breaking a vow to herself or denying him and turning him away as well as the only love she had ever known. At long last she decided she would become a bride once again, only to be shot through the heart with a barbed arrow when he had run into the night the very eve that they were to become married. Locking herself away, months later she followed in his footsteps, fleeing the kingdom and abandoning its crown to search for something more than what she had, greed consuming her. Her people had loved her, she was a benevolent ruler and she was well known as a very kind woman, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy her. To know that even one person would choose to run from her than bask in the kindness that she wished to exude. She could not rest peacefully within her tower with the knowledge that she could not have him after he made her promise herself to him. It was unforgivable. And so, she began to wander, casting aside her title as queen and instead choosing to become the servant once more if she had to.
*cough* Sorry this is so long and all >.< In summary:
1| She was born in a dark court, her mother was queen
2| Her aunt murdered her mother to become queen
3| The king tried to rape her and she barely escaped, going to the queen she was imprisoned and beaten for ‘lying’
4| The king set in motion her causing her aunt to be executed (and she was then married to the king and named queen), then his own death because of a poisonous herb she put in his drink
5| She was left at the alter as the sole ruler of the domain and then abandoned her kingdom in search of the one who had left her, consumed by jealousy and greed that she could not have everyone love her as she wished.
6| She now wanders around, no longer claiming the title of queen or trying to retain any of her ties to royalty.
Age: iii years
Gender: Mare
Breed: {Missouri Fox Trotter; Peruvian Paso; Mustang; Draft} Mutt
Height: 16.1 hh
Coat Color: Auburn
Mane/tail Color: Mahogany
Eye Color: Blue
Markings: White blaze and two white socks, hind left and front right
Alignment: Neutral
Personality: A rose, draped in velvet no matter how soft still houses the blooming toxins buried within her delicate thorns, much like the poisons cloaking Snow White’s famed poison apple. Thee venomous desires are hidden, corroding her black wicked heart within the scopes of kaleidoscope dreams which haunt her mind; dreams of sacred ambitions and lusting prowess. It is not the thrills of power she pines for, the lucrative sweet possession of golden crowns for in time the cherished metal fades and tarnishes, cracked beneath the hallow light of an ascended moon. A crown will do nothing to protect the fragility of a skewered heart once betrayed by what she had once deemed love; no, not even the most honed of guards will be able to save you from the blind nocturne fantasias of bitter sweet impassioned anguish from sallow veins. It is only a will strong enough to defy those who wish to suppress and the lethargic melody of her voice to keep them astray. She thirsts not for solitude, but for respect and recognition – to simply be remembered as a goddess, loved and adored by all those she would have see her as such. To be passed into time an immortal statue and a glorious monolith of a time forgotten when years have left her body crumbled in her grave. She wishes to be seen as a kind and wonderful woman, but her cruel and malicious soul refuse to let her become this picturesque purity she so seeks to harness as her own. Instead she will fake and imitate the tenderness she bleeds for, hiding her true self behind a mirror of make believe and a well fortified mask. She is no more than a shadow, a fleeting miasma of wraithish proportions dwelling in a world of light, yet yearning to once again be one with the darkness at the same moment forcing her to a tread the knife’s edge of neutrality. In the land of mirages she is a maiden of immense quietude, genteel and like the sweetest honey, the flame of innocence burning within her immaculate gaze, but if one looks deep enough into those pools, they will find themselves drowning within her immense desire and insatiable thirst for her original Miss Murder debonair.
She houses an obsessive mannerism, her love more a prison than any blessing, caged within the throes of her possession. Though delicate in appearances, she will not hesitate to strike at one who tries to steal from her, either in a queen’s manner and ruin a broken mind with spit-fire words, or in the eyes of a more barbaric king even physically seek to undo the wrong she feels that was wrought upon her. Malignant, she is a venomous temptress as well, once she has her eyes set on something she refuses to relinquish her grip until either the life is crushed from the feeble body or until it is made hers in its entirety. She may at times even stoop into manipulation; though she never lies she may tell half truths and twist the meaning of words to where she is on the border of what she had sworn off. Conflicted within herself, she often enjoys witnessing the disputes of others and if you are an enemy, she will not hesitate in a moment to strike a devastating blow, like a coiled viper waiting its moment to sink in its basilisk fangs the bewitching huntress will not miss any opportunity to see those who oppose her destroyed. With a brittle smile she will observe others, a dainty expression to fool the true mechanics which wheel like delicate clockwork in her mind. Weak spots, what she desires, strength, these are the traits she searches for before beginning to truly look at the full person before her. An analytical fiend at times, robotic in the way she automatically places the sinuous grace of kindness over her like a gossamer veil she is an enigmatic trickster and sovereign power when she wishes. Other times she is as treacherous and dark as Poseidon’s inky mires, thunderous rage billowing like maelstrom winds through her frame, anger giving her a false strength. Malice in Wonderland, beyond the fallen wall of make believe and the tragic curtains of reality. A walking contradiction you seem my love, but you are an imperfect, beautiful mess – you belong to me, my Shadow Queen.
History: She was born to the court of shadows, looming in the palace of cracked insolence as a mere upper servant to the queen of a paramour dead. The king was a jealous man, one who would seek revenge and it was under his whims that she was taught to do wrong unto those who had done it to you. It was one night in which he tried to drag her into his bed, an ugly wench with matted hair and soulful eyes to take the light from those bewitching orbs set in the lovely shape of her skull. No one believe if she whispered a single ounce of truth about what happened, no one would truly think that he would sink to such levels as this lowly wretch. She escaped, fleeing into the day where he dared not tread, only in the wicked cover of night was the fervent creature a bothersome thought and then it was that she sought out Bloody Mary, a hellish woman of fire, her hair coiled into a crown of wrathful thorns about her brows, her gown one of pure white, laced in gold around her ankles. She was a woman who believed herself loved by her people yet in her arrogance she was a tyrant, one who usurped the throne from her delicate older sister and stole it for herself, the king only wishing to have a strong queen, beauty nor personality mattered not. It was her mother who had been killed that day, driven away by this devilish witch into the fields of flooded plains and murdered among the carrion fowl where her body was left for them to feast upon. It was then that her own title had been ripped away so cruelly and she was forced to endure the humiliation of becoming a servant to her aunt. Speaking of the events that has taken place of course enraged the Queen of Hearts, setting flame under her unleashed temper. She rose off her precious throne, scepter held in her fingers and pointed the carmine ruby at the eloquent servant with briars tangled in the mass of her once silken brunette locks, calling her a liar and sending her for punishment. In her cell, her cage that malevolent man came once again, taunting her through the bars of her prison. “It is I who will teach you everything you know, Alexandra, I will break you into my image, mold you with careful hands to mimic my movements like a languid puppet which I wanted your mother to do. I see the same beauty in your eyes that I saw in hers, and if I cannot take it from you – I will make it mine.†The words were whispered harshly from between his gnashing teeth. “Will you not take an eye for an eye? You did nothing wrong, child. It was not you who lied, was it? She is an evil woman, destroying the serene twilight of my kingdom of darkness… The throne was rightfully yours the instant your mother died in those dull fields. Will you not rise up and take it back? For your dear mother…†At that time, the anguish drunken child had had no idea she was being manipulated, naïve in the ways of the world, she only could discern one thing, the uncontainable desire for revenge that smoldered like embers in her heart. Against her, and then him. Was it not also his fault that she was here? That the scars of the whip were etched into her flesh? After all it was because of him she had first went to the cruel woman. Yes, she would take care of her first, then she would turn on the hand that fed her. She would be queen, alone within her towers, never would she allow a king to be placed on a pedestal above her.
As the days after her release began to pass by and her quiet servitude to that malicious fiend drew no worrisome signs of the woman’s paranoia, she began to look through her things, looking for any signs that she could use to her advantage. Clearly the king was on her side as long as she ridded him of his dreadful bride. It was then she found the clue she had been awaiting, a gift given to her by a man. She recognized it as a bribe given from one of her suitor’s that she had possessed after slaying Alexandra’s dear mother. Bringing it to the king as evidence of his queen’s supposed betrayal to him, the woman of fire was swiftly executed the next morning and Alexandra was named the child bride of the king which she endured the stares of the people in what would soon be her courtyard and hers alone. She was queen now, and she would be a kind queen, loved by the people, cherished and adored by all within her kingdom. A breathless sigh exalted her lungs, an uplifting thought to help her pass through the following days in which she avoided that shadowed creature who constantly sought her within the evening hours in the castle corridors. Not long after she was crowned matriarch, she had sent one of her servant’s into the Black Hills of their domain after a poisonous herb which would finally drive the last nail in the coffin of her suffering. With but a sip of the toxic plants brew, she would at last have her much awaited revenge against both of those who had wronged her. Yes, she would be in his image, she would do unto him as he had done to her mother and tried to do to her. A foolish man he seemed indeed, unsuspecting even as she crushed the root in placed it in his chalice, brining him the last sips of red wine he would taste with mortality. As he lay on the floor, dying, she stood over him, staring maliciously into his eyes of gold, hunter’s gaze fixed on the lying innocence of her own. “I will watch the beauty fade from your eyes, my King… As you wished to see bleed from mine,†her voice whispered to the quiet night, ruby lips clenched into a tight line of bitter anger finally drawing its final breath as he exuded his and sightless eyes continued to stare at her in gruesome blame.
After she had come of age to take a king, she refused, repeatedly though many came to her with proposals and promises. Young princes and old kings wishing to ally their kingdoms or seek more power with a bond of mutual trust sealed with marriage vows. All of them she politely reclined, meeting her chosen love in secret, spending hours alone in the gardens with him in the solitude of night, yet neither of them sought to be married – so it would seem. She was unsure when he had asked her to wed him, breaking a vow to herself or denying him and turning him away as well as the only love she had ever known. At long last she decided she would become a bride once again, only to be shot through the heart with a barbed arrow when he had run into the night the very eve that they were to become married. Locking herself away, months later she followed in his footsteps, fleeing the kingdom and abandoning its crown to search for something more than what she had, greed consuming her. Her people had loved her, she was a benevolent ruler and she was well known as a very kind woman, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy her. To know that even one person would choose to run from her than bask in the kindness that she wished to exude. She could not rest peacefully within her tower with the knowledge that she could not have him after he made her promise herself to him. It was unforgivable. And so, she began to wander, casting aside her title as queen and instead choosing to become the servant once more if she had to.
*cough* Sorry this is so long and all >.< In summary:
1| She was born in a dark court, her mother was queen
2| Her aunt murdered her mother to become queen
3| The king tried to rape her and she barely escaped, going to the queen she was imprisoned and beaten for ‘lying’
4| The king set in motion her causing her aunt to be executed (and she was then married to the king and named queen), then his own death because of a poisonous herb she put in his drink
5| She was left at the alter as the sole ruler of the domain and then abandoned her kingdom in search of the one who had left her, consumed by jealousy and greed that she could not have everyone love her as she wished.
6| She now wanders around, no longer claiming the title of queen or trying to retain any of her ties to royalty.
