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 Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 7:34 am
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Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 7:36 am
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Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 7:38 am
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~ The parents ~
These foals won't exactly be raised in a warm and nurturing environment. Canaan fits well into the Lucifer method of parenting- use the kids when they're useful, but don't make a lot of bother when they're not. He won't be around much, just prancing in and out as it suits him. That means that Proserpina will be the one mainly raising the kids, and she has issues of her own.
Proserpina generally wants her children to do well, to be stronger and fiercer than the other foals on the block. She won't tolerate well what she perceives as weaknesses, and won't hesitate to use her claws on her own offspring if she feels that their stupidity deserves it.
Personality: Proserpina is crafty, clever, and dangerous. She cares for herself and doesn't think much about anyone else. She mostly keeps to herself and away from other soquili, unless she has something specific she needs them for. She doesn't take well to nosy intruders, and has been known to get violent when a stranger pushes her too far. She mostly stays quietly on her own, but she doesn't hesitate to show her displeasure when she is disturbed.
Personality:
Canaan may not fit a standard mould of "evil" set down by his family, cunning would be a more fitting description. He views the world as it best serves him, restraining base urges for violence or anger to better serve himself and gain creature comforts. He will rarely exert himself for others, but is sure to ensure his own well-being at all times. |
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Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 7:40 am
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~ The prompts ~
Today we have two prompts for you to choose from! Pick a prompt, any prompt, and we look forward to seeing what you come up with! biggrin
Prompt 1:
Quote: Even as a foal, you're aware that you're very different from most soquili. Maybe you have paws, or six wings, or eyes covering your body. Maybe all three! One day, you meet a foal from another family and they make no secret of finding you spooky and strange. Does this offend you? Delight you? What do you do? (Feel free to include the other foal in your response)
Prompt 2:
Quote: You are an unripened banana, the last in your shipment to still be green. Describe your feelings on the matter. |
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Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 7:42 am
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Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 4:44 pm
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Username: Pink Pandah Bear
Foal's name: Aurelian
Foal's temper: Possessive
Which prompt? Quote: Even as a foal, you're aware that you're very different from most soquili. Maybe you have paws, or six wings, or eyes covering your body. Maybe all three! One day, you meet a foal from another family and they make no secret of finding you spooky and strange. Does this offend you? Delight you? What do you do? (Feel free to include the other foal in your response)
Prompt response: Aurelian grins, not surprised by the comments about his features. He knew he was different, just look at his parents, but he was proud. He didn't want to be "normal", but what even defines normal these days? He has seen many other foals but not many of them were similar to him, apart from his siblings. This made him feel quite proud that he was a part of something special.
He puffs out his chest, smirking at the unexciting foal. "I am happy to look the way I am. I can do this." He springs in the air toward the foal, and growls jokingly. He only wants to play, for now. "Did I scare you?" Aurelian grins. His love for his family is undeniable, even if it did mean sticking up with the comments. He loved his siblings more than ever, they understood what it meant to deal with negativity, he knew he wasn't alone.
Aurelian wondered what would happen once he grew up. Would he have to put up with these comments all his life? It didn't bother him much, since he knew he was tough. He knew he would grow up stronger than everyone else, and that alone excited him.
Comments/Other: I loved these Soq even before the mixer, so having the opportunity to enter a contest for their offspring is so exciting to me, thank you! I am not a great role player, I know that, but I am willing to try! <3
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Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 4:47 pm
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Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 5:12 pm
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Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 5:35 pm
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Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 5:37 pm
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Username: Novablu
Foal's name: Belial
Foal's temper: Esoteric
Which prompt? 1
Prompt response:
The shadows called to him, whispered his name in murky voices, a siren's call that Belial couldn't resist. Could never resist. He blended with them, sliding through the grounds on whispery paws though the smirk on his lips--a smirk despite the fact that Mother would whomp on him when he returned home--told the shadows everything they needed to know. He would play with them tonight as they danced around him.
And tonight they coaxed him out into a field, his body stretching and flexing as he ran, wind ripping through his mane. The feeling of freedom, freedom from Mother's disapproving stares, as if perpetually judging he and his siblings, ranking them against each other like they were slabs of meat and she was choosing the best cut.
Not that he blamed her; he'd choose the best cut, too--but he didn't like having to prove he WAS the best cut. Not when he knew it, down to his very bones. He could be her favorite...if he truly wanted to be. Sloth ran deep in his veins, an almost carelessness when regarding life and death. He had so much to live for, to strive for, and yet...
Bah. Tonight was his night, Belial decided as he came upon a couple of grazing mares and, to the left, a filly wandering off from the herd. His lips tipped in a deadly smile as he slunk closer to her, the whiff of cerynei blood catching his nose as his nostrils flared and there was something the way the filly walked that triggered that preydrive. A low growl trickled from him and the other foal froze dead and the smell of fear, thick and heady, was delicious. Belial's blood sang.
Yet he played innocent. His head popped up, wolven tail lowered, he flared two stubby wings and strutted closer with a cheerful, charming smile on his face. "Hey there."
And she just...stood there, stupid like a little lost lamb. Staring at him, her mouth agape. Like she'd never seen a mutant before and that excited something deep within him. His grin remained, voice jovial. "What'sa matter, dollface? You look like you've seen the big, bad wolf."
The filly stared at him, whites of her eyes obvious. Afraid of him. "Y-You... What are you?" she breathed in awe, nose wrinkled. So innocent where he was so--not. Belial laughed and a few more eyes slid open, scattered along his body, their vision darkened by shadows but still creepy nonetheless and the filly began to tremble.
"Your worst nightmare," he replied, nonchalant. Then the charm and guile was gone, replaced by a feral, fanged grin as he snapped his jaws mere centimeters away from the filly's flank. She shrieked and bolted, little hooves pounding across the earth and he took after her, faster and way more agile than a little cery. She looked over her shoulder, fear and panic in baby blue eyes as she stumbled over a rock and careened to the ground. Her legs scrambled for purchase out of sheer terror.
Belial loomed over her, wings flaring, tail arched high. Oh, the options. He could've ripped her apart, shred by shred while her herd listened to plaintive, worrying screams drowned in blood. He had that power, had that energy, and yet... "Remember my face, little deer... You owe me," he whispered, mocking her fear, his entire body buzzing from the thrill of the chase. She ran off and he stood still, paws warm and flexing into the earth as the shadows laughed and danced around him, their praise burning his ears and pumping his ego, but it wasn't enough. He wanted Mother's praise, however sharp-tongued it may be.
And he would get it, if it was the last thing he did.
Comments/Other: Thank youuuu for the opportunity. I have loooved both these lines for forever and am happy for the chance to try and get in on the love (and hate!) of this twisted little line razz And apologies for the length. I got carried away razz
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Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 5:51 pm
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Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 5:56 pm
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Username:
xxxxx techabyte
Foal's name:
xxxxx Zopyros – The Greek name meaning “glowing”.
xxxxx I chose this name due to the glowing nature of the gem on the basket.
Foal's temper:
xxxxx Cutthroat
Which prompt?
xxxxx Mostly one, with some hints for two.
xxxxx For the sake of the prompt, I’m going to say that he has the paws, and wings, as well as is all wispy.
Prompt response:
xxxxx Mother had been cross. He could tell by the way she growled and lashed at him. Well, Zopyros wasn’t some silly colt with happy wishes. He knew that if he stayed for much longer around his pawed mother, he would get some scars of his own. So, he fled from her, leaving his siblings back to deal with the mare on their own. Father had been no help either, being gone for… well… He counted a few moons passed since the last time he had seen the stallion, and that was nothing new to him.
xxxxx Growling low in his throat, the small wings folded tight against his back and sides. Well. Who cared what they thought! He may be the runt of the three, smaller and thinner. Perhaps it was due to the fact that he missed out on meals more often than not; but, Zopyros was certain that when the time came, when he was able to bulk out, he would be the toughest of all the children his mother had.
xxxxx “Woah…”
xxxxx Zopyros jumped at the sound of another’s voice. He turned quickly on his hooves, his glowing red eyes locked on the other foal not too far from him. The filly blinked at him, tilting her head one way, than the other. She had short hair, and was white in color, with dark mane and tail. Nothing abnormal about her; just a normal Soquili. Scoffing lightly, Zopyros shifted on his paws, a low snarl on his throat. She was taller than him, and it was frustrating as all get out.
xxxxx “You’re uh… You look… What’s wrong with you? Are you disappearing or something? And what is with those wings… Are you sick?” The filly asked, her voice showing the somewhat disgusted look at his appearance.
xxxxx Zopyros glared angrily. Well, that was just downright rude! His tail lashed behind him, before he grit his teeth, his muscles tensing. Is this how he was to be treated growing up? Is this how he was to be treated for his appearance? Like some monster? Or perhaps with pity at being different? He was not weak. He was not some broken colt who needed saving or some creature who was going to eventually die out. He was strong! He was a fighter and a survivalist. He wasn’t going to ever let anyone treat him like less than he deserved!
xxxxx And he deserved all the respect in the world.
xxxxx Zopyros realized it then, that no matter what, he was going to do all he could to fight. To survive and be the best son that his mother could have asked for. His fangs bared slightly, he puffed himself up. The filly seemed to see the change in him, and backed up slightly. Glaring with rage, Zopyros took a step forward on large paws, his claws scraping the ground. He lowered his head in a predatory growls, his tail giving a slow flick behind him. Forget this. He wasn’t going to stand for being mocked.
xxxxx “You think that I’m a monster? That something is wrong with me? Well, let me just show you how wrong you are.” He snapped.
xxxxx Zopyros charged the other foal, attacking as best as he could in his small stature. As he attacked, the parents of the foals showed up, and ran the small colt off. He growled and snapped at them, before going home to his siblings and mother. He didn’t talk much that night, just laid in the “puppy pile” to sleep along side those that he was related to. He eventually found out just what he was going to become, when he became a big horse.
xxxxx He wasn’t going to let anyone push him around. Not a stallion, or a mare, or his mother, or even the gods. Zepyros was going to be strong. And anyone who dared try to stop him from being who he was going to be… well… they would be met with sharp fangs and piercing claws. With anger and rage, and no matter what, he would take them down.
xxxxx -------------------
xxxxx As the years passed, he developed into a strong stallion, with razor sharp fangs and an anger that could match even the strongest of demons. He had killed many people who stood in his way, destroying whomever got close enough to him. Often times he was compared to his mother, dark and dangerous. Flicking his tail over his most recent target, he glared down at the creature, his paws flexing lightly in the grass, blood dripping from his muzzle.
xxxxx Well.. At least he wasn’t an unripe banana any more.
Comments/Other:
xxxxx The plan is for him to be a very small colt at first, and then grow into a rather strong, fierce stallion as he matures. He will take no stuff. Even if he does not have the predatory look about him, and takes after dad more, he will still be as murderous as depicted. Just means he won’t be eating those he kills.
xxxxx And of course thank you for the contest! And good luck to everyone. :3
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Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 6:39 pm
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Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 6:42 pm
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Username: dawns_aura
Foal's name: Hecatoncheires, called Chieres
Foal's temper: insidious
Personality: Proud and strong, he is very self-aware and proud of who and what he is. He prefers to show his superiority through cunning and guile and careful planning than through mere brute physical strength. Though he is far from weak.
He has a bit of a temper, but enough control to plot out fitting – if more than a little elaborate- revenge.
His one major, exploitable, weakness is his need to prove himself worthy in the eyes of his mother and father.
Which prompt? the first- Even as a foal, you're aware that you're very different from most soquili. Maybe you have paws, or six wings, or eyes covering your body. Maybe all three! One day, you meet a foal from another family and they make no secret of finding you spooky and strange. Does this offend you? Delight you? What do you do? (Feel free to include the other foal in your response)
Prompt response: From the beginning, they were different. Chieres and his sisters knew this. It was never hidden from them, which would imply a sense of shame... on the contrary it was a mark of pride. They were different, special, better than those around them. They were unique. And it never mattered to him. He was who he was. And he was much like the parents he so admired. And that was all that mattered. He didn't need the approval and approbation of those who were so wholly unconnected to him.
It had even become something of a game he played with his siblings, trying to guess what reactions their appearances would garner from anyone they met. He had gotten quite good at guessing whether it would be the sneer of disgust, the eyes of pity, the look of horror or disgust. He had seen them all. And all the physiological tells that accompanied them. It was always fun and amusing to see. Even more so when they were horrified or disgusted, but attempted to hide it.
But this, this was the first time someone had approached him first, without fear or pity, disgust or horror. And he wasn't quite sure how to respond...
'Oh my gosh, are those paws? Three wings, that must make flying so easy and fun? Cool, are you made of shadows? Can you pass through things?'
Tossing his head, Chieres slowly backed away from the other foal. Why weren't they terrified by him? Were they completely dense or insane?
Comments/Other:Firstly, this is such an awesome and amazing couple with such rich history and story, thanks for the opportunity to become a part of the families.
And secondly: You are an unripened banana, the last in your shipment to still be green. Describe your feelings on the matter.
And because it is just too fun a prompt to not respond to....
It's not that easy being green
Having to spend each day the color of the leaves
When I think it could be nicer being red, or yellow, or gold
Or something much more colorful like that
It's not easy being green
It seems you blend in with so many other ordinary things
And people tend to pass you over
'Cause you're not standing out
Like flashy sparkles in the water
Or stars in the sky
But green's the color of spring
And green can be cool and friendly-like
And green can be big like a mountain
Or important like a river
Or tall like a tree
I am green and that's not bad
I'm not brightly colored like a rainbow, nor the stars in the sky
nor jewels of the earth, and that's good.
I am me and that is all I'll ever need to be. It's all I need to be.
Forever youthful, unique amidst my own. I am...
Da fuq? I'm turning yellow. The travesty. The humanity. The …
Dammnit all. |
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Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 7:29 pm
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Username: Akuma_Kessaku
Foal's name: Bavius
Foal's temper: Collusive
Which prompt? Prompt 2: 8D Bananas! You are an unripened banana, the last in your shipment to still be green. Describe your feelings on the matter.
Prompt response:
Ohran- Irish- Little Pale Green One
‘There is an eerie silence about this case…’ Ohran thought . Plucked early from his treetop home, Ohran was one finger; his own hand. He knew he wasn’t alone, though he was quarantined by a thick, semi-movable, horrendously smelling barrier; he could hear the chatter of the other hands. They spoke of an oasis; a haven for all types of his kind. For the longest time he had longed for the companionship of the others, finding comfort in the fantasies about their destination, but something strange had been happening in their time of travel. One by one the hands chatter had lessened until only the muffled drone of the metal contraption their cardboard metropolis was being transported in.
Knowing their journeys were far from over, Ohran slumped against the musky wall of his enclosure and drifted for what seemed like moments, but soon found himself jolted awake by the screech of the metal mover and his home slamming against the walls of its belly. ‘ We’ve stopped?’ he thought as he found himself thrust against the slick barrier of isolation. The continuous drone didn’t cease, in fact the humdrum of the traveling contraption grew into an incoherent rumble of discontent; it wasn’t the metal mover.
A small ray of light pierced the semi opaque barrier, “We’ve arrived!” Ohran cried out to the others, “We’ve made it to the Oasis!” He felt the crate lurch forward; a floating sensation filled his enclosure. As the light hit the top of the case, a deafening roar overwhelmed him, and he saw the most horrifying sight; yellowed hands clawing and tearing at the barrier.
‘Ethylene gas…’ Ohran concluded, He thought it a myth; an intoxicating gas that… changes you. Most fingers introduced to the gas disappear before you learn what the gas does to them. Ohran backed away from the barrier and stared on in disbelief, ‘They’re all… Gone. What oasis would we have if everyone is mindless yellow fingers?!’ it was then he came to a startling realization. The only thing separating him from them is the barrier, and when they arrive where they’re going, the enclosure will break; the barrier dropped and nothing will be keeping the ethylene gas from claiming him next.
His prison fell, thrusting him against the barrier, and the grappling hands of his diseased brethren. ‘I’m done… this is it.’Ohran reflected on his brief existence, longing to be perched in his treetop abode. The roof ripped from the walls and the barrier was ripped away. Soon he was consumed by the rubbery yellow claws. Knowing there was no hope for his kind; Ohran succumbed to the sweet, musky odor thus beginning his slow decay into yellowdom.
Comments/Other:
8'D Best.Prompt.Ever!~
I had so much fun with this event. Thanks for having it.
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