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 Posted: Tue Nov 01, 2011 8:30 pm
I'm ready for my Closeup, Mr Demille twisted Name of Soquili: Falyn Temper: Lost Entry  Was it inspired by a story? The Robber Bridegroom, Little Red Riding Hood and an eensy bit of Hansel and Gretel Rough Description of Story: Falyn's family was in a financial crisis, and she their only child, her mother thought, could fix their problems. She arranged for her daughter to marry a wealthy soquili whom Falyn had yet to meet. So greedy was her mother that she ignored her daughter urging against the stallion, thinking it only of a way to get out of the engagement. But, her father too had a sneaking suspition that there was something off about her fiance. The fiance had visited their small home several times but Falyn had yet to visit his home and was reluctant to when he invited her. While Falyn had paused to develop a reasonable excuse her mother cut in and eagerly accepted. Early the morning she was set to leave her father handed her a basket of treats and snuck her out the back, so that hopefully she could escape to the next town where there family could meet up and escape the presence of the stallion. No such wish came true. Falyn was a young mare and hadn't often roamed alone and never so far from home and she soon became lost when she stumbled upon a seemingly safe forest. Mistake number one, no suspicious forest is safe. In order to find her way back she began to drop the treats onto the forest floor. Soon she came across a path of ashes, leading in from another location that ws unknown. She naively thought that perhaps the ashes would lead her away. Continuing to drops her snacks, the basker continued to get lighter as she followed the trail of ash. The path ended abruptly by an old house and by this point the mare had dropped her last cookie and entered the dirty house. What greeted Falyn was not what she expected, the interior matched the exterior, dingy and a crow called out to her "Go back! Turn back! Go back!" The poor mare ignored the bird's warnings (mistake #2) as foolishness and began searching through the house. Oh twas folly, twas folly. The mare turned to a door leading down and nearly bumped into an old hag startled she backed up and fumbled around as the elderly mare bagan to speak. "Better run deary, better hide, for though I am old and weary, Im the only one that can save you from being fried..." the mare cakled and led the terrified mare into the back yard. "No stay here my sweet if you wish to see morn, there is your mate, from a hated enemy was he born, a line of great hate." Falyn flinched as the mare released her from her grasp and scurred back into the house. The woman seemed delirious as there was no one in sight but surely as soon as Falyn stepped out from behind the tree she heard voices, three stallions had just entered the cottage, and through the dirt and grime on a back window she could see her wealthy fiance was amoong them. Upon one of the stallions back was flesh and Falyn gagged as she saw that it was the carcass of a dead mare. These monster! These fiends! It took all of Falyn's focus to hold down her breakfast. She know understood the hag's warning, surely one among his line was a skinwalker or kalona. She had never noticed before but his tail was demonic like Kalona'sm he had hiddden it so well. The body was dragged into the yard when the robbers noticed a band upon the deceased mare's ankle. The golden jewlery would not budge and one took a hatchet to it. Both ankle and bracelet flew and landed into the mares basket whose lid had never been shut. Falyn's knees trembled, a robber had begun to search around and soon he would be at the tree. The hag called called to them though, bidding them to search later as the sun was setting and it was time for supper. Not a half hour later did the old mare race out as fast as a young filly and shuffled the frozen mare out from behind the tree. She had drugged their drinks and it was time for their escape. All of the ash that had led the way was blown away but the cookies remained. For once Falyn was grateful that her father couldn't cook to save his life, because it saved hers. They were so rock solid that none of the forest animals had even attempted to eat them. The pair wove their free of the forests clutches. On the day of the wedding, before the ceremony had begun the souili feated, Falyn's fiance unaware of her knowledge. She had already told her father and at the table she related the sotry of her ordeal, showing the bracelet that she now wears as proof. Before her fiance could the villagers, took care of him and he would never bother another mare. Comments: the skirt wasn't meant to be a little mrs. claus like xD i just realized that it kind of is but it is more supposed to be like (for lack of a better pitcure) this; can be bloodied up a bit if you want I'm ready for my Closeup, Mr Demille twisted Name of Soquili: Jasper Temper: Craving Entry Was it inspired by a story? Jack and the Beanstalk Rough Description of Story: JAspers family was poor so he traded his cow in for beans. They were magical beans and soon sprouted vines to the heavens. Jasper hiked to the top and found vast riches in a monster's home. He snuck in and out and dicovered the best passages, he went undiscovered for a great length of time but soon the owner found out or so Jasper thought. It turns out that the monster had been slayed by a daring knight from whom Jasper was noe stealing. Jasper begged for forgiveness and the knight forgave him. In fact, the knight was rather old and felll in love with Jasper's mother and the two were soon wed. As the step son of the knight he was given all that he wanted including a magical harp, a golden goose, and sacs of gold. He even was able to buy back Milkyway his cow. Jack and his mother began on the road to a happy life with the lovely knight. Comments: no the mane doesn't need to be blue xD but it certainly can be I was having some hair issues on this guy, feel free to mess around with it and change its color <3can be bloodied up a bit if you want
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Posted: Tue Nov 01, 2011 8:37 pm
I'm ready for my Closeup, Mr Demille twisted Name of Soquili: Sir Bertilak Temper: Guilt-Ridden Entry Was it inspired by a story? Yes - inspired by the story Sir Gawain and The Green Knight, with influences from the Girl with the Green Ribbon, twisted to make it darker and more tragic >3 Rough Description of Story: Once upon a time there was a strong and handsome knight by the name of Sir Bertilak. He was peerless in battle, and stalwart of heart. He fought with a shining axe that legend had could slice through anything that met its blade. And all of his deeds he did in the name of his lady love, a shining silvery mare whom he loved with all of his heart. An evil sorceress had heard of the many deeds of this stallion, and set about to weave her evil magic to corrupt this good-hearted knight. She appeared before him as a sweet maiden, and offered to him a magical shawl. She said that she had heard of his deeds, and worried so much for him. She offered him her shawl, to keep him warm and safe, and protect him while he was on his travels. Bertilak was used to receiving favors and gifts from others, and courteously accepted her gift. However, as soon as it wrapped around his neck, Bertilak changed. Bertilak became ruthless, goading, and bloodthirsty. However, there was a truth to the sorceress's words. The shawl protected him from harm. And thus, it made him all the more dangerous. He called out a challenge to any knights who might meet him - he offered an exchange of a single blow - and he would let them strike first, and give them till the following night before he took his strike. He preyed on their honor, knowing that were they to run, they would be dishonored. Many took him up on this offer, hoping to rid the country of this menace ... and yet none ever survived to tell the tale. And yet, all during this, his lady stayed by his side. She was distraught to see what had become of him, and yet her love for him kept her there, hoping that one day she could help rid him of his curse. One day, a brave knight from Bertilak's own realm took him up on his offer. Bertilak offered him his axe, and knelt before him with an evil gleam in his eye, allowing the knight to strike him. And strike he did - he dealt a wicked blow through his neck... and yet, it did no harm. Bertilak stood straight, and challenged for him to meet him there the following night so that HE might return the blow. The young knight fretted; he could not survive such a blow, and he knew his death awaited him on the morrow. And so, surrepticiously, he followed Bertilak, and saw the lovely mare that waited for him. And he waited, biding his time. After she had attended to him, bringing him his dinner, and Bertilak fell asleep, the young knight approached the mare, begging that she tell him how he lived through the blow. Mournful, she told him the story - and of the shawl that wrapped around his neck, protecting him. And yet, even though it seemed a simple shawl, it could not be removed. Her tears ran anew, knowing that he would only kill more, knowing that none could save him. * * * The next night, Bertilak appeared in the clearing once more, and saw the knight waiting for him. He was decked from head to tail to hoof in shining armor barding, and Bertilak scoffed. He knew that his wicked axe could cut clean through the armor that the foolish knight through would protect him. And so, when the knight knelt before Bertilak, he did not hesitate before he sliced through the armor around the neck, seeing he head fall from the shoulders. However, the wicked gleam died in his eyes when the helm fell from the head to reveal that it was none other than his lady love. She had sacrificed herself, unwilling to see Bertilak kill another noble knight like he had once been, and live with the monster that he had become. And yet, as he saw her face, the shawl slipped from his shoulders and he realized fully what he had done. Desperately, he wrapped the shawl around her neck, trying to fix the damage that he had done, sacrificing the magic properties it had given him in desperate hope that it would save her life. Comments: I picture the soquili to kind of have this old broken knight feel - the metal tarnished, his mane partly in braids, and partly just curly and stained moldy green at the edges. Once handsome and dashing, but now fallen, with an eerie, almost otherworldly or ghostly feel. smile If changing the breed (by adding a unicorn horn) isn't cool, then feel free to ignore it. It mentioned small mutations were OK, backwings weren't - so I hope the horn's all right. I visualize it going with the knightly/noble background - but it's not a requirement by any means smile
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Posted: Tue Nov 01, 2011 8:39 pm
I'm ready for my Closeup, Mr Demille twisted Name of Soquili: Ciska
Temper: Demure
Entry
* Linked to the lines only version, without the silk on her back.
* I did not alter her expression, however I would prefer a neutral or steely look to her face.
* There should also be blood in her hair, but each time I tried, it failed miserably.. So yes. 8D Bloodiness is a good thing.
Was it inspired by a story? Not that I know of. Any similarities or insistances that bear familiarity to another fairytale were purely coincidental. I had intended for this to be an original story 83.
Rough Description of Story:
She, who cut the rope..
Dear Child, thou so fine, demure. Thy hair of marigold, thy eyes blue as His threshold. Beloved for beauty alone, thy heart of stone and cold, thy air of dark so bold. Make way thou witnesses, a tale of endless mystery, a tale of she, who cut the rope.
Long ago, a tale lost to the erosion of time, a child of beauty and Heaven's grace, borne to the world in which her fate was sealed with her marigold hair. Eyes blue as the skies, the silent one sat in a field of red, crimson poppies staining the countryside in which she grew up fair. Always as she ventured with her mother to the village, would everyone stare.
"Such fine hair she has, if only mine were so like hers."
"Such sweet eyes she has, if only we could have the same."
The child was still, silent and obedient, her mother bringing her along as her footsteps danced on dirtpaths and the people stared in the awe of her light. They spoke her name, the silent Ciska. Roads wind long and steady through the countries; people wind around stories and legends passed through voice.
Not long was it, till a prince caught the tale, of a maiden whose hair could shame his gold crown and whose eyes would dim his sapphires. Captive by beauty, his heart found joy on sight of the true allurement of her blessed face. He took her from her village, hoisted her delicate frame to his steed, and carried the daughter to his castle, for there was none else who deserved to be his bride, but the most beautiful.
A wedding there was, grand and royal as was expected of nobility; doves of white and roses of red danced in the summer breeze the day young Ciska became princess. Sweetness became her name, delicacy her voice so rare. A press of fair lips in a snowy dress sealed not two lives, but two fates.
Time passed witrh happiness in the kingdom. Rejoicement came as the people worked and relished in the beauty that was their fair princess. Her name resonated only with well thoughts and voices.
At least in public.
For who could not envy the boldness of her marigold hair, or the sweet shimmer of those eyes blue as the clearest lakes? Egoistic and arrogant, the prince's heart grew bitter of his beautiful wife who could not be outshined, even by his face which casted white glow to his people. While he spoke, all would pay him no heed as their eyes turned only toward Ciska's shimmer. The more she grew in beauty each day, the more darkness she brought to his heart.
Any excuse was made to summon wrath on her. Afterall, what holy being could be blessed as she was, beautiful and beloved despite her silence and reclusive mannerisms? Where greedy love formerly reigned, stinging torment was only present within the darkened eyes of the prince. Envy could take many far.
I did nothing.
Dear princess, clad in thy dress of white, eyes that capture, blank within the cold of bitter winter's reign. Thou deny the lechery accused atop thy bosom, and now in thyself remains but sour reputation. Betrayed was thee, so fine of which one could not stand to let thee live. Be brave dear princess, witnesses, bid our fair maid adieu! The last we shall see, of sweet Ciska, dear me. Child yonder, praise the lord, she hangs!
And so it seems, our story ends, a bitter tale tragic to hear. Sweet princess, a corpse, hung above white blankets so cold, flesh cold, blood still, heart dead. The night passes, a moon so ominous it seems. Morning calls, the people awaken, and stare.
Princess dead, was missing, her body nowhere.
Blood pooled beneath the cut rope, a stain upon innocence like that of a slain swan. A single poppy, red as those roses years former, on a glorious summer day, laid delicately in the stain.
Years passed, and the mystery is forgotten. Young Ciska who disappeared, dead as death could bring, yet gone as if her corpse had cut the rope she was killed on. Her legacy disappeared as her corpse did; the prince remarried, had lovely children, became king. Rich was the land who easily pushed past the dark memories of winter's grief.
Yet slain one day, was the eldest child of the prince. Unknown to his killer, the king scoured the land, hanged each suspect he could bring, claiming justice on his bloody, murderous fingers. Another child was taken but half year's time later, and soon each fell, each the same way -- by slash across the neck.
Without heirs, the royal family perished. The king was thrown into the same people he opressed and shunned, deeming them unworthy of his handsomeness. The king wandered aimlessly, struggling in his new life, despairing from the evil curse his family fell to, becoming but a mere beggar in the wake of reality.
One dark night, the beggar walked alone, grieving for his previous life. He remembered Ciska, her imprisonment, his betrayal, and then her death. Thoughts of his envy blinded him to the bloodstains that had appeared beneath his feet. Only when his toes fell over a frayed rope did he look up, a figure in the distance, hair as dark as the moon, eyes red as Hell fire. A loose noose hung around a bloodied, bruised neck, and splashes of red dotted fair skin that blended with the midnight. Ankle bleeding from a chain, blood seeping from the tear ducts of blank eyes. A small engraving in permanent red seal laid on her shoulder, almost hidden beneath torn, cream silk. The abstract outlines.. of a poppy, and death.
A sense of dread filled the air, cold and dark. A shimmer of cold steel tainted with crimson hate..
The morning came soon, snow stained red in the deep recesses of winter's dawn. There lay dead, the beggar neck slashed open. A long, frayed rope bound him, and a simple golden tiara laid beside him. Ominously shining in the haze of a cloud covered morn..
Till death do us part.
Once upon a time, there was a child who bore the curse of beauty. Loved by all who saw her, yet hated all the same for the very reason she was adored.. Time wilted away marigolds and skies change each day, but a revenge of death can never be taken away. The vengeful live only to reserve themselves to madness, the twisted to but tales of tragedy and sorrow untold. Misunderstanding ears hear, and tales pass over time, left to rot away to the past.
Yet sometimes there is, stories that remain. A tale of a prince who killed his bride, a tale of poppies and crimson. Untold till now, a lost tale revived, the story of young Ciska. She, who cut the rope.
Comments: This story's setting is around the medieval era, where acts such as hangings and royal families were far from uncommon. There is usage of Old English in the story because I felt it would help make the story a little more interesting and compelling. The actual accuracy of the Old English is limited to what I've heard from reading and analyzing Shakespeare. I hope writing the full story was okay o uo;; I got carried away. Thank you~
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Posted: Tue Nov 01, 2011 9:38 pm
I'm ready for my Closeup, Mr Demille twisted Name of Soquili: Rose Red Temper: Fierce Entry  Was it inspired by a story? Yes, Snow-White and Rose-Red Rough Description of Story: A long time ago a poor widow lived in and old cottage in the woods. But she was not alone in her life, she lived with her daughters Snow White and Rose Red, two of the most devoted and caring girls you could ever hope to meet. Where Snow White was sweet and quiet, Rose Red was wild, vivacious, and fierce. While they did not have much, the girls did what they could to help their mother around the house and they always made sure they had a nice big fire to stave of the cold of the frigid nights. On one such night a loud knock sounded at the door. “Who could that be at this hour?” the mother wondered. “Snow White, please go open the door and see who visits us so late in the day.” The girl did as she was asked and let out a shriek as a large hairy muzzle pushed its way through the door. “Do not fear, child,” said a deep gruff voice. “It is only a half frozen bear seeking shelter from the bitter cold. Please let me in near your fire so warm and I’ll promise not to harm a soul in this hut.” While Snow White clung tight to her sister, their mother rose and said to the beast, “You poor thing, come in! Just look at you coated with ice and covered in snow. You must rest by the fire, here on the hearth rug. Come my dear children, don’t be afraid. He had promised he will not harm us. Now come, help brush the snow from his fur.” The sisters did as their mother said and used brooms to brush the cold dust from the bear’s back as he curled up close to the fire. Growing comfortable with their giant guest, the girls began to tease and play with the bear – poking him and pulling at his fur which he all took with great patience, until they pulled too hard and he scolded him away. When the girls went to bed their mother told the bear he could remain by the hearth through the night, an offer which he gratefully accepted. In the morning the great creature left, but returned as the sun descended in the sky and once again, the mother allowed him into their home. This became their habit where the family would wait to greet their friend before settling in for the evening and the girls would play with the bear every night. All through the winter the continued like this until the first days of spring thaw arrived. “I must go,” said the bear. “The summer is here and I cannot remain in this little hut with you.” The girls cried to see their friend go and as he was walking away Snow White ran to him and clung to him, accidently pulling loose a piece of his hairy coat. In the new summer light Snow White and Rose Red both saw the glimmer of gold in that place where the fur had been. In a silent exchange the girls quickly made a decision and knew what they must do. They descended up on the beast and ripped him to shreds. Under his fur they found his body was made of the purest of gold and brilliant rubies flowed as blood through his veins. They made beautiful jewelry of the bear’s gold claws and teeth, mixing them with the crimson rubies. Rose Red then took what remained of the bear’s coat and fashioned for herself a cloak, the inside trimmed with the softest gold cloth the world had ever known. With the rest of the gold the devoted daughters moved their mother out of the little old cottage and into a fashionable house in town and there they lived happily ever after. Comments: Here we have the lovely Rose Red in her rustic enchanted bear cloak. Note the delicate gold claws draped over her shoulders almost in an eternal embrace. For accessories, she keeps in the same theme with a bear claw bracelet and earring, both gently accented with rare blood rubies. In her flowing scarlet hair she wears a dark mourning rose trimmed with ebony ribbons while at her feet we see blood red roses, a tribute to both her name and her talents. (Thanks for this opportunity to take a favorite fairy tale and twist it! A few quick statements for clarification - This is not a cosplay [her attire alone makes her an entity far different from the original Rose-Red of Grimm's lore] and second this is not a skinwalker - no corpse powder here, just a nice twisted mare ^^)
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Posted: Tue Nov 01, 2011 10:17 pm
I'm ready for my Closeup, Mr Demille twisted Name of Soquili: Mirror Mare Temper: Vengeful Entry Was it inspired by a story? Yes - Roughly based on the "Bloody Mary" urban legend Rough Description of Story: The mare's children were lost in a tragic accident, but the ignorant Soquili of that older time accused her of causing the accident using dark magics. She was stricken with grief at her loss, but the other Soquili persisted in trying to get a confession out of her. They tortured her and cut her and made her bled, but she had loved her children and wouldn't take credit for their passing. She couldn't take the torture for very long, so she took her own life by breaking a mirror and cutting her neck on the shards. Now, if you stand in front of a mirror and call her forth, "Mirror Mare," three times, she will appear in the mirror behind you and haunt you for the rest of your life, forever inhabiting your reflection. But if you continue to taunt her, to accuse you of the crime she didn't commit, she will pass through the mirror and take your life in the gruesome way she took her own. Comments: Mirror Mare, Mirror Mare, Mirror M...
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Posted: Tue Nov 01, 2011 11:09 pm
I'm ready for my Closeup, Mr Demille twisted Name of Soquili: Belle (keeping the name as it's french and means beauty) Temper: Lonely Entry Was it inspired by a story? Beauty and the Beast (watching the Disney movie as of this post). Except, what were to happen if there was no happy ending? The rose lost all it's petals and the Beast remained a cruel monster forever. Rough Description of Story: Once upon a time there was a prince in a faraway land. He was extremely spoiled, demanding and got everything he wanted. A beggar woman appeared before him one night and in exchange for a single rose, she was to be given shelter from the weather for the night. The prince refused and sneered at the woman, based solely on her appearance alone. She transformed into a beautiful woman, sparking the prince to beg forgiveness and try to take what he said back. Instead the woman placed a curse upon him, turning him into a foul, hate-ridden beast and cursed the rose. If he had no learned to love by the time the last petal fell, he would remain a beast for eternity. Years down the road, another young woman appeared at the castle's doorsteps. She gotten lost and was far from home. Thinking the castle was abandoned, she stepped inside and began to wander. There, she found the rose with only a few petals left upon it. The girl raised the glass curiously, reaching out to touch the rose and instead pricking her own finger as a loud roar echoed through the room from behind her. "What are you doing in here!?" The Beast demanded. "I'm sorry, I was lost and I didn't think anyone lived here..." she mumbled, nursing the p***k to her finger, unaware of the rose's curse slowly invading and poisoning her body. The Beast took the girl hostage, locking her forever within the castle. The girl, in an effort to free herself from his captivity, began to try and break through that cold, outer shell. The Beast shunned all her efforts, knocking her away, bruising and battering her. She remained locked up within the castle's confines, never allowed to leave. The Beast refused to believe the girl truly wanted to help and love him. He assumed it was nothing more than the cruel witch, who placed the curse upon him, come back to further torment and try to make him believe something he could never trust. As the last petal fell, both were trapped within the castle. The Beast remained a heartless animal for the rest of his life. The girl, cursed with a dark and forbidding beauty, as a haunting reminder to him, forever walked the castle's hallways. Her clothes torn, her heart broken, her body battered and bruised... Comments: She has long dark brown hair (much inspired by Belle in the movie), that has become somewhat dirty from years of being held captive and a single rose tangled up in it. Around her neck/shoulders is a sheer gold cloth with a longer, dress-like gold fabric draped over her hind-quarters. The longer cloth is filthy and torn up, the bottom dragging the ground and dirt. Around her feet is the rose, wooden stand, shattered glass dome and fallen petals.
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Posted: Wed Nov 02, 2011 12:04 am
I'm ready for my Closeup, Mr Demille twisted Name of Soquili: Requiem Temper: At Peace Entry Without CloakName of Soquili: Rhosyn ("rose" in Welsh) Temper: Haunted Entry Hood DownWas it inspired by a story? These two were based on The Rose (included below) and Requiem is a little bit based on Godfather Death with the bag of herbs he took back from his godson before extinguishing his life. There was once a poor woman who had two children. The youngest
had to go every day into the forest to fetch wood. Once when
she had gone a long way to seek it, a little child, who
was quite strong, came and helped her industriously to pick up
the wood and carry it home, and then before a moment had passed
the strange child disappeared.
The child told her mother this, but at first she would not believe it. At
length she brought a rose home, and told her mother that the beautiful
child had given her this rose, and had told her that when it was in full
bloom, he would return.
The mother put the rose in water. One morning her child could not get
out of bed. The mother went to the bed and found her dead, but she lay
looking very happy. On the same morning, the rose was in full bloom.
Rough Description of Story: Rhosyn had returned with her bundle of kindling, a single red rose tucked within. "Mother, I have wonderful news!" When her mother had joined her, the young mare told of the handsome stallion that had helped her gather her kindling and how he had given her the rose with the promise to return. "He wants to take me to be with him. He said he would come when the rose blooms." "He was likely just being kind, dear daughter," the older mare told her, worried about the sort of stallion that might approach young mares in the forest. "I do not think he will be coming for you. Give me the rose, though, and I will put it in water for you so that you can admire it awhile before it fades." Sadly, the young mare let her mother have the rose and went to her room to sulk. The stallion had been so sincere in his promise to make her his mate and take her away. She wanted to chide herself for her foolishness, but she was young and given to the easy sway of infatuation. No matter what her mother said, she believed the stallion would come. Days passed and still the girl waited. A week went by, and then another. Before a third had passed, however, Rhosyn was awakened late one night by the sound of another in her room. At first she thought it was her mother and called to her softly, only to be answered by a male voice. "I have kept my promise and come back for you. Will you let me take you to a place where you will be beautiful forever and be cherished by me?" the stallion asked. "Oh, yes! Yes, I would like that very much," the mare cried with happiness. "Only, please tell me your name first." The stallion came closer. "My name is Requiem." The next morning, Rhosyn's mother called and called for her. Figuring her daughter was being willful and lazy, the old mare went to where her daughter slept. What she saw was frightening enough the silence the scream in her throat so quick it choked her, it made her heart ache so badly that it broke. She had found her daughter in pieces, blood and hair and innards strewn all about the room. Sitting on a table nearby was the vase the old mare had placed the single red rose and, as she collapsed with grief, she could not help but notice it had finally bloomed. Comments: I'm aware I can only win one or the other, however, I thought it would be interesting to make them intertwined in a way. Props include the bag of herbs for Requiem (from Grandfather Death, and the bundle of kindling and the rose for Rhosyn. Thanks for the fun game. :3
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Posted: Wed Nov 02, 2011 8:35 am
Working On This I'm ready for my Closeup, Mr Demille twisted Name of Soquili: Fright Knight Temper: Ghastly Entry Was it inspired by a story? Nope not that i know of Rough Description of Story: The night appeared only at night
You knew he was coming from the mist in the air
He would thunder into town on hooves of steel
Causing fright and death to deal
There once was a knight friendly and legend
Who saved his people from a terrible war
He grew consumed with darkness and greed
He loved to fight
The taste of victory always there
Soon the night became corrupt
The people called him the fright knight
He was soon terrorizing his own town
Why was he so evil?
He struck a deal
With dark dealers
To gain more power everlasting
It turns out the dealer cursed him
To walk life as a stallion Long ago in the days of old there was a boy who wanted nothing more than to become a knight. He trained long and hard putting all his effort into trying to become one. In the following years when he finally reached knighthood his parents could be no prouder of there son who had trained his entire life. However he quickly grew bored of helping the townspeople what he really loved were the battles. He loved the feeling of victory bringing down another to save his own life. Soon he started to loose himself to the sport and started to savor each victory more and more. He was becoming a shadow of the word knight living for the opposite of what he should of been. He lost himself to the darkness of the world and the townspeople started to call him the fright knight the one who put fear in the hearts of many. He was a corrupt soul even his parents admitted that. They were so proud of him but now they were only ashamed. Why had there son gone off and become a terror to the people he had sworn to defend? They would never know that at that very moment he was off in the forest striking a deal with the dark dealers. They offered him power in exchange for who he once was. Being who he was he accepted the deal loosing all memory of before all for power. He was changed into something not human something he had not expected. The dark magic had turned him into a stallion green with the bones of the dead as markings. He tried to cry out but he was unable as all that came out was a neigh. His mind still human was trapped in the body of a stallion forever. As he looked down upon the ground he saw his armor and sword upon it and decided he would still be a knight even in this new form. Gently he picked up his sword sheath and placed it upon his back. Carrying the bracers in his mouth his cloak tired upon his back the hood pulled over. He kicked his helmet along the dirt road unable to carry it or place it upon his head. He was still the fright knight but now he was living a different life he was seeing through the eyes of a stallion. Comments: I'm ready for my Closeup, Mr Demille twisted Name of Soquili:朱悅 Zhu Yue (Red Moon) Temper: Heartbroken Entry Was it inspired by a story? Mulan inspired but this is not a happy ending.. Rough Description of Story: Everything was ruined..how does a happy ending end up so wrong? There was no describing the pain she felt..Her lover dead killed by war..Her parents house ransacked mother and father dead..Grandma no where to be found..What had happened..? Why?? What had she done to displease the gods in such a way? Why had she awoken a few days earlier to shouts and cries of men only to fun out and find Shang dead the entire army killed? Was it her fault that this befell them? She would seek out revenge and kill those who did this to her. Did she care..? No..Now after the fact she quietly accepted that they would never come back. She changed her name no longer wishing to have a name that meant "Cherry Blossom" he would avenge her family and shang. She became a assiassian a warrior more than she already was. Her hair grew back and longer than ever now touching the ground and flowing freely. She was a living shadow of the girl she had once been consumed by grief and rage. Mushu was still with her though and she knew he would never leave her side. He had become corrupt just as she had. He had grown bigger his teeth and claws longer and sharper than before. The once smiling face now held a grim frown as did the face of Mulan though now she was called Zhu Yue Comments:
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Posted: Wed Nov 02, 2011 8:51 am
I'm ready for my Closeup, Mr Demille twisted Name of Soquili: Lexxie Temper: Driven Entry Was it inspired by a story? Not that I'm aware of... Rough Description of Story: Lexxie is my version of an alien or monster hunter. She was born into a family that has done this job for generations. She is equipped with different tools of the trade and is very skilled for her age. Lexxie comes with her favorite weapon, a small razor sharp scythe on a chain that she is able to throw and hook into her target. This weapon is wrapped several times around her own neck and finally hooked into her own flesh. She also carries several smaller knives, several sets of hobbles, and an assortment of various syringes filled with tranquilizers. Lexxie also is a small part mutated. Part of this mutation in her genes gives her an extraordinarily high pain tolerance, but the second has caused small spikes and a tentacle mane that seems to move to its own accord. (Small spikes should be able to seen under the skin before they finally break through the skin. Reference) Comments: I don't really see Lexxie as being a 'pretty' type soquili. She should look like a hard worker, like she's seen her better days.
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Posted: Wed Nov 02, 2011 12:49 pm
I'm ready for my Closeup, Mr Demille twisted Name of Soquili: Parathenne Temper: Desperate Entry Was it inspired by a story? It's inspired by The Hut in the Forest. Rough Description of Story: One day a wood cutter asked his wife to have their eldest daughter bring him his super in the woods. On her way the girl became lost and eventually came to a hut in the forest. There at the hut was an old man with a snake, a rabbit and a raven. She asked if he would shelter her for the night. The man asked his pets what they thought and they all nodded their heads. So he agreed on the terms so made him supper. Thankful for the shelter the girl agreed to make him supper, so she set up cooking a meal and fed herself and the man. Afterward she asked for a bed, he directed her upstairs in the hut, once asleep he put her in the cellar. The next day the wood cutters middle daughter went out to bring her father his dinner. She too became lost and ended up at the man huts as well, placed in the cellar with her sister. On the third day the youngest daughter was sent into the woods. She too became lost. However when she came across the old man huts she smiled at him and his animals, stopping to pet each one. She asked him for shelter and he and his animals agreed if she would cook him dinner. Glad for the shelter she cook the man dinner, fed grass to the rabbit and gave some meat to the snake and raven. After the meal she asked for a bed to sleep in. The old man led her upstairs to the bedroom. Shortly after she fell asleep the rabbit came up and woke her. The creature warned her to run away before the man came back. The girl hesitated only for a moment but it was enough time to hear the old man coming up the stairs. She tried to escape out the window but it was locked. The old man opened the door and glared at the rabbit who had betrayed him after all these years. Taking a club the man killed the rabbit then turned to the girl. The snake slithered forward, wrapping around her leg and bit deep into the flesh, injecting it's poison. The crow landed on her back. When she turned to see what it was doing the bird began to peck at her eye, blood started to poor down her face before she could turn away. "I have been looking for someone like you for a while. You're sisters would not do so I sent them away to live grand lives in castles. But you showed that you cared for animals and so you will take care of mine." The man laughed. "And don't even think about running away." Later that night the man tied the rabbits blood body to the girls back to constantly remind her of what happens to those who don't do as they are told. Though she wanted to desperately escape form this life the girl stayed worried what would happen not only to her, but her family, should she try to escape. The snake and raven were constantly with her, never leaving her side and ensuring through random bites that she would stay forever theirs. Comments: I'm ready for my Closeup, Mr Demille twisted Name of Soquili: Rahkard Temper: Haunted Entry Full sized Uncloaked versionWas it inspired by a story? It's inspired by a story my grandfather told me many times as a kid. I'm not sure if it's real or made up but it has always stuck with me. Rough Description of Story: On his way home from a day out having fun with friends Rahkard was stuck in a slight dilemma - he was late. Already night was encroaching on the lands, turning everything dark, making it harder and harder to see the way home. Some of his friends suggested that they cut through the cemetery, as it was the quickest was back to the herd. However, they had been warned many times to avoid the cemetery. It was a dangerous place and none should ever cross it. Rahkard tried to explain to his friends that they could just take the long way and still get home in about the same amount of time. They of course thought him scared and poked fun at him until he finally agreed to cross the cemetery with them. The journey started out fine. They all jumped over the fence and began to walk across the cemetery. Headstone jutted out from the landscape making their path zig this way and that. Twisted and gnarled trees, which no longer held their leaves hung over their heads, faintly illuminated by the moon. Rahkard was at the back of the ground, careful not to step on any grave, not wanting to infuriate the spirits that dwelled within. As they reached the far side of the cemetery his friends lept over the fence and began to run for home, leaving Rahkard alone. No longer wishing to be here Rahkard hurried after them, but as he jumped the fence his cloak caught on a jagged piece and held him tight. All his fears came to life as he fought to free himself. In his mind Rahkard believed that it was a risen Soquili holding onto him. Too afraid to look back Rahkard fought to become free. His heart beat faster and faster and he believed that he would die. He screamed out for his friends to help, but they only laughed at him, thinking he was fooling around and so they continued home. Though he pulled hard his cloak held firm on the fence, only ripping slightly. His fear escalated and with his heart beating so fast and loud that he couldn't hear anything else his world turned black and his body slumped to the ground. Several hours later his eyes opened. Slowly he got to his feet and after a few foggy moments remembered what had happened to him. Turning around he found his cloak was no longer caught on the fence but had been torn and was covered with blood. He quickly looked himself over but found no hints of injury. The stallion could have chose to just go home and forget it all happened. However something had changed within him, he was no longer afraid of the cemetery, but instead decided to make it his home, acting as the ghost that mothers warned their foals about. He would ensure that no one crossed through the cemetery ever again and those that tried would suffer the consequences. Comments: In the version my grandfather told me a young man cut through a cemetery and got his coat caught on the fence. He was so scared that a risen dead had him that he died of a heart attack and was found the next day.
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Posted: Wed Nov 02, 2011 2:29 pm
-Voiding because I recently won a freebie from the rp contest-
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Posted: Wed Nov 02, 2011 2:38 pm
I'm ready for my Closeup, Mr Demille twisted Name of Soquili: Kamatayan Temper: Vengeful Entry Was it inspired by a story? Inspired by Godfather Death. Rough Description of Story: A poor man had twelve children and was forced to work night and day to give them even bread. When therefore the thirteenth came into the world, he knew not what to do in his trouble, but ran out into the great highway, and resolved to ask the first person whom he met to be godfather. The first to meet him was the good God who already knew what filled his heart, and said to him, poor man, I pity you. I will hold your child at its christening, and will take charge of it and make it happy on earth. The man said, who are you. I am God. Then I do not desire to have you for a godfather, said the man, you give to the rich, and leave the poor to hunger. Thus spoke the man, for he did not know how wisely God apportions riches and poverty. He turned therefore away from the Lord, and went farther. Then the devil came to him and said, what do you seek. If you will take me as a godfather for your child, I will give him gold in plenty and all the joys of the world as well. The man asked, who are you. I am the devil. Then I do not desire to have you for godfather, said the man, you deceive men and lead them astray. He went onwards, and then came death striding up to him with withered legs, and said, take me as godfather. The man asked, who are you. I am death, and I make all equal. Then said the man, you are the right one, you take the rich as well as the poor, without distinction, you shall be godfather. Death answered, I will make your child rich and famous, for he who has me for a friend can lack nothing. The man said, next sunday is the christening, be there at the right time. Death appeared as he had promised, and stood godfather quite in the usual way. When the boy had grown up, his godfather one day appeared and bade him go with him. He led him forth into a forest, and showed him a herb which grew there, and said, now you shall receive your godfather's present. I make you a celebrated physician. When you are called to a patient, I will always appear to you. If I stand by the head of the sick man, you may say with confidence that you will make him well again, and if you give him of this herb he will recover, but if I stand by the patient's feet, he is mine, and you must say that all remedies are in vain, and that no physician in the world could save him. But beware of using the herb against my will, or it might fare ill with you. It was not long before the youth was the most famous physician in the whole world. He had only to look at the patient and he knew his condition at once, whether he would recover, or must needs die. So they said of him, and from far and wide people came to him, sent for him when they had anyone ill, and gave him so much money that he soon became a rich man. Now it so befell that the king became ill, and the physician was summoned, and was to say if recovery were possible. But when he came to the bed, death was standing by the feet of the sick man, and the herb did not grow which could save him. If I could but cheat death for once, thought the physician, he is sure to take it ill if I do but, as I am his godson, he will shut one eye, I will risk it. He therefore took up the sick man, and laid him the other way, so that now death was standing by his head. Then he gave the king some of the herbs, and he recovered and grew healthy again. But death came to the physician, looking very black and angry, threatened him with his finger, and said, you have betrayed me, this time I will pardon it, as you are my godson, but if you venture it again, it will cost you your neck, for I will take you yourself away with me. Soon afterwards the king's daughter fell into a severe illness. She was his only child, and he wept day and night, so that he began to lose the sight of his eyes, and he caused it to be made known that whosoever rescued her from death should be her husband and inherit the crown. When the physician came to the sick girl's bed, he saw death by her feet. He ought to have remembered the warning given by his godfather, but he was so infatuated by the great beauty of the king's daughter, and the happiness of becoming her husband, that he flung all thought to the winds. He did not see that death was casting angry glances on him, that he was raising his hand in the air, and threatening him with his withered fist. He raised up the sick girl, and placed her head where her feet had lain. Then he gave her some of the herb, and instantly her cheeks flushed red, and life stirred afresh in her. When death saw that for a second time his own property had been misused, he walked up to the physician with long strides, and said, all is over with you, and now the lot falls on you, and seized him so firmly with his ice-cold hand, that he could not resist, and led him into a cave below the earth. There he saw how thousands and thousands of candles were burning in countless rows, some large, some medium-sized, others small. Every instant some were extinguished, and others again burnt up, so that the flames seemed to leap hither and thither in perpetual change. See, said death, these are the lights of men's lives. The large ones belong to children, the medium-sized ones to married people in their prime, the little ones belong to old people, but children and young folks likewise have often only a tiny candle. Show me the light of my life, said the physician, and he thought that it would be still very tall. Death pointed to a little end which was just threatening to go out, and said, behold, it is there. Ah, dear godfather, said the horrified physician, light a new one for me, do it for love of me, that I may enjoy my life, be king, and the husband of the king's beautiful daughter. I cannot, answered death, one must go out before a new one is lighted. Then place the old one on a new one, that will go on burning at once when the old one has come to an end, pleaded the physician. Death behaved as if he were going to fulfill his wish, and took hold of a tall new candle, but as he desired to revenge himself, he purposely made a mistake in fixing it, and the little piece fell down and was extinguished. Immediately the physician fell on the ground, and now he himself was in the hands of death. Comments:
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Posted: Wed Nov 02, 2011 4:39 pm
~Still working~ I'm ready for my Closeup, Mr Demille twisted Name of Soquili: Kristanya Lurvehette Meaning: Kristanya- One of the writers of the original story is named Christopher, I just feminized it. Lurvehette- I velieve is the norse word for 'tattered'. Temper: Reliant Entry Wooden spoonDoll example *But more flexible. Also wearing a plain white dress, and a goats head instead of a human head. Hood *just an example, doesnt have to look exaclty like this* Was it inspired by a story? Yes. It is from the Norse fairy tale; Tatterhood. Rough Description of Story: The story of Kris starts with her parents. Her parents are the leaders of a well renowned tribe. They are almost the equal to a king and queen in terms of humans. They had been trying for years to have foals, but success had not graced them. One day, a traveling shaman and his brother came across their land. They had heard the two were unsuccessful and wanted to help. But the brother was the maschevious type, and after the shaman confirmed the pregnancy, he told the mare “Do not rejoice so soon, for though one of your foals shall be beautiful beyond dreams, the other shall be ugliest beyond your nightmares.” It was then that the shaman and his brother disappeared. Leaving the mare weeping in her fields. Soon after, the mare did bear foals. The first to come was a young filly, born with a wooden spoon in her mouth. It was true what the brother had said, she was ugly and clumsy. But after her birth, was the birth of a gorgeous filly. One born with grace and beauty that no one had ever seen before. Of course, the mother tryed to keep the two sisters apart, but nothing could be done. The two sisters were always be each others side. One day, when they were still youge, a rival kalona tribe invaded them. They captured the younger sister. The last Kris saw of her sister, an elder kalona was putting the skin of a goats head over her sisters head. Kris vowed to her parents that she would rescue her sister. And now, her story continues, on the journey to seek where the kalona tribe has taken her. Comments: I can’t really make an image, so I shall describe the items here nwn. ~A tattered hood that is up. ~A doll wearing a white dress. It is of a human, but instead of a human head, she has a goats head. ~A wooden spoon *like a mixing spoon* in her mouth. The handle, not the spoon part. So it is going perpendicular to her mouth. ~She has long red, wavy hair. It is a deep rich red. She has 'cleopatra' bangs, but the bangs in front of her ears is so long it drags on the ground. Her back hair is around knee length. You cant see her hair with the hood up except the bangs by her ears. ~She has goat horns that go out sideways. If you look in the background of the spoon ref, you can see a ref of the horns. They poke out through holes in the hood.
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Posted: Wed Nov 02, 2011 7:25 pm
I'm ready for my Closeup, Mr Demille twisted Name of Soquili: Serpentis Temper: Guilt-ridden Entry Was it inspired by a story? " Tales of Snakes" (first story) by the Brothers Grimm Rough Description of Story: There was once was a little child whose mother gave her everyday a bowl of milk and piece of bread. And where the human child would eat under a willow tree, once came along a snake-like Soquili who took interest in the little girl. The little girl, not frightened by the intimidating looking Soquili, offered to share her bread and milk and the two became fast friends. The Soquili would bring the little girl treasures from his travels: gems, feathers, and small trinkets to play with.
But one day the mother saw her child speaking to the Soquili and she was terrified. Certainly this beast was some kind of Kalona from hell, or Kelpi from the watery death-traps. She rushed out to defend her child with a log, beating the Soquili mercilessly.
Frightened, and defending his life, the Soquili struck out with his hooves and struck the woman down. Frightened about what he done: he ran away, leaving the little girl to her grief.
It was many moons later before the Soquili came back looking for the little girl. However, with no mother to give her milk and bread, the little girl eventually withered away and the Soquili found naught but their bones nestled together under the willow tree.
Comments: Colorists can feel free to add more little accouterments to his leather straps and bands: gems or colored stones. Thanks for considering!
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Posted: Wed Nov 02, 2011 8:45 pm
I'm ready for my Closeup, Mr Demille twisted Name of Soquili: Red Ryder Temper: Spoiled Entry  Was it inspired by a story? Red Ridinghood Rough Description of Story: The victors of every battle write the history books. Future generations only learn what THEY want known. And the story of Little Red Ridinghood was no different.
Now, your parents will tell you that she was a sweet little girl, sent to care for her ailing grandmother. They’ll say that the big bad wolf saw her and wanted to make a snack of the poor thing. They’ll claim, because it was how history told the story, that the wolf gobbled up the poor grannie and wore her clothes to fool innocent Red into thinking he was her grandmother. Then they’ll tell you a load of marlarky about big eyes, nose, ears and teeth. Finally, they’ll explain how a hunter came to save the day, rescuing the darling child and killing the evil wolf dead.
Well, my darlings, gather round. Just this once, and ONLY this once, I’ll tell you the TRUE story of Red Ridinghood and her evil wolf. The story that never made it to the history books, because, you see, the victors get to write history. And the wolf lost.
Red, as we’ll call her, wasn’t a sweet, innocent little girl. In fact, she was a rather entitled, spoiled brat. She was a pretty thing and knew just how to use that to her advantage. But her parents were suffering through hard times, before they died, leaving red with their meager belongings.
Without her folks to leech off of… er… to support her, Red set out to reacquaint herself with her rich old grandmother.
Who was as healthy as a… well… horse.
Now, there certainly was a wolf, and he did live in Gran’s forest. However, he rather liked Gran, and protected her. He would never have hurt the sweet old mare, not for anything. And certainly not for a filly that he could smell was rotten to the core.
Gran, of course, didn’t realize what a brat…er…conniving little beastie her granddaughter was, and she ignored all of poor Wolf’s warnings. Such a pretty thing couldn’t possibly be evil! And she was such a wonderful cook!
You see, Red delighted in making cookies for her darling gran. Each one her own, personal recipe. Before long, Gran’s impeccable health started to fail, and she never once thought to blame those cookies. Wolf, growing ever more alarmed, finally confronted Red… as a wolf would do.
He attacked her. Red, prepared for the attack, cried out and drew the dying grandmother to her aide. Of course, Gran knew her old friend, and rather than chase the wolf away as Red had hoped, begged him to explain why he would attack her precious family.
Wolf raced into the kitchen, rather than answer, and knocked over the cabinet that Red kept her cookie ingredients in. Pesky little bugger. There was simply no way of hiding the arsnic that was the special ingredient in the cookies Gran loved so much. And at that point, there was no denying it.
As Gran stared at her daughter’s daughter in horror, Red grinned and shrugged. “Ah well, I so hoped this wouldn’t get messy,” she had said. Before sneaking out the hatchet. Wolf, ever one to protect his friend, lunged at her but he wasn’t quick enough. He’d underestimated Red’s ruthlessness.
Red gutted him before he ever had a chance to get his teeth into her. Then, she descended on her screaming grandmother. It was quite a mess, really, and she was drenched by the time her grandmother’s cries brought her neighboring woodsman running. By that time, the ever resourceful Red had already figured out a cover story. She’d scraped herself up and was huddled in a corner before the stallion ever came onto the scene.
“T…the wolf,” she sobbed when she saw him. “He… he went mad… I… I had no choice… oh gods… what have I done?”
And from there, my darlings, it was really very easy to convince everyone that the wolf had grown obsessed with devouring the granddaughter. So very believable was the story that everyone forgot that he was devoted to the old mare. And naturally, the woodsman couldn’t let the poor thing continue to blame herself for killing the wolf, so he took on the credit himself.
The victors always get to write the history books, and as a result, they always get to be the good guys. There’s a life lesson for you, chickadees. If you want to come out smelling like a rose, dripping with jewels, you don’t have to be good. You just have to win.
Comments: twisted
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