|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu May 14, 2009 10:27 am
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu May 14, 2009 10:30 am
go west-- paradise is there. you'll have all that you can eat of milk & honey over there.
page one.
x. Pygmies o. Chibis x. -- o. -- x. Lyndsey [centaur/ m] o. Teresa [satyr/ f] x. Yael [minotaur/ f] o. Nacarile del Oriente [centaur/ f] x. Hugo (CC); [unicorn/ m SOMETIMES I WONDER] o. Magdalena [centaur/ f] x. Cascabel [foxtaur/ m] o. Ellegua [syrin/ m] x. Obadiah Rook [wolftaur/ m]
page two.
o. ????? [invisitaur/ yes...] x. Ferrao [cervitaur/ male] o. Ahura Mazda [naga/ male/ NPC] x. Temitope [centaur/ male] o. Isra Noor [cattaur/ female] x. Amir [cattaur/ male]
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu May 14, 2009 10:31 am
 HE PUNCHES ROBOTS IN THE FACE.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu May 14, 2009 10:32 am
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu May 14, 2009 10:33 am
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu May 14, 2009 10:34 am
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu May 14, 2009 10:35 am
i kept a chain upon my door that would shake the shame of Cain into a blind submission.
 
Name: Lyndsey Name's Meaning: Lincoln's marsh; island of linden trees; lenient he is not! Nicknames: Lyn, Lynds (hard d), poop
Likes: Not much! Body paints, order (to an almost extreme degree), companionship (though he'll deny this up and down), honey (even though he's allergic)
Dislikes: Everything, himself, life, angstangstangst
Quirks: Has a humongous soft spot for kids, neurotic, hypochondriac, socially retarded.
Nutshell: Sour, discontent, shrewd, uncertain
Personality: Lydnsey has the personality of the red-headed adopted orphan that just-so-happens to also be the middle child. Daddy Warbucks not included.
Can you say gawkward?
Lyndsey is almost always discontent. His social skills really are nil and he has trust issues he needs to get over. While he smiles and plays with children, he can't exactly socialize with those his age without making biting commentary about them, their antics, or motives. It really makes him just as bad as the others, but he likes to hold himself apart from them.
Has met:
Izadora (cervitaur/f);
Akiye (centaur/f);
Reyson (cattaur/m);
A little bit of a past...
Lyndsey wasn't raised by the usual means. When he was still a colt, he was found by an elderly human woodsman and his finicky wife, who upon seeing the 'poor dear, surely! orphaned by his parents, just lookathim, darling!' insisted they take him home. Peter, unable to deny his wife much of anything, complied as though the entire ordeal of a child - and one with four hooves, at that! - was akin to keeping a puppy.
It was Delia, not Peter, that cared for the boy though both loved him. She made sure he was clean and safe and proper, and he, hungry for attention, followed her around the house, eagerly learning her household duties. Lyndsey grew up sheltered, under a roof that maintained an orderly set of rules and customs, which he grew to love.
No, don't go over there, dear, that's dirty, make sure to eat everything on your plate, oh, don't! jump in those puddles, you'll get pneumonia and die!
The outside world was dangerous and full of calamity according to his mother, just look how I found you, alone and unloved!, she would always tell him with a sagely nod. But then I took you home and gave you what the world refused, she continued, ultimately meaning well as she gathered Lyndsey into her arms. Yes, fate told me I should save you!
Lyndsey believed her.
Peter was, in a word, gentler with the boy. Though not much of a talker (why speak when Delia had all the words in the world?), when he spent time with Lyndsey, it was usually in companionable silence. He taught him how to work with his hands outside of the house, hunting and trapping, but was also the first to introduce him to painting. Well, mostly the house or whitewashing the fence, but it still charmed the young centaur. Peter had a tendency of painting murals on the sides of his house before going over them again, and Lyndsey often wondered what kind of stories were under there prior to his arrival.
Their life was a fairly normal one, unassuming. But the summer of Lyndsey's thirteenth year, Peter passed away in his sleep. Completely unexpected by both Delia and Lyndsey (though he was fairly certain his father was quite old), it undid the normalcy of their lives. Delia became that much more of a recluse, subjecting her adopted son to her barely restrained panic. While he handled it well, it was his mother's neuroticism that began to shape his overall outlook on life. The rules in their home became more rigid, more set and Lyndsey himself drank in his mother's bitterness. If a person could become any more like their mother....
Delia managed to live seven more years after the death of her husband, sick with worry as she had been. And Lyndsey, left with a home shadowed with his mother's spirit, decided it was high time he started his own life.
...He just didn't realize how tough that would be when he decided to try.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu May 14, 2009 10:35 am
you fooled me again- fooled me again with your honesthonesthonest eyes! again, fooled me again with your dirty mouth full of honest lies!
 
Name: Teresa Name's Meaning: One who reaps (your goods, ho ho ho!) Nicknames: --
Likes: Gossip, dancing, laughing, gossip, old wives' tales, music, gossip.
She plays several instruments, though her preferred is a small concertina she inherited from her great grandfather.
Dislikes: Zealots, but not much else~
Quirks: Very obvious eavesdropper and not ashamed of it! In fact, hardly any shame at all! She accepts her heritage, but it easily influenced by her peers on what she should think.
Nutshell: Bubbly, sharp, easily amused, quick-witted liar
Personality: Teresa is a good girl. At least, she thinks she is. She has a tendency to mother hen those around her, tossing out diminutive terms like they were chicken feed, and not taking one thing seriously. She act a bit like a six-year-old, lying even when there's nothing to lie about. She is sweet, though, in that attentive, childish way of hers and has charm for miles.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu May 21, 2009 9:06 pm
yesterday i felt just like a child: a little curious, a little wild. live in the moment and never go out of style... you know it's really been a while. 
Name: Yael Name's Meaning: Ibex (type of goat) Nicknames: --
Likes: Wrestling, doing small favors for friends, logic, cleanliness, stuff that makes sense, rowdy crowds, smoking water pipes with friends, liquor
Dislikes: The unexplainable, the intangible, magic, liquor (because she can't hold it worth a damn!)
Quirks: Has a tendency to act stiff and no-nonsense, but is quite nurturing when out of the limelight. She has trouble keeping her big yap shut, so she's not the best person to tell secrets to (especially when she's wasted).
Nutshell: Determined, frank, competitive, easily won over
Personality: Yael is a hard worker. Despite wandering from the mountains in order to hone her wrestling prowess, she has always proudly upheld her minotaur bloodline wherever she traveled. She absolutely adores physical activity, be it wrestling (her profession) or simply hauling things around and helping out. The more active she is, the happier she is.
The men she often travels with refer to her as The Empress simply because of her unwavering beliefs and opinions. Plus, she could knock their teeth out if they tried calling her something else. While her presence demands respect, she will give it also; she's not a total b***h. Although, damn, don't catch her during a match. She will be insufferably cocky.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed May 27, 2009 8:04 am
ni me despierten, dejenme vivir soñando-- esto esta tan bueno como guarapo con hielo, como china mandarina que con la mano la pelo. Nacarile is: On a false quest....
Name: Nacarile del Oriente Name's Meaning: Pearl from the Orient in Spanish, it's also a colloquial phrase meaning something to the effect of 'not a chance!' or 'not likely!' Nicknames: Nacarile
Likes: Life, folktales, the ocean, quoting proverbs or her mother, laughter, kisses, the sun, sliding down sandy dunes, dancing like no one's watching, coconuts, abalone, driftwood, the list goes on....
Dislikes: Actually, being friends with Tassos brings about a lot of dislikes. Like belligerence. And being questioned into a corner. And unnecessary suspicions. But... she's also come to find the most bizarre qualities in a person the most endearing.
Quirks: Nacarile smiles no matter the occasion and because of this, she's a confusing book to read. She tries not to be confrontational, because it makes her impulsive. Incredibly loving.
Nutshell: Patient, warm, strong, genuine.
Personality: Nacarile was born with the inability to see the bad in a person. Well, if she can see it, she tries not to give in to it. She believes that no matter how jaded a person is, they were born inherently good and thus are capable of kindness still. No soul's too dark, and no past too unpleasant to undo. Persistent, she will go out of her way to greet and please the ones around her with stories and sayings. Though no pushover, her sweetness is either cause for happiness or suspicion within others.
Children: Domenic of Tangles (son), Capicu (son), Cascasquia (daughter), Alvaro del Oriente Tangles (son), Ceres of Tangles (daughter)
Has met:
Clara (cattaur/f);
Tassos of Tangles (centaur/m);
Perhaps History, Perhaps Not....
“Then how was I made, Mami, if I never had a father?”
And her mother laughed and laughed and laughed as if her daughter had asked the most absurd question she’d ever heard; laughed a sound that could part the clouds over even the most turbulent seas. Nacarile bowed her head, shy in the overwhelming shadow her mother cast over her. The older woman touched her daughter’s cheek and smiled her light over her darling seed.
“Why, mi vida, you were not born. I made you! with these two coarse hands of mine.”
Pilar de Sal turned her daughter towards the sea and stretched her arms out as though they could encompass it in its mighty vastness. Waves stampeded towards shore, eager to break for land, but denied their wanderlust as they were dragged back into the ocean. Nacarile gazed out across the water, eyes stinging against the way the sun lit up the gem-clear sea as the two collided, sparked, exploded. The roar of the sea was no intimidation for the filly – it was her lullaby, her other mother… the sound of life before birth. She turned her eyes up towards her corporeal mother.
“I don’t understand. Mami, tell me,” she implored.
Her mother smiled out to sea, that smile that she could never quite catch with just her eyes. Those smiles convinced Nacarile that the sun was in love with her mother, the roundness of her cheek, the blackness of her skin.
“I was walking by the shore one morning and I decided – World, I want a daughter! One of my very own! So I prayed to the sea, prayed for a daughter, and you know what she told me one night while I slept? She said, Pilar de Sal, mi hija de la tierra, walk the shore and find a piece of driftwood. Carve from this wood a belly and I will return when you finish. So of course, when I woke, I did as I was told and carved a hollow within a lost piece of driftwood. It took me three days because my knife was dull from hunting. So when I finished, I slept with this wooden belly beneath my head.
So upon the second night, the Sea came back to me and told me – she told me – wash what you have hewn by my word within the water of my shore. When I awakened, I did just that. I soaked the wooden belly within the bubbling waves and again went to bed with the belly tucked beneath my head.
That night was silent, however, and when I rose to greet the morning with no memory of the Sea’s words, I worried. Oh, I worried! I thought – had I not done what she had asked? The entire day I spent lamenting over my loss, a misdeed I did not understand.”
“But, Mami,” Nacarile cut in, looking up at her mother. “I’m here!”
“Oh, yes, you are! But listen. I went to sleep again that night, that wooden belly clutched to my chest. I heard the ocean in my dreams and called out to her, ‘Ocean! I have done what you have asked of me, and you are silent! What have I done?’ I said this, upset as I was, and you know what the Sea did? She laughed!
‘You have done all I have asked of you, daughter, awaken now. It is the fourth day.’ And like that, I awoke. I rose from my bed early in the morning and followed the song of the sea as she called to me. Standing on the threshold to her world that dark morning, I waited for her word.
She spoke through me, within me. Set that hewn belly aflame, she said. I did not hesitate – would not fire destroy my work? I was not thinking. I set the belly aflame and held it in my hands. Give me the child, the Sea continued. And I did. I flung all of my work and patience into her open arms. And you know what happened then?”
Nacarile stared up at her mother, wide-eyed. “What?” she breathed.
“You happened, my daughter! The waves broke over your head and you came prancing from the mouth of the sea, arms out, crying ‘Mami! Mami!’ like you had known me all along!”
Pilar de Sal threw her arms around her daughter and picked her up off the ground to her daughter’s delight. Nacarile squealed with laughter, tickled by her mother’s nose.
“Nuh uh, nuh uh!” she shrieked, bringing her shoulders up as her mother blew into her ears.
“Oh, yes you did! And I named you Nacarile! Nacarile del Oriente, my little impossible pearl of the Orient! I am sure to this day you walked the entire sea floor to get to me!”
The little golden filly laughed, buried her face into her mother’s stomach and breathed in the familiar salt-scent of the sea.
Arrival to the Isles

|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed May 27, 2009 8:04 am
russian roulette is not the same without a gun-- and baby when it's love, if it's not rough it isn't fun. Chiron City!
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jun 22, 2009 6:55 pm
oh, you pretty things: don't you know you're driving your mamas and papas insane?
Name: Magdalena Name's Meaning: Woman from Magdala Nicknames: Maggie, Lena
Likes: Lilies, good food, crude jokes and raucous laughter.
Dislikes: Smart asses (because she is one!), people stealing her thunder, other girls (occasionally)
Quirks: Gullible as a newborn!
Nutshell: Witty, silver tongued, quick-tempered, laughs easily.
Personality:
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jun 22, 2009 6:57 pm
Name: Cascabel Name's Meaning: Bell Nicknames: Casca, Bell[e]
Likes: Summer, swimming, sewing, heavy winter coats, having his haunches scritched (best. feeling. EVER.), cranberries and cranberry juice, outgoing people.
Dislikes: The cold!
Quirks: Plays with his tail, scared VERY easily, odd sense of humor.
Nutshell: Quiet, shy, snide, effeminate, clingy.
Personality:
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 8:30 am
Name: Ellegua Name's Meaning: Not necessarily the meaning, but his name was taken from the Orisha (spirit) responsible for "opening the ways" in Yoruba myth. Nicknames: --
Likes: A good many things that people would believe junk! Ellegua loves coconuts, candies, and toys - if a child would enjoy it, then so would he! He's also fond of cowrie shells and any shell with a moon snail hole!
Dislikes: Wet feathers, arrogance, ego
Quirks:
Nutshell: Loyal, mischievous, loud, prankster
Personality: Ellegua is a real mischief maker at heart. Just imagine a young boy stuck in an adult's body and you'll understand the sort of syrin he is! Fond of fun and games, he'll carelessly abandon a group of people if he sees another is having way more fun. Maybe that makes him a little fickle, but the moment he senses he's in the wrong, he'll do whatever it takes to rectify his misdeed. Doesn't exactly mean he learns from his mistakes, though....
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 01, 2009 11:28 am
Name: Obadiah Rook Name's Meaning: Servant of Jehovah; a bird of the crow family or a piece in chess (the castle) Nicknames: Obi, though not many live to tell the tale! :[ He usually goes by 'Rook' most days.
Likes:
Dislikes:
Quirks:
Nutshell:
Personality:
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|