Post by tbone on Jan 26, 2010 20:19:28 GMT -5
Name of Character(s): The Reverend
Text: name and quote
Quote:
“I'm not your friend, I won't soothe your soul
And in the end you're all dead to me...”
Species: Horse/Ghost
Age: Unknown, he looks about eight or nine
Gender: Stallion
Breed: Akhal Teke sort of hybrid
Colour: Black, bright blue eyes
Physical Appearance: He’s very slender with almost unnaturally long legs making him look ungainly and awkward. The Rev isn’t considered conventionally handsome and has more of the mysterious allure than anything. Due to his unfortunate state of being he’s not ever all there, he fluctuates between existing and not, usually with some of his body, normally the extremities partially see through.
Personality: He’s a very quiet and detached character, he spends his time quiet isolated since he doesn’t see the point in really making friends or socialising. He’s got quite a bleak outlook on life, and always finds it pointless when others try and change their destiny, he’s very into the idea that fate is the be all and end all, and that no matter how hard you try and run it’ll catch you in the end.
Images or References:
fantasydesignstock.deviantart.com/art/Gaited-Horse-125-123946249
fantasydesignstock.deviantart.com/art/Gaited-Horse-129-123946660
fantasydesignstock.deviantart.com/art/Gaited-Horse-131-124044267
fantasydesignstock.deviantart.com/art/Gaited-Horse-124-123946126
Image Ideas: Something quite dark and solemn, since he’s a bit of a stoic character. But, no really cliché dark stuff since he’s not a bad guy, just a bit bleak really. I would quite like to have part of his ghostliness showing though.
Example post with requested character:
It’s not a great sample, since this is the first post I’ve done with him and I’ve not got a perfect grasp on his character yet.
The oracle would be his first port of call; in this land that he was entirely new to but not at all unnerved by he would go to seek someone of knowledge, someone that he would consider to share the same ethereal state of mind as his. It wasn’t that he considered himself to be of greater knowledge or to have more experience than others that were here, but The Reverend didn’t work on the same wavelength as other mortals. Stuck in limbo in his eyes, he didn’t care for the intricate and sometimes unnecessary drama that others engage themselves in; instead he sought out facts, not opinions, not ideas, just plain hard facts.
Before his untimely death he had still been like this, however much more carefree, troubles were thrown to the wind and his life had been based on nothing more than fun and attempting to delay the inevitable, all of which had been futile. Now, he knows, as he is a victim of it, fate cannot be halted, cannot be diverted, when things are decided they will happen as they are planned by whatever force of nature creates them. It seems comical that he arrived in this land on the brink of mass hysteria and chaos, just when the world was to be torn apart and turned upside down, when the kingdoms would battle to prevent the impending doom, he knows that all he and everyone around him can do is sit back and wait for whatever path is chosen for them, whether they live or die.
Having decided the land that he should live in, underneath the rule of Balthazar and Giltine, he had moved straight on to find this deity of the world, the namesake of the entire land. The Oracle in itself is beautiful, great trees allowing only the slightest amounts of light to filter through the almost impenetrable boughs. Nice, was how he would describe it, but niceties aside he didn’t care too much about the area – he only cared about who or what resided here. Already in his mind’s eye he could picture the great god or goddess, the gender of whatever being who ruled here was unknown to him, it was a minor detail that would be resolved in due course, as soon as the deity showed its face, of which he was certain she would – not that he considered himself special, but because of how few had passed here, Chaos would be more open to visitors since there had been so few as to make an appearance.
He treads the land carefully, though careful movements are all he has, he was delicately built, but being of little substance he barely made an imprint on the ground, the slightest parting of grass beneath not-there hooves, his body fluctuating between existence and not. Half here half not, never fully completely on either plane of existence.
Surely his visit would be welcomed, after all wouldn’t this Chaos creature want to poke and prod at something as novel as he. He would have done so had he been any other. With graceful steps he entered deeper into the God’s realm, inked ears flickering lightly on top of his skull, listening intently to the nothingness around him, no birds twittering in the trees despite how welcoming it looked, it was a queer place and he felt strangely at home here, not too dark, not too light – a perfect middle – shame he couldn’t take permanent residence here.
“Chaos?” His voice echoed though it was hardly loud, merely enhancing the loneliness of the place he had come to, he spoke so softly, his voice always a detached whisper, hard to hear – and his words usually even harder to understand.
Comments: Just have fun
Signature?: no thankew
Which site(s) will you be using the image to? Www.chaos-rpg.com
Specific Artist?: Any, I’m not too fussed
Text: name and quote
Quote:
“I'm not your friend, I won't soothe your soul
And in the end you're all dead to me...”
Species: Horse/Ghost
Age: Unknown, he looks about eight or nine
Gender: Stallion
Breed: Akhal Teke sort of hybrid
Colour: Black, bright blue eyes
Physical Appearance: He’s very slender with almost unnaturally long legs making him look ungainly and awkward. The Rev isn’t considered conventionally handsome and has more of the mysterious allure than anything. Due to his unfortunate state of being he’s not ever all there, he fluctuates between existing and not, usually with some of his body, normally the extremities partially see through.
Personality: He’s a very quiet and detached character, he spends his time quiet isolated since he doesn’t see the point in really making friends or socialising. He’s got quite a bleak outlook on life, and always finds it pointless when others try and change their destiny, he’s very into the idea that fate is the be all and end all, and that no matter how hard you try and run it’ll catch you in the end.
Images or References:
fantasydesignstock.deviantart.com/art/Gaited-Horse-125-123946249
fantasydesignstock.deviantart.com/art/Gaited-Horse-129-123946660
fantasydesignstock.deviantart.com/art/Gaited-Horse-131-124044267
fantasydesignstock.deviantart.com/art/Gaited-Horse-124-123946126
Image Ideas: Something quite dark and solemn, since he’s a bit of a stoic character. But, no really cliché dark stuff since he’s not a bad guy, just a bit bleak really. I would quite like to have part of his ghostliness showing though.
Example post with requested character:
It’s not a great sample, since this is the first post I’ve done with him and I’ve not got a perfect grasp on his character yet.
The oracle would be his first port of call; in this land that he was entirely new to but not at all unnerved by he would go to seek someone of knowledge, someone that he would consider to share the same ethereal state of mind as his. It wasn’t that he considered himself to be of greater knowledge or to have more experience than others that were here, but The Reverend didn’t work on the same wavelength as other mortals. Stuck in limbo in his eyes, he didn’t care for the intricate and sometimes unnecessary drama that others engage themselves in; instead he sought out facts, not opinions, not ideas, just plain hard facts.
Before his untimely death he had still been like this, however much more carefree, troubles were thrown to the wind and his life had been based on nothing more than fun and attempting to delay the inevitable, all of which had been futile. Now, he knows, as he is a victim of it, fate cannot be halted, cannot be diverted, when things are decided they will happen as they are planned by whatever force of nature creates them. It seems comical that he arrived in this land on the brink of mass hysteria and chaos, just when the world was to be torn apart and turned upside down, when the kingdoms would battle to prevent the impending doom, he knows that all he and everyone around him can do is sit back and wait for whatever path is chosen for them, whether they live or die.
Having decided the land that he should live in, underneath the rule of Balthazar and Giltine, he had moved straight on to find this deity of the world, the namesake of the entire land. The Oracle in itself is beautiful, great trees allowing only the slightest amounts of light to filter through the almost impenetrable boughs. Nice, was how he would describe it, but niceties aside he didn’t care too much about the area – he only cared about who or what resided here. Already in his mind’s eye he could picture the great god or goddess, the gender of whatever being who ruled here was unknown to him, it was a minor detail that would be resolved in due course, as soon as the deity showed its face, of which he was certain she would – not that he considered himself special, but because of how few had passed here, Chaos would be more open to visitors since there had been so few as to make an appearance.
He treads the land carefully, though careful movements are all he has, he was delicately built, but being of little substance he barely made an imprint on the ground, the slightest parting of grass beneath not-there hooves, his body fluctuating between existence and not. Half here half not, never fully completely on either plane of existence.
Surely his visit would be welcomed, after all wouldn’t this Chaos creature want to poke and prod at something as novel as he. He would have done so had he been any other. With graceful steps he entered deeper into the God’s realm, inked ears flickering lightly on top of his skull, listening intently to the nothingness around him, no birds twittering in the trees despite how welcoming it looked, it was a queer place and he felt strangely at home here, not too dark, not too light – a perfect middle – shame he couldn’t take permanent residence here.
“Chaos?” His voice echoed though it was hardly loud, merely enhancing the loneliness of the place he had come to, he spoke so softly, his voice always a detached whisper, hard to hear – and his words usually even harder to understand.
Comments: Just have fun
Signature?: no thankew
Which site(s) will you be using the image to? Www.chaos-rpg.com
Specific Artist?: Any, I’m not too fussed
