Diedre's Soul

[Diedre's Soul]

Picture:
Nick Name: Diedre
Gender: Mare
Personality:

Diedre, like her sire before her, is as wild and untamable as the wind that whips through her mane. Her dam was of gentler stock, but this temperament was not passed on to her daughter. Diedre always went her own way, usually getting herself and anyone with her into trouble. Many a sticky situation she got into, and some were not so easy to get out. She’s gentled over time, though not by much. Some unforeseen problems occurred to bring about this change in spirit, which has affected her greatly. She’s very skittish, and with good reason. She doesn’t like being snuck up on, and doesn’t like quiet. When someone annoys her, she usually just lets them have it. Unless they’ve already had the sharp side of her tongue and have thoroughly cowed her. Then she stays quiet and waits for them to hush.

History: Diedre was born on a farm. She had a good life, having been bred to have been a stud or a brood mare, depending on her breed. She knew that amongst the horses on the farm, that wasn’t exactly a great position. But she didn’t care. She had amazing lines, and if she’d had a smarter owner, would have been used for other things. She could run faster then the prized stallions on the farm, could do anything better then most. She was gentle with the humans, fast with any jockey, and could jump higher then the show horses. And yet she was designated to be a brood mare. This angered her later in life, when she learned of her potential. She strove to impress her master, but he just kept her as she was. When she turned five he came down, talking about some sort of stallion they would bring in soon. She’d gotten terrified then, not wanting to breed with just anyone. She bolted later, when he took her out to the paddock. He hadn’t expected it from her, and so could do nothing about it. She got hurt later on that year, running from some animal. It left her blind, never able to see the colors that painted the sunrise. She didn’t mind that much, except that it interfered with a lot that she did. She found the bridge quite by accident, her feet stumbling across it. She entered gratefully though, happy to have a path under her feet again. There she stood, a six year old blind mare, with no one that cared for her in this little world. No one that knew her.
Species: Horse
Age: 6
Height: 15.3 hh
Sire: Black Soul
Dam: Souls Breath
Siblings: None
Breed: Gyspy Vanner
Color: Paint
Markings:

Along with a blaze and snip.

Other:

Nope

OOC Name: Mags
Magic Word: electric23
Role Play Sample:

Her lips were clamped tightly together as she stared down at the inedible food that was given to her. She shook her head faintly, but it was perceptible. James and Luke stared at her, silently willing her to look at them. She wouldn’t, keeping her gaze pinned on her food. She would not eat, not now. She wasn’t anorexic, not really. She didn’t eat a lot, true, but she didn’t have an eating disorder. She liked to eat, sometimes. She just wasn’t hungry for this, who would be? She dared not flick her eyes around, carefully avoiding James and Luke, to see if others ate it. Those two would simply move into her path of site. The only reason they hadn’t already was because she had her head bowed over her food. Dammit, Alice. Look at me! I’m not gonna deal with this for much more. His voice, James’s, sounded in her head. She was sure she heard it in her ears, sure that others could hear it. But she was wrong, he was just another symptom of her schizophrenia. Honey, why won’t you look at us? We’re sorry about what happened. We’re sorry you’re locked in her. But, dammit, Alice, you can’t do this to us. We need you. And there was Luke. Sweet, usually kind, Luke. He was not quite so gruff as James, but he certainly made her do more things. He was the one that made her do so much. But James was the one that was straight up about things. He gave her a flat order, and expected it to be followed. And it usually was.

She shook her head again, more obvious. Make me, f**kers. She growled at them. She was still soar about having to be here. If they hadn’t freaked her out, her father wouldn’t have noticed something was wrong. She’d still be in the attic, yes. Hell, she’d still be raped by her father. But she wouldn’t have the white walls. She wouldn’t have the meds. She wouldn’t have the damnable therapists! She clenched her fists till her longish fingernails bit into her palms. She felt the liquid coming out of the holes she was digging into her hands, and smiled grimly. They’d make her cut her fingernails soon, she knew. But they hadn’t yet, and that she was grateful for. She let her hands go loose and examined them. Little crescent moons of blood were forming and she nodded slowly, closing her eyes. Yes, victory. Blood and pain. It was a little thing that reminded her that she was still alive. She could still bleed, she could still hurt. Now she didn’t have something reminding her of pain every night. Reminding her of life. What would she do? With those extra hours. What could she do? Sleep. She supposed that was what a normal person in her life did. She wasn’t normal though. She’d lived with incest. She’d been harmed by her father. What was she now?

She picked up her fork with her now bloodied hand, and poked at some multi-colored thing. She was stunned they’d given her a fork. No knife though. She smirked at the thought. No knife? But you gave me a fork? Dimwits. She thought to herself. She moved to pocket the slightly sharp fork, hoping to get it away. She wanted the sharpish object that they’d accidentally given her. Probably thought she was a ward A. She needed a bit more security then that. And yet, she did not think she was being watched like a maniac. She did not feel eyes on her. She thought she might actually be ignored right then. She controlled her expressions, going back to her before non eating state. She wouldn’t eat today, she decided. She realized that Luke and James had said nothing since she’d spoken. She glanced up, wincing at the pure beauty of the two males, and realized that they had been thoroughly chided. She hardly ever was harsh with them. After all, she’d ceased to be herself. Why wouldn’t she have become them? Because they’d never been human.

[Thunder Knight]

Nice job, could you please put "blaze and snip" in place of the "random paint markings which go with her coloring"?

Thank you.

[Diedre's Soul]

Added it.

[Thunder Knight]

Thanks,

Accepted.