Post by » ðrêž ; on Apr 2, 2014 10:52:17 GMT -5
Name: Poltergeist
Breed: Turkoman Horse x Marwari
Gender: Female
Height: 15.2 hh
Age: 85 years
Color: Bay Overo
Markings: Black horizonal banding up legs, topped by a single deep red bad at the top, just before the appendage joins the body ; fine white lines run along face ; along the spine runs a white line from top of the head to the tail, with four bands coming off of it, on between the head and neck, two at the shoulder, and one on the hip: dark red outlining can be seen around the markings ; eyes and nose have a tendency to bleed ; dark fading around nose and eyes ; few scars from suicide attempts
Mane & Tail: Black mane with red strands, Black based tail with skunking, red strands.
Eyes: White base with reddish outlining, no pupil.
History: Poltergeist was born to a normal mare and stallion, both living within a normal herd when she was young. Her father was the lands lead, her mother not being in any particular place of power, though her father did favor her over some others. He was loyal to the queen though, breeding only with the other mares in their seasons to further his own lineage. His mother did not mind, enjoying her daughter immensely during the first few years of her life, teaching her well in the ways of the world. It was quickly found that Poltergeist had an excessive sarcastic personality. Not at all times, but it was if she was permanently stuck within her teenage years, responding to any and all stupid questions and requests with words that would sound almost genuine, if not coming from her. Of course, a few older members of the herd took offense, but in the end, all dealt with it because her mother was a lovely mare whom all adored, a mare who would often take on the hardest jobs with nothing more than a smile. Poltergeist revered her mother for this, though begged her to slow down as the years began to add up. Poltergeist could not bear to leave her mother's side, even as the herd stallion died and one of her half-brothers through the bronc took position as leave, effectively cutting off any personal gain to belonging to the herd.
Her mother's joints began to ache with arthritis, her body becoming slower and feebler. She still did all the jobs she could handle: babysitting the children, finding proper water sources, even forcing her body through it's pain to keep an eye on the rowdy yearlings that would sometimes wander too far off. Poltergeist was at her side through the entire experience, trying hard not to think of what outcome was coming, and trying to hold her ailing mother back from running herself into the ground.
It was a normal day when her mother twisted a knee while out in the field looking for greener grazing, her daughter of course beside her, but otherwise alone. Though they tried, her mother could not bring herself to her feet anymore, the other three legs in no way supporting even her lighter, bony weight. Poltergeist began to sob, not knowing what to do, being comforted by her mother who had already accepted what had been creeping up on her for years. Her daughter would stand for no sort of acceptance, babbling out all sorts of ways they could get her to her feet whilst her mother reassured her that all would be okay. Poltergeist touched the knee lightly with her muzzle, cursing it for being the reason that her mother would be ripped from her side, forced to lay here on the ground until god knows what came for her. Her eyes were squeezed tight, wishing for nothing more than to help her mother, to have more time with her. Her mother gasped, eyes fixated on her child as the first strains of blood began to pour from her nose and through clenched lids, dripping down her cheeks and lips. Her daughter's orbs flew open, no longer the bright emerald they had been, but paler, a slightly less vibrant coloration. The rims were tinged with the blood that was slowing drying in her fur, the pupil constricted to a slightly smaller point. Her eyesight was not affected, but the appearance greatly was. Her mother exclaimed over how her knee no longer hurt, and wanted to try to stand. Poltergeist helped her, giving her frame all the support she could, ready to help her limb back home to heal in the safety of the herd. But her knee no longer hurt, she could lay her weight upon in without any problems, and even exclaimed that it felt like it had five years before. Poltergeist was amazed, thinking this was a miracle the gods had given her in answer, though her mother was believing it was Poltergeist herself.
It was another month before the incident was brought back up, her mother explaining what she believed who the real miracle was. Poltergeist denied it, believing to feel no different than any other normal horse. She was eight years old, had no relations other than her mother, and did not wish for any. This in itself was looked upon as odd by the entire herd, though Poltergeist had always been a sarcastic oddity within the herd, and they chalked her staying in the herd up to that. Her mother tried to make her believe in the power she had, though at every turn she denied it completely, begging her mother to stop trying to turn her into something she was not. Her mother would close her lips tightly, preparing to bring it up at the next possible chance.
It came, one day while they walked slowly through the woods. Poltergeist was ten now, her mother even more skeletal, her bones jutting out at awkward angles and she no longer allowed to do any work for the herd other than giving advice. She was a revered member, the last one of her generation still living, looked to for all troublesome sorts of questions. She had grown completely blind, needing Poltergeist's younger form to help her steady her walk and lead her to places. Polter came across a tuft of fur, curled up and wheezing at the roots of a tree, she turned it over to see a tiny primate, more squirrel looking than anything else. A Tarsier, though she did not know exactly what it was except it had large eyes fixed in its skull and tiny hands that were clamped tightly in pain. She watched it as it was impassive to their approach, too close to death to be fearful. Her mother questioned her about the animal as Polter lowered her muzzle to it, stopping to sniff it an inch away. It's hand shot out, grasping on to the velvet fur at the tip of her nose, wanting to feel contact during the last moments of it's life. For no reason, Poltergeist began to cry, fearing the same sort of horrible death for her own mother, wishing to spare such a tragedy though unsure of how to take it away. The liquid tears began to flow thick and red, her nosing itching as coloration began to spurt forth from it, even her lips began to spew crimson as her mouth overflowed with the metallic taste. Her entire cheek was soon covered, her front muzzle looking as if it had been dipped in a pool of blood. She felt almost faint, stumbling slightly as she lifted her tiara back to it's normal height. At first, the small primate's tail began to twitch, then it's hands and feet, moving up into it's legs and arms until the entire creature lifted itself up off the ground, perfectly fine once more. Poltergeist was amazed - the creature has been so near death! She told her mother what had passed in the last few moments and her mother nodded as if she already understood, again stating the power she believed her daughter had. Polter still did not wish to believe, not feeling any different than other equines felt, though the pieces were laid out carefully before her. She wondered if such things were truly within her own power. The little tarsier was adopted by the mare, his kind so small and scarce that he was better off with the mare, and his eyes so large and his ability to see in the dark so refined that she was greatly helped in the darkness when her vision was at it's worst.
The time came, as it always does, for death to touch the lives of even the ones we love. Poltergeist's mother had lived a very long, full life, but she was unable to live forever. She laid herself down to sleep one night, next to her daughter as always, and somewhere in the darkness, her soul slipped away. Poltergeist woke up to this disturbing fact in a panicked sorrow, shoving her muzzle into her mother, begging and screaming to the gods and whatever she might have in her to give her only family back. She began to spit up blood, coughing and hacking out shreds of her insides, to no avail. As she tried to will her mother back to life, she was losing her own. She tried for as long as she could muster, before her legs gave out, leaving her entire body to fall to the ground, the front of her frame covered in her own blood. It was then she realized the price she would have to pay to give her mother life once more - her own life. She did not make the trade, knowing that her mother would never forgive her. She had lived a long, good life, a distinguished mare, and now it was time for her daughter to live her own.
Poltergeist traveled out of the herd she was born into, sleeping in abandoned caves by night and continuing her journey by day. She occasionally tested her powers: fixing small things, a broken birds wing, a cough that a fawn could not beat. She did not realize that the green color of her eyes was slipping slowly away, until at fourteen, she caught a glance of herself in a still lake, barely recognizing herself. The white, blank eyes were not her own, they did not remind her of the mare she had known herself to be. It could no longer be helped though, so she continued her journey, helping by the little bits she could, finding herself weak and stumbling if she was called upon to save those near death. The larger the animal and problem, the longer time it took her to recover from it. She could not save them all, and was routinely ousted from an area for not being strong enough to bring another back, whether the soul was too weak to draw towards the living, or the flesh too damaged to bear... she stopped trying to find out, finding her powers left her near too many sick and dying to ever feel comfortable. As time went on, and she grew older she awaited death happily. Fully prepared to leave a world where she was forced to save others, used by all and thanked by too few. Twenty years came, and she was still alive, feeling still rather young. She thought maybe that it was just her body trying to ease her into death, but when thirty came, she felt almost desperate. The endless passing of years was driving her near madness, and for a time she refused all that asked for her help, watching others suffer and die impassively, furious that she herself could not be put to rest.
At forty, Poltergeist realized that age was not going to be the deciding factor. She began to search for suicide attempts, at first, eating wellknown poisonous berries, her head and stomach both reeled from the dosage, the pain eventually forcing her to pass out. She woke up hours later, perfectly fine other than a nauseous feeling any time she thought of the plant. She became a bit more drastic, this time leaping from a cliff to land in white water, she breathed in the liquid, coughing and sputtering before eventually blacking out beneath the tumultuous water. She woke up a day later lying on sand, feeling waterlogged, but still alive. Her thoughts became drastic. She attempted to impale herself upon rocks, waking up a week later with a large scar across her stomach, but sadly, alive. She cut her throat, waking up two days after with a deep and dark scar across the front of her neck. Try after try and nothing at all, nothing could kill her. She was still following her traveling pattern, sleeping in a cave by night and traveling by the day, her Tarsier with her through it all, though it was always he that found her body, rather than going with it. One night she fell asleep in a cave around fifty feet deep, a shallow pool with some mossy growth lay at the back with small holes for animals to scurry in and out. During the night, a cave in happened, closing off her exit to the outside world. She beat on the rocks, screamed so maybe someone could hear her, but it was of no use - the area was so little frequented that it would be impossible for anyone to find her. There was no one to search for her, no one to look. After a week, she began to starve. After a month her weight had dropped considerably. She hoped that this would be the time she would be allowed to die, she would let herself wither until there was nothing more than dust. But before her body began to chew upon it's own muscle, the process stopped. Her stomach was empty, her bones protruding, but she would not die.
She began to eat the moss that grew in the cave, not caring if it was poisonous because nothing would happen anyway. It was enough to sustain her and keep her stomach from gnawing horribly, though it did not satisfy her completely. The small tarsier would run to the outside through the open holes, the only pieces of outside that she could see, to bring her bits of the outside such as grass and flowers. She counted the days as they passed, first to a year, and then to a decade. It came to the point where she would have lost track, if she was not so obsessed with her inability to die. She still felt young, though her mind did nothing but grow. Within the cave she had plenty of time to work upon her skills and powers, the progress moving at a crawl though small steps were made. She has been stuck in the cave til her eight fifth birthday, waiting to hear a sound from the outside world that would announce the possibility of rescue.
Personality: Poltergeist has a heavy sarcastic nature in response to anything she finds stupid, most of which are her own doings. Since she has lived so long she has become very impassive over her own life, prone to making quick comments about wishing she would die sounding in jest on the surface though perfectly true if one knew her well enough. Since her mother she makes no concrete connections with other equines. She has found that she has little room for compassion, only because if she were to feel bad for everyone that came across her way, she would not be able to save them all. She has found that her main ability is to heal others wounds, both emotional and physical, but that she can also wish hard enough to allow some things to happen. In a drought she has wished for rain, bringing clouds into the air - though the power is does not come as easily to her as her healing abilities do. She is always seeking further exploits of her powers, though it has become a difficult job. Without the idea of what to look for, she needs new equines to come to her and ask things to see if it can exist. Also, the larger the use of her powers, the harder it is for her to do it continuously. To heal a cut is nothing to her, though to heal a broken bone it takes time for her to recover after. The larger the being, the longer her rest needs to be. Poltergeist is a rather sweet mare beneath her exterior - she does truly want to help, but has been used badly for her gift and helps only those who she believes need it. She does not wish to make life easy for anyone, as she has lived too many years and seen many equines be healed from deformities to go down the wrong path. She likes to learn about others before she offers them anything in return, and shuts down beneath any anger or animosity towards her. She does not strike out at other, nor often give harsh words - almost fearing that anything that she does could be a curse on a being that she does not wish for. She knows inside her is the ability to harm others, but she does all she can to deny using it. Polter is not easily tricked, as she has seen many sides of people and many acts of trickery from other to get her to use her powers against the innocent. She always sends those who she finds out away immediately, and will leave an area entirely if someone tries to make her injure another being. Her primarily goal is to help those that need it, and it gives her a great sense of satisfaction when she can.
Breed: Turkoman Horse x Marwari
Gender: Female
Height: 15.2 hh
Age: 85 years
Color: Bay Overo
Markings: Black horizonal banding up legs, topped by a single deep red bad at the top, just before the appendage joins the body ; fine white lines run along face ; along the spine runs a white line from top of the head to the tail, with four bands coming off of it, on between the head and neck, two at the shoulder, and one on the hip: dark red outlining can be seen around the markings ; eyes and nose have a tendency to bleed ; dark fading around nose and eyes ; few scars from suicide attempts
Mane & Tail: Black mane with red strands, Black based tail with skunking, red strands.
Eyes: White base with reddish outlining, no pupil.
History: Poltergeist was born to a normal mare and stallion, both living within a normal herd when she was young. Her father was the lands lead, her mother not being in any particular place of power, though her father did favor her over some others. He was loyal to the queen though, breeding only with the other mares in their seasons to further his own lineage. His mother did not mind, enjoying her daughter immensely during the first few years of her life, teaching her well in the ways of the world. It was quickly found that Poltergeist had an excessive sarcastic personality. Not at all times, but it was if she was permanently stuck within her teenage years, responding to any and all stupid questions and requests with words that would sound almost genuine, if not coming from her. Of course, a few older members of the herd took offense, but in the end, all dealt with it because her mother was a lovely mare whom all adored, a mare who would often take on the hardest jobs with nothing more than a smile. Poltergeist revered her mother for this, though begged her to slow down as the years began to add up. Poltergeist could not bear to leave her mother's side, even as the herd stallion died and one of her half-brothers through the bronc took position as leave, effectively cutting off any personal gain to belonging to the herd.
Her mother's joints began to ache with arthritis, her body becoming slower and feebler. She still did all the jobs she could handle: babysitting the children, finding proper water sources, even forcing her body through it's pain to keep an eye on the rowdy yearlings that would sometimes wander too far off. Poltergeist was at her side through the entire experience, trying hard not to think of what outcome was coming, and trying to hold her ailing mother back from running herself into the ground.
It was a normal day when her mother twisted a knee while out in the field looking for greener grazing, her daughter of course beside her, but otherwise alone. Though they tried, her mother could not bring herself to her feet anymore, the other three legs in no way supporting even her lighter, bony weight. Poltergeist began to sob, not knowing what to do, being comforted by her mother who had already accepted what had been creeping up on her for years. Her daughter would stand for no sort of acceptance, babbling out all sorts of ways they could get her to her feet whilst her mother reassured her that all would be okay. Poltergeist touched the knee lightly with her muzzle, cursing it for being the reason that her mother would be ripped from her side, forced to lay here on the ground until god knows what came for her. Her eyes were squeezed tight, wishing for nothing more than to help her mother, to have more time with her. Her mother gasped, eyes fixated on her child as the first strains of blood began to pour from her nose and through clenched lids, dripping down her cheeks and lips. Her daughter's orbs flew open, no longer the bright emerald they had been, but paler, a slightly less vibrant coloration. The rims were tinged with the blood that was slowing drying in her fur, the pupil constricted to a slightly smaller point. Her eyesight was not affected, but the appearance greatly was. Her mother exclaimed over how her knee no longer hurt, and wanted to try to stand. Poltergeist helped her, giving her frame all the support she could, ready to help her limb back home to heal in the safety of the herd. But her knee no longer hurt, she could lay her weight upon in without any problems, and even exclaimed that it felt like it had five years before. Poltergeist was amazed, thinking this was a miracle the gods had given her in answer, though her mother was believing it was Poltergeist herself.
It was another month before the incident was brought back up, her mother explaining what she believed who the real miracle was. Poltergeist denied it, believing to feel no different than any other normal horse. She was eight years old, had no relations other than her mother, and did not wish for any. This in itself was looked upon as odd by the entire herd, though Poltergeist had always been a sarcastic oddity within the herd, and they chalked her staying in the herd up to that. Her mother tried to make her believe in the power she had, though at every turn she denied it completely, begging her mother to stop trying to turn her into something she was not. Her mother would close her lips tightly, preparing to bring it up at the next possible chance.
It came, one day while they walked slowly through the woods. Poltergeist was ten now, her mother even more skeletal, her bones jutting out at awkward angles and she no longer allowed to do any work for the herd other than giving advice. She was a revered member, the last one of her generation still living, looked to for all troublesome sorts of questions. She had grown completely blind, needing Poltergeist's younger form to help her steady her walk and lead her to places. Polter came across a tuft of fur, curled up and wheezing at the roots of a tree, she turned it over to see a tiny primate, more squirrel looking than anything else. A Tarsier, though she did not know exactly what it was except it had large eyes fixed in its skull and tiny hands that were clamped tightly in pain. She watched it as it was impassive to their approach, too close to death to be fearful. Her mother questioned her about the animal as Polter lowered her muzzle to it, stopping to sniff it an inch away. It's hand shot out, grasping on to the velvet fur at the tip of her nose, wanting to feel contact during the last moments of it's life. For no reason, Poltergeist began to cry, fearing the same sort of horrible death for her own mother, wishing to spare such a tragedy though unsure of how to take it away. The liquid tears began to flow thick and red, her nosing itching as coloration began to spurt forth from it, even her lips began to spew crimson as her mouth overflowed with the metallic taste. Her entire cheek was soon covered, her front muzzle looking as if it had been dipped in a pool of blood. She felt almost faint, stumbling slightly as she lifted her tiara back to it's normal height. At first, the small primate's tail began to twitch, then it's hands and feet, moving up into it's legs and arms until the entire creature lifted itself up off the ground, perfectly fine once more. Poltergeist was amazed - the creature has been so near death! She told her mother what had passed in the last few moments and her mother nodded as if she already understood, again stating the power she believed her daughter had. Polter still did not wish to believe, not feeling any different than other equines felt, though the pieces were laid out carefully before her. She wondered if such things were truly within her own power. The little tarsier was adopted by the mare, his kind so small and scarce that he was better off with the mare, and his eyes so large and his ability to see in the dark so refined that she was greatly helped in the darkness when her vision was at it's worst.
The time came, as it always does, for death to touch the lives of even the ones we love. Poltergeist's mother had lived a very long, full life, but she was unable to live forever. She laid herself down to sleep one night, next to her daughter as always, and somewhere in the darkness, her soul slipped away. Poltergeist woke up to this disturbing fact in a panicked sorrow, shoving her muzzle into her mother, begging and screaming to the gods and whatever she might have in her to give her only family back. She began to spit up blood, coughing and hacking out shreds of her insides, to no avail. As she tried to will her mother back to life, she was losing her own. She tried for as long as she could muster, before her legs gave out, leaving her entire body to fall to the ground, the front of her frame covered in her own blood. It was then she realized the price she would have to pay to give her mother life once more - her own life. She did not make the trade, knowing that her mother would never forgive her. She had lived a long, good life, a distinguished mare, and now it was time for her daughter to live her own.
Poltergeist traveled out of the herd she was born into, sleeping in abandoned caves by night and continuing her journey by day. She occasionally tested her powers: fixing small things, a broken birds wing, a cough that a fawn could not beat. She did not realize that the green color of her eyes was slipping slowly away, until at fourteen, she caught a glance of herself in a still lake, barely recognizing herself. The white, blank eyes were not her own, they did not remind her of the mare she had known herself to be. It could no longer be helped though, so she continued her journey, helping by the little bits she could, finding herself weak and stumbling if she was called upon to save those near death. The larger the animal and problem, the longer time it took her to recover from it. She could not save them all, and was routinely ousted from an area for not being strong enough to bring another back, whether the soul was too weak to draw towards the living, or the flesh too damaged to bear... she stopped trying to find out, finding her powers left her near too many sick and dying to ever feel comfortable. As time went on, and she grew older she awaited death happily. Fully prepared to leave a world where she was forced to save others, used by all and thanked by too few. Twenty years came, and she was still alive, feeling still rather young. She thought maybe that it was just her body trying to ease her into death, but when thirty came, she felt almost desperate. The endless passing of years was driving her near madness, and for a time she refused all that asked for her help, watching others suffer and die impassively, furious that she herself could not be put to rest.
At forty, Poltergeist realized that age was not going to be the deciding factor. She began to search for suicide attempts, at first, eating wellknown poisonous berries, her head and stomach both reeled from the dosage, the pain eventually forcing her to pass out. She woke up hours later, perfectly fine other than a nauseous feeling any time she thought of the plant. She became a bit more drastic, this time leaping from a cliff to land in white water, she breathed in the liquid, coughing and sputtering before eventually blacking out beneath the tumultuous water. She woke up a day later lying on sand, feeling waterlogged, but still alive. Her thoughts became drastic. She attempted to impale herself upon rocks, waking up a week later with a large scar across her stomach, but sadly, alive. She cut her throat, waking up two days after with a deep and dark scar across the front of her neck. Try after try and nothing at all, nothing could kill her. She was still following her traveling pattern, sleeping in a cave by night and traveling by the day, her Tarsier with her through it all, though it was always he that found her body, rather than going with it. One night she fell asleep in a cave around fifty feet deep, a shallow pool with some mossy growth lay at the back with small holes for animals to scurry in and out. During the night, a cave in happened, closing off her exit to the outside world. She beat on the rocks, screamed so maybe someone could hear her, but it was of no use - the area was so little frequented that it would be impossible for anyone to find her. There was no one to search for her, no one to look. After a week, she began to starve. After a month her weight had dropped considerably. She hoped that this would be the time she would be allowed to die, she would let herself wither until there was nothing more than dust. But before her body began to chew upon it's own muscle, the process stopped. Her stomach was empty, her bones protruding, but she would not die.
She began to eat the moss that grew in the cave, not caring if it was poisonous because nothing would happen anyway. It was enough to sustain her and keep her stomach from gnawing horribly, though it did not satisfy her completely. The small tarsier would run to the outside through the open holes, the only pieces of outside that she could see, to bring her bits of the outside such as grass and flowers. She counted the days as they passed, first to a year, and then to a decade. It came to the point where she would have lost track, if she was not so obsessed with her inability to die. She still felt young, though her mind did nothing but grow. Within the cave she had plenty of time to work upon her skills and powers, the progress moving at a crawl though small steps were made. She has been stuck in the cave til her eight fifth birthday, waiting to hear a sound from the outside world that would announce the possibility of rescue.
Personality: Poltergeist has a heavy sarcastic nature in response to anything she finds stupid, most of which are her own doings. Since she has lived so long she has become very impassive over her own life, prone to making quick comments about wishing she would die sounding in jest on the surface though perfectly true if one knew her well enough. Since her mother she makes no concrete connections with other equines. She has found that she has little room for compassion, only because if she were to feel bad for everyone that came across her way, she would not be able to save them all. She has found that her main ability is to heal others wounds, both emotional and physical, but that she can also wish hard enough to allow some things to happen. In a drought she has wished for rain, bringing clouds into the air - though the power is does not come as easily to her as her healing abilities do. She is always seeking further exploits of her powers, though it has become a difficult job. Without the idea of what to look for, she needs new equines to come to her and ask things to see if it can exist. Also, the larger the use of her powers, the harder it is for her to do it continuously. To heal a cut is nothing to her, though to heal a broken bone it takes time for her to recover after. The larger the being, the longer her rest needs to be. Poltergeist is a rather sweet mare beneath her exterior - she does truly want to help, but has been used badly for her gift and helps only those who she believes need it. She does not wish to make life easy for anyone, as she has lived too many years and seen many equines be healed from deformities to go down the wrong path. She likes to learn about others before she offers them anything in return, and shuts down beneath any anger or animosity towards her. She does not strike out at other, nor often give harsh words - almost fearing that anything that she does could be a curse on a being that she does not wish for. She knows inside her is the ability to harm others, but she does all she can to deny using it. Polter is not easily tricked, as she has seen many sides of people and many acts of trickery from other to get her to use her powers against the innocent. She always sends those who she finds out away immediately, and will leave an area entirely if someone tries to make her injure another being. Her primarily goal is to help those that need it, and it gives her a great sense of satisfaction when she can.