[hellenistic]

Welcome to the Euphorian Retired Racehorse Project
Euphorian Thoroughbreds are a rare string of the Thoroughbred breed. They come from a single farm simply called “Euphoria” that has horses with mutated genes. These allow them to be able to possess any realistic coat or markings. Everything else about the sub-type is the same. Long, strong legs, a powerful hind, and great speed. Their eyes are soft and the breed is incredibly smart, if not a bit goofy. They love kids and have the rare ability to excel in any discipline. They can grow from 15hh-18hh, though usually somewhere in the middle.
The horses readopted through the Euphorian Retired Racehorse Project are looking for a new loving home and a new job. They’ve tried racing and have either retired or decided the sport wasn’t for them. Either way, they are ready for the next chapter in their life. Some of these horses will come with a little training already, and will have their new discipline already determined. Although others you’ll get to pick how they move forwards!

Owner: δρεπάνι
Show Name: Silver Lining
Barn Name: Styx
Gender: Stallion
Age: 10 Years
Height: 17.1hh
Eye Color: Cursed Hazel
Phenotype: Silver Smokey Black
Genotype: EE / aa / nCr / nZ
Mane Type: Maneless
Discipline: Cross country
Halter: Silver w/ gold hardware
Breeding Info:
> Dominant Black > Always produces black based foals
Edit List:
> Pinned Ears
> Trimmed Tail

[pipsnseeds]

Username;; d a w n s c a p e
Show Name: Moonlit Waters Ripple
Barn Name: 月明かり Tsukiakari
Gender: Female
Age: 9
Height: 18 hh
Halter: Deep, ocean green (I'm sorry to put a halter across this beautiful face)
Discipline: Endurance
Competition:

Come forward to the song of my moon, sweet love
Feel yourself rise, as now hereof -
you must have the wings of an angel;
a love of sky like all morainal

Push past wild growths, going naught but every place
Vines of evergreening leaves interlace -
Twisting, winding, silhouetting the new dawn
But blocking the past, she is but done

Follow her footprints, tread lightly on ice
Listen to the voices, each and every one precise
Dangers follow us in leaps and bounds
To turn is to be consumed by these hounds

Put aside your meal for today,
the great gods are hungry, and need not delay
Once left at the abandoned nest of another
Chase swiftly at the souther

The winds will keep you on a true path
But, alas, you listen not to those wisdom hath
So to suppose your fate is one of fire
Forever trapped in a cavern of thorns of a briar

Mayhap another - with stronger will-power
will claim your throne, and never cower
away from the glory this here seat holds
talent, riches, silvers and golds!

Outwards my heroes, seek what you must
- but hold true the infinite power of Rust!


Dang, poetry is hard

[SpartanAmethyst]

Username;;
Show Name:
Barn Name:
Gender:
Age:
Height:
Halter:
Discipline:
Competition:

He's a playboy yo

[RhysiesPiecies]

Username;; RhysiesPiecies
Show Name: Man in the Moon
Barn Name: Sage
Gender: Stallion
Age: 8 years
Height: 16.3 hh
Halter: Something magic~
Discipline: Work horse
Competition: cursed for wandering into a witch's garden and eating up all her magic plants

Sage was not the brightest of horses. Kind as he was, he was just a bit of an airhead. Which meant he often followed things more powerful than his brain, like his stomach for instance. One day, while particularly hungry, he’d stumbled upon a lush little garden at the side of a lovely cottage in the midst of the forest. Any other horse would’ve seen the proximity to a home and known the plants were not theirs for the taking, or perhaps the little stone fence would be enough to keep them out. If nothing else, the warning signs on that fence surely would’ve deterred them. But alas, sage was not any other horse. He made quick work of jumping the small fence and saw to filling himself on the carefully cultivated herbs and crops within it. Months of growth and hard work, gone in minutes as though it hadn’t even been there in the first place. Sage then, in a moment of sheer genius, decided the freshly cleared patch of soil was perfect for a post-meal nap, and he made himself right at home.

Now the owner of this garden, luckily enough for Sage, was an exceptionally kind woman. When she returned home to find her garden gone, with a snoozing horse in the middle of it, she would’ve had every right to be furious with him. She could’ve sent him off with all manner of hexes on him, could’ve turned him into a frog or rabbit just for the fun of it, and all sorts of other nasty things. However, being the good witch that she was, decided on a rather benign curse.

When Sage woke a few hours later, well rested and full, he found a woman standing in front of him with a fancy new halter in her hands. She went on to explain that, to repay her for ruining her hard work, he’d be cursed to stay there with her permanently. He would have to work every spring with her to plant the garden, in the summer he would help to keep it maintained, and in the fall he would help with the harvest. Sage, despite being a bit dim, was wise enough to take her up on her generous offer, and was even a bit happy to take on his new ‘curse’.

[dubai.]

Mark!

[DeadlyArcana]

Username;; Alhena
Show Name: He Who Shall Bow
Barn Name: Leviathan
Gender: Stallion
Age: 11 years old
Height: 18.2 hh
Halter: burgundy red with black outline and gold hardware
Discipline: Cross Country

Why was he cursed? Leviathan was cursed by a necklace he had stumbled upon while out in the woods on his own. It was bound to the land that it laid upon, but because he was greedy, he stole the necklace and brought it back to his home where he kept it hung outside his pasture. He was going to give it to his love as a token of appreciation but because it was taken, it released a curse that took away everything he loved.

big wip, just brain storming for now <3

[Restful Dead]

Username;; δρεπάνι
Show Name: Silver Lining
Barn Name: Styx
Gender: Stallion
Age: 10
Height: 17.1hh
Halter: Silver w/ gold hardware
Discipline: Cross country
Competition: Having been born without a mane, Styx was always envious of other "normal" horses that did have manes. He longed to know what it felt like to have the breeze blowing through the long hairs of his mane. He had seen a Friesian or two before, so he liked to imagine that his mane would like that - completely dark, just like the rest of him, with long, wavy locks. Instead, there was nothing. He felt bare. Naked. Exposed.

Ashamed as he was at the lack of a mane, Styx avoided most social interactions with other horses. While the others kept to the open fields, he preferred the outer edges of the forest. Beneath the dark shade of the trees he could effectively keep himself out of view of the others so they wouldn't have to look upon his "ugliness". Despite the fact that they seemed to accept him in spite of his physical abnormality, he was convinced that they were just trying to be nice.

He had been told from a young age that he shouldn't venture too far into the forest, as there lived a witch there that would curse him for trespassing into her domain. On the other hand, the witch supposedly had access to a magic spring that, if you were to drink from it, would grant you any wish. Styx desperately wanted to find this spring, because he knew exactly what he'd wish for. However, the prospect of being cursed was enough to keep him from exploring into dangerous territory. For a little while anyways.

Sometime after reaching adulthood, Styx felt brave enough to try finding the spring. What could the witch really do anyways? He was fast and he was accustomed enough to the forest terrain that he was confident he could make a quick getaway if it came to it. And so, Styx headed deep into the forest.

He seemed to travel for hours and on top of not even knowing where exactly to find the spring, he was beginning to worry that he might not be able to find his way back. Not to mention, there was the danger of the witch discovering him. He pushed these worrying thoughts to the side and continued to press on. He was determined to find that spring.

A little further in, he saw it; or what he thought might be it. Through the darkness of the trees, he thought he could see a faint glow in the distance. Lifting his nose to the air, he could definitely smell water. Strangely enough, the scent seemed to mixed in with various sorts of flowers and herbs - lavender, thyme, ginger, as well as a plethora of other plants he couldn't name, nor cared to name. He was only interested in the water, and he eagerly made his way toward its source.

And there it was. As he approached, he caught his reflection in its crystal clear surface. He allowed himself one last look at his maneless neck. Well, he certainly wouldn't miss it. He lowered his head to drink, but just as his lips were about to make contact with the water, he heard the sound of someone loudly clearing their throat.

Immediately he tossed his head up and turned his head towards the source, ears swiveled forward and eyes scanning his surroundings. He didn't have to look hard. The witch was standing right there, no more than ten feet away from him. His first instinct, naturally, was to bolt, but something seemed to hold him in place. None of his legs would move at all. The witch was holding her hand up and shaking her head. She made a few tsk tsk noises.

"Didn't anyone tell you to stay away from here?" She asked as she approached him. Still, Styx couldn't move. It was as though his legs were permanently rooted to the spot. It had to be the witch's doing.

"Despite the warnings, you chose not to heed them," the witch went on. "That really is a shame..."

Styx was scared. The witch was only a few steps from him and she was reaching out with her hand. She was going to curse him, he just knew it. He closed his eyes and waited for the worst to happen. A gentle hand touched his muzzle. His nostrils were filled with the same scents he had smelled mixed in with the spring water. The smells seemed to calm him, if only slightly.

"You poor thing. You never realized just how handsome you are, did you? Well, maybe this will help you notice a little more."

On the word "this" Styx felt a strange tingling sensation began to travel up from the tip of his muzzle where his skin touched the witch's towards his forehead in what felt like a snake-like pattern. He thought he could also feel that same tingling sensation traveling up partway on his tail.

"There. Now take a look." The witch had pulled her hand away and along with it, the tingling sensation. She was now pointing at the spring, and when Styx looked at his reflection again, he almost forgot that he still didn't have a mane.

Where his face had once been solid, there was now a white marking streaking up his face in an odd, meandering path. He had to admit, he quite enjoyed the way it made him look. But that wasn't all the witch had done. When he swished his tail, he noticed that it was now a silvery white from the bottom to a little more than half way up. He whinnied appreciatively. He really did look handsome.

He turned his attention back to the witch, but she had vanished. He decided not to stick around however, just in case the witch decided to curse him with something else. Something he wouldn't like.

As he grew older, he would always remember the incident with the witch in the forest. And while he sometimes wondered what would have happened had he been able to drink from the spring, he never felt any desire to return to it. Over time, he had come to accept the fact that, despite being maneless, that didn't mean he wasn't handsome and that he couldn't stand out in positive ways. Eventually, he would also come to realize that the witch had never actually cursed him. If anything, he had "cursed" himself by thinking that without a mane, he was inferior in some way, when, of course, that was never the case at all. The witch had helped him see that. In a way, despite having been warned that she would curse him, in actuality, she had been the one to remove his curse.

(Oof, I may have gone a bit overboard ._.)

[certified]

Username;;certified
Show Name: Curse Of The Crows
Barn Name: Aleister
Gender: stallion
Age: 7
Height: 16 hh
Halter: a deep blue
Discipline: barrel racing
Competition: Aleister was named after Aleister Crowley, a man of black magic. However, he was also a poet, painter, and novelist.
Aleister, the Thoroughbred himself, would be cursed for his love of dark poetry, following only slightly in Crowley's steps. It wouldn't just be for poetry. The love for the dark entities who had scribbled their twisted lyrics onto blank pages, making the edges seem just slightly softer. Just a little more hidden below the surface. He liked the way poetry gripped his soul. Like he was meant to uncover it.

[hellenistic]

Username;; δρεπάνι
Show Name: Silver Lining
Barn Name: Styx
Gender: Stallion
Age: 10
Height: 17.1hh
Halter: Silver w/ gold hardware
Discipline: Cross country
Competition: Having been born without a mane, Styx was always envious of other "normal" horses that did have manes. He longed to know what it felt like to have the breeze blowing through the long hairs of his mane. He had seen a Friesian or two before, so he liked to imagine that his mane would like that - completely dark, just like the rest of him, with long, wavy locks. Instead, there was nothing. He felt bare. Naked. Exposed.

Ashamed as he was at the lack of a mane, Styx avoided most social interactions with other horses. While the others kept to the open fields, he preferred the outer edges of the forest. Beneath the dark shade of the trees he could effectively keep himself out of view of the others so they wouldn't have to look upon his "ugliness". Despite the fact that they seemed to accept him in spite of his physical abnormality, he was convinced that they were just trying to be nice.

He had been told from a young age that he shouldn't venture too far into the forest, as there lived a witch there that would curse him for trespassing into her domain. On the other hand, the witch supposedly had access to a magic spring that, if you were to drink from it, would grant you any wish. Styx desperately wanted to find this spring, because he knew exactly what he'd wish for. However, the prospect of being cursed was enough to keep him from exploring into dangerous territory. For a little while anyways.

Sometime after reaching adulthood, Styx felt brave enough to try finding the spring. What could the witch really do anyways? He was fast and he was accustomed enough to the forest terrain that he was confident he could make a quick getaway if it came to it. And so, Styx headed deep into the forest.

He seemed to travel for hours and on top of not even knowing where exactly to find the spring, he was beginning to worry that he might not be able to find his way back. Not to mention, there was the danger of the witch discovering him. He pushed these worrying thoughts to the side and continued to press on. He was determined to find that spring.

A little further in, he saw it; or what he thought might be it. Through the darkness of the trees, he thought he could see a faint glow in the distance. Lifting his nose to the air, he could definitely smell water. Strangely enough, the scent seemed to mixed in with various sorts of flowers and herbs - lavender, thyme, ginger, as well as a plethora of other plants he couldn't name, nor cared to name. He was only interested in the water, and he eagerly made his way toward its source.

And there it was. As he approached, he caught his reflection in its crystal clear surface. He allowed himself one last look at his maneless neck. Well, he certainly wouldn't miss it. He lowered his head to drink, but just as his lips were about to make contact with the water, he heard the sound of someone loudly clearing their throat.

Immediately he tossed his head up and turned his head towards the source, ears swiveled forward and eyes scanning his surroundings. He didn't have to look hard. The witch was standing right there, no more than ten feet away from him. His first instinct, naturally, was to bolt, but something seemed to hold him in place. None of his legs would move at all. The witch was holding her hand up and shaking her head. She made a few tsk tsk noises.

"Didn't anyone tell you to stay away from here?" She asked as she approached him. Still, Styx couldn't move. It was as though his legs were permanently rooted to the spot. It had to be the witch's doing.

"Despite the warnings, you chose not to heed them," the witch went on. "That really is a shame..."

Styx was scared. The witch was only a few steps from him and she was reaching out with her hand. She was going to curse him, he just knew it. He closed his eyes and waited for the worst to happen. A gentle hand touched his muzzle. His nostrils were filled with the same scents he had smelled mixed in with the spring water. The smells seemed to calm him, if only slightly.

"You poor thing. You never realized just how handsome you are, did you? Well, maybe this will help you notice a little more."

On the word "this" Styx felt a strange tingling sensation began to travel up from the tip of his muzzle where his skin touched the witch's towards his forehead in what felt like a snake-like pattern. He thought he could also feel that same tingling sensation traveling up partway on his tail.

"There. Now take a look." The witch had pulled her hand away and along with it, the tingling sensation. She was now pointing at the spring, and when Styx looked at his reflection again, he almost forgot that he still didn't have a mane.

Where his face had once been solid, there was now a white marking streaking up his face in an odd, meandering path. He had to admit, he quite enjoyed the way it made him look. But that wasn't all the witch had done. When he swished his tail, he noticed that it was now a silvery white from the bottom to a little more than half way up. He whinnied appreciatively. He really did look handsome.

He turned his attention back to the witch, but she had vanished. He decided not to stick around however, just in case the witch decided to curse him with something else. Something he wouldn't like.

As he grew older, he would always remember the incident with the witch in the forest. And while he sometimes wondered what would have happened had he been able to drink from the spring, he never felt any desire to return to it. Over time, he had come to accept the fact that, despite being maneless, that didn't mean he wasn't handsome and that he couldn't stand out in positive ways. Eventually, he would also come to realize that the witch had never actually cursed him. If anything, he had "cursed" himself by thinking that without a mane, he was inferior in some way, when, of course, that was never the case at all. The witch had helped him see that. In a way, despite having been warned that she would curse him, in actuality, she had been the one to remove his curse.

(Oof, I may have gone a bit overboard ._.)

congrats ♥

[Restful Dead]

Oh yay, thank youuuuu! I love him <3