[sprig]

Username: vintage rose
Show Name: King of Stars
Call Name: Mystic
Gender: Stallion
Discipline: Western Pleasure [Amateur]
Creation: never again

[hiraeth + hound]

this round ends soon!

[Queen Vivane]

Username: Queen Chrysalis
Show Name: Flaws Make Us Work
Call Name: Monarch
Gender: Mare
Discipline: Dressage [Amateur]
Creation: Art

[hiraeth + hound]

round 1 is now closed!

congrats to:
Half Tree
HowlingHooves
SpartanAmethyst
Ms Shine
denja
Hawksky
vintage rose
Queen Chrysalis

you have proceeded to the next round!

only these users may participate in round 2.

ROUND TWO
(round 2 ends november 5th)
Tell me a little bit about the Malik's personality and backstory!
there is not word limit, but try to break up walls of text. prettying up is heavily encouraged!

Going beyond what is required will add to your chances of winning.

please post a new forum post for round 2!

[SpartanAmethyst]

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☾ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☽
ι'∂ ℓιкє тσ мαкє муѕєℓƒ вєℓιєνє
тнαт ρℓαηєт єαятн тυяηѕ ѕℓσωℓу;
ιт'ѕ нαя∂ тσ ѕαу тнαт ι'∂ яαтнєя ѕтαу
αωαкє ωнєη ι'м αѕℓєєρ, вє¢αυѕє му
∂яєαмѕ αяє вυяѕтιηg αт тнє ѕєαмѕ.
☾ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☽
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Username: SpartanAmethyst
Show Name: AMRR Alpha Centauri
Call Name: Variks
Gender: Stallion
Discipline: Hunter-Jumper [Amateur]
Papers and Histories:
Variks was born a lonely colt; slightly premature, as well his mother had been bred a little too early, bringing him into the world well before the spring time. It was a freezing night in January, and a very rare situation at that. The night Variks was born, snow fell in the desert. Now, the man who owned the Malik stables had never been a superstitious man, but even this set him slightly on edge. No one knew whether this sign brought good fortune or ill tidings; somehow, Variks life would prove to be fantastically neutral until he was grown.

As was said, the snow-laden night brought forth a snow-capped foal, his coat as rich and bright as the night sky hidden by the heavy clouds. His mother was on in years, well past the prime of her life, wise and gentle as the breeze that just barely stirred the olive trees in the orchard. She had been bred by accident, when a stallion the owner had purchased covers from had broken out of his stall and leapt into her pasture. Though the owner was not happy at all about losing one of his breedings, he said nothing, and prayed for the best. He knew the mare should not be able to carry, nor should she be allowed to, but breedings to this stallion were so limited and so expensive he could only hope it would work out, or the other two foals would come out well. The pregnancy had gone smoothly, though, as the rest of the mare's had. When Variks was born was when the complications started. He was small, much smaller than he should be considering the height and stature of his sire. He carried the same colors and markings, though, that the owner had so desperately desired from the Twilight stud, minus the large amounts of white hanging off his topline. That came from his dam. The staff and owner rushed to seal the stall, bring in heaters, anything to make sure the young colt wouldn't contract hypothermia. Despite their best efforts, though, he still fell ill, and they resorted to bringing him into the main house. The youngest daughter, a beautiful dark-haired girl with vibrant green and gold eyes, took it upon herself to be his surrogate until the snow passed. She bottle fed him diligently for four days until the weather stabilized, and they were able to reunite him with his mother. Her milk production had already suffered, though, and when the colt fell ill again, they discovered she was not producing enough to feed him and keep his healthy. This time, they kept Variks with her, and once again the daughter, Amani, came to bottle feed and care for him.

As he grew, he imprinted more on Amani than his dam. The old mare was a wonderful mother and caretaker; she tended to the foal like any true mother should, but there was something about the way the human acted towards him that just drew Variks in. When it came time to wean, he made no fight nor fuss, as long as Armani was nearby. Anything she asked him to do, he did, whether he understood why or not. When it came time for training, he would not let anyone on his back except for her, and despite her parent's initial unease, he became her horse and her horse alone. She trained him to take the saddle, the bit, all of his groundwork... Where her father lacked was horsemanship, which Armani seemed to have naturally. Her mother was terrified of horses, so they pinned it to her grandfather, her father's father, who had owned and run the stables before his passing. Armani had inherited his love and passion for horses, and it truly showed with Variks. So much so, in fact, that once he was tall enough to jump the pasture fences, he did. Every time Armani would put him out in the pasture and leave, he would follow; up over the fence and after her. Each and every time, though, he would wait patiently next to her bedroom window (once he figured out which room was hers, of course!), sleep and graze until she came out to retrieve him or the stable hand came to put him in his stall. Eventually they built a small enclosure near to her window where he could stay close to Armani and still be contained.

When it came time to train his to be a competition horse, they had to use an actual trainer; this was something Armani could not do, as she had not yet trained to be a competition rider. Because of tradition, the stable only trained Maliks in the art of dressage. It was the way the grandfather had wanted it, so his son had kept it as so. But no matter how much they trained Variks in his second year, he could not seem to figure out the graceful movements and riding aids the trainer repeatedly taught him. It wasn't that Variks wasn't graceful, oh no, he was true poetry in motion; it was that he would forget his cues, the aids, the motions, then be confused as to why his trainer was getting so frustrated. Finally the trainer gave up and moved onto the next foals, which funnily enough were Varik's half siblings, who were both dressage naturals but lacked the beautiful color from their shared sire. Immediately the father began talking about selling the colt on contract; he'd reserve a certain number of breedings, and Variks would find a stable banner he could compete under. Armani was distraught; she didn't want to lose her stallion, but her father was adamant about getting rid of him. "Bad blood", he called it, as they were a stable that specifically bred the finest dressage horses. What good was it to have a non-dressage horse at a dressage stable? So while her father went to work finding a buyer, so did Armani. She began to train him herself, but this time, as a jumper. She and a few of the stablehands had noticed his ability, and began to work with him in private. Now that he wasn't being trained for dressage, she could openly practice and work with him. She took videos, pictures, times, everything she could, and offered him up for the same price as her father, same conditions, but with one more: she came with him and was his competition rider. It was during this time that Taniks came into the picture, and she of course had to add the Hissan to their little family.

It was three months later when Armani finally got a bite, well before anyone else had shown interest in an "untrained" three year old Malik. She rushed to her father and showed him the offer. It was a stable in America by the name of Amethyst Ridge Ranch, and they housed many different breeds, species, and competed in various styles and types of shows. They'd agreed on the price of the stallion, all of the terms and conditions, and also offered for his breeding stable unlimited covers from the stallion as they saw fit. They were prepared to pay shipping and travel costs for all three individuals as well. The father was not happy, though; he didn't want his daughter to go halfway around the world to a strange place! She had only just turned 18! But after all three had talked about it, she managed to convince them, and began to pack her and her animals' things. They were on their way to a new place, a new start, and a bright journey ahead of them.

xxx

ι ƒєєℓ gℓσяισυѕ, gℓσяισυѕ;

gσт α cнαηcє тσ sтαят αgαιη.

ι ωαs bσяη ƒσя тнιs, bσяη ƒσя тнιs;

ιт's ωнσ ι αm, нσω cσυl∂ ι ƒσrgєт?

ι mα∂є ιт тняσυgн тнє

∂αяkєsт pαят σƒ тнє ηιgнт,

αη∂ ησω ι sєє тнє sυnяιsє.

ησω ι ƒєєℓ gℓσяισυѕ, gℓσяισυѕ;

ι ƒєєℓ gℓσяισυѕ, gℓσяισυѕ...

----------
Run me like a racehorse;
pull me like a ripcord;
Break me down & build me up;
Whatever it takes,
'cause I love the
adrenaline in my veins.
I'll do whatever it takes,
'cause I love how it feels
when I break the chains;
whatever it takes.
Take me to the top,
I'm ready for
whatever it takes,
'cause I love the
adrenaline in my veins.
I'll do what it takes
----------

Personality: Variks is as close to human as a horse can get. His girl imprinted on him at such a young age,
the Malik sees himself more like her, and doesn't always realize he's much larger and much heavier than the young Syrian girl. He loves to cuddle and nuzzle her, almost to the point of suffocation; despite having his mother and girl, he grew up a lonely foal, and that has made him quite clingy to those he does make friends with. Which is pretty much everybody. Fun, amicable, and easy to get along with, Variks presents himself as the life of the party without even realizing it. His positive energy and great personality draw people in, then his unbridled passion for life turns infectious and pulls even the most stoic individuals into the party. When Variks does something, it's never half done; he either goes all in or none at all, and it definitely shows in his competing style. He still acts quite silly though, more like a giant puppy than a huge Malik, and more often than not can be found running laps around the Malik pasture at Amethyst Ridge Ranch, bucking, playing, and causing a little bit of trouble. You know, when he actually stays inside the pasture fence.

Growing up lonely has also taught him how to keep the friends he does make; he's intensely loyal to his friends, to the point where he'll actually take the fall for them if they're in trouble. This has backfired before, many times, and he's been used by other horses as a scapegoat because they know he won't say anything against them. Taniks often tells him that this is his downfall, but it hasn't changed his ways yet. And often times he knows he's being used; Variks is actually extremely intelligent. Scarily smart, in fact. This appeared when he was a yearling and he could break out of any stall or paddock they put him in. On the other side of the blade, though, his intelligence means he gets bored very quickly, and he hated being bored. Usually he'll sleep, but if left unstimulated for long enough, Variks is known to become quite destructive; he cribs, kicks his stall door, neighs and fusses at any passing stablehand, begging to at least be taken out to the pasture to run. Connecting to his intelligence also comes his caution. Variks is unnecessarily (sometimes necessarily) watchful, no matter where he is. He's always on the lookout for danger, even safe in his stall at night. His fear of the unknown borders on paranoia, and it's something he's learning to combat every day.

[HowlingHooves]

Username: HowlingHooves
Show Name: Solas Ama
Call Name: Réaltra
Gender: Stallion
Discipline: Endurance [Amateur]





Upon his creation, before he knew what he was, what he could become, that he was even a being, Solas Ama was as empty as the black void he was born from. He felt but one thing, even with the warmth that the stars offered to him upon his creation; utterly alone. It did not make him fearful or nervous, just left him uninterested in the galaxies all around him. Solas Ama had nothing that pulled at him, tugged at curiosity or made his heart pump faster. It all showed in his eyes, dull and dark and blank as the void before the warmth of the stars created him. And so he fell into a slumber, one that lasted century upon century, until planets began forming. And he did not wake, not even from the gentle urging of the stars and the galaxies when they rembered where he had folded down into himself.


Eons passed before he woke, but when he did there was an energy in him. He knew he was male, he knew he was made of greatness, and an arrogance filled him like a river near overflowing. His youth was with him, a heat in his veins that left him bounding across galaxies, finding planets in their infancy, meeting stars that were new and finding those that were old, those that had been there to witness his creation. He was reckless, he was without care, and he had not the wisdom or experience to learn that actions had consequences. Solas Ama bent the stars to his will, created images in their connections until he grew bored, whipped like a whirlwind through galaxies and caused them to spin and swirl around their centers.

His arrogance led him to creating as he had been created, and he settled different variations upon different planets, within different galaxies and stars to keep an eye while he traverse the expanse. As his arrogance bled out slowly, his newly gifted parenthood left him in awe of the creatures he had made from himself. He watched them all, reveled in the feeling of pride as they grey and evolved and became more than he could grant them. And Solas Ama would visit with them at times, arrogance returning when they would praise him as a god, asked for blessing or guidance, give him offerings of their finest discoveries and creations. Still young, with a fever in his body that had not slowed. But his arrogance eventually became his curse, and as the creatures he created scorned him or grow angry at the sight of the stallion, his range grew until he left nothing but devastation upon the people, upon his creations. And upon a clearing of his mind, he felt only sorrow and self-loathing. His arrogance all but gone, sorrow sweeping over him harshly, Solas Ama could do nothing but sleep to reflect upon what he had done.


Voices called to him, woke him from his slumber and reflections, gave him a name where he had not truly had one before. And he answered the calls with worry in his heart, having learned that arrogance and rage had no place in his mind. He gained knowledge of the centuries during his slumber, grew to be wise and kind, gentle and fair to his creations for what they had become. Solas Ama found kinship with one, however, in the wake of her grief and the loss of her child; he was sympathetic of the woman, and he made the choice of giving her the gift he also had been given, allowing her to traverse the galaxies with him. Each other keeping company until the end of time.

But a mistake long after left Solas Ama without his companion, and forced to face an abomination. He knew the dead could not be brought back, but the woman had tried and now the stallion could only battle the monster to try and save his other creations. They did so for long days, lighting the skies of the galaxies with their blows, at times Solas Ama growing weary until he heard the frightened cries of his charges and he found strength to continue until, finally, the monster was put to rest.


Weary he was after the battle, in all aspects of mind, body and soul. Aching for the woman that had been his companion, regretful that he had not seen what she had been trying to create to stop her mistake. He could do nothing but fall onto the nearest planet, hope he would not harm his charges, too exhausted to do little but fall.

And, when he was able to rise to his feet and pulled himself out of the pit he had created, he was horrified when he could not hear the calls of the stars, when they didn't answer his own calling to them. He leaped and he leaped, growing more frustrated and sorrowful when he could not move from the planet. He raced across the surface, calling in vain for the stars, wanting only to return to them. Denial left him in a frenzy until, unknowing how long since the end of the battle, Solas Ama stopped in the midst of mountain and trees, head low as he regained his breath. The stallion still felt his strength in his body, but it was only but a portion, the powers that were granted to him now gone and leaving him stranded.

Solas Ama was still the immortal, undying stallion of the void. But the void no longer wanted him, and a bitterness grew around his heart. From wise and willing, stranded as he was the stallion was but a bitter, aged soul. But he took to wandering the wilderness of the world he was on, avoiding his creations as best as he could. He could still hear them at times, calling out for him in his mind with questions or pleas, and though he was bitter he offered what he could to them, letting the good deeds alleviate some of his bitterness at times.

But at others, he secluded himself into the trees and rock, his anger getting the better of him for what had happened. He would call to the stars over and over, beg the void to take him back and grant him the power to race across the galaxies again. His heart only grew colder with each unanswered call, and he would return to aiding those he could with less and less warmth.

[ExVenor]

Username: Half Tree
Show Name: A Wyvern's Glittering Heart
Call Name: Sharik
Gender: Stallion
Discipline: Halter [Amateur]
Personality + Backstory:
.....When the colt, dubbed Sharik, is 4 weeks old someone makes the first attempt at stealing him. Of course it doesn’t go well his mother was quick to get upset and her sounds of anger wake the guards. A few weeks after that a second attempt is made, but this time they take his mother along too. The stallion of the herd doesn’t take too kindly to it and charges the riders as they lead mare and foal away. Again the guards are woken by the sound of angry horses. The would-be thieves are caught this time and dealt with accordingly.

.....A third attempt won’t come for a few months and these new thieves are much better than the last. They had waited patiently, driving off other thieves as they came, for the foal to be weaned from his mother. Put into a small pen away from where the older horses were being kept, the calling of mares and foals would make it easier to take one without raising an alarm. They could have stolen others but it would have slowed them down in getting away, plus this one colt had more value than the others combined.

.....They rode black horses with no tack and cloth wrapped around anything that may clink or flash on their person. Two riders had roped and the third a blanket fashioned in dark furs. One of the riders with rope carefully drops from his horse to slip under the rail of the temporary pen. He goes directly to where the distinctive colt is standing in the line of frantic weanlings and wastes no time in slipping a rope over his head. Sharik was a trusting foal and assumed the human was taking him back to his mother so he didn’t fight. His breeder was a man who believed in early desensitization and training so the foal already knew what ropes were by 5 months.

.....The thief led the obliging colt over to the rail closest to his companions, where they had already worked to remove a section of the fence. Once man and horse are through they knock down a few more areas of the fencing. When the foals find the way out they’ll go running back to their mothers and all the chaos will give the midnight thieves the needed advantage in getting away. Satisfied with that done they throw the dark blanket of furs over the vibrant foal before adding another rope around his neck to go to the second horseman. For good measure they add a third rope either end tied to the waist of the riders on either side and loosely hooked behind the legs/butt of the foal. It would help keep him moving during the getaway if he decided to try balking or turning back. The third horseman trails behind them using the little magic he has to blow their tracks away in the sand.

.....After an hour of riding they finally stop satisfied they are far enough away to avoid detection. The poor foal is exhausted having fought them 10 minutes in, realizing his mother’s calls were getting too far for his comfort. When they stop he drops into the sand with a grunt getting a snort from one of the men. They look him over for damage quickly applying cooling salves to the rope burn around his neck and back legs.

.....“The hard part is over, little one.” the one who applied the salve says as he sits next to the tired Sharik. “You’ll be treated like the King you are from now on.”

.....The little foal may not have understood but he could hear the kindness to the voice, so he stretches out on his side resting his head in the man’s lap. The thieves get to work setting up a fire, while their companion rests a comforting hand on the foal’s shoulder. The three black geldings they had ridden eventually make their way over to smell at the odd looking foal, but are soon distracted when their supper is set out.


* * *

.....The three men turned out to be brothers who were establishing a branch from the organization run by a man people called the Dark Lord. This Lord ran the criminal scene secretly throughout most of the kingdom, taking commission from the illegal activities and providing care for those working in his sake. He didn’t approve all forms of criminal activity though and those who breached that were cast from the crew.

.....The brothers had turned out to be skilled enough to rise in the ranks of the dark court and soon found themselves offered a job. No one man has infinite reach and so decided to send them as representatives to set up and run a kind of outpost to the north-west of the Sea of Sand. The law didn’t reach too far into the desert and the people who lived there were tough, the perfect recruits. Stealing a prized foal was their first step in getting attention from local thieves.

.....It has been a little over a year since they stole the young Sharik, and he has grown into a handsome young stallion. Quite the prize indeed, now that he had been raised and trained well they were going to sell him off. They would miss his gentle soul, but too much attention isn’t good and if someone happened to recognize this distinct fellow it would cause more trouble than needed. Hiding a foal is one thing, hiding an almost grown horse another.

.....In the end they need not have worried about getting him to market undetected, someone had taken notice. This someone was a young woman who wanted to prove her skill as a thief, to get away from her unpleasant arranged marriage. She set out to steal the handsome Sharik, with the plans to give him back as proof of her worth once they realized he was gone. Her plan went almost flawless, the young animal following her willingly enough. It was the group of other thieves with the same plan that threw a wrench into the thievery. She stole Sharik from the brothers and these new thieves robbed the stallion from her. They leave her bloodied but alive, making a quick getaway with this apparent trouble magnet of a horse.

.....They sell him at a horse market for a pretty penny, on the edge of the Sea of Sand before taking off back towards their respective homes. Sharik of course looks at this new person with his usual kind eyes and people remark on the gorgeous horse. Once again the stallion draws a lot of attention, many of the eyes following him as he is led away are making plans in their head.

* * *

.....Sharik is now around 2 years of age and being stolen for the 7th time that year. As usual he trusts the people leading him, since he had never been put to harm during any of the times he has switched hands. He is particularly willing to follow along after this female criminal, as she is fairly interesting. She smells different from the other humans he has encountered and offers him lots of treats.

.....He also finds her mare quite interesting, he is mostly around geldings when being stolen. A trick thieves tend to use since geldings get fewer aggressive reactions than a stallion or mare would. Plus a gelding is easier to manage in general for the rider. Trying to steal a mare that happens to be in heat while you’re riding a mature stallion? Both animals will most likely get a bit out of hand. This grey mare is an older gal, and could care less about the young stallion prancing along next to her as long as he doesn’t bother her.

.....The woman rides with him for a few days before coming across what she is looking for. A large caravan snaking along slowly in the distance, they were a group heading to the castle so they should have an eye for horseflesh. She sets both animals into a fast pace that has them catching up with the back of the processing. Instead of approaching anyone she just rides along passing them until an older gentleman calls out to her. With a private smirk to herself she turns to the man from her saddle “Yes?”

.....“That is a fine horse you have with you.” the gentleman says urging his own horse out of the line and over to where she is walking. Sharik ignores them both in favour of staring at the herd of horses in the line of carts, a number of them stare back. “I have an eye for these things, would you sell him? Surely it is dangerous for a lone woman to be going around with such an eye-catching jem?”

.....“I was actually hoping to sell him in the Mara district. The auctions there raise a pretty penny I hear.” she says.

.....“They can yes, but only when the right people are in attendance. The wealthy are all at the palace now trying to get their standing with the new King and the best horse breeders are there as well trying to sell their current crop.” he gestures to the caravan, “Anyone not there already is making their way there now. Sell him to me and you can save yourself the journey.”

.....“If you meet my price I’m sure we can make a deal.” is her response.

.....They stop off to one side of the road to dismount and let the man look over Sharik properly. It takes some haggling but eventually gold switches hands and Sharik is yet again going off with someone new. Only this time things will turn out vastly different for the stallion who is the beacon of trouble.

[Queen Vivane]

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[SpartanAmethyst]

Little nudge ouo

[hiraeth + hound]

congrats spartan! a ru will be going to Howling Hooves <3