Fimbulvetr

Radames

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Andante & Iracebeth

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Ezra

Ezra the Dirt
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  • OOC Name: Kiwi
  • Posts: 1 (Find All Posts)
  • Rank: Nonpartisan
  • Age & Season: 5 (Spring ✿)
  • Species Equine
  • Lineage: Settler
  • Height: 17hh
  • Sex: Stallion
  • Mate: None
  • Crystals:
  • Tag: @[Ezra]

Introduction



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OOC & Character(s)

Appearance




Ezra was once beautiful, perhaps even the most beautiful of the gods in the Garden of Light. His coat was like polished pearls, snow white and glimmering. Extending from his shoulder were three sets of wings. Each one with long fluffy feathers like that of an angel on Earth. Hovering above his head was a golden circlet that always had the appearance that it was freshly polished. It had an intricate pattern of smaller arcs between the long sections. The softest of green eyes were vibrant in contrast against his pale coat. Ezra's build was narrow and angular, long lines that perhaps would have seemed almost gangly if not for the elegant way he carried himself. His eyes held such purity and such virtue.

Until they didn't.

When the shadow of vanity began to cast it's shadow across Ezra's face he was punished. Forever stained by dirt he would never be beautiful again. His beautiful white pelt was marred by mud and dirt. Awful streaks and smudges spread out across his body with the darkest concentration along his neck. His tail, once like spun silk now yellowed. His legs and face, while still white, were not entirely untouched now sporting a slightly dirty overlay. The pink of his muzzle is now dulled. Even his wings were not safe, as feathers were plucked and bent giving them a malformed appearance. The circlet that once brought him such joy now resides around his neck, long spines painfully inserted into the tender flesh of his neck. Blood continuously drips from the wounds, every movement bringing him pain. The only thing that remained of Ezra the Pure was his pale green eyes and the elegant way he moved. He was now Ezra the Dirt.

Personality

Ezra is a mere shell of what he used to be. There was a time when he was happy as if nothing could dull his spirit. He was eager and had a natural curiosity about him. His desire to be among mortals and hear their stories lead him down a path of vanity and self destruction. He became the opposite of everything he was supposed to be and was punished. He had dirtied himself, and so he was dirtied on the outside.

There is a sadness that always lingers, the threat of tears pricking in the heat behind his eyes. He loathes himself and what he has become. He is a poet without a pen-- something is missing, though he does not or cannot comprehend what it is. Ezra has become shy and withdrawn, preferring to linger on the outskirts and not come too close to others. However he is lonely and while the desire for companionship is there, his intense hatred of his appearance and muddled soul win out.

There is no beauty left in his tainted heart and the dirt courses through his veins just as it stains his hair. Every day brings him pain and anguish. The demigod still does not fully understand the world of mortals, which only makes him even more hesitant to approach. He fears their judgement and their stares-- something that not so long ago he lived for. He no longer lives, he merely exists.

History

Deep in a distant land, lays the Garden of Light. A beautiful expanse of meadows, ruins, waterfalls, and forests. A place where the gods of that realm reside. Ezra was crafted from a piece of silk by the morning light. An egg of pure white feathers that unfurled to expose the small boy inside. He was white as snow with the softest pink around his nostrils and lips. His eyes of pale green sparkled in the light. And hovering just above his delicate head was a glistening golden circlet. Even as a child he was innocence incarnated in tangible form. He was so dubbed, Ezra the Pure. The god of chastity, virgins, and pureness. As a lesser god, he grew quickly maturing at a mere one year of age.

The gods were free to come and go from the garden into the land of the mortals. Ezra took many trips into their world. Always dressed in modest silks with his three sets of wings held behind him. Often the light filtered down, creating an ethereal glow upon him as it shined through his pale feathers. He was fascinated by the mortals. They had so much life and love to share. He would spends entire days surrounded by them, appreciating their kind words and listening to their tales.

Naturally, he was often fancied by some of the mortals due to his kindness and desire to be among them. Most of the gods stayed hidden away in the garden, but Ezra was different. He loved the mortals. He loved them because they loved him. And in time, Ezra became vain. He was no longer the pure soul he once was. He thrived on their attention, their stares, and adoration. He returned to the garden only long enough to brag about his fortune out there with them.

The older gods were displeased with Ezra. He was no longer the personification of innocence and purity. He had become conceited and full of himself. They held a meeting and decided he was no longer deserving of his title. He was taken to the altar and placed in chains for his judgement. The goddess of the garden's essence enveloped him and his circlet moved to encircle his neck.. Slowly the barbs extended, forcing themselves into his flesh. He screamed in agony as the prison trapped him. He was stripped of his godhood and immortality.

Though it was deemed to not be enough. Before he was cast from the garden forever and placed in the world of mortals, his beautiful pure coat was marred. The wind picked up, and dirt and mud swirled around him. It pelted his pristine coat, bruising him and staining him brown. No matter how much he rubbed and washed, it would never come back. And then he was thrown through a portal to a world he didn't know or understand.

None

Dormant

Additional

Credits

design and reference by vivaliis
introduction image by disgusted-noise
pixel by disgusted-noise
avatar by disgusted-noise