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Scorpio

Scorpio Enavi Discordius
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  • OOC Name: CasDean
  • Posts: 0 (Find All Posts)
  • Rank: Nonpartisan
  • Age & Season: 6 (Autumn ☁)
  • Species Equine
  • Lineage: Settler
  • Height: 20hh
  • Sex: Stallion
  • Mate: N/A
  • Crystals: 0
  • Tag: @[Scorpio]

Introduction

"B-B-B-Be careful making wishes in the dark, dark
Can't be sure when they've hit their mark
And besides in the mean, mean time
I'm just dreaming of tearing you apart"

-||-


Scorpio Enavi Discordius
stallion | bisexual | fighter | neutral evil

Eris Discordia(dam)---Renegade(sire)
|
Scorpio Enavi Discordius
+offspring-- Eligius (dam: Aquilon)


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OOC & Character(s)

Appearance


"I'm in the de-details with the devil
So now the world can never get me on my
level
I just got to get you out of the cage
I'm a young lovers rage
Gonna need a spark to ignite"


-||-

The devil had once portrayed the best of each parent- a testament to the genes of the progen, and their sinister son. But, though perhaps even more intimidating than he once had been, Scorpio has changed.

His pelt, which at the time of his birth had been the same color as his dam's, has darkened into a deep slate, closing in on black. Swirling faintly over his massive body are gentle wisps of crimson, hardly visible unless one catches their opaque sheen in the bright sun. The soft fur around his face is clean white, forming a demonic marking close to that of a bare skull, with jagged teeth and dark pits around his eyes. The gaze of these orbs had once been warm honey brown- as if shining with hope for his young soul- but in his adulthood, the irises have shifted to the horrifying shade of fresh blood, with the shimmering quality of garnet.

His mane reaches just past his chest, graceful and mysterious, as his beautiful forelock often falls over his eyes. The tail is long, just brushing his ankles; both are deep, inky black in tone, with a smooth, rippling texture like that of fresh silk. Scorpio takes pride in these, and will more often than not allow them to become charmingly disheveled- just another gorgeous lure on a dangerously seductive stallion. His build is huge and corded with thick muscle, clearly built for strength rather than speed. He is quite tall, supported by hulking columns of legs. Despite this grandeur, he is not too stocky, but rather a keen balance- much like a clydesdale.

Protruding from between his devilish eyes is a wickedly sharp horn, followed by another smaller one about an inch or so below the first. They are glossy and shining as polished glass or opal, nearly opaque where they have been sharpened to a deadly edge at their fronts. Both take on the mesmerizing color of the highest quality rubies. Their points aim backwards, though their stems out straight up. Each backward edge is serrated, similar to that of a hunting knife. His mouth, cushioned by velvet lips and a flirtatious tongue, is furnished with sharp fangs that out so long and sharp as to stick out. This gives him a hellish appearance that in no way takes from his suave demeanor. He is a handsome blend of terrifying qualities, each working in tandem to give the alluring predator an advantage- both on the battlefield and in the seduction (and control) of beautiful individuals.

Lately, the brute has taken to painting himself in crimson paint- though whether it is blood or some other substance is difficult to say. These markings are of war and death, long slashes and crude runes. They decorate his face, his neck, and shoulders. His scent has taken on that of roses and iron- a testament to his homeland in the iron valley- with hints of cinnamon on a good breeze. His voice has deepened into a low, rumbling baritone that always seems to be leasurely and controlled, charming and made to pull you in. When he quiets, a pleasing rasp curls the ends of his words

Personality


"The writers keep writing what they write
Somewhere another pretty vein just dies
I've got the scars from tomorrow and I wish you could see
That you're the antidote to everything except for me"


-||-

Much like his father, Scorpio holds a belief of superiority above many. Contrary to his father's methods, however, he possesses a smooth, sensual attitude, which he uses to lure you in, rather than force you to bend to his will. He seems all honey and velvet, ready to seduce and conquer. Only when he has you eating at his feet will his true nature reveal itself. Though, even when his words are soft and sweet, he can never truly hide his inner malice. Every gesture, every word seems to ooze with the slow, predatory calculation of a snake, whispering sins into the ears of the innocent.

They say that the silk robes always hide the dagger, and in this case, the expression could not be more true. Perhaps worse than his horrid father, this stallion is a temple of violence. He welcomes the thrill of the fight, the haze of bloodlust. He aches for action and power, longs to rip into all those who are weaker and tear them down until they bow before him- or until he can taste the last beats of their hearts. Cowardice and fear are like drugs to his monster's mind, urging him to ruin all those too pathetic to stand in the face of wrath. Because of this, he has a grand respect for strength, and any individual who shows courage and foritude is vastly more attractive than one who does not; however, fear would not stop him from claiming something He truly desires. He is an omnivore, though he prefers the lovely taste of meat and flesh on his tongue.

Control is a concept with which he has a love-hate relationship. He has been fighting down his beastly urges of violence and destruction for years, but there are countless times when even this suave master may slip his leash. He tries not to harm those he claims as his own- whom, to him, are as valuable as diamonds- but too much resistance can send him into a spiral. Even his love of a fiery spirit has its limits, as this is a gargantuan beast who loves to control. Highly possessive of his property, including his mates, he will rain fury on those who seek what belongs to him. He will guard his harem with his life- for that is the nature of a creature such as he.

History


"A constellation of tears on your lashes
Burn everything you love
Then burn the ashes
In the end everything collides
My childhood spat back out the monster that you see"


-||-

"I never wanted this. You."

The rain clung to his mother's lashes and dripped from the ends of her hair, glistening points half ashine from the overhead moon, waned and broken. Broken like the way she stood, hunched and low, the pride once in her bearing now crumbled to rubble. Broken, as it always had been, between the two of them.

Her words barely hurt- no great agony clamped his gut- and he told himself that his breath hitched from the cold. The cold, and nothing more. She has no hold on me.

Who knew a lie could taste so foul?

She stared with the gaze of one who had seen the end and turned away; guilty, helpless.

Lost.

He felt no pity for the pathetic creature in front of him. As the rain scythed in sheets to the mud and bracken that splashed their pelts, he told himself it did not matter how starved she looked, how the scabs on her flesh had barely healed. How the scent of illness hung thick around her like a cloud, as if not even this unholy deluge could wash it away. How gaunt, how exhausted, how shattered- was of no consequence to him.

Her voice was a pale imitation of the arrogant bitch of her youth, when the world lay at her cloven hooves ripe for the eating- as she stared, stared, stared... Right into him.

"I would have died before letting him turn you like this. Filling your mind with poison-"
she spat the word, foam bubbling around her yellowed fangs. The downpour scrubbed it away as quickly as it came. "I would have died before you were ever born. I would have saved us both from this... This hell. I wish I had! I wish I'd-"

She broke away, coughing into the blackness, her breaths loud and labored. Scorpio felt his lips curl over his portruding teeth- so much like her own- needing action, needing to throw himself at her and break his hooves over her skull, grind her into the dirt, or pull her to his chest and weep. He snorted in disgust; whether for himself or for her, it was unclear. He could feel his rage building just beneath the surface, a constant tug that he usually gave into. Why did he hold himself back now? Why couldn't he just put her out of her fucking misery and rid them both of this hate?

But he couldnt. For fuck's sakes, he couldn't.

"If I could have stopped what he turned you into, what you are-"
She choked the words out, trembling with cold and pain and sorrow and rage leftover from her younger years that today had nowhere to go.

"What I am?"
His fury was spilling over, a dam stopped up for too many years and buried under the detritus of an entire lifetime, smiles and seduction and murder and all the horrible things he had ever done. He had felt her betrayal since his birth like a physical thing, and he hid it away so deep not even he could notcie how it cut. Beneath the lie that he enjoyed his own monstrous nature was a far uglier truth. And in two half-heartbeats it was ablaze, ignited by her words as much as her presence.

"What I am?"
His voice was rough, louder ths time and full of some deeper meaning that both of them could feel in their guts like broken glass.

"I am what you made me!"
He roared, massive height towering over the tiny woman like goliath over his conquest; his entire body was stiff as a board, eyes wide and closer to insanity than he had ever been.
"I am the product of your weakness! You failed me, and now we all pay the ultimate price!"

She flinched away, and he felt a moment's burn of satisfaction at the fear he saw in her, the way the terror seemed trained into her, the way she ducked out from his steps the same way she had eventually come to cower before his sire. He saw in his mind's eye this same scene from another perspective, standing at the sidelines in confusion as his father viciously dominated she who had nursed him, she whom he called mother.

As if unable to help himself, he scrambled back, lips curling around his fangs as he struggled to reign in the bloodlust that his father had nurtured in him from his very birth. Instincts warred, and above them the thunder crashed like sparring gods and the lightning crackled across the horrified shine in her eyes and he felt sickness crawling up his throat, thick and heavy and burning.

And for the first time in his life, pricks of heat started in the corners of his eyes. They stung with unfamiliar tears- for the first time, Scorpio was crying.

He shook his head, hard, temples pounding and body aching with cold and damp as the rain poured on. He slammed his hooves into the mud, sloshing it past his knees, the jolt bringing his rage to bear and dashing the pitiful moment of weakness from his gaze.

No more.

I will not lose myself.

"Do not seek to reconcile with me- your womb whelped me, your lifeblood made me, your milk kept me alive. Nothing more. From the day you let yourself give up- that is when you lost your son, mother." he hissed that word, the taste of it on his lips like hellfire. "If I hear my name on your tongue ever again, I will rip it out myself."

His expression shut down in seconds, his teeth bared and his eyes as cold as flint knives, deadly and unfeeling. And as he turned, the water sloughing off his back in rivulets, his mother's sickly frame now behind him, her voice rose thin and full of regret, a haunted echo of a shared history niether wanted to remember- but both could never forget.

"You are not your father, Scorpio."

He stiffened, stopped in his tracks.

I will not look back.

He remained still as stone, and just as unwavering.

"No, mother. I am not."
he murmured, his voice shifting to that which was soft, husky, seductive. A promise of danger and ruin so strong, he could feel her abhorrence, though he did not see it. She knew that voice, just as she had known his blunt edged father's guileless violence.

At least Renegade had been an honest monster.

"I am much, much worse."

And though it was said with a predatory snarl, his black and shriveled heart gave one single, solitary pang.

Only the watchful moon was their witness as he walked away, inky pelt vanishing into the sleet and blackness like he was born to it. And no one, man or beast, saw the tears that streaked from their eyes, until not even the raindrops could tell themselves apart.

Dormant

Additional

Credits

Everything by ME (teamsalvatore122 on DA)