>>Sinn<< The angel from my nightmares

[iz the great and powerful]

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[bg=#333333] Cursed With The Name Of; Sinnamon Called As; Sinnamon (Or Sinn by those who despise her) Has Been Breaking Havoc For; Seven Winters Gender; Femminique Standing At; Fourteen hands with only a mere two inches to spare Blood; Arabian Of The Alliance Of; Light Mirroring Image- Palates; A creamy yellow shading, with the outside wall of each hoof being that of a darkened charcoal. All four have been baked only half-asked, it seems, for the chipped circumferences never tread upon hardy terrain for fear of the heinous stabs of pain would mercilessly return Ocular Implants; Averaging upon the determined decision of large and well-rasped to rounded pools, her oculars reach the very limits of the blackest, most ominous ink painting imaginable Tassels; Anchoring deeply inside well-circulated roots, the fea's tassels reach a jagged length that brushes ever so gently only inches from the point of her healthily pulsating jugular. The well-matched filaments are sun-baked to a gleaming perfection of reddened chestnut that seem straightened in fair comparison with that of a pin. Its mass being trapped inside the slot of wispy and thin, the entire complimentary feature is often tossed brutally by the cold hands of each passing turbulent Tuft; Its likeness to her tassels matching regarding the coloration, substance, and mass of the lengthened forest, the point of its spear reaches no longer than her sphere implants, which often seem to irritate the soul to the dangerous edge of insanity Whipcord; The very weapon of which the demoness utilizes as a Diptera terminator, again, matches both her tuft and tassels regarding the three features already stated above. The wispy, and often tangled, forest of fire reaches the very middle of her rear, slender cannon bones Pelt Shading; Bestowed with the charming array of a copper chestnut cape, the femmora displays pure elegance once a single shaft of illumination catches her bulk within its warming cell Facial Markings; A wide "diamond"-like snowy patch placed upon her forehead immediately runs down the cascading dish of her nasal cavity, thinning with each transition, and finally, thins to the point of seeming breakage as it takes an abrupt left turn to bank upon the gray of her left nostril, before courageously continuing to form yet another crooked pink, mis-shaped "diamond" upon the left siding of her upper lip Pillar Markings; Displaying possible sabino genes held permanently within, Sinn's rear pistons possess matching ivory socks that end inches from her hock joints. Her near fore limb appears as though it has been dipped, to the point of reaching above her knee joint, in the pestering white paint, while her off fore only possesses a starving smear upon her ankle Other Markings; A deep, graying scar that strays across the entire underside of her barrel given a deeply hideous birth by an almost fatal accident which involved her accidentally tearing her entire tract so that it was exposed for quite an elongated period of time Inner Soul; Often at most times conflicted, overly debatable, and suffering inside the permanent abyss of anxiety, Sinn possesses much greater chances of surviving within solitude than traveling beside another. Due to her traumatizing historic past, her mother had it ingrained inside the young filly's mind that each stag, the complete opposite from their own kind, consisted of nothing than an eternally starving bulk of wasteful flesh. She received many horrific tales of those same brutes violently over taking femmoras, and even some mercilessly claiming their very souls. Thus, Sinn sprouted as a disrespectful mongrel towards her sire, opposing colts, and even the elderly stags. She takes kindly to another femma's presence, but will only tolerate that of a demon for only minutes at a time before she has, once again, disappeared. She often becomes delusional, thinking that another is chasing her, and would rather spend many hours debating upon which turn to execute, and which particular terrain piece to inhabit other than to create the wrong decision. She can sometimes been observed trading lyrics with her own mind's eye, as though her single being had split into two completely opposite souls Historic Past; "Your pitiful actions fail me yet again, love." The painful statement becoming recognized by the weakened bay lying uselessly at the impressive stallion's pillars. If he had chosen to do so, he could have ended her mere survival at that very moment with a thrashing stab to the femmora's well-crafted skull. His ocules drifted slowly to finally settle upon the glossy runt of a filly, who had entered the planet in an absurd fashion. Her oddly-marked stilts swaying, while at the same time, begging gravity to allow her small self to rise underneath her sire's torching stare. Her entire copper bodice shook and trembled with each breath of ice the winds dared to exhale upon her silken being. Finally, she collapsed, allowed her pools to close themselves wearily, and became nothing more than a transformed figure that lied motionless inside the tall emerald forest upon which her dam had chosen as her current birthing piece. The unnamed mare cringed noticeably, as though her young filly's useless attempts would cost her her very soul. Again, the notorious rogue spoke. "You keep producing fillies, when the very thing I need is a proud colt to continue my reign," he huffed angrily, as though it were his maiden's burden to carry. "And again you don't take my advice and use it wisely. Have you ever set eyes upon such a puny foal? You didn't consume enough milk weed. Must I allow this mistake of a rotten creation to continue? Posing as one that possesses my very title above her head???" Although his wrath and words continued, lashing upon the weakened fae like another million stones to bruise her, she acknowledged her fate, and merely rested her crown upon the carpeted soil below her. From that point on, Sinn sprouted slowly underneath her mother's caring training and advice, while she endured her father's curses and abusing ways of his own methods he called "training". The fae began heinously transforming at the ripe age of three eras, and finally, carried herself within the opposite direction following her mother's brutal death caused by her elderly sire. She has only recognized the scorching sensation of pure, unfiltered hatred for the wretched brutes. She will often carry her advice and attempt to plant it inside another listening fea, begging them to wisely avoid such a foolish mistake that her corpse of a mother had blindly executed Weaknesses/Flaws; Due to her accident regarding her now sensitive barrel, she may only consume tender pieces of browsing and grazing vegetation; otherwise, she becomes over loaded with painful pains and throbs that continue their pestering for full candles at a time. Even liquid she must treasure carefully, and cannot become greedy with its molecules. She possesses the rather thin calcium deposits of her true Arabian blood, and thus, could not hope to triumph very many challenges against another. As stated above, her palates have suffered many damages over the eras, taxed with the fact that her cushioning titles itself as rather thin. She cannot travel across hardy terrain without being compelled to endure such pain that often drives her onto the brink of pure insanity Theme Song; I'm Not Okay - My Chemical Romance Font; Courier New Font Color; f0fdff BG Color; #333333

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Muse: ...
Word Count: 1184
OOC: I WUMBO! xP
Music: Mama by My Chemical Romance

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[Vel]

A C C E P T E D

Please post her information in the Character List when you get a chance