Ciro

[Maylea]

• Name: Ciro
  
• Age: 8 years old
  
• Breed (s): mutt (mustang, thoroughbred, rocky mountain horse, arabian, saddlebred, and others)
  
• Height: 16.3 hhs
  
• Coat Color: Flaxen Chocolate
  
• Eye Color: green
  
• Markings: snip
  
• Genetics: Ee/aa/ZZ
  
  
• Alignment: Dark | Neutral | Light
  
  
• Personality:

  He's a good time cowboy casanova, leaning up against the record machine, looks like a cool drink of water, but he's candy coated misery. he's the devil in disguise, a snake with blue eyes, and he only comes out at night. gives you don't want to fight, better run for your life. Hear this warning, and take it and run with it. Because, Ciro here, he's the worst kind of casanova. He loves to please females, whether it is with remarks, sweet gestures, tender touches, or something much more . . . sexual. But there's always one thing to know, he knows just how to keep a mare coming back for more. He was raised with the idea that mares want to be loved, want to be treasured, but to never fall in love with one, because they'll take it and run with it. But from his parent's secret love, Ciro found himself wanting something like that as he grew up. He was already surrounded by females, but . . . he didn't feel that love. Ciro is odd in the fact he doesn't have much in the fear category. He wrestles cougars, jumps from waterfalls, he's a thrill seeker. But there is one name he quivers at, one person he'll bow to and shiver. One individual he tries to keep happy. His mother. Ciro has a lot of loves, he likes being around mares, loves the sound of storms, loves thrills, and isn't afraid to get down and dirty to get such thrills. He loves the feeling of being able to see all in the world, and it's one of the things that brings him to the top of waterfalls (that and jumping from them). He's never happy unless he's got something around him to brighten his day, and as he'll tell many mares, 'Only a creature as beautiful as you can shame the stars into hiding.' He's a casanova, and he lets the mares around him notice it and surround themselves with his sweet words. Ciro has one thing he hates above anything else, and it's the way that despite having everything, many mares, a easy life style, he still graves one thing. He craves a family, a true love, and he hates that. He'd rather be happy as he is, because he knows love cannot be trusted, yet he still craves it. Ciro's biggest desire is to become a stallion both of his parents can be proud of. They both had very different ideas of what makes a good stallion, and he only wishes to be able to make sure that he can live up to both of their expectations. Ciro's strength comes from his personality. He knows how to charm, and can charm any mare into anything. He's also very sneaky, and doesn't mind having some fun. He's a thrill seeker, and rarely feels fear from anything, along with that, he's been trained to be immune to many varying degrees of pain. Ciro is a stallion who is reckless, he feels little pain and lives for thrills, and it leads him into dangerous situations. He likes to prove he's something wild and free, so he tends to get in trouble with this.

  
  
  
• History:

  Ciro comes from two very different individuals. His mother was a realist who believed in love, in happiness, all of that. His father was a casanova who had taken Chaste on as a lover when he saw her and immediately wanted her. His mother had foolishly fallen in love with him, and after finding she was pregnant she went to Ignazio for help, only to have him deny the child as his and send her away. However the distance only ended up hurting both of them. As Ciro grew in the first few months, his parents met occassionally and it only ended in severe fights that usually left his weaker mother as the one bleeding on the ground, until one day, before blows could be dealt, in the middle of a yelling match, his mother had screamed how much she hated Ignazio, and hated that she still loved him anyways. The moment the words had left her mouth both of them froze, before she had spun around and ran from him and the truth she'd unwillingly given. Ignazio had followed and after some soothing words, some admitted feelings of love on his part, and the rekindling of their relationship, Ciro met his father, he and his mother joined his father's herd, and he began to feel at home.
  
  Through the years he has had his parents teaching him two different ways, his mother working on making him a perfect gentleman, his father training him in casanova ways. However, when he started to feel some emotions for 'Princess' as he called the young egyptian filly, he was kept closer to home, where his father could keep him from being turned into a hopeless romantic. Hardening his heart to the idea of love, Ciro has ended up at odds with his own desire, and when he was four he took off to finally find a way to sort out all of the confusion. He wandered for a while, hooking up with mares he met, usually leaving them the next day, and choosing not to care as he focused on the odd empty feeling in his chest when he looked upon obvious families, horses in love, the children they shared. Now six, he's sworn away from the idea of love, refusing to let himself be conned into something so dangerous and is proud of being a casanova.
  
  Or so it was until he met Res. Only then had he experienced something that he'd never felt before. A desire to protect, to hold close. To take care of. He stayed with her then, stayed to protect her, keep her safe, take care of her. They were together for a year before trouble hit, a powerful storm hit and they were thrown into two separate directions. After a year of searching, the now 8 year old stallion has found himself starting to become a whole new creature, one that he never thought he could be.

  
  
  
• How did you find us?: Umm, I was here before
  
• Recruiter: n/a
  
  
• Role-play Sample:
  
  

  He hid an amused smile as the way she watched him so suspiciously, before her body relaxed when all he did was tug a strand of her mane, “Don’t look so tense, dear. I already said I wouldn’t hurt you. I assure, my dear, I rarely tell a lie, and I definitely don’t like about that sort of thing.” He nudged her shoulder gently, before adding, “My mother raised me to be terrified of the idea of hurting a mare. Well, actually, she made me terrified of being anything but a proper gentleman.” He said with a faint laugh. Then he commented about her, and watched her drop her head and close her eyes, and he felt his heart clench at the sight, his ears dipping back slightly in sadness at her word. He paused for a moment, before he gently traced one of the odd markings on her back, “Actually, I though they were fascinating. Intriguingly beautiful, with enough rarity to make them not only pleasing to the eye, but something one wouldn’t mind staring at in dazzled amazement.” He let his muzzle linger before he lifted it up, gently touching his muzzle against her cheek, “But, my sweet, I was referring to something other then physical beauty. Mother taught me true beauty comes with in, from,” He lowered his muzzle, touching her chest lightly, “here, from the heart. Anyone can look beautiful in design, but true beauty isn’t something seen, it’s something expressed.” And she had that true beauty, he was certain of it. He’d seen it in his mother; saw the faintest hint of it in this mare, though it was disguised in the fear, the sheltered expressions. Everything. True beauty, it wasn’t something you could toss around and show of, no . . . it was something that was meant to be admired unwittingly, meant to be blossomed into a truly generous, individual, a personality you want to be around, an individual that makes you want to be a better person . . . a . . . he stopped, looking thoughtful suddenly. Was that what it was that made him so content to be near her. The way she behaved, the way she forced him to see more then the pretty markings, the unique oddity of her one eared head. She was so sheltered, so fearful, and it had awakened the need every stallion had, a need long dormant with in his own body. The need to protect. She was definitely the type of mare who didn’t just look like she needed to be protected she was the real deal. Jumping at everything, looking so wide-eyed and unfamiliar. She looked like someone who needed a hero. A hero . . . but that wasn’t him, that wasn’t Ciro. He was the villain, the stallion that swept in, swept the mare off her feet, taking her for a ride for the night, and then leaving while she slept their games off. How many lives had he destroyed . . . how many lives had he created? No, he shouldn’t be feeling these needs to protect someone . . . he was no hero. He was Ciro, the womanizer, the Casanova, the villain.
  
  She could do so much better then him.
  
  Her attention returned to him, and she gave a tiny smile, her voice meek as she admitted to liking Res, and he couldn’t help but smile in return at the way the name made her eyes sparkle, “Well, in that case, my darling Res, the name will have to stay, alright?” He paused, before grinning and adding, “Besides it’s rather fitting. It’s a name that doesn’t prelude to the full name it was derived from, just as your meekness does not prelude to the true beauty you have the potential to blossom into, my sweet. You’re much like a little flower, struggling to survive among the winter chill. But, dear, sweet Res . . . if you could just relax, and let yourself enjoy the world around you, you’d realize the winter chill is gone, and the potential to out bloom all the others is there, with in your grasp. You just have to do it.” Okay, so here he was again, hating himself as a hint of the Casanova swept through, his gaze kind, his words honest, but that gentle undertone was far from the normal one he used. Sure he complimented her like he would if he were trying to woe a mare into his meadow for the night, but this time he’d done it for a different reason. Because he wanted her to truly bloom. She was that lost flower, so afraid of dying in the winter to not even notice the sun was shining and the snow was melting away. Spring was here, and it was her time to bloom, but fear kept her back, fear held her captive, and he longed to break her chains. Just once be the hero, and set the maiden free. He laughed softly at her whispered comment; how reacting to everything was so stupid . . . she seemed to have an issue with that word, with ‘stupid.’ How odd it was that he didn’t see it as stupid. He saw it as endearing, adorable . . . innocent. “Tell, me beauty. Who was it that has fed such lies to you? Let’s get one thing straight, dearest Res. Nothing about you look stupid, nothing you do is stupid. Here’s the truth, sweet one, even missing an ear you’re as lovely as the rarest butterfly in mid afternoon, as elegant and gentle as swan. There is nothing odd, nothing stupid. It’s who you are, it’s what makes you, you. You’re beautiful in your own way. My mother used to call herself plain, that there were thousands of chestnuts in the world, and she was just another statistic in the equation. Do you know what my father told her when she said that? He told her that no chestnut shined as bright, and full of life as my mother. No mare held a candle to the flaming beauty of her red hide. That nothing about her was plain and ordinary. The truth goes to you, sweet Res. Nothing about you is odd, only endearing in an unfamiliar way. Nothing about you is stupid, merely exotic in a dazzling way. Jumping, and reacting to everything might seem foolish, but dear, there are plenty of others who do the same. It’s not stupid; it’s natural.
  
  “Everyone has their own quirks, dear, and they are just that; quirks.
  
  “You jump and immediately turn to investigate every little sound, jumping out of the way at the same time. My quirk? I can’t touch eyes to a waterfall, with out immediately racing to the top and jumping off. If anyone’s the stupid one, it’d have to be me, never you, precious.” How could she be so deep set into these ideas of herself? Who could have possibly encouraged it? Wouldn’t a parent have noticed, and taught her to love herself as she was? Had they not noticed, or had they not cared? Ciro was nearly sick with worry that she’d be unable to convince otherwise, that it’d gone on too long to be reversible. But there was one thing he worried about even more then that. What type of damage could this do to the poor mare? To believe she was so . . . so many negative things. The worst was that any stallion could see what he has seen, and could do the opposite of what he was doing. He’d seen it before, a stallion swooping in, and using the mare’s weakness to keep her trapped in a relationship. Telling her no one could love her like him, that no one would want her but him. That this was the only place she could belong. True fear clenched at his bones at the idea of some stallion telling the poor young Res this. Some stallion taking it and running with it, abusing the mare, forcing her into a place that would only serve to hurt her worse. No, he was determined to fix this issue, this negativity in her self worth before someone else could come and hurt her further. Such a mare like this needed to be cared for. Protected. Watched out for. And it wasn’t happening, apparently. He moved closer, pausing as she froze in place before tilting her head up, bumping her shoulder, before looking relieved when she relaxed as he began to speak again, that was another thing he’d have to work on, seeing about letting the mare become used enough to his presence that she didn’t tense up, freak out like this. If he was here to help her, he needed to do it. He wasn’t just planning on protecting her body; he wanted to help protect her mind. He took a step back, giving space before he bowed, declaring he was at her service. He was here for her . . .
  
  And he prayed she’d see that soon.
  
  She shook out her coat before nodding her head, and her voice soon met his eager ears, agreeing to water, before even supplying a location, though he laughed as she commented about directions. His mother had been much of the same way, kind of. She’d get so horribly lost, and be wandering around helplessly, though she always managed to end up in the right place after all. “Well, if it’s not to far off, I’m sure we can find it just fine,” He declared, taking on a positive approach, before smiling as she jumped away from a squirrel, and grinned faintly, “Lead the way, Res.” He was pleasantly surprised before she moved forward, nudging his shoulder willingly before taking off in a quick, if not beautiful canter. He grinned faintly to himself, hoping that the fact she’d willingly touched him was a good sign, that maybe she was growing use to his company. He followed quickly, watching her, noticing the way she lifted her limbs high, definitely not the sort to trip then, nothing for her to trip over, he grinned, moving quickly to get to her side, smiling when ever they had to turn, or pause, as she lead them to the stream, letting her judge. He grinned, and would occasionally touch her shoulder in support when ever she jumped, murmuring that it was just a bird, trying to keep her calm so she wouldn’t bolt in one way or another. He wasn’t to sure if chasing after her to calm her down would have been a good idea if she’d done that. But he did know he’d have to follower her. He promised they’d stick together, and he was going to keep this promise, no matter what. Finally, water gleamed in the near distance, as the stepped into the clearing. The warmth of the sun touched his dark coat, immediately making him borderline uncomfortable, as he followed her out into the sun. He grinned for a moment, looking around as she trotted on to the stream. After being in such a cold dark forest for so long, this was so well . . . it was so open, so fresh.
  
  And clearly it was needed for her as well.
  
  He followed her to the stream, noticing her closed eyes, even as he trotted past, straight into the water, before promptly laying down and rolling in it, calling out, “Hey, Res, Why don’t you come in?” He flopped his head back, a splash dancing out away from him, “The water is sooo nice!” He declared, pouting when she simply turned away and trotting away from the water, before laying down beneath the tree. He frowned faintly, noticing how silent she was, the way she hadn’t looked at the water once. Was she really having that much of an issue with the way she looked. He sat up slowly, his hind quarters still stuck into the mud and rocks on the water floor, giving him the appearance of a ‘sitting’ horse as he watched her for a moment, trying to figure out what to do to help her, though it didn’t take long for her to jump, white drizzling down her once clean forehead, a bird flying away. She backed away, before feeling the tree, jumping forward, and then hitting the ground. Immediately, filled with concern, the stallion stood, taking a step towards the mare, before she was suddenly rushing towards the water, slipping on the muddy bank and landing half in, and half out of the water, before slowly climbing to her feet, ears pinned, body trembling. He walked forward slowly, grabbing a large leaf from a near by plant, and trotting towards her. He touched her side slowly before using the leaf in an attempt to wipe the majority of the white mess from her face before nudging her, “Lay down, sweet Res. Calm down, and lay down in the water. The current will help you relax. You’re alright, Res. You’re alright.” She had to be alright . . . it was just a slight scare, but he couldn’t stand seeing her like this, he couldn’t stand it at all. He nudged her, attempting to convince her to lower herself into the water, his gaze on her, expression attentive as he watched her and waited patiently for her to lay down, relax a bit . . . she was trembling so bad, and it hurt to see her like that. It hurt, because he knew . . . as much as he tried, there was nothing he could possibly do to help her, “Lay down, sweet Res, and relax. Once you’re feeling better, we can go anywhere, where ever you like . . . to get you out of here, alright?”

  
  
  

[canine]

ACCEPTED!<3