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Maximus
Vagabond Citizen
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Age:

8 [Year 496 Spring]

Gender:

Male

Pronouns:

He/Him/His

Orientation:

Heterosexual

Breed:

Thoroughbred X

Height:

15 hh

Health:

15

Attack:

5

Experience:

10
Offline

Last Visit:

06-24-2019, 10:04 AM

Joined:

06-30-2018
Signos: 655 (Donate)
Total Posts: 14 (Find All Posts)
Total Threads: 5 (Find All Threads)

Maximus is unassuming in both height and build, lither than he is brawny, and with the appearance of someone who prefers to evade with speed and agility, rather than stand and fight. He has a slim and nimble set of shoulders that flow into a particularly well muscled hind end. Set high and articulate on his rump is a short, soft scut—much like an over-sized rabbit's tail.

His neck, medium-built and without any mane or forelock, arches into a fine, handsome head—straight-bridged and clean, with an equal mixture of nobility and mischief apparent in every plain and feature. His eyes, somewhat large in size, are a piercing pink-red, with shades of blue and purple running through, depending on the angle of the sun. They are the center of a face that is quite often impish, arrogant, and guarded. Perhaps one of his most notable features are his ears, which are overly long and keenly expressive.

He is white in colour with dark grey points—including lower legs, ears and muzzle.

Around his neck, hanging on a long, crude piece of twine, is a sun-bleached rabbit's skull passed through the eye holes. Max is notably protective over this curio.

Arrogant, Impish, Unpredictable, Testing, Cool
Playful, Fun-loving, Loyal, Affectionate, Charming, Outgoing


Playful and impish, fun-loving and arrogant, loyal and affectionate, if he hasn't decided to be standoffish and cool. Maximus can be chaotic and steady—because he feels like it; because he is sensitive and easily offended; because we woke up on the wrong side of the bed—the once-prince is not necessarily an easy man to get along with.

He grew up feeling behold to nobody but himself, raised by a passive and inattentive (albeit doting) mother and father who allowed the young then-prince to skirt around humbleness, or order, developing an ego that would survive even the strangest of magic.

He was not wholly rotten, though. He made friends by being outgoing and charming, playful and inventive—a general leading his troops into mischief around the warren. It did not matter from where they came, the low-borders of the warren or the nobility, they all had that the drive for fun and besides, they were all equally under him, if you think about it.

He grew up, and these boys he had surrounded himself with, by and large, stayed his comrades. Loyalty, indeed, is not something Max takes lightly. It is a bind that is earned and is regularly tested for its strength. No, as he grew up he did not become more humble, but he became more calculated, manipulative, steady, you might say. You'd probably be crazy, but it certainly appeared that way. And as it so often goes, Max was softened by love. Somewhat.

If you live a life in the leisure class, with very little tested, one becomes... stagnant? Comfortable. But Maximus has not gone untested, for magic did, indeed, try the once-prince. In its wake, this braggadocio is, to a degree, a well-kept guard, secreting sadness, loss, bitterness and pain into a deep, dark place.

A flash of light is the last thing he remembered—teal-green, blinding and containing a million mischievous possibilities—before the forest faded away around him...

But long, long before that, Maximus was born in a litter of five, to a king and queen in their spacious, dirt chamber. Tiny, sightless, and underdeveloped, writhing in a ball of siblings for heat; visited routinely by their mother to nurse and nose in the soft, pale fur of her underbelly. Soon they grew hair, and slowly, their eyes unglued and peeked open. In time, they could totter from their nest of dry grass and carefully plucked hair, exploring the dark, damp earthen caves of their parent's kingdom; visiting the near-by apartments of those rabbits of import. When she could no longer contain them with her maternal caution alone, they surfaced.

They each developed rather different personalities, as different individuals are want to do, and by far the most difficult was Max. You see, when you are the mother or father to a prey-thing, a vulnerable and flighty animal at risk to everything around them, you hope to instill carefulness. Vigilance. Order. Responsability. Particularly when your brood is expected to take some level of leadership.

Carefulness? Vigilance? Order. Please. Leadership was not something Maximus lacked, though. What he chose to do with it brought endless sighs and head shakes to his ineffectual, doting, parents. He attracted young bucks from all corners of his warren—playful and mischievous young boys that thrived on the unchecked privileges that Maximus enjoyed. They raided the pantry-chamber, where harvesters stored food. They harried and harassed the wisened only seer in the forest.

Brats! turned into Hoodlums! turned into jackasses, muttered under breath, as this close-knit band of bothersome bastards grew up into swaggering bucks. Handsome now, with all the charm and bad-boy appeal the young prince had garnered in his adolescence, it was not hard for Maximus to attract the does.

Only one attracted him, however, and she played hard-to-get. Which was fine.

Max loved games.

Persistence paid off. And, anyway, she had always wanted him. Hazel. To the constant snickering and ribbing of his comrades, she became the one thing he seemed to care about. Really care about. Recklessly, youthfully care about... She shared many of his qualities—arrogance, charm, but the young doe was all softness on the surface, pretty and innocent. Settling down felt so distant, but for the first time in forever, it did not repulse him entirely.

He had her, and she had him, but for some, nothing is ever enough.

Nothing is ever too much, or too far, or too safe.

"I have one thing left to prove." To his bucks, this was music to their ears, albeit absurd, because any one of them could see that the game had been played and won. But not one of them was willing to relinquish their delinquency to love, quite yet. They urged him on, plotted and planned and under cover of night, they ventured deep into the forest, where the old seer held private quarters carved into a hollowed, leaning redwood.

Arrogance is blinding.

They bucks snuck into the old seer's home, filled with strange curios—bird's feathers hung from spliters with thin, silvery threads; eggs of different shapes and sizes, mottled and odd-coloured; dried out flower petals and wild-herbs. Among this clutter of dreck, he knew, was something that would seal Hazel to him. They crept, silent-as-could-be around the place, whispering out things they had found amount the hoard. "Oi! Maxie, check this out!" he followed the voice to a smirking buck, standing beside a small stone. It looked, somehow, like wood, ringed and bark-coloured—though it was hard and shiny, fossilized under millions of years of pressure. Swirled in it like a ripple from the centre was streaks of opal, multi-coloured and strangely dazzling. It was unlike anything he had ever seen. It was it. This was his endgame!

"Grab it, Ollie," he hissed out quietly, turning quickly to rally his bucks, but as he did his tail brushed with something. It had been perched too precariously, as so much of the seer's things seemed to be, and with the slightest waft it rolled from the flat podium on which it had stood for a very, very, very, very long time. Perfectly cylindrical and clear, once touched its surface danced with light and colour, as if the ball contained a galaxy. Wide-eyed, the prince watched, helpless to stop it for it seemed to want to show him the answers to everything, as it fell from its perch and shatter as if made of the most delicate of glass. The room filled with that cosmic-stuff, unbelievably bright and vacuous and venerable, the young rabbit fled, colliding with one another. As they tumbled out of the redwood, each of them disappeared into a pile of hair of teeth. All except for the young prince who was held fast, immobile, by an unseen hand.

"Brats! Hoodlums! Jackasses!" came a pitchy, wild screech, from the old tree clambered an even older rabbit. Well-greyed, his eyes cloudy and bizarrely empty. His stomped his feet furiously on the forest floor, "how many time did you think you could get away with it, princeling? Hmm?" The old man circled him, coming face-to-face, his scarred, scraggly ears pinned back against his fur-bare neck, "that was one step. Too. Far. You have many lessons to learn young man. Here is your first. There is always someone more powerful than you."

A flash of light is the last thing he remembered—teal-green, blinding and containing a million swirling possibilities—before the forest faded away around him...

When he awoke, head pounding, he found himself in a different body, strange and large, nothing like the one he had been evicted from. In this ungainly form, mind befuddled by the fading presence of magic, Max stumbled to his warren, calling out the names of his bucks, his mother, father, Hazel.. He was met with fear, strange glances, and finally, avoidance, for the rabbit could not tell why the horse was acting so strange, only that whatever it was would not infect their kingdom. Foot stomps and grunting, backs turned coolly. Max understood these things—he understood, too, in time, that he could not communicate with them. The old seer had severed that, muted his voice—made it an unintelligible string of neighs and whinnies that none of them could translate. Not his mother. Not his father. Not his Hazel. And since none of his bucks had returned to tell the story, they assumed them gone. Flad? Lost? Felled by their own stupidity?

Max stayed near-by, until staying near-by was too hard.

Active & Parvus Magic





Passive Magic





Bonded





Armor, Outfit, and Accessories

1. Rabbit's skull pendant around neck, tied with crude twine.



Agora Items & Awards



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Miscellaneous

Reference and History images by Artistic-Pineapple
Appearance image by Poloniousrexx
Headshot in Personlity by Enfanir
Signature Page doll by AmeAmeridian
Banner and Postbit by Fintron



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