Post by B O U D I C C A on Jun 3, 2008 20:16:08 GMT -5
[/center]Boudicca was played on Eidolon and the old Ebon Roses
The Venom upon your Tongue [/color]
B.O.U.D.I.C.C.A.
Method of Seduction
Red Hot Veins Infused
Egyptian Arabian Heritage
[/color]The World has Watched
5 years of perfection
[/color]Let me Intimidate you Darling
15.3hh
[/color]Lust's Dreams and Fidelity's Nightmares .
There is nothing more streamlined or more elegant than the form of the Egyptian Arabian. Boudicca, is the manifestation of eons of desert monarchs. The features which she displays are the epitome of the breed-making her markedly distinguished. The artistically chiseled Arbabian visage houses bright orbs of a chemical and caustic rust hue, sparked with sulphurous flecks of yellow. She has the body of a lean harlot, which seductively sheathed in a brilliant vermillion silk; and cascading from her nape and rump is fine satin locks of dahlia.
[.] The SULTRY Hymn[.]
Storming the throne of the Damned
The Bejeweled Scepter against your Neck
[/COLOR]Xibalba
A long legacy of perfection.
[/color]Cronus
A Tradition of Royalty
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Blood Relations
Apocalypse
The Privileged Male of Choice
[/color]Tortuga, Mutiny
Mistakes
[.] Try to define the INSANITY [.]
Behavior Patterns
Fools! To try to describe the woman is impossible- but words come to mind such as seductive, vain, brutal, well spoken, intelligent, passionate and blood thirsty.
Tragedy of Remembrance
Woman of the Three Rings
]
The past isn’t supposed to be a bowl of sweet candy, where each memory is supposed to be savored and treasured. History is instead, a lethal drugging pill. One that numbs and then rips apart from the inside out. Each and every remembrance- tears life’s tapestry into a million shreds of nothingness and leaves you to sweep your own broom and clean up the charred pieces in solitude. Although there is no pity that can be afforded to the tragedy of blood and roses- it had been inevitable and unavoidable, from glorious start to miserable finish. What good did the hot and streaking tears which stained the Red Queen's cheeks do?! Nothing! They did not ease the gaping emptiness inside, nor the agony which gnawed at the stomach and slashed at the heart. The only refuge from the consuming grief was a diversion on which to focus efforts upon… the ascension to the throne of Gitana a year and a half ago had been the distraction of Boudicca’s life. And although the scars were still there, but the depression was not. She was resilient and although the nights were lonely- things were back to normal.
The enthroned Queen of Gitana, with her hemial orbs narrowed into scrutinizing slits of rust, looked from her vantage point with the fastidious judging eye of a critic. Great care was taken as she appraised the defensive ability of the Gitana fortress. The cliffs were impenetrable on three sides, yet there was a wide open passageway into the lands of Bayyone. Boudicca had no quarrel to pick with its King- but did not want to overlook the possibility of an attack from his lands. It was always off and on. The swirling orbs of burgundy looked away from the rolling landscape and as she wrapped the diaphanous folds of her train to better fit her curvaceous form, the Scarlet Siren began to tap the three rings on her svelte fingers upon the metal which bored the lush red velvet of the throne. The sound was annoying and shrill- but the Queen failed to take notice. Boudicca’s face was contorted, a frown etching its way across the lustrous features of her cheeks and pulling the pouty lips downward into an unconscious look of appeal. The ferocious concentration consumed her, as facts and bits of information were being turned over and over in her head; somewhat like a detective playing like a broken record- hoping that somehow it would resurrect its self and yield the answers which were so dearly desired. And then! The loud cacophony created by the three rings was suddenly stopped as the minx raised them to her face for observation. The priceless diamond set in platinum was examined first. It was the only remnant of the mastermind of her father’s political schemes and her service as a legally bound concubine by the fetters of marriage. The burgundy orbs hastily abandoned the diamond in disgust and were turned more fondly toward the black obsidian stone which was intricately wrought with gold filigree. This ring, unlike the first… was admired by the Queen. It was symbolic of the transformation that had taken place not too long ago and what had been discovered within- A woman with an unnaturally innate sense and understanding of the deepest complexities of politics. And although she still mourned the loss of the man who had bestowed it upon her- her devious occuli could not help but wander to the third and final ring. It was perhaps the most beloved of the three. It was an unusually heavy ring, a ruby set deep in the embrace of the finest silver, on which was masterfully etched an old and sacred crest. It was the only tangible evidence that the most illicitly passionate masquerade of the century had taken place. This third and final ring was often hidden by the queen- locked away in some dungeon safe. The strange whim which had prompted her to remove it from her sacred hiding spot remained un-named, but she wore the triumvirate of rings almost religiously. And although many prying attempts had been made to identify the family crest upon the third stone… nothing has ever surfaced. To the common slattern, much of the life of Boudicca was a fantastic mystery. Only a select few knew of the contents of the musty volumes of impassionate love notes written in a fine Victorian script, declarations of war, surrenders and triumphs.
[.]
The vermillion stilts of Boudicca gingerly picked their way through the lavender lilies and shameful red roses. These were the last flowers of spring and summer. Soon the innocent carefree blossoms would fall prey to the brutal frosts and be ravished by the unrelenting North Wind. Fall was here and the brisk sensation of change hovered in the air. The trees were hesitantly starting to change their garments- trading their emeralds in for rubies and amber. It was quite a disappointment to Boudicca that Beatrix had not already made her entrance into Forbidden Gardens this fine evening. There was news to share- more mares were coming to Eidolon and soon the twins would have to go take first pick of the mares and stallions which paraded in the claiming grounds. Gitana needed members- to keep it up to par with its competition. And with winter’s wrath in the all too certain future- we needed to be secure of our numbers and sure of the supplies of which would sustain us through the frigid months.
[.]
The Scarlet Woman is back… with all the ink splattered love notes written in Victorian script and sealed with kisses resurrected from the ashes! The spilling locks of vermillion and the pouty lips of rouge still feature the visage of the Queen! And who can miss her porcelain skin in that striking gown? No one here in Eidolon suspects the three rings and their significance- to them she’s just another bombshell. And ladies and gentlemen, that’s the way it should be. Watch those hips move, in that dress and those shoes.
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