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Description



t h e s n a k e
astral tracker | shards tracker | favor tracker

"They put a hole in the back of my head, called it suicide
Woke up with these holes in my hands from the day I was crucified
You decide if you wanna ride,
Can't stop us when we're unified."

B a s i c
  Name: Filip

  Nickname(s): Lip, Feral baby, Snake

  Age: 23

  Gender: Cis male (he/him)

  Type: Hippocampus

  Orientation: knives
Zodiac:

  Herd Affiliation: Vagabond (Cultists)
Location:

  Rank: Hunter
Talents: none

Items:

P h y s i c a l
Build: underweight but toned, stocky
Height: 12.2hh

Breed: arabian/chincoteague pony

Coat color: flaxen liver chestnut

Eye color: blue/yellow heterochromia

Teke color: blue

Other:

Accessories: leather breast collar

P e r s o n a l i t y
| astute | organized | dedicated | dispassionate | bloodthirsty | impulsive |

   astute - having or showing an ability to accurately assess situations or people and turn this to one's advantage.
Calculating, smart, tactical, despite Lip's utter annoying self he has proven time and time again to be too useful to discard. His nature intuition has driven him to become a skilled hunter, particularly within his own group of trusted equines. It's best not to show any suspicious activity around Lip, as he is quick to manipulate and rid of anything that may seem threatening to him, the Cult, or Digend.

   organized - having one's affairs in order so as to deal with them efficiently.
Another attribute that many are surprised of in the hippocampus, Filip is a bit of a neat-freak. He doesn't mind getting down and dirty, but he is always counting his bullets, memorizing where he lay his traps and who his victims are. He's a tracker at heart, and without having a bit of structure in the calamity, you might get your leg caught.

   dedicated - devoted to a task or purpose; having single-minded loyalty or integrity.
He believes firmly that Digend was and is his savior, devoted wholeheartedly to the Cult for her introduction to the chaotic ways of Digend. He cries her name never in malice, but with joy-- it's a little terrifying. Lip is also dedicated to his work, hardly batting an eye if he had to kill a loved one. If the Cult asks of it, he shall deliver, no matter the cost.

   dispassionate - not influenced by strong emotion, and so able to be rational and impartial.
While he doesn't disagree with feeling emotions, Lip had noticed they got in the way of his duty as a Hunter. He has scraped away all compassion for others, a wailing mother or an injured child, they don't bother him. He is always the most reliable when it comes to dealing with a rather heart-wrenching case, and thus has a pretty strong immunity to a few tears.

   bloodthirsty - eager to shed blood.
This is self explanatory.

   impulsive - acting or done without forethought.
Lip is young, reckless, and brave, all leading to a forward and careless nature. His own life is rarely considered in dire situations, youth leaving him feeling rather immortal. In his crazes, it's difficult to get him to stick to a plan or operation, as he has his own way of handling things that he thinks is right. The more chaos, the better, right?

Theme song:

Moral Alignment: Chaotic chaotic
Aesthetic:
Playlist:
Voice claim:

Relationship preference:

R e l a t i o n s h i p s
Mother:

Father:

Siblings:

Partner(s): probably stabbed them

Children: None

  Extended family: Unknown

Connections:



R e l i g i o n
Patron god(s): Digend

Blessing(s):

Summary:

H i s t o r y

  Summary: Many called her a siren for her finicky behavior, alluring looks and song that could make any sailor want to leap off the side of his ship. Lip's mother was, for the most part, fairly well known in the northern parts of Sirith as both a sight to be seen, and a walking disaster. She wanted stories, and this urge to discover them left her to make poor decisions. Perhaps it was no fault of hers that she tangled with the Cult, their chaotic nature drawing her toward them like a magnet.

She was originally from Eithne, a lusty part of the country at that. She left it in search of adventure and freedom, all of which were inaccessible within the confines of her well-protected home. She picked up a lute and was off singing and dancing her way across Hireath, where we will eventually find her bedded with a respected follower of Digend. The mare, a blue-finned hippocampus, hadn't a clue who this goddess was, but the stallion before her had a captivating gaze, holding her in place. He managed to pull the strings just right, as within mere days she was pursuing him. Unbeknownst to her, he was the one pursuing her.

He was a Hunter, enjoyed making playthings out of the equines he came across. If they were stubborn enough, he would attempt to convert them. When it failed, he would kill them and collect their blood in a delicate vial as a gift to his one true goddess. This conversion in mind was one that failed to work on the hippocampus mare, her mind wandering too far for him to reach. No amount of preaching could get the doe-eyed girl to bend to his will, either. The sport was growing tiring, and on their eighth night he had plans to take his sickle to her throat.

It seemed Digend had other plans, as the mare reported with fear in her voice that she had fallen pregnant under the Hunter's watch. It was laughable, the events that followed.

The Cultist let her free, but not before leaving a brand on her shoulder, a crude scratching of a crown given with the sickle. She wouldn't know what the mark meant until the babe was a prancing colt. The game of chase would begin on the eighth day of his birth, as she soon found out.

It was just passersby maybe once or twice a month, eyes that lingered on her and the foal for a little longer than they should. Faces would become familiar, and she watched from afar--unable to do anything about what was taking place in front of her--as Filip began to interact with them. Them, being the Cultists--primarily his father--, who hunted the mare and her half-bred child for a sport she had no knowledge of.

Filip, more endearingly known as 'Boy' by these torturous Cultists, grew to love being around the horses of Digend. He adopted many as his family, though they would never see him that way. He was young, overzealous, and fell victim to their trap just as his mother did (who was still a safe distance away). The reason for their caution, their rather interesting dedication to this colt-watching was because indeed, he would be a member of the cult. But until he was of age, he was Nothing in their eyes, a waste of space. Turning him out with his mother seemed the most reasonable, and their little game could drag on for far longer than they anticipated. For Filip's father, this would be a tale he'd tell for ages to come of his 8-year hunt.

The baby grew quickly, a strong and vicious little one who showed potential. His father napped him from his mother when Filip was 5, filling falsehoods in his head that his mother was trying to rid of him, had plans to abandon the foal or sell him for a few shards. He believed it, of course, for he had only known his mother as a distant watcher as he was raised by the cult.

Filip apprenticed under his own father, not knowing the stallion's real title in his life--he called him Unc, a nickname that seemed to stick to the older Hunter. Lip loved the game of chase, the adrenaline, the watch. He was patient and studious, but a hurricane when anything got in his way. Whenever he would falter even a bit, Unc would threaten to rid of him, replace him with a new apprentice. In total, Lip has killed 3 of his peers in a mere act of jealousy, proving that he would be the one that Unc took under his wing, not them.

Lip had shown he could win a battle, that he was a ruthless killer and a skilled hunter. It was just a matter of putting all of the pieces together. For his last task, and what would become his Proving, Filip was to find and kill his mother. He used his father's sickle, collected her blood, and brought it to the cult with a bow of his head. "In Digend's name," he would mutter. Unc would give him the name his mother used for him. Filip.

Filip hasn't a clue of his true history, who Unc really was. In his mind, the cult saved him from a heartless monster that was his mother. He wouldn't have it any other way, for they were his saviors. He would never let them down.

Description



t h e s n a k e
astral tracker | shards tracker | favor tracker

"They put a hole in the back of my head, called it suicide
Woke up with these holes in my hands from the day I was crucified
You decide if you wanna ride,
Can't stop us when we're unified."

B a s i c
  Name: Filip

  Nickname(s): Lip, Feral baby, Snake

  Age: 23

  Gender: Cis male (he/him)

  Type: Hippocampus

  Orientation: knives
Zodiac:

  Herd Affiliation: Vagabond (Cultists)
Location:

  Rank: Hunter
Talents: none

Items:

P h y s i c a l
Build: underweight but toned, stocky
Height: 12.2hh

Breed: arabian/chincoteague pony

Coat color: flaxen liver chestnut

Eye color: blue/yellow heterochromia

Teke color: blue

Other:

Accessories: leather breast collar

P e r s o n a l i t y
| astute | organized | dedicated | dispassionate | bloodthirsty | impulsive |

   astute - having or showing an ability to accurately assess situations or people and turn this to one's advantage.
Calculating, smart, tactical, despite Lip's utter annoying self he has proven time and time again to be too useful to discard. His nature intuition has driven him to become a skilled hunter, particularly within his own group of trusted equines. It's best not to show any suspicious activity around Lip, as he is quick to manipulate and rid of anything that may seem threatening to him, the Cult, or Digend.

   organized - having one's affairs in order so as to deal with them efficiently.
Another attribute that many are surprised of in the hippocampus, Filip is a bit of a neat-freak. He doesn't mind getting down and dirty, but he is always counting his bullets, memorizing where he lay his traps and who his victims are. He's a tracker at heart, and without having a bit of structure in the calamity, you might get your leg caught.

   dedicated - devoted to a task or purpose; having single-minded loyalty or integrity.
He believes firmly that Digend was and is his savior, devoted wholeheartedly to the Cult for her introduction to the chaotic ways of Digend. He cries her name never in malice, but with joy-- it's a little terrifying. Lip is also dedicated to his work, hardly batting an eye if he had to kill a loved one. If the Cult asks of it, he shall deliver, no matter the cost.

   dispassionate - not influenced by strong emotion, and so able to be rational and impartial.
While he doesn't disagree with feeling emotions, Lip had noticed they got in the way of his duty as a Hunter. He has scraped away all compassion for others, a wailing mother or an injured child, they don't bother him. He is always the most reliable when it comes to dealing with a rather heart-wrenching case, and thus has a pretty strong immunity to a few tears.

   bloodthirsty - eager to shed blood.
This is self explanatory.

   impulsive - acting or done without forethought.
Lip is young, reckless, and brave, all leading to a forward and careless nature. His own life is rarely considered in dire situations, youth leaving him feeling rather immortal. In his crazes, it's difficult to get him to stick to a plan or operation, as he has his own way of handling things that he thinks is right. The more chaos, the better, right?

Theme song:

Moral Alignment: Chaotic chaotic
Aesthetic:
Playlist:
Voice claim:

Relationship preference:

R e l a t i o n s h i p s
Mother:

Father:

Siblings:

Partner(s): probably stabbed them

Children: None

  Extended family: Unknown

Connections:



R e l i g i o n
Patron god(s): Digend

Blessing(s):

Summary:

H i s t o r y

  Summary: Many called her a siren for her finicky behavior, alluring looks and song that could make any sailor want to leap off the side of his ship. Lip's mother was, for the most part, fairly well known in the northern parts of Sirith as both a sight to be seen, and a walking disaster. She wanted stories, and this urge to discover them left her to make poor decisions. Perhaps it was no fault of hers that she tangled with the Cult, their chaotic nature drawing her toward them like a magnet.

She was originally from Eithne, a lusty part of the country at that. She left it in search of adventure and freedom, all of which were inaccessible within the confines of her well-protected home. She picked up a lute and was off singing and dancing her way across Hireath, where we will eventually find her bedded with a respected follower of Digend. The mare, a blue-finned hippocampus, hadn't a clue who this goddess was, but the stallion before her had a captivating gaze, holding her in place. He managed to pull the strings just right, as within mere days she was pursuing him. Unbeknownst to her, he was the one pursuing her.

He was a Hunter, enjoyed making playthings out of the equines he came across. If they were stubborn enough, he would attempt to convert them. When it failed, he would kill them and collect their blood in a delicate vial as a gift to his one true goddess. This conversion in mind was one that failed to work on the hippocampus mare, her mind wandering too far for him to reach. No amount of preaching could get the doe-eyed girl to bend to his will, either. The sport was growing tiring, and on their eighth night he had plans to take his sickle to her throat.

It seemed Digend had other plans, as the mare reported with fear in her voice that she had fallen pregnant under the Hunter's watch. It was laughable, the events that followed.

The Cultist let her free, but not before leaving a brand on her shoulder, a crude scratching of a crown given with the sickle. She wouldn't know what the mark meant until the babe was a prancing colt. The game of chase would begin on the eighth day of his birth, as she soon found out.

It was just passersby maybe once or twice a month, eyes that lingered on her and the foal for a little longer than they should. Faces would become familiar, and she watched from afar--unable to do anything about what was taking place in front of her--as Filip began to interact with them. Them, being the Cultists--primarily his father--, who hunted the mare and her half-bred child for a sport she had no knowledge of.

Filip, more endearingly known as 'Boy' by these torturous Cultists, grew to love being around the horses of Digend. He adopted many as his family, though they would never see him that way. He was young, overzealous, and fell victim to their trap just as his mother did (who was still a safe distance away). The reason for their caution, their rather interesting dedication to this colt-watching was because indeed, he would be a member of the cult. But until he was of age, he was Nothing in their eyes, a waste of space. Turning him out with his mother seemed the most reasonable, and their little game could drag on for far longer than they anticipated. For Filip's father, this would be a tale he'd tell for ages to come of his 8-year hunt.

The baby grew quickly, a strong and vicious little one who showed potential. His father napped him from his mother when Filip was 5, filling falsehoods in his head that his mother was trying to rid of him, had plans to abandon the foal or sell him for a few shards. He believed it, of course, for he had only known his mother as a distant watcher as he was raised by the cult.

Filip apprenticed under his own father, not knowing the stallion's real title in his life--he called him Unc, a nickname that seemed to stick to the older Hunter. Lip loved the game of chase, the adrenaline, the watch. He was patient and studious, but a hurricane when anything got in his way. Whenever he would falter even a bit, Unc would threaten to rid of him, replace him with a new apprentice. In total, Lip has killed 3 of his peers in a mere act of jealousy, proving that he would be the one that Unc took under his wing, not them.

Lip had shown he could win a battle, that he was a ruthless killer and a skilled hunter. It was just a matter of putting all of the pieces together. For his last task, and what would become his Proving, Filip was to find and kill his mother. He used his father's sickle, collected her blood, and brought it to the cult with a bow of his head. "In Digend's name," he would mutter. Unc would give him the name his mother used for him. Filip.

Filip hasn't a clue of his true history, who Unc really was. In his mind, the cult saved him from a heartless monster that was his mother. He wouldn't have it any other way, for they were his saviors. He would never let them down.