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About Traditional Art / Hobbyist Official Beta Tester BlaineFemale/United States Groups :iconaqha-world-champion: AQHA-World-Champion
 
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My deviantART Story

Journal Entry: Sun Aug 10, 2014, 5:50 PM
Ahh yes, belated but necessary to my conscience. 

I was probably around the ages of 12 or 13 (2010-ish) when I stumbled across this wonderful website, full of horses and art. I saw Baringa-of-the-Wind 's profile and was so fascinated by the prospect of an 'online ranch,' horses YOU made and YOU owned and YOU competed with. I didn't capture most of the details that are now part of HorseArt-RPG (or HARPG as we all know and love it) but was in awe of digital art and horses. So I studied Baringa's profile for a good year, among with others like abosz007 and some I can't quite remember. I didn't have an account just yet but I loved to check up on these artist and see what was going on with their stables. So the first player-made breed I became familiar with was the Obertaurer, without knowing it. Which makes me laugh now considering how involved I am in HARPG now to see the Obertaurer in full force.

A year or so passed and when I was in 7th grade I made an account, I think it was about 2011. There I made my first ranch, Emerald River Ranch. Tiff was created here along with other BRR faces like Black Whiskey [both Teddy and Tiff are part of this journal header actually lol] or my OC Tango Patches.
I competed in my very first show, WesternSpice 's Equine Affiar show. We became quite good friends and I admire her. ^.^

I wanted a fresh start and from there created this account from which I am now known as "Blaine." BRR was made and I delved into the Western side of HARPG, where Tiff became a top horse and Peek is arising.
When Nordanners were created I obtained my first one, Smuk [who is the third horse on this journal header], before they got popular. I went on from him to become a "Nordanner powerhouse," with every mutation possible owned, dominant and recessive. I felt I was a positive force for the community and donated lots to the group. After being blamed for something that was not my fault, I left Nordanners. I dislike drama HIGHLY and have no tolerance for those who dwell in it.
And here I am! You can blame Baringa for me being here. ;P I don't really feel like adding art but, yeah. 

Some Have One, Others Have None by blaine-rr
Some Have One, Others Have None
My attempt for the little dude who stole my heart (I still luv u Sethie-poo). I thought about his story all through work one day and it all just, like, worked. Y'know? Gosh, I'm so attached, it's bad. :lmao:

NOTE: while Jaro is of Blackwood blood, he'll be living in Glenmore. So technically I'm trying out for Glenmore, yes? ;P 


Fawnling 759 Summer Fawn Art Auction by Ehetere

[recommended you listen to this soundtrack while reading: da feels]

"N-no, Ratibor, no! I can't! I won't!" A dark head swung back and forth in fear and despair. "No!"

  The bloody body of a once-beautiful doe lay in the coarse grass, surrounded by a birthing sac and blood. Lots of blood. Enough to attract wolves. Enough to validate death. The high summer moon reflected the sun's light mockingly, Mother Úir was too kind to let it shine down on this scene.
  The dark head swung back and forth yet still, the eyes of the owner trying to grasp what was happening. His large rack hit the surrounding pine trees, causing the surrounding forest to shake just like his heart. The doe's bleats grew fainter and fainter as he resisted what must be done. Was there no healer nearby? Was this not a sacred spot? Why would the Great Mother allow this to happen to her most valiant doe?
   Cold and despondent, the broken stag relinquished to his mate's soft cries, plunging his hooves and antlers over and over onto her thick chest, skin giving way flint-sharp hooves as her breathing stopped quite suddenly. A raspy breath was drawn, gasping and gurgling as blood flowed from her tongue and throat. "Bris... thank..." But it was not to be finished<img src="cdncache1-a.akamaihd.net/items…" style="background-color: transparent !important; border: none !important; display: inline-block !important; text-indent: 0px !important; float: none !important; font-weight: bold !important; height: 10px !important; margin: 0px 0px 0px 3px !important; min-height: 0px !important; min-width: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important; text-transform: uppercase !important; text-decoration: underline !important; vertical-align: super !important; width: 10px !important; background-position: initial initial !important; background-repeat: initial initial !important;">. As he looked down, her head rolled back and her heart threw one more pump, one last attempt to save the battered doe's life. A final convulsion took over her sooty body as her soul withdrew, Brismor could only hope it went to Úir. But then, what could he care? His only love was taken by the cruel god, as was everything else in his life. Was he not to have happiness? Was it unattainable for his unfeeling heart?

  Lamenting the death of his only source of happiness, the General completely<img src="cdncache1-a.akamaihd.net/items…" style="background-color: transparent !important; border: none !important; display: inline-block !important; text-indent: 0px !important; float: none !important; font-weight: bold !important; height: 10px !important; margin: 0px 0px 0px 3px !important; min-height: 0px !important; min-width: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important; text-transform: uppercase !important; text-decoration: underline !important; vertical-align: super !important; width: 10px !important; background-position: initial initial !important; background-repeat: initial initial !important;"> forgot the reason this had happened.
There, lying among the gore and coarse grasses the herd lived off of, was a dusky gold fawn. A stag fawn, a large colt. Much larger than any other fawn that had been seen in the Western Isles since, well, Brismor himself. He had rocked his dam's internal<img src="cdncache1-a.akamaihd.net/items…" style="background-color: transparent !important; border: none !important; display: inline-block !important; text-indent: 0px !important; float: none !important; font-weight: bold !important; height: 10px !important; margin: 0px 0px 0px 3px !important; min-height: 0px !important; min-width: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important; text-transform: uppercase !important; text-decoration: underline !important; vertical-align: super !important; width: 10px !important; background-position: initial initial !important; background-repeat: initial initial !important;"> organs throughout the birth and slid out whilst rupturing what was left of her. His dark-tipped ears moved slowly, slick and wet, while he opened his eyes. A dreadful scene lay before his innocent eyes: a huge dark stag standing over the body of a broken doe, blood smeared all over the doe as well as the stag's horns and forelegs.
  The stag looked up suddenly as he heard the howl, announcing the arrival of a small pack of wolves. Attracted to the scent of blood, and the lack of ice bears or other larger predators spurred their hungry paws on. The huge stag's ears swiveled indecisively between the approaching wolves and his mate's corpse. He had yet to notice his golden company. But when he did, it only hurt more.

 This is what had killed his mate. His beloved Ratimor, the only source of happiness in his wretched life. It was too pale to survive in the woods anyway. It had to go. 
  Something deep within Brismor stopped his sharp hooves from flying towards the soft skull of the dusky gold fawn however. 
----------------------------------------
  Not yet a day later, sweat steamed off of Bris' dark pelt as he rushed through the mountain. He had to make it to Glenmore before tomorrow's dawn or the fawn would die. He needed nourishment badly, having not yet eaten since birth. His ribs already showed and his hips protruded painfully. 
  
  Stumbling over a large, unseen, log the fawn tumbled from Brismor's grasp and began to tumble down another valley. Bleating weakly as his hide was ripped apart by thorns and boulders, Bris was close to leaving the dying fawn there. Why couldn't he?
  Scooping him up again Bris ran on again. The moon began to rise as he crossed through the mountain ranges to Glenmore. 

  Several hours later, the sun peeking through the pines, Brismor had barely reached his destination on time. He scanned the glen before him, not a Fawnling in sight. This was it. He had attempted, was that not good enough? His legs shook from the race over the mountains. That was not something a Fawnling should attempt to cross in one day and night without stopping. 

  Brismor accidentally stepped on the fawn's dragging tail as he pushed the little colt onwards, threatening him almost with lowered antlers. It was for his own good to be pushed. The golden fawn bleated weakly in respite, and all of the sudden Brismor had an idea. Stomping on the little tail, the fawn almost screamed, his small voice echoing through the trees. Bris heard a rustling beyond and knew something had to hear that, hopefully a doe. 

  Lo and behold, a creamy doe gracefully slid from behind brush to see a dark shape running towards Blackwood. A small lump of dried blood and bones was lying not 20 feet away as she called for healers.





Name:
 Jaromir
Pronunciation: Jar-O-meer
Meaning: 1Severe [Slavic]
Nicknames: Jaro
Gender: Stag
Breed: Fawnling
Height: 14.1hh  [Heavy build]
Age: 4 months
Date of Birth: Year 759 of the New Age
Colour: Sooty Wild Bay Dun Smoky Fawn
Genotype: Ee/A+a/nD/StySty/fwsfws/nrz
Bloodlines: 100% Blackwood***
Violette [Foster Mom]
General BrismorRatibor***
- Pedigree
- Fawnling Design, #4


Personality<img src="cdncache1-a.akamaihd.net/items…" style="background-color: transparent !important; border: none !important; display: inline-block !important; text-indent: 0px !important; float: none !important; font-weight: bold !important; height: 10px !important; margin: 0px 0px 0px 3px !important; min-height: 0px !important; min-width: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important; text-transform: uppercase !important; text-decoration: underline !important; vertical-align: super !important; width: 10px !important; background-position: initial initial !important; background-repeat: initial initial !important;"> at a Glance: Reserved | Observant | Loyal | Studious | Aware | Vindictive | Insensitive
Assets: Straightforward, focused, determined, listener, somewhat charming
Faults: Manipulative, emotionless, spiteful, self-conscious, rigid
Baubles: none yet




History:
  Jaromir is one part abandonment and two parts tragedy. His real father, General Brismor of Blackwood, left him on the border of Blackwood and Glenmore when his dam died in childbirth, his birth. Brismor couldn't stand the sight of him, remembering his beloved mate as his eyes glittered with her spirit. Brismor brought the young fawn through the Ridgeback Ranges, starving Jaro desperately as he tried to rid himself of the fawn. Jaromir arrived in Glenmore, his father having disappeared while Jaromir still remembered the smell of that large, dark stag. His coat is familiar. Who was he? Jaromir can't remember, it was a dream to him, he is pure Glenmore for all he knows. The scent is in the back of his brain though, his olfactories pumping whenever he nears the Blackwood border.

  The young doe that found Jaromir; starving and bedraggled, cut and torn, immediately rushed him to healers and bring the dead back to life. She raise him as her own, along with her other foster son. Not too many questions were asked, but as Jaro grew, his size betrayed him. He couldn't have been a pure Glenmore, he was cursed. A broken branch grafted onto a different family<img src="cdncache1-a.akamaihd.net/items…" style="background-color: transparent !important; border: none !important; display: inline-block !important; text-indent: 0px !important; float: none !important; font-weight: bold !important; height: 10px !important; margin: 0px 0px 0px 3px !important; min-height: 0px !important; min-width: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important; text-transform: uppercase !important; text-decoration: underline !important; vertical-align: super !important; width: 10px !important; background-position: initial initial !important; background-repeat: initial initial !important;"> tree, Jaromir grew up believing he'd be forever alone, that no one would ever fall in love with such a cursed giant. So he shut himself off, trying to empty himself so he would feel nothing.


Role Play

Affiliation: Glenmore
Herd Position: Herd member; future herbalist
Mate:None
Love Interests: None
Current Location: Glenmore, Glenwood area with his foster mom



Skill Points


Speed: 0 [No Level] (Build Cap: 5 points max)
Stamina: 4 [No Level]
Strength: 8 [No Level]
Experience: 0

Fights/Battles
Total Won: 0/0

Magic Type: Black Magic - Necromancy***
Magic: 0 [No Level]
Herbs: 0 [No Level]

Breakdown
+4 stamina - base bonus<img src="cdncache1-a.akamaihd.net/items…" style="background-color: transparent !important; border: none !important; display: inline-block !important; text-indent: 0px !important; float: none !important; font-weight: bold !important; height: 10px !important; margin: 0px 0px 0px 3px !important; min-height: 0px !important; min-width: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important; text-transform: uppercase !important; text-decoration: underline !important; vertical-align: super !important; width: 10px !important; background-position: initial initial !important; background-repeat: initial initial !important;">
+8 strength - base bonus<img src="cdncache1-a.akamaihd.net/items…" style="background-color: transparent !important; border: none !important; display: inline-block !important; text-indent: 0px !important; float: none !important; font-weight: bold !important; height: 10px !important; margin: 0px 0px 0px 3px !important; min-height: 0px !important; min-width: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important; text-transform: uppercase !important; text-decoration: underline !important; vertical-align: super !important; width: 10px !important; background-position: initial initial !important; background-repeat: initial initial !important;">


***Jaromir is unaware of his pedigree as well<img src="cdncache1-a.akamaihd.net/items…" style="background-color: transparent !important; border: none !important; display: inline-block !important; text-indent: 0px !important; float: none !important; font-weight: bold !important; height: 10px !important; margin: 0px 0px 0px 3px !important; min-height: 0px !important; min-width: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important; text-transform: uppercase !important; text-decoration: underline !important; vertical-align: super !important; width: 10px !important; background-position: initial initial !important; background-repeat: initial initial !important;"> as his magical abilities; he has always been led to believe that he is a pure Glenmore with no magical ability. He will discover this is untrue in the future...


</i>
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Ratibor | Doe | Blackwood NPC | Herbalist/Witch by blaine-rr
Ratibor | Doe | Blackwood NPC | Herbalist/Witch
DECEASED
Name:
 Ratibor
Pronunciation: Ratt-e-BOAR
Meaning: 1Forest Fighter
Nicknames:  
Gender: Doe
Breed: Fawnling
Height: 12.1hh  [Heavy build]
Age: 12 years
Date of Birth: Year 747 of the New Age
Colour: Sooty Chestnut Partially Restricted Smoky Fawn
Genotype: ee/A+a/StySty/fwsfws/rzrz
Bloodlines: 100% Blackwood
Kiliggan [Sire, NPC, Raider/Soldier/Probably-doesn't-like-you]
Lierya [Dam, NPC, Witch/Herbalist]


Personality at a Glance: Analytic | Composed | Ambitious | Selfless | Manipulative | Fickle | Perceptive
Assets: Observant, cunning, die-hard loyal to Mother Úir, willing to help those in need
Faults: Prideful, stubborn, mean streak with unwanted intruders, perfectionist
Ornaments
:bulletblack: Wolf Jaw Pendant: obtained from her father, Kiliggan, as a coming of age gift when she became advanced in necromancy. It is fawn-hide leather and has bone beads from small creatures, probably rats or squirrels. The feathers are (black) of crow and (dark brown) owl. The tooth is from an ice bear, the ice bear that killed her mentor Xillias.
The feathers help her connect to the Great Mother, strengthening her bond with the spirit world. The ice bear tooth reminds her of the brutality of life, as well as the circle of life, and to remember all her beloved mentor taught her, to honor Xillias.
:bulletblack: Obsidian Pendant. she gathered this obsidian from Widow's Hollow on the eve of her 10th birthday; it enhances her necromancy and strengthens her hexes. Curses are unaffected.


History:
 Ratibor has a fairly normal history for a Blackwood familiar; her mother died at an early age due to a wolf attack and her father raised her alone. Ratibor harbored a cold menace towards wolves ever since and kills every one she sees, her heavy build helps her immensely in this goal. At the age of 3 she decided to follow in her mother's footsteps and become a powerful witch and herbalist, a humble servant to Úir. She began regular meetings with her mentor, Xillias, who became a mother figure for the young and confused Ratibor. Xillias doted on Ratibor and loved teaching her new things, the pair learned powerful magic together. 
 Her world was shaken again when an ice bear, provoked by foolish stags, came thundering down the mountain and took a bite out of the first flesh she saw, which just happened to be Xillias' smoky coat as she was gathering herbs at Widow's Hollow. Ratibor took this loss hard as she tried to heal her mentor but wasn't skilled enough and other shamans knew it was a lost cause. Weeping over her mentor's body, Ratibor made her mind up to defend the defenseless, stand for the broken and speak for the silent. Just as her gentle mentor did.
 Years passed and Ratibor became immersed in her work of studying, powering up so she could perform some greater good to memorialize Xillias. She was so devoted that she never took an interest in stags, who likewise stayed away from the ambitious witch. At least, most of them. A dark soldier stag, a monster of stags, Brismor, took a liking to her. Her determination was attractive as well as her soft-hearted nature (hidden behind thorns of course). They courted for many seasons, him taking just as long to fully warm up to her as did she to him. With the proclamation of Brismor gaining General status, the two celebrated. Months later, Ratibor found herself pregnant with Bris' foal, and she was proud. She had great plans to teach the fawn in the ways of Uír, but that never happened.
  She carried the fawn for a very long time, and he was born in the summer of year 759. Brismor was away with raiders and Blackwood mercenaries, planning something against Silverthorne or Glenmore per usual. Strong and violent pains came from within and Ratibor knew it was the fawn. She sought shelter at her only place of true comfort, the Widow's Hollow. She thought being born there would be most sacred and a blessing to her fawn. Ratibor herself became a sacrifice to the Great Mother that late night however. The fawn was too large and ruptured Ratibor's internal organs, the strain of birth too much. Brismor heard her pitiful bleats too late and only arrived to, at her begging, put her out of her misery. He strained to find a healer somewhere close by, but they were all away at a meeting of sorts at the Sandy Shore. The fawn, named Jaromir, was taken to Silverthorne and disposed of, too painful of a reminder for Brismor of his beloved mate.
  Ratibor's bones still lie within the Widow's Hollow, a cursed reminder to all Blackwoods. Not even the wolves will touch the remains and Brismor can't bring himself to properly bury her for fear of her spirit.



Role Play

Affiliation: Blackwood
Herd Position: Witch, herbalist
Mate: General Brismor
Love Interests: General Brismor
Current Location: Blackwood; bones put to rest within the Whitepeak ranges



Skill Points


Speed: 2 [Basic Level] (Build Cap: 9 points max)
Stamina: 3 [Basic Level]
Strength: 5 [Basic Level]
Experience: 0

Fights/Battles
Total Won: 0/0

Magic Type: Black Magic - Necromancy [Inborn] 
Magic: 21 [Advanced Level]
Magic Type: Black Magic - Hexes and Curses [Learned]
Magic: 11 [Medium Level]

Herbs: 25 [Advanced Level]


Breakdown
+2 speed - base bonus
+3 stamina - base bonus
+5 strength - base bonus
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EDIT- FOUND - GM/ST does: need a foster mom!

Journal Entry: Thu Jul 17, 2014, 9:03 PM
 


:new: My little dude's foster mom has been chosen! It was an incredibly hard decision due to all the amazing applicants, and I thank you all for offering your gorgeous does to raise this broken spirit. The doe I chose was due to the herbal ability as well as the significance of her herd position that might cause a bit of stir in my boy's life. ;P

Thank you all again!


Hey baconlings! So I am trying for one of the fawns in the latest 2 week auction
Fawnling 759 Summer Fawn Art Auction by Ehetere

Let's just say my little fellow has a complicated birth/story to go along with it that lands him motherless and needs a foster mum from either Glenmore or Silverthorne! He's gonna need a foster mom that will take care of him until he turns into the roamer he eventually will be. A doe with lots of herb experience would be quite nice, he's going to be an herbalist and he needs to get influenced somehow! ;P :giggle:

 

Journal Skin By EcstaticDismay

deviantID

blaine-rr
Blaine
Artist | Hobbyist | Traditional Art
United States

THEY SAY EVERY ATOM IN OUR BODIES WAS ONCE PART
OF A STAR.
MAYBE I'M NOT LEAVING, MAYBE I'M
GOING HOME
{Vincent Freeman, Gattaca}



Arrow Spacer by blaine-rrArrow Spacer by blaine-rrArrow Spacer by blaine-rr

Words I'd Say Describe Me:
:bulletblack: Laid back
:bulletblack: Friendly
:bulletblack: Considerate
:bulletblack: Sarcastic
:bulletblack: Passionate
:bulletblack: Competitive



Thank You


In advance for all watches, favorites, and comments! You people are amazing!

i survived 2010 by NewAgeStablesi survived 2011 by NewAgeStablesi survived 2012 by MissDudettei survived 2013 by MissDudette

Webcam

I haven't done a show entry since November 2013 :stare: 

80%
4 deviants said I can't wait for summer show season!
20%
1 deviant said -breathes heavily-

Comments


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:iconneon-tiger-7:
Neon-Tiger-7 Featured By Owner Sep 22, 2014
thanks for the fav =)
Reply
:iconrosenwood-stables:
Rosenwood-Stables Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2014  New member
Hi there :D (Big Grin) You are a wonderful artist <3
I have just opened a new horse breed! rosenwood-stables.deviantart.c… I'd love to see the breed in your style, if you are interested I currently have some open imports here : rosenwood-warmblood.deviantart… . Customs are also availible at 30 points :) (Smile)Sorry if I have bothered you.
Reply
:iconblaine-rr:
blaine-rr Featured By Owner Sep 6, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Not a bother at all! Thank you for informing me!
Reply
:iconithilfaer:
IthilFaer Featured By Owner Aug 16, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks so much for the watch! :D
Reply
:iconblaine-rr:
blaine-rr Featured By Owner Aug 17, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
No problem! I thought I was already watching you and was shocked to see I wasn't. :giggle:
Reply
:iconithilfaer:
IthilFaer Featured By Owner Aug 20, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
:la: Naw! How sweet of you! Thanks so much though, I really hope my art finds it's way to your inbox and brings you joy! <3
Reply
:iconskyarrow:
SkyArrow Featured By Owner Jul 21, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for the :+fav:! :glomp:
Reply
:iconpainted-cowgirl:
painted-cowgirl Featured By Owner Jun 3, 2014
Stop changing your dang gone username. It's confusing. I still type in your first one half the time...
Reply
:iconblaine-rr:
blaine-rr Featured By Owner Jun 4, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
:giggle: I've wanted to make this change ever since you could change your username, so this is the last one. :giggle: The first time was an accident and the second time was to fix it. :lmao:
Reply
:iconpainted-cowgirl:
painted-cowgirl Featured By Owner Jun 4, 2014
but it's so weird lol, like hey Blaine herrrrr herrrrrr herrrr
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