A semi-realistic, semi-literate RP of humans, horses. Two ranches compete to have the best horses on their lots.
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» Daemon Davis.
Tue Apr 28, 2015 4:45 pm by Corvus


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 Daemon Davis.

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Posts : 14
Join date : 2015-04-24

PostSubject: Daemon Davis.   Tue Apr 28, 2015 4:45 pm

B.A.S.I.C  I.N.F.O


Daemon Davis









Works as a bartender.

P.E.R.S.O.N.A.L  I.N.F.O


Daemon is mischievous and romantic type. He's dark minded, crude, harsh tongued and can be sarcastic at times. He is known to sleep around and to play with girls minds. Snarky and rather sure of himself, Daemon isn't the kind of guy anyone would expect to fall in love or care about something. He's distant and has a hard barrier around himself making it hard for anyone to get to know him.  Though deep down inside Daemon can be caring, loving and kind - it just takes a person willing to wait to bring out his playfulness.


A tall, dark haired, pale skinned male. Daemon is considered by most to be 'emo' or 'gothic' but he is neither, his style and choice of clothing relies on no titles.  His eyes appear to be almost 'coal' black but are actual a dark almond brown. He has shaggy black hair that just barely touches his shoulder.


◘ Horses - Daemon's love for horses started at an early age, without a place to call home, he was passed from foster home to foster home each being in a different setting. The only one he reacted to positively was the one where he was able to interact with horses. At age 20 he bought is first horse and gave it the name Corvus.

◘ The Ocean - a calming place to be. the sound of the water, the feeling of the ocean spray hitting your face and the sand between your toes.

◘ Reading - One thing that is able to take you to another world. You are able to imagine yourself as one of the characters and pretend everything is okay for a while. Feel the love each family has, the excitement, etc.

◘ Cats - Daemon has a love for all cats and the love started when he first adopted an old ally cat he named "Poe". He now owns a small kitten named 'Angel'


◘ People - Daemon has always preferred animals over people. His mistrust of people started when he was taken out of his home when he was five after being brutally beat by his mother's boyfriend. Afterwards he began to act out violently towards other people or he would withdraw from others.

◘ Sirens - Sirens of police/firetrucks/ambulances are ear-piercing and tend to leave his ears ringing

◘ Being touched - Ever since that night his mother's boyfriend beat him, he's always shied away from people who come at him. The only time he is ever okay with it is when he gives the okay or knows they aren't going to try something.  


◘ His love for animals.
◘ Talent for drawing/writing.
◘ Independence. 


◘ Socializing.
◘ Being able to trust someone. {Mistrust for others} 
◘ Finding someone to trust/love/relate to. 



All stories have a beginning and an end. Some start off like a fantasy and end in tragedy, others well, others begin with tragedy and end in some sort of fantasy. Mine didn't start exactly like either of those, in the mind of others it may have been perfect 'storybook' material and it certainly hasn't ended yet.
My story doesn't start on the day I was born, it starts way before that.  My mother was young, a sixteen year old female that belonged to a wealthy family and a long line of family members who had attended some of the best colleges across the world.  She was one that could always spot the 'good' in someone even if that someone had no good in them, one of these people was my father, a rough eighteen year old boy that had to concept of the word love, he was hard to get along with and did all sorts of things including impregnanting my mother. Once he found out he tucked his tail quicker then he penatrated my poor mother, my grandparents on the other hand were so ashamed that they kicked her out, my grandmother fell ill and refused to eat -as she had lost her own daughter.
The night I was born is considered to be an evil night, a night that the Devil himself and his hoards of demons walked the earth. A night that ghosts, gouls, and black cats meant something... Friday the 13th, it was a frigid night and a night to remember, since my mom had no place to go the nurses wanted to take me away but unfortunately didn't have the authority they let her keep me.
After a few days of having me she had found herself a new 'Bo' and moved me and herself into his trailer or what he called his 'man-cave'.  At first everything was fine and we settled down quickly and by the age of four I was able to pretty much take care of myself, I knew how to make a hotdog or even hot-cereal and by the age of five I was being left along for days on end.
One night in March my mothers bo came home drunker then a skunk and when he couldn't find my mother he started questioning me, calling me the 'sluts good for nothing son' and demanding that I tell him where she was and when I wasn't able to respond the next thing I felt was a sharp pain and i was on the ground staring up at him then it went dark.
That was the last thing I can remember about that night and when I woke up i wasn't in my own bed but in a hospital bed a week and a half later, startled I sat up only to be cooed by a soft voice whom I thought to be my mothers but was only a nurse, a soft sweet smile touched her lips -it said "Poor thing, rest now".
On the third day after I had woke up three men and the nurse entered my room. 
"Darling boy, these men are here to take you home"
But what I thought was home wasn't really my home. 
Days turned into months and months into years and like all kids I grew, now at age 15 I had been in more then twenty different homes and been in juvy detention three different times for petty theft and car theft. It was on my sixteenth birthday that I was sent to a small family ranch, the couple was old and had no children of there own but considered all of their horses, cows, goats, and chickens to be their children.
It took a while for me to settle in to a new place with different surroundings, noises, and a new schedual, for awhile I was distant and rather until the old man intruced me to an old mare that now only roamed the pastures. Ginger, was the name of the horse and before living her she to went form home to home experiencing different lives and how each place treated.  It was then that I began to change and grow closer with the couple who soon adopted him as their son.
At age 18 I attained a colt from one of the old mans mares as a birthday present and in all honest that was the best present any one had ever given me.
Now at age 24 I work as a bartender to keep my house and cat happy as well as my horse, Corvus.
Well this is my life and honestly, I wouldn't change a thing.



.:Significant Other:.



None that he knows of.

Picture (Optional) WIP

E.X.T.R.A  I.N.F.O


6year old black and white overo stallion paint horse.
Western riding.
Stabled at Creek Side Ranch.

5month old calico female cat.

.:Secret Phrase:.
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