Brisket
Jun 17, 2020 21:22:22 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jun 17, 2020 21:22:22 GMT -5
Name: Brisket
Species: Minotaur
Age: Old enough
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Well, Junior, sometimes a mommy human likes a daddy bull very much, and then nine months later, people like Brisket happen.
That’s what the mythology says, anyway.
Brisket doesn’t actually recall anything about his mother or his father, so he can’t exactly clarify the situation, but where he grew up, he certainly wasn’t the only minotaur around. Back when there were enough of them to form a proper herd, he wasn’t even a particularly noteworthy one. Standing at a little under two and a half meters in height (maybe 8 feet or so), and built like a brick house, he’s fairly average for a minotaur. Body that’s more or less man shaped (but mostly muscle shaped), head of a bull, hooves, tail, you know the drill.
He’s certainly… hairier… than seems to be average for your classic Greek-style minotaurs. Rather than simply having some black fur on his head and shoulders, Brisket is covered head to toe in thick, coarse, fluffy, red-gold fur, long enough to cover his dark eyes if he doesn’t keep it pinned back. To keep it contained (and maybe just for fun), it’s crisscrossed with little braids, some dangling, some close to the skin. His horns are a dull pale bone color, turned up at the points, and are rarely polished, though they’re occasionally adorned with rings or flowers.
Though he looks like a gigantic hairy fist with pointy bits up top, he moves surprisingly quickly, and with a lot more dexterity than you’d expect. Those big coarsely callused hands are very gentle when they want to be.
Personality:
Everyone knows that minotaurs are meant for one purpose- charging into battle, like a bull in a china shop (ba dum tish), and breaking every bone that crosses their paths. It’s what their bodies are built for. They are weapons of war, and it’s very, very easy for them to hurt people.
Brisket has hurt a lot of people.
The world has asked him for blood, and for chains, and for war, and for killing, but all Brisket ever asked for in return was peace. For many years he clung to the dream of a quiet place, where he could hear the wind and birdsong, and walk through whispering wheat fields at harvest time, and taste honey and heather and spring grass, and never have to hurt anyone again. Even after escaping the kingdom that enslaved him, this dream was not an easy one to pursue, but then there was this portal thing, and everything got a little… weyrd.
For all that he’s a giant hairy mass of meat, Brisket is, at his core, a gentle man with a good heart. And now that he’s finally able to put his weapons down for good, he hopes to be a better one.
Species: Minotaur
Age: Old enough
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Well, Junior, sometimes a mommy human likes a daddy bull very much, and then nine months later, people like Brisket happen.
That’s what the mythology says, anyway.
Brisket doesn’t actually recall anything about his mother or his father, so he can’t exactly clarify the situation, but where he grew up, he certainly wasn’t the only minotaur around. Back when there were enough of them to form a proper herd, he wasn’t even a particularly noteworthy one. Standing at a little under two and a half meters in height (maybe 8 feet or so), and built like a brick house, he’s fairly average for a minotaur. Body that’s more or less man shaped (but mostly muscle shaped), head of a bull, hooves, tail, you know the drill.
He’s certainly… hairier… than seems to be average for your classic Greek-style minotaurs. Rather than simply having some black fur on his head and shoulders, Brisket is covered head to toe in thick, coarse, fluffy, red-gold fur, long enough to cover his dark eyes if he doesn’t keep it pinned back. To keep it contained (and maybe just for fun), it’s crisscrossed with little braids, some dangling, some close to the skin. His horns are a dull pale bone color, turned up at the points, and are rarely polished, though they’re occasionally adorned with rings or flowers.
Though he looks like a gigantic hairy fist with pointy bits up top, he moves surprisingly quickly, and with a lot more dexterity than you’d expect. Those big coarsely callused hands are very gentle when they want to be.
Personality:
Everyone knows that minotaurs are meant for one purpose- charging into battle, like a bull in a china shop (ba dum tish), and breaking every bone that crosses their paths. It’s what their bodies are built for. They are weapons of war, and it’s very, very easy for them to hurt people.
Brisket has hurt a lot of people.
The world has asked him for blood, and for chains, and for war, and for killing, but all Brisket ever asked for in return was peace. For many years he clung to the dream of a quiet place, where he could hear the wind and birdsong, and walk through whispering wheat fields at harvest time, and taste honey and heather and spring grass, and never have to hurt anyone again. Even after escaping the kingdom that enslaved him, this dream was not an easy one to pursue, but then there was this portal thing, and everything got a little… weyrd.
For all that he’s a giant hairy mass of meat, Brisket is, at his core, a gentle man with a good heart. And now that he’s finally able to put his weapons down for good, he hopes to be a better one.
