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Gem for Your Thoughts?
Username: Melomar
Soquili Name: Bolor'kan
Meaning: crystal + blood
Formerly: Tsvetan'bolor (flower + crystal); Tsvetan
Personality and/or Plot Ideas:
Before:
Tsvetan was the firstborn son of his parents, but had a few seasons with his parents before any siblings were born, so he enjoyed the life of an only child before the responsibilities of the eldest child. He was fun-loving and intellectual. His passion was different kinds of stones and crystals, and the stories they told about the world around him. He became a crystal healer later on and added "bolor," meaning "crystal" to his name when he got his blessing from his teacher. Tsvetan'bolor became more reclusive when he let his studies become more of an obsession. By this time, he had several younger siblings and the youngest ones resented that he had spent much more time with their elder siblings than themselves. Oblivious to this state of affairs, he had no idea that his own actions had become a detriment to, and cause of a rift between, himself and his herd.

After:
The love for crystals persists as the powder takes effect, and Tsvetan'bolor becomes Bolor'kan. He wishes to corrupt the beautiful crystals he once cherished, and add a few bloody rings to the histories shown in the rock he once loved to "read." His desire for revenge is very new in this incarnation of Bolor'kan, but it only serves as a fuel for his new mission. He will not stop until his herd is completely eradicated, but that is only the beginning of the saga that will wash the land with blood.

Plots:
The mural of my life. He will find the filly that did this to him and "She will become foundation of my wall." It will be a mural of his victims, but only the most important ones. He would like to remember in great detail the highlights of his life. His parents will go there, his familiar Mathgavain (the bones will reveal much), his sisters, the ringleader of those who terrorized his End... and surely the list will continue.

Charmed. Twin sisters Marguerite and Marganita share a quest to charm their brother. He needs his soul back so that he can begin to atone for his wrongdoing. This story focuses more upon them but their success or failure in the face of their brother could be left up to chance. One sister wants to become a healer like her brother but using different methods. The other sister is a little angrier in personality and may become a champion for Darkness in the end. As for him being charmed, this could also be left up in the air. So they find an angeni willing to charm him? What lengths will he go to, to preserve his newfound... freedom?!

Tricks of the trade. A focus on his trade, working with crystals and other rocks. Before he is charmed his interests are purely selfish in nature. But what will he do if he becomes charmed and begins to crave interaction with other creatures-- beyond killing and/or eating them? He might become a trader, healer, cleanser (is that possible for the Cursed?), stone reader, or just a walking encyclopedia. And he may travel in search of newfound and rare stone and crystal.

Mourning. If he is charmed, surely he will mourn the loss of his better half, Mathgavain the bear. He was the cause, and the murderer besides. Though Math had tried to save him, his little sister, and all the other foals, he had fallen as the first victim in Bolor'kan's rampage. He will blame himself, of course, and feel remorse very deeply.

Who wants to read this garbage? So he seeks to read the earth's story. But what if he realized that others would like to know about it too? What if people wanted to know about him? A familiar with opposable thumbs either approaches him or is approached by him in order to help him to become a writer, specifically an autobiographer and gemologist.

History:

The leaves were beginning to turn. It was that time of year again: Halloween was fast approaching. The young foals were being trained in the time honored traditions by their elders. Some of the favorites included pulling pranks. Smashing pumpkins and papering the trees was not enough for everybody and some of the older foals put their heads together after a campfire that had ended in ghost stories. What kind of mischief could they get into that would really be fun? Funny? Remembered for years to come?

One small group of foals was already infamous. Some would call them sinister, others merely mischievous. But one filly by the name of Laelia was in the process of being hazed and bullied and she was hoping that her peers would give her a break soon. Very soon. Until then, her life made her feel downright haggard. She was going to be the sacrifice in another of the group's many pranks.

Everyone knew the Laelia's eldest brother had grown apart over the years. He was still a young stallion but he lived life like an elderly hermit. The group of foals had heard her complaints many times. Tsvetan'bolor used to play with her elder siblings, but not her. He had given them support, love, teamwork in games, and even things she could not list because they were feelings deep down that she did not fully understand. Things about families and siblings and feeling safe.

The ringleader of the group had a morbid fascination with skinwalkers. None of them really knew much about them other than that they were evil and scary. And that they had once been normal soquili. But everyone knew that the change came from using corpse powder. She fantasized about the possibilities. When she had decided, the troubled filly was given a task. Her friends gave her a bag of corpse powder, and Laelia was to take it to her brother and give it to him. Make him sorry for neglecting his family!

Honestly she thought that it must be a fake. Where would a foal find a bag of corpse powder? They had filled it with some fine sand and given it to her as a prank within a prank. How could she believe that they would actually give her brother real corpse powder? Even if it was real, he did not deserve to be punished like that. He deserved to feel remorse but not this way. She hedged and delayed until Halloween was upon them.

Tsvetan'bolor had hit a low point in his relationship with his parents. They did not exactly support his career choice, though they had encouraged it when it had simply been a hobby. They did not understand the secrets that stones of different kinds held, nor did they condone the use of crystals to heal. They were afraid of witchcraft and did not understand the difference between a good witch and a bad one. It all came down to understanding, and he knew it was a failure on his part that they could not understand, but he also did not understand. He couldn't understand why he wasn't welcome anymore. Why did he have to elect to stop seeing his parents and siblings anymore? It was not that he had been cast out, but whenever the subject of rock--any kind of rock talk-- came up, his parents silenced him. And so he had drifted away. Being near them had become too difficult. Too painful. What his siblings saw was an increasingly reclusive brother, but the truth was that his heart was breaking.

When he decided upon his path, he stuck to it, and when he had learned as much as he could learn alone, he left to seek out a master. He sought out a healer or shaman who would teach him the ways of magic with the crystal. In his search he met a bear named Mathgavain that seemed to understand him completely. They shared many long nights talking about the crystals, rocks, or even the stars-- off subject but above and surrounding them like a beautiful but chilly blanket. Then when they met the master they shared the training as partners. They both loved the same subject and it was only natural that they learn from the same teacher.

When he returned home, it was with his ursine companion, and they found a nice large cave to reside in together. It was so near to the herd that he sometimes saw the foals play from his front door. Or they tried to sneak up to the door when he wasn't looking then race back. He was the local hermit to all but himself and Mathgavain, and therefore scary and grumpy and smelly and all the other things children think of when the word "hermit" is mentioned.

Then one day, the dried leaves rattled along the ground like little wheels of flame. The wind carrying them whistled through the branches and moaned between the ears. Tickling wind caught in Tsvetan'bolor's mane and slapped it against his neck and stung his cheeks. Mathgavain had gone out foraging for his pre-hibernation fare, so it was just Tsvetan'bolor at the cave today. He peered outside and saw his youngest sister for the first time in over a month. She had grown so much. Laelia shivered even though it was not very cold. The wind had a bite, but it was probably the warmest day they would see until Spring.

"What brings my littlest sister on this fine autumn day?" he asked warmly.

For her, it was as if no time had passed at all. His smile was infectious and one tugged at the corners of her mouth. Laelia had forgotten, but they shared a small mark on their faces and she saw it now. Tsvetan'bolor asked if Laelia would prefer to stay outside or go into his cave for some herbal tea. "My master sent it to me." She couldn't stand it. This was not right. Not that she had the authority or right to say what was. She shivered from her head to her hooves and tail. Even though it was fake, she could not do this to him!

Then, just as she was about to flee with the fake corpse powder, her brother saw the bag sitting between her fore-hooves. "What's this, a gift? You are so thoughtful."

"Ye--" She was petrified. At first she couldn't move, but she screamed in her mind. Then: "N-no! I've changed my mind! Give it back!"

Truly puzzled, Tsvetan'bolor scoffed and said with a mouthful of bag, "It's all righ'. I won' tell Mo' an' Da'"

"Stop!" She shrieked.

Suddenly they were surrounded by her so-called friends. Where had they come from? They started jeering and chanting. "Corpse powder, corpse powder!"

"What's this about?"

"No!" Laelia leapt and caught the bottom of the bag with her teeth and landed flat on her belly. A cloud of powder went up. A bear roared and thundered up to the cave, and the filly screamed again. From the pack of foals, silhouettes could be seen of the stallion and his bear familiar fighting; Laelia was nowhere to be seen. Unbelievably, Tsvetan'bolor knocked Mathgavain over and nothing more could be seen. The bear roared again and a horrible cold snap! could be heard, then crunching, wet noises. The cloud seemed to shrink, inhaled by the creature standing where the soquili and bear had been. At his feet was the mangled, still-bleeding form of what was left of the bear.

"It was real!"

The foals scattered, but not fast enough. The creature, some mixture of the equine and ursine, leapt over the bear's peltless body. "Come play, littlest sister."