x Species | ‘Horsaroo'
x Hybrid | Red Kangaroo x Australian Brumby
x Gender | Male
x Age | 4 years (Tallsun)
x Physiology (horse) | head, neck, mane, shoulders, middle (body), foreleg length
x Physiology (roo) | ears, hindquarters, feet, toes, tail, foreleg structure/movement, hands, claws
x Colouring | Mealy chestnut
x Eyes | Eucalyptus green
x Height | 16 hands high
x Length | 5.3 feet (not including tail)
x Mane | Flaxen with chestnut roots; mid-length
x Markings | Pangaré; barring above knees (forelegs)
x Pouch | Concealed slit across mid-belly near hind legs; large enough to carry a small foal, joey or the equivalent in items
x Voice | Stine
x Smell | Dusty, faint eucalyptus
x Religion | Spirits and ancestors
x Wears | Cork hat (this) and Bandana (this)

x Genetic Mutation | Ability to have third active magic
x Genetic Mutation | Ability to bond with two companions
x Genetic Mutation | Second companion magic

The lads back home call me Banj and I look like a right silly bugger, I get it. The story of my making goes something like this…

Four or so years ago, under the sway of a full autumn moon, a right larrikin roo had been on the turps for most’ve the night. Pissed as a fart and toier, than a roman sandal, he started for home - but along the way went walkabout. Beer goggles strapped to his face, the plastered ol' red fella failed to notice the point’v difference in make-up between one shit hot sheila and himself. Turns out she was quite a bit more neddie than roo!

A few seasons down the track I appeared, and knocked the bloody socks clean off ‘em… I’ve reached man-hood at sixteen hands at the wither with an extra few inches to the top curve’v my butt - that’s a pretty big ass don’t ya reckon, haha! Never mind the bulk up back though, its all lean, mean, ripped-roo-power, with a wicked ass tail for bonus balance, and agility to boot. I reckon I’d have a six-pack too if Mum’d been the boinger! For a bit’v fun too, there’s a pouch in my guts - it’d be a bonza feature, mate, if I could actually reach the little bugger. Reckon I could stuff a whole bandicoot in there too, if I had one, ha. Anyhoo, up front looks more like you more traditional blokes - horsey and stuff - slim, sleek and surefooted for super duper stamina. Instead of hooves, there are claws! I got a queer ol' dust-drumming gait down there too. It’s a fast, bounding, three-beat sprint, with turbo-charged-spring-legs courtesy of the old fella. At a snail’s pace and when I’m catching a bite to eat, I like to take the load off sitting down on the old truss-tail - it’s fit as a Mallee bull.

Even though I stand out like a dunny in the desert, I’m pretty sweet with the way I look - she’s apples, mate! There’s a full head’v hair on this schmick head, with dirty ol' roots and snowy tips, and it all runs right down to the top point of me shoulders. If you're thinking I couldn’t get a kick in a stampede, checkout this coat - bet ya can’t even find where one half of me stops and the other one starts. It’s beaut, sun-kissed bronze mostly, but the legs need a touch more baking for sure. Someone once said my eyes mirror the bush, bright harlequin opals, rust-red and green. If you look close enough you’ll find a bit’v that rough, true blue cheek too. The lads back home say I’m a lady-killer, haha! I like to woo the sheilas with a cute wink and charming smile. I haven’t got tickets on myself, but I figure I have natural appeal y’know. Ridgie-didge and cool as a cucumber - like a possum up a gum tree. Got a few handy lines when I’m out and about too, this here fella’s cunning as a dunny rat. Alright, get this…

…Can I didgeridoo you? [wink]

…I wanna get lost in ya Outback. [suave grin]

…If you were a booga, I'd pick you!

Well not that last one mate, hahaha, get ya laughing gear ‘round that!

Anyhoo, back on track. Bloody hay-fever puts me on my ass every spring in the bush, nothing else does the head in like that old tosser. I scrub daily, sometimes twice, coz no body in their right mind likes a smelly bugger. Perfume’s for the ladies though, wouldn’t catch me dead in it - I got a pure outback whiff about me anyway, the snazzy stink of eucalyptus with a hint of desert dry - fair dinkem! There’s a few odds and ends I lug ‘round too. This hat with corks to keep the buzzers at bay, and my old bandana is the best of them.

x The Red Kangaroo is the largest living marsupial and can grow to two metres (!). It weighs up to 90 kg (200 pounds). x Top speed: over 60 km/h (close to 40 mph). A Red Kangaroo can leap eight metres far (25 feet) and three metres (10 feet) high!
x At normal hopping speed they would cover more like 1.5-2 metres or 5-6 feet in a leap, at a speed of about 25 km/h or 15 mph.
x Banjo can leap up to seven metres far and two metres high. Not agile at low speed.
x Can make very limited hops backwards when fighting, cannot do so as a means of locomotion.
x Cannot move legs independently unless walking, turning or swimming - anything else greatly resembles a hare in motion.
x The large and strong tail is used for balance when hopping, and as fifth limb when moving about on all four legs.
x The powerful hind legs with their long sharp toenails are a dangerous weapon. Kangaroos can disembowel opponents, be it other kangaroos or predators like dingos.

Don’t be too fast to knock what you see, there’s more to me than meets the eye.

I’m a quirky kinda fella with a sweet as sense of humour and I can spin a beaut yarn. There’s always more than one way to skin a cat though - I mean, there’s a softer, lovey-dovey side to me. In my spare time I’m off running a muck with the mates. I love to act the goat and play funny buggers y’know, more front than a continent’s coastline they say, with the gift of the gab. I call a spade a spade when it’s called for though - I’m genuine, fair and mostly moral. In regards to authority, I reckon I have a healthy respect - straighty-one-eighty, yep, your looking square at him. Out in the bush, some folks are crooked as a dog’s back leg. I’m not usually the thieving sort m’self, wouldn't catch me nicking something that wasn’t mine or starting a blue for no good reason - ‘round the chicks I’m placid as a dump in the rain. What goes around comes round is the theory I like to go by.

Anyone that feels the same is cool by me.

Despite these smokin’ hot looks, haha, you might be surprised to learn I’m not the one night stand type - and that’s completely aside from the old anatomical positioning, if you get me (I prefer the pony type after all). Girls are a bit of fun, sure, but you gotta treat them well. I believe in true love, love at first sight and all that corny as hell stuff, sure. That’s probably half the reason I’m still flaunting bachelor-hood - I’ve got a soul mate floating around out there somewhere. Blind as a bat’s the guess, ha, wouldn’t they have to be? Aside from that crap, this sheila will love my patriotism - the scarf I’m wearing’s a prime example. I’d definitely throw m’self into battle to defend things important to me, I’ve done it before. Self-sacrifice for the greater good, the little guy - the battler. Too right I’d never be afraid to speak up if I thought some jerk needed a boot up the ass - everyone’s entitled to their own opinions, no wuckers, as long as it isn’t causing damage. We’re all equal in this life - squeakers to squawkers, fur and fins… even the fatheaded tools among us.

The lads call me a ratbag, and I kinda agree. I’m not a worry wart at all, pretty much nothing phases a guy like me. My greatest asset, I suppose, is my strength of character. What you see is what you get, no short cuts. Its also my biggest downfall in a way coz some get my style, and others get their knickers in a knot over it - I can’t blame them. We are all individual after all. I wouldn’t say I think with my head or heart, I’m a bit more impulsive, diving in before testing the water - confident. That’s not a bad thing at all either, I’ve had some ripper adventures and met some top folks along the way - suppose you could say I’m an extrovert, and that helps. You bet I have a ton of mates and find it pretty sinch to make em. I don’t really like time alone - that’s when thoughts run rampant, kid ya not. Guess you could call me a leader rather than a follower too. I’m not the doormat you wipe your hooves on, though I find it easy enough to go with the flow if someone else’s feeling boss. I forgive easily and there aren’t many buggers after my ass - rivalry is awesome though, everyone likes a shot of feisty testosterone through their veins. Win or lose, competition is good for the soul.

One of these days I’ll find the girl’v me dreams to settle down with and maybe even pop a kid with. I don’t mind wriggly little rugrats - I wonder just what one of mine might look like, right? Hahaha. She’d definitely be a looker, a hottie, not that I’m shallow or anything, I just have good taste mate! That’d be one of a bunch of life goals that I’m in no hurry to kick. I need to find a pad, get some new bros and do some more exploring before anything else - when I’m dead, every tom, dick n harry will know me as the fair dinkum one, a top notch bloke!

Pretty damn sure I was an accident, haha. Mum’s a horse like I mentioned yonks ago - the plain old feral sort from out back, about as tall as the front part of me, with a smashing golden coat and long blonde hair. Can hardly blame the old man really, though she’s one sammich short of a picnic, but she was quite the catch! Anyway, he’s a big ass red roo with the wickedest six pack ever, bloody buff as, and top dick in his mob. None of the other bush blokes can beat him yet - well, maybe sept yobbo Baz from out back of beyond, there have been a few whopping barneys between them for sure.

My folks made another whoopsie a few years back, if you're catching what I’m throwing, though there really wasn’t anything accidental about her - little Matilda she was called. Tilda looked almost same as me, of course haha, but pretty as a winter wattle blooming and still sweeter too. We spent every waking second together, sun up to sun down. I was teaching her everything I knew - coz mum’s a bit of a twit, no offence. Me and the kid had some bloody bonze adventures…

Right up until her first birthday.

Me and Tilda were up at sparrow’s fart that day, she couldn’t sleep, had probably been awake the whole night too I guess. I’d told her when she was little, that we’d climb the tallest, meanest mountain in the bush, old Jindalee, when she’d done some growing - she figured her first birthday meant breaking out of childhood bless her. She was always eager like that, ‘brazen minded’ the old man said. She was the purest of us all.

So, that morn we got busy climbing that wicked bump so I could give her the best sunrise around. That kid loved the colours of each new day and the view up top, I always knew, would taker her breath away - I wasn’t fussed much, nature’s nature, right?

I’d gone up so many times before. It was as familiar to me as the hairs right there on my snout - each rock, track… hell, if a bandicoot farted I’d have probably known which little bastard let it slip! That’s why I wasn’t paying much attention to the path and just what - or who, was flat out across it. There was fog ‘round too, a real pea souper, and it made seeing anything fairly impossible anyway - I was distracted. Tilda was frothing at the mouth with excitement. How could’ve I been focused on anything but her! Mum wouldn’t agree.

And we snuck right up on that little asshole apparently…

The taipan was just lying there, still as a bush stone curlew, and practically invisible against the sticks and leaves on that track. Snakes are worse still than the winged, bloodthirsty demons that hum about in the night - lethal, and that’s what we quickly found out. Poor kid was stumbling in agony before I could even blink. By the time that nasty, slithery, scaly body had caught my eye it was way too late. Tilda was gone, and it was my fault.

Something a heart broken mare would never let me forget.

Mum didn’t even need to say anything after, it was the dull ache in her eyes, the grief stricken pinch from then on etched into her nose. Maybe only a month or so later I was on my way and I doubt I’ll ever go back.

Who knows who me grandies are, I’ve got no bloody idea, but I can say theres a few hundred aunts and uncles on Dad’s side - like flaming rabbits they are. Hmm, there’s a few on Mum’s too but I’ll be stuffed if I can name’m all.

They're all pretty spiritual and stuff, the folks back home… everyone in the bush is. Right at the start, a bunch of ancestral beings were created by the Spirit of Life for the purpose of making the cosmos. We can see those guys all ‘round us and remember the things that’v happened through stories like this…

In the beginning, the earth was completely black and quiet, and nothing moved on its boring, flat surface. The Spirit of Life fished a big red rock out of an hole under the ground and told him to stir the universe to life. The rock woke up, emerging from his cave, and when he opened his eyes the darkness pissed off, and scorching, golden light spread across the land, fertilising it. He farted and the atmosphere changed; the air shivered as a great wind blew - just joshin ya, hahaha. He took his first breath, then all the rest of that happened…

The soil held the seeds n stuff of all creatures, and wherever the Sun's scorching rays touched the earth, grasses, shrubs and trees grew until the land was covered in foliage. In each of the deep caverns beneath, there he found little living critters which had been sleeping like he had, for a bloody long time. His light made it impossible for bugs and creepy crawlies to keep snoring, so they woke up and spread out like the plague through the bush. Then he woke the slimy snakes, lizards, and other cold blooded devils, and they slithered and skittered out to tan their scaly hides. As the snakes moved through and along the earth they left ditches, and then themselves became Ancestral Beings like the Sun. Behind those slippery little suckers, mighty rivers spewed, crawling with all kinds of fish and other weirdo water-lovers. Then he called for the warm blooded animals to wake and make their homes on the dirt and in the sticks.

One day while all the earth’s creatures were gawking, the Sun travelled far in the sky to the west and, as the heavens burnt red, he sank from view, and darkness ate the land once more.

Typical they were thinking, yeah?

Nah, the creatures were frightened and huddled together like little wusses. Some time later, light began to peek over the horizon to the east and the Sun rose grinning into the sky again. He gave all the animals and insects night to rest in by making that same trip each day after.

There’s also the Spirit of Death… From what I understand, one day when shit shuts down, my purpose will be to rot, feed the earth, and more or less make space for the next guy. It’s the cycle of life which is sweet mate, but I heard about that monster (the Spirit of Death) on the grapevine, and apparently he’s pretty brutal, ay. Watch ya back, ha! Otherwise, I don’t really believe in miracles or luck, everyone’s card is drawn at the get go n that’s the way it is.

I’m an early summer baby, supposed to have flown the coop with the rest’v them no doubt. Something this creative needs baking to perfection though, y’see, you can’t hurry these things. The first home I ever knew was fifty k’s south of whoop whoop. Damn swell place too. Stinks of dust and eucalyptus, and is dry as a dead dingo’s donga. It either floods or burns out there in summer - six to one, half a dozen to the other chance of either, freezes in winter and blooms like nothing else come spring time.

HELOVIA
Beyond the black stump Banjo descends upon the threshold forest of Helovia, a new and foreign land, and finds himself in the company of the lovely , pegasus mare Lyanna. She is the first of her kind that the buck has ever encountered and he is immediately intrigued about the nature of her origin. It isn't long before the pair are joined by Ashamin the Clovenheart, a unicorn stallion, and his following of queer deer-folk. He takes a keen liking to the painted bachelor and agrees to join his band, The Unbound.
Each moment here with you Despite his interest in the north-eastern area of the strange new world (the relative comfort in familiarity), Banjo's feet begin to itch and he finds himself upon the far western coastline ion the strange Helovian wilderness. There he meets the very charming Brisa (or Breez, the name he prefers) with her unusual pet ‘kitsune’, Hikari. As dusk falls like a curtain across their backs, she mentions sleeping in the open and Banjo quickly suggests they spend the night camping out - in the name of fun and adventure of course.
It's a jungle out there Together he and Brisa wander into the region of the Secret Grove and entertain one another - most remarkably with tricks, or magic, she explains. The buck promptly realised that wings and horns are the least incredible thing about Helovia as his new friend is engulfed (but not destroyed) by flames.
A tart trap On the way 'home' to Ashamin's pad, actually the Threshold, Banjo finds (to his great amusement), that he'd become the subject of wicked little filly's prank... (Larue)
A mother's plead Again on familiar turf in the old redwood forest marking Helovia’s boarder, Banjo strikes up conversation with a newcomer like himself, Chaska (Chaz). Ashamin soon joins them, putting an end to the horsaroo's search, and the trio soon becomes four, as Vu makes a brief appearance. An invitation is extended to Chaska to join their small band, The Unbound, and he accepts.
Wrap your arms around me Comes upon an antlered girl in the Threshold… (Adelis)
Of earth an folly born Banjo strays south, driven to explore and finds two fillies and a cave… (Hollow and Hera)
Whadya call a lazy joey? A pouch potato...! Weeks later, the buck takes to the north to rid himself of a fierce headache and comes across a curious mountain path. He decides to investigate… (Sielu)
The un-luck of the white stag (Leif, Elspeth, Thranduil in the Threshold)…
I'll tell you I’ve changed (Pythia in the Threshold)
x

Like a pet?

That'd be neat!

I'll do heaps of sweet ass stuff just need to get warmed up,…

Quests and drops
Thread | Sought | Received/Refused
Thread | Sought | Received/Refused

Win some, lose some
Thread | Opponent | Win/Loss
Thread | Opponent | Win/Loss

Reference by Name
Image 1 by KTLasair ~ thank you Smitty
Image 2 by Riven
Image 3 by Name
Image 4 by Name
Image 5 by Name
Avatar stock by Nemo's great uncle