Leicester
An alaricorn, the offspring of a unicorn and a pegasus, an equine bearing both the horn of a unicorn and the wings of a pegasus.
Except when it doesn’t work out that way.
Meet Leicester (pronounced like Lester, or just Les for short). His parents were a unicorn and a pegasus, but he inherited his mother’s lack of wings and father’s lack of a horn. Genetics just kind of does that sort of thing every so often.
There are any number of things one might expect for such a mundane result of a mythical couple: Resentment at not being gifted so, tendencies toward withdrawing from the teasing or bullying of being “just a horse”, fear of predatory sorts as a result of a lack of the defenses that should have been his birthright, or even a driven relentlessness to make up for these shortcomings; it all seems reasonable, no? But that’s not who Leicester is.
Sure, the pure white coat and golden blond mane and tail he inherited are striking, but he himself is hardly imposing at two inches shy of six feet in height. He rarely carries himself at that height, however, normally seen in a careless sort of slouch that makes him seem even less imposing than that. The lack of his parents’ mythical features also translates to lowered expectations of him, and he rarely feels the need to push himself beyond them. He’s neither muscular nor scrawny, neither boisterous nor withdrawn, and neither bully nor pushover; those who mistake his quiet friendliness and accommodating nature for weakness or timidity are frequently surprised when he calmly but firmly stands up for himself. He can’t perform magic or fly, and while Les occasionally laughingly refers to himself as a “nullicorn”, he long ago came to terms with the fact that he’s a horse.
…Mostly.
Although he may not have inherited the outward appearances of his parents, Leicester’s mythical nature manifests itself in much the way he does, in quiet and unassuming ways. He may not have a horn to focus magic through, but there’s an odd magicalness about him that’s hard to properly pin down. It mostly manifests as almost impossible luck when he’s in a mess that isn’t really his own doing. The other thing Les inherited is an almost uncanny sense of spacial awareness and seemingly preternatural awareness of his surroundings — exactly the sort of thing that’s necessary for flying, particularly in a herd — to the point that he’s nearly impossible to sneak up on.
(Okay, on with the vore stuff and preferences. Yes, Leicester is predatory. Yes, Leicester is prey. He’s intended almost exclusively for willing scenes, not being the sort who would eat someone against their will while being very difficult to even get hold of if he isn’t willing himself. Soft vore is overwhelmingly preferred. Oral vore, digestion, and reformation are all required: I’m not a fan of other types of vore; endo is, for whatever ridiculous reason, the one impossibility among the many that vore presents where my brain refuses to continue processing willing suspension of disbelief; and reformation is an effect of his magical side. Sex isn’t likely to be a focus of mine outside the context of fondling, groping, or tasting during eating (of which I am extremely fond). I won’t play with underage characters. I don’t do scat or watersports, and asking about either will get you blocked on the spot. Male or female predators and prey are both welcome, though I’ll admit from the outset that I have a notable predatory leaning with a preference toward female prey. I’m generally not a fan of roleplaying with other genders (and I promise I mean no disrespect to any enbies with that). Humans and demi-humans do not interest me, with female prey characters being rare exceptions.)
(Also, “alaricorn” is apparently an acceptable term for a winged unicorn. In the most technical sense, “alicorn” refers specifically to a unicorn’s horn. Fun little tidbit I dug up while typing out the profile. The more you know!)