Post by .cay on May 20, 2011 21:41:54 GMT -7
Full Name: Apocalyptic Mystic Desire
Nickname: Casire
Age: 2
Species: Wolf
Breed: Grey Wolf
Pelt/Hide Colour: Pure White
Eye Colour: Purple
Gender: Stag
Personality: I keep to myself. I don't like conversing with the other wolves, because quite frankly, they bore me. I am bored with all the looks they give me. I don't care anymore, if I annoy, bug, freak out, scare, remind them. Whatever; they can deal with their oen ghosts. I was isolated until just recently, so I don't know them. I don't look like anyone in my family: my mum was black pelted, my grandfather dark brown pelted. My mum said my dad was a beautiful gold, but I guess everything that glitters... If there's one thing that I hate, it's the lite wolves. The stupid beings that dare call themselves wolves, that walk on the sun-dappled eternal pawgrounds. It makes me sick. If I could, I would tear every single one of them apart and let their blood soak the natural Omega-accursed ground below us all. My mother didn't like my worldviews; this is probably why she kicked me out. She said I sounded too much like my great-grandfather, and that his scandal tore apart the family and even more of the world with bloody precision. She said my ideologies were too close to his, and she wouldn't risk what he had given to the world happening with me. What was that? I didn't care. She never told me much, but I don't miss her for what she did. Her stupid neutrality put up barriers everytime we talked. I hate that, indecisiveness that some wolves seem to have. I live with the shadows instead, for they are always the same. The shadows are my children, my mother and father, my brother and sister, my lover. They twirl about me like children, playing in my pawsteps, and swirl and probe in my soul in their sickly-sweet, gentle caresses. The shadows are my soul, and I wouldn't have it any other way. One day I will fade into nothingness and into those shadows, in ecstasy. Until then, I will prove myself to all the non-believers. Now that I know my history, I am prepared. You think you have seen terror? Imagine him on fresh paws. Before my life is snuffed out on this worldly candle, I will make my mark.
History: The first memory I have is of my grandfather-- he was a scary and predominant figure in my life. He used to say the only reason that he stayed with my mum was because my deadbeat dad left us when we were still in my mothers' womb. But I could see, even then, the way he watched so carefully over her. Like he was afraid to lose her-- afraid to touch her, break her. I didn't understand then. How could I? As I grew older, my grandfather became more and more daunting. Finally, one day, when I was just over a year, he took me aside. Perhaps he saw potential in my vicious agressivness. He sat me down on my snow white haunches, and stared deep into my violet eyes. What he saw staring back at him, I could never know. After a while, I shifted on my feet, eager to hear what he had to tell but slowly losing patience. It was then that he spoke. He told me of a wondrous snowy wolf, who stepped down from the moon to grace the earth with his queen of spices. They pupped and spawned a wolf who had amythyst in his eyes. He took the mantle of Omega and tore through the world, ceasing life where his paws fell. When he finally met a she-wolf who appealed to him in the strangest way possible, he too, gave birth to his own hell-raisers. The spawn of the devill-lupine was a far, far, far cry from his lite grandfather, who watched from his pawhold in the second world with disapproval howling from his every expression. This new pup was evil incarnate: Everything he saw he killed. Including his own family. He paused for a moment in telling his story, and with an in-lupine hiss he glared at me with flaming eyes. I flinched, but did not shrink away. He had always been a little off. Then, he said something I'll never forget. You have the blood of Omega in you, the devil himself. Take the blood that soaks my claws, and bear life from it. Keep your Sire's forth into your new life. I understood then how in fear my mother had been, and why. Instantly curious, I begged to stay, but she intervened at possibly the cost of her life and had my brothers drive me away. Who cares? I know what I need to. I didn't need to stay in their silly little family group. Let them rot. I am who I am now.
Sample Post: Tender and eloquent, I ghost about the atrocious landscape. How was it my destiny would lead me here? The desolate art form was twisted and grotesque, lingering on like a soul who had slaughtered a lifetime of peace. Shattering were each of my steps, as I press onward in the unrelenting new frontier. Yet still, my thought were malingering; how could this be where my life would play out? As much as the isolation attracted me, I could find no solace in a long life in peace, alone, with no one to maim or destruct. Also, yet, I knew that I could not leave the earthly terrace without first endeavouring to engage with another, slightly effeminate lupe, who I must conquer in a well enough manner so as to pass along my genetics. I need a son, this I know, to continue the destruction amon this earth as my forefathers have done so before me. There would be nothing as tragic as a line as great as ours, simply, dying out because the candle had no oxygen left to burn. No, I would continue our fury for many generations to come. Suddenly, I am faced with the scent of another; but my body is instantly aquiver, violently shaking as I snarled from tail to toe. This was a light terrace... and I could smell the vile threat in the back of my mouth all the way to my soul. They needed to be obliterated, and fgor their sake, I would bring their souls to Omega, my father. I sneak forward until my nose reaches air, and I stare forward. I see three small pups in front of me, and raise a claw, in the name of the darq father...
Nickname: Casire
Age: 2
Species: Wolf
Breed: Grey Wolf
Pelt/Hide Colour: Pure White
Eye Colour: Purple
Gender: Stag
Personality: I keep to myself. I don't like conversing with the other wolves, because quite frankly, they bore me. I am bored with all the looks they give me. I don't care anymore, if I annoy, bug, freak out, scare, remind them. Whatever; they can deal with their oen ghosts. I was isolated until just recently, so I don't know them. I don't look like anyone in my family: my mum was black pelted, my grandfather dark brown pelted. My mum said my dad was a beautiful gold, but I guess everything that glitters... If there's one thing that I hate, it's the lite wolves. The stupid beings that dare call themselves wolves, that walk on the sun-dappled eternal pawgrounds. It makes me sick. If I could, I would tear every single one of them apart and let their blood soak the natural Omega-accursed ground below us all. My mother didn't like my worldviews; this is probably why she kicked me out. She said I sounded too much like my great-grandfather, and that his scandal tore apart the family and even more of the world with bloody precision. She said my ideologies were too close to his, and she wouldn't risk what he had given to the world happening with me. What was that? I didn't care. She never told me much, but I don't miss her for what she did. Her stupid neutrality put up barriers everytime we talked. I hate that, indecisiveness that some wolves seem to have. I live with the shadows instead, for they are always the same. The shadows are my children, my mother and father, my brother and sister, my lover. They twirl about me like children, playing in my pawsteps, and swirl and probe in my soul in their sickly-sweet, gentle caresses. The shadows are my soul, and I wouldn't have it any other way. One day I will fade into nothingness and into those shadows, in ecstasy. Until then, I will prove myself to all the non-believers. Now that I know my history, I am prepared. You think you have seen terror? Imagine him on fresh paws. Before my life is snuffed out on this worldly candle, I will make my mark.
History: The first memory I have is of my grandfather-- he was a scary and predominant figure in my life. He used to say the only reason that he stayed with my mum was because my deadbeat dad left us when we were still in my mothers' womb. But I could see, even then, the way he watched so carefully over her. Like he was afraid to lose her-- afraid to touch her, break her. I didn't understand then. How could I? As I grew older, my grandfather became more and more daunting. Finally, one day, when I was just over a year, he took me aside. Perhaps he saw potential in my vicious agressivness. He sat me down on my snow white haunches, and stared deep into my violet eyes. What he saw staring back at him, I could never know. After a while, I shifted on my feet, eager to hear what he had to tell but slowly losing patience. It was then that he spoke. He told me of a wondrous snowy wolf, who stepped down from the moon to grace the earth with his queen of spices. They pupped and spawned a wolf who had amythyst in his eyes. He took the mantle of Omega and tore through the world, ceasing life where his paws fell. When he finally met a she-wolf who appealed to him in the strangest way possible, he too, gave birth to his own hell-raisers. The spawn of the devill-lupine was a far, far, far cry from his lite grandfather, who watched from his pawhold in the second world with disapproval howling from his every expression. This new pup was evil incarnate: Everything he saw he killed. Including his own family. He paused for a moment in telling his story, and with an in-lupine hiss he glared at me with flaming eyes. I flinched, but did not shrink away. He had always been a little off. Then, he said something I'll never forget. You have the blood of Omega in you, the devil himself. Take the blood that soaks my claws, and bear life from it. Keep your Sire's forth into your new life. I understood then how in fear my mother had been, and why. Instantly curious, I begged to stay, but she intervened at possibly the cost of her life and had my brothers drive me away. Who cares? I know what I need to. I didn't need to stay in their silly little family group. Let them rot. I am who I am now.
Sample Post: Tender and eloquent, I ghost about the atrocious landscape. How was it my destiny would lead me here? The desolate art form was twisted and grotesque, lingering on like a soul who had slaughtered a lifetime of peace. Shattering were each of my steps, as I press onward in the unrelenting new frontier. Yet still, my thought were malingering; how could this be where my life would play out? As much as the isolation attracted me, I could find no solace in a long life in peace, alone, with no one to maim or destruct. Also, yet, I knew that I could not leave the earthly terrace without first endeavouring to engage with another, slightly effeminate lupe, who I must conquer in a well enough manner so as to pass along my genetics. I need a son, this I know, to continue the destruction amon this earth as my forefathers have done so before me. There would be nothing as tragic as a line as great as ours, simply, dying out because the candle had no oxygen left to burn. No, I would continue our fury for many generations to come. Suddenly, I am faced with the scent of another; but my body is instantly aquiver, violently shaking as I snarled from tail to toe. This was a light terrace... and I could smell the vile threat in the back of my mouth all the way to my soul. They needed to be obliterated, and fgor their sake, I would bring their souls to Omega, my father. I sneak forward until my nose reaches air, and I stare forward. I see three small pups in front of me, and raise a claw, in the name of the darq father...