Post by fable on Aug 10, 2010 12:46:30 GMT
(THE SMALLER FEATURES);
Character name: Fable .
Age: 2 years old .
Gender: Male .
Animal: Canine .
Breed/s: American Hairless .
Pack: Lexis Tribe .
(I THINK I NEED A THERAPIST);
Personality: Fable has a way about him that exudes a quiet confidence, even while keeping an extremely low profile. he keeps his head low, his eyes forward and makes it a point to look every single wolf in the eyes when he is talking to them, or vice versa. He speaks clearly and fully, almost always in complete and well thought out sentences. When he was younger, he was a selective mute, so talking is still a rather experimental thing with him. Fable always makes sure to keep a perfectly aligned poker face on, stoic and unmoving except in times of extreme emotional strain. It's in his nature to not show any sort of emotion at all, having grown up with the notion that being emotional equated to being weak. In fact, many emotions are completely foreign to him. He doesn't know what love is like, because he's never truly experienced it. He's still in that period of learning, which drives him nuts most of the time, seeing as he hates being out of the loop. He is, however, a quick thinker, able to weave his way through the consequences of anything he does, thus making him cautious as well. To those he knows, he he nothing more than cordial, polite words spill from his maw as formalities, nothing more. He tends to keep his distance from anyone out of fear that these relationships will lead to unnecessary emotional strain...not that he would admit this. Fable is conflicted, however. He has two sides, much like...Batman, for lack of a better descriptor. The lighter side longs for the good in others, longs for compassion and wants to help people whenever possible. The darker side is constantly warring with his mind, his sanity. Sometimes, he doesn't know what to do with himself. He simply meanders around, trying to get his thoughts in order.
Three strengths: He's fast , intelligent and very athletic .
Three weaknesses: He can be cocky , he has mood swings , he tends to lie quite frequently .
(LOOKIN' AT MY REFLECTION);
Height: 13 inches high .
Weight: 10 pounds of muscle .
Appearance: As you would've guessed, Fable is probably the smallest dog in town, weighing in at a measly ten pounds. The good thing about his weight is that it's almost all muscle, with a deep chest and broad shoulders. Fable's eyes are the duskiest of browns and they hide many secrets that he's seen throughout his time on the round sphere we call earth. Fable's legs are long for his breed and act as his little wheels, causing him to be able to keep up with even a Great Dane. As you may have already been able to tell, Fable is hairless. Fur never grew on his body and it never will, due to the nature of his breed. For Fable, winters are harsh. Due to his lack of fur, Fable freezes his ass off everyday of the frosty season. But he's managed to survive them, with the help of his tribe member whom he cuddles up to on the icy nights. If it weren't for them, Fable would be no more.
(REMINISCING LIKE HELL);
History: I was born with a singular sister, Lyssa. My mother passed in childbirth, leading my father to always resent us. Torn between hate and guilt, the brute raised us in a desolate pack far away from any other dogs. The pack was located in the mountains to the north, and that is where I grew up. My father was a mean-tempered brute to begin with, after the death of his mate he became this violent wreck of a dog. He would often fight with me, as I grew fast and strong. I would take the abuse head-on, often fighting back. What I never allowed was my father to attack Lyssa, she was strictly off limits.
Around the time after I became one, I found my father attacking Lyssa. Though she was strong for her gender, she was no match for a male of her type. I watched in shock for a good few minutes, before something came over me. I started to viciously attack my father, giving Lyssa the ability to crawl away from the brawl. I savagely killed my father that night, a crime of passion most would call it. Although I lacked the remorse, my sister fretfully worried for my well-being. Knowing full well that if I stayed the pack would kill me, I simply left. I told my sister to be honest with them, convincing her that they wouldn't ever find me and that they would give up in a month or so. They did and I traveled alone for a good year.
[ooc: Did the history in his eyes so you could see how it hurt him and stuff , ]
Major turning points in life: When he left the pack .
(ALL ABOUT YOU, YOU, YOU);
Roleplaying Sample: Nosferatu was bored, no , worse actually. He was bored and hadn't had a female in two days; it was practically killing him. He needed some whore to come give him a good time, or he'd go out looking for some unsuspecting female to force-breed; simple as. The dark dimensions of Feratu's mind would sicken some people, as all he basically thought about were sex, drugs and violence. And he loved every minute of what he did. Be it raping some poor little virgin, or consuming out of date narcotics, he never thought what he did was wrong, but highly pleasurable. It made the experience a whole lot better to Feratu if he had lied and weaselled his way into a female's heart before doing anything; It made it more exciting to him, the feeling of gaining someone's trust before Violently snatching it away in a frenzy of both sadistic Violence and rape. Although, Lately he had not been in the mood for such theatrics, And had simply picked up various hookers instead. Feratu yawned, before stretching out his long, thin legs. He smiled. It wasn't the warm, happy smile of an innocent male, but the grin of a sick minded rapist, plotting and scheming just to get some more thrill out of a trivial thing such as sex. He walked through the, rather beautiful, park, thinking to himself as he did so. These parts were owned by the fallacy, he wasn't scared though. In fact, that was the whole reason he was here; he had heard that they provided refuge for females...broken females that is. It was too much of a opportunity to pass up in feratu's mind, as he was sure at least one of them needed a little company... He laughed darkly to himself. He would try to stay their for a night or two, and get what he wanted then. They took males too, Just...not as often. So he would have to act his way in. He was a dreary loner, and had been walking for days. He hadn't had any food or water, and was desperate for shelter. A wry smile lit up Nosferatu's face as he thought up his new façade, and started putting it to affect. He ruffled up his fur, so he really did look like a mess now, And got ready to do what he did best; Lie like nobody's business. He had consumed some narcotics earlier that day , so that would help him; if he were to collapse, that is. To be honest with you, He didn't exactly feel like a million bucks then So it was a mystery if he would even be able to stand up when it came down to it, whether he wanted to or not. He coughed, and continued to walk through the fallacy headquarters, waiting for one of them to approach him.
Your name/nickname: Fable , or my real name ? D:
Age: 69 .
How long you've been roleplaying for: three years .
A few interesting facts about you: I like ducks .
Character name: Fable .
Age: 2 years old .
Gender: Male .
Animal: Canine .
Breed/s: American Hairless .
Pack: Lexis Tribe .
(I THINK I NEED A THERAPIST);
Personality: Fable has a way about him that exudes a quiet confidence, even while keeping an extremely low profile. he keeps his head low, his eyes forward and makes it a point to look every single wolf in the eyes when he is talking to them, or vice versa. He speaks clearly and fully, almost always in complete and well thought out sentences. When he was younger, he was a selective mute, so talking is still a rather experimental thing with him. Fable always makes sure to keep a perfectly aligned poker face on, stoic and unmoving except in times of extreme emotional strain. It's in his nature to not show any sort of emotion at all, having grown up with the notion that being emotional equated to being weak. In fact, many emotions are completely foreign to him. He doesn't know what love is like, because he's never truly experienced it. He's still in that period of learning, which drives him nuts most of the time, seeing as he hates being out of the loop. He is, however, a quick thinker, able to weave his way through the consequences of anything he does, thus making him cautious as well. To those he knows, he he nothing more than cordial, polite words spill from his maw as formalities, nothing more. He tends to keep his distance from anyone out of fear that these relationships will lead to unnecessary emotional strain...not that he would admit this. Fable is conflicted, however. He has two sides, much like...Batman, for lack of a better descriptor. The lighter side longs for the good in others, longs for compassion and wants to help people whenever possible. The darker side is constantly warring with his mind, his sanity. Sometimes, he doesn't know what to do with himself. He simply meanders around, trying to get his thoughts in order.
Three strengths: He's fast , intelligent and very athletic .
Three weaknesses: He can be cocky , he has mood swings , he tends to lie quite frequently .
(LOOKIN' AT MY REFLECTION);
Height: 13 inches high .
Weight: 10 pounds of muscle .
Appearance: As you would've guessed, Fable is probably the smallest dog in town, weighing in at a measly ten pounds. The good thing about his weight is that it's almost all muscle, with a deep chest and broad shoulders. Fable's eyes are the duskiest of browns and they hide many secrets that he's seen throughout his time on the round sphere we call earth. Fable's legs are long for his breed and act as his little wheels, causing him to be able to keep up with even a Great Dane. As you may have already been able to tell, Fable is hairless. Fur never grew on his body and it never will, due to the nature of his breed. For Fable, winters are harsh. Due to his lack of fur, Fable freezes his ass off everyday of the frosty season. But he's managed to survive them, with the help of his tribe member whom he cuddles up to on the icy nights. If it weren't for them, Fable would be no more.
(REMINISCING LIKE HELL);
History: I was born with a singular sister, Lyssa. My mother passed in childbirth, leading my father to always resent us. Torn between hate and guilt, the brute raised us in a desolate pack far away from any other dogs. The pack was located in the mountains to the north, and that is where I grew up. My father was a mean-tempered brute to begin with, after the death of his mate he became this violent wreck of a dog. He would often fight with me, as I grew fast and strong. I would take the abuse head-on, often fighting back. What I never allowed was my father to attack Lyssa, she was strictly off limits.
Around the time after I became one, I found my father attacking Lyssa. Though she was strong for her gender, she was no match for a male of her type. I watched in shock for a good few minutes, before something came over me. I started to viciously attack my father, giving Lyssa the ability to crawl away from the brawl. I savagely killed my father that night, a crime of passion most would call it. Although I lacked the remorse, my sister fretfully worried for my well-being. Knowing full well that if I stayed the pack would kill me, I simply left. I told my sister to be honest with them, convincing her that they wouldn't ever find me and that they would give up in a month or so. They did and I traveled alone for a good year.
[ooc: Did the history in his eyes so you could see how it hurt him and stuff , ]
Major turning points in life: When he left the pack .
(ALL ABOUT YOU, YOU, YOU);
Roleplaying Sample: Nosferatu was bored, no , worse actually. He was bored and hadn't had a female in two days; it was practically killing him. He needed some whore to come give him a good time, or he'd go out looking for some unsuspecting female to force-breed; simple as. The dark dimensions of Feratu's mind would sicken some people, as all he basically thought about were sex, drugs and violence. And he loved every minute of what he did. Be it raping some poor little virgin, or consuming out of date narcotics, he never thought what he did was wrong, but highly pleasurable. It made the experience a whole lot better to Feratu if he had lied and weaselled his way into a female's heart before doing anything; It made it more exciting to him, the feeling of gaining someone's trust before Violently snatching it away in a frenzy of both sadistic Violence and rape. Although, Lately he had not been in the mood for such theatrics, And had simply picked up various hookers instead. Feratu yawned, before stretching out his long, thin legs. He smiled. It wasn't the warm, happy smile of an innocent male, but the grin of a sick minded rapist, plotting and scheming just to get some more thrill out of a trivial thing such as sex. He walked through the, rather beautiful, park, thinking to himself as he did so. These parts were owned by the fallacy, he wasn't scared though. In fact, that was the whole reason he was here; he had heard that they provided refuge for females...broken females that is. It was too much of a opportunity to pass up in feratu's mind, as he was sure at least one of them needed a little company... He laughed darkly to himself. He would try to stay their for a night or two, and get what he wanted then. They took males too, Just...not as often. So he would have to act his way in. He was a dreary loner, and had been walking for days. He hadn't had any food or water, and was desperate for shelter. A wry smile lit up Nosferatu's face as he thought up his new façade, and started putting it to affect. He ruffled up his fur, so he really did look like a mess now, And got ready to do what he did best; Lie like nobody's business. He had consumed some narcotics earlier that day , so that would help him; if he were to collapse, that is. To be honest with you, He didn't exactly feel like a million bucks then So it was a mystery if he would even be able to stand up when it came down to it, whether he wanted to or not. He coughed, and continued to walk through the fallacy headquarters, waiting for one of them to approach him.
Your name/nickname: Fable , or my real name ? D:
Age: 69 .
How long you've been roleplaying for: three years .
A few interesting facts about you: I like ducks .