crocell - male - domestic dog

BASICS:

NAME: crocell.
ALIAS: cell.
AGE: four.
GENDER: male.
SPECIES: domestic dog.
BREED: dogo argentino.
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: asexual - heterosexual.
PACK: packless.


APPEARANCE:

IMAGE SET: click.
SET PERMISSIONS: awaiting permission.

COAT: silky, short, soft. well kept.
COLOR: white, black nose with grey sploshes.
EYES: icy-grey, blue.
SCARS: hardly any that are visible.
HEIGHT: twenty-six inches.
WEIGHT: ninety-nine pounds.

COMPLETE APPEARANCE:

Crocell is a large, well-muscled dog. His deep-set chest is wide. There is an abundance of skin on his muscular neck. Crocell's head is massive with a rounded shape from front to the back. His muzzle concaves upwards slightly, with a slight stop and is about the same length as the skull. His jaws are strong. Crocell's nose is black. Hi eyes are set well apart, and are an icy-hazel. The rims of his eyes are pink. Crocell's ears are set high, stand erect, and triangular in shape. His thighs are very muscular with a short hock. His thick tail is long and carried naturally low. Crocell's thick, glossy coat is white and has no undercoat. He has sploshes of grey freckled across his body.


PERSONALITY:

TRAITS: manipulating, superficial charm, pathological lair, shameless, shallow emotions, need for stimulation; lustful, impulsive, callousness, unreliable, parasitic lifestyle, paranoid, secretive, authoritarian, incapable of real attachment to another, does not precise anything is wrong, ultimate goal is the creation of a willing victim, goal of enslavement of their victims, exercises despotic control over every aspect of the victim's life.

COMPLETE PERSONALITY:

I'm alive.

You slowly forced open your eyes inside a dimly lit room . . . somewhere.
For a couple of blinks of your eyes, you believed you were in a hotel that you couldn't for the life of you remember checking into. A really weird hotel. It didn't matter, though. At least you weren't dead.
Suddenly, you remembered being mauled without a reason why. You remember the intruder, vividly though. You lose the picture of him, all you know is that he was a sixth-degree animal.
You try to get up, but thought better of it immediately. "Whoa there," you say out loud. Your throat was dry, and your voice sounded raspy as it echoed unpleasantly inside your head. Your tongue felt as if it needed a shave.
I'm in hell. In a circle from Dante's Inferno, with a very low number, you thought, and you begin to shiver. Everything about the moment was terrifying, but it was so horrible, and unexpected, you couldn't orient your to it.
Your joints were stiff and painful; you ached all over. You doubted that you could press a hundred pounds right now. Your head felt huge, bloated like aging fruit, and it hurt, bad. You could vividly remember the attacker. He was well built, youngish, extremely powerful, articulate. The images were hazy, but you were absolutely certain they were true.
You remember something else about the monstrous attacker. He'd used a stunning blow, or something like it, to immobilize you. He'd also used chloroform, or maybe it was halothane. It could account for your bruising head-ache.
The light had purposely been left on in the room. You noticed they were coming from modern-looking dimmers built into the ceiling. The ceiling was low, possibly under seven feet.
The room looked as if it had recently been built, or remodeled. It was actually decorated tastefully, the way you might do your own apartment, if you have had the time, and resources.
A real brass bed. Antique white dresser with brass handles. A dressing table with an old bone, a brass bow, and a mirror. There where colorful scarves tied on the bedpost, just the way you have seen it in an old house you visited. That struck you as strange. Very odd.
There were no windows in the room. The only way out appeared to be through a heavy wooden door.
"Nice decor," you mutter softly. "Early psycho. No, it's late psycho."
The door to a small closest was open halfway and you could see inside. What you saw made you feel physically ill.
He'd brought your belongings to this horrible place, this bizarre prison cell. All of your belongings were here.
Using your remaining strength, you force yourself to sit upright in the bed. The effort made your heart race, and the pounding in your chest frightened you. Your legs felt as if heavy weights were tied to them.
You concentrated hard, trying to focus your eyes on the incredible scene. You continued to stare into the closest.
Those weren't actually your belongings, you realized. He'd gone out and found belongings just like yours. Exactly to your taste and style. The belonging displayed in the closest were freshly picked. You could see places where the intruder had picked them up from.
Your eyes darted to the top of the antique white dresser across the room. Nothing else of yours was there.
He'd found all of it for you, hadn't he?
Next to the bed was a copy of All the Pretty Horses, the same book you loved looking at as a young pup.
He knows everything about me!

Enter your name here slept. Awoke. Slept some more. You made a joke of it. Called yourself "Lazybones." You never slept in. Not since before The Event, anyways.
You were beginning to feel more clearheaded and alert, more in command of yourself, except that you had lost track of time. You didn't know if it was morning, noon, or night. Or even which day it was.
The man, whoever the bastard was, had been inside the mysterious, despicable room while she slept. The thought made you feel ill. There was a dark figure staring at you.
The figure, in a deep raspy voice, spoke. Dear Enter full name here. Your paws were trembling as he spoke your name.

'I wanted you to hear this, so that you understand me better, and also the rules of The House. This is probably the most important lecture you'll ever receive, so listen carefully. And please take it very seriously.
No, I'm not crazy or out of control. Actually, I'm quite the opposite. Apply your obviously high intelligence to the concept that I'm relatively sane, and that I know exactly what I want. Most people don't know what they want.
Do you? We'll talk about that later. It's a subject worthy of much lively and interesting discussion. Do you know what you want? Are you getting it? Why not? For the good of society? Whose society? Whose life are we living, anyways?
I won't pretend that you are happy to be here, so no false-sounding welcomes. No cellophane basket of fresh fruit and champagne. As you will see soon, or have already, I've tried to make your stay as comfortable as possible. Which brings up an important, perhaps the most important point of this first attempt at communication between us.
Your stay will be temporary. You will leave -- if, Big If --you listen to what I tell you. So listen carefully.
Are you listening now? Please listen. Chase away the justifiable anger and the white noise in your head. I'm not crazy or out of control.
That's the whole point: I am in control! See the distinction? Of course you do. I know how very bright you are.
It is very important that you know how special you are to me. That's why you are completely safe here. It is also why you'll leave, eventually.
I picked you from thousands and thousands of woman at my disposal, so to speak. I know you're saying "lucky me." I know how funny and cynical you can be. I even know that laughter has gotten you through difficult times. I'm beginning to know you better than anyone has ever known you. Almost as well as you know yourself.
Now for the bad parts. And, these next points are as important as any of the good news I've stated above.
There are The House rules, and are to be strictly observed:


1. The most important rules: you must never try to escape -- or you will be executed within hours, however painful that would be for the both of us. Believe me, there is precedent for this. There can be no reprieve following an escape attempt.
2. You must never call out for help -- I'll know if you do -- and you will be punished with facial and genital disfigurement,


You want to know more -- you want to know everything at once. But it doesn't work that way. Don't bother trying to figure out where you are. You won't guess, and will only give yourself an unnecessary headache.
That's all for now. I've given you more than enough to think about. You are totally safe here. I love you more than you can imagine. I can't wait for us to talk, really talk.

Crocell'

The dark figure exits the room.


HISTORY:

MOTHER: unknown.
FATHER: Arthur; whereabouts unknown.
SIBLINGS: Gwarp, whereabouts unknown; Bentley, whereabouts unknown; Demon, whereabouts unknown, Ambre; whereabouts known, Crocell's harem.
OFFSPRING: n/a.

COMPLETE HISTORY:

Event: birth
Age: few hours old
Where: graveyard cave
With: brother, Gwarp; brother, Bentley; brother, Demon; sister, Ambre.
Feeling: scared and unsure.
Impact: crocell was born with the name Angel, because he was suppose to be his mother's angel. She never knew that he was born a sociopath; unable to feel love. This is his birth.

Event: taken from captive mother
Age: a month
Where: graveyard cave
With: father, Arthur; brother, Gwarp; brother, Bentley; brother, Demon; sister, Ambre.
Detached Feelings: scared and unsure.
Impact: never saw his mother again, was raised by mentally ill father. If this never happened Crocell's sociopath side wouldn't grow into what it is today. A ladykiller. A casanova.

Event: actor
Age: three months
Where: clearview park
With: father, Arthur.
Detached Feelings: confident and nervous.
Impact: gained his father's acceptance and approval. Because of this con gig, Crocell never got the concept of right and wrong.


Event: failure
Age: one year
Where: the fallen tree
With: father, Arthur
Detached Feelings: disappointed and a failure to Arthur.
Impact: this is the reason Arthur started to grow tired of Crocell's actions. Arthur started to think about kicking Crocell out of the family.

Event: kicked out
Age: one year and a month
Where: graveyard cave
With: father, Arthur; brother, Gwarp; brother, Bentley; brother, Demon; sister, Ambre.
Detached Feelings: angry and upset.
Impact: this is the reason Crocell had to start his own life. His own life where he would use what his father thought him to do.

Event: camp
Age: two years
Where: the windigo cave
With: n/a
Detached Feelings: insane
Impact: camp is where Crocell keeps his prisoners. It is his house.


Event: victim
Age: two years and six months
Where: the old campgrounds
With: first victim, Winter.
Detached Feelings: lustful
Impact: starting of his own harem.

Event: obsession
Age: four years
Where:
With: Balam.
Detached Feelings: detached love.
Impact: Crocell changed his name for his new found obsession.
Summary of event:

Event: present
Age: four years
With: harem
Detached Feelings: mentally ill, sociopath
Impact: present doesn't effect the past. Now a days, Crocell is a sociopath that has a harem of six ladies. He rapes them, gets his fun, then lets the go.. if they have been good and followed The House's rules.



PLAYER:

OOC NAME: isabelle.
OTHER CHARACTERS: n/a.
EXPERIENCE: three years?
HOW'D YOU FIND US?: old member; vulgar.
PASSWORD: accepted

RP SAMPLE: