lamb - male - wolfdog
Aug 24, 2013 22:35:27 GMT -5
Post by lamb on Aug 24, 2013 22:35:27 GMT -5
lamb;
***
BASICS:***
NAME: Lamb
ALIAS: the White Devil
AGE: Six
GENDER: Male
SPECIES: Wolf dog
BREED: Wolf dog mix
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Heterosexual
PACK: Packless
***
APPEARANCE:
IMAGE SET: None
SET PERMISSIONS: All images used will be CC
COAT: For all appearances, it is virgin fur, unmarred by colors aside from the base of white. It is thick, forming a resemblance of a mane near his shoulders and throat, where the fur is even denser and more bristly to the touch. It is obvious what part of his genetics is dominant--the wolf.
COLOR: "Pure" white is a term that is often used in over-exaggeration, but not when applied to Lamb. There is no black or brown or cream in his coat, which is an undifferentiated hue of white.
EYES: A shade of blue so lightly colored it is very nearly surreal.
SCARS: Aside from the nicks that decorate his muzzle, lower legs, and ears his fur hides any major scars.
HEIGHT: 34 inches
WEIGHT: 105 lbs
COMPLETE APPEARANCE: "Goliath" is a term that would never be adequate when describing Lamb, for he makes his size appear as graceful as anything. He has a remarkable stature and stance, with a way of standing that suggests both power and confidence. He handles his height well and elegantly, with an air that suggests he is not so much a wolf-dog as he is part feline. The wild in his veins (as he likes to call it) appears to dominate his features, giving him a wolfish size, build, and face. The only thing truly atypical could very well be the color of his eyes, which no normal wolf would have. He is a force to be reckoned with, and that is for certain, but he is vain enough to keep himself clean of dirt or blood. His scars are mostly hidden by his thick fur, but if it were to be shaved one would quickly discover just what hardships the wolfdog had passed through.
***
PERSONALITY:
TRAITS: animalistic, confident, logical, immoral, apathetic, savage, ambitious, extremely intelligent, dominant
COMPLETE PERSONALITY: Imagine, for a moment, the sheer personification of an animal, if such a thing were to exist. An individual commanded by the ruthless will to survive, unhindered by the suffering of others. Someone who would not hesitate in the face of desolation, nor pause when faced with suffering themselves. Pity is a foreign word. Mercy even foreigner. They merely understand forward movement, the need to continue through impossible odds. The last precipice does not exist for them. They are ruthless, instinctual, passionate about life.
Now give them ambition. The will to do better, to make progress. Now take away their impulse and their instincts, replace it with cool logic, with intelligence. Now remove their fear of the unknown, of the uncertain. Give them fearlessness. You have Lamb.
Tenacious does not begin to describe him and his endeavors. He is stubborn as a bull but ten times as smart. He commands the intelligence of Odysseus, but lacks his fatal flaw of pride. While vain, he is not excessively so. At the bear bones of his personality, he is a strategist. His fault could very well lay in the fact he over-calculates, over-analyzes.
Call him apathetic, and it would be the truth. Do not mistake this for something that it is not. He loves life and is exceedingly passionate about it. He merely lacks sentiment and the desire to form bonds with most. He would rather reign than follow, would rather own than lack. He is driven by base urges; they are merely made more complex through his cerulean eyes. A wolf desires to expand it's territory, form a pack, reproduce, and keep what is theirs. Now give a wolf a man's inhibition, and a man's unstoppable desire.
***
HISTORY:
MOTHER: Eve, deceased
FATHER: Unknown, status unknown (presumed deceased)
SIBLINGS: Lion, alive
OFFSPRING: Cain, Abel, Judas, Eve (all alive)
COMPLETE HISTORY:
Lion and Lamb were born on the near eve of Owen's rise to power. Their mother initially saw this as a good omen, but that was six months prior to her untimely demise at the teeth of the once fair revolutionary. That being said, Lion and Lamb both grew up fatherless and in a pack that hated them. Owen was someone that they both feared and disdained; these combination of emotions toughened them considerably as they aged, and the pair of them were heavy supports for any revolution against the "crown".
When Owen was killed, the two of them began to flourish. They found their place among the strays of the city, managing to eek out a living alongside one another. It was during this time period that the Lamb met a female named Jael and bred with her, producing his first heirs. The next three years were spent teaching Cain, Abel, Judas, and Eve about life and how to live it. After that they left to find their own lives in the city. Lamb, an individual who harbors nihilistic views, is uncertain as to what sort of developments are arising in the city. Regardless, he plans to take his part in them. He has been a part of Islara for as long as he has been alive. The same can be said for his brother. The two of them certainly do enjoy to raise hell.
***
PLAYER:
OOC NAME: vandal
OTHER CHARACTERS: n/a
EXPERIENCE: five or six years
HOW'D YOU FIND US?: affiliate on RiA
PASSWORD: Accepted.
RP SAMPLE:
It was a beautiful day. The pair of them wove in and out of the ruins at a steady lope, on patrol despite it being rogue land. Their thoughts wandered to things unmentioned, to ironies that neither could ignore.
When in war, sunshine did not exist. There were to be no birds chirping or bees buzzing. Merely the grotesque howls of battle and the pained screams of the fallen. It came down to trenches; common men became preachers, heads tossed back and eyes shut tight against the sounds of detonation, begging for salvation. There were souls to be saved, goodbyes to be said. Laughter became a legend; happiness a myth.
Of course, the twins knew better. The world kept on going no matter what. Yeah, there would be misery, but there was always gonna be a tomorrow. Legion and Kekoa could go at it all they wanted and maybe there would be a victory and maybe not. Maybe they'd destroy each other. Either way, Malone and Galvani knew that it didn't really concern them. Sure, they did what the good ol' Legacy told them to do, all under the ruse of loyalty. But they weren't afraid of what was happening. The sun came up every day. The pain of their comrades earned only the bleak, unimpressed stare of two pairs of gunmetal eyes.
This was not their war to win.
So the sun shone. The birds chirped. The bees buzzed.
Galvani paused over the scent of something he did not recognize. He lowered his nose to the ground and inhaled it. Mal came up beside him not eagerly so much as absently. Her thoughts were elsewhere. Frankly, they were focused on Grimshaw, which wasn't too out of character. The bastard seemed to plague her night and day with thoughts of him. Of how he was an idiot, of how he had all kinds of bastard kids running around. But she didn't want him getting killed in this stupid war. Plagued with worry she could not admit to, she was even more short-tempered than usual.
"Shit Mal, stop pinin' like that." Galvani rose his powerful head, registering the smell for what it was. A couple a' loners, fresh from somewhere else. The beauceron mix yawned, showing his teeth. He glanced sidelong at his sister, who did not meet his eyes, but stared instead at the sunlit ruins of the Abbey. "Whatcha say, sis? Les' go raise some hell, ya? Get yer mind off'a things." Vanny smirked at her and butted the brunt of his shoulder against hers. She stirred, glanced at him, her muzzle wrinkling in a snarl.
But Galvani was being kinder than was typical for him and she figured she better take advantage of it. "Fine." The pair of them trailed after the scent, being that it was relatively fresh. It took them mere minutes to find the other dogs. But the twins fault was that they were accustomed to looking down at others; looking up did not occur to either of them until the first rise of voices was audible, and by then they were very nearly beneath the other two dogs. Galvani craned his neck up at the base of the ruin, his mouth twisting into a characteristic, lighthearted grin. "Hey, ain't ya two kinda far from home? Ain't gonna find nothin' 'ere, 'cept for war or maybe a couple a' crazies."
Malone hung back, her eyes narrowed in a way that shoulda been intense, if not for how distracted they seemed.
When in war, sunshine did not exist. There were to be no birds chirping or bees buzzing. Merely the grotesque howls of battle and the pained screams of the fallen. It came down to trenches; common men became preachers, heads tossed back and eyes shut tight against the sounds of detonation, begging for salvation. There were souls to be saved, goodbyes to be said. Laughter became a legend; happiness a myth.
Of course, the twins knew better. The world kept on going no matter what. Yeah, there would be misery, but there was always gonna be a tomorrow. Legion and Kekoa could go at it all they wanted and maybe there would be a victory and maybe not. Maybe they'd destroy each other. Either way, Malone and Galvani knew that it didn't really concern them. Sure, they did what the good ol' Legacy told them to do, all under the ruse of loyalty. But they weren't afraid of what was happening. The sun came up every day. The pain of their comrades earned only the bleak, unimpressed stare of two pairs of gunmetal eyes.
This was not their war to win.
So the sun shone. The birds chirped. The bees buzzed.
Galvani paused over the scent of something he did not recognize. He lowered his nose to the ground and inhaled it. Mal came up beside him not eagerly so much as absently. Her thoughts were elsewhere. Frankly, they were focused on Grimshaw, which wasn't too out of character. The bastard seemed to plague her night and day with thoughts of him. Of how he was an idiot, of how he had all kinds of bastard kids running around. But she didn't want him getting killed in this stupid war. Plagued with worry she could not admit to, she was even more short-tempered than usual.
"Shit Mal, stop pinin' like that." Galvani rose his powerful head, registering the smell for what it was. A couple a' loners, fresh from somewhere else. The beauceron mix yawned, showing his teeth. He glanced sidelong at his sister, who did not meet his eyes, but stared instead at the sunlit ruins of the Abbey. "Whatcha say, sis? Les' go raise some hell, ya? Get yer mind off'a things." Vanny smirked at her and butted the brunt of his shoulder against hers. She stirred, glanced at him, her muzzle wrinkling in a snarl.
But Galvani was being kinder than was typical for him and she figured she better take advantage of it. "Fine." The pair of them trailed after the scent, being that it was relatively fresh. It took them mere minutes to find the other dogs. But the twins fault was that they were accustomed to looking down at others; looking up did not occur to either of them until the first rise of voices was audible, and by then they were very nearly beneath the other two dogs. Galvani craned his neck up at the base of the ruin, his mouth twisting into a characteristic, lighthearted grin. "Hey, ain't ya two kinda far from home? Ain't gonna find nothin' 'ere, 'cept for war or maybe a couple a' crazies."
Malone hung back, her eyes narrowed in a way that shoulda been intense, if not for how distracted they seemed.
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