Post by Blur on May 27, 2009 16:19:59 GMT -5
Name: Dabih
Age: Three and a half summers
Gender: Male
Species/Breed: Black wolf
Weight; Height: 38 inches at the shoulder, 100 pounds
Pack: Crescent Pack
Rank: Alpha Male [if needed I will do an application for it]
Appearance:
Personality:
History:
RP Example:
Family:
Canopus - Mother (location unknown)
Deneb - Father (location unknown)
Nashira - Daughter
Algiedi - Uncle (Dead)
Friends:
Currently unknown
Codeword: CORRECT
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Age: Three and a half summers
Gender: Male
Species/Breed: Black wolf
Weight; Height: 38 inches at the shoulder, 100 pounds
Pack: Crescent Pack
Rank: Alpha Male [if needed I will do an application for it]
Appearance:
Dabih is a creature that can make his prescence known just by his stance. A build as sturdy as his, and a frame as muscular, surely speaks of his authority. His eyes have the ability to narrow themselves on another in a fashion of the utmost intimidity. Yet, something within the golden optics seem to lack a soul or much generosity at all. It is easy to tell from one brief glance that this brute at least holds himself in a way that proves he is a force that one should not mess with.
His pelt holds a dirty ashen brown hue, obviously flecked with lighter brunette shades. In his mind these are the trasy shades he has received from his mother, for she was of a much lighter color than his father. His face holds rich ebony hues that perhaps give his glance a darker appearance. The dark colors also drip upward into his ears, that always stand rather erect atop of his crania.
The brute has a natural talent at fighting, due to his rather muscular frame. Yet, he seems almost ragged at the same time. A rough past, and perhaps an even rougher future, cause this of him. Numerous scars and tatters are always present upon his flesh. Some rumors believe that he may be going blind in one eye due to an incident he had when he was younger. Something about the brute makes him seem much more aged than he actually it.
Personality:
Dabih was born with one purpose in mind. Winning. His mother gifted him the name from the meaning of slaughterer. This is not far from the truth. This brute uses fighting to get whatever he wants, and whenever he wants it. However, he is not all about violence. He knows that frequently manipulation can be the best technique for getting what one wants. His intelligence is rather great, but his arrogance and cocky behavior will inevitably be his downfall.
Love is not an emotion he has ever felt, or compassion. He may lie and say that he holds these emotions, but they have never even crossed his mind. He only speaks of such things when he knows that lying about them will give him a greater benefit. His life is lived in self-absorbancy and the belief that strength and will-power will create everything perfectly. He is convinced that whatever pack he is a part of will have the opportunity and the ability to prosper with these goals in mind.
Outwardly he has no fears, nothing but solid layers of confidence. And he does not even let himself believe that there may be any weakness for anyone or anything beneath his tough outer shell. The one thing he despises most of all is dogs. He loathes them and believes that they are dirty rats that are only posioning the world. When he can, he will lead the army of wolves to kill them all.
History:
Dabih was born to two wolves and was the eldest of his mother's youngest litter of the three she had in total. His mother, Canopus, was born to the omega of a pack in their old land. She was raised as such and was frequently abused and raped throughout her life due to her beauty. When she was but three summers old she fled the pack during a battle, as they were a warring pack. She held lovely tan and brown hues on her pelt, and found it rather easy to get accepted into another pack.
The Carinae pack welcomed her with open arms, she had a feisty attitude and knew how to defend herself. They were another warring pack, and would be eager to claim her as a normal rank. It was from that moment on that the young whelp of the alpha fell for Canopus. He was but one summer of age, and she was easily at least two summers older. His name was Deneb, but this whelp would forever be underneath of his brother, Algiedi. Algiedi was given Canopus on the celebration of his fourth summer, and he was proud as Canopus was already pregnant with his litter. Typically it was against the 'rules' of the pack to get a femme pregnant before they were declared mates, but Algiedi was his father's favorite and was essentially able to do whatever he pleased.
Canopus was not in love with Algiedi, and no one ever would know that she never loved Deneb either. She just wanted to birth the pups of such a high standing pack. Much to her own demise, however, Carinae began warring with her old pack, Miaplacidus. She was slightly torn inside as she watched her pack begin to fall at the paws of Carinae. After all, there was some instinctual attachment between her and them. The wolves of Miaplacidus had taught her to fight, they had taught her everything she knew. It was that reason that made her flee from the pack of Carinae whilst pregnant with Algiedi's pups.
Much to her surprise, Miaplacidus accepted her back, yet they only treated her worse than ever. Even other omegas considered themselves lucky that they were not her. Upon returning Canopus knew not why she had fled from somewhere that she was so highly thought upon. On a cold, rainy night she decided that once again she must flee Miaplacidus; yet, on this same night she got the surprise of labor. All through the night she writhed in pain as she delivered five good sized whelps, all of them were born healthy and would have been strong fighters. She could tell that instantly, but she had to kill them.
The next morning she was on the border of the lands of Carinae again, claiming she had been taken hostage during the battle. None had seen her flee, and her story of them killing her newborn pups seemed to temporarily touch the heart of Algiedi enough to convince him to take her back. Deneb was furious that his brother would get to get the femme he wanted pregnant again, and that night he decided to kill his elder brother. He framed Canopus for killing him, and indeed she was impressed with his tactics. The alpha of Carinae insisted that she be executed, but Deneb said it was only fair that her good genes be in their royal bloodline. Deneb got his opportunity with Canopus, but it was a long and drawnout battle.
Canopus was flattered by Deneb's scheming in order to get her, and for awhile she faked love and affection, pretending that she absolutely adored him. Not long after she was pregnant with his litter, and eventually birthed four pups. None of which held the air of power that her first litter did, she was less than impressed with them. Her own interest in trying to get the best whelps out of her blood was her own demise. She consulted Deneb, blaming him for not being able to give her the whelps that she wanted. After claiming that Algiedi had given her better pups, Deneb began abusing her.
His aggressions only led to more problems between them, and after she became pregnant with her third litter she killed her second. Canopus did not believe it was her fault that the pups were of such poor quality from Deneb, little did she know it was her own inability to maintain good pregnancies. The third litter was small and only consisted of one large male and two tiny, fragile femmes. The larger of the females died the first night, and Canopus almost killed off both of her whelps right then. And she would have too, if the alpha of Carinae had not expressed as much interest in the male as he had.
Deneb was very proud of his son, but decided that neither should be named until they were of proper age to see what direction their personalities took them. Around the age of six months, Dabih, the then unnamed pup, began showing signs of severe authority and domination over his smaller sister. During one of these fits of domination he ended up killing her and another pup from one of Deneb's sisters. Canopus and her pup were exiled. It had been determined at this point that it was her fault the pup was like this.
Upon leaving the pack to become a loner, she opted to name her son. She found him deserving a name, and one night while looking up at the stars she decided to name him Dabih. It meant slaughterer in her old language from back when she was an omega. Dabih grew up as an agressive and large wolf with a rather muscular frame. Canopus would never admit it, but before she left him she found that he reminded her of Deneb to an extreme amount. She realized that her son would do anything necessary to get what he wanted and that he never would need her.
At a moon or so under the age of two summers, Dabih found himself on his own. He fought for everything that he would ever need to know or do. Survival and domination were the main goals in his mind, and this brute knew exactly in what manner to accomplish that. On his travels he met a lovely femme, she was flirtatious and aggressive. Two qualities that he could not deny, and he mated with the whore wolf. He stayed with her only long enough to see what sort of pups the bitch would produce. The femme was very pleased at the four females she had, but Dabih was not. After they were weaned he killed the she-wolf and three of their daughters. It just so happened that the mother knew Canopus, she had been an omega alongside her. Before the she-wolf's death she told Deneb how she had only been young when this happened, but Canopus had fled Carinae with intents of betrayal.
Dabih took the female pup, who was named Nashira, and took her with him. She was large and aggressive for a female and he decided that more femme's needed to be like Canopus. More needed to be aggressive and obediant to their males, although his mother was much less than obediant. When he stumbled across the Crescent Pack and he set to claiming it as his own. Not only would it allow him to build up a powerful army against the damned dogs that were running around these parts, but it would give him an ideal location to teach Nashira how to dominate and run her own group of people.
RP Example:
Paws rustled in the underbrush. A creature of the night had been awoken by the hazy gleam of the stars in their vast ocean of night. The creature was not at peace with itself; yet, it did not worry itself over the agony that it lived in. The wind whispered sweet nothings to these creatures, but its words were hollow and vacant. Vacant like the golden eyes that were stalking the land, the eyes of the demon creature of darkness. He was alone in the woods, but so very surrounded by its quiet words. He was used to this, and welcomed it with an open maw.
His pelt was rough, worn. It was not full and perfect as it could have, and should have, been. This demon was one of the wars, he had no need for glamorous perfection. Rather, the brute preferred things tattered and torn up. Things that showed all the imperfections of his life, and all the dominace that he could muster. Yet, dominance and agression were typical things for him. Things he welcomed and adored, things that led him through life easily. Confidence overflowed from his constricted veins and arrogance flooded his arteries.
Lips pulled apart into a gruesome smile, he would make his mark on them tonight. Yet the brute with the dark pelt and glistening gold eyes was not the only wolf in the forest tonight. And although he was totally alone, he wasn't. Behind him was another creature, a sleeping femme. She was everything he was not whilst she was sleeping. She appeared to be a small crystaline whelp, but with a father such as the demon, she would not stay so pure for an extensive period. Daddy was on the prowl. Daddy was a killer.
The young whelp had learned at a very young age that her father's name meant slaughterer, but she had never dared to call him by anything other than Father and Sir. Lessons had been learned from him, gruesome lessons that had left her scarred in more than one place and on more than one occaison. But in her silent slumber she worried not about all these troubles that a brute such as her father could cause. She was just a crystalline figure that the dreadful demon would watch over.
His sparkling canines gleamed in the twinkling waves of the moonlit night. Blood stained his chin this night, dripped down his chest. Paws were in a pool of it. One kill had been accomplished. He was raiding a nearby pack, raping it of everything it had to offer. Not literally raping the femmes, this brute was too far above that. Rather, he found it easier just to slaughter. Slaughterer. Dabih. Golden eyes drooped into an almost drugged gaze, he would enjoy the ecstacy of the after-kill. Enjoy the feeling of dominance that it brought to him. He was a winner after all, he had won all along.
A howl erupted from his vocal cords and echoed throughout the shrubs and trees that surrounded him. It was less than a forest in his own mind, more of a twisted fun house. Mirrors around every corner, distorting his frame and position. A memory toyed with his mind, one of his little bitch and himself.
'Father?'
"Yes?
'They think you're strange.'
"Mm"
'Are you crazy, Father?'
He had chuckled at this, laughed right in that stupid whelp's face.
"What do you believe?"
She was silent then, holding her tongue to avoid a good lashing. Just as he had taught her to do around him. She would respect him until she died, because surely she would be the one to die before him.
'I...'
"Daddy always taught you not to stutter."
He gave her a rough swipe across the face, and relished the drops of blood that trickled down her cheek. The same drugged gaze caught in his eyes, and the whelp had noticed it.
"What has Daddy taught you, bitch?"
Her eyes had clenched shut, oh how young she had been! How horrible he had been to her, and how he had adored every moment of it.
'I am sorry, Sir.'
"Do you think Daddy has a screw loose?"
She had merely opened her mouth to speak when he had swiped at her figure again. He caught her squarely in the shoulder this time and sent her tumbling sideways to the ground.
'Daddy!'
"What did you call me...."
'Father! You're going insane! You can see the looks in your eyes! You can watch the sanity dripping from your features!'
Her choked sobs were the next thing he could remember. That was the last time she had ever stood up against him...
He drifted back into reality, feeling the chill as the blood dried on his jaw. Another whelp had run by while he was slaughtering, one that was not his own lovely Nashira. The hunt was on again, and muscles rippled through the demon's pelt as he wandered in the general direction of the lost creature. Once more his eyes were drooped with that drugged concentration of adoration for this game he played. And all the while he neglected to protect his own whelp, his only goal to kill the others.
Family:
Canopus - Mother (location unknown)
Deneb - Father (location unknown)
Nashira - Daughter
Algiedi - Uncle (Dead)
Friends:
Currently unknown
Codeword: CORRECT
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