Post by Kumori} on Jan 2, 2011 20:35:35 GMT -5
Name: Tsar Blitz Krieg
Nickname(s):
Age: 4
Gender: Male
Pack: Friodsong
Rank: Alpha (if possible)
Appearance:
Well, it all depends on who you're asking. I am not beautiful, beautiful is for the female gender, instead I tend to evoke imagination. A mass of dark stormy grey, I am not that easily spotted, but I fear little from my notoriety.My stature is lesser than my width, but to be noticeable one must be watching very closely. I am of the Arctic Wolf, and justly I do my race proud. I may be darker than most but my shoulder tips the ruler at thirty-one inches, and my spine is elongated to an average three feet. I am solidly built, though I was granted no superior ability in strength or agility. I have an average ability in both, which is a necessary thing to have in a world that has little compassion for one gifted in a single talent and weak in another. My bearing is straight, ramrod but without stiffness or tension. I am royal in a way, though I was not raised as royalty. I walk calmly, moving with an easy movement, but I always seem aloof.
I don't seem to inspire imagination, now do I? Well lets not lose all hope too quickly. Though, with my brief description you might think me average at best, I have one noticeable feature. I am riddled with marks, my past written with indelible smokey marks across my alabaster frame. Some find the telling rather gruesome, for my figure is somewhat distorted with their knicks and gashes. They blend together to weave a tapestry, some find alluring while other find repulsive. I have brown smudges on the my shoulders, they random quiet but for they are just scars that healed with brown fur instead of grey fur. I have little care to which you prefer, but it is impossible to notice my most inpiring feature.
I have a scar that runs the length of my face, starting in a crooked line from the base of my right ear,swooping to gash across my right orb, and ending in a sudden tear at the tip of my nose. It is impossible not to notice, for it encompasses the entireity of my right half-face. It was once angry, but time has made the scar fade into a smokey resin. The gash is deep and ragged, and it has stolen my vision in my right pool. I was born with dark chocolate pools ,almost black without suffcient light, but the scar has turned my right pool a milky blue. Does this sate your imagination? Because I'm afraid it is all I have.
Picture: Only have a table :b
Personality:
Tsar is the silent type. Collected and reserved, his words are few and often quiet, without strong emotions behind them. Haughty is the word some use to describe his demeanor, while others consider it noble. He is elegant and refined, though he does not look the part, he plays himself to be a consummate gentlemen, though disattached from any particular creature. He prefers watching, with his one good eye, he watches the world with a cynical eye. A religious pessimist, he dabbles little in the world of fantasy, and keeps himself firmly rooted in the world of reality. His pessimism has kept him alive for many years, and will keep him alive for many more.
It is a game of sorts, his impassive facade hiding a rather morbid creature behind its cool stoney depths. Behind the royal bearing hides a creature that differs strongly from the gentleman facade. Tsar is conniving, his brain constantly turning the cogs of his mind, scheming his way to greater heights. He plots, his mind the ultimate battleground, and his schemes never honest. Tsar is not an honest creature, though his quiet words and crafted gentlemanly manner seem to make other trust him. He prefers to destroy his enemies through deceit, a tangled web of deceit, whether it be a mock trial or an attack from the back. Power has long been out of Tsar's grasp, and be will do anything to secure his right. It is his obcession, and will forever be. It consumes hims when he is not in power, and consumes him when he is in power. Anyone who poses a threat is watches, only a handful of trusted creatures are safe from his roving,schemeing eye.
Though power consumes him, the Tsar is not completely without saving grace. For those he deems trustworthy, he will do all in his power for them. He is loyal to those loyal to him, though he is never afraid to watch a loyal creature die in his place. When he is in power, he rules justly for the most part. Corruption is kept to a minimum and he tries to find check and balances. However, if one fails to impress Tsar, there is little hope for the pitiful creature, for his first impression is the only one that counts.
History:
I was born in a rather large pack. My kind are known to congregate in large numbers, though we often break apart every so often. Everyone thinks they are born a leader. The group consisted of about twenty individuals and my parents ranked somewhere in the middle of the social hierarchy. As the common story goes, they thought they would be a better fit as a leader and broke away from the pack. With a mangy group of followers they broke apart from the larger group and set off to conquer.
Life was not easy for the little group. Prey is more difficult to take down in large numbers, and life on the tundra is a fickle thing. There were 7 of them,excluding my brother and I. We were just whelps, pathetic and useless, but precious none the less. In a fatal hunting accident, my father and two other pack mates were killed. I believe it was in a hunt against a musk ox. Nasty little devils, they are. The others lost hope in the utopia and headed back toward their old homes. My mother had little choice but to return.
If my mother had expected to be accepted with open arms, well she had been a fool. She was scorned,my brother and I with her. It is a miracle I am still here today, but I am. If there was anything lower than omega, my brother and I possessed it. My mother was the omega, and we were her illegitimate offspring. We were treated as low as dirt, and in the arctic tundra that is quite low. But we survived and we thrived.
Now, the story seems rather dull and well frankly it is, but I know you are all dying to hear about the scar. I won the scar in a fight with the Alpha's son. It was a brilliant battle, my abilities had been overlooked by all, and so Devero had expected any easy fight. Foolish boy. It was a quick fight, though I do bear a badge across my eye for it. It was his last blitz attack, and beautiful it was, though it did not save him. I won the fight, but my reign did not last long. Some called my actions unforgivable, leading a sheep to slaughter. I had somehow been dishonorable in my fight. Mutiny is a difficult thing to quiet.
So here I am, having roved the continent. I have found a home here, for how long, the world may never know.
Roleplay Example:
What happens when you die? It is a question we all ask, ever one of us. Five simple words turned into the hardest question of all. Nobody knows what happens when you die. We guess, but we don't know. We can't find out the answer because when we find out... we are dead, and you can't tell people how it is because you are dead. D.E.A.D. Gone, no longer living. I wonder if it is just black, or if you really go to hell or heaven. The fact that if heaven and hell are real, one mistake could reserve you a spot in hell. Do we all have to be perfect to make into heave? Can everybody live up to heavens standreds, what if we do two bad things in are life, that then brings us to hell. It doesn't sound fair, or right, and I'm talking about heaven. Heaven doesn't sound fair to me, I mean... what if you were stupid once and that just screws you over. Is that really fair, do the gods really care? Do they know how hell is? Nobody wants to be there, it's hell. Doesn't everybody have good in there heart? Does heaven or hell know about a second chance. Is it a sin for me to think that heaven is not fair? Does freedom of speech live up there too? I wish I knew.
Kumori was plucked back into her mind, she knew she was going to hell. The fiery pits of doom, never ending torture. Feeling fear every day, not knowing if it was night or day. Breathing in the fumes of rotten flesh, no fresh air. The smell of burning blood, burning flesh. The smell of fear, horror. You hear screaming, crying. The sounds of bones being crushed, the sound of limbs being pulled off. Kumori stomach twisted, the taste of death would always be a thick coat over your tongue. The sight of it all, you would want to scratch out your own eyes. You rather be hung from a chains 100 feet off the ground then be on the ground of hell. Knowing that you are forever punished... The worse thing about it is, that even if you life sucked, it can't be this worse. I don't see why people would ask to go to hell. Your life can't be that bad... Can it?
Kumori shrugged, she dug her claws into the the hard dirt, she did not penetrate the earth as much as she thought she would. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, she titled her head up. The sun rays finding its way to her face. Her face was burning, she was okay with that. She felt like there was something else keeping her from cutting short. She smiled and lowered her cranium, she opened her eyes and she looked at Rook's mismatched eyes. Kumori's mind calmed down, "I wouldn't know. I've never encountered those that would want to harm themselves - only those who wish to harm others. I've seen grief take away life, but never in the literal sense," That knocked the smile of Kumori's face, her mind thought of the statement. "Well, some wolves find they have no reason to live, I mean. Everything has been taken away from them. Sometimes it's not what happened in there life, sometimes it is whats happening to them mentally. Some can't control what happens in their mind. So they simply give up," Kumori pushed that last sentence out, her mouth wouldn't control right, its like it knew she is talking about herself, just in a secret way.
"I can't see not wanting life, even if there is pain in it." Kumori sunk deeper, her mind not liking this. "But what if its not all pain? Or sometime it is. So much pain that you can't take it. Like being slowly torn apart. Pain is a strong feeling, not the strongest though..." she looked away from Rook, her body no longer wanted to be here, but the part of her soul did. The fact that she wasn't alone made it somewhat better. She was somewhat worried, her voice hasn't said anything to her, and that never happens. The only thing she feared more then hell was when the night falls, when her body needs to rest. Sleeping is something you need to have a healthy life, but when you don't sleep even when you are... Does that say something about yourself? Kumori tensed up.
Rook spoke again, Kumori listened to his words. She followed them, thought of something to say "You speak the truth, but what if the sky isn't enough for you to be free. What if the sky was just there. What if you need someone to be there for you. Even if there was no sky, the first thing you wish for is someone to be with. And the only way you could be free is with someone by your side. Then for your second wish, you wish for the sky," When Kumori finished she left a big gap of silence.
Kumori watched as the harsh silence continued, she sallowed hard. Maybe the last statement wasn't the best to add. The wind grew softer, and softer. Until you could hear nothing more then a faint hush. Kumori tried to focus on something that made a noise, but nothing move in this forest. It's like the trees, the wind, even the animals are listening to you. You are the center of attention, Kumori bit her tongue. She sighed as the Rook broke the silence, smashing it into a million pieces. It's almost like Kumori could hear the silence shattering, she made no attempt to look his away. She felt uneasy. "Yes, but what if your soul is own by the devil? Doesn't he now control your balance? When you have no control of that, you have no control over yourself," Kumori finished, her heart pounded slightly hard, she felt like her soul was taken.
"If your soul was taken aren't you just like a puppet? Letting the devil control when you let go of it all... Pulling the strings slowly, breaking one by one. And when the last one is pulled, your puppet falls. The show is over," Kumori paused "So is it worth it living when you can't control your own actions? Is there really any point, sky or no sky. The only thing that could possibly stop your madness is love," Kumori chocked on her words "But the devil won't let you come close to love, instead of pulling strings, he will snip all of them at once. So you are all out of luck," Kumori finally finished, She leaned back. She took a glance at Rook, what is making her tell him these things. What's wrong with me.
Your name: Kumori
How did you find us?: Copp told me about it.
Other characters: N/A
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