Post by Hat on Oct 23, 2010 23:21:08 GMT -5
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Hat
"Everything is boring."[/center]
Name: Hatteras
Nickname(s): Hat
Has also gone by "Blithard," "Julian", "Hax" and "Dennis" in the past.
Gender: Male
Age: 7 years
Species: Tyanz
Eye Color: Black
Pelt Color: Primarily light gray, with various markings in blue and purple in various places on his body.
Physical Description:
A largeish, well-built male wolf, arrogant in posture and decorated with an assortment of colorful scars and markings. Hat is quite good-looking, or was a few years ago, and is quite aware of it. His fur is thick, a throwback to his Arctic ancenstry, and is so pale in color as to be almost white. His eyes are pupilless, like all of his race, and solid black.
The markings across his body are blue and purple in color, and run literally across..starting on his shoulders and going in thin blue lines in a sort of 'ribcage' pattern from back to stomach. These end at his haunches. His face is mostly purple lines, and are mostly cross markings in random places. He stands out in a crowd with no problems, which is how he likes it.
Personality:
Hat's personality is, unlike most, uncomplicated. He systematically divides the world into things he likes, feels indifferent about, and doesn't like, and acts accordingly.
He likes almost everything, for some reason, being one of those cheery individuals who has never really disliked anything. Either that or he's too lazy to be involved in a strong emotion like 'hate'. The latter is more likely. In any case, Hat generally looks on the world with friendly, or at least apathetic, good humor and embraces anything that isn't imminently likely to hurt him. He talks to everyone, rarely showing respect (he's too old) or disrespect (there's really no reason to) toward others. His sense of humor is a bit caustic, but still unending, and exercised as much as possible.
Only rarely does Hat dislike anything, or not care about it. Generally he doesn't like to be involved with anything that might end up with him dead or injured, or wolves that are likely to kill him. Also, he despises anyone that tries to go behind his back and fuck him over. This, of course, is despite the fact that he tends to be incapable of caring overmuch about anyone else..which is how he has, in the past, ended up with three different mates and a slew of pups, none of whom have seen him in years. He's a bit of a hypocrite.
Hat is, on occasion, an asshole. Also he lies about everything, being the sort of guy who lives more off his wits than any other special talents. Mostly, though, he's a fairly friendly wolf, aging slightly but still good-looking, who likes everyone else too much to avoid getting hurt. Or, apparently, hurting other people.
History:
His father came from who knew where, a handsome Arctic wolf who crawled, one day, out of a dingy laboratory with his eyes painted a stunning, pupilless bright orange. His mother was what his species called a 'normal', a plain-looking loner with no past or future. The two met and, some months later, three pups were born. These looked more than anything like their father, and were despised by the older siblings that followed their mother around like some kind of strange pack. Hatteras and his sisters didn't stick around long. They embraced their father's idea that 'normal' wolves were a lesser breed and spent quite a while running around, tormenting random loners.
After a while, the group became a fairly well-known and slightly feared gang. A few extra wolves joined up. 'Slick's Pack' started attacking groups of normal wolves, devising grand strategies for taking over the territories by a sort of guerilla war. Of course, that didn't last long. Slick, Hat, and Cobb were only a year and a half old, and most of the wolves that followed them were even younger. A gang of normal wolves attacked, and the only few to escape death were Hat and a winged female pup. These hid out in the woods for a while, while the female lamented the end of their grand plans and Hatteras sort of, vaguely, felt sorry that his sisters were dead. Then they went north.
Some years later, Hat and the female, whose name was Tyren, decided they were mates. Or, anyway, Tyren did. Hat was not too sure, but survival was easier when he wasn't by himself. Then Hat found a pack who was offering him a pretty good gamma position, and Tyren didn't want to join. They seperated with no hard feelings.
He spent two or three years as gamma and then beta of the pack, which then fell apart into warring factions. Rather then stick around and be involved, Hat as usual decided to disappear into the mist. Another female followed him this time, although he didn't know about it for several weeks. When Hat finally found out, he was annoyed. This time it was a Mexican wolf named Jenna, who had apparently been stalking him for some time while he was beta. Hat decided someone who was that obsessed might as well be rewarded. This resulted in a one-night stand of sorts (several, over the years as they met again and again). The two seperated, although not for good. Hat, on occasion, thinks he might be in love with her.
At the age of six, Hat decided to go back home. He arrived his homelands just in time to run into his half-brother Habeus. The two lost no time in engaging in a miniature version of the laboratory versus normal wars of their youth, which ultimitely resulted in Hat stealing Habeus's mate, Chin. Thi did not go over so well. The two dueled violently one night, and Chin came out the loser.
Hat tells himself that he doesn't feel guilty.
He hasn't heard from Habeus since. Hat did, however, find the rotting remains of a familiar-looking black wolf at the bottom of a cliff once, and assumed his brother jumped. He regularly spends time trying not to feel like a complete dirtbag.
Now he lives in the woods, where he is contemplating joining the Arcania pack. After all, it seems that it's his destiny to be forever involved in stupid struggles that do nothing except get others killed. In the daytime he roves around looking for trouble to get into. At night he stares into space and listens to old ghosts. His main consolation is that he's finally getting old.
Mother: Dalia
Father: Hawthorn
Brother(s): Morgan, Habeaus (dead?), Cosner (half, mother's side)
Sister(s): Cobb, Slick (both dead)
Past/Current Mate(s):
Past mates include Jenna, Tyren, and Chin (dead)
Offspring:
Various, most likely.
Write History Here-One hundred words minimum
RP Example:
(Not a wolf rp. Please don't ask about the context. It's medievel history. Ish. Not even. After the Renaissance. And it's animals instead of people. Like I said.)
Beasts and weapons flashed past me where I stood in a foot of mud, staring at them. Some of them bled, others didn't..I could tell for sure who had actually fought the battle and who had hung back, hoping to surive the night. The moon shone down on the scene, lighting us all bright silver and flashing off armor, weapons, shields..fewer than we'd started this march with. The day before had been harder fighting, as we'd wiped out a large well-armed village in order to get it under control of Baron Tervin Blackstar. Today was not as bad - just a small outpost, a few farms - but we'd been on the march for weeks now. Nobody was looking forward to another fight.
The night was cold, and my breath floated away from me as I stalked through the English muck, using my spear for support. The creatures around me didn't meet my face. It was pretty obvious why..they all expected I would be dead by the end of this march. Nobody looked at anyone else at all, in fact. Except for one band. They were barely distinguishable under the filth, their eyes staring out of the mud and fangs bared as they laughed at the men around them. War-addled. They only wanted to fight and die. I was assigned to them.
"Captain Eale!" A rat of that band waved a spear at me, trying to get my attention as he pointed a claw toward the front lines. "Look there."
I did. There was a short line of spears visible off on the top of the hill. d*mn these woodlanders. There was always one last group ready to fight for whatever muddy plots of farmland and filthy, defenceless houses they had. I could count about ten, due to the bright moonlight. Easy. It would be like threshing wheat or whatever these barbarians did for food around here.
I turned back to the rat who'd hailed me and shrugged, strolling to the front of my little platoon..what was left of them from the fight we'd had the day before..and shouldering my spear. This campaigning was a drag. Hopefully I'd be done with it soon and could go somewhere else..I'd heard that there was excellent dry-weather fighting if you joined the Crusaders..
The order to march rang out in the night. I kept step with the others, one paw on my lance and another on my sword as the column moved forward..
Arrows hailed down..they never hit me.
A mouse died on my blade, suprise in his eyes to see a squirrel among this host.
Sharp pain seared through me; a beast hit me from behind. I gutted him as I fell...
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A flame crackled in the Tavern's fireplace, keeping the room pleasantly warm. It was empty, which was typical of this time of night, aside from a golden squirrel, which was typical of this time of night. The squirrel sat awake, staring dully into the fire with his arms crossed, brown eyes fixed on the orange flames. He glanced up for a second as the snow picked up outside, rattling off the windows. Kind of odd, how one night he'd been thinking of the Crusades and the next he was lying half-dead in the mud with an injury that ruined his career forever. He'd never made it to the warm-weather fighting..Regen still lived in the frozen North. England.
He turned his eyes back to the fire, vaguely noting the sound of paws coming up the stairs into the building. The opening of the door was also ignored. Mostly.
"Who is it."
The words weren't as slurred as usual..Regen hadn't bothered to drink anything tonight, as he hadn't needed it to keep remembering a fight that happened four years ago. Amazing how a beast can forget about something for a whole year, and it comes back like yesterday one perfectly normal evening..
Where Did You Find Us?
Meh?
Bio Sheet Created by Rachy[/blockquote]