Post by *Pandora on Dec 19, 2010 1:03:50 GMT -5
` HI, MY NAME IS FIRST !
HERE'S ANOTHER PITY AND THERE'S ANOTHER CHANCE !
` FULL NAME ! Mourning Glory
` NICKNAMES ! Glory, Woven Word
` DATE OF BIRTH AND AGE ! 4 Years, July 20th
` SEXUALITY ! Hetero
` SPECIES GROUP ! Arctic
` SUB - SPECIES ! N/A?
TRY TO LEARN A LESSON BUT YOU CAN'T !
` COAT COLORS ! Glory's body is covered in the most brilliant white, with an almost metallic luster. The only place of darker hue stems from her dainty nose and the very tip of her bushy tail.
` EYES ! Orbs the color of blood peer behind dark eyelashes. They give an unusually startling quality to a wolf whose bloodline suggests calm.
` ORAL COLOR ! Glory's tongue and gums are of normal color, a healthy pink. Her teeth, while the majority are a bright ivory, do harbor some odder coloring. Glory's, well, canines have silver tips.
` HEIGHT ! Glory stands on the small side, a mere 5'0, give or take.
` WEIGHT ! A little on the buff side, Mourn weighs in at 123 pounds.
` MARKINGS ! Adorning her petite forehead is something that resembles a bulls eye mark. The center is a circle, and it almost seems like a compass rose as well. Four lines stem from the upper, bottom, and left and right of the circle. Around her neck is a necklace made of twine and deer muscle, with a large shark tooth hanging against her chest.
` DEFORMITES ! While although she is free of any deformities to speak of, as she ages Glory will lose the sight in her right eye. However, she has many years before that becomes an issue.
` WINGS ! Glory's back is free of feathery companions. [/size]
WITH OUT A CHANGE OUR LIVES WILL NEVER LAST !
` LIKES !
While not incredibly independent, Glory finds that her mind flourishes in the peace solitude provides. One of her favorite things to do is walk alone through a forest or grassy plain, giving her thoughts time to run wild.
` DISLIKES ! Known for her complete intolerance of uneeded displays of dominance, Glory snarls at those who pick or take advantage on the less fortunate. Traitor-like acts also make her skin crawl.
` STRENGTHS/SKILLS ! This she-wolf has a tongue that could weave the most convincing lies one has ever heard. With an expansive vocabulary that she only some times taps in to, Glory has earned her Woven Word nickname. Stories are also another skill for her. Glory has never told a lie, but would make a dangerous liar.
` WEAKNESSES ! Glory cannot help taking part in certain types of disputes. Fights that involve morals seem to draw her like a moth to a flame. More often than not, if she has not expressed loyalty to either party, Glory fights for the underdog.
` FEARS ! She fears nothing more than death by water.
` WANTS ! Glory does not have any paticular need to have a family of her own, but when one is loyal as she is, they need someone to be loyal to.
` QUIRKS/HABITS ! A crimson gaze is intimidating in its own right, but turn it into a stare and it can be downright freaky. Mourn has a tendency to stare blankly when deep in thought.
` PERSONALITY SUMMARY !Glory's most prominent trait is her undying loyalty to whomever she has sworn to be as such. Once she has commited to a person, or pack, she would gladly give her life for them without question. In the past, Mourn has ripped the throats of pups simply because she was asked to -- and she did it without batting an eyelash. All that, simply because her pack leader asked it of her. At the same time, Glory is known for her sense of right. She doesn't have a problem stepping between the boldest Alpha and the weakest Omega. Pups seem drawn to her, though she doesn't exactly know why. Perhaps, it is her stories, or the feeling of reassurance and righteousness that seems to radiate from her coat.
YOU CAN SIT BESIDE ME WHEN THE WORLD COMES DOWN !
` PACK ! Unloyal for now.
` MOTHER ! Siana
` FATHER ! Neri
` SIBLINGS ! Delilah, Shadow, Nix
` RELATIONSHIP STATUS !
Single
` HISTORY !Mourn grew in a solid pack life, born to the Alpha and Alphess, as most pups are. It was a sturdy community, never dwindling below six pack members at any time. Glory never took to her mother. As in, she did not crave her mothers attention like her brothers and sisters did. No, she was closer to her father. He was a wise wolf, and taught the youngling almost everything she knew. The She-Wolf remembers clearly, how Neri would sit upon a rock overlooking the ocean. As a pup, Glory would wake up deep in the night and wander out to the spot, to sit and listen to everything Neri would say. It was there that Neri met his end. Neri had always been afraid of water, had said many times that he would die of it. One night, the ocean's tide swelled for reasons Glory, even now, cannot identify. Siana and the brothers and sisters had gone on a hunt. Neri had stayed behind, for once, as other wolves had been rumored to be planning a raid on the den. Proud, Neri awaited their arrival. However, some time in the night, Neri dropped his guard and settled into a slumber. He didn't notice the tide was rising until it was too late, and he drowned in his den. After Neri's death, Glory was not the same, but eventually moved on. [/size]
IT DOESN'T MATTER THEN JUST TURN AROUND !
` NAME !
*Pandora, but Pan (or any variation) is acceptable =)
` RP EXPERIENCE ! I wanna say 7 years, but I don't feel like I've improved enough for that to be true o-o;
` OTHER CHARACTERS ! n/a
` ROLEPLAY SAMPLE ! (A RP of Glory from the lovely, and deceased, Faylihmes.
A breeze swept across the land, bringing with it tales of snow and ice. Even in the mid of summer the world of Caleebraas was chilly, the winterland a place of arctic wolves. The snow had melted in the hot of spring, but it seemed a place made more for Ishild than Hfrimfero; the goddess of ice over the god of wind. It was a surprising fact that she didn't spend her time here more often. But, alas, the world was what it was; and it didn't have to make sense. Rarely did it, in any case. The world of mortals was one of confusement, rarely pellucid in its ways. How they talked, how they breathed, it was unknown to any of them -- and those who claimed otherwise were fools all in their own. No one knew it all, not even the gods and goddesses common wolves bowed their heads to. The ones they would die for were just as dull in the head -- if not for their power they would not be so great. But, all this implies that Glory seethes with envy and distaste, but that would be completely untrue. A lie if I've ever heard one -- and trust me, I've most definitely heard one.
Glory's mind thought back to that morning, when she had awakened deep within the den -- warm and cozy with all of her packmates. Oh how foolish she had been, to wander away from that safety. There, somebody always had her back. There, she had someone to fight for. There, wolves needed her. Here, she was on her own. No one would come to aid her if she were to fall in battle -- a battle that was seeming all too real at the moment. A Caleebraas to the heart, Glory never backed down. Her feet never faltered when dignity and honor, her belief's, were brought into question. War, blood, gore, it didn't change anything. Why should she flinch when blood was spilt onto the violet flower? Fear? Hesitation? All weaknesses. Weaknesses that could be the end of you if anyone ever knew about them. Better to die with the illusion of being fearless than the truth of being weak
Scarlett droplets splashed onto full-bloomed flowers, dripping from numerous wounds across Glory's skin. Cuts bled shallow, while a long gash across her shoulder ran like a river down her white leg. Crimson eyes flashed, legs holding strong to their ground. A throat-wreching snarl vibrated through the air as it passed between bared teeth. Tail stretched out behind her, ears flattened in a defensive stance. A group of four wolves rotated around her. Compared to her, they were much better off, but she had left her mark. All four of them had marks from her claws and teeth, some looking as if to scar; others not so much. They had been playing this game for seven whole minutes now -- this attack and back off. They had expected her to run. They had been wrong. Running was never an option.
It was clear that they were debating what to do next, shooting eachother a daring glance every time one went to step forward. It was easy to intimidate, but could they really follow through with this murder? These Saljin were weak in heart, and that was the most important tool of all. They could have strength, they could have numbers, but without an undying spirit they would never be all powerful -- all mighty. "Well? Are you going to finish me?" Glory shouted, a growl forming deep within her throat. The black fur that made the bulls-eye mark that graced her forehead was colored a deep maroon -- dyed by a cut that ran from ear to ear. It's blood drained down the front of her face, her proudly etched brows angling it away from her eyes. Their leader snarled as they prepared to pounce. Tail shooting up, Glory prepared herself for whatever they had to throw at her.
`Lyrics from All American Rejects. !
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