Post by Craveth on Oct 4, 2009 23:23:55 GMT -6
Arkham: A Legend; His Legacy.
Name: Arkham.
Age: 400 years.
Race: Wolf.
Sub-Race: Besheika Demon.
Color: Black, Crimson, and Silver.
Pack: Gaiku Empire.
Rank: (Rank revoked due to inactivity)
Appearance:
Arkham has a slimmish bodice, with tightly held muscles, rippling beneath his pelt. Standing at almost 4 ft, his slender legs are long and well footed. Built for more agility than brute force. His upper body however is slightly heavier, with broad shoulders, and thick neck. His head is round and full of character, which may draw you away from the four large curled horns protruding from his face and head. (Two sit perfectly atop his head, whilst the other two swing around from the sides, lined with his face) His eye's are a deep ruby red in color, wide and fierce, like the burning fires that make up his cursed soul. Two dagger like fangs over grow his bottom jaw, causing them to sit outside his top lip. His pelt is consisted of all black, with silver tufts of fur growing from his massive paws, also a silver mane flowed from the top of his head, to halfway down his back. The silver also occupies a large tuft on the end of his tail. Dark crimson red color also streaks through the silver, like fresh blood spilling from an open wound. Quite the looker however, if you can see anything worth being attracted to beneath his dangerously feral exterior.
Personality:
Behind this rugged, broken soul is a decent side, residing somewhere deep in his heart, which can come out at times- if need be, but this is very rare. He values honesty, determination, and loyalty. Yes, some of the most valued traits in any given life, which he proposed he got from his father. With an eerie presence, don't let his lack of conversation fool you. This creature is quite intelligent, a quick thinker, and an even quicker mouth- in most cases, his words will offend you. This will not bother the brute however, and if you've got a problem with him, he probably piss on you to assure you how much he didn't care. Piggish, and a hothead, he hides is good values very well. Grim and introverted Arkham has no sense for anyone but himself. Sarcastic in a twisted way, he loves to joke around- in the most horrid ways, that, in most cases are funny to him and not others. Full of energy and pride, this brute is highly unpredictable, and should be approached with caution at all times.
History:
Arkham was a product of a lead brute and bitch. It was his mothers first birth, and she did not survive. His father left, leaving the vulnerable pup with his cold sister. Within a couple of hours, a lower rank Beshieka Demon grew tired of seeing the helpless pup cry out for a loving touch and a warm meal. Sneaking into the den, she retrieved him and abandoned the pack to raise him on her own. She was unable to have pups, and her heart sent out for him as soon as she had heard his tiny cry. Traveling far, post haste, she knew if his father found her, she'd probably be killed. A couple of years later, the pup questioned his 'mother' he certainly didn't look like her, or betray any of her traits. She told him what had happened, and totally grief stricken, he fled her embrace, ashamed of his upbringing. Many, many years later, Arkham longed to find a place to call his own- Or perhaps, a 'Home.'
Magic.
-WIP-
[/size][/center]Name: Arkham.
Age: 400 years.
Race: Wolf.
Sub-Race: Besheika Demon.
Color: Black, Crimson, and Silver.
Pack: Gaiku Empire.
Rank: (Rank revoked due to inactivity)
Appearance:
Arkham has a slimmish bodice, with tightly held muscles, rippling beneath his pelt. Standing at almost 4 ft, his slender legs are long and well footed. Built for more agility than brute force. His upper body however is slightly heavier, with broad shoulders, and thick neck. His head is round and full of character, which may draw you away from the four large curled horns protruding from his face and head. (Two sit perfectly atop his head, whilst the other two swing around from the sides, lined with his face) His eye's are a deep ruby red in color, wide and fierce, like the burning fires that make up his cursed soul. Two dagger like fangs over grow his bottom jaw, causing them to sit outside his top lip. His pelt is consisted of all black, with silver tufts of fur growing from his massive paws, also a silver mane flowed from the top of his head, to halfway down his back. The silver also occupies a large tuft on the end of his tail. Dark crimson red color also streaks through the silver, like fresh blood spilling from an open wound. Quite the looker however, if you can see anything worth being attracted to beneath his dangerously feral exterior.
Personality:
Behind this rugged, broken soul is a decent side, residing somewhere deep in his heart, which can come out at times- if need be, but this is very rare. He values honesty, determination, and loyalty. Yes, some of the most valued traits in any given life, which he proposed he got from his father. With an eerie presence, don't let his lack of conversation fool you. This creature is quite intelligent, a quick thinker, and an even quicker mouth- in most cases, his words will offend you. This will not bother the brute however, and if you've got a problem with him, he probably piss on you to assure you how much he didn't care. Piggish, and a hothead, he hides is good values very well. Grim and introverted Arkham has no sense for anyone but himself. Sarcastic in a twisted way, he loves to joke around- in the most horrid ways, that, in most cases are funny to him and not others. Full of energy and pride, this brute is highly unpredictable, and should be approached with caution at all times.
History:
Arkham was a product of a lead brute and bitch. It was his mothers first birth, and she did not survive. His father left, leaving the vulnerable pup with his cold sister. Within a couple of hours, a lower rank Beshieka Demon grew tired of seeing the helpless pup cry out for a loving touch and a warm meal. Sneaking into the den, she retrieved him and abandoned the pack to raise him on her own. She was unable to have pups, and her heart sent out for him as soon as she had heard his tiny cry. Traveling far, post haste, she knew if his father found her, she'd probably be killed. A couple of years later, the pup questioned his 'mother' he certainly didn't look like her, or betray any of her traits. She told him what had happened, and totally grief stricken, he fled her embrace, ashamed of his upbringing. Many, many years later, Arkham longed to find a place to call his own- Or perhaps, a 'Home.'
Magic.
-WIP-
