[P:0]
Post by Ƨatƴr. on Apr 19, 2009 18:31:36 GMT
welcome to the world of wolves
Your Name/Alias :: Raze
Your Characters :: Razoniel, Illusion, Satyr
Where did you find us? :: Poked an affie banner.
and freefall into the abyss below
Name :: Satyr
Alias :: Say, Satan if you're good-humored
Age :: Four years
Gender :: Male
Element :: Earth
Pack :: Undecided.
Rank :: Undecided.just let yourself go with the flow
Appearance ::
Satyr is quite an unusual wolf when compared to the norm, though in a group of winged and rainbow wolves he is not as outstanding. For one thing, he is earth-borne, and would never have it any other way because the land and nature is his element. He is slightly heavy in the paws and head, with muscular shoulders and neck. Part of this may be because he has to hold up slightly more than a normal timber wolf—he is horned. Goat horns come up from between his large, angular ears, curved back slightly. They are not all that long or useful for battle, since they jut backwards, curving slightly toward the back of his skull, but they have surprisingly sharp points that will deal a surprise to whoever tries to strike the back of his neck. Despite his muscular front, the rest of him seems abnormally skinny. His ribs often show, and his hips are prominent. Some of his thick fur hangs in matted tufts, as he does not bother to groom it much. When he does, it’s shown to be a color of rich forest canopies. He is like a normal timber wolf in coloration, with the hue changed a bit. He has shades from black around his back in streaks, with a spectrum of dark pine green to spring jade green, to very light green and white on the usual areas a timber would have paler colors. He has sharp, jagged teeth with off-pink gums, and a sunken, predatory look about his face which can produce the most pleasant of smiles when he so chooses. He has long ebony claws, whose shade of black matches his pupils, set in irises of gold-green.
Personality ::
Satyr is the oddest blend of naughty and nice, trustworthy and suspicious, soft and cold, jovial and depressed, that no one can figure him out—not even himself. This phenomenon is a blend of mental disability and pure insanity that he obtained at a young age. He has no concept of what he wants in life, and goes with the flow as much as he can. He believes heavily in fate and lets the characters he runs into shape his path. If he meets a wolf who hates him, he will be bitter enemies with them for as long as they are. If a wolf is nice to him, he may bow and treat them with respect and gratitude, and do favors for them. His personality varies so much that it’s hard to tell what one wrong move will do, or how he’ll interpret it.
Normally, he is pretty good-natured. He jokes and grins and plays with friends. He is a great hunter and calls upon nature very often, having an affinity for tendrils like vines and ivy to snare prey or whatever else he wants to trap. He also uses his good sense of smell to tell where others have been, and uses this information to form a quick opinion of them, what pack they are from, who they have associated with, whether they prefer carrion or large deer. But a pair of wolves can be twins, and he can treat them so differently that you’d think they were of two different species.
If Satyr is predictable in one thing, it is his unpredictability. This paradox is explained by many quirks of his behaviors. He has the tendency to forget those he has befriended, however. Do not expect a pleasant reunion with him unless he’s seen you every single day. He is also a wolf of extremely bad habits. He will promise you the moon, but not a word he says can be counted on. He spins webs of lies, tangling wolves to his advantage, and can change his story at any time. If you counted on him one day, the next you may find out that what he confided in you is false. It is hard to say whether he is aware that he is lying or if he believes all of his stories.
With females, he is in some aspects a totally different wolf, and in others as described above. He acts on a whim in most cases, sometimes taking risks and blatantly asking for a woman’s company, other times dropping the most innocent of hints. Sometimes he is in the mood for sex, sex, sex—and others he is astonished at those wolves that go around playing females. He can be incredibly romantic and offer sweet words and a shoulder to cry on, promising the girls anything. He can also hurt females in the worst ways possible, breaking their hearts or breaking them. If confronted for lying or messing around, he is liable to break down and beg forgiveness, to say he’ll change. Deep down, he might mean it, but forget the next moment. One can only theorize about Satyr’s behavior, really, as it will only present itself when it presents itself. There are no hints.
History ::
Satyr does not remember all of his own past. If he does, he shows no sign of it. He tells everyone he meets something different, whatever he thinks they want to hear or whatever he can come up with at that time. Parts of what he says may be influenced by his actual history, but no one can really be sure.
He was born to a small band of wolves that had been ravaged by war with an enemy pack, who they had branched from. This explains his wartime stories. He was young during this time, and grew up a hardened member of a group of horned wolves. He was hit badly on the head sometime during this war, rending him confused and disoriented. He was originally to be the heir of the band if his father died, but as his parents had a new litter, his baby brother became the “star” of the pack. Satyr struck out at his sibling a few weeks later, when no one was looking, but this murder attempt failed. He was astonished that he could even do that, and tried to make it up to him in the end, sheltering him from the enemies, teaching him the ways of the wild.
His brother left the pack when the battles go to be too much when their mother died of infection. Satyr tried to follow, and became torn by more battles. All he wanted was to find peace, and he travelled for many months. In this time, he befriended other wolves, though most of these bonds had a shaky foundation, making him lose these friends whenever he turned his back, really. When he met up with his brother again, and when he was finished telling the lies of his past, he was welcomed into the new pack that formed on the outskirts of Nevermore. He did not settle in too nicely with the wolves there, which were suspicious of him. Everyone treated him civilly, but his brother, the alpha there, noted that he wasn’t quite accepted. A pair of sisters, Nixie and Skuld, did catch his eye.
Satyr and Skuld met each other with intense hatred and came to blows over some of his sexual pick-up lines. They prowled off afterwards. Nixie was sweeter at their meeting, and the two became friends at first sight. As the days went on, the wolves began to whisper of Satyr’s intentions. He and Nixie were getting ever closer, while Skuld was coolly beginning to flirt back with him. The two sisters and the male kept their relationships a secret.
Everything fell apart later even as Satyr tried to keep it together. As he sincerely supported the pack with meals and cared deeply for his brother, he barely kept Nixie when she found out he was having an affair with her sister. Still, he and Skuld kept going, until she fell in love with him. He asked Nixie to be his mate, telling her how much he loved her over anything else, and Skuld grew furious even if he said he wanted to keep them under wraps.
Satyr left the pack, dazed and suicidal, a few months later when Skuld bore his pups, and his brother was in shock at everything that had happened. The male roamed into the lands of Nevermore, pushing aside all that had happened to him, vowing that he’d sin no more. He hasn’t hurt anyone else yet, and currently is wearing a sweet façade—or just being sweet sincerely—and attempting to find a new pack to join.
Roleplay Sample :: Third bio, not needed.
Other :: I am unsure about what pack to place him in. Could he be a loner, and join up with one IC? I will have him as searching for one.
