Post by Oblivion Fury on Apr 28, 2008 5:07:25 GMT -5
>.< I’mma not sure if tattoos like these are allowed. I know that the tattoos in my wolf’s case are pretty severe , but they are linked with her history, If they aren’t allowed… well. Uhm. I’ll redo my bio, I guess >.<
Character’s name: Oblivion Fury
Nickname: Fury
Age: 3 Summers
Breed: Arctic Wolf
Gender: Female
Alliance: Dark
Desired Position: If there are any positions open, I wouldn’t mind xD
Personality: Extremely aggressive, she acts without thought, especially when angry. However headstrong and reckless she is, she actually is cunning and sly, and plans things to the slightest detail when carrying out plans or strategies, this being especially prominent in combat. She enjoys to fight, as she is one of the best [she thinks], and thinks highly of herself. This may not be false, though, as she is quick-witted and is able to carry out things without the slightest mistake or hesitation. One who enjoys seeing others in pain, one she sees or scents the thick, rusty metallic odour of blood, she loses control completely, and the only thing on her mind once that’s started, is tasting the blood, and getting more. Fury doesn’t care about others and is very introverted, with herself and only herself on her mind. In battle, it’s one wolf for herself. And possibly even against her army mates. She lost the ability to trust and love long ago, and mercy is well beyond her. Gaining her trust, is just a way of letting her get one step closer to running her claws against your throat, and she cares nought for betrayal, and actually enjoys seeing the look of shock and surprise on her victim's face just before death, a mixture of sadness, anger and disbelief. Just one of life's many pleasures.
Appearance:
Pelt: Fury is covered from muzzle to tail tip in silky, pallid grey fur that covers her lean, toned sinews. Her arsenic hued fur is then overlaid with markings of light rust and taupe, especially tipping the soft, fluffy chest fur that protrudes from under her chin. She has long, strong limbs which not only allow her much agility, but also strength in combat. With powerful, yet lean sinews, she can easily knock down other wolves of her size or smaller, and is extremely skilled in the arts of battling. One who moves swiftly, you should not doubt her, as many would with her gender, as agility paired with her strength could be any wolf’s downfall. Ivory claws adorn each paw and are abnormally long, larger than most wolves. They are also sharper and deadlier, and with one well placed strike, could easily bring down even the largest of wolves. Paired with these are needle-sharp canines and fangs, a little bigger than normal as well, and nearly resemble wolves’ ancestors, the sabre tooth. Her silvery fur is quite long and coats her body thickly, as she came from far in the north where cold was the one thing that killed the most. It sometimes looks like it shimmers in the moonlight, as the dark glow does that to most pale objects, and gives her the looks of a strange, eerie aura surrounding her. Many deep scars are hidden beneath her coat of creamy charcoal, cloaked to never be seen. Like caverns of pale, silvery-pink flesh, they lie secretly beneath her fur, patterning her skin like shimmering stars in the sky. Though covered, each tells a story of blood, betrayal and death, something Fury's experienced too many times in tha past.
Eyes: Bright, fierce molten gold.
Special Markings: From her recent years, not many know the truth of her past, she has many tribal-like tattoos adorning her body, embellishing her shoulders, back, limbs, neck and face. Two dagger-like patterns curve down her front limbs like vines, and curved spears lie just beneath each eye. The patterns on her face are of a blood-red hue, while the rest are coal-black. An emblem that resembles a pair of sharpened wings decorate her chest, while similar patterns lie on her flank. A long, thin, knife-like tattoo outlines her backbone, and all together gives her a menacing outlook. To add to this, there are 5 letters that are etched into her skin on her hind quarters, very similar to scars, yet they never seem to stop bleeding. No one knows how these bleeding letters came onto her flesh, yet they mysteriously spell the word “CREEP”.
History: She entered the territory as a loner, and has decided to settle in the camp, for who knows how long. Before, she came from the Far North, where ice coated the trees, and the sun came out for short periods of time. A army, known as the army of Fallen Icicles lived there, where she was a wolf of high ranking. They believed in tattooing each other, mostly by using claws to draw wounds, then dying the flesh with berries so it scarred with a colour. It was an incredibly painful process, but pain was weakness in the army. Cubs were influenced to kill as early as possible, and wound when every they wanted. Fury rose through the ranks quickly, killing and slicing throats quietly, to get to her position, till she was found out. Even this was not accepted and she was chosen to be sacrificed the next moon to the God of Winter. She escaped narrowly, and wandered southwards till she came across the army.
Picture: Clickies xD
IC:
[glow=red,4,300]Dancing for rain[/glow]
The thundering maelstrom of clouds blanketed the sky, laying a milky layer of darkness over the lands and spreading growing silhouettes from every creature. Streaks of lightning lit the sky randomly, crashing downwards in shattered bolts of blinding radiance to strike the earth with electric claws and tear it apart just as it had the dark, gloomy sky. Shadows sprouted lengthily from trees and rocks, casting pale shapes onto the ground to embrace the soil, seeping darkness into the cold, frozen ground of the Frozen Moonlight terrain. A she-wolf seemed to emerge from the very embrace of the inky black, into the light of the overcast sky, her body toned and muscular, covered in vicious, scarlet and slate tattoos. Her muscular, yet lean frame was covered in a thick coat of pallid grey that gave of a shimmering, silver glow, reflecting slightly the thin daggers of lightning that pierced the ground far into the distance. Knife like tattoos covered every part of her coat, malicious markings not unlike sinisterly carved blades etched into her skin, from her broad shoulder blades to her slender limbs, leaving not one part of her empty. Just beneath each eye lay two curved hollow, crescent shaped tattoos, broken arcs outlining her dark, merciless golden eyes, the void-black pupils observing her surroundings with a malevolent ruthlessness.
She could feel every grain of soil beneath her pawpads, and the distant rumbling of lightning hitting earth shook her claws slightly, the ends tensing to dig deep, bleeding wounds in the earth. Everything was in fine detail, the shadows moving just slightly as the trees they sprouted from shook in the violent winds and the last, drifting leaves of the trees falling to the ground before her. What was she doing, ‘patrolling’ for thing weak army? Gritting her ivory fangs, she pulled back her lips into a bitter growl, golden eyes narrowing to glittering slits of molten metal. She had to, she had gotten this far. Though she was just a private, it was better than a puny scout, but she aimed for higher, leader. Power, the only thing that would satisfy her maddened hunger for blood, control, supremacy. Giving her powerful body a vigorous shake and sending little particles of dust and leaf wreckage fluttering silently to the ground, Oblivion Fury, or Fury as she was known to others, continued her weary journey onwards, before entering a small clearing, where wind and needle sharp droplets of rain flew freely, liberated from the clutches of sinister tree branches that reached out to catch them with unforgiving arms. In the middle of the clearing stood another she-wolf, her pelt the hue of the greyest charcoal, just before a dark, weathered stone statue, deep lines of both claw marks and acid rain carving into its already wounded body. Fury smirked, twitching her tail with what seemed like contempt. She felt no respect for gods, as the statue was, they were just products of some wolf’s over active imagination, nothing but a memory that wolves used to pretend they themselves were worth something, had something worth following. But they were all just ignorant fools, trying to convince themselves that something out there could help them. The soil beneath her paws turned to glittering sheets of glass-clear ice as she padded nearer to the young wolf, a scout, leaving trails of shattered crystal behind her. “Tut, tut. Are you scared of the storm? Praying to make the angry, loud thunder stop hurting your ears?” She sneered, fierce eyes glimmering in the oncoming darkness. Fear was something she lost the feeling of long ago, as she had with trust, love and hope, and in this weather, she would use a good dummy to test her claws on.
Character’s name: Oblivion Fury
Nickname: Fury
Age: 3 Summers
Breed: Arctic Wolf
Gender: Female
Alliance: Dark
Desired Position: If there are any positions open, I wouldn’t mind xD
Personality: Extremely aggressive, she acts without thought, especially when angry. However headstrong and reckless she is, she actually is cunning and sly, and plans things to the slightest detail when carrying out plans or strategies, this being especially prominent in combat. She enjoys to fight, as she is one of the best [she thinks], and thinks highly of herself. This may not be false, though, as she is quick-witted and is able to carry out things without the slightest mistake or hesitation. One who enjoys seeing others in pain, one she sees or scents the thick, rusty metallic odour of blood, she loses control completely, and the only thing on her mind once that’s started, is tasting the blood, and getting more. Fury doesn’t care about others and is very introverted, with herself and only herself on her mind. In battle, it’s one wolf for herself. And possibly even against her army mates. She lost the ability to trust and love long ago, and mercy is well beyond her. Gaining her trust, is just a way of letting her get one step closer to running her claws against your throat, and she cares nought for betrayal, and actually enjoys seeing the look of shock and surprise on her victim's face just before death, a mixture of sadness, anger and disbelief. Just one of life's many pleasures.
Appearance:
Pelt: Fury is covered from muzzle to tail tip in silky, pallid grey fur that covers her lean, toned sinews. Her arsenic hued fur is then overlaid with markings of light rust and taupe, especially tipping the soft, fluffy chest fur that protrudes from under her chin. She has long, strong limbs which not only allow her much agility, but also strength in combat. With powerful, yet lean sinews, she can easily knock down other wolves of her size or smaller, and is extremely skilled in the arts of battling. One who moves swiftly, you should not doubt her, as many would with her gender, as agility paired with her strength could be any wolf’s downfall. Ivory claws adorn each paw and are abnormally long, larger than most wolves. They are also sharper and deadlier, and with one well placed strike, could easily bring down even the largest of wolves. Paired with these are needle-sharp canines and fangs, a little bigger than normal as well, and nearly resemble wolves’ ancestors, the sabre tooth. Her silvery fur is quite long and coats her body thickly, as she came from far in the north where cold was the one thing that killed the most. It sometimes looks like it shimmers in the moonlight, as the dark glow does that to most pale objects, and gives her the looks of a strange, eerie aura surrounding her. Many deep scars are hidden beneath her coat of creamy charcoal, cloaked to never be seen. Like caverns of pale, silvery-pink flesh, they lie secretly beneath her fur, patterning her skin like shimmering stars in the sky. Though covered, each tells a story of blood, betrayal and death, something Fury's experienced too many times in tha past.
Eyes: Bright, fierce molten gold.
Special Markings: From her recent years, not many know the truth of her past, she has many tribal-like tattoos adorning her body, embellishing her shoulders, back, limbs, neck and face. Two dagger-like patterns curve down her front limbs like vines, and curved spears lie just beneath each eye. The patterns on her face are of a blood-red hue, while the rest are coal-black. An emblem that resembles a pair of sharpened wings decorate her chest, while similar patterns lie on her flank. A long, thin, knife-like tattoo outlines her backbone, and all together gives her a menacing outlook. To add to this, there are 5 letters that are etched into her skin on her hind quarters, very similar to scars, yet they never seem to stop bleeding. No one knows how these bleeding letters came onto her flesh, yet they mysteriously spell the word “CREEP”.
History: She entered the territory as a loner, and has decided to settle in the camp, for who knows how long. Before, she came from the Far North, where ice coated the trees, and the sun came out for short periods of time. A army, known as the army of Fallen Icicles lived there, where she was a wolf of high ranking. They believed in tattooing each other, mostly by using claws to draw wounds, then dying the flesh with berries so it scarred with a colour. It was an incredibly painful process, but pain was weakness in the army. Cubs were influenced to kill as early as possible, and wound when every they wanted. Fury rose through the ranks quickly, killing and slicing throats quietly, to get to her position, till she was found out. Even this was not accepted and she was chosen to be sacrificed the next moon to the God of Winter. She escaped narrowly, and wandered southwards till she came across the army.
Picture: Clickies xD
IC:
[glow=red,4,300]Dancing for rain[/glow]
The thundering maelstrom of clouds blanketed the sky, laying a milky layer of darkness over the lands and spreading growing silhouettes from every creature. Streaks of lightning lit the sky randomly, crashing downwards in shattered bolts of blinding radiance to strike the earth with electric claws and tear it apart just as it had the dark, gloomy sky. Shadows sprouted lengthily from trees and rocks, casting pale shapes onto the ground to embrace the soil, seeping darkness into the cold, frozen ground of the Frozen Moonlight terrain. A she-wolf seemed to emerge from the very embrace of the inky black, into the light of the overcast sky, her body toned and muscular, covered in vicious, scarlet and slate tattoos. Her muscular, yet lean frame was covered in a thick coat of pallid grey that gave of a shimmering, silver glow, reflecting slightly the thin daggers of lightning that pierced the ground far into the distance. Knife like tattoos covered every part of her coat, malicious markings not unlike sinisterly carved blades etched into her skin, from her broad shoulder blades to her slender limbs, leaving not one part of her empty. Just beneath each eye lay two curved hollow, crescent shaped tattoos, broken arcs outlining her dark, merciless golden eyes, the void-black pupils observing her surroundings with a malevolent ruthlessness.
She could feel every grain of soil beneath her pawpads, and the distant rumbling of lightning hitting earth shook her claws slightly, the ends tensing to dig deep, bleeding wounds in the earth. Everything was in fine detail, the shadows moving just slightly as the trees they sprouted from shook in the violent winds and the last, drifting leaves of the trees falling to the ground before her. What was she doing, ‘patrolling’ for thing weak army? Gritting her ivory fangs, she pulled back her lips into a bitter growl, golden eyes narrowing to glittering slits of molten metal. She had to, she had gotten this far. Though she was just a private, it was better than a puny scout, but she aimed for higher, leader. Power, the only thing that would satisfy her maddened hunger for blood, control, supremacy. Giving her powerful body a vigorous shake and sending little particles of dust and leaf wreckage fluttering silently to the ground, Oblivion Fury, or Fury as she was known to others, continued her weary journey onwards, before entering a small clearing, where wind and needle sharp droplets of rain flew freely, liberated from the clutches of sinister tree branches that reached out to catch them with unforgiving arms. In the middle of the clearing stood another she-wolf, her pelt the hue of the greyest charcoal, just before a dark, weathered stone statue, deep lines of both claw marks and acid rain carving into its already wounded body. Fury smirked, twitching her tail with what seemed like contempt. She felt no respect for gods, as the statue was, they were just products of some wolf’s over active imagination, nothing but a memory that wolves used to pretend they themselves were worth something, had something worth following. But they were all just ignorant fools, trying to convince themselves that something out there could help them. The soil beneath her paws turned to glittering sheets of glass-clear ice as she padded nearer to the young wolf, a scout, leaving trails of shattered crystal behind her. “Tut, tut. Are you scared of the storm? Praying to make the angry, loud thunder stop hurting your ears?” She sneered, fierce eyes glimmering in the oncoming darkness. Fear was something she lost the feeling of long ago, as she had with trust, love and hope, and in this weather, she would use a good dummy to test her claws on.
