Post by .:DOORMOUSE:. on Aug 23, 2012 15:30:57 GMT -6
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,background-image:url(http://i52.tinypic.com/otj5sn.jpg); width: 390px; height: 450px; -moz-border-radius: 40px 0px 40px 0px; border-radius:40px 0px 40px 0px; opacity: 0.8; border-right: #7298ac 15px solid; border-left: #7298ac 15px solid;] BUT YOU RIP IT FROM MY HANDS AND YOU SWEAR IT'S ALL GONE AND YOU RIP OUT ALL I HAVE JUST TO SAY THAT YOU'VE WON Name: ONE Gender:-----> MALE Age: FIVE Breed: GREY WOLF : canis lupus mutation: no mutation. illness: One does seem to experience symptoms of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, striving for perfection and whatnot. The symptoms include : extreme personal hygiene strange, personal rituals when things haven't gone his way, One will display trichotillomania (i.e hair pulling) fur Color: grey. Eye Color: brown Appearance type: his lower body (stomach, legs) are covered with white. the grey covers the rest of his body with even stripes of black etched horizontally along his sides. He is of average height which is means to say he neither towers over wolves nor is overshadowed by them. A little on the scrawny side, it appears as though he does not get much to eat, which is true. Infections grow and learn, one must be careful with what they eat. His eyes can be both the warmest, and welcome of brown and even when he has paw pressed against your throat, they still gleam with a sense of happiness, although not necessarily pure. His face is outlined by two crescent scars, that start at his forehead just below his ear and stop underneath his eyes. Personality: Some have called One a tyrant. Others a genius. He frowns on both words and merely supplies himself with 'intelligent life-form'. After all, in this time of change, with mutants and others, who knows what you are really? He looks at himself and sees what could be the perfect being. He knows from research, from faults that nothing in this world is perfect, but he plans to be the very first. Egotistical. One is suave, polite. The face of a perfect gentleman. He knows his manners and expects people to act with the same etiquette. He is not without a heart. He praises singing children and enjoys flirting with the ladies as much as man. He will whisper tales of his wants, of a family, of pups, people to carry on his line of work when he no longer walks. He frowns upon delinquents, the rebels, people who do not fit in with the status quo. Therefore, some refer to him as a mad-man. Perhaps he is. A little delusional when it comes to his dreams of a kingdom in which all is well, snapping when it comes to germs and proper hygiene, One is with faults. Underneath this gentleman, there is a beast. A man that calmly kills without judgement, a man guided not by his heart, but his mind. A mind that is dark with shadows of nights lost to thinking, a body carved by abuse of deliquents he happily exterminated and a sense of judgement that can be cruel and twisted. One thrives on his sense of judgement, his intelligent which he knows will take any foe. Watch which you stand with this wolf. Allies are welcome, Enemies are not. Although you may win the battle, I can guarantee you that One will always win the war. He is dangerous, he is cunning, he is One. Act 3; I MIGHT AND YOU MIGHT BUT NEITHER OF DO, THOUGH AND NEITHER OF US WILL History: IN THE BEGINNING THERE WAS ONE. an only pup that saw things in order. Alphabetic, in color, but most importantly, Numeric. His eyes caught patterns, he deduced, he discovered, he learned. ONE OF INTELLIGENCE, OF SCIENCE, JUST ONE As he grew, he blossomed. Truly, he was the brightest. With being the brightest, he was alone. No mere wolf could stand up to expectations of higher communications. He scoffed and shook his head. ONE TO WALK ALONE He looked down on packs and their rather primitive behaviour. When he looked at his habits, so precise, so perfect and then looking at the rest, it was sad, disappointing. Not to mention a group of five or less wolves certainly did not count as a pack according to Numeric standings. That was a band of wolves, or perhaps even a posse. One did the right thing when he destroyed them. ONE TO CHOOSE He was not a man of dischord, nor was he a man of harmony. He believed solely in fairness, eqaulity. Precision, perfection. He strived for it. Symmetry was nice if was included in his little package of a perfect world, but One learned as he grew older that such were the tiny imperfect mathematical fractions in life. In the end, it will always be one they will to turn to, one they ask to lead, to decided. ALL IT TAKES IS ONE Brother: none Sister: none Father: Eins Mother: Ena Mate: none as of moment Pups: none as of moment Rank/Position: loner (aiming for alpha) Pack: Aserio Act 3 the final act; HOW LONG WILL YOU PLAY THIS GAME? HOW LONG WILL YOU FIGHT OR WILL YOU WALK AWAY HOW LONG WILL YOU LET IT BURN? LET IT BURN && Ipod;; BAD - U2 LET IT BURN - RED MIGHT - MODEST MOUSE MISSED THE BOAT - MODEST MOUSE LIAR - MUMFORD & SONS LEARN ME RIGHT - MUMFORD AND SONS Roleplay sample; One was not god. He knew that, but that did not stop him from having a egotistical attitude, a great swelling pride that overwhelmed him. His ankles showed signs of chewing, the hair seemed to have been pulled. He had not meant to, but had found himself awake in a bed of pulled hairs. He hated how this disorder ruled him, how it pulled at his subconscious, rendering him a mere use of nature's plaything. At the end of the day, he knew he was merely a formula for a lupine being. A studious formula of blood, oxygen and other elements that made One himself. Yet, when striving for perfection, for order, bare ankles were frowned upon. From his perch, he watched, waited. With a pause, with baited breath, did he wait. Until he heard it. The screaming. He knew it was coming, but that didn't stop it from taking his breath away. Silly little things, disorderly little bands that tread on the land. Littering it with their waste, their bones and poor intelligence. It was shocking to see how many stupid people survived the infections. It was during this time that he thought of the infections, that One praised himself on his good cleaning methods, and his hate for the small problem he had with pulling his hair out deepen. From the east, he could see the sparks he once started had thrived. Like a proud father, he sat smugly, watching with intense pleasure. He had planned carefully, studying clouds, the wind, everything. Weather was a tricky tool, something every wolf had to be careful in utilizing. But he was an intelligent life-form after all. He would not be touched by the blaze, but rather in the perfect stand point to watch it all burn. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The wolves never did stand a chance against One and with a brief chuckle he allowed to escape. The mad man watched from his perch before he cast a gaze upwards. He scowled slightly, eyebrows furrowing. He had counted on a large thunderstorm heading in, and although the black clouds billowed menacingly over his head, the rain had not fallen. He reprimanded himself inwardly for his wrong calculations and turned to leave the blaze behind. Time to move on to bigger things. It amused him to see the scurrying animals, the fleeing birds. How nice it was, to be the calm figurehead in the moments of panic. Although he did start the embers, it did not take much for them to grow. That was nature's doing. From the corner of his eye, he saw the fire grow, the warm colors illuminating the forest. He picked up pace, still as elegant and calm as before. No wrong in being the slightest bit paranoid. Paranoia, although can be dangerous, allows the genes in one body to start the body's adrenaline. He stopped. He stopped only once and it was to hover over the burning body of one the wolves who had dared to taunt him earlier. Her lithe body which some might call attractive had been burnt, paws black, tail singed. It had a rather disgusting smell to it, one that came to haunt One for a few months afterwards. Her eyes opened and her mouth opened with a rush of words. But it was all in vain as the golden eyes looked as his patient face and stopped. Dread stricken, surely the wolf recognized his face, the newly formed scars that accented his face. She tried to plead with him, and One was never the kind of wolf to take mercy from beggars. 'Ah my dear, shush that drivel.' He whispered softly and she stopped, eyes wide. ' After all, I have so much to thank you for. If not for you and your band cronies, I would not be without my scars, healthy reminders of my goal really. Although we can't all be perfect, there is no harm in striving for the best we can be. And you did try.' He cooed, watching with delight as she nodded eagerly. 'It's a shame really. This world that I plan to mould has no place for infidels such as yourself.' He quite liked his speech, and gave himself a happy chorus of compliments as he pressed weight on the girl's throat, listening as she gurgled, she twitched until nothing. With a bow, he exited the scene, leaving the fire to ravage the others. After all, he did have a world to create. well now you've won |
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