Post by Parody on Dec 2, 2007 22:05:35 GMT -5
Name:: Parody
Gender:: Female
Rank:: Alpha female
Appearance:: Parody is petite, with thin legs and a long, lithe body. But she is by no means weak. Her speed is hard to match, and her agility is helped along by her small form. Her fur is thick and coarse, not silky and fine like the vixens who don't work for their food. Her coat is a mix of white-grey and black, the tip of her long, bushy tail white-grey. She is not dainty, and she does not care that the tip of her tail is often browned with dirt from the ground. Her limbs are night black. Her wide, calculating eyes are orange-brown, keen and observant, capable of absolute and complete seduction. She knows well how to manipulate her body, and can twist and turn on a dime to avoid anything that might be coming at her. Her teeth are white, her one vanity. She cannot stand the taste of decaying flesh in her jaws, and does not want to seem like the gross pig who would.
History:: Parody was born in a litter of four, the largest cub in the group, which is saying a lot. Her brother and sisters were frail and unhealthy, and so her mother devoured them. It might seem disgusting and vulgar, but her mother, Ilany, could not afford to feed the weak children. They all might have died. So she kept Parody alone, strengthening her with her milk. Parody never knew her father, as Ilany was a kindred spirit. She liked to live alone, and with no one. And so Parody lived alone with her mother, traveling, hunting, and growing up meeting no other foxes. The first time she met another of her kind was the day her mother was caught in a hunter's trap. She yipped and whined for hours before she saw the hunter coming into sight. Her mother, in great pain, begged her to go. She would not. Still small at a year old, she was picked up by a large male fox before the hunter could see them. She struggled and cried, but the fox would not let her down until long after they heard the gunshot and were far away.
When the fox finally let her down, she went into a rage. She attacked him before he could fight back, a swift and deadly blow to his throat. As he lay dying, she began to shake. Her legs collapsed under her when she realized what she had done. The last thing he said to her was 'Don't think on it too much. Death comes to us all, some sooner than others.' Then he died. She lay by his body for days, intent on the death he spoke of with such peacefulness. But then something clicked in her mind. She thought of her mother begging her to go. Begging her to live. With a heavy heart, she left the kind fox, and began to make her own way. She hunted on her own, lived on her own for three years. Now she wants something more. She remembered the kindness of her mother and her mysterious rescuer, and she wants to know if others are the same.
Personality:: Parody is quite a peculiar creature. She different from most others, because she lived on her own for all of her life, aside from her mother. She does not know the courtesies of the normal world, and therefore often seems bold or rude. She simply says what she's feeling, without thinking of the consequences. She can be a bit gullible when it comes to people lying, misleading, or teasing her. If she hears someone say something, she usually believes them. It is one of her major faults.
Another thing is her desires. If she wants something, she goes after it. Though, most of the time, she wants to avoid others if only to avoid embarrassment. She's sick of others laughing at her, but she knows she must used to them. She feels that if she is ever weak, that if she ever gives in, someone might die in the attempt to save her. She doesn't want anyone else to die, so she's afraid to get close to anyone. And she knows that she has to be strong, at all times. All in all, this vix has a heart of gold, and if others are in trouble, she sees herself in that position and tries to save them, even at the expense of her well-being.
Role Play Example:: ((This is one of my best works;; I tend to match the people I roleplay with. If you give me an amazing post, I'll do the same for you.))
Peace is for the weak
++And the weak were not allowed here. Not even allowed in the presence of this fine being, this evil creature that roamed as a ghost along the rocky crags and hills of th claiming grounds. They would not be able to get near her, for if they tried, they would be killed. Dead, rotting, bloating in the mid-day sun. That is, if the maggots didn't get to them first. The moon rose high for now, a gleaming pool of slivery white against a backdrop of stars. Some would call it romantic. Yet said evil damsel didn't give it a second thought. If it were possible, she would shoot that blasted orb down from the sky. She liked the dark, the shadows, the feeling of seeing others while they felt the chill of their sixth sense, looking around for their stalker... of course, they never saw her until after they were dead. Pity, perhaps, that the vix never kept them alive long enough to hear their screams... Lucky for them.
++The mottle-pelted creature paused her pointless journey, sculpted head held high and defiant under the radiance of the stars. The pelt itself was an odd one, a blotchy bay roan splattered with white. She was actually rather vain about her coat, and made sure blood never stayed on it long enough to stain. Her figure was lithe, thin in the body and legs long and straight. Her father's blood brought her speed, her mother's stamina and grace. At least one good thing came from her non-existent, light father. She never met him, and never planned to. He was probably dead, anyway. Lights never seemed to last long, too weak and peace-loving to look after themselves. Pathetic. But many were drawn by her figure, and she did nothing to put down their advances. There was, however, one thing that sent them scrambling for their mothers; the black of her eyes. The deep hatred, the unforgettable evil that dwelled in those black abyss-like pools. She was no damsel needing protection from the world. That was not why she was here...
++Now, for the reason this proud female had come to the lands of the weak-hearted. It was actually rather simple. She had become bored with wandering, with no purpose. She had heard of the faction in these parts, Crimson Moon, but she had no interest in them, either. Yet she did share one thing with them. She wished to kill the lights and, worse, the neutrals. Those too weak to choose between light and dark. She wanted them to die. So, even though she was not likely to join the dark group, she would help out their cause. For she felt that the lights had weakened her mother. Weakened her ideals while she lived amongst them, bred with them, birthed within their herds. True, her mother had left, but she had not killed the father. And Antietam craved the kill. She felt confident her mother would not have held back before her seduction. Ana had not, when she picked a light suitor. He now lay as yellowing bones, picked clean by the rats. This should be the fate of that alliance. All of them. The mare stamped one hoof, and the sound seemed to echo. Perhaps their would be some interesting person to pass. Someone for her to toy with, maybe? She wouldn't get too hopeful.
I thrive upon the fear of war.
Password:: Honestly, I read the plot over a couple of times and didn't see it. On another post it said wilderness, but I didn't see that in the plot... I'm sorry!
Gender:: Female
Rank:: Alpha female
Appearance:: Parody is petite, with thin legs and a long, lithe body. But she is by no means weak. Her speed is hard to match, and her agility is helped along by her small form. Her fur is thick and coarse, not silky and fine like the vixens who don't work for their food. Her coat is a mix of white-grey and black, the tip of her long, bushy tail white-grey. She is not dainty, and she does not care that the tip of her tail is often browned with dirt from the ground. Her limbs are night black. Her wide, calculating eyes are orange-brown, keen and observant, capable of absolute and complete seduction. She knows well how to manipulate her body, and can twist and turn on a dime to avoid anything that might be coming at her. Her teeth are white, her one vanity. She cannot stand the taste of decaying flesh in her jaws, and does not want to seem like the gross pig who would.
History:: Parody was born in a litter of four, the largest cub in the group, which is saying a lot. Her brother and sisters were frail and unhealthy, and so her mother devoured them. It might seem disgusting and vulgar, but her mother, Ilany, could not afford to feed the weak children. They all might have died. So she kept Parody alone, strengthening her with her milk. Parody never knew her father, as Ilany was a kindred spirit. She liked to live alone, and with no one. And so Parody lived alone with her mother, traveling, hunting, and growing up meeting no other foxes. The first time she met another of her kind was the day her mother was caught in a hunter's trap. She yipped and whined for hours before she saw the hunter coming into sight. Her mother, in great pain, begged her to go. She would not. Still small at a year old, she was picked up by a large male fox before the hunter could see them. She struggled and cried, but the fox would not let her down until long after they heard the gunshot and were far away.
When the fox finally let her down, she went into a rage. She attacked him before he could fight back, a swift and deadly blow to his throat. As he lay dying, she began to shake. Her legs collapsed under her when she realized what she had done. The last thing he said to her was 'Don't think on it too much. Death comes to us all, some sooner than others.' Then he died. She lay by his body for days, intent on the death he spoke of with such peacefulness. But then something clicked in her mind. She thought of her mother begging her to go. Begging her to live. With a heavy heart, she left the kind fox, and began to make her own way. She hunted on her own, lived on her own for three years. Now she wants something more. She remembered the kindness of her mother and her mysterious rescuer, and she wants to know if others are the same.
Personality:: Parody is quite a peculiar creature. She different from most others, because she lived on her own for all of her life, aside from her mother. She does not know the courtesies of the normal world, and therefore often seems bold or rude. She simply says what she's feeling, without thinking of the consequences. She can be a bit gullible when it comes to people lying, misleading, or teasing her. If she hears someone say something, she usually believes them. It is one of her major faults.
Another thing is her desires. If she wants something, she goes after it. Though, most of the time, she wants to avoid others if only to avoid embarrassment. She's sick of others laughing at her, but she knows she must used to them. She feels that if she is ever weak, that if she ever gives in, someone might die in the attempt to save her. She doesn't want anyone else to die, so she's afraid to get close to anyone. And she knows that she has to be strong, at all times. All in all, this vix has a heart of gold, and if others are in trouble, she sees herself in that position and tries to save them, even at the expense of her well-being.
Role Play Example:: ((This is one of my best works;; I tend to match the people I roleplay with. If you give me an amazing post, I'll do the same for you.))
Peace is for the weak
++And the weak were not allowed here. Not even allowed in the presence of this fine being, this evil creature that roamed as a ghost along the rocky crags and hills of th claiming grounds. They would not be able to get near her, for if they tried, they would be killed. Dead, rotting, bloating in the mid-day sun. That is, if the maggots didn't get to them first. The moon rose high for now, a gleaming pool of slivery white against a backdrop of stars. Some would call it romantic. Yet said evil damsel didn't give it a second thought. If it were possible, she would shoot that blasted orb down from the sky. She liked the dark, the shadows, the feeling of seeing others while they felt the chill of their sixth sense, looking around for their stalker... of course, they never saw her until after they were dead. Pity, perhaps, that the vix never kept them alive long enough to hear their screams... Lucky for them.
++The mottle-pelted creature paused her pointless journey, sculpted head held high and defiant under the radiance of the stars. The pelt itself was an odd one, a blotchy bay roan splattered with white. She was actually rather vain about her coat, and made sure blood never stayed on it long enough to stain. Her figure was lithe, thin in the body and legs long and straight. Her father's blood brought her speed, her mother's stamina and grace. At least one good thing came from her non-existent, light father. She never met him, and never planned to. He was probably dead, anyway. Lights never seemed to last long, too weak and peace-loving to look after themselves. Pathetic. But many were drawn by her figure, and she did nothing to put down their advances. There was, however, one thing that sent them scrambling for their mothers; the black of her eyes. The deep hatred, the unforgettable evil that dwelled in those black abyss-like pools. She was no damsel needing protection from the world. That was not why she was here...
++Now, for the reason this proud female had come to the lands of the weak-hearted. It was actually rather simple. She had become bored with wandering, with no purpose. She had heard of the faction in these parts, Crimson Moon, but she had no interest in them, either. Yet she did share one thing with them. She wished to kill the lights and, worse, the neutrals. Those too weak to choose between light and dark. She wanted them to die. So, even though she was not likely to join the dark group, she would help out their cause. For she felt that the lights had weakened her mother. Weakened her ideals while she lived amongst them, bred with them, birthed within their herds. True, her mother had left, but she had not killed the father. And Antietam craved the kill. She felt confident her mother would not have held back before her seduction. Ana had not, when she picked a light suitor. He now lay as yellowing bones, picked clean by the rats. This should be the fate of that alliance. All of them. The mare stamped one hoof, and the sound seemed to echo. Perhaps their would be some interesting person to pass. Someone for her to toy with, maybe? She wouldn't get too hopeful.
I thrive upon the fear of war.
Password:: Honestly, I read the plot over a couple of times and didn't see it. On another post it said wilderness, but I didn't see that in the plot... I'm sorry!
