Post by Cancer on Feb 5, 2008 17:50:47 GMT -5
Name:
Age:
How long you've been roleplaying:
Other:
Name:
Date of Birth:
Age:
Breed:
Gender:
Personality:
Appearance:
History:
Image:
Roleplay example:
Augustus
Age:
14
How long you've been roleplaying:
3 to 4 years
Other:
Name:
Cancer
Date of Birth:
Uh. April 1st? When do wolves birth?
Age:
2
Breed:
Black Timber
Gender:
Male
Personality:
Cancer's a little brat that you'll be hating.
All he does is piss everyone off. He's sarcastic and snide and obnoxious. He's got loyalty that really tries hard to coexist with his unforgiving temper. But it doesn't always work out all too well. Get him a family and you'll see a firm stand and some sweetness.
All he does is piss everyone off. He's sarcastic and snide and obnoxious. He's got loyalty that really tries hard to coexist with his unforgiving temper. But it doesn't always work out all too well. Get him a family and you'll see a firm stand and some sweetness.
Appearance:
He's a bit scrawny but you can't say that he's useless on the battlefield. His pelt coloration is a black with red-brown tinting on the fringes. Eyes are a dark, soft hazel that don't show very much of anything. The tail, it looks like he used it as a lightning rod, all bottle-brush like.
History:
“Cancer,” the male said harshly. Mother’s smile fell. “Cancer? What kind of a-“ He blinked, and then narrowed his eyes. “Cancer,” it was firm. Mother frowned, lifted me, and stalked away, the next female in line setting her own pup in front of the warrior.
“Cancer,” she muttered bitterly, setting me in the dust. I looked up at her as she nudged me and said, “That’s not a name for you, now is it?” She certainly didn’t seem to think so, so I shook my small dark head. A small smile toasted her maw, and she looked up at the sky. “How about… Licht?”
So Licht I was, when no one else was around.
I remember growing up with no one. My siblings were the one’s traded in to feed the system. I never asked, and never thought much about it when I was in the pack. But they were probably killed to feed the starving pack. Our lands were barren, and cannibalism was what kept us alive. After your third year, you were killed, unless born with blood that traced you back to the alpha. And when I was one, that was the age my mother was about to claim.
My mother was headstrong, and stubborn. Looking back, I find it a real shock she wasn’t already killed, before even giving birth to me. We planned to escape. Mother wanted better than this for me, she told me, and a better ending for her. She wanted to forget Cancer, she wanted me to be her little Licht no matter who was around to care. Escape was something rarely sought, and never achieved. Those brave enough to attempt were worse than killed. They were destroyed. Oddly enough, I got along nicely.
“Licht,” She breathed in my matured ear, “Tonight, we’re getting you out of here,”
“And you too,” I squeaked, my tail a dark blur behind me. She chuckled softly, nudging me. “When it comes, Licht, just keep running,”
Dusk was when the guards relaxed at their posts, some even falling asleep. Most pack members were settling in to sleep. We had designated times, schedules. I remember thinking my mother had some grand plan, something clever and unexpected, that would get us both through with laughs bursting from our lips at how easy that had been. It was unexpected, alright.
When we reached the first guard that had been awake, she bolted. I did my best to keep up, and so did the sentinel. Several guards had soon taken up the chase as well, all but one zoning in on mother and leaving me to run closer and closer to the border. The one male collided with me, teeth and claws ripping into me. I did the only thing I knew; I screamed, a siren sounding to my mother. She rammed into the wolf, knocking him off of me and taking a much different approach, fighting back. Remembering her words and acting upon them was all I could do. I flipped back onto my feet, running before I was fully righted. The other guards were on top of her, defeating her. I could hear her hide tearing, her screams of pain, and her voice rasping to me, telling me to run. They all took their effect on me, spurring me on. I ran so fast, but thought I’d be too slow. I imagined footfalls, more warriors than the pack had engulfing me. I felt as though my heart would burst out of my chest and run ahead of me.
But I’d made it. And somehow, over time, I’d made it to a more forgiving environment, nourishing my dying frame to no end. It was heaven to me, actually being able to eat something that wasn’t another wolf, and to be able to eat as much as I pleased. And the water. Lakes, streams, rivers, everywhere the scent of it was strong. I suppose the guards had been too frenzied by my mother's blood to have chased me. But I’d worn my welcome too soon.
One day, without given time to defend myself, I was surrounded by snarls, a circle forming to trap me. One particularly large wolf approached me, malice glinting in his dark eyes.
“What’s your name, whelp?”
This was what mother had wanted, this opportunity, for me to say my calling aloud. I went about it the wrong way, however, straightening my posture, raising both head and tail.
“Cancer,” I stated, and almost welcomed the pain that followed.
----------------------------
"Cancer, I'm leaving you with Meth for just a while, okay? Behave," The small plump pup that was Cancer nodded then turned and trotted his way to said Meth and her pup, Cren. Both the whelps' tails were a frenzy, blurring behind them as the rolled over each other, tangling in a mess of tiny nips and playful yelps and growls. Hunting groups were forced to take their time, thus the reason fragile Meth had to watch over both pups. It was a rather poor choice on Cancer's mother's half, the experience something not quite out of Cancer's head still. It was over quickly, but not quickly enough.
With a flash of teeth and claws, poor Meth was on the ground, sobbing and screaming for Cren's father to stop. Cancer cowered in disbelief, his playmate watching without emotion. "Cren," He'd whispered, attempting to make his way to the pup. Cren's father turned to him, a snarl forming as he stepped over Cren's mother, her ragged breath fading. "Not Cren," she managed in an unnoticed whisper. Without thinking, Cancer sped his pace and found himself attempting to guard Cren from the male. With a rake of Bile's claws, Cancer's valiant effort was thwarted, the rock wall doing it's job to make sure Cancer didn't witness poor Cren's punishment. Upon that impact, the line between Licht and Cancer had been defined. Little voices inside his head ever since.
“Cancer,” she muttered bitterly, setting me in the dust. I looked up at her as she nudged me and said, “That’s not a name for you, now is it?” She certainly didn’t seem to think so, so I shook my small dark head. A small smile toasted her maw, and she looked up at the sky. “How about… Licht?”
So Licht I was, when no one else was around.
I remember growing up with no one. My siblings were the one’s traded in to feed the system. I never asked, and never thought much about it when I was in the pack. But they were probably killed to feed the starving pack. Our lands were barren, and cannibalism was what kept us alive. After your third year, you were killed, unless born with blood that traced you back to the alpha. And when I was one, that was the age my mother was about to claim.
My mother was headstrong, and stubborn. Looking back, I find it a real shock she wasn’t already killed, before even giving birth to me. We planned to escape. Mother wanted better than this for me, she told me, and a better ending for her. She wanted to forget Cancer, she wanted me to be her little Licht no matter who was around to care. Escape was something rarely sought, and never achieved. Those brave enough to attempt were worse than killed. They were destroyed. Oddly enough, I got along nicely.
“Licht,” She breathed in my matured ear, “Tonight, we’re getting you out of here,”
“And you too,” I squeaked, my tail a dark blur behind me. She chuckled softly, nudging me. “When it comes, Licht, just keep running,”
Dusk was when the guards relaxed at their posts, some even falling asleep. Most pack members were settling in to sleep. We had designated times, schedules. I remember thinking my mother had some grand plan, something clever and unexpected, that would get us both through with laughs bursting from our lips at how easy that had been. It was unexpected, alright.
When we reached the first guard that had been awake, she bolted. I did my best to keep up, and so did the sentinel. Several guards had soon taken up the chase as well, all but one zoning in on mother and leaving me to run closer and closer to the border. The one male collided with me, teeth and claws ripping into me. I did the only thing I knew; I screamed, a siren sounding to my mother. She rammed into the wolf, knocking him off of me and taking a much different approach, fighting back. Remembering her words and acting upon them was all I could do. I flipped back onto my feet, running before I was fully righted. The other guards were on top of her, defeating her. I could hear her hide tearing, her screams of pain, and her voice rasping to me, telling me to run. They all took their effect on me, spurring me on. I ran so fast, but thought I’d be too slow. I imagined footfalls, more warriors than the pack had engulfing me. I felt as though my heart would burst out of my chest and run ahead of me.
But I’d made it. And somehow, over time, I’d made it to a more forgiving environment, nourishing my dying frame to no end. It was heaven to me, actually being able to eat something that wasn’t another wolf, and to be able to eat as much as I pleased. And the water. Lakes, streams, rivers, everywhere the scent of it was strong. I suppose the guards had been too frenzied by my mother's blood to have chased me. But I’d worn my welcome too soon.
One day, without given time to defend myself, I was surrounded by snarls, a circle forming to trap me. One particularly large wolf approached me, malice glinting in his dark eyes.
“What’s your name, whelp?”
This was what mother had wanted, this opportunity, for me to say my calling aloud. I went about it the wrong way, however, straightening my posture, raising both head and tail.
“Cancer,” I stated, and almost welcomed the pain that followed.
----------------------------
"Cancer, I'm leaving you with Meth for just a while, okay? Behave," The small plump pup that was Cancer nodded then turned and trotted his way to said Meth and her pup, Cren. Both the whelps' tails were a frenzy, blurring behind them as the rolled over each other, tangling in a mess of tiny nips and playful yelps and growls. Hunting groups were forced to take their time, thus the reason fragile Meth had to watch over both pups. It was a rather poor choice on Cancer's mother's half, the experience something not quite out of Cancer's head still. It was over quickly, but not quickly enough.
With a flash of teeth and claws, poor Meth was on the ground, sobbing and screaming for Cren's father to stop. Cancer cowered in disbelief, his playmate watching without emotion. "Cren," He'd whispered, attempting to make his way to the pup. Cren's father turned to him, a snarl forming as he stepped over Cren's mother, her ragged breath fading. "Not Cren," she managed in an unnoticed whisper. Without thinking, Cancer sped his pace and found himself attempting to guard Cren from the male. With a rake of Bile's claws, Cancer's valiant effort was thwarted, the rock wall doing it's job to make sure Cancer didn't witness poor Cren's punishment. Upon that impact, the line between Licht and Cancer had been defined. Little voices inside his head ever since.
Image:
Roleplay example:
Pssh.
----------------------------
Were those, tears? Faucets turned on by what? Guilt, or fear of what he was about to do?
That's right, folks. Jack was taking the coward's way out. What reasons did he have to go on, anyway? Death didn't exactly sound warm, but it didn't sound half bad, either...
How was he to go about this? His blue gaze lifted from his paws to the surrounding features, the rock drawing the most attention.
Hah, Persecution Ridge. Fitting. He aimed his steps to the looming figure as they sped. How was he to go about this?
Suddenly, sight was failing him, the land unfocusing before him. He kept on, aware of how close he was drawing.
With a sickening crunch, Jack hit the stone headon. The maned wolf stumbled back a few steps, something slipping through his fur; he was bleeding. He blinked, then began backing up, ready for another charge. Surely, there had to be a more humane way of terminating yourself. However, Jack felt incredibly numb, the crack in his skull but a dull ache, something from years ago, it seemed.
He shot foward again, lifting his chin before he collided. Another crack resounded through the area. This time, he felt it. He started choking, his whole head was on fire, and his snout, which felt incredibly shorter, he couldn't move it an inch.
Bet he deserved it... Rage could be writhing in pain right now. Of course, he'd never forced her to that choice, never forced her to love him. He'd told her, he'd told her to just leave him be. He didn't want to get back into this shit. But did she listen? She fucking forced him into this, using that dirty technique of hers. It hadn't worked again... Jack hadn't been stupid enough to chase after her while she turned into some homicidal freak. Turned into? Scratch that. She'd been it all along, hadn't she? What the hell had he fallen for, anyways? The chance that maybe this time, this time it would work out?
That had definitely backfired. But, whatever. What did it matter, really? Who cared about his pain?
He took another go at the wall, a crack splitting somewhere above his eyes. It was getting difficult to hold onto conciousness now. Blood was flooding his eyes. And now, he'd let himself bleed to death. To assure it, as if he needed to, he began gnawing through his legs.
----------------------------
Were those, tears? Faucets turned on by what? Guilt, or fear of what he was about to do?
That's right, folks. Jack was taking the coward's way out. What reasons did he have to go on, anyway? Death didn't exactly sound warm, but it didn't sound half bad, either...
How was he to go about this? His blue gaze lifted from his paws to the surrounding features, the rock drawing the most attention.
Hah, Persecution Ridge. Fitting. He aimed his steps to the looming figure as they sped. How was he to go about this?
Suddenly, sight was failing him, the land unfocusing before him. He kept on, aware of how close he was drawing.
With a sickening crunch, Jack hit the stone headon. The maned wolf stumbled back a few steps, something slipping through his fur; he was bleeding. He blinked, then began backing up, ready for another charge. Surely, there had to be a more humane way of terminating yourself. However, Jack felt incredibly numb, the crack in his skull but a dull ache, something from years ago, it seemed.
He shot foward again, lifting his chin before he collided. Another crack resounded through the area. This time, he felt it. He started choking, his whole head was on fire, and his snout, which felt incredibly shorter, he couldn't move it an inch.
Bet he deserved it... Rage could be writhing in pain right now. Of course, he'd never forced her to that choice, never forced her to love him. He'd told her, he'd told her to just leave him be. He didn't want to get back into this shit. But did she listen? She fucking forced him into this, using that dirty technique of hers. It hadn't worked again... Jack hadn't been stupid enough to chase after her while she turned into some homicidal freak. Turned into? Scratch that. She'd been it all along, hadn't she? What the hell had he fallen for, anyways? The chance that maybe this time, this time it would work out?
That had definitely backfired. But, whatever. What did it matter, really? Who cared about his pain?
He took another go at the wall, a crack splitting somewhere above his eyes. It was getting difficult to hold onto conciousness now. Blood was flooding his eyes. And now, he'd let himself bleed to death. To assure it, as if he needed to, he began gnawing through his legs.
