Post by Sayadron on Feb 17, 2007 17:54:49 GMT -5
Name: Requiem
Age: 3
Gender: Female
Pack: Firepack?
Rank: Omega
Personality: She's hostile, and quiet. She keeps to herself, and doesn't like to speak to others. She has a fierce tamper and loves the excitment that she gets out of a fight. She also loves to outwitt the others around her.
Description: She's almost all white, except for some grey on her back.
Skills: Fighting
Kin: Elegy/Cocophony
History: Nothing special. Her pack split up not too long ago, they lived in a place that couldn't support them, and she went her own way.
Role-play example: From Alverstone
Twilight held the reign for a few precious moments. A time when the sky itself remained nuetral. The sun had sunk beyond the jagged range of the mountains, and the moon had yet to rise. Colors played accross the sky in a fashion that almost seemed chaotic, and tranguil. Such beauty, and yet, it would last for but a moment. The display was only visable when there was no moon, and when the light of the dying sun was still visable flaring from the grave. A seen unknow to anywhere else, it was precious, just through the scarcity. Rare elements, common in the fact that there were so many of them, but rare in the fact that they only had a limited amount of time to shine. Like life itself, time often went too fast. It seemed all too soon these precious things were gone from grasp, never to again illuminate the atmosphere.
Life itself could be rare. Some never were given a fare chance. Others had too long. And yet, there were some that had enough time, but wasted too much of it, living in what they wanted to believe, not what was. Some too wore masks so that others would not see the reality of it all. Oddly enough, all of those things seemed to be true for the the royal line of the pures. Gallipoli had lived such a painful exsistance, that it must have been relief for him to pass, no more pain. But for others like her mother, Amythest, life was too short. Now she was dead. Argento had had his childhood stolen from him, and perhaps he too was dead. If not, it was probable that he was living in his illusions, for that was common for those with a past like his. And Silueta? Silueta was alive, but had lived in her illusions, along with wearing her own mask to hide from the pain. For too long, she had wasted her life.
For too long, Silueta had not accepted the truth. Only after a strange and nerve-wracking expirience had she decided to throw away the veils, tear them down to expose reality, letting it burn her vision, and letting the tears fall, but it had been the only way. She had realized that there had only been one way to live the way her parents would have liked, and that was to see the world as it was, not as she would like it to be. And part of that had been to come back to where she was born. She knew that if there were anything else about her family she didn't know, it would be upon the fable Silver Mountain that she would find the answers. So the journey had begun, so time ago. But now as the task of climbing to her first home, she found her courage deserting her, for she was afraid of what she would find.
The golden femmora sighed, and continued to weave through the trees. The air was quickly cooling, and as much as she would love to not have to sleep tihe night away in another forgein place, she knew that that would be nearly impossible to avoid. Silver Mountain was legues away, and it would be long after the moon had risen before she neared the base. But perhaps that would be best. She knew hardly anyone here, in the valley that had once been her home, and she didn't want to encounter any more mysterious visages than she had too, for it made her nervous. Even if they didn't know her, which most didn't, she had been gone too long, she was constantly staring behind her, watching for any unwanted company who might actually know who she was. She wanted to stay away from that, at least until she knew whether her brother was alive or dead, and who held the title of the lord of the auras.
In the distance, Silver mountain gleamed, highlighted in the last desperate rays of twilight. The snow that always seemed to coat the apex, though usually silver, now seemed to burn beneath the wonderous chaotic inforno. And beneath it open the valley floor. It stood so proud, like a gold crown of a king. Fitting that it should look as such. Most of the lower valley lay beneath the shadows, but some places, including Wind River valley, a small side dip in the mountains near to Silver mountain, and the Cliff beloning to the dark lord also shown brilliantly in the fading rays. Ironically, Torcido's Cliff, the name that Silueta knew it as, held nearly the same regal glow of her former home. But the false beauty did not fool her. She knew, or at least thought she knew what went on in the dangerous heghts of the cliff. She did not wish to go anywhere near that place. Not while there was a ruler of the shadows. For now she intended to keep her distance.
Other: Not that I know of.
Age: 3
Gender: Female
Pack: Firepack?
Rank: Omega
Personality: She's hostile, and quiet. She keeps to herself, and doesn't like to speak to others. She has a fierce tamper and loves the excitment that she gets out of a fight. She also loves to outwitt the others around her.
Description: She's almost all white, except for some grey on her back.
Skills: Fighting
Kin: Elegy/Cocophony
History: Nothing special. Her pack split up not too long ago, they lived in a place that couldn't support them, and she went her own way.
Role-play example: From Alverstone
shadowsong said:
OOC: Reserved, I thinkTwilight held the reign for a few precious moments. A time when the sky itself remained nuetral. The sun had sunk beyond the jagged range of the mountains, and the moon had yet to rise. Colors played accross the sky in a fashion that almost seemed chaotic, and tranguil. Such beauty, and yet, it would last for but a moment. The display was only visable when there was no moon, and when the light of the dying sun was still visable flaring from the grave. A seen unknow to anywhere else, it was precious, just through the scarcity. Rare elements, common in the fact that there were so many of them, but rare in the fact that they only had a limited amount of time to shine. Like life itself, time often went too fast. It seemed all too soon these precious things were gone from grasp, never to again illuminate the atmosphere.
Life itself could be rare. Some never were given a fare chance. Others had too long. And yet, there were some that had enough time, but wasted too much of it, living in what they wanted to believe, not what was. Some too wore masks so that others would not see the reality of it all. Oddly enough, all of those things seemed to be true for the the royal line of the pures. Gallipoli had lived such a painful exsistance, that it must have been relief for him to pass, no more pain. But for others like her mother, Amythest, life was too short. Now she was dead. Argento had had his childhood stolen from him, and perhaps he too was dead. If not, it was probable that he was living in his illusions, for that was common for those with a past like his. And Silueta? Silueta was alive, but had lived in her illusions, along with wearing her own mask to hide from the pain. For too long, she had wasted her life.
For too long, Silueta had not accepted the truth. Only after a strange and nerve-wracking expirience had she decided to throw away the veils, tear them down to expose reality, letting it burn her vision, and letting the tears fall, but it had been the only way. She had realized that there had only been one way to live the way her parents would have liked, and that was to see the world as it was, not as she would like it to be. And part of that had been to come back to where she was born. She knew that if there were anything else about her family she didn't know, it would be upon the fable Silver Mountain that she would find the answers. So the journey had begun, so time ago. But now as the task of climbing to her first home, she found her courage deserting her, for she was afraid of what she would find.
The golden femmora sighed, and continued to weave through the trees. The air was quickly cooling, and as much as she would love to not have to sleep tihe night away in another forgein place, she knew that that would be nearly impossible to avoid. Silver Mountain was legues away, and it would be long after the moon had risen before she neared the base. But perhaps that would be best. She knew hardly anyone here, in the valley that had once been her home, and she didn't want to encounter any more mysterious visages than she had too, for it made her nervous. Even if they didn't know her, which most didn't, she had been gone too long, she was constantly staring behind her, watching for any unwanted company who might actually know who she was. She wanted to stay away from that, at least until she knew whether her brother was alive or dead, and who held the title of the lord of the auras.
In the distance, Silver mountain gleamed, highlighted in the last desperate rays of twilight. The snow that always seemed to coat the apex, though usually silver, now seemed to burn beneath the wonderous chaotic inforno. And beneath it open the valley floor. It stood so proud, like a gold crown of a king. Fitting that it should look as such. Most of the lower valley lay beneath the shadows, but some places, including Wind River valley, a small side dip in the mountains near to Silver mountain, and the Cliff beloning to the dark lord also shown brilliantly in the fading rays. Ironically, Torcido's Cliff, the name that Silueta knew it as, held nearly the same regal glow of her former home. But the false beauty did not fool her. She knew, or at least thought she knew what went on in the dangerous heghts of the cliff. She did not wish to go anywhere near that place. Not while there was a ruler of the shadows. For now she intended to keep her distance.
Other: Not that I know of.