Post by Ritz on Sept 7, 2007 11:32:51 GMT -5
So You Think You Know,
Name:
Bleach
Clan:
Rouge
How This Story Goes,
Position:
-
Age:
21 Moons
Are You Ready For This?
Gender:
Tom
Peltage:
Beautiful until he turns his eyes on you. Bleaches pelt is the purest white, broken by his multiple scars. His body is broad, with powerful shoulders. By the way he carries himself, with his head held and tail held high, Bleach invites a fight at all times. His long legs give him an advantage when chasing down his query, be it feline, vermin, or feathered. However, the powerfully muscled limbs are of no use when it comes to running away. Bleach does not run.
While some would say that most white cats look the same, as well as black cats, Bleaches most identifiable feature is his eyes. Honey-brown in color, but anything but warm underneath. His eyes reflect the inner beast inside him that thirsts for blood and carnage. Eyes that warn any challenger that he's not likely to let them survive, eyes that show his true nature. Eyes that hold his prey within their ice-cold grip. Eyes that show the madness that eats away at Bleaches soul.
If he has a soul, that is.
The one scar that proves a sore spot for the white tom, is three long scars on his right shoulder. Placed there by his mother after his sisters murder. The first real scars he was given. And, consequently, the last his mother would ever give. Ask him about that if you ever get a chance to meet him, what happened to his family. Chances are, he just might show you.
Said Your Two Cents Now It's My Turn,
Picture:
BLEACH
Personality:
Bleach has a personality not even his mother could love; a murderous fiend intent on wreaking havoc and destruction wherever he goes. Why? Thats a story for another day. Bleach has a monster in him that thirsts for blood, and he has every intention of satisfying that need when it arises. Why ignore ones true nature?
Maybe hes the way he is because his father left his mother long before he was born. Maybe he was just born that way to start with. Maybe his mothers spiraling depression after his father left solidified and became the monster of a tom's heart. Whatever the reason, Bleach embraces who he is enthusiastically. Does he feel remorse for those he's hilled? Not in the slightest. Do his deeds keep him up at night, writhing in his sleep as Starclan torment him? No, you'd have to believe in Starclan to dream of them.
And Bleach downright refuses to believe a bunch of dead cats could control him.
Any advice regarding him? Stay away. Bleach is no romantic, whose heart will miraculously soften should he ever fall in love. Whether or not he has it in him to fall in love is a mystery in and of itself. Whatever happens, Bleach is Bleach to the end and forever more.
So Sit Down, Shut Up,
IC:
((To explain things briefly, Bleach is usually my Irish wolfhound mix on canine RPG's. This is part of a thread he's participating in on my own site))
------
The white brute watched silently as a small fae emerged from the shadows. He regarded her with mild interest, not speaking. His hackles lowered, and his defensive pose relaxed slightly. Bleach very rarely took faes as a threat, unless they happened to be either very large, or have that certain look in their eyes. The look that Bleach was very familiar with. He had once seen his reflection when the bloodlust was very close to overwhelming him, as it did on occasion. It had been strangely satisfying. Not satisfying the way you might feel after seceding in a hunt, not even close. It was satisfying the way Bleach had considered the mangled corpses of his family as the writhed and tried to suck in air through a throat to damaged to work. It was satisfying the way warm blood flowed into his mouth as he made that deadly attack. Bleach was not only familiar with that look, he was embracing of it. To him, it was like the scent of fresh blood when you'd been feeding on garbage for weeks. If this female could show such a look, she didn't now.
“Lo, M’Love. I am Misery, what a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”
Ears shades darker then the rest of his wiry white body twitched at her words. Honey brown eyes that were anything but sweet glinted with mild interest. Misery? A fitting name for one who wandered in these parts. The brute didn't much care what any of his subordinates did, so long as they obeyed his laws. And the law that he, personally, enjoyed enforcing most, was the law that stated No Mercy. Any unwelcome dog was bound to feel the fangs of an Argentum dog. Was this Misery welcome? The corners of his canine lips twitched slightly. "And you, M'dear." He spoke in his deep rumbling bark, so very different from the song-like words that belonged to the Fae. Bleaches dialog was one of the few things that survived of his mother. He always laughed inwardly at the cold way he would be seemingly polite to others. Anyone who bothered to listen behind the words he spoke would hear the words he meant. 'So someone new has wandered onto my territory. What is it that makes our meeting such a pleasure?'
Bleach regarded her again, feeling his wiry fur starting to stick together as it started to mist. He hadn't been very happy this season, it had been far to wet. His fur tended to stick together and matt during such hot, humid weather. Granted, other dogs fangs tended to get tangled in his matts to a point that they were just an extra protection. That didn't stop Bleach from scratching himself raw when they itched and pulled at his flesh.
Code:
Blood
Are You Ready For This?
[/color][/size]Name:
Bleach
Clan:
Rouge
How This Story Goes,
Position:
-
Age:
21 Moons
Are You Ready For This?
Gender:
Tom
Peltage:
Beautiful until he turns his eyes on you. Bleaches pelt is the purest white, broken by his multiple scars. His body is broad, with powerful shoulders. By the way he carries himself, with his head held and tail held high, Bleach invites a fight at all times. His long legs give him an advantage when chasing down his query, be it feline, vermin, or feathered. However, the powerfully muscled limbs are of no use when it comes to running away. Bleach does not run.
While some would say that most white cats look the same, as well as black cats, Bleaches most identifiable feature is his eyes. Honey-brown in color, but anything but warm underneath. His eyes reflect the inner beast inside him that thirsts for blood and carnage. Eyes that warn any challenger that he's not likely to let them survive, eyes that show his true nature. Eyes that hold his prey within their ice-cold grip. Eyes that show the madness that eats away at Bleaches soul.
If he has a soul, that is.
The one scar that proves a sore spot for the white tom, is three long scars on his right shoulder. Placed there by his mother after his sisters murder. The first real scars he was given. And, consequently, the last his mother would ever give. Ask him about that if you ever get a chance to meet him, what happened to his family. Chances are, he just might show you.
Said Your Two Cents Now It's My Turn,
Picture:
BLEACH
Personality:
Bleach has a personality not even his mother could love; a murderous fiend intent on wreaking havoc and destruction wherever he goes. Why? Thats a story for another day. Bleach has a monster in him that thirsts for blood, and he has every intention of satisfying that need when it arises. Why ignore ones true nature?
Maybe hes the way he is because his father left his mother long before he was born. Maybe he was just born that way to start with. Maybe his mothers spiraling depression after his father left solidified and became the monster of a tom's heart. Whatever the reason, Bleach embraces who he is enthusiastically. Does he feel remorse for those he's hilled? Not in the slightest. Do his deeds keep him up at night, writhing in his sleep as Starclan torment him? No, you'd have to believe in Starclan to dream of them.
And Bleach downright refuses to believe a bunch of dead cats could control him.
Any advice regarding him? Stay away. Bleach is no romantic, whose heart will miraculously soften should he ever fall in love. Whether or not he has it in him to fall in love is a mystery in and of itself. Whatever happens, Bleach is Bleach to the end and forever more.
So Sit Down, Shut Up,
IC:
((To explain things briefly, Bleach is usually my Irish wolfhound mix on canine RPG's. This is part of a thread he's participating in on my own site))
------
The white brute watched silently as a small fae emerged from the shadows. He regarded her with mild interest, not speaking. His hackles lowered, and his defensive pose relaxed slightly. Bleach very rarely took faes as a threat, unless they happened to be either very large, or have that certain look in their eyes. The look that Bleach was very familiar with. He had once seen his reflection when the bloodlust was very close to overwhelming him, as it did on occasion. It had been strangely satisfying. Not satisfying the way you might feel after seceding in a hunt, not even close. It was satisfying the way Bleach had considered the mangled corpses of his family as the writhed and tried to suck in air through a throat to damaged to work. It was satisfying the way warm blood flowed into his mouth as he made that deadly attack. Bleach was not only familiar with that look, he was embracing of it. To him, it was like the scent of fresh blood when you'd been feeding on garbage for weeks. If this female could show such a look, she didn't now.
“Lo, M’Love. I am Misery, what a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”
Ears shades darker then the rest of his wiry white body twitched at her words. Honey brown eyes that were anything but sweet glinted with mild interest. Misery? A fitting name for one who wandered in these parts. The brute didn't much care what any of his subordinates did, so long as they obeyed his laws. And the law that he, personally, enjoyed enforcing most, was the law that stated No Mercy. Any unwelcome dog was bound to feel the fangs of an Argentum dog. Was this Misery welcome? The corners of his canine lips twitched slightly. "And you, M'dear." He spoke in his deep rumbling bark, so very different from the song-like words that belonged to the Fae. Bleaches dialog was one of the few things that survived of his mother. He always laughed inwardly at the cold way he would be seemingly polite to others. Anyone who bothered to listen behind the words he spoke would hear the words he meant. 'So someone new has wandered onto my territory. What is it that makes our meeting such a pleasure?'
Bleach regarded her again, feeling his wiry fur starting to stick together as it started to mist. He hadn't been very happy this season, it had been far to wet. His fur tended to stick together and matt during such hot, humid weather. Granted, other dogs fangs tended to get tangled in his matts to a point that they were just an extra protection. That didn't stop Bleach from scratching himself raw when they itched and pulled at his flesh.
Code:
Blood
Are You Ready For This?
Yes, my bleachie is a little on the crazy side, I'll try to reign in his violence once I start posting ^.^"
Song = Are You Ready? - Three Days Grace.
Bleach = © to Ritz
And Yes, I'm almost always this long-winded
