Post by vecordious on Dec 28, 2006 11:54:07 GMT -5
Name:
Cat. It's my nickname, in real life, so that's what I'm calling my name.
Username:
Vecordious. Always. Except on older things, such as Neopets.
Age:
Basically 15. Yeah, I feel young. I'm told I'm mature for my age, however.
Location:
I've got two. New Hampshire [ My current main location, in the southern half of it.]
And Massachusetts [Quincy, to be exact. my hometown; where I spent over half my life.. I was born in Boston, raised in Quincy. The best place ever, by the way.]
How Long You've Been RPing:
Roughly three years now, maybe four.
Contact:
DefinitelyVMaybe, my AIM name, is a very good contact. Otherwise, neomail me, or PM me on here.
I am also on Furcadia a lot. My main is Vecordious there.
Favorites:
.Silver. Video Games. [Monster Hunter and Spyro are the best]. Saw. Animals. Nachos. Dragons.
Neopets SN:
xstarxstruckx
Website:
Don't got one.
RP Example:
I don't often Role Play anything other than wolves, though I love doing Stable Role Plays [or anything to do with horses for that matter], Warriors Role Plays , or Highschool-type Role Plays. Anything else, I probably won't do.
I'm going to give a couple examples of how I Role Play, with a couple different characters. However, these will all be of wolves, simply because I haven't Role Played anything else in quite some time.
First; this is of my own made up hybrid. He is a mix of two heraldic beings; both with a bit of wolf in him. Yare is his name, and he is a mix between an Enfield Beast and a Calopus.
Of all the seasons to frantic about in, winter had to be the worst. And of all the days to wander off in, why was this one so special?
Petite slumber had encased this almighty being in a deep sleep; much like eternal rest. However, it had been a state, for this hybrid creature, that even the most sensitive of sounds would conger him forth. Proving so; elongated, vivid sterling acoustics would swoop forward, cupped, as to hark in the distant, fading sounds of those who had passed him by in recent moments previous to the present. Curiosity peaked at that exactly moment.
The whole night this luminescent topaz mascu had claimed his perched upon the sun-warmed granite that his bulky mass contained now, allowing the others in the den to rest blissfully in their confinement. Unfortunately, the job of this wolven beast seemed to be forever in the works. Cause and effort plagued it's web unto this naturally tangerine being; haven pulverized his with light ivorn flakes that were slowly melting due to his defreezing body heat.
Vigorous shake of his mint and earthen lined peltage scattered any traces of marble powder that had been trapped within his own vicinity; though trace water from his shake seeped through his silken fur to chill heated flesh. Twitch of pale skin was given as too shoo away the pesky, cold water, and his actions proved effective; Yare was now clear of snow and water. And so his walk would begin.
Obsidian nares flared harshly in an attempt to engulf each and every scent around him. A rush of different things came to his sensory; from firs to pack scents. Fox-shaped skull would allow itself a turning point upon his craned nape, scanning the area, making sure to take all in with ample detail. Spiraled horns protruded from the eastern and western corridors of his dainty crania; curling out to be adjacent to his own amber-tinted occuli.
Swift movement overflowed in evanescence as his rippling mass sway haphazardly from side to side. Warrior-like posture was presumed at this particular time frame, hackles raised in the lightest of notions; as to feel the gale and make sure he was downwind of it. Sensitive hindpads would merely tap the crestfallen sheet of alabaster beneath his lumbering frame; leaving hardly visible tracks in his hind regions. However, the finest embroidery, perhaps, was left by his fore-region of where gracious frontal mitts should naturally be. However, this considerate creature was born a beast; a brisk hybrid. Bleach underside gave way to Manila fur, that halted only for eagle shanks that formed with mint-tinted scales. Talons of the bird of pray were wielded by Yare; xyresic claws marking clearly spots in the snow.
Flailing movements of wings dawned the curvature of ivory audicals, captured and held prisoner in this beast of burden's acoustic receptory. Crouch was enticed by beckoning shanks and haunches as this Major of a being sunk down into a sleek hunting position. Or at least, that's what one would think. Scruffy yet satin rudder flanked wolven hindlimbs as shoulder blades remained awfully conspicuous; proving true his lion traits. Smug smirk became plastered upon the partline to his trap; endings curving up in the slightest to shun away his friendly smile.
Suddenly, Yare found himself nearly upon the two beings; however, suprise overcame curiosity. There was his alphena of a figure; hellhound in attitude and physique of an exterior, with a lithe jet crow-like creature perched amungst her atmosphere. Something dawned upon this heavenly wolven-like creature that the bird of pray which Disreputable flattered with conversation was not an average crow. However, in the camouflage of bushes doused in winter's blanket, Yare was downwind and blending in. Surely the scene would unveil himself in the most wanted of ways. That is, until the next unfortunate action was taken.
Peltage collided light with the underbrush that hid this creature and mingled with his scent; catapulting light, cocaine-like powder upon his pale ebon scentor; cannonading forth a massive expulsion of air through those delicate nostrils; sneeze audible and echoing through the winter wonderland. With a sigh after his sneeze was completely, Yare had on an embarrassed sort of smirk smile as he peered over the hedge unto his Alpha and the accompanying creature.
Second, is one of a normal wolf character of mine. However, she does have a bit of unnatural colors; but I can do realistic Wolf Role Plays rather easily.
The forlorn atmosphere that had crept in about the time of their dear alphen's, Rambo's, death, still clung tight to all who had breathed it in. However, it was not unaverage for this pinewood fatale to harbor such an aura; forsaken by a plague of insanity this creature was. And once you were touched by it, much like immortality, there was no turning back. A pity she couldn't turn her back on the death's of others.
Especially the Black Rampage. It was nothing personal, perhaps [at least that's what she'd make you think], but Disreputable, Unrespectable, nor any other commanding figure would amount to anything compared to the monochrome being that had blessed this pack with the life and vitality it had grown to adapt. And, thinking of this, darkened Vecordious's outlook upon life. Yet still, this vixen would remain to appear unphased by such actions; it was the course of life, after all, taking it's rightful place. And no one could ever change that.
Same entrance as always; this red wolf of a feminine beast would cannonaded her silent stroll throughout the cavern's entrance, serenading the smooth earthen carpet with pads seemingly blessed by the gods. Acoustics of near-sublime receptory crept to their peaks slowly, as if the faint, distant respiratory action of her Alphena had drifted into her sound-catchers.
Nod of an absent minded sort was given to the hellion as this Gamma fem made her appearance known; erupting slyly from the dark abyss known as the shadows. Damp moisture filtered through her silken peltage; mocha spinal regions lay in complete but contempt disarray, as if rebelling against her own heavenly bodice. Dial marked with years of burns and scrapes flung high, almost in defiance, as onyx nares flared to inhale neighboring scents other than her own and what she'd dragged in.
Often times was Vecordious on her toes about things; frontal mitts ready to lunge her iridescent form at any opposing force; yet now she seemed to be consumed in a relaxed manor. Rudder of fatigued proportions flailed ruthlessly for a moment by reclined hindpillars; only to calm down and accompany resting northern limbs as this dastardly tempest bothered to reload her artillery and lay down. Noble crania flexed her delicate nape as the femora touched her chin to her wiry yet ample chest; beckoning the slumber spirit forth from the fatale nearest her, subconscious nearly winning her over.
" Awaken if you want to play the game of life. Slumber if you want only to strife. Daze if eternity means nothing to you; listen to no one, for nothing is true."
Third, if a puppy of mine named Loxotic. He is a hybrid, and has many 'different' special abilities. This was just me posting a demonstration of his powers.
Child of a lupine creature would let rise a horned tiara of dainty proportions. The pup dared to challenge him? Then so be it. Thick yet lankly limbs supported his wiry mass upon ever-shifting stilts; it seemed this young wolf would not halt for anything. Preparing to pounce on the pup no older than himself, Ox had to think of a plan, and quick. Auds were allowed to sit erect atop his silken dome of multiple shades while jaded optical lenses of grass gazed out upon the world, and upon the one he would be sparring with shortly.
And just like that; the lightning-fast mutant struck Loxotic with a fatal blow, or so it seemed. Cobra-like fangs lunged clean through shoulder flesh and fur to hit the bloodstream. A yowl of pain erupted from his raspy larynx; the young masculine beast found himself in a world of pain. Neon aquatic liquid oozed from the wound; luckily deflecting the poison which would have slowly killed him from the wound of this adversary. Lowing her staggeringly mighty crown did the canine swipe it sideways across his opponents'; letting dainty horns attempting to strike their mark and tear through facial flesh.
Unleashing a series of snarls; Loxotic allowed nips to accompany these; none of which proved fatal. However, once the opponent was found completely on his toes in attempting to dodge the little things; Ox went in for the final bite.
{Yes, because I am making this up, and just me, I'm going to say the other pup got hit. However, obviously I do not Powerplay/God Mode or any of that crazy stuff. This is just for demonstration >.<}
Wide-open trap clamped down quicker than a crocodile's upon the lithe pup's chest. Scarlet blood gushed from the wound; and though it was rather shallow, this brujo had hit deep enough to conger up blood, allowing hooked-canines to lodge themselves within the puppy and make for a better hold and a more secure position as the triumphant one here. Venom seeped through pore-like opening in the wolven's fangs and slipped their way into the other being's bloodstream, as often Loxotic did with his prey.
Suddenly, stalwart paw sliced a fatal mark across this beast's neck, causing fangs to be ripped from flesh and a young wolven cast through the air only to greet the ground with an eerie crack. Twisting to stand, Ox yelped but recovered emotionally rather quickly; compared, at least, to the sight before him.
His opponent was hunched over, though still standing; and just barely. Wheezing could be heard as flanks heaved to support the little breath this young pup thought he was getting. However, in truth the wolf was getting the normal amount of breath; but the poison cast into his system immediately plagued his brain with the thoughts of his lungs not working up to potential capacity. Legs would buckle because of this; nape craned so far he tiara almost touched the ground. Nares flared and dial was open to the further brink, as if that would help his problem. But Loxotic wasn't totally heartless.
Taking this valuable time to gather up energy, the young wolf bunched muscles in fore and hind quarters to lunged straight on at the side of the wolf; causing such and impacted surely not only would he go flying; but his foe would surely be knocked clear from his current state and the venom's affect would cease just like that.
Finally, my wolf Artuate, who is red, white, and black. He is seeing the Alpha pups for the first time.
A being perhaps of the epitome of devotion was he. Regaled atmosphere consumed his wiry frame, placing the Delta, placid, among his pack mates; both of superior and subordinate rankings. However, this very wolven creature cared not for 'rankings', for to him they were merely another name one could be addressed by. And, Artuate himself knew all to well what damage the simple verbal expression of an name could do. After all, this humble, gentle beast of burden was cursed with a calling that doubled as his sobriquet, simply because none dared to know him long enough to create one. Artuate; to tear limb from limb. Some loving name his feminine guardian had bestowed unto the natural warrior. However, one could not argue with it, especially one of his form. A name did not make a wolf; but a heart and soul does.
Careful consideration shown in pale icicle globes, often rumored to be created by the most pure of moonlight. In contradiction to this, however, was that sterling sheen in his visual lenses that contained an almost joyous glimpse of something upon the lines of hope; as if these puppies meant more to him then they should. Following about the lines of his thoughts trailed him to recall more forlorn of memories; the days of his past. After all, though they were filled, like many, with death and sorrow, there was happiness and contempt somewhere in there as well. Somewhere in those long lost memories of his ancient history lay the dormant days of his kin and he frolicking about.
Funny, as each youth-plagued spawn fumbled about their kin and guardians, each word or reverberating sound clashed into the midst of silence that lingered about Artuate himself. Engulfed in serenity which in turn made him oblivious to a few things for the moment, he recalled the days of his sibling, the only one he'd ever known... teaching each other. Though the scarlet-dyed being did not recall what they were teaching each other - or rather, practicing - whatever it was probably was not the best of things. And this brought the brute upon the other recollection; his sister's name was nearly as cursed as his own. Acrasy; Anarchy, in literal translation. A pity; the utmost of kindness and generosity corrupted by the ways of their birth guardians. What a way to start out life.
Southern half of the brujo's prominently crimson skull would grace the air with a curt nod, as if just now acknowledging the current state of things. Slight smirk, though not smug; more congratulating, would appear upon the part line of northern and southernmost jaws; tainting the curvature of the hindmost tips to curl upwards in a smiling sort of affect. Marble-tipped rudder curved neatly aside his hefty haunches as the Delta Male reclined his noble, lithe bodice unto the earthen carpet. As onyx spinal region corrected itself into an acceptable and perhaps regal manor, bittersweet larynx would clear itself to allow a voice box its chance to shine. After all, it was not often which this being would speak; especially in such a large number.
" The pride of the world pups are. And to be of Alphen heritage; may the heavens bestow each and every one of them with a sacred fate... perhaps even one none of us seem worthy for."
Though honey-coated tone suggested Artuate's own sort of excitement, a glazed look entered his facial area, light snort expelled through obsidian nares for the briefest of moments. Then, forsaken glance through vivid stone occulars would clash upon the Desirs Malveillants' Alphena; an almighty beast, and one to hail for sure. A quite regaling thing this Delta would do often; whether it was out of line or not, the lupine would speak his mind without holding or looking back. And so, his cadence of lyrics serenaded on.
" I, myself, will do whatever it is I can for them. I failed my sister when she needed me most... and I will make up for my sins. Your pups are the future; and we can only do the best we can."
Faint smile would dim a bit, as if the wolven creature was regretting something.. or remembering a painful memory. Either way, deep Burgundy acoustics would shift and shake with each sound that made its presence; harking to and fro when necessary to catch all the illuminating sounds of the surrounding cavern. If only he had found this nirvana sooner... maybe things would have turned out different.
Cat. It's my nickname, in real life, so that's what I'm calling my name.
Username:
Vecordious. Always. Except on older things, such as Neopets.
Age:
Basically 15. Yeah, I feel young. I'm told I'm mature for my age, however.
Location:
I've got two. New Hampshire [ My current main location, in the southern half of it.]
And Massachusetts [Quincy, to be exact. my hometown; where I spent over half my life.. I was born in Boston, raised in Quincy. The best place ever, by the way.]
How Long You've Been RPing:
Roughly three years now, maybe four.
Contact:
DefinitelyVMaybe, my AIM name, is a very good contact. Otherwise, neomail me, or PM me on here.
I am also on Furcadia a lot. My main is Vecordious there.
Favorites:
.Silver. Video Games. [Monster Hunter and Spyro are the best]. Saw. Animals. Nachos. Dragons.
Neopets SN:
xstarxstruckx
Website:
Don't got one.
RP Example:
I don't often Role Play anything other than wolves, though I love doing Stable Role Plays [or anything to do with horses for that matter], Warriors Role Plays , or Highschool-type Role Plays. Anything else, I probably won't do.
I'm going to give a couple examples of how I Role Play, with a couple different characters. However, these will all be of wolves, simply because I haven't Role Played anything else in quite some time.
First; this is of my own made up hybrid. He is a mix of two heraldic beings; both with a bit of wolf in him. Yare is his name, and he is a mix between an Enfield Beast and a Calopus.
Of all the seasons to frantic about in, winter had to be the worst. And of all the days to wander off in, why was this one so special?
Petite slumber had encased this almighty being in a deep sleep; much like eternal rest. However, it had been a state, for this hybrid creature, that even the most sensitive of sounds would conger him forth. Proving so; elongated, vivid sterling acoustics would swoop forward, cupped, as to hark in the distant, fading sounds of those who had passed him by in recent moments previous to the present. Curiosity peaked at that exactly moment.
The whole night this luminescent topaz mascu had claimed his perched upon the sun-warmed granite that his bulky mass contained now, allowing the others in the den to rest blissfully in their confinement. Unfortunately, the job of this wolven beast seemed to be forever in the works. Cause and effort plagued it's web unto this naturally tangerine being; haven pulverized his with light ivorn flakes that were slowly melting due to his defreezing body heat.
Vigorous shake of his mint and earthen lined peltage scattered any traces of marble powder that had been trapped within his own vicinity; though trace water from his shake seeped through his silken fur to chill heated flesh. Twitch of pale skin was given as too shoo away the pesky, cold water, and his actions proved effective; Yare was now clear of snow and water. And so his walk would begin.
Obsidian nares flared harshly in an attempt to engulf each and every scent around him. A rush of different things came to his sensory; from firs to pack scents. Fox-shaped skull would allow itself a turning point upon his craned nape, scanning the area, making sure to take all in with ample detail. Spiraled horns protruded from the eastern and western corridors of his dainty crania; curling out to be adjacent to his own amber-tinted occuli.
Swift movement overflowed in evanescence as his rippling mass sway haphazardly from side to side. Warrior-like posture was presumed at this particular time frame, hackles raised in the lightest of notions; as to feel the gale and make sure he was downwind of it. Sensitive hindpads would merely tap the crestfallen sheet of alabaster beneath his lumbering frame; leaving hardly visible tracks in his hind regions. However, the finest embroidery, perhaps, was left by his fore-region of where gracious frontal mitts should naturally be. However, this considerate creature was born a beast; a brisk hybrid. Bleach underside gave way to Manila fur, that halted only for eagle shanks that formed with mint-tinted scales. Talons of the bird of pray were wielded by Yare; xyresic claws marking clearly spots in the snow.
Flailing movements of wings dawned the curvature of ivory audicals, captured and held prisoner in this beast of burden's acoustic receptory. Crouch was enticed by beckoning shanks and haunches as this Major of a being sunk down into a sleek hunting position. Or at least, that's what one would think. Scruffy yet satin rudder flanked wolven hindlimbs as shoulder blades remained awfully conspicuous; proving true his lion traits. Smug smirk became plastered upon the partline to his trap; endings curving up in the slightest to shun away his friendly smile.
Suddenly, Yare found himself nearly upon the two beings; however, suprise overcame curiosity. There was his alphena of a figure; hellhound in attitude and physique of an exterior, with a lithe jet crow-like creature perched amungst her atmosphere. Something dawned upon this heavenly wolven-like creature that the bird of pray which Disreputable flattered with conversation was not an average crow. However, in the camouflage of bushes doused in winter's blanket, Yare was downwind and blending in. Surely the scene would unveil himself in the most wanted of ways. That is, until the next unfortunate action was taken.
Peltage collided light with the underbrush that hid this creature and mingled with his scent; catapulting light, cocaine-like powder upon his pale ebon scentor; cannonading forth a massive expulsion of air through those delicate nostrils; sneeze audible and echoing through the winter wonderland. With a sigh after his sneeze was completely, Yare had on an embarrassed sort of smirk smile as he peered over the hedge unto his Alpha and the accompanying creature.
Second, is one of a normal wolf character of mine. However, she does have a bit of unnatural colors; but I can do realistic Wolf Role Plays rather easily.
The forlorn atmosphere that had crept in about the time of their dear alphen's, Rambo's, death, still clung tight to all who had breathed it in. However, it was not unaverage for this pinewood fatale to harbor such an aura; forsaken by a plague of insanity this creature was. And once you were touched by it, much like immortality, there was no turning back. A pity she couldn't turn her back on the death's of others.
Especially the Black Rampage. It was nothing personal, perhaps [at least that's what she'd make you think], but Disreputable, Unrespectable, nor any other commanding figure would amount to anything compared to the monochrome being that had blessed this pack with the life and vitality it had grown to adapt. And, thinking of this, darkened Vecordious's outlook upon life. Yet still, this vixen would remain to appear unphased by such actions; it was the course of life, after all, taking it's rightful place. And no one could ever change that.
Same entrance as always; this red wolf of a feminine beast would cannonaded her silent stroll throughout the cavern's entrance, serenading the smooth earthen carpet with pads seemingly blessed by the gods. Acoustics of near-sublime receptory crept to their peaks slowly, as if the faint, distant respiratory action of her Alphena had drifted into her sound-catchers.
Nod of an absent minded sort was given to the hellion as this Gamma fem made her appearance known; erupting slyly from the dark abyss known as the shadows. Damp moisture filtered through her silken peltage; mocha spinal regions lay in complete but contempt disarray, as if rebelling against her own heavenly bodice. Dial marked with years of burns and scrapes flung high, almost in defiance, as onyx nares flared to inhale neighboring scents other than her own and what she'd dragged in.
Often times was Vecordious on her toes about things; frontal mitts ready to lunge her iridescent form at any opposing force; yet now she seemed to be consumed in a relaxed manor. Rudder of fatigued proportions flailed ruthlessly for a moment by reclined hindpillars; only to calm down and accompany resting northern limbs as this dastardly tempest bothered to reload her artillery and lay down. Noble crania flexed her delicate nape as the femora touched her chin to her wiry yet ample chest; beckoning the slumber spirit forth from the fatale nearest her, subconscious nearly winning her over.
" Awaken if you want to play the game of life. Slumber if you want only to strife. Daze if eternity means nothing to you; listen to no one, for nothing is true."
Third, if a puppy of mine named Loxotic. He is a hybrid, and has many 'different' special abilities. This was just me posting a demonstration of his powers.
Child of a lupine creature would let rise a horned tiara of dainty proportions. The pup dared to challenge him? Then so be it. Thick yet lankly limbs supported his wiry mass upon ever-shifting stilts; it seemed this young wolf would not halt for anything. Preparing to pounce on the pup no older than himself, Ox had to think of a plan, and quick. Auds were allowed to sit erect atop his silken dome of multiple shades while jaded optical lenses of grass gazed out upon the world, and upon the one he would be sparring with shortly.
And just like that; the lightning-fast mutant struck Loxotic with a fatal blow, or so it seemed. Cobra-like fangs lunged clean through shoulder flesh and fur to hit the bloodstream. A yowl of pain erupted from his raspy larynx; the young masculine beast found himself in a world of pain. Neon aquatic liquid oozed from the wound; luckily deflecting the poison which would have slowly killed him from the wound of this adversary. Lowing her staggeringly mighty crown did the canine swipe it sideways across his opponents'; letting dainty horns attempting to strike their mark and tear through facial flesh.
Unleashing a series of snarls; Loxotic allowed nips to accompany these; none of which proved fatal. However, once the opponent was found completely on his toes in attempting to dodge the little things; Ox went in for the final bite.
{Yes, because I am making this up, and just me, I'm going to say the other pup got hit. However, obviously I do not Powerplay/God Mode or any of that crazy stuff. This is just for demonstration >.<}
Wide-open trap clamped down quicker than a crocodile's upon the lithe pup's chest. Scarlet blood gushed from the wound; and though it was rather shallow, this brujo had hit deep enough to conger up blood, allowing hooked-canines to lodge themselves within the puppy and make for a better hold and a more secure position as the triumphant one here. Venom seeped through pore-like opening in the wolven's fangs and slipped their way into the other being's bloodstream, as often Loxotic did with his prey.
Suddenly, stalwart paw sliced a fatal mark across this beast's neck, causing fangs to be ripped from flesh and a young wolven cast through the air only to greet the ground with an eerie crack. Twisting to stand, Ox yelped but recovered emotionally rather quickly; compared, at least, to the sight before him.
His opponent was hunched over, though still standing; and just barely. Wheezing could be heard as flanks heaved to support the little breath this young pup thought he was getting. However, in truth the wolf was getting the normal amount of breath; but the poison cast into his system immediately plagued his brain with the thoughts of his lungs not working up to potential capacity. Legs would buckle because of this; nape craned so far he tiara almost touched the ground. Nares flared and dial was open to the further brink, as if that would help his problem. But Loxotic wasn't totally heartless.
Taking this valuable time to gather up energy, the young wolf bunched muscles in fore and hind quarters to lunged straight on at the side of the wolf; causing such and impacted surely not only would he go flying; but his foe would surely be knocked clear from his current state and the venom's affect would cease just like that.
Finally, my wolf Artuate, who is red, white, and black. He is seeing the Alpha pups for the first time.
A being perhaps of the epitome of devotion was he. Regaled atmosphere consumed his wiry frame, placing the Delta, placid, among his pack mates; both of superior and subordinate rankings. However, this very wolven creature cared not for 'rankings', for to him they were merely another name one could be addressed by. And, Artuate himself knew all to well what damage the simple verbal expression of an name could do. After all, this humble, gentle beast of burden was cursed with a calling that doubled as his sobriquet, simply because none dared to know him long enough to create one. Artuate; to tear limb from limb. Some loving name his feminine guardian had bestowed unto the natural warrior. However, one could not argue with it, especially one of his form. A name did not make a wolf; but a heart and soul does.
Careful consideration shown in pale icicle globes, often rumored to be created by the most pure of moonlight. In contradiction to this, however, was that sterling sheen in his visual lenses that contained an almost joyous glimpse of something upon the lines of hope; as if these puppies meant more to him then they should. Following about the lines of his thoughts trailed him to recall more forlorn of memories; the days of his past. After all, though they were filled, like many, with death and sorrow, there was happiness and contempt somewhere in there as well. Somewhere in those long lost memories of his ancient history lay the dormant days of his kin and he frolicking about.
Funny, as each youth-plagued spawn fumbled about their kin and guardians, each word or reverberating sound clashed into the midst of silence that lingered about Artuate himself. Engulfed in serenity which in turn made him oblivious to a few things for the moment, he recalled the days of his sibling, the only one he'd ever known... teaching each other. Though the scarlet-dyed being did not recall what they were teaching each other - or rather, practicing - whatever it was probably was not the best of things. And this brought the brute upon the other recollection; his sister's name was nearly as cursed as his own. Acrasy; Anarchy, in literal translation. A pity; the utmost of kindness and generosity corrupted by the ways of their birth guardians. What a way to start out life.
Southern half of the brujo's prominently crimson skull would grace the air with a curt nod, as if just now acknowledging the current state of things. Slight smirk, though not smug; more congratulating, would appear upon the part line of northern and southernmost jaws; tainting the curvature of the hindmost tips to curl upwards in a smiling sort of affect. Marble-tipped rudder curved neatly aside his hefty haunches as the Delta Male reclined his noble, lithe bodice unto the earthen carpet. As onyx spinal region corrected itself into an acceptable and perhaps regal manor, bittersweet larynx would clear itself to allow a voice box its chance to shine. After all, it was not often which this being would speak; especially in such a large number.
" The pride of the world pups are. And to be of Alphen heritage; may the heavens bestow each and every one of them with a sacred fate... perhaps even one none of us seem worthy for."
Though honey-coated tone suggested Artuate's own sort of excitement, a glazed look entered his facial area, light snort expelled through obsidian nares for the briefest of moments. Then, forsaken glance through vivid stone occulars would clash upon the Desirs Malveillants' Alphena; an almighty beast, and one to hail for sure. A quite regaling thing this Delta would do often; whether it was out of line or not, the lupine would speak his mind without holding or looking back. And so, his cadence of lyrics serenaded on.
" I, myself, will do whatever it is I can for them. I failed my sister when she needed me most... and I will make up for my sins. Your pups are the future; and we can only do the best we can."
Faint smile would dim a bit, as if the wolven creature was regretting something.. or remembering a painful memory. Either way, deep Burgundy acoustics would shift and shake with each sound that made its presence; harking to and fro when necessary to catch all the illuminating sounds of the surrounding cavern. If only he had found this nirvana sooner... maybe things would have turned out different.
.: * Yeah, I tend to over-do these sort of things, but oh well. I can't help it. * :.
