Posted by Savages | A Literate RP | Apps&Info

lirriel .˚₊ (#23407)

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Posted on
2015-07-16 13:23:29
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ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ
You are going to die. That’s the truth. You will die quickly or you will die slowly, but make no mistake: you will die. Death will haunt your pawsteps and trail you at every corner. If you live, you will be loved. You will be cherished. Yours will be the story passed on to the next generation, a shining beacon in a sea of shadows stinking of despair. But if you die, no one will mourn you; no one will remember you.

There is no escape. There is no love or hope or a desperate wish made reality when the end seems nigh. There is only pain and suffering and the final snuffing of your candle. Yours is the task given to all able-bodied young adults. The breeders do not need you. They do not want you. Yours is a cur’s life, and you shall die as all curs do.

Defend your pack with your life. Without them you are lost. Without you, they are dead. A cur who abandons their pack is no better than a mad dog. You fight against the wolfhounds, the bastard children of the betrayers and their dogs. Give your lives for the free wolves, so they may live on.


ʀᴜʟᴇs
1.Your character will die. Do not make a character you wish to hold onto! Characters will be killed almost entirely by RNG. They will die randomly and occasionally in very horrific ways (keeping in mind the 16+ rating, of course). You will most likely not get to choose what sort of end your character has!

2. Failure to act in accordance with game lore will be met with warnings if your character is in a position of power. Subsequent failings may result in your character being demoted to keep up with the theme of the game.
3. This rp is literate. Proper grammar + spelling is expected. Please do not post if you are incapable of ensuring your post if well-written. (the occasional mistake is, of course, expected and will not be penalized)

4. This rp does require ~150 words per reply. Replies may be slightly shorter or much longer, but this is a literate roleplay and meaty replies are expected.

5. No powerplaying / godmodding. Taking control of another character’s actions or having access to information you shouldn’t will result in a warning and continuous improper play may result in a banhammer.

6. No graphic mating. Fade-to-black, blah blah. Don’t be weird about your animals.

7. Players may create two characters to begin with. If the player has shown no trouble roleplaying both after one week, they will be allowed to create a third. This may be repeated twice more for a maximum of five characters.



ᴛᴇʀᴍs
free wolves: intelligent wolves originally developed by humans at the end of the 21st century. on-par with humans in terms of intelligence and possessing of a vastly longer lifespan; a properly-fed and housed free wolf is capable for living upwards of two hundred years

wolfhounds: wolf-dog hybrids; also incredibly intelligent and bred specifically for their unwavering loyalty toward humans. tasked with hunting the free wolves

pack: a small group of curs (typically 7-10, but can be upwards of 15) of unrelated breeding; used to fight against the wolfhounds; packs will occasionally receive new members to replenish their numbers and each pack is assigned a name given at random; a decimated pack’s name will never be used again

curs: wolves tasked with fighting the wolfhounds. these wolves are expected to die and are considered utterly expendable. used derogatively by the high-rankers

civilians: wolves either too old or too feeble or too injured (typically severely handicapped) to continue fighting as curs. also called commoners. pups birthed by them must eventually fight as curs once they reach adult age. no exceptions made.

high-rankers: the “nobility” of the free wolves; wolves capable of tracing their lineage back to the original generation’s leaders and extended family. they are expected to offer at least one pup to fight against the wolfhounds, typically the second-born

breeders: derogative term used by curs to describe the high-rankers

tenderfoot: derogative term used to describe the leaders of packs with relations to high-rankers; these wolves are often expected to “bloody” themselves before being honorably discharged to live amongst the civilians

bloody/bloodied: to kill a wolfhound. most wolves are bloodied once or twice before being cut down in battle; has been adopted by the wolfhounds for a similar purpose. for more information, check the lore post below, beneath the header: "in regards to bloody marks"

savages: refers to: curs who have bloodied themselves an extraordinary number of times; typically re-assigned to lead their own pack; rumor has it that a cur who has bloodied itself one hundred times will be honorably discharged and given the title of high-ranker but the majority are killed before they achieve this. can also refer to: the leaders of the free wolves. in the other section of the sign-up form please place: "a famine upon us all" so i know you read all this. known for their brutal efficiency in eliminating the weak (will rarely if ever be used as the latter descriptor)

sin-eaters: known as the right paw of the ruling savages. typically whom the packs most interact with. known for dealing out harsh punishments to those who skirt the rules. not afraid to make an example out of a cur.

mad dog: another term for a wolfhound; sometimes shortened to “dog”

litter: a wolfhound’s “pack”. made up of unrelated dogs led by one older dog called big brother/big sister by the others. typically 5-10 (no more than 15).


ʀᴀɴᴋs
alpha: leader of a pack. leads the pack in battles and is expected to punish insubordination. failure to punish too often may result in a punishment of their own delivered by a sin-eater. eats first and receives treatment first. (other names: savage or tenderfoot)

beta: second-in-command. tasked with managing resources and keeping up with the daily needs of the pack. may challenge for alpha position. receives care and food second

medic: cur trained in basic medical knowledge. receives food third, will be taken off battlefield if grievously injured to (try and) prevent death. wolfhounds will often attack the medic first if they find a camp

pack: general term used to describe the pack members that are not alpha, beta or medic. the pack must decide amongst itself who eats and receives care first and infighting is common amongst the packs. any pack member may challenge for beta. pack members may also challenge for alpha, but only in deathmatches

scout: a pack member who is used as bait to draw out the wolfhounds for confrontations. high mortality rate. curs assigned the rank of scout are equal with other pack members but may eat first if about to embark on a mission, sometimes called “the last supper” as a morbid joke

sin-eaters: the power behind the alpha. two sin-eaters are assigned per pack and act as the enforcers of the free wolves’ savage rules. sin-eaters are neither curs nor high-rankers and typically relay missions to the alpha and punish improper pack management.

note: pups birthed within a pack will be taken away by sin-eaters to be raised amongst civilians and then reintroduced as a cur in a different pack once they are of-age (family members are kept separated to prevent family alliances)

w o l f h o u n d r a n k s

big brother/sister: the leader of the wolfhound litter. typically the oldest if not the largest. expected to punish and control their litter as they see fit

sister/brother/sibling: term used by the littermates to describe one another.

There is no real control in a wolfhound litter. The mad dogs are put together from a young age and trained together. Typically unfit dogs are killed by their littermates and another is put in their place. Pregnant bitches may be cared for by the litter or left to die/lose her pups. In the other section of the sign-up form please also type your favorite number. There is no real order in a litter aside from the big brother/sister dog.

note: litters are torn apart and eaten by their brethren if even one wolfhound from the litter is found to be consorting with the free wolves. for this reason, litters may often turn on one of their own with little or no prior warning.



ғᴏʀᴍ
Please note: wolfhounds are available for roleplaying! They will receive their own personal events.

name:
age: (the youngest/newest are yearlings, and the oldest are typically four to five years old due to the constant fighting)
faction: curs / wolfhounds
rank: (alpha/beta/pack/sin-eater or big brother|sister/brother|sister|sibling)
personality:
description: (no picture required)
history:
bloodied marks: (yearlings should start off with 0; older wolves may roll a 1D20 to decide; should be between 1 and 20)
STATS:
combat: leave blank
luck: leave blank
healing: leave blank
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE: Should be at least 150 words. This is to give me an idea of your skill level; it does not have to be in the voice of the character you wish to play. Only required for first character
OTHER:


Stats are rolled by Lirriel. Sorry, don’t want anyone rolling perfect 12s. :3


ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ
See the first and second replies for more information! The third reply contains lore if you'd like more backstory!

To Roleplay Thread <-- will be created once enough players have been accepted
To Thread Tracker
To Event Thread <-- will be created once enough players have been accepted
To Savages Family Thread






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Edited on 23/07/15 by Lirriel (#23407)

lirriel .˚₊ (#23407)

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Posted on
2015-07-16 13:23:40

ʙʟᴜᴇsᴛᴏɴᴇ ᴘᴀᴄᴋ
alpha:
VAIL | quiet. calculating. cold. | bio located page 3
position filled

beta:
RESERVED | word. word. word. | bio located __ reserved by Prince Pallis (#42550)
one slot

medic:
BANSHEE | confident. brilliant. lonely. | bio located page 1
position filled

pack:
XERIAS | selfish. flirtatious. devious. | bio located page 2
SEVEN | articulate. cannibalistic. liar. | bio located page 1
VALENTINE | ambitious. bloodthirsty. discriminatory. | bio located page 2
OPEN | word. word. word. | bio located __
OPEN | word. word. word. | bio located __
OPEN | word. word. word. | bio located __
unlimited slots

sin-eater:
NEW MOON | quiet. brutal. charming. | bio located page 1
APOLLO | rude. blunt. cunning. | bio located page 1
both positions filled


sɴᴀᴋᴇ ᴇᴀᴛᴇʀs ʟɪᴛᴛᴇʀ
big brother/sister/sibling:
OPEN | word. word. word. | bio located __
one slot

brothers:
REVELATION | misanthropic. committed. caustic. | bio located page 3
OPEN | word. word. word. | bio located __
unlimited slots

sisters:
OPEN | word. word. word. | bio located __
unlimited slots

siblings:
OPEN | word. word. word. | bio located __
unlimited slots


ɢᴀᴍᴇ ᴍᴇᴄʜᴀɴɪᴄs ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴᴇᴅ

All of the below information will be rolled for WITH DICE by #23407/Lirriel.

Wolves have a 5D20 chance of being a Savage. Wolves that roll a 100 will be labeled a Savage and may adjust their history / personality accordingly.

Pregnant females have a 1D20 chance they will birth live pups that can be taken by the sin-eaters. Pregnant females have a 1D10 chance of death, either from being discovered by wolfhounds, lack of food, or other such incidents. Pregnant females do not typically occur in wolfhound litters but the same principles exist with humans commonly taking the pups.

Upon creation, medics will be assigned at random a healing stat. This stat will help determine how good that medic is at patching up other wolves. Medics can raise their healing stat via treating injured packmates, but if your healing stat is low, expect a lot of wolves to die before you become better. :c (All wolfhounds are assigned a healing stat as there is no dedicated medic.)

All characters will be given a combat and luck stat upon creation. Combat is explanatory, whereas luck has a chance to decrease injuries or even avoid death. Both are only used during random events with NPCs or in player vs. player fights. (NPCs created by players for the purpose of roleplay will not be subjected to these rules.)

In a Player vs. Player fights, participants will be scored based on their posts with a small bonus given to the higher combat-statted character. The losing character will have a chance to use their luck stat to attempt and avoid larger injuries/death.

Random Events will occur once weekly for the entire pack and may occur more frequently for players who interact in smaller groups (by request). Random Events will be posted in the Event Thread!

Stats and rolling only come into playing during Events! During regular roleplay, you are free to ignore them!


ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | sᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ
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The current mission of the free wolves in this area is simple: re-take the deep woods. However, the deep woods are surrounded by hills that crawl with wolfhounds.

bluestone den: Located in a sandy gully just beyond the end of the Red Creek, the bluestone pack's den-site is a well-trodden area, used by numerous curs before them and likely used by many more after. Beware of flooding

snake eaters den: Located in a series of caves that go deep beneath the hills west of the deep woods, this area is still not fully-protected and the wolfhounds have occasionally come across bears while traveling through the cave systems.

red creek: Location of one of the bloodiest battles in the free wolves' history. Named due to the red tinge that stains the bottoms of stones.

lake: The lake is often a point of confrontation for the free wolves and the wolfhounds. So far, no full-scale battles have been waged here, but many believe it is only a matter of time.

deep woods: Known to be brimming with wildlife and so thick that its almost impenetrable to humans, the deep woods are the current goal for the free wolves.






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Edited on 23/07/15 by Lirriel (#23407)

lirriel .˚₊ (#23407)

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Posted on
2015-07-16 13:23:47

ʜᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ
The healing stat is only available on medics in packs. All wolfhounds, excepting the big siblings, have a healing stat. Healing stats are capped at 1D10 at creation but may be raised by the successful treatment of packmates/littermates.

1 = first stat up
3 = second stat up
7 = third stat up
12 = fourth stat up
21 = fifth stat up
etc.

Remember that of all the curs, medics have the greatest chance of survival and as such will likely live the longest.

Based upon the type of injury, medics will have to roll increasingly higher stats to fix up the injured. A newly-made Medic will be unable to heal Grievous Injuries.

Healing is rolled by rolling 1D20 and adding your stat bonus to it. Anything above 10 becomes +1 (so 16 = +6). As such, newly-made characters do not begin with a stat bonus.


INJURIES TABLE OF GOODNESS

pVXbGq9.png

When severe or grievous are rolled, proceed to roll for number of individual wounds.

Small Injuries Include:
Torn claws
Small Scrapes
Strains
Sprains
Baby ouchies. C:

Moderate Injuries Include:
Broken bones
Cracked teeth
Head Injuries (Minor)
Dislocated Limbs
Painful but recoverable stuff

Severe Injuries Include:
Compound Fractures (due to risk of infection)
Heavy Damages (ie “chewed up”)
Head Wounds (Major)
Gaping Wounds
No Belly Slices
has good chance to lead to death if untreated.

Grievous Injuries Include:
Throat Injuries
Stomach Wounds (with organ rupture / mixing)
basically everything that will very likely lead to death without immediate intervention

Injuries are ultimately decided by the player. These are simply ideas. C:




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Edited on 18/07/15 by Lirriel (#23407)

lirriel .˚₊ (#23407)

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Posted on
2015-07-18 12:53:21

Q&A
confused on something? it's either answered here or you need to ask so i can add it here :D


LORE

an incomplete history:
recorded by alanna, the scribe; 3024

the year is 3024. the original generation has long since been decimated. The elders of our time are from the sixth generation. theirs number in the single digits and it is a number dropping daily. we do not fear, for the seventh generation is more expansive than the last. but i fear for the history we lose with their deaths.

none alive today can remember a time when wolves were incapable of intelligent thought. we were beasts then. we were unable to learn and adapt and survive. our creators made us more and pitted us against each other on a global scale. we were captives then. slaves. though to speak of that period in greater detail is taboo amongst the scholars. there was inbreeding, eugenics at work to create the perfect wolf. at some point, our ancestors revolted.

who led this revolt is often a point of contention and disagreements, and i put forth the theory that it was multiple wolves who worked together like the packs of old. regardless of who sparked the revolution, we do know the resulting war was vicious and bloody. we drove humanity to the brink, utilizing their own ingenuity against them. perhaps we would have annihilated them, had events not unfolded as they did.

at some point, a schism occurred. reports tell that in the third generation’s prime, when the original generation was just starting to grow old and feeble and incapable of leading the battles, a young wolf betrayed his people. he spoke of a world where human and wolf could live in harmony. he went throughout our cities, speaking of peace and a world united in friendship. the leaders of that time labeled him a traitor and maimed him. it was only thanks to his high-standing (his father and mother supposedly both highly ranked) that he was able to escape into exile.

the lessons taught to all young wolves today is that his death would have saved countless lives.

he and his followers joined the humans and bred with their domesticated dogs. it was an act seen as wholly obscene, for these animals were still witless and incapable of thinking beyond themselves. some have put forth the idea that the betrayer and his followers had no other choice if they so wished to expand their numbers. regardless of their reasons, the resultant pups were raised as their witless parents had been. genetic loyalty and the intelligence of a free wolf: what a terrifying creation.

These mad dogs were wholly obedient to their human masters and while reports are muddled, it appears humans kept the traitors from their pups, depriving them of proper socialization and teaching them to focus on only one thing: the eradication of the free wolves and the complete obedience toward their human masters. unlike the free wolves, who will mate for life and only birth pups every few years, these new monstrous creations were bred again and again, mixing in different breeds to achieve different forms and shapes.

the next part of the tale is typically gone over in extensive detail for those whom might feel sympathy toward the humans. the traitor wolves were killed. they were killed and used as chewtoys for their children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren. their meat was kept in storage and small bites were given to each wolfhound (a designation we have given regardless of the monster’s heritage) so it would develop a taste for wolven flesh. then the army of mad dogs descended upon our cities.

the resulting impact left us decimated. our civilizations crumbled. we now live in scattered alcoves, fighting a battle we know we cannot win. we did not expect the initial rush and were overwhelmed. many of our greatest achievements were lost, and we were driven from our homes back out into the wild, to live as our ancestors did. the humans play with us now, using our desperate battles as cable tv. and yet we are the largest we’ve been since the creation of the new rules. we expand and grow like a multi-headed hydra. yet i fear for the culture we have lost. i fear for our future when we send so many to their deaths and protect the few. humankind has a far more expansive history than ours, and what books we can recover have often underlined the folly in protecting the chosen few by sacrificing many. even if we survive this war and push the wolfhounds back, i fear for our people. will the next generation be monsters themselves?

alanna, the scribe: died as a cur for propaganda spread against the savages.


in regards to bloody marks:

Initially believed to be an act leftover from the remnants of a ritual carried out by the original wolves, we now can trace its initial origin to the Battle of Lunehaven, during which time Klaus the Savage (a title so given for the 79 wolfhounds killed during his lifetime) claimed each of the wounds on his body was a trophy brought back from a wolfhound slaying. Though Klaus later died of these injuries, overtime a wound that bled greatly came to be called a wolfhound mark.

How this phrase came to eventually be called a bloody mark and indicate a wolfhound killing is unknown.

Wolfhounds are known to have first been recorded calling their own kills “marks” during the reign of the eighth generation. Such close proximity is expected to produce such borrowing of language and such incidents can be found in older history, such as when the wolfhounds, previously called the man-wolves, coyotes, and betrayers, began to call themselves wolfhounds, inspired by how the curs called them “hounds of man”.

Wolfhounds typically record more marks on average than a cur, though our researchers believes this comes from most wolfhound litters working as one, cohesive unit rather than any work done by the humans. While we have approached our superiors in the past with talk of training based around group combat and loyalty, it has been argued that wolves who trust each other become weak and useless. Wolfhounds can be brainwashed. Curs are free wolves, and we will never stoop to such influence.


the elkhorn forest:

The Elkhorn Forest first saw prolonged combat around ten or so years ago. When the skirmishes evolved into full-fledged battles is difficult to pin down, but the first major battle to be fought (and lost) was the Fight at Red Creek. Originally called “that shitty brook” by packs stationed in the area, two fully-outfitted packs (and their sin-eaters) were lost in a bloody and vicious battle against a litter called the Dragonskins by their brethren. Believing to contain over twenty wolfhounds with over one hundred kills to their name, this powerful battle group carved through the Moss Pack before tracking down and killing their sin-eaters, who tried to flee and warn the Sunstone Pack. The Sunstone Pack fled to Red Creek, hoping to mask their scents in the running water and were ambushed there. The water supposedly red ran with blood, and the stones found around this area now have a red look to their underbellies, giving the creek and surrounding area its name.





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Edited on 18/07/15 by Lirriel (#23407)

lirriel .˚₊ (#23407)

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Posted on
2015-07-18 13:19:01
OH LOOK IT'S OPEN.



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lirriel .˚₊ (#23407)

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Posted on
2015-07-18 13:19:28
name: Seven
age: three years
faction: Curs, the Bluestone Pack
rank: Pack
personality:
His is perhaps the most twisted persona. Forever smiling, perpetually calm—his disposition best matches that of a rogue's, but the truth is that there is no heart of gold hidden beneath flesh and fur. Tolerant of males and absolutely adoring of females, Seven goes through life as a cur with all the grace of a seasoned diplomat. The truth of the matter is that he is not and will never be anything resembling a good wolf.

Seven is a good listener and a hard worker. He follows most commands without complaint and is probably the best kind of cur: one who does not disobey his superiors. With Seven, there is no worry of a wavering heart or a hidden agenda. But there is the matter of his unusual tastes. We have not spoken of those, correct?

To be perfectly blunt, Seven is a cannibal. He feasts upon the flesh of his own kind and in anything resembling civilized company he would be called a barbarian and be described as having a sickness, a festering wound deep within the mind. In war, there is no such issue. Seven scavenges upon the cadavers that litter the battlefield; he has never turned his alabaster fangs upon his pack, and as such he is left alone by the sin-eaters. Regardless, it is not an act well-known to his pack, and he continues his masquerade of the gallant ruffian, pleasant and personable.

description:
Seven's description must first begin with the head. It is his most important of features, and it is certainly his most handsome. His skull is fine and narrow, with a pointed snout that is almost fox-like with its orange-and-cream coloring. A pair of thickly-furred ears are perched atop his head, and were the free wolves capable of genetic modification, one might think his genes had been spliced with one of the vulpine family. But, no, his blood is entirely of his own kind's.

His body is likewise streamlined to match his head. His legs are long and almost dainty in their slenderness, ending in four tiny paws with webbing between the individual toes. His tail is likewise long and thin, not particularly rat-like, but with fur clumped thick and tight together and not bushy at all. His pelt is a patchwork of colors, made up primarily of a rust-like red-orange, his belly splashed a creamy-white that spills down his throat, onto his chest and continues down the length of his underside. His legs are likewise white, whereas his tail continues the strange mottling of orange and black and the shades that fall between. His eyes are an icy blue, so pure one almost expects them to crack and chip at any moment.

history:
To spin the tale of a cur taken form his family as a child and raised as a soldier is neither original nor interesting. Instead, shall we speak of his first few years as a cur on the battlefield, still a child for all intents and purposes and learning of the world's cruelty in the worst way possibly?

Seven was first assigned to a pack whose name has been marked from the records. His early life was relatively peaceful, as the region his pack was assigned to saw little actual confrontation with the wolfhounds. Instead, theirs was a cold war, a psychological battle raged over a strip of grasslands that flourished with small game. The curs kept to their forest home, and the wolfhounds stalked the marshland that stretched beyond the grassy plains. It was a place close to the sea, forever smelling of brine and never of blood.

It was a sin-eater who broke the standoff. She was a foolish female, drunk on her power the way so many can become. She had been a sin-eater for too long and had been assigned to many packs. Maybe that was why she so openly flaunted her rule-breaking. She chose Seven as her paramour, a youngster unable to resist her advances, and the pair canoodled. And were subsequently captured by a wolfhound pack, just waiting for a bargaining chip.

You, of course, know how the Savages are. There was to be no bargaining, and the two wolves were kept in captivity. The wolfhounds did nothing to them and gave nothing to them. There was a time-limit imposed on the Savages by way of starvation. The response: let them die. Both had been wounded in the fight with the wolfhounds and nearing their limits, the wolfhounds simply chose to abandon them.

The sin-eater died first. She had been the one more grievously injured, for she had fought for freedom. Seven had not fought, because he still believed the free wolves cared for him, that he was not just another number to them. But he was, and when she died, something in him flicked on. You of course have heard tales of it. That desperation to survive that is hardcoded into the brain? It forces us to partake in acts that we cannot normally digest or even agree with.

But Seven accepted it. And so he ate her. It was a wretched, disgusting affair. The first bites of meat he wasted, thrown back up by a stomach with more sense than the brain. But he continued to eat, his jaws gaping wide as he tossed back the damned flesh, his eyes squeezed tight. And he discovered something: a wolf tastes much the same as a rabbit. There are key differences, of course. While a rabbit is lean, a wolf is leaner, tough and muscular with a very trim slab of fat. And a wolf's body is different from a rabbit's, stretched out and long, no quite close enough to a deer. But Seven managed. And by the end of the second day of feasting from her carcass, he came to find he enjoyed the taste. An acquired palette.

But that is enough for now. Perhaps we shall speak of his other troubles another time. Suffice to say, he is recently transferred to the Bluestone Pack and is eager to once more prove himself an efficient hunter/killer.

bloodied marks: 10
STATS:
combat: 6
luck: 8
healing: N/A
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE: Old roleplay involving Seven. This iteration most likely won't act the same.

The first bite was the most succulent. The tearing of skin, large chunks of flesh being torn out with the fur as he threw his head back to gulp down what had once been her side—that swell of fat that hung over the ribs, thin in the depths of winter but delicious nonetheless. The blood had slowed to a crawling leak in the aftermath of her death, but it still stained the churned-up snow as he hungrily tossed aside fur-covered skin in an effort to reach the true prizes that lay within her cooling body. Steam rose from his gaping maw in the cold air as he panted over her, his eyes focused on that which was most precious: her heart.

Lifeblood.

His mouth was gentle as he reached for her heart. His paw was not; he scraped at her body until the corpse twisted and rolled unnaturally, exposing her innards more clearly to his watering mouth. With blood-stained teeth, he carefully tore her heart free and held it, gazing down at her face for one long moment.

She was beautiful. She’d been too panicked to fight back, had only struggled uselessly until he’d torn her throat out and sprayed scarlet blood across the ground. Her face was frozen in that pitiful expression now. So soft and sweet, a true damsel in distress. With a quick flexing of his jaws he swallowed down her heart and leaned down to gentle nuzzle her muzzle. She had been so lovely. She was his forever now.

Gulls circled annoyingly over his head as he began to tear into her stomach once more. Their last beachside walk had been the perfect end to their relationship together. However, now he had to deal with these damned scavengers that cawed loudly above him, screaming for the world to hear. A quick jerk of his muzzle sent a small icicle soaring through the sky, piercing one of the birds right in their breast. It fell with a last, choked cry, and Seven made a soft rumble of satisfaction.

He turned away from her for a brief moment to pad toward the half-dead creature, struggling uselessly for its last few moments of life. It flapped uselessly but before Seven could finish it off, he stiffened. Had he just heard…?

His head tilted, and his nostrils flared, tasting for a scent. The cry came again and a slow smile crept upon his face. With a last, careless look at the bird, he trotted away from it, leaving it to die slowly and painfully. He kept trotting, past the carcass of the wolf he had killed, whose innards now lay heavily in his belly.

Another sweet lovely creature needed his help. She was a true damsel in a way his last meal had never been. Their first meeting would be him rescuing her! How gallant. She’d be so impressed. The rest of his meal was forgotten as he loped down the beachside, already daydreaming of their meeting.



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Edited on 19/07/15 by Lirriel (#23407)

Sybil (#14065)

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Posted on
2015-07-18 13:20:16
Name: Banshee
Age: Two years
Faction: curs
Rank: Medic
Personality:
Confident ~ Banshee holds extreme confidence in herself no matter how others see her. She knows she is beautiful and knows that if she really tried she could get someone to love her, though it is her lack of voice that makes her think a man could never see her in that way.
Brilliant ~ Smarter than many give her credit for Banshee can generally work her way through obstacles and any roadblock thrown her way. She is very protective of herself and will work her way out of things if she sees them as threatening and a jeopardy to her life or someone else she cares about. She can solve puzzles with ease however it is difficult for her to communicate them.
Mysterious ~ Sneaky as can be, one moment you'll see her then the next you wont. She is like a ghost and will appear when she wants to, however if she does not want to good luck finding her. Banshee is only ever found when she wants to be. If you do manage to come across her she will almost always run away.
Lonely ~ She always craved the companionship of another and yet pulls away each time. What Banshee needs is someone who will accept her for her flaws and won’t shove her down as she fears each time.
Description: A snow white wolf her body is covered with thick and fluffy fur. Her eyes a lovely yet eye-catching blue in color. She stands generally tall though she can be seen as scrawny to many.
History: Not much is known of Banshee’s history, not even to herself. She worked tirelessly having lost her parents quickly in the fighting. She keeps to herself mostly and in the few battles she has found herself in she has made it out without much of a mark on her body. Choosing to dabble in the medical field she sees many issues on a daily basis and works hard when needed even when she is on the field herself. These days it can be difficult to even catch her when she isn’t busily at work.
Bloodied Marks: xxx
STATS:
Combat: I WILL TELL YOU
Luck: I WILL TELL YOU
Healing: I WILL TELL YOU
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE:
Her bright eyes stared off the rock she had perched herself on. The light gray of the stone nearly blending with the bright white fur settled on the she-cats body. The only thing that made her stood out was those absolutely stunning, two tone eyes. She had settled herself in this territory for the past few days, the cats here making her quite curious with how they moved. As far as Banshee knew they hadn't caught on, though she wasn't exactly hiding herself.

She had found herself following one tom in particular, his personality catching her eye like a mouse to a hawk. The craving Banshee had for attention was growing day by day watching as these others acted so much like a family, while her own family had outcasted her simply because she had no voice. She had been named because of the hatred her mother felt for her and well, how in the world would she tell anyone what her name was anyways! What did it matter, maybe she could mouth it but what wild cat would know what a Banshee was?

With a very pathetic little hiss Banshee smacked a small stone off of the cliff, frustration making her tail flick and her whiskers twitch. Admittedly she honestly didnt look very threatening, much like that small girl that simply looks cute when she is mad. Yet she never needed to look threatening, nobody ever got close enough to her for them to even feel the heat off her body, she never let them.



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Edited on 18/07/15 by Nephthys (#14065)

Kingdom of Avanti (#22650)

Ill-Natured
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Posted on
2015-07-18 13:23:02
WORK IN PROGRESS [2 minutes till shut down]



Moon7_zpsenpxqhfg.png
.NEW MOON.SIN EATER.NEARING 4 CYCLES.DAME.UNATTACHED. TIMES BLOODIED.

Name:
New Moon



Age: 3 years 11 months



Faction: Bluestone



Rank:
Sin-Eater



Personality:
She is a quiet, brutal female, with a mean temper and devious charm. Having
been deprived of the true feeling of 'love' she doubts it in many different
aspects. A fea whom believes highly in respect, if you disrespect her then you
are nothing more than a speck of dirt that has long been in the way and it is...very likely that she will use you for an example. As...this is permitted for her 'ranking.' New Moon has lived within many
areas over the years but does not mind relocating, the travel annoying and hard on a canvas but...easy.Beautiful, Riveting. The female draws you to like a moth to a flame, only after
it happens do you know you're going to be burned. The most unique visionaries
of fluorescent meet you, the female hates them but most are entranced when
sparing a look, her too-soft vocals doing the rest. The girl is a silver
tongue, easily able to talk others into things you must think twice before
allowing yourself to follow her commands, unless given by the superiors...well,
then you have no choice. 


 If she disagrees with you she will speak her mind and make sure you know,
this has caused many trials against her, bringing many 'enemies' to her
doorstep but even they seem to stumble and falter to find footing when this fea
is present. A girl that knows how to get what she wants, needs, and doesn't mind
getting dirty. Never having been one to back down she accepts all challenges
and loves a good fight... her past having paved a path to where she's found
today. She is a fea that holds a mysterious and alluring front effortlessly. No
one can truly copy or keep up because only she knows how her minds works, only
she knows the true depths of her abilities. Always adjusting her plans and
doing things one step at a time. a rapid thinker she does not have a problem
telling others what they're doing wrong. New Moon is unafraid of anyone or
anything. She believes to die would only be a blessing so she does not spend
her life walking on pens and needles, knowing she is plenty capable of holding
her own so instead she takes what she wants and does what she needs to get
by... having taken the role of a Sin-Eater within the Bluestone and takes her
ranking very seriously, sure to ensure that noone grows soft...what needs to be
done 
is done. No matter the ranking.



Description:
She is a petite female, smaller than many vixen size is something
which should not be allowed to fool you. A well-muscled build can be seen
beneath a canvas of thick pure alabaster, her coating sleek and always a solid
hue not often even appearing dirtied. She has a scar along her nape which is
virtually unknown, covered by fur and layers of tissue. Her eyes are very
unique a shade of pink the outer edges a deep, darker hue and as it goes in it
gets lighter. Some seem shocked by the vixen’s appearance, others not entirely
so much. Everything about the girl is quite shocking. Truly a beautiful vixen
even her movements are in elegant strides. She has a voice of silk which many are
lost within, but behind the beauty and the predator's lure the girl is truly
unknown. Simply drawing you in until it is much too late, Like a moth to a
flame.



History:
New Moon, like others within the pack life, was taken from her original ‘home’
before clear memories were even made…perhaps even before she had the strength
to stand straight infact. New Moon’s mother, Rain, was of old lines and the
vixen was murdered shortly after the girl’s birth, her brothers as well. Her
father, was traced back to a long line of canid and believed himself superior…a
god, even. The brute thought the birth of pups would hit his own levels of
achievement and so sought to kill the mother, as well as pups. Not completely
succeeding New Moon was the product of negligence. Unlike others though...the girl did not simply leave for training. She did not endure 6 months in captivity before being thust into a single pack to live out her days... No instead the vixen went through training...extensive training to ensure her capability of the rank of a Sin-eater. Now, years later, the girl has watched over three packs, one her current being the Bluestone...two others did not end quite so beautifully but the girl doesn't think often on the fact.



Bloodied Marks: 15


STATS: 



combat: 8



luck: 9



healing: N/A


Roleplay Example: It'd been the perfect escape. Drugs, alcohol. The world slowly brightening, her walls trembling as they fell. The sound of the music still erupted through Scarlet's cranium the entrancing, almost traumatizing, beat bringing her fingers together lightly tapping to the thin skin of her body. The man had been so kind his dark blue eyes appearing an almost ebony hue within the dim lighting of Sid's Bar. Andrew. Andy, he'd said to call him Andy. By the end of the evening Scarlet's day was a blur. Her fight with her mother, the anger she'd felt through everyone in that house... They just didn't understand, noone ever would. How it feels to be empty, alone and yet surrounded by people. A drunken Scarlet truly believed this boy might though, despite better instincts she'd believed. Having had one too many, or maybe ten more than that the entrancing tune devoured the female her lips pressed to the latest drink which Andrew himself had brought her. Looking at the boy he didn't seem so much...different. Dark hair, piercing eyes. His smile on any other night could hold ill intentions and yet no one listens to their gut. 


Dancing. Dancing seemed like perfection at the time and with a cigarette between her lips the silver eyed female stood. At first the airy feeling of her cranium was simply blamed on the drinks as fingers twined around the man's large calissed fingers. "Come" the single word a purr from her lips as she lead him to the middle of the room. They'd danced, laughed. Almost forgetting her bag which sat just across the room filled with her clothing, jewelry, everything she thought she would need for a new life. A new start which would hold no memory of her very own blood, her mother. Today had been the day for changes and the first being alcohol. To drink like she'd never done before. At the time it'd been a thankful fact that the man was staying in a hotel nearby. Said he could even buy her a room. A room which she could sleep off the alcohol and groggy thoughts. If only they'd made it. The night before is now a blur remembering only mere steps outside of the bar in Jupiter,Florida.


The entrancing beat caused the gentle beat of the female's heart to thicken, erupting through her canvas seeming to devour her, shake her from the very core. The same beat which was blurred out only by light laughter. Laughter and the occasional clearing of someone's throat. Fingers twitched as the gentle caress of something chilled and thin ran along her lips, tickling her a smile was brought to lips. A dream, only a dream. Soon sleep was no longer the option as large hands were felt on the female's mid torso and her light visionaries shifted open. The fear which coursed through frightening, the pain in her head devouring rational thoughts as voids were met by those of a dark sapphire. Andrew, the boy from last night's events his hands were on her torso as if to wake her and as soon as metallic visionaries had opened he brought them away. "Hello" vocals were husky as the female blinked slowly her cranium groggy and unsure as she attempted to lean up finding herself in what would appear to be a tent the surrounding area covered in a pale pink, the bed which she was on not of her own choosing. "What is this" words were slow, unsure. Russian accent seeping through like poison as her fingers tightened around the sheets the once tapping motion ending. Attempting to piece together last night's events she slowly looked down to her canvas which was covered by a sheet but the thread of the fabric rubbed her skin and beneath she knew oh-too well she bore no clothing. 


A low laugh ran through Andrew's lips before slowly nodding. "I told you I am an entertainer" arms lifted as if this were the only clarification she needed the muscles of his upper canvas gleaming in what light was provided in the area, sweat trickling off of his skin as if he'd just been working excessively hard. Not so far away the quiet sound of music drawled through the air, an entrancing repetitive beat which she recognized from just north of her home, the freak show...or. Circus. Then a woman walked in her dark brown hair brought to a bun ontop of her head her hand carrying an assortment of food, most of which appeared to be bread. Yet the most prominent feature to the woman was not her hair nor her grey eyes but the light brown array of hair which paraded from her jaw. A beard. Blinking slowly reality was setting a brutal path through the female as she shifted further beneath the probably flea-bitten sheets. 



 





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Edited on 22/07/15 by Kingdom of Avanti (EC) (#22650)

lirriel .˚₊ (#23407)

Impeccable
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Posted on
2015-07-18 13:29:18
Banshee: Accepted
Combat: 12 (LMAO)
Luck: 8
Healing: 2 (the worst medic lmao)


New Moon: Accepted
Combat: 8
Luck: 9
Healing: N/A
And since you wanted me to roll for Bloodied Marks: 16!



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Arbiter (#3487)

Usual
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Posted on
2015-07-18 13:33:04

Could I reserve a Sin-Eater? c:

EDIT :: I updated my form with my lad.




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Edited on 18/07/15 by Reebuh {TMFEoL} (#3487)

lirriel .˚₊ (#23407)

Impeccable
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Posted on
2015-07-18 13:35:46
Yes you can! :D

Both sin-eaters and the medic (god help the Bluestone pack) have been taken! The alpha and beta positions are still available in the Bluestone Pack. This roleplay is free for anyone to join, of course, regardless of whether you are affiliated with the Savages family or not. :3



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Edited on 18/07/15 by Lirriel (#23407)

Arbiter (#3487)

Usual
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Posted on
2015-07-18 14:54:19

Name + Gender + Age: Apollo ♂ (4 years)
Affiliation & Rank: Curs – Sin-Eater of Bluestone pack

Personality: Apollo is known to be a complete hard-ass; he's rude, blunt, to the point, and rather cunning. He's got a strong sense of justice, with a string of stubborn pride that makes him rather suited to his current position. Knowingly aggressive and intimidating, Apollo rather uses this to his advantage to create an air of a commander. He has a cold exterior and a silent demeanor that unnerves anyone he comes in contact with- and when he does speak, it’s not always kind. He’s a bit stand-offish, though he’s shown himself to be rather intelligent and confident in his abilities when mixed in with others. Apollo can be brutal and merciless, which is all part of his job as well.

60b30306756c97f5b8d0f105cd3a9c1a.jpg



Appearance: With an appearance of the above picture (which I do not own), Apollo is built long and sleek, and his frame boasts strong muscles. He is tall, standing just above other wolves, and he’s considered somewhat handsome by some others- he himself doesn’t care too much. He has a strong fighting sense, and his body type helps him enormously, the way he easily puts on muscle definitely helping his strength.

History: He had a typical upbringing- taken from his first home and thrust into training as soon as he was weaned, and that was all he knew for a long time. Unknown to all but his mother Cadence and his father Pem, he had two younger siblings that died shortly after birth; both were female, and were named Riley and Indigo. His mother was with him duing his early years, though she was only his feeder and the strict teacher that taught him how to move with silent grace- his father, a higher-ranking wolf at the time, taught him the ruthless fighting style he has, and once his parents were killed, Apollo continued his training on his own, and as he grew, it was more apparent than ever that he would be a powerful wolf. He soon became a Sin-Eater due to his talents and expertise in fighting.

Bloodied Marks: 16
Stats: Combat: 10 Luck: 9


✎ RP SAMPLE:

Nicolai's eyes blinked open, startled- this wasn't abnormal for him, to wake up in a cold sweat, with no recollection of what he had dreamed of last night. He shut his eyes and groaned, and then sat up and rubbed his hands over his face and then taking them through his hair, the white-blond locked mussed and all over the place even after his finger-brushin. He swung his feet over the edge of his bed, taking a look at the room around him, allowing his heart rate to slow down just a bit more.

The clean, sterile walls were colored a pretty teal blue color to match the walls of his room at home, the hospital's disgusting attempts to mimic his home environment. They tried, but failed, miserably. He shook his head, now intent on finding clothes other than the hospital-issued boxers he had on. Now rummaging through his dresser, pulling on the first thing he could find pants-wise, and foregoing a shirt until he got into the bathroom to brush his teeth and tame his hair the best he could. Finally pulling on a long sleeved blue cotton shirt, he looked himself up and down in the mirror he had, and sighed. I officially look like a wreck, he thought sourly as he took his appearance in. His eyes were dull, and he looked thinner than normal- of course, not having much of an apetite contributed to it- and he just looked, over all, tired.

He waved his own thoughts off, wandering around his room for awhile, waiting. He was waiting to see which volunteer he’d get stuck with today, which volunteer’s voice he’d have to listen to, droning question after question in his ear. It annoyed the living shit out of him that they didn’t just leave him alone for awhile, or just try to carry on a normal conversation with him, that wasn’t them trying to get him to talk. It wasn’t that he couldn’t, that he was unable to do so, it was that he lacked the energy and the willingness to do so. He didn’t want to answer the questions they prodded him with, and only wished to sit down and have something to listen to that wasn’t the buzzing of the air conditioning unit. Personally, he didn’t mind the company of the volunteers- or the “Recovery Partners” as the doctors called them- so long as they weren’t being obnoxious. Whoever’s stuck with me oughta be coming in soon. He judged this by the clock, which was ticking it’s way towards 9:15AM. His eyes were drawn to the window, and he went to sit in the nook that framed it, staring at the world outside. It was almost funny, because he was in here, where time seemed to be almost frozen, while the world around him moved at such a fast pace.
(This is from a 1x1 w/ Pembroke. You can safely assume I will keep my posts at least two paragraphs long, though they will look smaller than they are because of my post style. (I use subs. It looks nicer.)





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Edited on 19/07/15 by Reebuh {TMFEoL} (#3487)

wagner ✦
(heritageless nadir) (#36223)

Notable Lion
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Posted on
2015-07-18 14:55:17
This. This looks good.

Intimidating, but good.

Just my kind of roleplay.



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lirriel .˚₊ (#23407)

Impeccable
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Posted on
2015-07-18 15:34:33
Apollo: Accepted
Combat: 10
Luck: 9
Healing: N/A


With the exception of poor Banshee's abysmal Healing stat, we're actually doing quite well so far. :'D

@Hawkfeather, thank you! I figured it would definitely be very intimidating to some people, but I hoped some would be able to handle it. :'D



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Sybil (#14065)

Scourge of Lions
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Posted on
2015-07-18 15:36:03
CAN WE PLEASE REROLL BANSHEE



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lirriel .˚₊ (#23407)

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Posted on
2015-07-18 15:46:24
NO >:U SHE'S JUST GONNA KILL EVERYONE AND LIVE THANKS TO HER PERFECT COMBAT ROLL. WORST BEST MEDIC



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