05-09-2011, 12:11 AM
Character Name: Chardonnay Chartreuse
Character Birthdate: (Including year) March 8, 2009
Gender: Male
Species: (If your character is a canine, put their subspecies.) Timber Wolf x Coyote
Is your character a Luperci?: (Not applicable to non-canines.) Yes.
Other 'Souls Characters: (List other active characters here. Not required for new members.) First one
How you found 'Souls?: (Not required for returning or current members.) Through the Top 50/Top 100 wolf rpg listings.
Are you joining a pack?: IF, DdM, PV, CD, AW, CdM, CdA, AT, or Loner: Loner for now. Have yet to decide from the many packs. They all look interesting.
If joining a pack, are you joining IC or OOC?: In Character.
Profile or writing examples: (Link to your character's profile OR embed three roleplaying examples.)
It has been a while since I have properly role-played and I interested in improving my writing skills; the posts below are among my better ones. Any pointers and suggestions are more than welcome =).
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Dirt. Dirt in his mouth, dirt in his eyes, dirt in his fur, dirt everywhere in places he hadn't known even existed. His body ached and smarted, and the base of his tail was a burning bright center of pain, not to mention numerous other body parts. Was anything broken? Deliberately and gingerly, and with great care, he proceeding on bending his digits, arms, legs and neck, assessing the damage he had taken from the onslaught. No, nothing was broken, and that included his tail; just by moving them without screaming from pain that made one want to be unconscious told him that everything was all right, in a physical sense. On the psychological aspect, he wasn’t so sure. Last thing he remembered before he lost his conscious was the badger. More specifically, the badger, who had hauled him up by the tail, using him like he would a mace to brain his fellow crewmates. Or at least that’s what it felt like it. Truth to be told the finer details he found he could not grasp from that episode of terror, so he wasn’t so sure.
One thing he was sure about was that he was determined to never come in contact with a badger again. And that he was alive. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be alive for long if he kept lying with the eventual certainty of a zombie stumbling over him, and plus there was the rest of the crew. If any had survived.
After a few minutes of attempting to stop himself from getting a panic attack and not succeeding, Tazul set off in one direction, hoping against hope that he would emerge from this catastrophe alive, (that is, alive and whole) and occasionally would start at nothing, leaping in the air and staring wildly about himself. So, it was only by sheer luck or misfortune, that he rammed into somebody (he had been running around with his eyes tightly closed muttering “You can’t see me because I can’t see you”). The fox, suffering temporary psychological incapability, in other words from severe stress, could only respond in one way and that was to save himself. Yelping, he leapt sideways, striking out blindly with his rapier but missing whatever it was due to the fact that his fear had affected his judgment. Eyes unseeing, the panicking fox continued to hack and thrust at the air in a frenzy, shouting unintelligibly, with the word "badger" included more than once.
-----------------------------
With the day hardly new, the sun was nearing the zenith of it's journey through the sky, casting warm shining rays of sunlight to the earth that heated the bare basin, all but dispelling the worst of the early spring's chill. The lake gracing the middle of the basin was no longer frozen, possibly prematurely released from it's solid form by the volcano's lava, now grey and dormant, that partly covered the surrounding area, having engulfed all that had lain in it's path whether beast or plant. What little cover there as had been destroyed by the aftermath, leaving the place bare, desolate and unfriendly, but for the lake. Animals, small and large,came here to drink, bathe, or socialise but venturing up here into the open meant exposing one self to potential enemies and predators, especially if one was alone. Indeed there was a solitary figure near the lake shore, a black outsider who showed all the evidence of being in his prime. It was his appearance, almost unknowingly, more than any else that spared him from trouble makers and those with less than good intentions. From afar Ethenniel looked like a wolf to avoid, but this was completely misleading.
At present the black wolf splashing about in the shallows, heedless of the cold water seeping through his guard hairs and invited the biting wind to suck his body heat away, and interested only in chasing the small fish that populated the edges.Letting a yip of excitement escape from him the wolf leaped after one particularly clever little fish, ears pricked forward and eyes locked on his prey. With a large splash, his two front broke through the surface and landed firmly on the bottom, closely followed by snapping jaws that just missed clipping the tail of the slippery fish. Snorting water, he shook himself in amusement. What a day.
-----------------------------
A young dog fox was sitting near the door to the mess whittling a piece of drift wood and was near frustrated. On a vist in the two proper he had met one beast who was selling beautiful carvings. Upon inquiring he discovered that they were out of his price range, but the salesbeast offered with a sly wink that if he were to return after attempting h is own carving and bring him the results by the end of the month he would give him two pieces in exchange, and bade a happy Tazul to take up the offer. So far it was not gonig well, and his knife slipped on the rough wood, leaving great gouges and chips.
"Hellgates!" Not for the first time a splinter and the knife edge grated against his paws, and he threw the offending piece of wood with great vigour away from him. The todd stood, inspecting the injured paw, and assuring himself there was no real harm done, stood and headed toward the front of the ship in response to the captain's whistle.
He wasn't sure what he thought of the new captain, previously the mayor. Surely Old Zil was more than an adequate Captain and Tazul didn't understand he was taken away, even without resisting arrest. What for? Now was not the time to ponder, and one could leave the greater minds to do the figuring.
Straightening his shirt and brushing off random wood shavings, he checked his appearence, noting with satisfaction that today's clothing was from among his better wear. It would not do to seem slovenly upon the first inspection - first impressions mattered.
Character Birthdate: (Including year) March 8, 2009
Gender: Male
Species: (If your character is a canine, put their subspecies.) Timber Wolf x Coyote
Is your character a Luperci?: (Not applicable to non-canines.) Yes.
Other 'Souls Characters: (List other active characters here. Not required for new members.) First one
How you found 'Souls?: (Not required for returning or current members.) Through the Top 50/Top 100 wolf rpg listings.
Are you joining a pack?: IF, DdM, PV, CD, AW, CdM, CdA, AT, or Loner: Loner for now. Have yet to decide from the many packs. They all look interesting.
If joining a pack, are you joining IC or OOC?: In Character.
Profile or writing examples: (Link to your character's profile OR embed three roleplaying examples.)
It has been a while since I have properly role-played and I interested in improving my writing skills; the posts below are among my better ones. Any pointers and suggestions are more than welcome =).
----------------------------------------------------------
Dirt. Dirt in his mouth, dirt in his eyes, dirt in his fur, dirt everywhere in places he hadn't known even existed. His body ached and smarted, and the base of his tail was a burning bright center of pain, not to mention numerous other body parts. Was anything broken? Deliberately and gingerly, and with great care, he proceeding on bending his digits, arms, legs and neck, assessing the damage he had taken from the onslaught. No, nothing was broken, and that included his tail; just by moving them without screaming from pain that made one want to be unconscious told him that everything was all right, in a physical sense. On the psychological aspect, he wasn’t so sure. Last thing he remembered before he lost his conscious was the badger. More specifically, the badger, who had hauled him up by the tail, using him like he would a mace to brain his fellow crewmates. Or at least that’s what it felt like it. Truth to be told the finer details he found he could not grasp from that episode of terror, so he wasn’t so sure.
One thing he was sure about was that he was determined to never come in contact with a badger again. And that he was alive. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be alive for long if he kept lying with the eventual certainty of a zombie stumbling over him, and plus there was the rest of the crew. If any had survived.
After a few minutes of attempting to stop himself from getting a panic attack and not succeeding, Tazul set off in one direction, hoping against hope that he would emerge from this catastrophe alive, (that is, alive and whole) and occasionally would start at nothing, leaping in the air and staring wildly about himself. So, it was only by sheer luck or misfortune, that he rammed into somebody (he had been running around with his eyes tightly closed muttering “You can’t see me because I can’t see you”). The fox, suffering temporary psychological incapability, in other words from severe stress, could only respond in one way and that was to save himself. Yelping, he leapt sideways, striking out blindly with his rapier but missing whatever it was due to the fact that his fear had affected his judgment. Eyes unseeing, the panicking fox continued to hack and thrust at the air in a frenzy, shouting unintelligibly, with the word "badger" included more than once.
-----------------------------
With the day hardly new, the sun was nearing the zenith of it's journey through the sky, casting warm shining rays of sunlight to the earth that heated the bare basin, all but dispelling the worst of the early spring's chill. The lake gracing the middle of the basin was no longer frozen, possibly prematurely released from it's solid form by the volcano's lava, now grey and dormant, that partly covered the surrounding area, having engulfed all that had lain in it's path whether beast or plant. What little cover there as had been destroyed by the aftermath, leaving the place bare, desolate and unfriendly, but for the lake. Animals, small and large,came here to drink, bathe, or socialise but venturing up here into the open meant exposing one self to potential enemies and predators, especially if one was alone. Indeed there was a solitary figure near the lake shore, a black outsider who showed all the evidence of being in his prime. It was his appearance, almost unknowingly, more than any else that spared him from trouble makers and those with less than good intentions. From afar Ethenniel looked like a wolf to avoid, but this was completely misleading.
At present the black wolf splashing about in the shallows, heedless of the cold water seeping through his guard hairs and invited the biting wind to suck his body heat away, and interested only in chasing the small fish that populated the edges.Letting a yip of excitement escape from him the wolf leaped after one particularly clever little fish, ears pricked forward and eyes locked on his prey. With a large splash, his two front broke through the surface and landed firmly on the bottom, closely followed by snapping jaws that just missed clipping the tail of the slippery fish. Snorting water, he shook himself in amusement. What a day.
-----------------------------
A young dog fox was sitting near the door to the mess whittling a piece of drift wood and was near frustrated. On a vist in the two proper he had met one beast who was selling beautiful carvings. Upon inquiring he discovered that they were out of his price range, but the salesbeast offered with a sly wink that if he were to return after attempting h is own carving and bring him the results by the end of the month he would give him two pieces in exchange, and bade a happy Tazul to take up the offer. So far it was not gonig well, and his knife slipped on the rough wood, leaving great gouges and chips.
"Hellgates!" Not for the first time a splinter and the knife edge grated against his paws, and he threw the offending piece of wood with great vigour away from him. The todd stood, inspecting the injured paw, and assuring himself there was no real harm done, stood and headed toward the front of the ship in response to the captain's whistle.
He wasn't sure what he thought of the new captain, previously the mayor. Surely Old Zil was more than an adequate Captain and Tazul didn't understand he was taken away, even without resisting arrest. What for? Now was not the time to ponder, and one could leave the greater minds to do the figuring.
Straightening his shirt and brushing off random wood shavings, he checked his appearence, noting with satisfaction that today's clothing was from among his better wear. It would not do to seem slovenly upon the first inspection - first impressions mattered.