Torn Bane

Out of Character

User avatar
Luperci
Aurrie --
28 --
Utah, USA --
Customer Service Represenative, Chat Department; Freelance Artist --
Sun Jul 19, 2015 9:41 pm --
7
Sun Oct 18, 2015 9:21 am
Hello, my name is Aurrie! I'm just about to turn 26, I've grown up in lower Alabama, I'm an aquascaping enthusiast, and I love my tarantulas. :) I break up most of my time between work, sleep, writing, art, and video games, but I have been pretty busy lately! I would love very much to delve back into the realms of text based roleplay.

In Character

Female 09 Nov 2013
Hybrid Ortus
Torn Bane is very much a mutt, though her strongest traits come from the Tibetan Mastiff and the grey wolf. She is thickly built, stocky, and her fur is quite dense, particularly along her nape. Her tail is quite long and often curls upwards slightly and her right ear is erect, while her left flops. Her fur is predominately a rich chocolate color, which fades into a reddish hue, before ultimately rolling into the white fur that runs along her underside. White also marks her muzzle, though it thins and fades to grey as it comes to the bridge of her nose. A white streak runs from her dark nose up the right side of her muzzle. Her eyes are a piercing blue, which is amplified by her dark facial features.

She is a very scarred creature, but she wears her scars with pride as a testament to her strength, durability, and fierceness in battle, albeit several of her long since healed wounds came to her when she was very young in life. Her ears are tattered and a scar runs down the side of her muzzle, but most of her scars are hidden by her dense, dark fur. She takes fierce pride in the fact that none of her scars are along her haunches, as she refuses to do anything but take her attackers and enemies head on.

She spent the first ten months of her life stuck in her Lupus form due to the overbearing pack in which she was born, but currently shifts between her even larger Secui and Optime forms. When she does choose to spend a large amount of time in her Optime form, she will take the time to wear the bones and fangs of her enemies and her prey alike, weaving necklaces and tying her prized trinkets into her fur. Her prized possession is the equally large, bleached skull of her brother that she wears atop her head. She has a cloak of red fabric, but the edges are frayed and ripped in many places, and an old leather satchel in which she carries her valuables. When not in her Optime form, she stores all of her items in her bag and will carry it in her teeth, causing the satchel strap to be quite worn and pocked with teeth marks.
One can catch more flies with honey than vinegar. This is very true where Torn Bane is concerned. Over all she comes off as a very loving and doting caretaker to those who are unfortunate enough to come under her tending, but her soothing, soft tones are very much a means to an end. Beneath her rough exterior is an equally abrasive creature who merely picked up at a tender, young age that masquerading as a mother within the pack made it much easier for her to weed out the weak and the useless.

She is a hardened soul and a firm believer that one rotten apple spoils the entire bunch and it is this very belief that has earned her a place as an outcast from the packs she spent her earlier years trying to run with.

While she is a highly intelligent creature, even her mother pinned her as not quite right in the head when she was but a pup. Had she played her cards right in her youth she may have wound up a pack shaman or healer, but this was not to be the case in her birth pack. The earth speaks to her and the stones whisper secrets, be it about on-goings within the pack, where the prey runs thickest, or things that are yet to come. While she very much believes that the earth beneath her paws tells her these things, it really doesn't and her information comes from her ability to read the expressions of those around her, her attention to detail, and her dire need for affirmation and want to please.

Truth be told, Torn Bane desperately needs to be needed and will often bend over backwards to satisfy those who have earned her respect and adoration. In this manner she often ends up working herself to the bone and taking on more responsibility and tasks than she would initially believe she could manage. While "no" is very much in her vocabulary for those who she does not look up to, it virtually does not exist where her superiors are concerned. She is also a being who craves structure and follows the laws set forth with an almost religious fervor. Without a preset regimen or predetermined expectations, she finds herself wandering with an aimless listlessness and this is most definitely a hindrance in her happiness when living as a loner. It is this draw to authority figures that keeps her seeking a pack to join.
It is said that Torn Bane came from the west, drawn eastward by tossing and reading the stones, which promised prosperity and the family she craved. This is very near the truth, as her origins came about within the throngs of a strictly Luperci-free pack in western Canada.

If one were to ask the leaders and elders within the pack, her birth was very much an accident and the pup was a bane to them, where her name originated. Torn was attached to her as she wandered the woodlands on her journey east, brought about by her tattered ears and scarred, hulking frame. Torn Bane was born to the alpha pair's youngest, rebellious daughter who made the mistake of laying with a handsome young male from a neighboring pack. The two packs often clashed over territory and the pair met in secrecy for months. They promised each other the moon and back, but this was never to be. When the young male was discovered within pack territory, he was roughed up and chased away. By this time, Torn Bane's mother was already heavy with pups and eventually bore both a son and a daughter. As soon as both pups were old enough to begin weaning, the male was left on the fringes of the rival pack's territory and the female was chosen to remain within the pack at her mother's pleading.

Her birth-pack did not bother to hide their displeasure at her existence and many were quick to rub this in. She was frequently looked down upon, if she was looked upon at all, and was passed over for pack organized hunts and celebrations. While the superiors within her pack virtually ignored her, they were not outright cruel. Her agemates were, though, as children are often cruel to those who do not fit in. Between the young Luperci's burning desire to win the respect of the pack leaders and the taunts and bullying of her agemates, a resentment began to fester in her belly. Her anger began to flash and her temper began to shorten and it was this that led to the death of one of the young pups left within her care during a hunt, which subsequently led to her rather violent expulsion from the pack.

Battered, broken, furious, and lonely, the young wolf wandered on her own and learned to both hunt and thrive. As she was forbidden to shift while running with her birth pack, she took this time to teach herself the art. While it took her some time to get the hang of it, she took any opportunity to practice. She hopped from pack to pack, studying as a healer and shaman as she went and wowing the packs with her ability to "read stones." She was ousted from her prior pack when it was realized that she was doing more harm than good as a healer, namely when she poisoned an elderly Luperci who she decided wasn't worth treating.
Her sole friend is an inky feathered raven that had taken to following her for an easy meal while she wandered alone. The bird is intelligent enough and the pair can communicate to some extent. While she does not have "friends," this bird is the closest she's found and she has taken to calling him Feather. Generally they work together as a team in search of food an the bird very much believes his mistress has the gift of foresight, hence his loyalty to her.