Out of Character

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Alberta, Canada --
-- quietgrrrlriot
Mon Jan 16, 2017 2:58 pm pinkdiscotheque
Fri May 31, 2019 11:34 am
I'm new and awkward, but totally open and flexible when it comes to my character. Open to plots, brainstorms, and general shenanigans. Feel free to shoot me a message, always happy to chat. Maybe send me a PM first before adding me on skype or aim. You might know me as Ray.

In Character

Female 02 Nov 2015
Wolf Ortus

Average sized wolf with a delicate build, deep chest, and tightly muscled limbs. She is clearly built for speed rather than strength. Despite her stature, she appears almost large in size, thanks to the gratuitous amount of thick, fluffy fur she has. As a winter wolf, her coat is ivory in hue, a delicate peach tone draping over the top of her head, down her neck, along her back, and over her tail. It is more saturated towards the centre, a wide line of rust running down her spine. A thick collar of silver hangs over her shoulders, coming to a point near the middle of her breast. The same colour marks a ring near the tip of her tail, and a half-mask covering her face. Her eyes are a pale lilac, occasionally picking up shimmering silver hues.

There is very little distinction between her Lupus and Secui forms. For the latter, her size increase is marginal, but the amount of fluff she has seems to multiply tenfold, especially along her neck and the top of her head. Although this is not her preferred form, it is exceptionally useful during hunts.

Standing erect, she gains an insignificant amount of height, standing at 5'9" total, appearing athletic, yet lithe beneath her heavy coat. Her mane grows out to a wild tangle of strawberry blonde hair, typically in a pinned up-do enhanced by a few thin braids, often crowned with a wreath of leaves and small flowers. For clothing, she prefers none at all, or a thin, flowing shift, or toga-like article of clothing. She comes, undoubtedly, from an old, isolated line; this is apparent in her presentation, but even more so in her behaviour. Her body language is expressive and easy to read, occasionally betraying her feelings.
She emanates genuine enthusiasm, her words to be taken at face value. Honest and eager, she believes not in goodness or evil, but in the way of the wolf. All wolves are driven, striving to fulfill that purpose; she just has to find out what hers is.

She is filled with a childlike wonder, and an ardor for learning and bettering herself. Her thirst sees her off on expeditions, brazen and at times foolhardy, perhaps naive. She is on a journey of discovering herself and the world around her.

Caring deeply for others has always come naturally to her. She takes pride in her relationships, and is always willing to see the good in others. The perception of betrayal and failure cut her deeply, and she tries desperately to remain faithful.

The pursuit of pleasure is of the utmost importance. To please others gives pleasure, creating an endless feedback loop. She seeks to gratify others without losing too much of herself, and in turn, shies from what makes her feel dissatisfaction. She is as much of a foil to a protagonist, as she is a deuteragonist or companion, but rarely takes to the limelight herself.

Although she has her doubts, she believes that the wolf species is superior to all other canines, and those considered to be winter wolves are superior to all. At times she may find herself lost in the story that she is a direct descendant of the gods, or that her father was a demi-god. Those moments are often interrupted by bouts of guilt, and then overt displays of humility.

Generally a good sport, she is prone to moments of mischievousness, and prefers to be playful rather than serious. There is, of course, a time and a place for everything, but she will do whatever she can to put a smile on another canine's face.

Because she strives to please others, she becomes whatever they might need. She is therefore, easily groomed, and easy to influence. This does not indicate a lack of character, but rather a painful shortcoming, where she lacks the confidence to be her own individual. It is a problem easily remedied under the right circumstances, but for now, she remains putty in the paw of others.
Muses was raised in a sheltered colony in the far north of the eastern side of the Rocky Mountains. They called themselves winter wolves, the descendants of the original gods. Led by the iron fisted patriarch, Zeus, the family flourished. The cult practiced polygamy, and the clan head had an assortment of wives at his beck and call. Hera, his second in command, and twin sister, did not object - for this was the way of the winter wolves - but she was a jealous woman, quick to anger, and difficult to love.

His third wife was named Mnemosyne, a fair creature from the tundra. She quickly became one of his favourites, and bore him many pups, although none were male. There were twelve daughters in total, collectively referred to as the Muses. The middle child of her last litter was named Mneme, and although she bore a strong resemblance to her dam, had very little sway within the family, for the hierarchy was based upon seniority, and had little to do with actual skill or hard earned influence.

As it was, Mneme was born the runt, presumed blind for the first few months, although she insisted that she could see, and her pale eyes were as clear as any other. It was eventually discovered that the child was not afflicted, but blessed. She could perceive sound through another sense, visualizing voices as colours, shimmering and dancing like auras in the corners of her eyes. In reality, this ability was a far cry from supernatural, for short of being a clever and perceptive youth, the unique ability offered her no immediate advantage over others.

Her father, however, saw an opportunity to exploit her synesthesia. He proclaimed her a priestess, an oracle, the truth-speaker of her family. She would be the mouthpiece, delivering the judgement of the gods. Of course, this was a farce. The child was simply groomed to be obedient, prompted to voice certain opinions. Knowing no better, she went along with it with a heavy heart.

What she truly desired was to run, to hunt with her sisters, and explore the world beyond the mountain they called home. Occasionally, she was granted such privileges, mostly to keep her placated. Among the family was a tradition of sending youths nearing maturity out to survive on the mountain for a week. This was done to weed out the unfit, and as a means of population control. Mneme was allowed to participate with her littermates, on the condition that she would return to her role as a priestess afterwards.

She agreed with some reluctance, and set out to complete the task. It had been a particularly volatile winter, but that did not deter the sisters from venturing out further than they had dared to before. One evening, they came across a group of scouts. The sisters overheard a war plot against their family. From what Mneme understood, there was a group of those exiled from the main branch of the family. They spoke of rescuing family members, of liberating those who could not escape, and of slaying the tyrant Zeus.

The sisters were noticed as they attempted to slip away so they could relay this informatiom to their family. A chase ensued, and the chaos caused a small but devastating avalanche, burying two from the scouting group, and Mneme's two sisters. Despite her best efforts, she could recover no bodies, and assumed the worst. Torn between continuing the search for finding her sisters, or informing her family, Mneme eventually left to return home. However, by the time she arrived, the siege was already underway.

Too much of a coward to help, the young girl fled, traveling tirelessly across the foothills and plains of the east, keeping the company of other wanderers, but rarely lingering for long in one place. She was complacent but willingly mute, too shaken to find her voice, and confused by the events that had transpired.

Finding herself at the edge of the world (or rather, the last remaining stretch of Canadian land before the Atlantic Ocean), she summoned the courage to start fresh, to be able to perform each of the duties that her sisters had done, with diligence enough to do them proud. Mneme had died, the night of the avalanche. Now, she was a single soul, repenting for twelve: Muses.
General skills include feral hunting, trapping, fishing, archery, basic knowledge of edible and healing flora, basic first aid, basic horsemanship, basic bunny raising, basic meteorology, and pretending to be a priestess.

She has sound-to-colour synesthesia.

Indoctrinated to believe in the patriarchy, and that incest is normal.

She is ethereal and magical, sort of like how Sigur Rós sounds.

Will one day have a pony named Nechako, and a bunny named Snowberry...