Out of Character

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Fri Jun 16, 2017 4:43 pm --

In Character

Male 09 Feb 2015
Mexican Wolf Ortus
At first glance Xōchitl is hardly an imposing figure. For one thing, being on the shorter end of the absolute smallest wolf species in the Americas means most of his life has involved craning his neck to look up at others, alongside the occasional hand gesture to convey any meaning that might have been lost on the way up. Standing a full five feet and six inches tall in optime, his frame seems to be designed with economy in mind. His muscles are wiry and compact, with a face that is mostly comprised sharp edges, although he generally prefers to call it streamlined. His resting expression is a sort of mildly amused stare that seems fairly benign, although his light green eyes have a keenness to them that is a little off putting. His stature generally has him mistaken for a coyote, although his proportions are all blatantly, unapologetically wolf.

Despite his scrawny build, Xōchitl was seemingly blessed with the compensating gift of a luxurious coat that is comparable to silk or spun fleece. Admittedly this effect takes the better part of an hour to achieve, but the shine seems to be inherent even when filthy. The aforementioned coat is varied in colors, with blacks and silvers intermingling to create an almost blue effect with lighter spots speckled intermittently across his back. This turns into a rusty mixture of reddish hues that make the most of his pelt, with cream accents on the face and underbelly.

Even in secui form, there is only a moderate amount of musculature gain, concentrated on the upper torso and forelimbs, with a respectable mane forming around his neck. Indeed, from a distance, he would only seem like a larger wolf. In optime, this mane migrates exclusively to the back of the neck and head, forming a darker black length, often kept braided by a tattered multicolored ribbon. The musculature is more defined, wiry, and often covered by clothing.
Xōchitl is constantly driven to be happy, happiness being defined as material comfort and his own feelings of satisfaction. This is the reason he travels, the reason he learned to read, and the reason he insists on fancy dress even in the most impractical situations. He has a deep-seated fear of being illegitimate, and this manifests in his need to be both a perfectionist and well-liked. Externally this manifests as Xōchitl coming across as confident, competent, and calm even when he has absolutely no idea what is going on, and his emotional state is akin to a headless chicken. Still, it keeps other people calm. Xōchitl has a rather large soft spot for what he calls “The Socially Disadvantaged of Society”, taking the time to help said persons when possible.

By nature, Xōchitl is gregarious and enjoys conversation as long as the conversation is going somewhere, although he sees spoken word as something that can be weaponized with minimal difficulty. As a rule, he tries to be polite to everyone in an attempt to minimize the number of individuals hoping to kill him, and is adept at forging alliances. The drawback to a relationship with Xōchitl is that he keeps meticulous track of all favors exchanged, and believes firmly reciprocity. He also isn’t hesitant to use blackmail, or extortion if he dislikes the individual in question. He also avoids giving out personal information to all but his absolute closest friends, and very few people learn his true name. Even fewer can pronounce it. It should be noted that on the rare occasions that Xōchitl makes a true friend, he will latch on for dear life and take great pains to stay with that person, with an almost unhealthy degree of fixation.

Despite the more relaxed appearance that he cultivates, Xōchitl is very much capable of being gravely serious should the situation demand, to the point where he almost seems like another person entirely. With a talent for acting, much of Xōchitl’s conversations are deliberately scripted for a single end goal in mind. Still, his ability to read the mood of a crowd is put to good use regularly. Fond of showing his intellect, but only when really appropriate for the situation. He has applied his knowledge of herbology to considerably less noble ends, and covered the evidence well. He is more dangerous than he seems, and actively conceals the fact.
Born in what was once known as Mexico to a small pack of Nahuatl speaking wolves in an area dominated by other cultural, and language groups, Xōchitl grew up on the very edges of civilization, in a poor setting. His birth pack was mostly luperci, with varying degrees of humanization, living in a partially restored pueblo. His father died prior to his birth, and his grandmother Yayauhqui named him Xōchitl Cāhualli, “Flower that someone left behind” something he never forgave her for. His mother, Matacan, had to supplement the family’s food by poaching from other packs, as well as peddling all sorts trinkets when time could be afforded. Xōchitl soon helped out his mother on these little excursions, while his grandmother taught him a good deal about medicine. She was fond of punctuating these little lessons by snapping at him if he did something wrong.

Xōchitl learned both English and Spanish as he grew up, and the broken Nahuatl that he spoke at home, much to the ire of his grandmother. While his mother insisted that he learn to read for the sake of being able to have access to realms of information (Matacan was semi-literate, which was helpful when it came sales), Yayauhqui insisted he learn the Mexica Nahua glyphs, which is why he can chicken-scratch simple sentences to this day. After his grandmother died, and his mother couldn’t provide for him any more, Xōchitl claims he struck out on his own at 11 months of age. In reality, his mother simply left, unable to support him any longer. Needless to say, this was a bit of a self-esteem killer for the young wolf. Vowing to never poor again, he made his way across the continent, stealing when needed and being an impromptu doctor when worth the effort. Invariably, he ended up tangled in some far less savory affairs, and poisoned a minor lord in Oklahoma due to a grudge. Three others joined the first, although Xōchitl claims they were entirely in self defense on the very rare occasions he admits to them at all.

Literacy was eventually achieved in English and Spanish, and was very useful for translating books and being commissioned to write poems or ballads celebrating his patrons. It was a turbulent time in his life, and instilled the mentality that he could always run from his problems should they become overwhelming. Still he was never satisfied, constantly uprooting himself in search of a greener pasture that didn’t exist, until he made his way to the maritime provinces for the sake of something new, and also because he wasn’t particularly loved in central Canada due to a small misunderstanding involving a priceless hereditary ring. In hindsight, he felt it may have been a very stupid decision. Still has the ring, though.
Yayauhqui- An ornery, ancient beast with no eyes and only one ear. Xōchitl's Grandmother

Matacan- Xōchitl's mother
Xōchitl is fairly proficient in herbal lore and anatomy, albeit not by any means a master.

Xōchitl speaks Spanish, English, and some broken Nahuatl. His can read both English and Spanish, but has a much better grasp of written Spanish grammar than English, as his English was mostly self-taught.

He has basic self-defense skills