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Post by mércy on Jul 30, 2010 8:23:27 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,361,true] | [atrb=background,http://i28.tinypic.com/1jrjud.jpg] »Name« Mercy »Nickname« N/A »Age« Three years old »Gender« Male »Element« Water.*ice
»Pack« Not Yet Established »Rank« Loner
»Appearance« Mercy is not a particularly large wolf; in fact, he is a few inches beneath the general average for most of his breed. He is petite, more so than he is willing to admit or accept. His physique does not convey any significant physical prowess at his disposal for with size comes brute strength, a trait he cannot amplify or capitalize on with his stature. However, despite being slight in form, Mercy has shown great analytical competence and a boost in speed to compensate the lack of muscle and brawn that most rely on. This seemingly moveable obstacle becomes an immoveable glacier, something he has had to practice at through his years.
His eyes are slanted, a perpetual look of cynicism etched on his visage. Seated in the abysmal inverted black sclera of his eyes are orbs of sterling silver, glinting out at the world. Surrounding only his right eye is a green border that resembles a fine swathe of Kohl paint on the face of a Geisha. Beneath each of his eyes are twin dashes, askew across his cheeks.
The fur lining the interior of his ears is the same verdant color, if not simply darker from the shadow the concave lobe casts. The wolf’s fur has grown naturally into a mane-like bang that spills over the left side of his face in a curtain of white, streaked faintly with green strands to hide his left, impaired eye. A scar is hidden beneath those white and green locks, a vertical groove in the sensitive tissue that has left him permanently impaired on his left side. The eye itself is only slightly damaged and registers hazy outlines but no detail nor color.
His form is bathed in porcelain white, a snowy coat that refracts light wherever it is present. In some ways Mercy looks no better than a juvenile if not younger still. A youthful profile and small build accentuate these rather unlikeable traits he has come to cope with.
»Eyes« Elliptical. Silver
»Fur« Texture similar to goose down.
»Build« Stands at three feet five inches. Small build with regal stature.
»Markings/Scars« Green colored dash(2) beneath right and left eye. Green-colored fur within ears. Green bordered right eye. Green streaks in extended strands; falls over left eye. Scar over left eye; Partially blind.
»Personality« Mercy is very much the embodiment of his element, cold, indifferent to change and forever moving at a pace to his liking and no others. It is perhaps why so many are able to like him, just as the same amount is capable of disliking him. The ratios of those who can tolerate the wolf’s frosty and apathetic nature are not as high as the population who cannot understand the wolf however, leaving Mercy to be a somewhat isolated individual. Those who Mercy can honestly call friends are few and far between and he has learned that sometimes it is best not to have such deep ties to others lest they, or he, be harmed inadvertently.
Mercy is like a glacier, magnificent and standing proud, (in spite of how small he is physically) flowing to his own beat but at the same time he can be easily broken and chipped. He is quiet, thoughtful and discreetly caring to those around him but places no one on a pedestal that they did not earn – no matter their title. To the dislike of many this wolf will speak the truth, unbidden, no matter how bruising it may be. He spares no details when delivering bad news and his emotions, though very real, seem gone from him.
He does not like them to show and wears a choice of a few masks: Annoyance, contemplation, anger and cautious – all of which can be interpreted negatively by onlookers. Not to mention the almost perpetual leer that adorns his face distances others from him. However, in spite of all this mercy is not bad nor is he in a sense good. He does what needs doing when the time is appropriate. He is small but he is quick, both mind and body. Mercy can be counted as a genius, a savant and maybe even a Wiseman when it concerns battle.
Developing strategies and deploying tactics is something he can do and does well. But so much time spent being mature has done nothing to alter the fact that he is still very young with room to grow and should spend that time learning about peace rather than learning of war. At times he is able to let go of his maturity and revert to his age, playing and showing his true self around those he feels relaxed around.
»History« Mercy has lived a life that is neither terrible nor pleasant in any light that shines upon it. It is unfortunate but it is not something that is not prone to taking place with anywhere else in this world. He lived in the snow-laden regions where his family, nestled in the valley of twin Mountains, resided for the majority of his life. The small litter of three was born to the Alpha female and her respective mate in the warming days of summer’s arrival. Their coming had been well timed for it was now that prey moved in larger herds across the thawing plains at the mountain’s outer perimeter and allowed the pack to fully sustain them with fresh meat on a daily basis.
The hardships that spring and winter presented were not their worries as they grew, well-fed and cared for by the packs many eyes, developing into young, boisterous treasures of their group. It wasn’t until they began to emerge from those formative days and into their adolescence when their natural abilities began to surface and manifest themselves.
Nash and Sho, Mercy’s brothers, were first to receive their gifts and seemed to excel immediately. But Mercy’s did not appear within that first year of his birth. It was not an uncommon occurrence, there were plenty of their own who did not have gifts and he was not slighted for not having them. But still, he took it a bit personally. He moped and sulked through winter’s breath and far into the spring, watching his brothers weave their talents and train while he underwent a different education that did not consist of element training.
Stressed, Mercy began to take regular trips up the mountain, enjoying his solitude where he did not feel it necessary to compete with his siblings. Until one day Nash and Sho came to find him. An argument ensued their meeting and quickly escalated into a fight between the hot-headed Nash and Mercy. Somewhere within their feud Mercy came into his powers unknowingly, unable to sense the power actively converting unused cells into fight-operating minions.
A bite to Nash’s shoulder, a non-fatal wound, poured iced water into his brother’s vein and set into immediate hypothermia before freezing him from the inside. The cold, mutated cells of his element had seeped like a venom through his fangs and Nash’s death rested on his shoulders.
Though distraught with the loss of one of their own, Nash could not rightfully be blamed, though many did. His mother especially too Nash’s death very hard and gave Mercy a memento in the form of a scar across his face. He was not banished but Mercy took her act as a silent bid for his departure and left his pack to find a new place to settle.
»Kin(living)« Sho-[Brother], Neig-[Father]
»Kin(deceased)« Mire-[Mother], Nash-[Brother]
»Mate« N/A »Pups«N/A
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Post by Rapier on Jul 31, 2010 6:57:58 GMT -5
Accepted, Welcome
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