MORE Halloween babies?

OOC Name: Talia

Character Name: Macabre/Sinister/Sepulchre Klein
Gender: Male
Alignment: Chaotic Evil
Apperance: (Please pick two designs if picking from those provided, site minimum) Purchased 4 (preferred) or Nyssa 1
At a glance, the male’s size isn’t something to gawk at — he stands at a painfully average 29” with an average build. Despite not being neither so small he’d disappear in a crowd, or so tall he’d tower over his family, he is a solidly built young man whose skeleton is wrapped in thickly roped sinew and flesh. His facial structure is a symmetrical, strong appearance, with a square jaw and angular muzzle, which gives away his clearly masculine figure. His teeth are crisp, intimidating, and shiny, and he shows them off whenever he feels he needs to — which is a fair amount, anyways. His limbs are built like pillars, with a strong foundation of muscle wrapping his smoothly sloping shoulders and the equally impressive haunches of his. Each step, though surprisingly light, brims with potential danger. His paws, though not overly large in contrast to his bodily proportions, even as a pup, foreshadow his ability to be both graceful in agility and terrifying in strength. Match that with his mostly oblivion nails that are always a tad long, and he carries himself in a formidable manner. He doesn’t need to be the size of a dire wolf, like his father, to gain an audience, both for his skill and for his appearance.

The boy’s fur color doesn’t allow one to easily recognize him as Recluse’s own child — nor that of the seemingly absent father, but it does make him stick out like a (not so sore) thumb. Something in the genetics roulette went awry, perhaps, or so the rest of the pack might be inclined to believe. His base color is a rich charcoal, rather than a slate grey, which is perhaps one of the only bare resemblances he can offer to his mother. His entire body is marred with splotches of rich alabaster, bright as the summer’s rays and as if someone wring a rag of white paint onto an otherwise murky, smooth base. He essentially appears to be the monochromatic version of light filtering through trees upon a dark forest floor. The pattern is random, and varied, not organized or predictable in the least, much like his personality. This, coupled with rather thick layers of fur concentrating around his scruff, chest, neck, and shoulders, gives him the vague appearance of a smaller spotted bear. His tail is the same as his head and torso in that it’s thick pelted base tapers down to the tip, and despite the layers of fur, it doesn’t tangle nor get dirty that easily. Not that he actively strives to take care of it — he’s just that damn amazing he doesn’t need to bother with something as trivial as picking leaves off his pelt. His nose is an equally unique, speckled palette of blush and soft rose hues, much like his pawpads. He doesn’t tell anyone, but he despises the pink of his flesh, believing it to be too delicate and fragile of a color for his form. Not in a “ew, pink is for girls” kind of way, but in a “it’d be better if they were dark grey and less pretty” kinda way.

The male’s eyes, however, are a sharp, cold grey — exactly like his father. Though, unlike his papa’s lifeless and merciless gaze, his shines with a zest for life and everything in it. Well, on the surface anyways. Still, they have a genuine sparkle to them, like moonlit pools. There’s something to them that detaches his thoughtful gaze from his rather obnoxious fur colors. Although, if you’re expecting to read his emotions via his icy orbs, think again — he considers himself the master of only revealing as much of himself as needed. That includes whatever residual feelings could be read in his gaze.

Personality: True to his Klein heritage, this boy is as intelligent and clever as they come. He’s rage, wrath, chaos, manipulation and instability wrapped up in a not-so-neat, speckled bow. Loyal to his family, he devotes his true self to them only, as he feels they and the pack are the only people worth his time and energy. Outsiders and complete strsngers are met with his condescending, arrogant disdain with only a surface-level, artificial politeness. Not his fault, really — he just perceives anybody outside of his family and pack to be as worthy of his attention as the ants he crushes beneath his paws. He’s not a momma’s boy, but deep inside, he does care for his mom and his siblings. That’s what you have to do right? As a normal Klein wolf? Well, as normal as he could be, anyways..which he is not. Since he could walk and talk, the boy has had an almost genetically ingrained ability to manipulate his emotions for his own favor. He’ll be a pro at putting on any mask, playing the part like the actor of a solo performance. He’ll act happy, kind, gentle, and pleasant in an attempt to gain favors from others, targeting people he perceives to be particularly emotionally or physicslly weak as he sees them as easy prey. Deep inside, though, he feeds lies and words to them like poisoned honey, in the uoltimate goal of infecting them with his fake kindness so that they trust him. Only then can he show his true self; a malevolent, twisted character who will get what he strives for, that is, whatever he decides to put the most energy in (he simply won’t put wffort into something he feels won’t being him any benefit long-term). He’ll do this for the most devious of plans, and partially why he’d make an excellent spy, even with his striking fur color. He can blend into a crowd, if not become the crowd favorite, when all it is is a carefully laid out plan to dominate, destroy, gaslight, or even kill. Thise unfortunate enough to experience his manipulation are, to him, but mere pawns. He cares little for the life of anyone he isn’t directly attached to — basically anyone outside of the pack. Don’t worry, though, he doesn’t mess around like this with his family..too much.

Skills: Fighting and Intellect
Plans: Will likely develop ICly, but he has no interest in becoming a leader; he’s more than happy to sit on the sidelines as his siblings fight for the title. Though confident and brave, he prefers to use his manipulation and desire to control others in less obvious manners, which doesn’t involve being the leader ofma pack, as ironic as that sounds. Nah, he’s fine just doing his thing and his duties, all the while tricking others and twisting his words wothout needing to give a crap about other packs and allegiances..yuck. Whatever.

RP Sample: The boy found himself itching for action. He’d been sitting on his lonesome for several hours now, and as a child, he wasn’t able to fully contribute to pack duties. Though he could be doing anything else in an attempt to be more productive, that sounded pretty damn boring — besides, he could afford to feel like a freeloader every now and then. He was a Klein, for fucks’ sake. Everyone had to respect him, even if they thought he was a piece of shit.

Still, sitting and watching the world go by around him was getting a bit monotonous. Rising to his feet, the splotched male yawned widely, formidable fangs glinting in the sun. Even as a mere pup, his teeth were razor sharp, and he knew it all too well. He smirked as he rolled his shoulders and proceeded to walk aimlessly. He could bug his siblings and mess around with them, but that was a fruitless endeavor. Besides, he thought to himself as he padded across the silent land, they know me too well. They’re not stupid enough to fall for my ploys. Ah well. There was always a victim out there, though. He’d just have to hope some meek little lamb would come across him, and when they’d witness who he truly was, he loved seeing the look of utter betrayal and fear in their eyes. It was just a big game to him, and he felt like the damn ringleader.

Finding some refuge in the shade of a large tree, the boy’s silver eyes caught a glimpse of some moving dots across the ground. Thr base of the large tree had numerous anthills, and he found himself mesmerized in their diligent work. His gaze then flickered mischievously to the little raised bumps that they poured in and out of. Aw, they spent so much time on those things, didn’t they? He merveled, cautiously stepping closer. Ants..they were such fascinating little creatures. Mindless little drones, yet organic in shape and form, and so easily manipulated. He knew they worked under a ‘queen’ ant or whatever, right? Following orders, building tunnels, collecting morsels of food. They were like a pack of their own, providing for each other in a vast community. He smiled softly at the wonder of the hardworking insects. Who couldn’t appreciate such tiny things, working all day without a care in the world?

After a few minutes, the novelty of ant-watching faded. Alright, this is getting fucking boring, He thought with a roll of his eyes. Streetching his powerful forelimbs, he proceeded to stomp the anthills, a toothy cheshire grin spreading across his face as the ants scattered in a panic, ticklijg his toes as he crushed them too, a shrill cackle bubbling from his lips as he did so. "Run, you stupid things, run!" He shouted, swiping the anthills until dust clouded the air. "You guys are such idiots, geez!” He snorted, watching as the little insects fought to regain their senses. With a sigh, he turned around and walked another direction, searching for more fun. It was nice while it lasted; the thrill of destroying something weaker than he, then watching the consequences of his actions unfold. To him, it was the best form of entertainment possible. Still, they were just ants. Even a a newborn pup was stronger than them by a landslide. But he had to be patient. Soon, he could wreak havoc on the lives of others, too, toying with them.

The cheshire grin on his lips split his face again. Ah, how much fun that would be. Just a little longer, then.