WE ARE TITANS

Apollo Olympus
Son of Natalya & Helios

Appearance - A stark contrast to the usual Olympus features, Apollo is anything but ordinary. His coat is made up of the brightest of whites, shadowed here and there in shades of light opaque pink. He is an albino through and through, making pink and white his primary color scheme. And as if that weren't enough to make him stand out among his family, Apollo is also rather lean and gangly in appearance. He never quite filled out after losing his puppy fat, and therefore looks to be nearly skin and bones. Speed is certainly his only positive trait save for his height, which is two inches taller than most wolves he's ever had the pleasure of meeting.

Personality - Apollo, being an albino, feels himself cast out and cursed by the gods. Though his faith still resides in them wholeheartedly, he can often be considered sullen and standoffish. Despite this, he has been known to be talkative - and he seems to especially like to speak cryptically, in rhymes, or in parables that often have no actual truth to them. His tongue can be bitter and his mind can be dark, though deep down he cares so deeply it's almost painful. His emotions drive him and make him who he is, which only fuels his volatile nature. He is quick to anger, slow to forgive, skeptical to a fault, and incredibly passionate when he lets his guard down. He is a passionate lover, an intense worshipper, and a strong-willed fighter. Apollo is hard to read and even harder to understand, but he likes it that way. He loves his family and would consider it a great honor to sacrifice himself for them, after all - he is the accursed one.

Rp Sample - The moonlight lit him aglow as he slipped through the quiet of the night, avoiding the sympathetic glances of his family. They had taken to remaining in groups when able, and though he liked their company he couldn't help but loathe it. They all had been blessed, given varying talents and forms of beauty by the gods. It seemed, even on the day of his own conception, that he had drawn the genetic short-straw and therefore would always remain a step behind even his younger relatives. Each of them had seen battle, had waged war and won it, and had been shown mercy when applicable. What talent did he have? Of what use was he to them save for a body to consume heat from their sleeping bodies and food from their table. Vile thoughts entered his head as he twisted away from them all, seeking out a source of water - not that he deserved it. He had done nothing, nothing to warrant his thirst save for drying out his own tongue with spiteful verbiage. As he drew near to the water his bone-thin cranium would drop to the source of life, momentarily thanking the gods for its presence before quenching his thirst.