Brother and Sister
06-11-2013, 04:44 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-11-2013, 08:19 PM by Cherokee.)
Name:Demyan
Age: 2
Appearance: He gargantuan, towering over his sister. His body is packed with solid, steel like muscle, giving him the power to dismember practically anyone. His coat is a solid light grey, with a only a few disruptions. He has black tips on his ears and black tip to his tail. A band of darker grey adorns his left foreleg, just above his elbow while his right foreleg is completely dipped in a darker grey, the tips of his right paw, right around the claws is dipped in white. He wears a white mask around both cheeks that envelops his muzzle but does not surpass his nose. At the bridge of his muzzle, spanning up from his nose is a dark grey line that thins out and stops halfway up the bridge of his muzzle. Underlining his cyan blue eyes are thick dark grey arrows.
note: I want to buy extra height for him so he can be a huge monster
Personality: He's a book you'd rather not open up but that you feel compelled to anyway. There are no redeeming qualities to this boy. There could have been maybe some when he was a pup, but those are long gone by now. Just a distant memory. He has no heart. A physical one yes, but the other one is either non-existent or buried so deep inside he's not aware of it. The word mercy isn't in his vocabulary. That would insinuate that he's a good boy and he is so far from that. There's not a single good bone in his gargantuan body. What use would it do him? He lives for the thrill of the kill and for the cries of his helpless victims. Dismemberment is one of his favorite past times, especially of those who are stupid enough to piss him off. His quick mind allows him to come up with all different kinds of methods for torture, his second favorite past time. He's a cold one, emotion virtually nonexistent with him. He feels nothing but satisfaction once a victim ceases to struggle beneath him. He's relatively stoic except for the cruel sneer that is often found twisting his blood-stained lips. He's usually the silent type, preferring not to give you a warning before he decides to tear your head from your shoulders. But he does have a temper. It's instantaneous, like lighting a match to a flame. Once he's ignited, you can count yourself good as dead. On top of his more violent tendencies, if you can somehow manage to get through to him, he can the most loyal boy you would ever meet, just like his sister. Perhaps somewhere deep inside he could learn to care for another being's life, but for the moment he enjoys killing and torturing other to much to bother with anything beside that.
History: Demyan and his sister Cataleya were the only two survivors of their litter. Of course they were, being the biggest of the group. Their weaker younger siblings all slowly died off and it was then that the two siblings were introduced to their true natures. Rather than let them die peacefully, Demyan prolonged their suffering, long enough for Cataleya to step in and have her first taste of blood. Their birth parents were nowhere to be found, having abandoned the duo and left them to their own devices. Cataleya was soon to disappear as well, leaving Demyan alone, but not for long. Being the quick learner that he was, he was able to track his sister's scent to their new surrogate pack, where the she-wolf that had taken in his sister greeted him and accepted him into the pack. She should've known what she was getting herself into. The new pack they had been accepted into wasn't very fond of he and his sisters pastimes, so he would often wander away to fulfill his pastimes, often spending hours away while his sister did her own thing. Their new parents began to train the young siblings, teaching them the art of assassination. They weren't a ruthless pack looking to kill whoever they came into contact with, but more of a realistic pack, knowing that they had to have to wolves who specialized in nearly everything. When they turned one his sister was sent off to her first mission, returning successful after that. It was after her mission that things spiraled out of control. She could no longer control her desire to kill and so she went on a killing spree, massacring the entire pack. Demyan relished in his sisters spree, finally able to practice his pastime without retribution. How much fun he had. After the pack was dead and good the siblings wandered off, continuing to practice their killing. They were both able to somehow control themselves enough where they were senselessly killing so now they could wear the appearance of normal wolves, able to function normally inside a pack.
RP Example: Oh the blood. The rich, delicious, thick, heady blood. They didn't know how long he'd been waiting for this to happen. They were idiots for having allowed he and his sister inside of their pack. Could they not see the bloodlust and malice glistening in their young eyes? Perhaps they had been to damn stupid to realize or simply ignorant of such things. They had brought this upon themselves. They had brought Demyan and Cataleya in, they had given them the skills to hone their lusting. The siblings had merely taken what had been provided to them and used it to their advantage. It was not their fault that their surrogate parents hadn't been aware of the fact that they were harboring hell sent devils.
It was a wintery night, the temperatures well below zero, but Demyan couldn't feel the cold. He could only feel his blood boiling inside his veins, thundering across his body as the sounds of his sister's killing reached his ears. Crown was tossed back, lids falling closed as he basked in the moonlight, a soft breath escaping his inky lips. Finally. It had been too long of a wait. Rolling his shoulders the gargantuan brute moved towards the sounds of the killing, his gaze falling across a marvelous sight. Their surrogate pack, bloodied and dying all around him, his sister up ahead, bathed in blood as she took one life after another. A sinister grin curved his ebon jaws, tail lashing in anticipation. He moved slowly, gaze roving from his left to his right across the lifeless bodies of what used to be the pack. They were weaklings, unfit to breathe the air he breathed. They were better off dead. His sister was doing them a favor. The hellion approached a particular carcass, this one belonging to a now dead pup. It's tiny eyes were glazed, looking in the direction of the rest of the pack, its jaw agape, as if to ask for help, its throat brutally slashed open. Useless child. With a snarl Demyan went for the body, his powerful jaws clamping over the exposed throat, canines slashing cleanly through the flesh as he ripped the head from the body, a sickening crunch reaching his ears as he broke the spinal cord. With a toss of his might head he sent the head flying, watching as it rolled back in the direction he came, coming to a stop in the middle of the carcasses.
What a delightful view. He continued on, looking from carcass to carcass, seeing only the deceased. It wasn't until the pack began thinning out that he noticed a survivor among the dead. He sauntered over, wicked grin still plastered on his face. The survivor, who's throat too was brutally slashed and bleeding heavily turned towards Demyan, its eyes pleading. Demyan please help me...your sister has gone mad and has killed the entire pack. Please, you must help me... The wolf's cries fell on deaf ears. Demyan wasn't one to help others. With a cruel laugh he lowered his jaws, leveling his gaze with the dying wolf. You ignorant fools... came his venomous baritones, jaws clamping on the underside of the survivors jaw. The other wolf yelped, painful screams filling his ears as he crushed its lower mandible, leaving it hanging by only a single tissue. The wolf struggled beneath him, trying to get away, but it was too late. Demyan laughed, a low, throaty sound as he dipped his jaws into the open throat, canines clasping the trachea as he ripped it out with a single tug, the now useless tissue hanging limply from his jaws. The dying wolf twitched, unable to speak, unable to move, unable to get away. The giant of a brute spit the fools trachea back in his face, leading it hanging between his eyes and over one ear. Help yourself now... He growled synically, laughing to himself as he stalked off, tail lashing dangerously behind his powerful haunches, salmon ribbon lashing out lick his lips clean of the survivors blood. Off to find more to torture.
How often are you online?: Everyday XD
Age: 2
Appearance: He gargantuan, towering over his sister. His body is packed with solid, steel like muscle, giving him the power to dismember practically anyone. His coat is a solid light grey, with a only a few disruptions. He has black tips on his ears and black tip to his tail. A band of darker grey adorns his left foreleg, just above his elbow while his right foreleg is completely dipped in a darker grey, the tips of his right paw, right around the claws is dipped in white. He wears a white mask around both cheeks that envelops his muzzle but does not surpass his nose. At the bridge of his muzzle, spanning up from his nose is a dark grey line that thins out and stops halfway up the bridge of his muzzle. Underlining his cyan blue eyes are thick dark grey arrows.
note: I want to buy extra height for him so he can be a huge monster
Personality: He's a book you'd rather not open up but that you feel compelled to anyway. There are no redeeming qualities to this boy. There could have been maybe some when he was a pup, but those are long gone by now. Just a distant memory. He has no heart. A physical one yes, but the other one is either non-existent or buried so deep inside he's not aware of it. The word mercy isn't in his vocabulary. That would insinuate that he's a good boy and he is so far from that. There's not a single good bone in his gargantuan body. What use would it do him? He lives for the thrill of the kill and for the cries of his helpless victims. Dismemberment is one of his favorite past times, especially of those who are stupid enough to piss him off. His quick mind allows him to come up with all different kinds of methods for torture, his second favorite past time. He's a cold one, emotion virtually nonexistent with him. He feels nothing but satisfaction once a victim ceases to struggle beneath him. He's relatively stoic except for the cruel sneer that is often found twisting his blood-stained lips. He's usually the silent type, preferring not to give you a warning before he decides to tear your head from your shoulders. But he does have a temper. It's instantaneous, like lighting a match to a flame. Once he's ignited, you can count yourself good as dead. On top of his more violent tendencies, if you can somehow manage to get through to him, he can the most loyal boy you would ever meet, just like his sister. Perhaps somewhere deep inside he could learn to care for another being's life, but for the moment he enjoys killing and torturing other to much to bother with anything beside that.
History: Demyan and his sister Cataleya were the only two survivors of their litter. Of course they were, being the biggest of the group. Their weaker younger siblings all slowly died off and it was then that the two siblings were introduced to their true natures. Rather than let them die peacefully, Demyan prolonged their suffering, long enough for Cataleya to step in and have her first taste of blood. Their birth parents were nowhere to be found, having abandoned the duo and left them to their own devices. Cataleya was soon to disappear as well, leaving Demyan alone, but not for long. Being the quick learner that he was, he was able to track his sister's scent to their new surrogate pack, where the she-wolf that had taken in his sister greeted him and accepted him into the pack. She should've known what she was getting herself into. The new pack they had been accepted into wasn't very fond of he and his sisters pastimes, so he would often wander away to fulfill his pastimes, often spending hours away while his sister did her own thing. Their new parents began to train the young siblings, teaching them the art of assassination. They weren't a ruthless pack looking to kill whoever they came into contact with, but more of a realistic pack, knowing that they had to have to wolves who specialized in nearly everything. When they turned one his sister was sent off to her first mission, returning successful after that. It was after her mission that things spiraled out of control. She could no longer control her desire to kill and so she went on a killing spree, massacring the entire pack. Demyan relished in his sisters spree, finally able to practice his pastime without retribution. How much fun he had. After the pack was dead and good the siblings wandered off, continuing to practice their killing. They were both able to somehow control themselves enough where they were senselessly killing so now they could wear the appearance of normal wolves, able to function normally inside a pack.
RP Example: Oh the blood. The rich, delicious, thick, heady blood. They didn't know how long he'd been waiting for this to happen. They were idiots for having allowed he and his sister inside of their pack. Could they not see the bloodlust and malice glistening in their young eyes? Perhaps they had been to damn stupid to realize or simply ignorant of such things. They had brought this upon themselves. They had brought Demyan and Cataleya in, they had given them the skills to hone their lusting. The siblings had merely taken what had been provided to them and used it to their advantage. It was not their fault that their surrogate parents hadn't been aware of the fact that they were harboring hell sent devils.
It was a wintery night, the temperatures well below zero, but Demyan couldn't feel the cold. He could only feel his blood boiling inside his veins, thundering across his body as the sounds of his sister's killing reached his ears. Crown was tossed back, lids falling closed as he basked in the moonlight, a soft breath escaping his inky lips. Finally. It had been too long of a wait. Rolling his shoulders the gargantuan brute moved towards the sounds of the killing, his gaze falling across a marvelous sight. Their surrogate pack, bloodied and dying all around him, his sister up ahead, bathed in blood as she took one life after another. A sinister grin curved his ebon jaws, tail lashing in anticipation. He moved slowly, gaze roving from his left to his right across the lifeless bodies of what used to be the pack. They were weaklings, unfit to breathe the air he breathed. They were better off dead. His sister was doing them a favor. The hellion approached a particular carcass, this one belonging to a now dead pup. It's tiny eyes were glazed, looking in the direction of the rest of the pack, its jaw agape, as if to ask for help, its throat brutally slashed open. Useless child. With a snarl Demyan went for the body, his powerful jaws clamping over the exposed throat, canines slashing cleanly through the flesh as he ripped the head from the body, a sickening crunch reaching his ears as he broke the spinal cord. With a toss of his might head he sent the head flying, watching as it rolled back in the direction he came, coming to a stop in the middle of the carcasses.
What a delightful view. He continued on, looking from carcass to carcass, seeing only the deceased. It wasn't until the pack began thinning out that he noticed a survivor among the dead. He sauntered over, wicked grin still plastered on his face. The survivor, who's throat too was brutally slashed and bleeding heavily turned towards Demyan, its eyes pleading. Demyan please help me...your sister has gone mad and has killed the entire pack. Please, you must help me... The wolf's cries fell on deaf ears. Demyan wasn't one to help others. With a cruel laugh he lowered his jaws, leveling his gaze with the dying wolf. You ignorant fools... came his venomous baritones, jaws clamping on the underside of the survivors jaw. The other wolf yelped, painful screams filling his ears as he crushed its lower mandible, leaving it hanging by only a single tissue. The wolf struggled beneath him, trying to get away, but it was too late. Demyan laughed, a low, throaty sound as he dipped his jaws into the open throat, canines clasping the trachea as he ripped it out with a single tug, the now useless tissue hanging limply from his jaws. The dying wolf twitched, unable to speak, unable to move, unable to get away. The giant of a brute spit the fools trachea back in his face, leading it hanging between his eyes and over one ear. Help yourself now... He growled synically, laughing to himself as he stalked off, tail lashing dangerously behind his powerful haunches, salmon ribbon lashing out lick his lips clean of the survivors blood. Off to find more to torture.
How often are you online?: Everyday XD