Post by Corvus on May 31, 2018 23:40:03 GMT -5
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Ichabod
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[/div][/quote][/div][newclass=.wapp]width:450px;height:600px;border:solid 1px #302b2b;[/newclass][attr="class","wappleftdec"] [attr="class","wappsection"]BASICS [attr="class","wapprightdec"] |
| Nicknames: None.[break][break] Age: Three years.[break][break] Species/Breed: Wolf.[break][break] Group: Stray[break] Gender: Male.[break][break] Sexuality: Bisexual |
[attr="class","wappleftdec"] [attr="class","wappsection"]APPEARANCE [attr="class","wapprightdec"] |
Picture - Wincey[break] [break] Ichabod is an intimidating figure. He stands at 35 inches at the shoulder and weighs 150 pounds. He is capable of taking hits, as well as dealing out a good bit of damage of his own. His coat is thick, full and dark. This allows for him to blend in with the darker undergrowth, but makes him quite noticeable when in sunnier and more colorful areas. His fur is primarily black but has a specks of whites and grays throughout it. Ichabod's eyes are an intense amber color. They are capable of showing a great range of emotion, much to his annoyance. It wouldn't be hard to gauge how the brute is feeling on the inside. |
[attr="class","wappleftdec"] [attr="class","wappsection"]PERSONALITY [attr="class","wapprightdec"] |
| ▶ Commanding. There is something about Ichabod that seems to hold others' attention. He has yet to figure it out himself entirely. His best guess is how well spoken he is. It seems to make others want to listen to what he has to say. When placed in a leadership position, he seems to naturally fall into the role, and is quite good at assigning wolves to tasks that will suit their skills best. However he can stumble over this if he doesn't know the wolf very well.[break] [break] ▶ Intelligent. Ichabod's smarts is probably one of his strongest selling points. He has a sharp mind that makes him suitable for tense situations where one must think quickly. New knowledge is always a pursuit of his. He makes a fine strategist as well, spending a good portion of his time making up possible situations and the injuries/casualties that could possibly come from them. A small part of him finds it cathartic.[break] [break] ▶ Brave. Though he rarely goes looking for it,Ichabod is hardly one to shy away from danger. Despite his gruff exterior he is the most likely to put his life on the line for those he has grown close to and cares for. He is the type to be the first into battle and the last to leave.[break] [break] ▶ Vindictive. A fool was brave enough to call Ichabod petty once. It was a mistake they didn't repeat. Ichabod isn't petty. He's simply a strong believer in 'you get what's coming to you' and makes it a goal to make sure that those have slighted him get their comeuppances. Those that harm him or those he cares for have a lot to worry about. He'll come for you. It isn't a question of if he'll get his revenge, it's a matter of when.[break] [break] ▶ Particular. The brute is very selective about the company he keeps, and even more finicky about the way he wants things done. A good way to get on his bad side is to purposely go against what he says without a good reason to.[break] [break] ▶ Callous. Ichabod's a hard guy to get along with, and an even harder one to befriend. He's known to bluntly give his opinion on ideals, wolves, and events with very little concern for any of those he hurts with his words. He appears to have little regard for other's feelings which can lead to very heated altercations. It's not very unlikely you'll get an apology either. |
[attr="class","wappleftdec"] [attr="class","wappsection"]HISTORY [attr="class","wapprightdec"] |
| ▶ Year One. [break] Ichabod was born the largest, and the loudest, of his litter. As a pup, he was often needy and demanded his mother's attention almost constantly, and becoming upset when he wasn't given it fully and one hundred percent of the time. Not the type to be ignored, Ichabod began bullying his siblings; pushing them over when they began to walk or muscling them out of the way when feeding time came. Though none of them were aware of it at the time these actions planted resentment into his sibling hearts. As they grew, they often refused to play with Ichabod, claiming that he was to big and pushy to play. His eldest sister even going so far as to say that he was to dumb to get the games they were playing. Angered by her words, Ichabod set to playing his own games, pretending to have much more fun this his sibling were, just out of spite. Out of necessity his mother became almost a constant companion, overseeing and even sometimes participating in whatever childish scheme he had come up with that day.[break] [break] When it came time to learn how to hunt, Ichabod fell behind his litter mates. His larger size made him less agile while his smaller, leaner siblings had no trouble keeping up with prey when it was on the run. With his mother and father's help, he developed a hunting style that fit him, which relied much more on surprising the animals and taking them down quickly, then running and tiring them out. This hardly matter however, when bitter, hateful siblings chased prey off before Ichabod got a chance to catch it. Though his parent scolded them, it was clear that they had no intentions of letting up now that they finally had the upper hand over Ichabod.[break] [break] Around a year in age, it became apparent to Ichabod hat his parent would not be able to protect him from his siblings' wraith. Steeling himself for the cold hard world, he decided to take his chances on his own, wondering far from his home and family.[break] [break] ▶ Year Two.[break] Though he hadn't expected it to be, life on his own was not easy for Ichabod. His meals were small and eaten quickly eaten and not all that often. As a lone wolf he was easily chased off from larger meals he managed to take down by other groups and smaller meals weren't nearly enough or worth the effort put into catching them. Thus far he hadn't learned how to properly defend himself or his food, so any fight he managed to put up was futile, and ultimately a losing battle. Desperate and starving, Ichabod miserably began to make his way home. As stubborn as he was, he knew constant teasing and harassment were better then starving to death.[break] [break] Before he could make it home,however; he came across a roaming pack which quickly became a silver lining for him. The alpha was kind and surprising willing to allow Ichabod to travel with his pack. As long as he pulled his weight and respected his betters, he was welcome. With a pack at his back, Ichabod quickly filled out again, gaining muscle and fighting experience as he went. Sparring was often a pass time withing the pack and he quickly developed his skills. Seemingly a natural at combat, the brute was assigned to guard duty rather then hunting patrol by the alpha. Ichabod was pleased with this, he liked fighting a whole more then hunting. However, this was also when his temper began to rear it's ugly head.[break] [break] One day he was addressed by an irate pack mate. The other had wanted to be put on guard duty but had been beaten out of it by Ichabod. The pack mate accused him of only getting the job because he the alpha liked him and that he truly didn't deserve the rank because he hadn't truly earned it. Furious as the accusations, Ichabod lunged, teeth bared and a fight ensued. When they parted, bloodied and and beaten, the alpha stood before them. When asked, the hunter accused Ichabod of starting the battle, lunging unprovoked when he had been asked to help the other with a few combat tips. Enraged, the alpha banished Ichabod without another word, and with rage still pumping through his veins, the brute departed.[break] [break] ▶ Year Three.[break] Ichabod now wanders on his own. He hasn't encountered any wolves that he is on a friendly basis on since the pack. He has worked with a wanderer here and there for an easy meal but has never stayed long term. |
[attr="class","wappleftdec"] [attr="class","wappsection"]EXTRAS [attr="class","wapprightdec"] |
| OOC Name: Corvus.[break][break] Pronouns: Answer.[break][break] RP Preferences: [break] A thick fog rolls lazily across the forest floor. Above various birds cry out their songs. The sun breaks through the thick foliage of the taller tree's branches and falls, scattered, to the ground below. An erratic beam lands on Anthem's shoulder, momentarily making the spot lighter then the shadowed fur around it. A few short steps later it has traveled along the length of his body before reaching it's original destination on the forest floor. It's warmth was a welcome feeling, no matter how brief. Despite it being summer, a strange chill seems to have settled into this place. It has a peculiar way of bypassing even Anthem's thick coat. He attributes it to being so close to the ocean. The brute can practically smell the salt in the air even here. [break] [break] He pauses for moment to access the area. Dense shrubbery surrounds him. Smaller plants, herbs and mosses he notes, sprout from the ground. He briefly admires their perseverance. They've managed to grow healthy and strong without the constant caress of the sun that they so desperately need. It's a show of strength that is displayed so casually he almost laughs. Huffing, he turns his attentions away from the plant life, though there isn't much besides it. He can pick out the smells of prey, but nothing larger. He's slightly disappointed by the lack of his own kind, but decides to not dwell on it too much. They were somewhere, he just had to be patient. [break] [break] The fog, which seems to be sweeping in from the coast, does make it slightly difficult to see to far ahead of oneself, he realizes belatedly. It would be an asset in some situations he supposes, but with him being unfamiliar with the area it sets him on edge. Anything, or anyone, could be waiting in ambush here. They wouldn't get an easy fight. He'd make sure of it.[break] [break] Despite the possible enemies that could be hidden within, he has to admit there is an odd sense of beauty possessed by the haze. It almost makes the area seem ethereal. 'It's like those old fairy tales,' he thinks mildly. He doesn't have much experience with them, except for that brief time he spent with with that Eder and his small 'family', but he's always been slightly enthralled by them. It was something about the improbability of the situations, he guesses. A traitorous voice in the back of his mind pipes up that it's the normalcy of it. Pups snuggled up to their mothers as spectacular worlds are spread out before them. It was something he'd never had, no matter how desperately he had craved it. He shakes his head angrily as the same voice reminds him that he'd had it, but his own stubborn temper had destroyed it.[break] [break] "Quiet," he hisses lowly, but it's surprisingly loud in the emptiness. He didn't need all that mushiness, to be so dependent on someone else. He'd survived before his encounter with that strange pack, and he'd survive afterwards too. [break] |
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