Post by ElliBleu on Aug 21, 2008 12:41:07 GMT -6
Name: Rielle Feras Moraine
Gender: Female
Age: Physically about 20
Species: Werewolf
Personality: Rather quiet, speaking only when she has something of importance to share. though more free with her words around friends or Pack. Actually rather shy, and tends to be a loner at times, but the friends she happens to make she holds tightly to and values above all else. Ri will stand up for those close to her without thinking or caring about the consequences, which can lead to trouble.
She's honest to a fault, but capable and willing to weave complex lies if the situation so requires. A proud canine, she's loyal beyond all reason to those who have earned it and would lay her own life down without question for those chosen few.
Intensely curious, and having exceptional skill at getting past locked doors and traps blocking the things she's curious about. Hates confrontation, but has a terrible temper when pushed. She will bite and bite hard when a situation calls for it.
Prone to breakdowns when the stress becomes too much, though she keeps to herself at these times.
She has been backstabbed and betrayed a few too many times in the past years so she's plagued with intense paranoia and can be afraid of letting anyone get close. Cautious and overly wary in everything she does, a necessity as hunting down rogue wolves has become her job.
A rather dominant wolf.
Easily flustered when receiving compliments, especially if said compliments are directed to her physical appearance. Doesn't think of herself as any sort of beauty, though she's got that permanently young-and-toned werewolf thing going for her.
Appearance: Sort of punk-rock meets beach-volleyball. Messy wine-red hair that reaches her waist with long bangs. Top layer of her hair is much shorter and spiked messily around her head, and two long, bubblegum pink strands frame her face. An attractive young woman, caught somewhere between cute and pretty, though she would deny the claim.
Her right eye is green, and her left is a bright amber with a heavy rim- a wolf's eye. A bit on the tall side with a slender, well-toned build. Sharply defined collar and hip bones are softened with just a hint of feminine curves. Her skin is usually tanned from constant outdoor activity, and a handful of tattoos litter her body: a wolf's pawprint below her navel, and tribal designs on each hip, lower back, and a band around her right upper arm.
Prefers to dress conservatively comfortable, usually found in a pair of blue jeans, sneakers, and a fitted t-shirt. A dozen dresses haunt the back of her closet, and she knows how to wear them should the need arise.
In her wolf body she's built like any standard wolf, though on a much larger scale, easily double the size of even a large wolf, weighing in at around 140 pounds. Colored rather like a coyote in browns and tans, though with a considerable amount of red thrown in.
[outdated linkage but you get the idea~!!]
Skills: Basic werewolf fare. Shapeshifting. High metabolism, and equally fast healing. Enhanced senses, strength, and speed. Susceptible to silver weapons.
Please provide a brief RP sample:
[[Old excerpt with a more fantasy!Rielle than true Rielle. She doesn't normally have elf-like ears.]]
Her ears.
She hated them at times like this, stuck chasing smoke in this human town.
Her markings and scars could easily be hidden beneath human clothes. Her hair could be forced straight with water and heat and muted to less drastic color with dye. Even her wolf's eye, burning bright gold, drew little attention hidden beneath a swatch of ribbon and curtain of bangs.
But her ears, pointed and impish and prone to twitching at excessive audial stimuli.... Rielle could feel the people staring. She had tried hiding them beneath a hat or scarf, but the paranoid wolf couldn't stand hindering any of her sharp senses. Besides, the headgear rarely survived a sprint through the trees, torn to shreds or lost to an errant branch.
The reflection staring back at her in the old mirror of her rented lodging made the wolf frown, those ears lowering in self-consciousness.
It was hard to be a wolf alone, always the odd one out.
It was hard to feel the eyes boring into her back whenever she turned.
At least when they stared with their frightened or d**ning eyes it was at her back, always her back, since she was so different back and front.
Her back was a line of firm rigidity. Strong shoulders, as strong as Atlas, as though ready to bear the weight of the world whenever she needed to. But what she saw facing this mirror...
Her front was so different. Collarbones too sharp and a neck too thin to look healthy. A small chest lacking the curve of a grown woman, that motherly shape all she-wolves should have found. Boyish and small and perfectly divided with that scar that refused to fade or she refused to let fade. Once pretty faced but stoic and beaten with passion all at once, gaunt from lack of sleep and paranoia.
Two sides of the same coin.
Rielle swallowed, watching her throat work around the knot constricting it. She had cried too much, selfishly shedding tears for her own misery.
They were just ears.
Nothing to cry over, like a silly pup catching his reflection for the first time in a stream and finding he hadn't yet grown into his oversized cub-ears.
With a resolute nod she squared her shoulders, slim but strong. Alone or no, she was a wolf. And no matter what, wolves survived. They adapted and changed and waited for the spring's promise of game and warmth.
Wrapping a dark green cloak around her Atlas' shoulders Rielle stepped outside to listen to the songs the night shouted, her ears all the better to hear them with.
Gender: Female
Age: Physically about 20
Species: Werewolf
Personality: Rather quiet, speaking only when she has something of importance to share. though more free with her words around friends or Pack. Actually rather shy, and tends to be a loner at times, but the friends she happens to make she holds tightly to and values above all else. Ri will stand up for those close to her without thinking or caring about the consequences, which can lead to trouble.
She's honest to a fault, but capable and willing to weave complex lies if the situation so requires. A proud canine, she's loyal beyond all reason to those who have earned it and would lay her own life down without question for those chosen few.
Intensely curious, and having exceptional skill at getting past locked doors and traps blocking the things she's curious about. Hates confrontation, but has a terrible temper when pushed. She will bite and bite hard when a situation calls for it.
Prone to breakdowns when the stress becomes too much, though she keeps to herself at these times.
She has been backstabbed and betrayed a few too many times in the past years so she's plagued with intense paranoia and can be afraid of letting anyone get close. Cautious and overly wary in everything she does, a necessity as hunting down rogue wolves has become her job.
A rather dominant wolf.
Easily flustered when receiving compliments, especially if said compliments are directed to her physical appearance. Doesn't think of herself as any sort of beauty, though she's got that permanently young-and-toned werewolf thing going for her.
Appearance: Sort of punk-rock meets beach-volleyball. Messy wine-red hair that reaches her waist with long bangs. Top layer of her hair is much shorter and spiked messily around her head, and two long, bubblegum pink strands frame her face. An attractive young woman, caught somewhere between cute and pretty, though she would deny the claim.
Her right eye is green, and her left is a bright amber with a heavy rim- a wolf's eye. A bit on the tall side with a slender, well-toned build. Sharply defined collar and hip bones are softened with just a hint of feminine curves. Her skin is usually tanned from constant outdoor activity, and a handful of tattoos litter her body: a wolf's pawprint below her navel, and tribal designs on each hip, lower back, and a band around her right upper arm.
Prefers to dress conservatively comfortable, usually found in a pair of blue jeans, sneakers, and a fitted t-shirt. A dozen dresses haunt the back of her closet, and she knows how to wear them should the need arise.
In her wolf body she's built like any standard wolf, though on a much larger scale, easily double the size of even a large wolf, weighing in at around 140 pounds. Colored rather like a coyote in browns and tans, though with a considerable amount of red thrown in.
[outdated linkage but you get the idea~!!]
Skills: Basic werewolf fare. Shapeshifting. High metabolism, and equally fast healing. Enhanced senses, strength, and speed. Susceptible to silver weapons.
Please provide a brief RP sample:
[[Old excerpt with a more fantasy!Rielle than true Rielle. She doesn't normally have elf-like ears.]]
Her ears.
She hated them at times like this, stuck chasing smoke in this human town.
Her markings and scars could easily be hidden beneath human clothes. Her hair could be forced straight with water and heat and muted to less drastic color with dye. Even her wolf's eye, burning bright gold, drew little attention hidden beneath a swatch of ribbon and curtain of bangs.
But her ears, pointed and impish and prone to twitching at excessive audial stimuli.... Rielle could feel the people staring. She had tried hiding them beneath a hat or scarf, but the paranoid wolf couldn't stand hindering any of her sharp senses. Besides, the headgear rarely survived a sprint through the trees, torn to shreds or lost to an errant branch.
The reflection staring back at her in the old mirror of her rented lodging made the wolf frown, those ears lowering in self-consciousness.
It was hard to be a wolf alone, always the odd one out.
It was hard to feel the eyes boring into her back whenever she turned.
At least when they stared with their frightened or d**ning eyes it was at her back, always her back, since she was so different back and front.
Her back was a line of firm rigidity. Strong shoulders, as strong as Atlas, as though ready to bear the weight of the world whenever she needed to. But what she saw facing this mirror...
Her front was so different. Collarbones too sharp and a neck too thin to look healthy. A small chest lacking the curve of a grown woman, that motherly shape all she-wolves should have found. Boyish and small and perfectly divided with that scar that refused to fade or she refused to let fade. Once pretty faced but stoic and beaten with passion all at once, gaunt from lack of sleep and paranoia.
Two sides of the same coin.
Rielle swallowed, watching her throat work around the knot constricting it. She had cried too much, selfishly shedding tears for her own misery.
They were just ears.
Nothing to cry over, like a silly pup catching his reflection for the first time in a stream and finding he hadn't yet grown into his oversized cub-ears.
With a resolute nod she squared her shoulders, slim but strong. Alone or no, she was a wolf. And no matter what, wolves survived. They adapted and changed and waited for the spring's promise of game and warmth.
Wrapping a dark green cloak around her Atlas' shoulders Rielle stepped outside to listen to the songs the night shouted, her ears all the better to hear them with.