Post by Axial on Dec 30, 2008 11:44:13 GMT -5
ADULT APPLICATION
Character Information
Dubbance Axial
Lifetime Three
Gender
Lineage Italian Wolf x Heavenhound
Parentals
Siblings Affect
Mated?
Spawn?
Website
Desired rank Scout
Description Heaven has never been so dashing. Beastie was of a mixed heritage; daddy was Italy’s finest specimen of wolf, and mama was a heavensent bitch if ever there was one. The results were only what they expected visually; bastard, donned in a convergence of sweet, heavenly hues, but his personality?. Oh, he was loyal and all that, jazz cats- but when it came to the ladies? Charm ‘em and bed ‘em, that was the rule. One would wonder if it would be better to send him to a lab, to be made human; everything about his personality was saturated with the typical gambler stereotype, after all, so why not toss him in a casino and waste his life there? Impossible to read, quick-witted, and with a smile to dazzle male and female, Axial was a true enigma to his roots.
Roleplaying
Socializing
Terro noticed his scent before anything else. Bitch was downwind of the approaching alpha, and the scant whispers of breeze drifting her way were saturated with the Overlord’s dominating cologne. Though as he approached, one particular feature was noted – he did not carry himself as an overlord would. There was no totalitarian posture, no hot-tempered snorting or fury-slick gaze. Sardonic grin graced the slut’s kissers at the greeting thrown her way. Too bad he was alpha. If it weren’t such taboo thinking, to state it bluntly – she’d tap that.
Instead, she would keep herself dignified, keeping all dirty thoughts which came to her so naturally to herself. Gathering her muscles up, she’d lift her slender form to its feet, tail tucked neatly between hindquarters and harks plastered to her pretty skull. “Good afternoon, cap’n,” she replied, winking before giving him a submissive little nudge. She knew her place – such action was a sign of respect to her leader, and hell if she wasn’t respectful. Being the vor’s fighter-bitch for a while taught her – you don’t show respect, you get the back of the hand.
Taking steps backwards once her little greeting had been made, satin-pelted femme would sit her dainty ass on the ground, caudal curling around the curved muscle of her haunch. “So,” she said, the jazzy tones in her baritone vocals weighing out all existence of an accent, “What brings m’lord all the way out to this nook of the earth?” With a slight toss of her head, the whore removed all the flathawk out of her vision, awaiting reply with a smile upon her velvets.
lolyayhainepost
Fighting
daunt.proboards85.com/index.cgi?board=logs&action=display&thread=11 c:
Hunting
It was a clear night – the swath of darkness across the horizon was brushed with a shimmering veil of celestial lights, dancing about the moon as if it were a the tip of a maypole. Such a beautiful example of a summer night – so rich, and full of life.
Kaledrin crouched where he had been standing, cursing his supposedly killer instincts. Had he really been so distracted by his thoughts? Snowy-hued form crouched, doing his best to sink into the entangling foliage and the shadows of the woods. Damn. His target right now was a small clutch of deer, perhaps a small herd or stragglers from a bigger one. His blood was beginning to pump with the rising ecstasy of bloodlust, and it was all he could do to keep from just pouncing out there and going nuts on the lot. But fortunately, he wasn’t an idiot. An entire idiot.
Limbs folded just an inch more, rendering the bastard invisible to the animals he was downwind from. More good luck. The animals were in a fairly open area, cleared of all but wildflowers and small bushels of brush, but they were situated very close to a copse he could access if he was nice and quiet. Awesome. So the bastard went about weaving his fluid body throughout the more clear areas of the foliage, his bulk calling for a little bit of room for good sneaking. It didn’t take too long to reach his prized spot – but damn, his patience was short. He crouched, belly snaking to the ground, then got close enough for dinner to hear him. Just when they froze, wondering if that scent was danger or not, he pounced. Of course, they had moved into action before he had, and scattered – their instincts were better than his tonight. Driven by his madly racing heart, he pushed forwards, eating up the distance between himself and his prize – a doe in full health. Egomaniac, wasn’t he? But he was fresh, and she didn’t look as if she was.
So the battle of the fancy footwork began. She tried to outrun him, pivoting, leaping, engaging him in a tango of the wilds – but tonight, she would be outdanced. The doe faltered, for a mere hint of a second, and her predator took that opportunity. A final lunge earned from him a delicious treat. He got high enough to sink the talons of his foreclaws into her shoulder and drag her to the ground on top of him. Oof. That would hurt later – but for now he was too high on the kill to even think about the tender bruises already forming. Quick moving got him to wrestle the doe, earning him a position on top of her.
“Hey lover, let me give you a kiss,” cocky bastard sunk his teeth straight into her neck, pressing down with dangerous bite force. The blood immediately spurted, coating his mouth slick with the red stuff. Oh, now this was heaven. She was still struggling, but losing life fast. Time to make this quick. Talons manoeuvred until they were just above her backbone, then they slipped into her flesh and the grizzly work began. They tore that spine right apart, as the struggling creature stopped her struggling.
Bachelor’s bloodied muzzle tipped upward, and sang out to family nearby. Dinnertime, dearlings, so come and get it.
Character Information
Dubbance Axial
Lifetime Three
Gender
Lineage Italian Wolf x Heavenhound
Siblings Affect
Desired rank Scout
Description Heaven has never been so dashing. Beastie was of a mixed heritage; daddy was Italy’s finest specimen of wolf, and mama was a heavensent bitch if ever there was one. The results were only what they expected visually; bastard, donned in a convergence of sweet, heavenly hues, but his personality?. Oh, he was loyal and all that, jazz cats- but when it came to the ladies? Charm ‘em and bed ‘em, that was the rule. One would wonder if it would be better to send him to a lab, to be made human; everything about his personality was saturated with the typical gambler stereotype, after all, so why not toss him in a casino and waste his life there? Impossible to read, quick-witted, and with a smile to dazzle male and female, Axial was a true enigma to his roots.
Roleplaying
Socializing
Terro noticed his scent before anything else. Bitch was downwind of the approaching alpha, and the scant whispers of breeze drifting her way were saturated with the Overlord’s dominating cologne. Though as he approached, one particular feature was noted – he did not carry himself as an overlord would. There was no totalitarian posture, no hot-tempered snorting or fury-slick gaze. Sardonic grin graced the slut’s kissers at the greeting thrown her way. Too bad he was alpha. If it weren’t such taboo thinking, to state it bluntly – she’d tap that.
Instead, she would keep herself dignified, keeping all dirty thoughts which came to her so naturally to herself. Gathering her muscles up, she’d lift her slender form to its feet, tail tucked neatly between hindquarters and harks plastered to her pretty skull. “Good afternoon, cap’n,” she replied, winking before giving him a submissive little nudge. She knew her place – such action was a sign of respect to her leader, and hell if she wasn’t respectful. Being the vor’s fighter-bitch for a while taught her – you don’t show respect, you get the back of the hand.
Taking steps backwards once her little greeting had been made, satin-pelted femme would sit her dainty ass on the ground, caudal curling around the curved muscle of her haunch. “So,” she said, the jazzy tones in her baritone vocals weighing out all existence of an accent, “What brings m’lord all the way out to this nook of the earth?” With a slight toss of her head, the whore removed all the flathawk out of her vision, awaiting reply with a smile upon her velvets.
lolyayhainepost
Fighting
daunt.proboards85.com/index.cgi?board=logs&action=display&thread=11 c:
Hunting
It was a clear night – the swath of darkness across the horizon was brushed with a shimmering veil of celestial lights, dancing about the moon as if it were a the tip of a maypole. Such a beautiful example of a summer night – so rich, and full of life.
Kaledrin crouched where he had been standing, cursing his supposedly killer instincts. Had he really been so distracted by his thoughts? Snowy-hued form crouched, doing his best to sink into the entangling foliage and the shadows of the woods. Damn. His target right now was a small clutch of deer, perhaps a small herd or stragglers from a bigger one. His blood was beginning to pump with the rising ecstasy of bloodlust, and it was all he could do to keep from just pouncing out there and going nuts on the lot. But fortunately, he wasn’t an idiot. An entire idiot.
Limbs folded just an inch more, rendering the bastard invisible to the animals he was downwind from. More good luck. The animals were in a fairly open area, cleared of all but wildflowers and small bushels of brush, but they were situated very close to a copse he could access if he was nice and quiet. Awesome. So the bastard went about weaving his fluid body throughout the more clear areas of the foliage, his bulk calling for a little bit of room for good sneaking. It didn’t take too long to reach his prized spot – but damn, his patience was short. He crouched, belly snaking to the ground, then got close enough for dinner to hear him. Just when they froze, wondering if that scent was danger or not, he pounced. Of course, they had moved into action before he had, and scattered – their instincts were better than his tonight. Driven by his madly racing heart, he pushed forwards, eating up the distance between himself and his prize – a doe in full health. Egomaniac, wasn’t he? But he was fresh, and she didn’t look as if she was.
So the battle of the fancy footwork began. She tried to outrun him, pivoting, leaping, engaging him in a tango of the wilds – but tonight, she would be outdanced. The doe faltered, for a mere hint of a second, and her predator took that opportunity. A final lunge earned from him a delicious treat. He got high enough to sink the talons of his foreclaws into her shoulder and drag her to the ground on top of him. Oof. That would hurt later – but for now he was too high on the kill to even think about the tender bruises already forming. Quick moving got him to wrestle the doe, earning him a position on top of her.
“Hey lover, let me give you a kiss,” cocky bastard sunk his teeth straight into her neck, pressing down with dangerous bite force. The blood immediately spurted, coating his mouth slick with the red stuff. Oh, now this was heaven. She was still struggling, but losing life fast. Time to make this quick. Talons manoeuvred until they were just above her backbone, then they slipped into her flesh and the grizzly work began. They tore that spine right apart, as the struggling creature stopped her struggling.
Bachelor’s bloodied muzzle tipped upward, and sang out to family nearby. Dinnertime, dearlings, so come and get it.
