Post by calder on Jul 8, 2009 1:17:22 GMT -5
NAME
NICKNAMES
DESIRED RANK
AGE
LOOKS
ELEMENT
PERSONALITY
EYES
WINGS
HISTORY
OTHER INFO
MATE
PUPS
ZODIAC SIGN
Reason for Editing: Formatting was off
Faolan
NICKNAMES
None that he feels particularly proud of. Faolan is pronounced “fey-o-lahn”, which when said quickly can sound like “fail-en”. So he was commonly referred to as a “failure” in his youth in various ways (being called failan, failure, etc). More commonly though, his brothers liked to call him Feo, an alternate spelling of the beginning of his name that just so happens to be Spanish for ugly.
He does accept Feo/Fao as a nickname, but it can bring up some bad memories if used improperly.
DESIRED RANK
Being a bit big for his britches, he wants to be an alpha, of course. But a lower rank would be more appropriate for a wolf that isn’t all that sociable.
AGE
Just over a year old
LOOKS
Faolan is known for one major appearance flaw: he appears about twice as old as he really is. Though his body is lean with youth, his legs proportionately a little long and his paws still slightly oversized, his grizzle gray fur tends to throw off observers. His coat is a little on the short side, but it scruffy and unkept, as though it has never been groomed in its life. Twigs, dirt and muck are commonly caught in its thick tresses, only adding to its worn gray appearance, in all honesty. But what really seems to draw the attention of others to Faolan’s age is the bright red, raw fleshy scar tissue that literally cuts his coat apart like the ragged edge of an immortal canyon or a mighty river of blood. Still pulsing with veins and bright from youth, it is clear that they are fresh wounds, only recently healed to the point that they will not break upon simple movement, but they still prove to be a problem for Faolan. The exposed flesh is still tender, the areas swollen and sore, and it pains him to have them touched in any manner less than compassionate, particularly the ones that cross his face and forehead. Long and lightning shaped, this particular set of scars is his trademark, practically disfiguring his face irreparably, a mark of shame from his past. Another scar trails from his left eye and was once blinding but was healed by the magic of a bandanna given to him by a friend from his past that increases his eyesight. He has a few more nicks and scratched scattered about his body, from a combination of failed hunts and fights from his youth. But every scar seems to tell a story such a young wolf should never have to hear.
The scars mar his otherwise flawlessly gray coat, bright against the dark gray/brown hood-like marking that covers his entire head, face and shoulders. The long guard hairs of his shoulders are actually tipped in gray, as is usual for gray wolves, giving it a more grizzled appearance there and disturbing the sea of dark gray that dominates the front of his figure. However, for the most part, his coat is consistently one color, with only vague variations. His pawpads are callous but still plump due to his young age and are dark like the top of his head, contrasting his light tan/white claws. However, the contrast there pales in comparison to the different between his bland, almost aging pelt and his bright, youthful, sun-soaked gaze. Both of his eyes are colored a bright vibrant orange and seem to take on a haunting amount of transparency whenever he uses his powers, as though a storm were traveling through the reaches of his skull just beyond the lens of each eye. Some say, you can see lightning strikes within, but Faolan is notoriously difficult to make eye contact with.
(( As an OOC note for any of the staff members reading this, the bandanna described is intended to be a magical item I noticed was listed in the forum’s accessories shop. I’m confirming that I would like to purchase it, assuming my calculations are correct and my funds are sufficient. ;3 ))
ELEMENT
Time
Faolan was well noted in his previous pack for his extreme skill with using his powers over time to his advantage. Though it requires a bit of concentration on his part, he can do almost anything with it, from using it on himself in order to triple the speed of his movements or using it on his environment to half the speed of everyone else. In truth, the two activities are one in the same. When the rest of the world is slowed down, those involved do not notice. Instead, Faolan simply appears to move faster than them. By contrast, from Faolan’s perspective, everyone else simply appears to be moving in slow motion. Now, he can only slow down time, he cannot stop it completely. Nor can he travel through it or see the future or anything crazy. He can merely change the speed of it whenever his focus cooperates with him. But, as you will find as you move on, his lack of maturity means his focus is not often in his favor.
PERSONALITY
Faolan is a horribly pompous, horribly arrogant, horribly angry wolf. He did have the happiest of childhoods and, since he is still young, all of the negative happenings from yesterday still haunt his mind and ability to socialize. So, rather than run about and make friends, Faolan tends to act as though the rest of the world is a burden to him, often showing little patience with any conversation that bores him. Sometimes, he can be outright rude about it, barking at or even insulting others with a hair trigger temper and an overall nasty disposition. But most of the time, he simply appears bored by conversation, and has been known to fall asleep in the middle of small talk, if not outright walk away.
You see, though he plays it off as though he is “too good” for everyone else, Faolan is simply hyperactive. He has a lot of energy and doing something like sitting around, having a chat, bores the snot out of him. He isn’t really against socialization, but he is against sitting still for too long and his constant desire to move makes him very difficult to keep track of, let alone befriend. Listening seems to be a chore for him. He’d much rather be running, jumping, climbing, exploring, etc. Like an overgrown pup, he has a need to feed his mind and body with new challenges and adventures, checking out new things and finding himself fascinated by things he has not yet seen, heard or smelt before. Older wolves, with stories of battles and life quests and challenges, are the only individuals who can grab over-active Faolan’s attention span, as he lives for that “over-coming adversity” stereotype, where the good guy is always the winner, even if he is the underdog. That is his life’s mantra, right there, and anything that can stroke or feed the active adventurer in him is a good way for Faolan to spend his time.
Headstrong and determined, he can be a powerful ally and a protective friend, with seemingly no fears and even fewer worries or concerns. Like a daredevil, he almost finds joy in throwing caution to the wind, and feeds a seemingly ever-lasting ego by impressing normal wolves with astound feats of agility, speed and sheer guts and bravado. He can be a little arrogant about it, snobbish and almost spoiled like a young brat. Plus, he has very little respect for anyone who has not proven their superiority to him… or even for those who have. He constantly pushes the envelope with superiors and inferiors alike, with a domineering, power-monger sort of attitude and very little compassion for others. But, when push comes to shove, those who befriend him are more likely to survive in battle than those who do not, particularly when a fight allows him to blow off some of his pent up frustrations. He gets frustrated very easily, particularly when something reminds him of his past, so he is quick to anger and even quicker to throw blows. Though his bark is worse than his bite, you still don’t want to be bitten. It’s wise to tread lightly around this one...
EYES
Bright fiery orange, often compared to the light of the sun at high noon. Very vibrant, energetic, almost threatening in the way they are simply filled with this fiery feeling of power and… energy, for lack of a better word. They are rather narrow for a wolf of such young age, but are still slightly oversized, expressing his youth along with an older, colder harshness.
WINGS
None. Though his father and brothers were all winged wolves, so the trait exists in his genes.
HISTORY
Though Faolan’s personality speaks of anything but royalty, he was in fact born in a litter of soon to be kings. His parents were the proud and noble leaders of a race of winged wolves, living high in a far away mountain range. The males of his species were known for their beautiful crests of feathers on top of their heads and their glorious falcon-like wings that could carry them (it is said) to other worlds. They are a noble, peaceful but very stuck up race, treated like divinity among the lesser earthbound wolves living in the valley below. That is because, every time a male turned of age, he would be sent down to the valley wolves to choose a non-winged female to be his mate… Though this was considered an honor upon the family whose daughter was chosen, for the daughter in question, her life was often miserable from then on. These winged mountain wolves were not known for their kindness but for their brutality, especially towards females. They were treated like slaves, to be abused and misused and spat upon as they crawled about on the dirt like bugs. Faolan’s mother, being the alphess of this mighty pack, had life a little better than the average female, but she was still harshly treated by her mate despite that. All he wanted from her was sons. In fact, he had killed two of his mates before her because they failed to produce any male heirs for him.
Fortunately, Faolan was born in a litter of brothers so his mother was ultimately sparred.
Faolan was the youngest and smallest of his litter of 6. His youngest years were spent living in the lap of luxury, the proud prince of a noble, respectable race of wolves, but also the lowest of the lot of them. He had to constantly flounder about in his brother’s shadows, forced to constantly step up to their challenges to avoid being called a coward or a wuss. In defense of his pride, he would do what they asked, faced all their insults and stand in the wake of their mockery without fear, so he would not be picked on for it later. However, because he was smaller, and his pride was always the driving force in these matters, he almost always failed whatever task was put before him, the bar set too high for him by his much larger winged brothers. Often it’d be something simple enough: jump a gorge or scale an obstacle. Something any wolf with wings could do easily but an earthbound one could not. But, for all it’s worth, Faolan beat himself bloody trying to do everything he was expected. He never quit, never truly admitted defeat, even when he was obviously beaten. He cried a lot, the target of everyone’s blame and bullying, but never in a worthless heap or curled in the fetal position. If he ever shed tears, he’d do it while he kept at the task at hand. He was almost obsessed with being… something, anything, but a failure in the eyes of his people.
But, unfortunately, that was not the case. In a world where he was expected to fly without wings, he simply could not fit in. Even though the elders of the pack saw great potential in him due to the fact that he took after his mother’s side of the family, whom all had great powers over time and space. They trained him, honed his skills to a degree unrivaled by others his age, he was still never good enough.
Until he turned 10 months old. At 10 months, the males were sent on their first hunt, after which point they’d be granted the ability to choose their mate and became full members of society. The first hunt was the start of their rite of passage. Unfortunately, this hunt required obtaining human bred sheep. Again, an easy task for a wolf born with the gift of flight: swoop down, grab the sheep and fly away before the humans can load their guns. But, as with all challenges put before him, Faolan simply could not complete this. Even with his powers of time, his fear of failure and sheer desperation caused him to constantly lose his focus, at which point his powers would dissipate and be no more, often resulting in a trip or a fall, which would only slow him down further and/or disorient him. This of course gave the human plenty of time to get his gun ready and Faolan would have to retreat or die. But, as he did with all things in his youth, he never gave in, never ran back to his pack in tears. He fought, all night and into the following day, he battled with that human farmer, trying his best to get a big, fat, pregnant sheep from the center of the herd, only to trip, fall and be shot at.
It wasn’t until the following night that his time ran out and he was called back to his pack in a shame-filled procession. Now missing one eye (shot out by the farmer) and covered in wounds, he was brought before his very own parents, before the entire pack… and was slathered with insults, talk of failure, of insignificance and utter shame. His father was simply horrified to the point of rage that one of his sons would fail to catch a human’s sheep of all things in less than a sun cycle. He felt that it slathered his whole family name, that this one runt’s failure was the bane of his entire existence. He couldn’t die happy because Faolan was not born with wings, because he was not one of them. And for that, he was forcefully thrown from the mountain and the pack by the very wolves he had once called brothers.
Left on the brink of death, he was saved by a valley wolf who stumbled upon him in passing. An older female (the beta specifically), she had pups who were about his age, which caused her motherly instincts to kick in. She dragged him back to her personal den, where he stayed until he was healthy enough to walk again. But his spite bit deeper than the lightning bolt scar that crossed his face from his banishment, and, unable to stand the thought of being kept someplace he knew he did not belong, he left the valley wolves. But, he accepted the she-wolf’s gift before he went: an enchanted bandanna that improves his eyesight and actually completely healed his once blinded eye. She was just concerned for his well-being, something he genuinely appreciates, despite never showing it. She was more of a mother to him in two months than his real mother was his entire life.
He’s been wandering since then, trying to teach himself to hunt and failing at it. But he is hesitant to join another pack. His mind is now convinced that he does not belong… anywhere… or to anyone…
OTHER INFO
Speech color = ff9933
MATE
None
PUPS
None
ZODIAC SIGN
Aries
Reason for Editing: Formatting was off