Post by ˟ PunkWolf on Dec 17, 2007 4:32:33 GMT -5
NAME:
Baztek
Gender:
Male
Pack:
Loner
DESIRED RANK:
none
AGE:
He’s long lost count of the number of damned years he has walked the mortal realm. And as long as the black heart of his keeps him alive against his will, he’ll walk many more as an immortal.
HISTORY:
Ages ago, in lands isolated from any mystical or magical touch that becomes the lands of Aleyn, Baztek ruled a pack that was his family. He attained his position, not through a bloodied battle with the claim of alpha as the prize, but through simple inheritance. As his father before him passed with old age, Baztek was named as the successor. None held any objections, the young brute was well know, and even better liked by all. His intelligence was matched only by his kindness and concern. Beneath his rule the pack and their lands flourished like none had ever seen before.
And with his new position, many young females swooned and fawned for him, courting and teasing the handsome, new alpha. But Baztek had only eyes for one fae. She was smart and cunning, the very breath of independence and spirit to him. He looked to her as the very embodiment of the life that he could bring to his lands. And though other females would jump at the chance to be the one of his affection, she was not to be played with. Baztek worked to win her over harder than he would ever work for the life of any land. The day she fell for him, was the happiest day of his entire life; until his pups were born, of course.
And even with the toil of starting a new family, Baztek was exceeding any high expectations of him that had been set in the opinions of others. He brilliantly retained the balance within his lands so, though hunting may have been limited, prey prospered beyond any previously conceived notion, and it wasn’t long before the pack began expanding their borders to bring about the new era of life upon the surrounding lands. But with the life of one pack, came the death of others. Baztek never would be one to tolerate violence, but surrounding packs that did not merge with his own became threats to his growing family, and were forced to be run off, beyond his borders. Surprisingly, many opposing alphas refused to share with Baztek’s prosperity, especially if it meant giving up their own rule. And though many contempt packs attempted to raid and take his land, Baztek was not one to be taken lightly. And though his military intelligence was unmatched, never once did he spill blood of an attacker. And even though he knew his attackers’ views were not the same, and that they would gladly take his life from him without a second thought, he saw life as the most precious thing of all, and it was up to no mortal to take it away from another. Baztek swore upon his life that he would never take heaven’s gift away from any.
Jealously, a rancid breeding ground for violence, soon brought the run-off packs together. And though Baztek’s military tactics had never before been matched, strategy (no matter how cunning) is no match for sheer numbers. Baztek’s worst fears were forced upon him as he realized that there was nothing short of heaven or hell that could save his family. Defeat and death being an inevitability, Baztek ordered a retreat. Many of his pack stayed, refusing to let their leader’s lifetime work go to waste. They fought and died for their alpha as he turned tail.
Baztek and his love struggled to keep up with the few others who had agreed to flee with them. Their young pups had yet to grow into their adult legs, and there were not enough mouths to carry them all. Sadly, their efforts were not enough, and the assailants were quick to catch them. Baztek fought like he had never fought before, he had tasted blood like he never had before, exerting every last bit of strength that remained within his being…it was not enough. It took some time, even with their numbers, for the assailants to subdue him. As he lay dying, Baztek’s last vision was a blurry image of an attacker plucking one of his pups from the ground, and as he closed his eyes he could hear his child’s scream.
Darkness surrounded him. The end had become him. He could feel nothing, see nothing. It was death, and it smothered him. He struggled to breathe, panicked to taste the sweet air of life, but he could not remember how. He was living with chocking darkness, and dying with his horrifying last vision of life. Time meant nothing were he was, what could possibly be only a fraction of a second felt like a millennia; and what could be a millennia felt like mere seconds. Baztek, trapped and alone in darkness for an eternity knew only regret and loathing for himself. His life now taken from him, he swore upon his very soul that if life ever presented itself to him he would alter his previous ways, and slaughter every single damned intruder upon his lands.
A presence came to him from the darkness, and gave him his wish in exchange for his soul. Baztek accepted with no second thought, it was a chance to save his family. The world of pure nothingness became a world of pure pain as his soul was ripped from his very being. In an existence where time meant nothing, Baztek spent a millennia feeling the very essence of who he was rip slowly from him. As the deed was finished the presence from before snaked into his chest and became his heart. And as his new heart drummed its first beat, Baztek’s choking ceased, and he gasped life into his lungs once again. His being rushed back into the mortal world like a storm’s violent wind and entered his limp body with a sickening hiss. Though he had spent eternity in the void of the dead, time seemed not to have changed within the world of the living. All eyes turned to the ‘dead’ alpha he picked his bloodied form slowly off the ground. Baztek’s love, the mother of his pups, couldn’t hold back a gasp of relief seeing that her mate still lived. But her cry of happiness soon turned into screams of terror.
The assailants, who had assumed him dead, turned their dripping maws from his pups and to the alpha. The ground was soon a mucky slop from the amount of blood spilt. Baztek had awoken from death in a blood rage, and only the blood of the enemies could satisfy his new heart’s hunger. His eyes, no longer a golden amber, were clouded with blackness, the very coloration of the void from which he had escaped. Baztek felt tens of wolves lives end between his maddened jaws. He tasted the blood of countless lives upon his lips, and heard many of the sudden rushes of air that was mortals’ last breath. The horrifying slaughter lasted only minutes, and what remained of Baztek’s attackers either lay in red pools on the ground or was fleeing far into the distance. But though his wish granted, his love and pups now safe…the thirst for death and sorrow was still strong within his new heart. The blind blood rage that had rescued his family…was now turned against them.
He awoke from his blood rage, haunted by the sick evidence that lay at his feet. Though he did not control his actions, and had no say what crimes his body committed within his blood rage…he could remember every moment of it. He remembered the taste of his enemies upon his lips…as well as the taste of his children…and the taste of his love. And now, awakened from his possessed state, all Baztek wished to do was mourn; to mourn the loss of his lands, and the loss of his pack. He wished nothing more than to swim in his guilt and regret for what he had brought upon himself and upon…her. But even with the pure anguish of his deed…Baztek felt nothing. He shed no tears and felt no sorrow. His brow did not even curve into a sad arch or wrinkle with hate or anger for himself. And he realized that with the sacrifice of his soul, he had given up everything; even the very things he had yearned to protect. He could feel nothing; no anger, no sorrow, no pain or joy. He was empty.
PERSONALITY:
Baztek feels nothing. His heart is a void within himself, its only purpose to beat so that he lives. Within his mind there are no feelings, none even buried behind his horrid deeds and memories. Do not bother befriending him, for he can feel nothing for you. His personality is a dark secret, a mystery, for he seems not to have one. The line between right and wrong is still clear to him, but that does not mean he feels limited by morals anymore. He can feel no hurt, regret, or fear; ultimately he has nothing to loose. But though he could butcher your pups and leave you stranded in this lonely world without a second thought, but that does not mean that he would. Who he was before may only be memories for him to cling to, but that is exactly what keeps him ‘in line’. Knowing who he was, and knowing what used to hold value to him is the only wall he has to hold back his damned heart from drawing him into an endless blood rage. Though it may seem he feels empathy for you, or even may care, it is only a reflection of distant memory; in the end he feels nothing for anything. Some memories prove to be more powerful than others, and the reflections of such emotions can prove dangerous. Anger and hate being the most deadly. When the faint remembrance of these feelings surfaces, instead of holding back his demonic heart…it draws it out.
POWERS:
Possession~
~within his heart lies a darkness that is only kept back by what Baztek believes and sees as the ‘right and wrong’ in this world. Because emotions are what fuel it and cause it to enter his mind, Baztek kept himself void of such things. And slowly, the darkness devoured any emotions, and now controls them. Though Baztek still has a sliver of grip upon them, he cannot feel, he can only know. And what the darkness influences most is any remembrance or notion of anger and hate, and if Baztek succumbs to these manipulations, he looses control. Because the demonic presence within his heart controls him within certain limits, Baztek cannot end his life willingly or control what he speaks or does at times. A full one-hundred percent of his living effort is devoted to suppressing the damned power within him but at times he can slip which results in the demon, ‘coming out’. While in his possessed state Baztek’s body feels no pain and has no weakness. Attempting to strike him down is only a waste of your own effort for any wound inflicted upon him has no affect. In extreme cases, where Baztek looses complete control, the line between right and wrong disappears, and his blood rage will consume any it can reach.
LOOKS:
Unlike many of the other canines of this realm, Baztek owns no brilliant coloration, or tattoos of the fur. He has no jewels or decorations upon his maw, ears or any other features. A simple white coat is all he wears, no streaks of gold and marks of blue to grace him. A white brute is all he is, his fur is not even uniquely soft or smooth. In fact, the ends are ragged and torn, and never lay flat. He never bothers to groom himself, it’s merely a point of his personality. The rough fur frays along his cheeks and the base of his ears. And with the naturally longer furs along his neck, it seems as if his mane has a ‘saw-tooth’ shape. Teeth and gums are nothing special, except for the fact that they are unusually clean. Because he only eats to barely keep himself alive and no more, food hardly ever stains his incisors, allowing the natural saliva within his mouth to clean. As well as his appearance, his stature is a general one as well. Being bred male, his shoulders stand higher than typical females, but he is neither excessively tall, nor unusually small. His body build is average, no extensive muscles or strength upon him. He owns no wings, no extra tails or appendages of any sort. No, Baztek is not like the typical wolves that walk the Aleyn plains, not in appearance nor stature. A simple white coat, with average stature is all he is on the outside.
Eyes:
Though his appearance is dull and un-intriguing, his eyes are of a different realm. Eyes: windows to the soul. Baztek has none, sold it for a price not worth paying. In his eyes, there is nothing. They are cold amber in color, golden closest to the pupil with a light dust of brown along the outer edge of their color, but within them there is no light, no life. Looking into them makes one feel empty, completely void of any connection to the mortal world they might have known. The eyes of a corpse.
Genes:
Mother~
~Though she was of an entirely different realm – one of no wolves of the skies, those who commanded elements – she would have been considered an exquisite beauty, even among those with custom pelts that now live in Aelyn. Her fur was of long flowing white, silver dusted at the edges. The sheen of gray was thicker along the aft end of her forelegs and along her mane. She had eyes of brilliant amber, with light emerald green dusting along the edges. Her body was flawless, perfect proportion to itself, not even a claw out of place. Slender and sleek, she owned agility and speed envied even by the males of the pack. She was a huntress, and a scout before marrying Baztek’s father and taking the position of Alphess. Baztek, as a young child, as a normal living, breathing, feeling wolf, always saw her as an angel.
Father~
~Baztek’s father was of pure white, his form thick and heavy set. Muscles did not bulge, but they were obvious below his tight pelt. Taunt and corded from extensive training and conditioning. His father was a warrior before the title of Alpha was passed to him by his own father – part of the pack’s prime elite. He had never seen any battles, so no scars blemished his form. His eyes were exquisite, rare amongst his kind. Intimate summer brown, as deep and pure as the bark on a sapling tree. They always held such life, such light within them.
Zodiac:
Scorpio
Reason for Editing: revamping