Post by thift on Mar 28, 2006 20:10:04 GMT -5
---Basic Information---[/u][/color]
Applying Character: Thrift
Character's Age: Two years.
Gender: Female
Mate: None.
Offspring: None.
Description / Personality: Thrift is rather stealthy at times and brutally honest. She enjoys creeping around and being nosy as usual. Even if it doesn't concern her, she'll watch and listen for just about anything, which makes her an adept spy. Though, she doesn't fit the normal stereotype of spies. Most spies are darkly colored and quiet, but she's generally the opposite of that; loud and sticks out like a sore thumb. When she's not spying, she's either reclining around being slothful or goofing off. She's the half serious half playful type, depends on her mood.
History: On her webpage, is uncomplete so far though.
Species: Canis lupus baileyi
Desired rank and reason: Scout or Spy. Scout because Thrift enjoys observing others and taking note of their behavior and words. Spy because she's generally very nosy and tunes in on just about any conversation. Plus, spying is another activity she does during her freetime, might as well make it her duty in a pack.
---Roleplay portion---[/u][/color]
Roleplay samples from past logs:
Weary limbs propelled her elegant frame forth, destination being the patch of carnations plotted together tightly. Each graceful stride executed with little haste, hence her physique was tormented with the horrible plague of fatigue. Frontal footing ceased movement as she stood merely inches above the resting spot. In a lazy manner, she flooped to the cushiony patch, belly connecting to the vegetation and fulcrums sprawling out oddly. She desired nothing else but to relax and dream her weariness away. Heavy eyelids drooped, concealing her vibrant crimson eyes halfway. Caudal curled around her rump, pommelling a few carnations located in the unfortunate spot behind her. Her awareness of her surroundings blurred, thus she drifted away to a deep slumber.
A disgusted expression plastered across her facial area as the male attempted to deliver her affection. What the hell was he thinking? She just encountered the bloak a few moments ago, now he's all "buddy-buddy-I-love-you-" and shit? There's no way in hell she was going to let him get off undisciplined from performing those actions. Instantaneously, librums pulled back, unveiling double rows of piercing dentition. Hackles prickled upwards in a mohawk-like fashion and coursed the pattern along her spinal area. A vicious snarl bellowed from her vocals, keeping a dangerously annoyed tone to it. Bascially, she was trying to portray a "get the fuck away from me" position. This virile was toying with the wrong female, and she was going to make that obvious.
You see a blacklisted wolf approaching and no other fellow packmates are around:--
A higher ranking member verbally threatens you: --
You are in a fight and your end looks hopeless. The only options that are available to you are death or submission. What do you choose?:
The aches and pains thrashing at her figure were becoming too much to bear. The enemy had her throat, and she had positioned herself in a mess. There were only two options: Surrender and face disrespect or die in the battle. The obvious choice was to surrender and be a coward, but life was something she was prepared to cast aside. The clock was ticking down, and the final moment of decision had come. Death was her conclusion. With hatred motivating, a last provoking growl rumbled from her throat entwining with a few last words as well, "Is that all you got?" Patiently, she awaited the quadruped to end the battle once and for all. With a quick snap of her throat, it would be all over, now all he to do was finalize her death.
You haven't ate in days and you're begining to feel fatigue while the alpha feasts on the fresh kill infront of you:
Thrift quaffed down a large supply of saliva, hence the scene of seeing her alphas shred the deer apart was rather agonizing to observe. The constant twinges from hunger annoyed her constantly, and the medication was only a few strides away. Yeeaah, she could calmly and swiftly tread over towards the fresh kill, snag a large chunk of delectable flesh, and fleetly scamper off; she knew better than to execute that, luckily. Like a honorable pack member, she remained in her location, muscles continuing their relaxed state. Eyes examined her surroundings, since her famished mood was demanding attention right away. Desperately, she sought out a diversion, hopefully quieting the growls from her stomach region temporarily.
Applying Character: Thrift
Character's Age: Two years.
Gender: Female
Mate: None.
Offspring: None.
Description / Personality: Thrift is rather stealthy at times and brutally honest. She enjoys creeping around and being nosy as usual. Even if it doesn't concern her, she'll watch and listen for just about anything, which makes her an adept spy. Though, she doesn't fit the normal stereotype of spies. Most spies are darkly colored and quiet, but she's generally the opposite of that; loud and sticks out like a sore thumb. When she's not spying, she's either reclining around being slothful or goofing off. She's the half serious half playful type, depends on her mood.
History: On her webpage, is uncomplete so far though.
Species: Canis lupus baileyi
Desired rank and reason: Scout or Spy. Scout because Thrift enjoys observing others and taking note of their behavior and words. Spy because she's generally very nosy and tunes in on just about any conversation. Plus, spying is another activity she does during her freetime, might as well make it her duty in a pack.
---Roleplay portion---[/u][/color]
Roleplay samples from past logs:
Weary limbs propelled her elegant frame forth, destination being the patch of carnations plotted together tightly. Each graceful stride executed with little haste, hence her physique was tormented with the horrible plague of fatigue. Frontal footing ceased movement as she stood merely inches above the resting spot. In a lazy manner, she flooped to the cushiony patch, belly connecting to the vegetation and fulcrums sprawling out oddly. She desired nothing else but to relax and dream her weariness away. Heavy eyelids drooped, concealing her vibrant crimson eyes halfway. Caudal curled around her rump, pommelling a few carnations located in the unfortunate spot behind her. Her awareness of her surroundings blurred, thus she drifted away to a deep slumber.
A disgusted expression plastered across her facial area as the male attempted to deliver her affection. What the hell was he thinking? She just encountered the bloak a few moments ago, now he's all "buddy-buddy-I-love-you-" and shit? There's no way in hell she was going to let him get off undisciplined from performing those actions. Instantaneously, librums pulled back, unveiling double rows of piercing dentition. Hackles prickled upwards in a mohawk-like fashion and coursed the pattern along her spinal area. A vicious snarl bellowed from her vocals, keeping a dangerously annoyed tone to it. Bascially, she was trying to portray a "get the fuck away from me" position. This virile was toying with the wrong female, and she was going to make that obvious.
You see a blacklisted wolf approaching and no other fellow packmates are around:--
A higher ranking member verbally threatens you: --
You are in a fight and your end looks hopeless. The only options that are available to you are death or submission. What do you choose?:
The aches and pains thrashing at her figure were becoming too much to bear. The enemy had her throat, and she had positioned herself in a mess. There were only two options: Surrender and face disrespect or die in the battle. The obvious choice was to surrender and be a coward, but life was something she was prepared to cast aside. The clock was ticking down, and the final moment of decision had come. Death was her conclusion. With hatred motivating, a last provoking growl rumbled from her throat entwining with a few last words as well, "Is that all you got?" Patiently, she awaited the quadruped to end the battle once and for all. With a quick snap of her throat, it would be all over, now all he to do was finalize her death.
You haven't ate in days and you're begining to feel fatigue while the alpha feasts on the fresh kill infront of you:
Thrift quaffed down a large supply of saliva, hence the scene of seeing her alphas shred the deer apart was rather agonizing to observe. The constant twinges from hunger annoyed her constantly, and the medication was only a few strides away. Yeeaah, she could calmly and swiftly tread over towards the fresh kill, snag a large chunk of delectable flesh, and fleetly scamper off; she knew better than to execute that, luckily. Like a honorable pack member, she remained in her location, muscles continuing their relaxed state. Eyes examined her surroundings, since her famished mood was demanding attention right away. Desperately, she sought out a diversion, hopefully quieting the growls from her stomach region temporarily.
