Post by Kratos on Oct 28, 2016 9:04:02 GMT -6
OOC
Name: Minxy
Years RPing: forever and a day. (that means like 5 or so years)
Slot Used: Slot+eyes+markings purchased. [Let's just say I have a guardian angel]
How You Found Us: with my eyes
General
Name: Kratos
Birthday: 31st October, 2013
Gender: Male
Species: Dire Wolf
Physical
Height: 41" (possibly larger - maybe buying increased size)
Length: 60"
Weight: 174lbs
Coat Color: Black, grey, whites and hints of silver.
Eye Color: Silver
Health Issues: n/a
Other Information: n/a
Mental
Mental Stability: Sane
History:
The birth of Kratos was basically foreshadowing, and his mother knew. With every fibre of her being, she knew the night of his birth meant something. The night had been intensley hot, perhaps nearly unbearbly - but the rain that poured from the heavens was hard to ignore, too. The cave had been dark and stuffy, but Bellona did not falter. She was a fighter to the very end, and perhaps it was a little bittersweet that all but one of her puppies were not. Bellona had birthed 3 puppies, though 2 had their first breath of air, that soon turned into their last. Bellona did not know why what happened, happened - but it did and she early on accepted it.
At her paws lay one pup, he was larger than the rest, wriggling around and finding milk quickly. Bellona, though suffering inside from the loss, wore a proud smile as she watched her only son. She did it alone, from keeping herself and her unborn puppies safe to making sure Kratos once birthed, had a good life. Her mate had been a male of little approval. There were very few Dire wolves on the far side of Anikira, let alone huge packs of them, so Bellona had been betrothed to Lucius from the minute of her birth. He had just not expected a fire cracker of a mate.
Lucius believed that she should be seen and not heard, to sit still and look pretty. He was the provider, protector, the leader. Bellona did not agree. She was fierce and mighty, her temper as short as Lucius' pathetic excuse for Dire teeth. Bellona grew to be beautiful, but intimidating. You would see blood on her face more often than not, but it was haunting. A haunting beauty that would make one gulp and shuffle on their paws but desire to be close, still. Bellona stood up against injustice and her snarls could be heard in the pack meetings when Lucius was being a dictator and unfair. How could he treat his Pack so poorly? And for hers to be lumped in with his horrors because of a union? She would not have it.
The wolves of her parents' pack deserved more, and so did the majority of Lucius'. So Bellona planned and she planned; she planned from the day he had struck down a pup that was just 3 months old. Bellona's fury on that day had been brutal. Lucius and Bellona had engaged in a fight, the sounds that left either wolf seemed to stick with the wolves for days after witnessing the beginning of the end. Lucius hadn't expected it, but he should have. He had always tried to tear her down and blow out her flame. He wanted to shape her into the quiet little mouse he had thought he was getting from the union. But he was wrong. The minute she sunk her teeth into the side of his face, Lucius knew.
He knew that he hadn't got what he had hoped for, thought for. In his mouse's place, stood a wolf. And he had been daft for underestimating her. So Lucius had stepped aside, and told her they should aim for a common goal: an heir. Once they had an heir, their union could not be broken or questioned, but after that they would have no need to spend more time together than needed. Bellona had agreed, though secretly, she planned. She had fallen pregnant, and Lucius had supposed it would tame her somewhat, keep her subdued for the whelps in her belly. Being pregnant had done the opposite. It had flared her up, her blood pulsating through her veins in a rush of hot liquid.
Lucius grated even more on her nerves with each passing second. She watched as he belittled those around him and used his title as a freebie pass. Bellona wanted his downfall to come sooner than later, and she had planned it just right. On the night of her birthing, there had been a set up. Lucius more than anything, wanted an heir to secure his reign over the two packs and so that he could not be challenged. So when the whispers got to him that Bellona had been attacked and killed, the whelps along with her - he had sprung furiously into action in the apparent place of her ambush. Only for it to be his own ambush.
In the cave lay Bellona, pushing her pups from her body as she listened to the cries in the distance: ding dong, the king was dead. A false King would not be mourned in those lands. Bellona had rallied a selective few that wanted Lucius gone and to have their packs in a happy atmosphere again, and so they had no worries about eliminating the threat. It was kill, or be killed. And none of them were risking the lives of their loves ones any longer. He had been ambushed by 6 Direwolves, but the thing that had hurt him the most? He watched his own sister, a female, deliver the killing hit. Lucius had killed her pups, her own brother, be it a lying accident or not, Corona could not condone it. He had not been made, he had been born like he was.
Corona had not wept over the loss of Lucius, but she once wept over what could have been. Bellona became the sole leader of the joint packs, and there had been no complaints. Her son, their future. Kratos from the start had exeeded expectations. He had been so far from his father, that Bellona could have cried with joy. He was everything she had ever wanted. Through the months, it became clear that Kratos was a dominating presence. He grew and he grew, but so did his personality. He learned from whispers about the type of wolf his father had been, and it had burned him to his core. Kratos had promised himself and his mother he would not become Lucius, and to this very day, he kept his promises.
His mother had found a true mate, a male that sought to make her flame brighter as opposed to blow it out, and from it - Kratos gained 3 siblings. 2 sisters and 1 brother. He was a protective older brother, but he always told his siblings that they could be whatever they wanted to be. They would grow up and be strong and live to their dreams. To his sisters, he whispered words of encouragement; to never let someone put them down, to stand tall and strong and to never stop fighting. (He wanted to fight their battles for them, and sometimes, he did, but other times he built them up to fight for themselves. To show their opposer just who they were messing with.)
It had hurt him, to leave, but Kratos knew he had to see more of the world. Bellona had looked at him upon his news, and for a moment, her lip had curled and Kratos worried, but he kept his chin high and his eyes on his mothers, and she had let a smile creep up on her features. She was proud. And she loved him, oh how she loved him - he was her first born, her survivor, her strength and her might. He had left to the distraught but affectionate faces of his family, and Kratos walked across Anikira leaving his mark wherever he went.
Personality:
"KRATOS (Cratus) was the god or personified spirit (daimon) of strength, might, power and sovereign rule"
Observant: Kratos is quick to notice even but a slight change in situations, others, the air - it's almost uncanny how he does it. It makes his focus sharp and his eyes like a hawks, though he doesn't technically always do it on purpose. Kratos finds it comes naturally to him, which is helpful when he's in battle for his attention is always focused and attentive, making him - along with his size and his muscle, a fierce opponent to fight against or overpower. He can often look for ones weakness because before you know it, his observant eyes have taken in every detail and his brain is connecting the dots.
Dedicated: Once Kratos has found something with a purpose to devote himself to, he's firm and committed to it regardless of the obstacles that lay in his path. Be it another wolf( or wolves ) or land, or situation, it doesn't matter which. Once it's captured his daring heart, he'll see it through to the end. Not only in that sense, but once you've got Kratos' dedication, there's very little that can waver his mighty force of stubborn devotion. He's firm in his beliefs, and he's a fierce force should someone try to get in the way of his purpose, or just his way (and his closest creatures) in general.
Passionate: When Kratos feels, he feels hard and strongly. It consumes him, and in turn, he consumes the things he's passionate about. It isn't to say that Kratos would be unfair or harsh, no - it's like a flame being ignited for the first time and nothing can blow it out. It stands strong and vibrant, never dying. Perhaps Kratos can be seen as rather intense and electric, his love becoming magnetic and uncontained. It wouldn't be easy, not really, but it would take a lot regardless - to be able to even begin to understand Kratos' passion.
Domineering: Due to his size, appearance and his tendency to be quite gruff, Kratos is often seen as rather intimidating. Should something displease him, it can be quite regular that Kratos can be draconian. It's not always that he realises he's doing it, but other times, he feels as if tough love can be the best love to give. People and things do not govern his life, and with all these tendencies, it makes him quite
Master communicator: He can often thrive off meeting new creatures because it gives Kratos the opportunity to exercise his communication skills and expand on his witty sense of humour. Though he is often his own kind of nice to those around him, perhaps even those that he doesn't really think are on his level. His oozing aura and his deep voice tend to enable him to control the conversation or the surrounding area, taking charge and going in the direction he wishes to go in, should he desire it. However in some situations, Kratos likes to be kept on his toes - whilst also perhaps being kept on his.
Though Kratos, for all his traits, is a good man. When he takes control, it's usually in a calm, intelligent manner that can completely contrast against the vibrant, dominating anger he can ooze when he's pushed too far. He only divulges what is necessary, nothing more - for the air of mystery around him can be delicious. Until he divulges more than that, when he feels as if he can let his heart decide, and not his brain. He's a wolf that feels like he has to be the protector, but he's also very appreciative of those that fight to protect themselves. If he sees a strong wolf infront of him, he'll do everything in his power to help them keep it. It stems from his mother, his idol. She was a fierce warrior and stood up against higher powers when injustice was served. Growing up around her and being taught by her allowed Kratos to appreciate those around him for what they stood up for: justice, protection, happiness, their life, fairness.. if it was for a good cause, Kratos would back them all the way.
Strength and might are things important to Kratos, both in body and in mind. There's rare times where he let's the iron forts around his heart to collapse in on themselves and his heart and soul are bared to the selective few. For Kratos cannot let someone see him in a weakened state, he has a reputation to uphold and uphold it he will, to the best of his ability.
Though like with everyone, Kratos has flaws. He is a Warrior to boot, and with fighting, comes killing. He is no stranger to the woes of battle, and whilst it can weigh on his heart, Kratos is not stupid. Things have to happen, and they do. Sometimes in this world, it's kill or be killed, and Kratos is not about to be killed. His morals can often sometimes be disagreed with, but Kratos does as he does, and not what others do. He can be horribly protective, or perhaps the better word to use would be territorial, of those he loves or things that are his. A complex being with a complex heart and expressive eyes, what's not to love about the gruff boy?
“Anger has its place, but it will not serve you here, the way of the
warrior is the way of knowing. Of that knowledge requires you to use
anger, then you use anger, but you cannot wrest forth knowledge by
losing your temper.”
Image:
Name: Minxy
Years RPing: forever and a day. (that means like 5 or so years)
Slot Used: Slot+eyes+markings purchased. [Let's just say I have a guardian angel]
How You Found Us: with my eyes
General
Name: Kratos
Birthday: 31st October, 2013
Gender: Male
Species: Dire Wolf
Physical
Height: 41" (possibly larger - maybe buying increased size)
Length: 60"
Weight: 174lbs
Coat Color: Black, grey, whites and hints of silver.
Eye Color: Silver
Health Issues: n/a
Other Information: n/a
Mental
Mental Stability: Sane
History:
The birth of Kratos was basically foreshadowing, and his mother knew. With every fibre of her being, she knew the night of his birth meant something. The night had been intensley hot, perhaps nearly unbearbly - but the rain that poured from the heavens was hard to ignore, too. The cave had been dark and stuffy, but Bellona did not falter. She was a fighter to the very end, and perhaps it was a little bittersweet that all but one of her puppies were not. Bellona had birthed 3 puppies, though 2 had their first breath of air, that soon turned into their last. Bellona did not know why what happened, happened - but it did and she early on accepted it.
At her paws lay one pup, he was larger than the rest, wriggling around and finding milk quickly. Bellona, though suffering inside from the loss, wore a proud smile as she watched her only son. She did it alone, from keeping herself and her unborn puppies safe to making sure Kratos once birthed, had a good life. Her mate had been a male of little approval. There were very few Dire wolves on the far side of Anikira, let alone huge packs of them, so Bellona had been betrothed to Lucius from the minute of her birth. He had just not expected a fire cracker of a mate.
Lucius believed that she should be seen and not heard, to sit still and look pretty. He was the provider, protector, the leader. Bellona did not agree. She was fierce and mighty, her temper as short as Lucius' pathetic excuse for Dire teeth. Bellona grew to be beautiful, but intimidating. You would see blood on her face more often than not, but it was haunting. A haunting beauty that would make one gulp and shuffle on their paws but desire to be close, still. Bellona stood up against injustice and her snarls could be heard in the pack meetings when Lucius was being a dictator and unfair. How could he treat his Pack so poorly? And for hers to be lumped in with his horrors because of a union? She would not have it.
The wolves of her parents' pack deserved more, and so did the majority of Lucius'. So Bellona planned and she planned; she planned from the day he had struck down a pup that was just 3 months old. Bellona's fury on that day had been brutal. Lucius and Bellona had engaged in a fight, the sounds that left either wolf seemed to stick with the wolves for days after witnessing the beginning of the end. Lucius hadn't expected it, but he should have. He had always tried to tear her down and blow out her flame. He wanted to shape her into the quiet little mouse he had thought he was getting from the union. But he was wrong. The minute she sunk her teeth into the side of his face, Lucius knew.
He knew that he hadn't got what he had hoped for, thought for. In his mouse's place, stood a wolf. And he had been daft for underestimating her. So Lucius had stepped aside, and told her they should aim for a common goal: an heir. Once they had an heir, their union could not be broken or questioned, but after that they would have no need to spend more time together than needed. Bellona had agreed, though secretly, she planned. She had fallen pregnant, and Lucius had supposed it would tame her somewhat, keep her subdued for the whelps in her belly. Being pregnant had done the opposite. It had flared her up, her blood pulsating through her veins in a rush of hot liquid.
Lucius grated even more on her nerves with each passing second. She watched as he belittled those around him and used his title as a freebie pass. Bellona wanted his downfall to come sooner than later, and she had planned it just right. On the night of her birthing, there had been a set up. Lucius more than anything, wanted an heir to secure his reign over the two packs and so that he could not be challenged. So when the whispers got to him that Bellona had been attacked and killed, the whelps along with her - he had sprung furiously into action in the apparent place of her ambush. Only for it to be his own ambush.
In the cave lay Bellona, pushing her pups from her body as she listened to the cries in the distance: ding dong, the king was dead. A false King would not be mourned in those lands. Bellona had rallied a selective few that wanted Lucius gone and to have their packs in a happy atmosphere again, and so they had no worries about eliminating the threat. It was kill, or be killed. And none of them were risking the lives of their loves ones any longer. He had been ambushed by 6 Direwolves, but the thing that had hurt him the most? He watched his own sister, a female, deliver the killing hit. Lucius had killed her pups, her own brother, be it a lying accident or not, Corona could not condone it. He had not been made, he had been born like he was.
Corona had not wept over the loss of Lucius, but she once wept over what could have been. Bellona became the sole leader of the joint packs, and there had been no complaints. Her son, their future. Kratos from the start had exeeded expectations. He had been so far from his father, that Bellona could have cried with joy. He was everything she had ever wanted. Through the months, it became clear that Kratos was a dominating presence. He grew and he grew, but so did his personality. He learned from whispers about the type of wolf his father had been, and it had burned him to his core. Kratos had promised himself and his mother he would not become Lucius, and to this very day, he kept his promises.
His mother had found a true mate, a male that sought to make her flame brighter as opposed to blow it out, and from it - Kratos gained 3 siblings. 2 sisters and 1 brother. He was a protective older brother, but he always told his siblings that they could be whatever they wanted to be. They would grow up and be strong and live to their dreams. To his sisters, he whispered words of encouragement; to never let someone put them down, to stand tall and strong and to never stop fighting. (He wanted to fight their battles for them, and sometimes, he did, but other times he built them up to fight for themselves. To show their opposer just who they were messing with.)
It had hurt him, to leave, but Kratos knew he had to see more of the world. Bellona had looked at him upon his news, and for a moment, her lip had curled and Kratos worried, but he kept his chin high and his eyes on his mothers, and she had let a smile creep up on her features. She was proud. And she loved him, oh how she loved him - he was her first born, her survivor, her strength and her might. He had left to the distraught but affectionate faces of his family, and Kratos walked across Anikira leaving his mark wherever he went.
Personality:
"KRATOS (Cratus) was the god or personified spirit (daimon) of strength, might, power and sovereign rule"
Observant: Kratos is quick to notice even but a slight change in situations, others, the air - it's almost uncanny how he does it. It makes his focus sharp and his eyes like a hawks, though he doesn't technically always do it on purpose. Kratos finds it comes naturally to him, which is helpful when he's in battle for his attention is always focused and attentive, making him - along with his size and his muscle, a fierce opponent to fight against or overpower. He can often look for ones weakness because before you know it, his observant eyes have taken in every detail and his brain is connecting the dots.
Dedicated: Once Kratos has found something with a purpose to devote himself to, he's firm and committed to it regardless of the obstacles that lay in his path. Be it another wolf( or wolves ) or land, or situation, it doesn't matter which. Once it's captured his daring heart, he'll see it through to the end. Not only in that sense, but once you've got Kratos' dedication, there's very little that can waver his mighty force of stubborn devotion. He's firm in his beliefs, and he's a fierce force should someone try to get in the way of his purpose, or just his way (and his closest creatures) in general.
Passionate: When Kratos feels, he feels hard and strongly. It consumes him, and in turn, he consumes the things he's passionate about. It isn't to say that Kratos would be unfair or harsh, no - it's like a flame being ignited for the first time and nothing can blow it out. It stands strong and vibrant, never dying. Perhaps Kratos can be seen as rather intense and electric, his love becoming magnetic and uncontained. It wouldn't be easy, not really, but it would take a lot regardless - to be able to even begin to understand Kratos' passion.
Domineering: Due to his size, appearance and his tendency to be quite gruff, Kratos is often seen as rather intimidating. Should something displease him, it can be quite regular that Kratos can be draconian. It's not always that he realises he's doing it, but other times, he feels as if tough love can be the best love to give. People and things do not govern his life, and with all these tendencies, it makes him quite
Master communicator: He can often thrive off meeting new creatures because it gives Kratos the opportunity to exercise his communication skills and expand on his witty sense of humour. Though he is often his own kind of nice to those around him, perhaps even those that he doesn't really think are on his level. His oozing aura and his deep voice tend to enable him to control the conversation or the surrounding area, taking charge and going in the direction he wishes to go in, should he desire it. However in some situations, Kratos likes to be kept on his toes - whilst also perhaps being kept on his.
Though Kratos, for all his traits, is a good man. When he takes control, it's usually in a calm, intelligent manner that can completely contrast against the vibrant, dominating anger he can ooze when he's pushed too far. He only divulges what is necessary, nothing more - for the air of mystery around him can be delicious. Until he divulges more than that, when he feels as if he can let his heart decide, and not his brain. He's a wolf that feels like he has to be the protector, but he's also very appreciative of those that fight to protect themselves. If he sees a strong wolf infront of him, he'll do everything in his power to help them keep it. It stems from his mother, his idol. She was a fierce warrior and stood up against higher powers when injustice was served. Growing up around her and being taught by her allowed Kratos to appreciate those around him for what they stood up for: justice, protection, happiness, their life, fairness.. if it was for a good cause, Kratos would back them all the way.
Strength and might are things important to Kratos, both in body and in mind. There's rare times where he let's the iron forts around his heart to collapse in on themselves and his heart and soul are bared to the selective few. For Kratos cannot let someone see him in a weakened state, he has a reputation to uphold and uphold it he will, to the best of his ability.
Though like with everyone, Kratos has flaws. He is a Warrior to boot, and with fighting, comes killing. He is no stranger to the woes of battle, and whilst it can weigh on his heart, Kratos is not stupid. Things have to happen, and they do. Sometimes in this world, it's kill or be killed, and Kratos is not about to be killed. His morals can often sometimes be disagreed with, but Kratos does as he does, and not what others do. He can be horribly protective, or perhaps the better word to use would be territorial, of those he loves or things that are his. A complex being with a complex heart and expressive eyes, what's not to love about the gruff boy?
“Anger has its place, but it will not serve you here, the way of the
warrior is the way of knowing. Of that knowledge requires you to use
anger, then you use anger, but you cannot wrest forth knowledge by
losing your temper.”
Image:
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