It aint the fall that gets ya!...(ON HOLD)

[spirit_of_the_tiger]

Name :: What now?
Nickname :: Pagan
Age :: Ask me that again, and I'll kill you.
Height :: 6"4'
Weight :: (refused to reveal, killed weigh-in people)
Ethinic Group :: Hybrid/Mutant.
Location :: N’hrive Forest.
Interests :: Meditating in the center of pagan pentagrams, drawn on the ground with human males blood or stratched into it with their bones.
Allies :: Tigers, most creatures of the night.
Enemies :: They dont live long enough to be noted.
Comments :: Its not the fall that gets you. Its the sudden stop at the bottom.
Body Type :: Slender, quick muscles, flat stumach and crystal blue eyes. two small black horns and a scruffy tail, topped off with a collar that never comes off.
Personal Skills :: Killing things with extreme ferocity, viscousness, leathality and style. Sarcasm.

Quote:

A few rules that'll save people from getting their asses flamed and/or killed ::
(1) PK-ing (player killing) only if you and your target have agreed to the fight.
(2) No God moding. God i hate people like that.
(3) You MUST post a profile, or your posts may be voided at any time.
(4) Sepperate your speach from your actions.
(5) Para-fighting only, and no "*kills opponant* i win!"
(6) OOC (if you dont know, look it up) speach in ( brackets ) please.
(7) Under no circumstances beg for gaia gold, items, ect.

[spirit_of_the_tiger]

*dawn braught the rank stench of blood thick into the air, the scent of fresh bodies still warm invoking the curiosity of the scavengers. the bodies of several disemboweled Shilo troopers still bleeding. a few yards away, Pagan meditates, his fingers still coated in the blood of the Pentagram drawn on the ground, his two Shivs laying at his sides, his pose in the lotus position*

[spirit_of_the_tiger]

*twitches slightly as a few birds perch on his rock like body, the still, serine calm that takes his breathing to next to nothing continues as his hands slowly reach towards the two Shivs and place them on his knees*