Name: Frostbite Meaning:English | Injury to the body due to exposure to extreme cold | Tribe:Earth (believes he's an Ice B'alam) Kingdom/Colony:N/A Relationship Status:Single Personality:
Basic Quiz || xxx→ Your SN || Teigra xxx→ Who is The Grand Weaver? The deity of the B'alam, responsible for creating all B'alam and granting life to carved idols. xxx→ Why aren't the parents stopping this?! The cubs don't have any parents. xxx→ Can B'alam have flings to make cubs? No. xxx→ Why did sunlight make the spider-back boy blind? He is a Dark Tribe B'alam, and they normally live their life in the shadows, due to their sensitivity to light.
Your Entry || xxx→ B'alam you are entering for || "Dry Ice" xxx→ B'alam's name || Frostbite xxx→ Reason for this name || Portrayed as a member of the Ice Tribe, Frostbite clearly needed a fitting name. And he must be an Ice Tribe B'alam, because that's what Mistress told him he was. And though he once had thought he remembered otherwise, clearly that had all been a figment of a dream. No, nothing had happened to his tail since he got here. Oh no. Mistress said that he was a failure of the Weaver. That's why he was an Ice B'alam who lost his tail to frostbite. Yep. That made the name all the more fitting, right? It was what made him who he was. xxx→ Give a brief backstory as to who this B'alam was before becoming a part, or the mistress, of this show! IC: There was nothing to tell of Frostbite before. Nothing interesting. The cold took his tail before Mistress found him. He wasn't a proper Ice B'alam; he never would have survived out in the world. Better to stay here. Things weren't easy, no, but it was safer than out there. OOC: Though he was woven with an abnormal amount of fluff around his neck, there wasn't much else to the story that rang true. The fuzzy newly-woven cub had been discovered before he could properly get his bearings in the world. The idea to make him look all the more like an Ice Tribe member had been too tempting to resist and his tail had been docked promptly to complete the look. At such a young state, the trauma had made it easy to manipulate the boy's mind into believing that something outside had caused this pain and loss. Confused and disoriented, the boy had clung to the only source of comfort he could find...his new Mistress. xxx→ What kind of plots do you want? Details would depend on how things go with the circus, as I'm not sure if there are any existing sorts of overarching plots in mind for it. The character alone intrigues me. I'd love the chance to play a character so completely twisted and broken by his captors that he views them as saviors instead. No matter how they mistreat him, he still believes this is far better than whatever could lay outside. His mind is twisted and constantly rationalizing to keep himself convinced that his current situation is far better than what it could be. If ever facts are presented or memories struggle to surface that challenge this assertion, he instinctively goes on the defensive, physically and mentally, to block out whatever is challenging his unstable mental 'peace'. xxx→ Give a brief RP post regarding what a typical day is like for this B'alam. Pretend you are starting an RP with one of the others! If you need help, ask one of the staffers. The sharp crack of a whip split the crisp morning air. Hazy drifting dreams were ripped away, the memory fading swiftly as the cub focused on the cold metal bar pressing into his cheekbone. Time to wake up.
Mistress was calling.
Blinking away the bleariness of sleep, the cub sat up and tried to get his paws under him. Mistress didn't like lazy, sluggish cubs. When she called, she expected them to listen. He shook his head to drive away the urge to go back to sleep, sending his wild mane tossing about. When he settled, most of the fur fell into his eyes and he started to brush it back out of sight. He'd started grooming himself before he stopped short. No, that wasn't what She wanted. She wanted a good show...and neat little cubs weren't a good show. He was a damaged Ice B'alam. Not a capable one. Not a composed one. He must look it.
He painstakingly stopped what he was doing and let the fur drop back into his face. With one paw, he began mussing it up further, wherever it had smoothed as he slept. He was wild. Unkempt. A ragged mess. Mistress said so. That's what they all came to see. His shame. His failure as an Ice B'alam.
It was all that made him interesting or gave him worth.
When he felt his fur was mussed 'properly', he rose to his feet. There wasn't time for dawdling. He padded swiftly towards the door of the cage, waiting obediently to be fetched. After all...
...Mistress was calling.
xxx→ Will you RP this B'alam? Yes
Theme Song(s):
RP Log [X] Mother Dearest - [Word Count: 406, so far]
