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 Posted: Fri Jun 17, 2011 4:18 am
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Atajiii~
unpelted version:
SoA's Name: Ataji
Brief Personality:
He's a generally pleasant, if slightly 'off' male. He's nice and kind and really good with cubs - but there's something about him, like you never know quite what he's thinking, or there's something you can't quite place. He tends to make people uneasy, not just because of his coloration. However, an insult to him, or anyone he considers 'family' would spark rage. Whilst he appears calm and pleasant, he is still a Viking, and is happy to fight with anyone who asks, and loves to go a-raiding.
Brief History:
Ataji is a murderer. He is good at fighting, but not in the general RAWR-I-AM-STRONG sense. No. He's tactical, anaylytical, predicting the opponent's move and moving against it. But what's more, he enjoys fighting. And when he hunts he tends to get carried away - he hunts mainly on his own for this reason. If someone were to come across him when hunting, he would likely attack them. However, he has a soft spot for cubs. He will not harm a cub....at least not physically. He'll kill their family and dab blood on them in the shape of a smile, but he will not hurt them.
But why?
When he was little, Ataji was born into a pride that put great emphasis on pale-coloured coats. From the day they were born, he and his twin were looked down upon, hated. They clung to each other for support - his twin was his everything - they hunted together, ate together, shared a den. They weren't mates, they didn't want children or anything together, they simply were extensions of each other. But all the same. The surrounding lions saw it as wrong. Criminal. Disgusting. Two brothers living together? Something had to be wrong. The twins protested of course – but they were monstrosities. Who would listen to them. They went down fighting. Ataji’s twin fell first, and Ataji saw red. The lands sang with blood that day. His brother’s last words to Ataji:
“Keep fighting, brother.”
Ataji took this to the extreme. He fought every lion, cheetah, leopard or wolf who came knocking – and anyone else too. At first he lost. But over time, he got better, and better and better, until he left the lands where his brother fell to explore and find new challenges. But over time, something else nagged at him, niggled him, wearing down his resolve, his want. Was this what his brother really meant? They had been peaceful…before. And this wasn’t helping him move on. His brother would have wanted that….right? And so a new journey began – maybe his brother meant fight for the right thing. He would try that now. But it would be hard, after so long revelling in blood. And sometimes he would lose control….
It was whilst losing control he came across a group of lions from the Myrsky Syntynyt. Drunk with rage, he challenged a Reaver - and won. This only furthered his rage, and he attempted to attack the Captain - who laughed and pinned him, calming him down and explaining what had happened. Curious at the thought of joining a pride, Ataji followed them home - and found a home of his own. He became a dedicated pride-member, doing whatever was neccessary for the pride to thrive. He was an enthusiastic fighter, but also a good pride-member for other reasons - after so long on his own, he managed to pick up bits and pieces of healing also, which made him useful. And unlike some other stormborn, he was analytical, cunning, able to assess a situation well.
The very Captain who had brought him home became a mentor to him, and took his advice on planning raids.
But even planned raids have pitfalls. And even skilled warriors have flaws.
It was on one of these pitfalls, and one of those flaws, that his mentor died,
Flung into a rage he had not seen for a long time, he slaughtered the warriors opposing them. When the last one in that group died, he spoke.
"Animals die, friends die, and I shall die, but one thing never dies, and that is the reputation we leave behind at our death. The Captain...his reputation will live in the iron of our blood forever!"
It was his first raid as a captain, his words inspiring his fellow Reavers to elect him. But it would certainly not be his last. Fiercely loyal to the pride, Ataji will fight for what he percieves to be right - and that is Myrsky Syntynyt.
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Posted: Sat Jun 18, 2011 3:07 pm
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Posted: Sat Jun 18, 2011 3:10 pm
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Pha'Ess
- Suka'Fumo Pride
Pha'ess is most often referred to as sleepy. She is asleep more often than not, and even when awake she retains a half-lidded gaze, as if she wishes to be asleep. If you can put up with her slow thought processes and slightly sleepy demeanor, she is a pleasant femme to be around, and if you talk to her alot, you discover she has a sharp, clever mind behind her sleepy attitude. Relatively middle-aged, Pha'ess is no longer in the peak of her youth, and she knows it. She just wants to enjoy the time she has left, be it months or years, but she will not be afraid to protect the groundlings if threatened.
If asked, Pha'ess doesn't quite remember when she joined the groundlings, or whether she was born there. Mind you, when asked Pha'ess doesn't really care. For as long as she remembers, she says, she just takes naps when she pleases, she can cuddle with any female if she wants to, and if they want to. She is content, plump and lazy, and plans to stay that way. After all, nobody need know of what she really used to do, nobody need know she used to be one of those who protested against the old king, who spirited children into the forest if they were born without purple, who snuck in and out like a shadow, red eyes leaving tales of demons behind her. Nobody need know...because that Pha'ess is buried deep within her. She doesn't need that version of herself anymore. Does she?
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Posted: Sun Jun 19, 2011 4:58 am
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Posted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 4:14 am
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Posted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 4:18 am
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Posted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 4:21 am
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Nul~
- Simbafatuji Pride
b]Name:Nul
Name Meaning: A single word-name, based of the word Null, meaning nothing. Given to him by his mother.
Personality: Nul is a quiet, almost silent lion. He only livens up around cubs. He will do anything to make cubs happy - bring them trinkets, sing to them, show them the most beautiful flowers. He also is a talented healer, and uses his skill with herbs and plants to help anyone who needs it.
Future Simbafutaji Rank: Healer
Background:
CRACK.
The whimpering of a young cub echoed round the stone cavern. A snarl ripped from a throat, but it wasn't his. No, this animal was bigger, stronger....scarier. The cub on the floor was marked with neon patterns, but all the same...the face shapes were the same, that slight kink in the tail. Yes. The attacker was the cub's mother. She was dark, the pitch-dark night embodied in feline form. Most of the time, the coat reflected little of what was within....but this cur's heart was as dark as her fur. She hated him. The brightness was a reminder of what she had lost.
What she would always have lost.
Nul grew up like that. Hiding, scurrying, finding plants that helped stave off the pain, clot the blood, numb the bruises. He never considered himself to be useful. He was Nul - he was nothing.
The day it all changed was when another juvenile wandered in. Small. Weak. Despite Nul's violent repurcussions, or perhaps because of it, Nul was a strong juvenile, abnormally large and tough.
She wasn't. But that didn't matter. It was her personality that was beautiful, like her coat. Both bright, a shining star in the dark of Nul's cave, his life. He hid her. Fed her. Kept her safe. He didn't know his way out of the caves, and his mother was sure to harm her if she saw her coat, even brighter than his own. And one day, Nul laughed.
It was this that doomed him. The laugh, a simple sound, a simple act of pure joy in his life, that is what doomed him. The laugh echoed. And his mother heard. Mother....hardly the term. What mother attacks their child?
What mother tries to kill their own cub?
Stumbling, tripping, aching, pain, blood. Pain. Nul was barely conscious. But more than that. He was lost. He was so lost. Star....his shining star....blanketed out by the night.
And he had tried. He had tried to save her. He had attacked the night, tore it, hurt it. But he was too late. The white fur stained with red and black, the yellow eyes glazed, faded.
Nul swore that night. He swore he would never let anyone hurt again.
but he couldn't do that, not yet. So he sought lions out, lions who knew about herbs and plants, about waters and solutions. And he trained and trained till he knew every trick in the book, and more.
Now all he had to do was find somewhere where he could help someone.
--
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Posted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 5:28 am
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Posted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 5:55 am
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Posted: Tue Jul 05, 2011 3:12 am
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Posted: Fri Jul 08, 2011 10:04 am
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