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StellaLuna SkyWind Captain
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 Posted: Sat Aug 11, 2012 1:23 pm
( ☾ ) → N a m e Zahra Rose Delecourt
( ☾ ) → P a c k Cheveyo
( ☾ ) → G e n d e r Female
( ☾ ) → A g e 15
( ☾ ) → R a n k Novice
( ☾ ) → F a m i l y Osiris, my adoptive father.
( ☾ ) → M a t e Not yet, but soon maybe.
( ☾ ) → P u p s Definitely not yet. I like pups, but I don't want any that are my responsibility.
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( ☾ ) → P e r s o n a l i t y
I'm pretty outgoing, and loud, so don't expect me to shut up. I hate being wrong, so I try to always be right. I don't like being rude to people, but don't back me into a corner. I have a mouth on me, but why cuss when it's not going to get you anywhere? It's not like saying "******** you" is going to make a situation better. It just lights up the other person. I'm dedicated to my training. Don't try to mess me up, or sabotage me. You'll really regret it. I'm a better friend then an enemy, so let's be friends and stay that way. I suppose I know how to hold a grudge, but I'd rather just get our difference in opinion out of the way, otherwise I'll sit and brood over it, and most likely just stay pissy. On the side, I like to think I'm pretty mature. I listen to my superiors fairly well, even if I don't always agree. Once I get a rank in the pack, I'm sure I'll be even more mature and serious about life, but right now, I can still party a little bit. I'm still a teenager without the weight of the world on my shoulders, and I plan on enjoying every moment.
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( ☾ ) → L i k e s
Rain, Running, Books, The ocean, Training, Sweets, Cooking
( ☾ ) → D i s l i k e s
100 Degree weather, Being wrong, Failing, Drugs, The word "b*****d" directed at her, Needles, Eggs
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( ☾ ) → H i s t o r y
I was born to two parents. That's biology. I never really got to know them. I don't think anybody really did. I don't remember my father at all. I don't know if he was a werewolf like me, or if he's just some man who decided to knock up my mom. I wouldn't be surprised either way. In truth, I could care less. My mom, I don't know much about her either. I can't remember her face. Not her eyes or her nose. I can barely remember her lips forming a lullaby that she sang to me when I was an infant. She had brown hair. It was light brown, and loosely hanging around her face. She said she loved me in that memory. Then she set me down, and that's all I remember. It may have been in a basket when I was delivered to the Cheveyo pack, or maybe it was just in my crib and I got to the pack later. I don't really remember much before the time I was four, aside form that one memory of course. I probably remember four, because that's when I clearly remember my first shift, and having to pick a last name for school. I wasn't left with one. Which, I would figure is weird. Everyone has a last name. It would have been on my birth certificate, but I don't know where that is either. Somehow, I just have papers. I'm assuming the alpha's took care of that for me, maybe because they liked me a little bit. More then likely, it was just because I had no one else to speak on my behalf and I was still a minor.
I wasn't necessarily a bad kid, but I had a lot of issues. When you don't have parents, I would assume any kid might have a rough start. The kids teased me at school, calling me a name I hate. "b*****d". I can't stand that word. It makes everything about my life and upbringing a little too real for my tastes. When they would call me that, or make fun of me for it, I would insist I had parents, referring to the alpha's as my parents as I was told I could, but there was always the question of why my last name didn't match up. That led to a few physical fights. I always got in trouble for those, even though I didn't start them. I made sure I finished them. That was probably why I got in so much trouble. I probably hurt those kids bad. I did fight with my fists. I knew the rules about shifting. Which sucked. Because I wouldn't have had to fight if I could just switch into my wolf form, but the rooms were too crowded, and I'm sure I would have gotten more punishment, or been stolen and locked up in some lab or something cruel like that. I don't think that's very enjoyable, and they'd probably poke me with a bunch of needles, which give me anxiety attacks, so, it's probably better that I listen to what I was told about shifting in public places.
When I was nine, we moved to a town called Hale. There was another pack in this town, and obviously everyone is territorial. With territorial werewolves, there is almost always some kind of fight for dominance. Read your stupid, misinformed books. Some of them aren't terribly incorrect. Just the additional powers generally. The behaviors tend to be relatively accurate. Anyways, all out war broke out between the two. It stretched on and on. Boring. Scary. With casualties. Seeing this, I didn't think I wanted to fight. I don't want to be someone who has to kill mercilessly. Four years spanned. Lots of fighting, even if there weren't kills. Lots of arguments. It was rather dreadful. The worst, came at the end of those four years. I was coming to be fourteen. I was only a few weeks away, and the alphas were slaughtered. Their bodies were found, and it was a sad day for everyone. Pepper had to take over, since she was the next in line.
Since then, things haven't been so bad. Hale is a safe place. The packs aren't supposed to fight there. Now that I'm old enough, i'm focusing on training to join the pack ranks. After I finish school, I can go out and get a job. Hopefully it will be a good one. I only have two more years after I finish this year. Then I can go get a job and take a rank in the pack. I do hope I get something good. Even if I become a warrior, I think I'll know how to be reasonable and fair by then. Training will make me that way. I'll become a great pack member, and do whatever I can for the pack. They're all that matter now. I don't care about the parents who abandoned me. I hope I never meet them. They aren't my family.
Osiris, you see, he was a godsend, coming in, and adopting me legally. Then, I could actually say I had a dad. It wasn't just a pity thing where I would call to people who took me in my parents. No. This was a legally binding document that stated who was my father, and who I belonged to. Sure, it expires when I'm eighteen, but I'm pretty sure the bond formed with signing those papers will stay forever.And that's more then I could really ask for. And even though he mated with my best friend, I can still forgive him. Just because it works better for him. He seems a lot happier now, and that's all that I really care about. My pack family is better than anything biological I've ever had,s o that's all that matters.
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( ☾ ) → O t h e r
Wolf Form
Ride when not using legs
Bedroom
✸ Note: Zahra's last name "Delecourt" was invented when she made her home in the Cheveyo pack. Her true last name is unknown. And she wanted to keep it, even though she was adopted.
( ☾ ) → C o n t r o l l e r
Stellaluna Skywind
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Posted: Sat Aug 18, 2012 4:49 pm
( ☾ ) → N a m e Xaviar Ryan
( ☾ ) → P a c k Bane
( ☾ ) → G e n d e r Male
( ☾ ) → A g e Twenty-Six
( ☾ ) → R a n k Iota
( ☾ ) → F a m i l y Xander Ryan, my twin. A Bane Warrior.
( ☾ ) → M a t e Not yet.
( ☾ ) → P u p s I'm the Iota. I have as many as i can get right now. I'm sure if I wanted some more, I could have some, but I like my little ones now.
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( ☾ ) → P e r s o n a l i t y
Flamboyant, is one way to describe me, because I sure as hell am not shy. I might be considered to have dual personalities, because I like to party, but I know how to be responsible in handling my job and the little ones I have to take care of. I know how to party hard, I know how to be confident in myself, but I'm not arrogant, just proud. I like being the way I am, I'm not going to take anyone's s**t. I protect those I care for, I'm fun-loving, easy-going, and I have a particular soft spot for the kiddos. I melt like butter for them when I wouldn't yield to others. I keep happiness in constant ready at my belt, right next to ferocity, and determination.
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( ☾ ) → L i k e s
Music, Pups, My Brother, Val's Accent, Sweets, Spoiling pups
( ☾ ) → D i s l i k e s
Child Abandonment, Drug Users, Child Abuse, Unhappy Kids, Homophobes, Ignorant people
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( ☾ ) → H i s t o r y
Growing up wasn't all sunshine and roses. I was the second boy in a set of twins. My older brother beat me out of the womb by an hour. I don't really think he's that much older, but if calling him the older brother floats his boat, then far be it from me to stop his ego. I'm the younger twin of the bunch. My mother, devoted and dependent on my father worked straight off the bat at making sure we were healthy baby boys. I was told we were the light of her life, but I'm not sure if that was ever the case. See, I don't remember infancy, but from being a toddler, and what I can remember, my mother was a stone cold addict. No question about it. It's a miracle Xynos and I aren't brain dead. I don't know if our Mama ever dropped that crack pipe after we were able to waddle and cry when we needed something. She sure as hell wasn't present whenever my father came home. The worst part about it, was he let her indulge in that s**t without a word about it. I guess I don't have much room to complain. I always had clothes on my back and food in my mouth when I needed it.
If my wandering sexuality was ever a problem, the only one lucid enough to deal with it was my father. And of course, Xynos, because I'll tell you, my brother could be a huge d**k when it came to teasing. Being so close- being twins, he knew exactly what would get to me, and what I would be able to brush off. It was only Xynos that ever really got in deep digs and got away with it. If the other kids picked on me, even as we grew, Xynos had my back, making sure that the kids that made fun of me always paid some sort of price. I knew I was different, that liking boys and girls wasn't exactly something that was terribly common growing up, not as freely accepted as it is now, but still something manageable. It was the one huge difference between myself and my twin. We couldn't' even bridge that gap. There would be understanding, but things wouldn't be exactly the same. It wouldn't be a brotherly exchange that we could share. I would always be the one chasing the boys as much as the girls, even if I couldn't find them, of if they were straight and I chased fruitlessly. Xynos would stick to the ladies, and I would gladly pick up the slack and play both sides. It's just natural to me.
When it came to my eighth year, I watched my mother, addicted past the ability to recognize her family from shadows that only she could see, descend further into her madness. Shakes came if she didn't hit that pipe at least twice a day, and sometimes sneaked in anyways. She used needles too, but always said holding something made the high seem more effective. made it last longer. All it did was make the house smell like hell, and keep my mother occupied on the nothingness inside her mind. The world we could not see. There was no admittance for us. Finally, after watching her descent deeper and deeper, she was gone. Vanished under the weight of her addiction. The correct diagnosis was overdose, of course, but when the paramedics asked if we knew the seller that had supplied her, we had no answers. My father had no answers for the cops, though he had all the answers. He couldn't tell the police who had been the supplier, as it had been he, himself, that had fed my other's habit for years and years. He, who had let her smoke and inject more and more, until her mind had collapsed on itself. Until her frail heart stopped it's ability to beat. But I wasn't overwhelmed with sadness. I didn't think she was ever really a mother worth keeping. What kind of parent abandoned their child plainly, for the choice of a drug or vice, knowing that it would only tear them apart slowly? Surely not one that was worth anything.
It's probably the one thing that made me rank up in the pack. Our family had always resided in Hale. It was the place we belonged. Xynos and I joined the Bane pack, just as we were instructed. The way out father ushered us, made us turn that way, especially after our first shifts, and finding out what we were. Father always had ties to the pack, it's how we developed the curse, but we'd never been huge activists in it. Or at least, I hadn't. I'd kept to myself, dealing with my own internal conflict. When we were old enough to truly matter, that's when things changed. I took my rank as Iota, and it fit me. Perfectly. I would protect all those left behind and abandoned by shitty parents who didn't care enough about them to stand by their side. I would protect the weak, and make sure the strong did not prey on them. I would do whatever it took to give young kids someone to look up to and count on. And I stood, watching my brother, my defender. I cherished him above all else. We were a team and would never stop being one, even if we were different ranks, and different sexualities.
When our father passed on, he left us his drug ring. Now, despite our low key appearance, we're rolling in dough, and keeping crime up to give Adam s**t to do. I don't much care for the drug scene, so I leave it to rest on Xynos' shoulders, but I take of s**t when I need to. I became the big bad wolf, who blew peace and violence from the same pair of lips, and had an amazing Tenor tone. I'm still running the perfect cover, but it's more because it's who I truly am, then using it as a cover. I may be some Drug Lord Prince, but I'm still the caring Iota for the Bane pack, and that's who I'd rather be remembered by if I ever have a chance to write my name in history.
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( ☾ ) → O t h e r
The Bedroom
The Car
The Wolf
Xaviar, is pansexual. He keeps sexuality to himself, because the kids don't need to know that kind of crap. He's a stickler for being age appropriate around the children. He also likes music and tends to move around singing to people when he feels like it.
( ☾ ) → C o n t r o l l e r
Stellaluna Skywind
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StellaLuna SkyWind Captain
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StellaLuna SkyWind Captain
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Posted: Thu Oct 04, 2012 3:38 pm
Stelaluna Skywind ~ Pack Member ~ Pack ~ Wolf ~ Human ~ Posting Samples Bane___________________________________________________________Member N A M E : Ihyllianna Layfayette Dubar
A G E : 21
G E N D E R : Female
M A T E : None at the Moment
F A M I L Y : I have none left.
W O L F : Woof
P U P S : I definitely have none.
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P E R S O N A L I T Y
My optimism is the key to my success, although i will not say that I do not have my individual quirks. My happiness and hope is the key to my living. I like to strike up a conversation with those who will have a talk with me, but I will not tell you that I am prefect at the art of conversation. I am awkward and clumsy. I am odd, my condition as well as my so called "disability" makes me such to other people, but I think I am unique. I'm highly intellectual with an ever present desire for knowledge. I am determined and brave. I am strong, despite the challenges and punishments I have been dealt. I am also extremely creative. I try to be thoughtful and sympathetic as well. Not everyone can share my optimism, but I try to lend a hand and an ear when it is needed or even simply wanted. i am fiercely independent, and hate asking for help, even though I know sometimes it is needed. I am loyal to those that I deem worthy of my time, and I am fiercely trusting. Fool me once, my bad, fool me twice and you're done. No excuses. The first time it was a mistake, the second time it was a choice.
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L I K E S
Coffee, Chocolate, Pups, Music, My Pack, Being treated like a normal person, The smell of Forest, Rain, Storms, Wind chimes, Colors
D I S L I K E S
When People (Dakota) Move the furniture without telling me, People thinking less of me due to my "disability", Being classified as "disabled", Being useless, Asking for help, Being coddled
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B I O G R A P H Y
Being born as the second child to a pair of werewolves was not exactly uncommon if you lived in the town of Hale, was it? Or, is it, rather? There are plenty here. And the cure that we werewolves bear is said to have formed here, was it not? And we werewolves are just like people, having children, homes, and dreams. My parents had one child., they wanted another. One boy, and they yearned for a girl, thus, i was brought into existence to a happy couple who believed in the betterment of the world, and the happiness to bridge all gaps in the dark. My brother, born six years my senior, was a happy child, and happier still to know he had a little sister about him. Someone to teach and nurture into growth. Not to mention my parents were a happy couple and doted upon both of us. My mother, a beautiful feature of flame and alabaster skin. My father was a tanned with dark hair. My brother took after my father, so it made perfect sense that I would take after my mother. After all, we are all created in some form of equality, are we not? I was the female born to event he set. My childhood was grand and filled with love, kindness, and nurturing. I never knew that I was unique. That I was different. I didn't know I had a gift, or an unusual mind set. I didn't know people could not see the fabulous rainbow of colors that came with music as it sounded in my ears. It wasn't until I asked my mother to sing a song in the color of orange that I learned I was different. My diagnosis? Chromesthesia. It meant that when I heard music, depending on the sound or instruments, and involuntary light show went on in my head, making me see colors behind closed lids. Really, it's quite a remarkable gift, even thought it's a rare genetic disorder. I don't think it's anything negative. The light shows I can see are quite remarkable and beautiful in my own humble opinion.
When I turned eleven, I learned of my family's secret. It was a painful lesson, and one that I would never forget. We were not mere humans, as I had been led to believe. We too, were werewolves, with the ability to shift from a human guise into the form of a wolf. It was the most painful experience of my life. I didn't know that shifting a form would hurt so much. It had always seemed so magical in the books I'd read about such things. But it was cruel and harsh on my body. I was coddled, and calmed before I ran in fear from myself, but the betrayal I felt at this secret being held form me was something that I harbored for a length of time. not even my brother, who had been my constant playmate, as I was his shadow, could console me. it was the punishment for the lies. They would soon learn that it had been a poor decisions. Of course, I learned to let such childish things go when I learned of what fun I was permitted to have when O wore my wolf. it outweighed the troubles that came with keeping the secret form others. I was smart, and an outsider already. I would not be the one to betray this secret my family harbored. It was my honor and resolution that kept secrecy clear in my mind always.
Anyways. When I turned seventeen, my brother had come home on holiday. He brought his pregnant fiance with him. The little one was expected in a months time. The perfect little Christmas baby that would be a perfect bundled gift. The table had been cleared from the feast of turkey, and other Thanksgiving goods. The only things remaining after supper and desert were the large pillar candles that stuck gentle flickering flames into the air, casting the walls with an orangish glow. Everyone had retired to the sitting room for the evening, talking of the baby to come, what brother and his fiance were planning for the wedding. Dates, venues, dresses, gowns, guests, themes, the works. Mother was working on an elaborate scheme and trying to talk the pregnant woman into her vision of the perfect spring arrangement. No one thought about the candles that were burning lower upon the tablecloth. No one thought about how quickly the tablecloth might catch fire if the flames didn't drown in the wax from the candles. Everyone was focused on something else. So when the sitting room vacated and everyone went to bed for one reason or another, the candles upon the table were forgotten, and left to their own devices. That was what caused the fire. The candles had burned to stumps then let the fire dump to the tablecloth. That caught quickly, feeding the flames as they ate hungrily as my family had at the feast of what dinner had been. Asleep, no one took note of the sudden heat coming form the lower rooms. The smoke, trapped downstairs went unnoticed as well, as the flames began to consume more of the house.
Screaming was what woke me up. My mother's hoarse voice. Looking around, and taking in the scent of the smoke that blanketed the room, let alone the whole house, I wheezed and hacked, going to the door and threw my door open. My mother, flame haired, never afraid, looked the picture of fright as she looked over the rapidly growing flames. Startled as she was, she urged water from a pail onto some of the flames, but other's took the place of their dulled brethren. There was no sound fro the guest room downstairs, but flames licked up the stair case. The glow from downstairs was bright, and it seemed as though my brother and his fiance were lost to the world. There would be no bundle of joy for Christmas time. perhaps that why my mother was so alarmed. there was no sign of my father, but a fallen support beam on the ground floor may have indicated where he had gone, and why my mother had screamed with such fear and sorrow. I was the only one left for her to see to safety, and we were trapped on the second floor of the house. Flames were licking up the walls, and starting to enclose us. Smoke filled our lungs, noses, and eyes, making fighting back against the flames even harder then it had been moments ago.
My mother and I wheezed our way into oblivion, trying to escape. WE made a break for a clearing of the stairs. The banister crumbled away as my mother reached for it, losing her balance, and tumbling into the pit of flames beneath us. A shower of sparks bloomed into my vision as I reached out for her, trying to pull her back up from the death I knew was beginning to take her. Mercifully, these sparks burned my eyes, and made me screams, as I fought my way through the flames. The ate at my skin, licking my clothes and my hair. My screams nearly drowned out my mothers as she was consumed, but not all. How I escaped, I am not sure. I don't remember getting to a door. I don't remember getting away, but the last thing I saw, were flames and the falling form of my mother into the fiery pit that I have been told claimed her life.
When I came around, I thought I dreamed. There was no light in this world. Only voices. The sounds of a hospital. The flurry of doctors and papers. The whir and tick of machines sounding in the background. I did what I perceived to be blinking, waiting for the darkness to wear off. For the lights to come back on. When i heard a nurse enter the room, I worked my lips into forming the words. Asking her to turn on the lights. She never answered. She instead, brought a doctor to my side. I requested the same of the doctor, who took a moments pause, before explaining that the lights were one. that it was midday, and that the sun was illuminating the room perfectly. There was no explanation for the grief that washed over me. I was blind. My parents were gone. I was alone in a dark world, and I would live there until I died. Why hadn't I died like the rest of them? Why had I been saved? And with my saving, why had I been forced to live in a world of darkness? Would it not have been better to have killed me with the rest of my relations? It was some cruel joke that I could live and not see the world around me after.
I grew accustomed to living in a world of darkness. My parents had always told me to seek out their friends, the Banes, if I ever needed shelter, and they were gone and unable to provide it. I sought out these Banes, thinking they were some family, but found that instead, they were a pack. A family of people fitted together. Also, that they were werewolves. Somehow, I was accepted into this pack. I don't know why. I was useless. I could bring nothing to the table. All I was good for, was sitting around, and listening. Hearing when people came and went. That was a useless act for a werewolf. It still is, but I have bettered myself from then.
The pack has grown around me. I have grown. My sight is gone, but my condition still exists. I am not in a dark world, but a world filled with colors. Sounds bring their brilliance to me, and though I can not see what normal people do, I see what other's can not. Sounds. Colors. I smell the distinct difference in scent that every person and wolf carry. I know the shape and can envision the appearance of the people who have talked with me. I know them distinctly, and maybe better then I would have with my sight. While I may not be a titled pack member with a certain job, I am better suited fr miscellaneous tasks. I can manage on my own, having learned how to cope. I am still helpful and useful, even if I can not see. I will be loyal to my pack that filled in the vacancy of my family. I am not alone in a world of darkness. I live in a brilliant world of color and sound and scent that I would not trade for anything.
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C A R : For when I'm out on the town without an escort
B E D R O O M : Plain and Simple
O T H E R : I'm blind and have Chromestehesia (Sound - -> Color Synesthesia). I also know the layout of the house well enough to move without my walking stick, unless people change the furniture on me. My nose has improved given my loss of vision. I am able to smell the distinct scents of people if they are close to me. I rely on this to tell people and places apart.
STELLALUNA SKYWIND ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
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Posted: Sun Feb 24, 2013 4:16 pm
 Cheveyo___________________________________________________________Novice N A M E : Zahra Rose Delecourt
A G E : 16
G E N D E R : Female
M A T E : None.
F A M I L Y : Osiris - Adoptive Father
W O L F : Wolf
P U P S : None
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P E R S O N A L I T Y
I'm pretty outgoing, and loud, so don't expect me to shut up. I hate being wrong, so I try to always be right. I don't like being rude to people, but don't back me into a corner. I have a mouth on me, but why cuss when it's not going to get you anywhere? It's not like saying "******** you" is going to make a situation better. It just lights up the other person. I'm dedicated to my training. Don't try to mess me up, or sabotage me. You'll really regret it. I'm a better friend then an enemy, so let's be friends and stay that way. I suppose I know how to hold a grudge, but I'd rather just get our difference in opinion out of the way, otherwise I'll sit and brood over it, and most likely just stay pissy. On the side, I like to think I'm pretty mature. I listen to my superiors fairly well, even if I don't always agree. Once I get a rank in the pack, I'm sure I'll be even more mature and serious about life, but right now, I can still party a little bit. I'm still a teenager without the weight of the world on my shoulders, and I plan on enjoying every moment.
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L I K E S
Rain, Running, Books, The ocean, Training, Sweets, Cooking.
D I S L I K E S
100 Degree weather, Being wrong, Failing, Drugs, The word "b*****d" directed at her, Needles, Eggs
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B I O G R A P H Y
I was born to two parents. That's biology. I never really got to know them. I don't think anybody really did. I don't remember my father at all. I don't know if he was a werewolf like me, or if he's just some man who decided to knock up my mom. I wouldn't be surprised either way. In truth, I could care less. My mom, I don't know much about her either. I can't remember her face. Not her eyes or her nose. I can barely remember her lips forming a lullaby that she sang to me when I was an infant. She had brown hair. It was light brown, and loosely hanging around her face. She said she loved me in that memory. Then she set me down, and that's all I remember. It may have been in a basket when I was delivered to the Cheveyo pack, or maybe it was just in my crib and I got to the pack later. I don't really remember much before the time I was four, aside form that one memory of course. I probably remember four, because that's when I clearly remember my first shift, and having to pick a last name for school. I wasn't left with one. Which, I would figure is weird. Everyone has a last name. It would have been on my birth certificate, but I don't know where that is either. Somehow, I just have papers. I'm assuming the alpha's took care of that for me, maybe because they liked me a little bit. More then likely, it was just because I had no one else to speak on my behalf and I was still a minor.
I wasn't necessarily a bad kid, but I had a lot of issues. When you don't have parents, I would assume any kid might have a rough start. The kids teased me at school, calling me a name I hate. "b*****d". I can't stand that word. It makes everything about my life and upbringing a little too real for my tastes. When they would call me that, or make fun of me for it, I would insist I had parents, referring to the alpha's as my parents as I was told I could, but there was always the question of why my last name didn't match up. That led to a few physical fights. I always got in trouble for those, even though I didn't start them. I made sure I finished them. That was probably why I got in so much trouble. I probably hurt those kids bad. I did fight with my fists. I knew the rules about shifting. Which sucked. Because I wouldn't have had to fight if I could just switch into my wolf form, but the rooms were too crowded, and I'm sure I would have gotten more punishment, or been stolen and locked up in some lab or something cruel like that. I don't think that's very enjoyable, and they'd probably poke me with a bunch of needles, which give me anxiety attacks, so, it's probably better that I listen to what I was told about shifting in public places.
When I was nine, we moved to a town called Hale. There was another pack in this town, and obviously everyone is territorial. With territorial werewolves, there is almost always some kind of fight for dominance. Read your stupid, misinformed books. Some of them aren't terribly incorrect. Just the additional powers generally. The behaviors tend to be relatively accurate. Anyways, all out war broke out between the two. It stretched on and on. Boring. Scary. With casualties. Seeing this, I didn't think I wanted to fight. I don't want to be someone who has to kill mercilessly. Four years spanned. Lots of fighting, even if there weren't kills. Lots of arguments. It was rather dreadful. The worst, came at the end of those four years. I was coming to be fourteen. I was only a few weeks away, and the alphas were slaughtered. Their bodies were found, and it was a sad day for everyone. Pepper had to take over, since she was the next in line.
Since then, things haven't been so bad. Hale is a safe place. The packs aren't supposed to fight there. Now that I'm old enough, i'm focusing on training to join the pack ranks. After I finish school, I can go out and get a job. Hopefully it will be a good one. I only have two more years after I finish this year. Then I can go get a job and take a rank in the pack. I do hope I get something good. Even if I become a warrior, I think I'll know how to be reasonable and fair by then. Training will make me that way. I'll become a great pack member, and do whatever I can for the pack. They're all that matter now. I don't care about the parents who abandoned me. I hope I never meet them. They aren't my family.
Osiris, you see, he was a godsend, coming in, and adopting me legally. Then, I could actually say I had a dad. It wasn't just a pity thing where I would call to people who took me in my parents. No. This was a legally binding document that stated who was my father, and who I belonged to. Sure, it expires when I'm eighteen, but I'm pretty sure the bond formed with signing those papers will stay forever.And that's more then I could really ask for. And even though he mated with my best friend, I can still forgive him. Just because it works better for him. He seems a lot happier now, and that's all that I really care about. My pack family is better than anything biological I've ever had,s o that's all that matters.
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C A R : If I'm not using my legs
B E D R O O M : Bedroom
O T H E R : Zahra's last name "Delecourt" was invented when she made her home in the Cheveyo pack. Her true last name is unknown. And she wanted to keep it, even though she was adopted.
STELLALUNA SKYWIND ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
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StellaLuna SkyWind Captain
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StellaLuna SkyWind Captain
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Posted: Sun Feb 24, 2013 4:17 pm
 Bane___________________________________________________________Iota N A M E : Xaviar Ryan
A G E : 26
G E N D E R : Male
M A T E : None
F A M I L Y : Xynos Ryan - Twin Brother
W O L F : Wolf
P U P S : I got three adopted kids. I don't need many more then that.
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P E R S O N A L I T Y
Flamboyant, is one way to describe me, because I sure as hell am not shy. I might be considered to have dual personalities, because I like to party, but I know how to be responsible in handling my job and the little ones I have to take care of. I know how to party hard, I know how to be confident in myself, but I'm not arrogant, just proud. I like being the way I am, I'm not going to take anyone's s**t. I protect those I care for, I'm fun-loving, easy-going, and I have a particular soft spot for the kiddos. I melt like butter for them when I wouldn't yield to others. I keep happiness in constant ready at my belt, right next to ferocity, and determination.
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L I K E S
Music, Pups, My Brother, Val's Accent, Sweets, Spoiling pups
D I S L I K E S
Child Abandonment, Drug Users, Child Abuse, Unhappy Kids, Homophobes, Ignorant people
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B I O G R A P H Y
Growing up wasn't all sunshine and roses. I was the second boy in a set of twins. My older brother beat me out of the womb by an hour. I don't really think he's that much older, but if calling him the older brother floats his boat, then far be it from me to stop his ego. I'm the younger twin of the bunch. My mother, devoted and dependent on my father worked straight off the bat at making sure we were healthy baby boys. I was told we were the light of her life, but I'm not sure if that was ever the case. See, I don't remember infancy, but from being a toddler, and what I can remember, my mother was a stone cold addict. No question about it. It's a miracle Xynos and I aren't brain dead. I don't know if our Mama ever dropped that crack pipe after we were able to waddle and cry when we needed something. She sure as hell wasn't present whenever my father came home. The worst part about it, was he let her indulge in that s**t without a word about it. I guess I don't have much room to complain. I always had clothes on my back and food in my mouth when I needed it.
If my wandering sexuality was ever a problem, the only one lucid enough to deal with it was my father. And of course, Xynos, because I'll tell you, my brother could be a huge d**k when it came to teasing. Being so close- being twins, he knew exactly what would get to me, and what I would be able to brush off. It was only Xynos that ever really got in deep digs and got away with it. If the other kids picked on me, even as we grew, Xynos had my back, making sure that the kids that made fun of me always paid some sort of price. I knew I was different, that liking boys and girls wasn't exactly something that was terribly common growing up, not as freely accepted as it is now, but still something manageable. It was the one huge difference between myself and my twin. We couldn't' even bridge that gap. There would be understanding, but things wouldn't be exactly the same. It wouldn't be a brotherly exchange that we could share. I would always be the one chasing the boys as much as the girls, even if I couldn't find them, of if they were straight and I chased fruitlessly. Xynos would stick to the ladies, and I would gladly pick up the slack and play both sides. It's just natural to me.
When it came to my eighth year, I watched my mother, addicted past the ability to recognize her family from shadows that only she could see, descend further into her madness. Shakes came if she didn't hit that pipe at least twice a day, and sometimes sneaked in anyways. She used needles too, but always said holding something made the high seem more effective. made it last longer. All it did was make the house smell like hell, and keep my mother occupied on the nothingness inside her mind. The world we could not see. There was no admittance for us. Finally, after watching her descent deeper and deeper, she was gone. Vanished under the weight of her addiction. The correct diagnosis was overdose, of course, but when the paramedics asked if we knew the seller that had supplied her, we had no answers. My father had no answers for the cops, though he had all the answers. He couldn't tell the police who had been the supplier, as it had been he, himself, that had fed my other's habit for years and years. He, who had let her smoke and inject more and more, until her mind had collapsed on itself. Until her frail heart stopped it's ability to beat. But I wasn't overwhelmed with sadness. I didn't think she was ever really a mother worth keeping. What kind of parent abandoned their child plainly, for the choice of a drug or vice, knowing that it would only tear them apart slowly? Surely not one that was worth anything.
It's probably the one thing that made me rank up in the pack. Our family had always resided in Hale. It was the place we belonged. Xynos and I joined the Bane pack, just as we were instructed. The way out father ushered us, made us turn that way, especially after our first shifts, and finding out what we were. Father always had ties to the pack, it's how we developed the curse, but we'd never been huge activists in it. Or at least, I hadn't. I'd kept to myself, dealing with my own internal conflict. When we were old enough to truly matter, that's when things changed. I took my rank as Iota, and it fit me. Perfectly. I would protect all those left behind and abandoned by shitty parents who didn't care enough about them to stand by their side. I would protect the weak, and make sure the strong did not prey on them. I would do whatever it took to give young kids someone to look up to and count on. And I stood, watching my brother, my defender. I cherished him above all else. We were a team and would never stop being one, even if we were different ranks, and different sexualities.
When our father passed on, he left us his drug ring. Now, despite our low key appearance, we're rolling in dough, and keeping crime up to give Adam s**t to do. I don't much care for the drug scene, so I leave it to rest on Xynos' shoulders, but I take of s**t when I need to. I became the big bad wolf, who blew peace and violence from the same pair of lips, and had an amazing Tenor tone. I'm still running the perfect cover, but it's more because it's who I truly am, then using it as a cover. I may be some Drug Lord Prince, but I'm still the caring Iota for the Bane pack, and that's who I'd rather be remembered by if I ever have a chance to write my name in history.
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C A R : Car
B E D R O O M : Bedroom
O T H E R : Xaviar, is pansexual. He keeps sexuality to himself, because the kids don't need to know that kind of crap. He's a stickler for being age appropriate around the children. He also likes music and tends to move around singing to people when he feels like it.
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Posted: Mon Jul 06, 2015 7:20 pm
 Xaviar Ryan OF THE BANE PACK
tab RANK: Pack Member
tab GENDER: Male
tab AGE: 27
tab FAMILY: None Living
tab MATE: None at the moment
tab PUPS: The Pack's pups are enough for now.
tab PERSONALITY
Flamboyant, is one way to describe me, because I sure as hell am not shy. I might be considered to have dual personalities, because although I like to party, I know how to be responsible in handling little ones. I have a magnetic draw to danger, and although parts of my life are in the past, I can't forget. My duty comes before my wants and desires. I have a particular soft spot for the little kids, and they can often bend my will better than many others. I can be stubborn in my decisions, but am also extremely protective of those I am charged to care for. Don't get on my bad side and we're all good.
tab BIOGRAPHY
Growing up wasn't all sunshine and roses. I was the second boy in a set of twins. My older brother beat me out of the womb by an hour. I don't really think he's that much older, but if calling him the older brother floats his boat, then far be it from me to stop his ego. My mother, devoted and dependent on my father worked straight off the bat at making sure we were healthy baby boys. I was told we were the light of her life, but I'm not sure if that was ever the case. See, I don't remember infancy, but from being a toddler, and what I can remember, my mother was a stone cold addict. No question about it. It's a miracle Xynos and I weren't brain dead out of the womb. I don't know if our Mama ever dropped that crack pipe after we were able to waddle and cry when we needed something. She sure as hell wasn't present whenever my father came home. The worst part about it, was he let her indulge in that s**t without a word about it. I guess I don't have much room to complain. I always had clothes on my back and food in my mouth when I needed it.
If my wandering sexuality was ever a problem, the only one lucid enough to deal with it was my father. And of course, Xynos, because I'll tell you, my brother could be a huge d**k when it came to teasing. Being so close- being twins, he knew exactly what would get to me, and what I would be able to brush off. It was only Xynos that ever really got in deep digs and got away with it. If the other kids picked on me, even as we grew, Xynos had my back, making sure that the kids that made fun of me always paid some sort of price. I knew I was different, that liking boys and girls wasn't exactly something that was terribly common growing up, not as freely accepted as it is now, but still something manageable. It was the one huge difference between myself and my twin. We couldn't' even bridge that gap. There would be understanding, but things wouldn't be exactly the same. It wouldn't be a brotherly exchange that we could share. I would always be the one chasing the boys as much as the girls, even if I couldn't find them, of if they were straight and I chased fruitlessly. Xynos would stick to the ladies, and I would gladly pick up the slack and play both sides. It's just natural to me.
When it came to my eighth year, I watched my mother, addicted past the ability to recognize her family from shadows that only she could see, descend further into her madness. Shakes came if she didn't hit that pipe at least twice a day, and sometimes sneaked in anyways. She used needles too, but always said holding something made the high seem more effective. made it last longer. All it did was make the house smell like hell, and keep my mother occupied on the nothingness inside her mind. The world we could not see. There was no admittance for us. Finally, after watching her descent deeper and deeper, she was gone. Vanished under the weight of her addiction. The correct diagnosis was overdose, of course, but when the paramedics asked if we knew the seller that had supplied her, we had no answers. My father had no answers for the cops, though he had all the answers. He couldn't tell the police who had been the supplier, as it had been he, himself, that had fed my other's habit for years and years. He, who had let her smoke and inject more and more, until her mind had collapsed on itself. Until her frail heart stopped it's ability to beat. But I wasn't overwhelmed with sadness. I didn't think she was ever really a mother worth keeping. What kind of parent abandoned their child plainly, for the choice of a drug or vice, knowing that it would only tear them apart slowly? Surely not one that was worth anything.
It's probably the one thing that made me rank up in the pack. Our family had always resided in Sterling. We laid low, and helped dear old dad manage his accounts, keeping our abilities a secret. Dad didn't know how the big pack in town would treat us, not abiding by human laws. Surely, they wouldn't take kindly to werewolves helping kill off humans through other vices. We were careful. It was hard, and undoubtedly someone knew about us, but either couldn't pinpoint us exactly, or just left us alone. Dear old dad had his protection too, with so many humans swarming in and out of the town, his operation was a great distraction. When he passed, he left the ring to his two sons. Xynos, being older, was the one who took most of the work, ruling his kingdom with an iron fist. The bigger the ring got, the harder it was to keep cover. Instead, when the Bane pack rolled into town, I joined up. It pissed Xynos off, and he called me a coward, said I needed to get my priorities aligned with my loyalties. He couldn't understand that i was doing this to protect him. I was still the big bad wolf to his teeth. The sword to his hand. I was the one who doled out punishments alongside him when his men went astray.
I knew what it was to grow up without a good guiding hand, and that's probably what pointed me in the direction of the pups of the Bane pack. Being their protector, and acting as a buffer between them and the harsher world that was banging on their doorstep was what I decided to do with my life. I know that the pack has plenty of protectors, but personally, I made it my own mission to keep them safe in a world where freedom wasn't getting any easier. When Xynos came to me and told me to make a choice, between being Prince of the Drug Ring, or dealing with the pack, I chose the pack. i chose my path away from what he offered. He was furious and told me to get out, to never let him catch my face in the light again. That was three weeks before they found him dead. Without his big bad wolf, apparently, he lost his war. I'll never stop blaming myself for his death, but I'll make a better world for those that I can, so that they never have to deal with the world I knew as a child.
tab OTHER
☾ Xaviar, is pansexual. He keeps sexuality to himself, because the kids don't need to know that kind of crap. He's a stickler for being age appropriate around the children. He also likes music and tends to move around singing to people when he feels like it.
☾ Xaviar is trained to be fierce as a fighter, but really, he'd rather be a lover, playing and protecting kids, but if called to battle, he'll act and kill. No mercy would be given if someone hurt one of the pack's children, or any child really.
tab Stellaluna Skywind
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StellaLuna SkyWind Captain
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StellaLuna SkyWind Captain
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Posted: Mon Jul 06, 2015 9:08 pm
 Persephone Giese OF THE HALE PACK
tab RANK: Tracker
tab GENDER: Female
tab AGE: Twenty Four
tab FAMILY: Open for plotting.
tab MATE: None currently
tab PUPS: I don't think that's a possibility.
tab PERSONALITY
Persephone is a take charge kind of person, with a "better to ask forgiveness than permission" mantra. She works hard to uphold the rights and laws that the pack doles out. Her actions are a match for her words, as she doesn't say much of anything that she does not sincerely mean. That said, she doesn't take others lightly. She regards business as a serious matter and her duty as something to be upheld. this does not mean that she doesn't know how to have fun. When she's not on call, or actively trying to uphold the laws, she rather kick back and fun. she's still a bit serious, but she enjoys moments of freedom. Letting her hair down comes few and far between. She's loyal, trustworthy, and creative. Her dedication and loyalty are probably her two most prominent traits.
tab BIOGRAPHY
Born overseas in the Alsace region of France, Persephone was part of a small pack of wolves that ran in the underground of the region. Her family was two parents and five children, of which, Persephone, born to the name Orianne, was the third child. She has three brothers, two of which are older, one directly younger, and her youngest sibling is a sweet sister. They were one of the larger families in their pack, and her father was up in it's ranks, bringing their family to a higher respect among those of the pack. The children of Gilberte family were not by any means spoiled, but they were not destitute. Both parents worked hard to save for their children's education and ambitions, wanting to grant their children the most normal and painless life that could be granted. They could not change things such as Orianne's eldest brother losing a finger at twelve in an accident, or the fact that their youngest daughter Emilie was a frail girl that needed much care. Yet, they made do.
Orianne, while rough and tough as her brothers, learning to be bother a lady and a fighter was always trying to measure up to her older siblings, she doted especially upon Emilie. Her younger sister was a great light in her life. one smile form the little girl on a bad day, even when her younger brother cut off both of her pigtails and she had to have short hair like a boy, Emilie had a magical sense to her that made Orianne calm. When the frail girl was sick, Orianne was at her side. She did her best to be around whenever she was needed. It was hard for Emilie to go to school outside of the home, leaving was almost impossible with her strange frailty, but Orianne as well as her brothers brought the little girl treats, books, and anything she asked for.
Growing up, this was how things worked. The older siblings helped the younger, and the family was tight knit. It was all dandy until the night Persephone turned sixteen. Studying for exams, Orianne had chosen to devote herself to linguistics. This was not simply the study of languages, as the she wolf had other thoughts in mind. In her spare time, she spent large amounts of time learning computer coding, and was an adequate little hacker. On a night in late June, the summer heat bristling into their cramped but comfortable home, with her eldest brother's mate, and their child sleeping soundly in a room nearby, an alarm was raised. Her father was summoned to a pack meeting, as were her brothers. Orianne was not expressly invited, but managed to sneak in anyways. One of the newer families to join the pack had a son who was of mate-able age. Instead of choosing a mate from the pack as many did, this male had gone after a human girl. And he had bitten her. The most sacred of the pack vows had been broken. There was to be no changing of humans without very careful scrutiny of the matter. It was almost never done, which was why this was such a huge matter. The girl did not want what came with it. She had run from the male, and it was only a matter of time before the pack would be at jeopardy.
There was a great rift of indecision on what should be done about the boy who had bitten the human so carelessly. Many thought they should turn him in to suffer alone, casting him from the pack. His family, and a group of sympathizers thought the punishment was too harsh. The casting vote came from the Male of Gilberte. Orianne's father made the decision that outcasted the boy. Enraged, the father of the boy challenged the father, but the fight was postponed, threatening the accused family's exile. Words were shared, and there was a promise that the end of things had not been seen.
When the boy was cast out, he was hunted. Humans came with guns and fire, pitchforks and silver. Anything they thought would kill the wolves. They attacked the male, but were not satisfied. They began hunting the pack. It was mayhem. Families turned upon families, tearing the very seams of the pack that had been so loyal before this dispute had disrupted the unwrinkled fabric. Instead, families began naming others just to save their skins, creating rumors to turn trails cold in the night. Not only would it tear the pack apart, but individual families would be torn apart as well.
Deeming it too explosive to be safe for his mate and child, Orianne's eldest brother moved from the family with promises to let them know where he settled once they had. Her second brother stuck to their father, as his shadow to protect their family. Her mother suggested that she leave with the three younger children so that they would be safe. Her father would not allow it, insisting that there would be strength in numbers. He wanted his family together, so he could better protect them while still doing his duty to the pack. However, the Gilberte family was reported as a suspicious family.
The humans came, with guns, bullets, fire, and pitchforks. The Gilberte family went for the tunnels in a panic, splitting up. The father and eldest son going one way, the mother and youngest boy another, and Orianne was charged with Emilie, carrying her piggy back towards safety. They would meet at a safe house outside the city. Frail as she was, Emilie was not ready for the horrible jarring that escaping would bring. Being a girl of ten, she was quite frightened. By terrible fortune, or their noisy escape, the humans found the tunnel that Orianne and Emilie had escaped in. They chased on. Feeling threatened was causing both their wolves to become more alert. Far more ready to shift and change, the tunnel became tighter and the need to flee more apparent. Orianne could practically smell the shift coming on her younger sister and worried that it would be hard upon her, and the danger that they would face if she did indeed shift.
Orianne raced faster, trying to keep her sister safe. The end of the tunnel was coming quickly. She could almost see it. Then she saw the grate. Blocking their exit. there would have to be another way. Taking an offshoot, the sisters continued. Coming into an alcove, Orianne dropped her sister in. taking only moments to steady herself and find her bearings, she looked back to the young girl who trembled with the need to shift. Orianne shook her head, whispering comforts as loudly as she dared, kissing her forehead before picking her up again. The humans seemed to have lost their trail. Orianne didn't trust it. She headed through the tunnel, finding another exit. It lead through a foul smelling pipe that let out far east of the village, close to the river Rhine. If she could make it across the river, she'd be safe, and in German lands. the french wouldn't cross, not until morning. Not until they felt safe to do so. She moved faster towards the river, cresting a hill that led towards the river when the shot rang out. Another followed. A yelp escaped the older girl's lips and they tumbled into the swift moving river.
As the cold water took them downstream, Orianne kept her sister afloat. She tugged the little girl's body to her, trying to swim them to safety on the shore. She heard shouts and pulled them underwater, trying to make it look as if the shots had hit their marks and killed both girls. There was burning in her shoulder already, so there was undoubtedly blood in the water if it could be seen in the dim evening light. No moon shone in the sky, as if it too had turned her face upon the Gilberte family.
Moments passed, turning into hours. She held tightly to Emilie, whispering words to the girl so she wouldn't be afraid. After what seemed like forever, but in reality was only about ten minutes, Orianne pulled herself from the river, along with Emilie. the girl was cold, and her eyes were closed. Orianne feared that it had made her quite sick. She tapped her sisters cheeks , trying to warm her, pushing off the wet blankets wrapped around her. That was when she noticed the small, circular wound in her chest. Blood seeped sluggishly from the wound. Orianne choked on her fears, touching her little sister's arms and hands, trying to wake her, to shake off the fear that was settling in. Only moments had passed and the pain in her shoulder was nothing compared to the pain of breathing while her sister was not. She couldn't look at her father and mother, knowing that it had been her fault that her sister had died. If it had been her own life, she could have managed. But it was her baby sister. The beautiful girl who would never know what it was to live outside once she had conquered what crippled her so in life. Who would never know what it was to hunt prey in fresh snow. To fight another wolf. A little girl who would never know what it was like to live.
Orianne knew there would be nothing for her at home to go back to. Instead, she took her sisters body and pulled it from the shore and into a hollow in the side of the grassy slop they had fallen from yards down. Undoubtedly her parents would find the body. Orianne even sent a silent prayer to Lupen that they would. And with a final three kisses, one to each cheek, and one to Emilie's forehead, Orianne said goodbye.
She found a boat to carry her across the river and spent the next couple of weeks regrouping, getting paperwork together and tying up the loose ends she could. It was better if her family thought she had died. She wouldn't face them again with the guilt. She took only as much time as she needed to heal from her wound. it was a flesh wound really, not too deep with a clean entrance and exit. Once the bullet had been removed and she was steady, she headed south, away from Alsace and France altogether. Heading through Germany, she went east, and then south into Italy. The travels took her a couple of years. She never stayed in the same place more than necessary, afraid that eventually another pack would contact her family if they came in contract with her. She needed to be away from them. She couldn't go back. She needed to be truly dead to them.
A boat across the channel to Greece made the change permanent. In her brief studies there, she learned of the Queen of the Underworld, Persephone. It was then that the girl from France disappeared, to be nothing more than an accent and a memory. Orianne Gilberte became Persephone Giese, using the ancient masculine form of her surname, the only piece of her family she kept, Persephone became a new person. She couldn't stay in Europe. Some part of her told her that, and when she caught news of the Hale pack and their historic laws and traditions, she figured that would be where she went. Finding someone to make her papers for her new identity, the girl fled Europe with a promise at a new life, and a chance to make it for herself in a new way.
It was not easy, by any means. Getting to Sterling, the place that the Hale pack was rumored to be, was something else. It wasn't because her English was far from flawless, but survival itself was hard. Even at twenty one, it was hard to get a job, or find a way to make money. She was bilingual, which strangely helped her, but it was not necessarily a selling point when jobs asked if she had a permanent address or wanted to see school transcripts. Saying she had nearly obtained a degree was nothing if she could not prove it. Instead, she began hacking and writing code, which made her a bit of money, but not nearly enough to survive. Eventually, when she found the Hale pack, she discovered they had rivals. their purpose was policing other packs and taking care of criminals. their laws were absolute, and Persephone could not find anything in her that went against the laws. Humans would ruin everything, the pack needed to be protected at all costs. She would devote herself to that purpose.
She was by no means readily accepted into the pack either. It took work and skill. She lost many fights before she started winning. She was fast and her style was different. She used that to her advantage, keeping her body peaked so that she could move lithe and swift like a dancer, but with the deadly force necessary to make killing blows. Her skills with a computer helped her as well. If she wanted to find someone, normally, if she tried, she could do so. When she was a wolf, her nose had the same sort of goal, finding her prey to make the kill, or find who she was looking for. It was something that helped her become a tracker. By no means is she perfect, or in anyway wanting any role above what she has now, but her loyalty and determination to her pack and it's purpose are unfailing and will remain so.
tab OTHER
☾ Persephone speak French, German, and English fluently. She can speak other languages such as Spanish and Italian conversationally, and is studying others.
☾ She's a whiz at computers. But it's a lazy habit, not one that she hones everyday like fighting and working out.
☾ She has a scar on her right shoulder from where the bullet entered and exited that she keeps under clothing and to herself if she can help it.
tab Stellaluna Skywind
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Posted: Wed Jul 22, 2015 2:05 am
 Zahra Rose Delecourt OF THE BANE PACK
tab RANK: Outsider
tab GENDER: Female
tab AGE: Sixteen
tab FAMILY: None
tab MATE: N/A
tab PUPS: None.
tab PERSONALITY
Once I was a quiet kid. I was content to be myself and be happy with the people who surrounded me. Then I learned that the world was an interesting place where only the strongest survived, so I became stronger. I have my flaws and faults, and I embrace them. If you come at me hot, I'll swing right back at you. I;m smart, and fast. I can push your buttons and get you to explode before I will. I'm loud when I need to be, and I hate to be wrong. I'm stubborn, driven, and dedicated to the things I set my mind to. If I want something, I work hard for it. I won't let tragedy keep me down, even if it has messed me up a little. Just makes sure you don't touch me unless I say so.
tab BIOGRAPHY
I was born to two parents. That's biology. I never really got to know them. I don't think anybody really did. I don't remember my father at all. I don't know if he was a werewolf like me, or if he's just some man who decided to knock up my mom. I wouldn't be surprised either way. In truth, I could care less. My mom, I don't know much about her either. I can't remember her face. Not her eyes or her nose. I can barely remember her lips forming a lullaby that she sang to me when I was an infant. She had brown hair. It was light brown, and loosely hanging around her face. She said she loved me in that memory. Then she set me down, and that's all I remember. It may have been in my crib, or it may have been in a hospital bed, or in a basket at one of those safe surrender places. Point is, there was no dear mommy and daddy to speak of. I don't really remember much before the time I was four, aside from that one memory of course. I probably remember four, because that's when I clearly remember my first shift. I remember howling in pain, being confused with no one to help guide me. I was alone in the backyard of the house I lived at. When I came up to the house, pawing at the door, the woman who had been my "foster mother" chased me off with a broom, calling for the man of the house who would undoubtedly bring a gun. I went back into the woods. They CPS people found me later and took me from the house. The people I lived with said they hadn't been able to find me, but really, who loses a four year old child? Or chases them away with a broom and threats?
The next monumental thing of my childhood was having to pick a last name for school. I wasn't left with one. Which, I would figure is weird. Everyone has a last name. It would have been on my birth certificate, but I don't know where that is either. don't think the CPS people did either, which leads me to believe that my parents knew what they were getting into when they had me. I must have been an at home birth, with no documentation, like a back alley baby that was supposed to be aborted. Maybe I was, and my mother couldn't go through with it? Maybe sh tried and I was just too stubborn to give up on life. Or maybe, at one point, she really loved me, and that's why she gave me away. That's what all the psychologists said anyways. From there, I was bounced around homes. I wasn't necessarily a bad kid, but I had a lot of issues. When you don't have parents, I would assume any kid might have a rough start. The kids teased me at school, calling me a name I hate when they found out about my circumstance. "b*****d". I can't stand that word. It makes everything about my life and upbringing a little too real for my tastes. When they would call me that, or make fun of me for it, I would insist I had parents, but it was never true. The people I lived with weren't my parents. And none of them ever really invested the time in me to parents either.
The name calling led to a few physical fights. I always got in trouble for those. Even though I didn't start them, I made sure I finished them. That was probably why I got in so much trouble. I probably hurt those kids bad. I did fight with my fists. I had to teach myself after shifting a few times, that humans simply didn't understand the other part of me that was a wolf. They never would. One time, when I was seven, one of the bigger boys in one of the houses I lived in cornered me. I told him to back off, but he wouldn't leave me alone. He kept shoving and pushing and wouldn't leave me alone. I tried hard not to shift, but when he punched me, it happened. The boy screamed for the adults in the house. They came running, and I barely had time to sneak out of one of the windows. I could still hear the chubby kid screeching about how the girl had turned into a wolf. I ran and ran, as far from the house as I could get. The things that were left behind didn't matter, because they weren't truly mine. When CPS caught up to me, I was regarded as a runaway, and of course, that meant a new placement. They would never understand why I had to run, and there was no point in explaining.
The older I got, the more often I had to run. At ten, I spent my first stint in juvie. I was there for three days, and I made sure I was isolated. I fought the people that brought me in. There was no way I was going into a place where people could hurt me. The days ticked by, and they sent me to a new house, this time, far away from anywhere I'd ever been. The land was flat and white. There were no trees, no mountains, no hills. Just dirty suburbia under the lights of traffic and the stench of production. That's where I met Julian. He had an older brother that was out of the system, but Jules was still caught up in the intricate web of being a minor. The house we lived at was a dump. The parents didn't care, the male was a drunk who sat in front of the tv all day, and the lady worked two jobs and was never around to notice how her husband leered at me, and the two other girls in the house. I heard him some nights coming into our room that the three of us shared, rustling blankets, pulling one from the bed. The long mousy haired girl always went with him. When she did, her face was tired and dull, when she came back, she looked a if she were gone completely. It didn't take long to put two and two together.
Telling Jules, he promised that he'd find a way to get us both out. Jules was a human. He could never understand my need to get out before I did something serious. Full moons came and went, and when I told Jules I needed him to cover for me, he did, with little to no hesitation. The more I went, the more curious he got. We got into a fight about it one night, and he said he wouldn't cover for me. It was right after a full moon and I was exhausted. I didn't want to fight but Jules wouldn't leave me alone. I told him straight faced what i was, and he laughed me off. The idiot didn't believe me, but that was on him. That night, the man came for me, tired of his mousy haired favorite. Course hands found my exhausted body as it lay there, and I was pulled fro bed, being told that the female of the house wanted a word with me. I couldn't protest as he began dragging me from my bed. Instead, I simply went along with him. He puled me into the back of the house, away from the bedrooms and into a small study where I saw the female go after working sometimes. There was a chaise lounge and a computer desk. The man sat me down, offered me a drink, and then started to go at me, getting closer and closer until his hands were getting into places they shouldn't have been. I fought him. Tired and crazed, I left him with a black eye and lounge gouge marks on his face. He left me a wring of bruises on my wrist and halfway around me neck. The female came home, called the CPS and I was back to juvie, away from Jules.
Over the next two years, I was in and out of juvie and homes like people went to the movies. Sometimes, I bumped into Jules who never stopped covering for me, and other times, I had to find him by whatever means I had necessary. He still didn't believe me, and even when we met up and got separated, he joked about the wolf girl who ran away and changed on the nights of the full moon. He may have been joking, but he was spot on. When I was bordering twelve, I went out for a full moon. Jules and I were living in the same city, but not the same house. I had told him not to come, that I would be busy, but somehow he found me, right before my shift. He'd said he needed to talk to me, that his brother had finally managed enough of a place to get us both out. I told him to stay away. I tried to run him off, but he wouldn't listen and followed me anyways. I couldn't help it, the call was too strong and I shifted in front of him. He stared at me a long time, and I was frozen in fear. This was what I always thought would happen. Someone would find out. They would call, and I'd end up in some sort of lab, strapped to a table where they plugged needle after needle into me. Needles were my worst enemy. They made me anxious. Looking at Jules, I could see and smell his fear upon him. He wouldn't come near me. I sat and watched, and just as I was about to run off,he reached out, touched my ears, as if to see if I were still there, and there was something different in his eyes. Something of awe. It was then that I knew for some strange reason, Jules would be the only one I'd ever be able to show myself to like this.
That was the start of the end. A few months later, I had been rehomed again and Jules was gone. The people at this house were drab and dull, not caring what I did, or where I went. I got out for full moons and handled my business as I could. It was getting monotonous when a surprise came through. Jules reached out to me. He was free. His brother had spring him from the system somehow, and now, he would come for her to take her away too. With such a relief, I packed my bag, ready to leave that night. It didn't matter who Jules' brother was. As long as I was with Jules and out of the system, I would be safe. As promised, that night they came for me. I was ecstatic to see Jules. He was beefed up, as if he'd been working out and actually getting fed. his brother was twice his size, with large hands and arms, but he smiled politely enough. he asked if I was sure, and once I told him I was, we were off.
The house Jules brother owned was more of a dumpy building. People came and went form the space as Jules and I lived there. Apparently, the people were part of some business Jules' brother ran, but he didn't like when questions were asked, so we did as we were told. We counted money, made meals, Jules did logs for his brother, and I kept the place clean. Sometimes, his brother would come home in a foul mood, and other times, there would be people with him, mostly women. They came and went, looking strangely more subdued when they left than when they had entered. I realized too late what was going on. I had just turned fourteen when Jules' brother came home in a rampage. He was throwing things around the kitchen, yelling, and had Jules by the collar when I found them. Jules was already bleeding from the lip and a bruise was building on his face. The wolf in me wanted to fight, but I bit it back as I intervened, trying to tear them apart, but the diversion was disastrous.
The rage became directed at me. Jules' brother grabbed me, and screamed at Jules, telling me that if he had wanted a free loader he could have had better ones. Instead, he said that he was going to make sure I was put to work. Jules cam at his brother, but one of the guys that frequently lodged with us held him back. It started in an instant. He had me by my arms before I knew better. I tried to pull away, but even drunk and enraged he had me pinned, tossing me against the counter, even as I screamed and fought him. He was claiming his prize in the blink of an eye, and as I screamed, and begged, and as Jules fought and cursed, there was nothing we could do. Our roles were decided. Jules, looking at me with pity and shame, and myself, turning away, violated and degraded, gone from the world for that moment.
It didn't stop there. That was only the beginning. Jules brother made sure I was with him frequently. Something about being a favorite. He bought me nicer things, made sure I went out with him, looking like a prize, rather than some street kid. His business began to boom and with me as a distraction, he seemed to find different manners of occupying himself. It was disgusting. I felt terrible and trapped. It was hard to get away form him on full moons,a nd instead, I locked my door, hiding away form him, telling him I was sick, anything I could do to keep him away. It began to get harder and harder, but Jules, knowing, kept his brother away.
I couldn't stand it anymore. One night, he came home, and said we were going to a party. The parties he went to were disgusting displays of people. Strange things that couldn't be understood. I knew perfectly well what his plans were when he brought in the square box. This one wasn't a ring, or a fancy glittering jewel. When he opened the box, revealing a collar, I knew this night would be my last. I wouldn't wear it. I didn't have much of a choice. We were staying out in a town in the middle of nowhere. The party was at some fancy club that was secluded, most likely because of the business that was being invoked. I was going to be presented. I t seemed the brother found the need to cash in on his profits. Whatever this stop was, it'd be the last time I'd see Jules. I wasn't going to sit by idly and wait. I was going to run. Night came, and the party was in full swing. The doors were being guarded, but Jules came to free me. He took me out to one of the back terraces where a garden with secluded spots was found. There were guards out here too, but somehow he'd found a way for me to get out. The collar, under the lock and key of his brother, for whatever crazy reason I was wearing it, was not coming off, but Jules promised me a way out. When he pushed aside the ivy for a hole in the fence, I looked at him and ran.
That was the last I'd seen of him. I made it into a neighboring town, one called Sterling, and it's my goal to lay low for a while, before moving on. I can't let CPS catch me, and I sure as hell am not going back to where I'd been. Freedom is the only chance I have now, and I won't give up the little I have.
tab OTHER
☾ Zahra absolutely hates needles. Knowing they're coming for her makes her really anxious. Seeing one can make her queasy, and when she actually has to have a shot, she may throw up/pass out.
☾ Zahra is wary of men, but she's rather scrappy. She's not afraid to fight one, and will get down and do it if she has to.
☾ Ultimately, Zahra just wants a home. She wants to be safe and loved, under all that messy exterior of deflection and self preservation she has going on.
☾ She really likes books. Old, dusty, heavy in your hand books.
tab Stellaluna Skywind
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StellaLuna SkyWind Captain
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StellaLuna SkyWind Captain
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Posted: Tue Jul 28, 2015 12:06 am
[Hale Pack] Bronwyn Lane - Stellaluna Skywind 8/2/15 - Yearling  Bronwyn Findabhair Lane OF THE UKUFA HALE PACK
tab RANK: Outsider/ Yearling
tab GENDER:Female
tab AGE: Fourteen
tab FAMILY: All the blood family got murdered. Gema and Joseph are all I have left.
tab MATE: Too young.
tab PUPS: None
tab PERSONALITY
Fiery, Stubborn, Hard-headed, Dedicated, and Opinionated. Bryn is a typical teen. She has a mouth on her and doesn't like to be told she's wrong. She's plenty eager to be up and running with the bigger wolves of her pack. She's trying to prove herself to her dear old dad and the alpha that she can be just as good a fighter as her father. She's only gentle to an elder of the pack. She's gets grumpy when she looses and takes most things very personally. She has hopes for her future and will be different following the move to the Hale pack.
tab BIOGRAPHY
It all started with a man in the Irish mob, and a flame haired Irish lass who fell in love. Maybe it had never been intentional, but the outcome was inevitable. Love was rampant, and passion led from one thing to another, and a child with a mop of brown curls was born into the world. It wasn't long after the birth of the young Irish girl that the man left his fiery lass for a different sort of life. His reasoning was that it would give the child a better life, but it left behind a scorned woman. A scorned Irish woman at that. The woman, Maeve, raised her daughter alone, with only the help of her parents for supervision. She was the breadwinner and the fighter of the family. Taking care of her child was her first priority. Even if Bronwyn's father had left, she would make certain that the girl would grow up well. His reasons didn't matter. She would raise her daughter the right way.
When the girl turned eight, the mob began to have its upheavals once again. Fearing for the life of her daughter, Maeve did everything in her power to track down Bryn's father and see if he had a safer place for his daughter. Once she had confirmed the location, Maeve made arrangements to have her daughter shipped to the strange place after her father. With a kiss, hug, and a token so her father would know, Maeve shipped her daughter off with the hopes that she would be safer in her father's protection than in Ireland where the world was falling apart.
At first, Bronwyn was devastated. She hated being away form her mother. Hated the idea of going to live with her father who she had never met. Instead, she was quiet. She only dealt with the children of the pack, specifically Jojo, and eventually, their constant tail known as Gema. After a while, Bronwyn became an absolute daddy's girl. She followed him around, learned how to hold, load, and shoot a gun, and decided that she would take over his position when she was old enough to have one in the pack. She has spent the last few years training to be assimilated fully into the pack, giving Jojo hell, and watching after Gema on occasion when she didn't feel Jojo was paying attention.
One day, she'll be Gema's guardian, and still be able to beat up Jojo, even after he becomes beta.
tab OTHER
☾ Bryn knows she's in trouble when her name "Bronwyn" is used. She abhors anyone using it, especially if the person is not an older pack member.
☾ She takes after her father, in an attempt to mimic him and be strong like him, and has begun to work with guns under his supervision. She knows how to load, lock, and pull the trigger if necessary. But only the single gun he has showed her how to use. (Beretta U22 Neo).
☾ Bryn has this idea of family and everyone staying together that she's not going to let go.
tab Stellaluna Skywind
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Posted: Mon Aug 03, 2015 12:04 am
[Bane Pack] Konstanze Ulrika Wymar - Stellaluna Skywind 8/3/15 - Elder  Konstanze Ulrika Wymar OF THE BANE PACK
tab RANK: Elder
tab GENDER: Female
tab AGE: 86
tab FAMILY: Dyson - Grandson, Alwyn - Grandson ; Avery - Granddaughter
tab MATE: Nein.
tab PUPS: Nein. Only Enkelkinder
tab PERSONALITY
Stubborn, cranky, and mysterious are only a few words the describe Konstanze. She is an old woman, and by that, very set in her ways. Her heart is huge, and has been damaged many a times. She is not as wistful or forgiving as she used to be. Nowadays, she is more quiet and closed off. She does not tolerate excuses, having seen many of the terrible things life has offered. She is territorial and closed off, speaking only to her grandchildren and very few others, and only on strenuous occasions. She is short tempered and moody, giving her sass and flair to where she goes. She's very blunt on the arguments. You can try, but you will not win.
tab BIOGRAPHY
Born at a time where the world was preparing for another war, Konstanze was born in Neuenbürg, Germany. As a girl, she went to school, just as they normal children did. She had no care or creed on the war brewing just beneath her feet. Her own difference were enough to make her realize that she was no different than those that wages war upon others for their race. At nine years old, she dealt with the second world war and all of it's terrors. Neighbors, classmates, even a few pack mates went missing from the streets. In her own home, beneath the floorboards was a safe haven for those hiding form the Nazis, waiting to be trafficked out of the mother land and into different countries. The pack sometimes hid beneath the floorboards as well. Humans, cohabiting with wolves however, was sometimes a problem. Their house could never harbor during full moons. Not even on the most desperate of occasions, which made many angry, and casued the loss of life.
Through the war, Konstanze was faced with many different tasks. Her schooling stopped early so she could study medicine under the guise of helping out the armies. She used her trade to help not only those living in her home, but also those who came to her door, seeking medical attention when no others would grant it. She took all forms of payment, not being stingy on what others could afford. If she could give, then those in need would have what they deserved and could take. It was through this that Konstanze met the love of her life. A wounded soldier during the last years of the war came to her, nearly dead, dying on the doorstep as people snuck his body into the bottom of the house. The man was a dark haired German male. Eyes hard as flint. Delirious in his pain, he insulted her countless times, but she sat at his bedside for four days, nursing him slowly back to health. It was a bond that would last a long time. This man was not simply a man. He was also a wolf, just as she was. Form a neighboring pack; he had been left for dead in the war, unable to be reclaimed as he fought the good fight. Their bond was forged in his near death.
With her parents permission, the male was allowed to court her, and eventually they mated. Their pack readjusted to it's new couple, finding a new birth in the youth that began within it. Shortly after, by the mere age of twenty two, Konstanze and her beloved Heinrich had rise to the top of the pack as alpha and consort. They led their small pack through Germany, rebuilding their war torn country one piece of shrapnel at a time. Their families wee enough to keep them motivated, as well as their cause. Though much in love, and even with others in the pack finding love, both human and wolf, they chose not to mate until they found their own spot. Both wolves were in their thirties when their first child came. A boy. Over the span of the next ten years, four more children followed. Two more boys and two girls.
Raising beautiful children in a land torn by war, slowly knitting itself back together was a challenge. With five little ones running around, the two alphas had a very big job. Not only were they in charge of their pack, as they aged, but of it's youth. The children were the most important part, however. It was something Konstanze always told herself. Just as she had made better decisions about her life to help those around her, the children were the adults of tomorrow. She educated her children to the best of her abilities and sent them to school so they would learn how to be proper young people. While her mate ruled the pack, Konstanze herself took pride in her work as a healer and did her part for the pack in that manner.
As the couple continued to age, their children went off to do bigger and better things, including leaving the pack they had so carefully crafted for them. Konstanze would not begrudge them their futures, just as her parents had let her make her own. She blessed each child as they left. Her oldest boy, at just the age of twenty set out to become the alpha of another pack. His brother just behind him was the one that at Konstanze's fifty-fifth year alerted her that she had lost a son. So soon after his birth, before he had lived, she was putting a child in the ground. Before his time. Before her own. No child should ever go before their parents, and here she was, putting her first born into the earth. It was the first time that she and her mate fought. In their grief they turn to one another, although the fight was short lived, preferring to spend their grief with each other, instead of at each other's throats.
Her second son went out to find his own pack with his mate, taking on a more rigid law for life. The Hale pack had issued their laws long ago, but it was the first time Konstanze had to deal with them. She simply allowed her son to lead his life, knowing that his path had been chosen and there was not much she could do to dissuade him from such. Her first daughter was given away to a male who promised to keep her safe. When she came of age, they were in love and she was mated off, but their pack was attacked, and not too far after, Konstanze was putting two of her daughters into the ground. To lose two children in one attack was far worse than her first loss. To answer such a loss, her husband went out to track down the alpha of the enemy pack. It took him several years. He killed the alpha, and both Konstanze and her beloved Heinrich decided it was time to step down from their own pack, and let the children handle the rest. With their pack secured, Konstanze and Heinrich sought out another hideaway in Germany where they could age in peace and watch their children grow.
At sixty-one, the two elderly wolves discovered that they were to be grandparents. Overjoyed with the new generation, both went for a visit to their eldest living son, to see him and his mate and their new grandchild. The bond was struck,and Alwyn very much had his grandparents wrapped around his small little fingers. The following year his brother Dyson was born. And four years following, the happy grandparents welcomed a darling granddaughter into the fold. Their lives were happy, and full of life and meaning. It was hard, when at sixty-eight, Konstanze woke up and her beloved Heinrich did not. A heart attack had snuck upon him in the night, and he had not seen morning. The grandmother, despite the love for her children and grandchildren withdrew from them to coat her own grief. Burying her husband in their family plot, alongside their eldest son and two daughters, the woman became practically reclusive for a few years. She could not stay away long form her grandchildren, but she busied herself with helping others and traveling so she would not have to go home to an empty house.
When Alwyn began speaking of the female he wished to mate, hope bloomed anew in Konstanze's heart. A fresh love like this for her beloved grandson would be good. However, the alpha of this pack followed the beliefs of Hale. Fraternizing with a human would be unacceptable. In his rage, Alwyn killed the alpha. Konstanze feared for her grandson. The Hale pack was huge and had been around for very long. There would be no way for him to avoid their wrath indefinitely. When his parents had not stepped in to help him, Konstanze moved to offer, but found herself being watched. She could not lift her help to her grandson either. Instead she tried her best to run the Hale tracker's off his trail, making false calls and doing everything in her power to lead them astray. She thought she had known loss when she buried her children, but looking at her son and his mate, who had condemned their son to death, was a new kind of abandonment. The mother turned her back on her son, vowing that he would pay.
Her heart went to her grandson. Her granddaughter too, went to help Alwyn. Konstanze heard no updates for many months. She had not expected to, but she hoped they would be alright. She prayed to Lupen nightly, although she had never before prayed so vigilantly in her life. Instead, she woke up in the middle of the night to a phone call from her distraught grandson telling her that his mate and unborn child had been murdered in cold blood. And that her precious granddaughter was beaten almost senseless. Konstanze left everything behind to go to her grandchildren. The ones who had defied the law for their right to love.
When Alwyn began moving to strike his forces together, Konstanze supported him in all the ways she could. But she was old. When he began recruiting, she instructed him where to find her, and to come and get her when he was settled in a place. A few years later, when Alwyn chose Sterling as his place of residence, Konstanze left everything behind, including her beloved husband and children in their family plot, and moved to Sterling to be with her grandson and granddaughter. She has been gleefully creating elderly havoc ever since.
tab OTHER
☾ Call her grandma. Do not call her Konstanze.
☾ Grandma stare is like death. Do not tempt it.
☾ She speaks mostly German and has a heavy accent. Don't be surprised if she can not understand other languages or words.
☾ She's really only nice to Avery and Alwyn.
tab Stellaluna Skywind
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StellaLuna SkyWind Captain
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StellaLuna SkyWind Captain
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Posted: Sat Dec 12, 2015 10:08 pm
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Iᖴ YOᑌ ᑕOᑌᒪᗪ OᑎᒪY ᔕᕮᕮ Tᕼᕮ ᗷᕮᗩᔕT YOᑌ'ᐯᕮ ᗰᗩᗪᕮ Oᖴ ᗰᕮXXXXXXXI ᕼᕮᒪᗪ IT Iᑎ ᗷᑌT ᑎOᗯ IT ᔕᕮᕮᗰᔕ YOᑌ'ᐯᕮ ᔕᕮT IT ᖇᑌᑎᑎIᑎG ᖴᖇᕮᕮ
ᔕᑕᖇᕮᗩᗰIᑎG Iᑎ Tᕼᕮ ᗪᗩᖇK I ᕼOᗯᒪ ᗯᕼᕮᑎ ᗯᕮ'ᖇᕮ ᗩᑭᗩᖇTXXXXXXᗪᖇᗩG ᗰY TᕮᕮTᕼ ᗩᑕᖇOᔕᔕ YOᑌᖇ ᑕᕼᕮᔕT TO TᗩᔕTᕮ YOᑌᖇ ᗷᕮᗩTIᑎG ᕼᕮᗩᖇT
XAVIAR RYANXXXX
BANE PACK MEMBER
G E N D E R ┆ Male
A G E ┆ Twenty Four
F A M I L Y ┆ N/A
M A T E ┆ Unofficially Courting
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Tᕼᕮ ᔕᗩIᑎTᔕ ᑕᗩᑎ'T ᕼᕮᒪᑭ ᗰᕮ ᑎOᗯ Tᕼᕮ ᖇOᑭᕮᔕ ᕼᗩᐯᕮ ᗷᕮᕮᑎ ᑌᑎᗷOᑌᑎᗪXXXXXI ᕼᑌᑎT ᖴOᖇ YOᑌ ᗯITᕼ ᗷᒪOOᗪY ᖴᕮᕮT ᗩᑕᖇOᔕᔕ Tᕼᕮ ᕼᗩᒪᒪOᗯᕮᗪ GᖇOᑌᑎᗪ
P E R S O N A L I T Y ┆
Flamboyant, is one way to describe me, because I sure as hell am not shy. I might be considered to have dual personalities, because although I like to party, I know how to be responsible in handling little ones. I have a magnetic draw to danger, and although parts of my life are in the past, I can't forget. My duty comes before my wants and desires. I have a particular soft spot for the little kids, and they can often bend my will better than many others. I can be stubborn in my decisions, but am also extremely protective of those I am charged to care for. Don't get on my bad side and we're all good.
B I O G R A P H Y ┆
Growing up wasn't all sunshine and roses. I was the second boy in a set of twins. My older brother beat me out of the womb by an hour. I don't really think he's that much older, but if calling him the older brother floats his boat, then far be it from me to stop his ego. My mother, devoted and dependent on my father worked straight off the bat at making sure we were healthy baby boys. I was told we were the light of her life, but I'm not sure if that was ever the case. See, I don't remember infancy, but from being a toddler, and what I can remember, my mother was a stone cold addict. No question about it. It's a miracle Xynos and I weren't brain dead out of the womb. I don't know if our Mama ever dropped that crack pipe after we were able to waddle and cry when we needed something. She sure as hell wasn't present whenever my father came home. The worst part about it, was he let her indulge in that s**t without a word about it. I guess I don't have much room to complain. I always had clothes on my back and food in my mouth when I needed it.
If my wandering sexuality was ever a problem, the only one lucid enough to deal with it was my father. And of course, Xynos, because I'll tell you, my brother could be a huge d**k when it came to teasing. Being so close- being twins, he knew exactly what would get to me, and what I would be able to brush off. It was only Xynos that ever really got in deep digs and got away with it. If the other kids picked on me, even as we grew, Xynos had my back, making sure that the kids that made fun of me always paid some sort of price. I knew I was different, that liking boys and girls wasn't exactly something that was terribly common growing up, not as freely accepted as it is now, but still something manageable. It was the one huge difference between myself and my twin. We couldn't' even bridge that gap. There would be understanding, but things wouldn't be exactly the same. It wouldn't be a brotherly exchange that we could share. I would always be the one chasing the boys as much as the girls, even if I couldn't find them, of if they were straight and I chased fruitlessly. Xynos would stick to the ladies, and I would gladly pick up the slack and play both sides. It's just natural to me.
When it came to my eighth year, I watched my mother, addicted past the ability to recognize her family from shadows that only she could see, descend further into her madness. Shakes came if she didn't hit that pipe at least twice a day, and sometimes sneaked in anyways. She used needles too, but always said holding something made the high seem more effective. made it last longer. All it did was make the house smell like hell, and keep my mother occupied on the nothingness inside her mind. The world we could not see. There was no admittance for us. Finally, after watching her descent deeper and deeper, she was gone. Vanished under the weight of her addiction. The correct diagnosis was overdose, of course, but when the paramedics asked if we knew the seller that had supplied her, we had no answers. My father had no answers for the cops, though he had all the answers. He couldn't tell the police who had been the supplier, as it had been he, himself, that had fed my other's habit for years and years. He, who had let her smoke and inject more and more, until her mind had collapsed on itself. Until her frail heart stopped it's ability to beat. But I wasn't overwhelmed with sadness. I didn't think she was ever really a mother worth keeping. What kind of parent abandoned their child plainly, for the choice of a drug or vice, knowing that it would only tear them apart slowly? Surely not one that was worth anything.
It's probably the one thing that made me rank up in the pack. Our family had always resided in Sterling. We laid low, and helped dear old dad manage his accounts, keeping our abilities a secret. Dad didn't know how the big pack in town would treat us, not abiding by human laws. Surely, they wouldn't take kindly to werewolves helping kill off humans through other vices. We were careful. It was hard, and undoubtedly someone knew about us, but either couldn't pinpoint us exactly, or just left us alone. Dear old dad had his protection too, with so many humans swarming in and out of the town, his operation was a great distraction. When he passed, he left the ring to his two sons. Xynos, being older, was the one who took most of the work, ruling his kingdom with an iron fist. The bigger the ring got, the harder it was to keep cover. Instead, when the Bane pack rolled into town, I joined up. It pissed Xynos off, and he called me a coward, said I needed to get my priorities aligned with my loyalties. He couldn't understand that i was doing this to protect him. I was still the big bad wolf to his teeth. The sword to his hand. I was the one who doled out punishments alongside him when his men went astray.
I knew what it was to grow up without a good guiding hand, and that's probably what pointed me in the direction of the pups of the Bane pack. Being their protector, and acting as a buffer between them and the harsher world that was banging on their doorstep was what I decided to do with my life. I know that the pack has plenty of protectors, but personally, I made it my own mission to keep them safe in a world where freedom wasn't getting any easier. When Xynos came to me and told me to make a choice, between being Prince of the Drug Ring, or dealing with the pack, I chose the pack. i chose my path away from what he offered. He was furious and told me to get out, to never let him catch my face in the light again. That was three weeks before they found him dead. Without his big bad wolf, apparently, he lost his war. I'll never stop blaming myself for his death, but I'll make a better world for those that I can, so that they never have to deal with the world I knew as a child.
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ᗩ ᗰᗩᑎ ᗯᕼO'ᔕ ᑭᑌᖇᕮ Oᖴ ᕼᕮᗩᖇT ᗩᑎᗪ ᔕᗩYᔕ ᕼIᔕ ᑭᖇᗩYᕮᖇᔕ ᗩT ᑎIGᕼTXXXXXXXXXXXXᗰᗩY ᔕTIᒪᒪ ᗷᕮᑕOᗰᕮ ᗩ ᗯOᒪᖴ ᗯᕼᕮᑎ Tᕼᕮ ᗩᑌTᑌᗰᑎ ᗰOOᑎ Iᔕ ᗷᖇIGᕼT
O T H E R ┆
☾ Xaviar, is pansexual. He keeps sexuality to himself, because the kids don't need to know that kind of crap. He's a stickler for being age appropriate around the children. He also likes music and tends to move around singing to people when he feels like it.
☾ Xaviar is trained to be fierce as a fighter, but really, he'd rather be a lover, playing and protecting kids, but if called to battle, he'll act and kill. No mercy would be given if someone hurt one of the pack's children, or any child really.
☾ Xaviar now has real blood on his hands with the bane craziness and his mercy kill of Araceli.
☾ Xaviar is developing feelings for Avery.
✒️ 「 Stellaluna Skywind 」
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Posted: Sat Dec 12, 2015 10:11 pm
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Iᖴ YOᑌ ᑕOᑌᒪᗪ OᑎᒪY ᔕᕮᕮ Tᕼᕮ ᗷᕮᗩᔕT YOᑌ'ᐯᕮ ᗰᗩᗪᕮ Oᖴ ᗰᕮXXXXXXXI ᕼᕮᒪᗪ IT Iᑎ ᗷᑌT ᑎOᗯ IT ᔕᕮᕮᗰᔕ YOᑌ'ᐯᕮ ᔕᕮT IT ᖇᑌᑎᑎIᑎG ᖴᖇᕮᕮ
ᔕᑕᖇᕮᗩᗰIᑎG Iᑎ Tᕼᕮ ᗪᗩᖇK I ᕼOᗯᒪ ᗯᕼᕮᑎ ᗯᕮ'ᖇᕮ ᗩᑭᗩᖇTXXXXXXᗪᖇᗩG ᗰY TᕮᕮTᕼ ᗩᑕᖇOᔕᔕ YOᑌᖇ ᑕᕼᕮᔕT TO TᗩᔕTᕮ YOᑌᖇ ᗷᕮᗩTIᑎG ᕼᕮᗩᖇT
KONSTANZE WYMARXXXX
BANE ELDER
G E N D E R ┆ Female
A G E ┆ Too Damn Old (Eighty Six)
F A M I L Y ┆ Alwyn Wymar - Grandson; Avery Wymar - Granddaughter
M A T E ┆ Deceased
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Tᕼᕮ ᔕᗩIᑎTᔕ ᑕᗩᑎ'T ᕼᕮᒪᑭ ᗰᕮ ᑎOᗯ Tᕼᕮ ᖇOᑭᕮᔕ ᕼᗩᐯᕮ ᗷᕮᕮᑎ ᑌᑎᗷOᑌᑎᗪXXXXXI ᕼᑌᑎT ᖴOᖇ YOᑌ ᗯITᕼ ᗷᒪOOᗪY ᖴᕮᕮT ᗩᑕᖇOᔕᔕ Tᕼᕮ ᕼᗩᒪᒪOᗯᕮᗪ GᖇOᑌᑎᗪ
P E R S O N A L I T Y ┆
Stubborn, cranky, and mysterious are only a few words the describe Konstanze. She is an old woman, and by that, very set in her ways. Her heart is huge, and has been damaged many a times. She is not as wistful or forgiving as she used to be. Nowadays, she is more quiet and closed off. She does not tolerate excuses, having seen many of the terrible things life has offered. She is territorial and closed off, speaking only to her grandchildren and very few others, and only on strenuous occasions. She is short tempered and moody, giving her sass and flair to where she goes. She's very blunt on the arguments. You can try, but you will not win.
B I O G R A P H Y ┆
Born at a time where the world was preparing for another war, Konstanze was born in Neuenbürg, Germany. As a girl, she went to school, just as they normal children did. She had no care or creed on the war brewing just beneath her feet. Her own difference were enough to make her realize that she was no different than those that wages war upon others for their race. At nine years old, she dealt with the second world war and all of it's terrors. Neighbors, classmates, even a few pack mates went missing from the streets. In her own home, beneath the floorboards was a safe haven for those hiding form the Nazis, waiting to be trafficked out of the mother land and into different countries. The pack sometimes hid beneath the floorboards as well. Humans, cohabiting with wolves however, was sometimes a problem. Their house could never harbor during full moons. Not even on the most desperate of occasions, which made many angry, and casued the loss of life.
Through the war, Konstanze was faced with many different tasks. Her schooling stopped early so she could study medicine under the guise of helping out the armies. She used her trade to help not only those living in her home, but also those who came to her door, seeking medical attention when no others would grant it. She took all forms of payment, not being stingy on what others could afford. If she could give, then those in need would have what they deserved and could take. It was through this that Konstanze met the love of her life. A wounded soldier during the last years of the war came to her, nearly dead, dying on the doorstep as people snuck his body into the bottom of the house. The man was a dark haired German male. Eyes hard as flint. Delirious in his pain, he insulted her countless times, but she sat at his bedside for four days, nursing him slowly back to health. It was a bond that would last a long time. This man was not simply a man. He was also a wolf, just as she was. Form a neighboring pack; he had been left for dead in the war, unable to be reclaimed as he fought the good fight. Their bond was forged in his near death.
With her parents permission, the male was allowed to court her, and eventually they mated. Their pack readjusted to it's new couple, finding a new birth in the youth that began within it. Shortly after, by the mere age of twenty two, Konstanze and her beloved Heinrich had rise to the top of the pack as alpha and consort. They led their small pack through Germany, rebuilding their war torn country one piece of shrapnel at a time. Their families wee enough to keep them motivated, as well as their cause. Though much in love, and even with others in the pack finding love, both human and wolf, they chose not to mate until they found their own spot. Both wolves were in their thirties when their first child came. A boy. Over the span of the next ten years, four more children followed. Two more boys and two girls.
Raising beautiful children in a land torn by war, slowly knitting itself back together was a challenge. With five little ones running around, the two alphas had a very big job. Not only were they in charge of their pack, as they aged, but of it's youth. The children were the most important part, however. It was something Konstanze always told herself. Just as she had made better decisions about her life to help those around her, the children were the adults of tomorrow. She educated her children to the best of her abilities and sent them to school so they would learn how to be proper young people. While her mate ruled the pack, Konstanze herself took pride in her work as a healer and did her part for the pack in that manner.
As the couple continued to age, their children went off to do bigger and better things, including leaving the pack they had so carefully crafted for them. Konstanze would not begrudge them their futures, just as her parents had let her make her own. She blessed each child as they left. Her oldest boy, at just the age of twenty set out to become the alpha of another pack. His brother just behind him was the one that at Konstanze's fifty-fifth year alerted her that she had lost a son. So soon after his birth, before he had lived, she was putting a child in the ground. Before his time. Before her own. No child should ever go before their parents, and here she was, putting her first born into the earth. It was the first time that she and her mate fought. In their grief they turn to one another, although the fight was short lived, preferring to spend their grief with each other, instead of at each other's throats.
Her second son went out to find his own pack with his mate, taking on a more rigid law for life. The Hale pack had issued their laws long ago, but it was the first time Konstanze had to deal with them. She simply allowed her son to lead his life, knowing that his path had been chosen and there was not much she could do to dissuade him from such. Her first daughter was given away to a male who promised to keep her safe. When she came of age, they were in love and she was mated off, but their pack was attacked, and not too far after, Konstanze was putting two of her daughters into the ground. To lose two children in one attack was far worse than her first loss. To answer such a loss, her husband went out to track down the alpha of the enemy pack. It took him several years. He killed the alpha, and both Konstanze and her beloved Heinrich decided it was time to step down from their own pack, and let the children handle the rest. With their pack secured, Konstanze and Heinrich sought out another hideaway in Germany where they could age in peace and watch their children grow.
At sixty-one, the two elderly wolves discovered that they were to be grandparents. Overjoyed with the new generation, both went for a visit to their eldest living son, to see him and his mate and their new grandchild. The bond was struck,and Alwyn very much had his grandparents wrapped around his small little fingers. The following year his brother Dyson was born. And four years following, the happy grandparents welcomed a darling granddaughter into the fold. Their lives were happy, and full of life and meaning. It was hard, when at sixty-eight, Konstanze woke up and her beloved Heinrich did not. A heart attack had snuck upon him in the night, and he had not seen morning. The grandmother, despite the love for her children and grandchildren withdrew from them to coat her own grief. Burying her husband in their family plot, alongside their eldest son and two daughters, the woman became practically reclusive for a few years. She could not stay away long form her grandchildren, but she busied herself with helping others and traveling so she would not have to go home to an empty house.
When Alwyn began speaking of the female he wished to mate, hope bloomed anew in Konstanze's heart. A fresh love like this for her beloved grandson would be good. However, the alpha of this pack followed the beliefs of Hale. Fraternizing with a human would be unacceptable. In his rage, Alwyn killed the alpha. Konstanze feared for her grandson. The Hale pack was huge and had been around for very long. There would be no way for him to avoid their wrath indefinitely. When his parents had not stepped in to help him, Konstanze moved to offer, but found herself being watched. She could not lift her help to her grandson either. Instead she tried her best to run the Hale tracker's off his trail, making false calls and doing everything in her power to lead them astray. She thought she had known loss when she buried her children, but looking at her son and his mate, who had condemned their son to death, was a new kind of abandonment. The mother turned her back on her son, vowing that he would pay.
Her heart went to her grandson. Her granddaughter too, went to help Alwyn. Konstanze heard no updates for many months. She had not expected to, but she hoped they would be alright. She prayed to Lupen nightly, although she had never before prayed so vigilantly in her life. Instead, she woke up in the middle of the night to a phone call from her distraught grandson telling her that his mate and unborn child had been murdered in cold blood. And that her precious granddaughter was beaten almost senseless. Konstanze left everything behind to go to her grandchildren. The ones who had defied the law for their right to love.
When Alwyn began moving to strike his forces together, Konstanze supported him in all the ways she could. But she was old. When he began recruiting, she instructed him where to find her, and to come and get her when he was settled in a place. A few years later, when Alwyn chose Sterling as his place of residence, Konstanze left everything behind, including her beloved husband and children in their family plot, and moved to Sterling to be with her grandson and granddaughter. She has been gleefully creating elderly havoc ever since.
With Alwyn finally leading the Bane pack, though her worries often consume her, she has supported him, as well as Avery. Despite many displeasing new additions to the house, the old woman has opened up to a few specific people in her trust. With Alwyn selecting a mate, and Konstanze's health starting to fail, although she won't admit it to her anyone, she hopes there will soon be grandbabies, or at least new life in Alwyn's pack before she passes.
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ᗩ ᗰᗩᑎ ᗯᕼO'ᔕ ᑭᑌᖇᕮ Oᖴ ᕼᕮᗩᖇT ᗩᑎᗪ ᔕᗩYᔕ ᕼIᔕ ᑭᖇᗩYᕮᖇᔕ ᗩT ᑎIGᕼTXXXXXXXXXXXXᗰᗩY ᔕTIᒪᒪ ᗷᕮᑕOᗰᕮ ᗩ ᗯOᒪᖴ ᗯᕼᕮᑎ Tᕼᕮ ᗩᑌTᑌᗰᑎ ᗰOOᑎ Iᔕ ᗷᖇIGᕼT
O T H E R ┆
☾ Call her grandma. Do not call her Konstanze or ma'am.
☾ Grandma stare is like death. Do not tempt it.
☾ She speaks mostly German and has a heavy accent. Don't be surprised if she can not understand other languages or words.
☾ She's very intuitive.
☾ She likes only a handful of people.
✒️ 「 Stellaluna Skywind 」
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StellaLuna SkyWind Captain
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StellaLuna SkyWind Captain
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Posted: Sat Dec 12, 2015 10:13 pm
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Iᖴ YOᑌ ᑕOᑌᒪᗪ OᑎᒪY ᔕᕮᕮ Tᕼᕮ ᗷᕮᗩᔕT YOᑌ'ᐯᕮ ᗰᗩᗪᕮ Oᖴ ᗰᕮXXXXXXXI ᕼᕮᒪᗪ IT Iᑎ ᗷᑌT ᑎOᗯ IT ᔕᕮᕮᗰᔕ YOᑌ'ᐯᕮ ᔕᕮT IT ᖇᑌᑎᑎIᑎG ᖴᖇᕮᕮ
ᔕᑕᖇᕮᗩᗰIᑎG Iᑎ Tᕼᕮ ᗪᗩᖇK I ᕼOᗯᒪ ᗯᕼᕮᑎ ᗯᕮ'ᖇᕮ ᗩᑭᗩᖇTXXXXXXᗪᖇᗩG ᗰY TᕮᕮTᕼ ᗩᑕᖇOᔕᔕ YOᑌᖇ ᑕᕼᕮᔕT TO TᗩᔕTᕮ YOᑌᖇ ᗷᕮᗩTIᑎG ᕼᕮᗩᖇT
PERSEPHONE GIESEXXXX
HALE TRACKER
G E N D E R ┆ Female
A G E ┆ Twenty Four
F A M I L Y ┆ Open for plotting
M A T E ┆ Plotted
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Tᕼᕮ ᔕᗩIᑎTᔕ ᑕᗩᑎ'T ᕼᕮᒪᑭ ᗰᕮ ᑎOᗯ Tᕼᕮ ᖇOᑭᕮᔕ ᕼᗩᐯᕮ ᗷᕮᕮᑎ ᑌᑎᗷOᑌᑎᗪXXXXXI ᕼᑌᑎT ᖴOᖇ YOᑌ ᗯITᕼ ᗷᒪOOᗪY ᖴᕮᕮT ᗩᑕᖇOᔕᔕ Tᕼᕮ ᕼᗩᒪᒪOᗯᕮᗪ GᖇOᑌᑎᗪ
P E R S O N A L I T Y ┆
Persephone is a take charge kind of person, with a "better to ask forgiveness than permission" mantra. She works hard to uphold the rights and laws that the pack doles out. Her actions are a match for her words, as she doesn't say much of anything that she does not sincerely mean. That said, she doesn't take others lightly. She regards business as a serious matter and her duty as something to be upheld. this does not mean that she doesn't know how to have fun. When she's not on call, or actively trying to uphold the laws, she rather kick back and fun. she's still a bit serious, but she enjoys moments of freedom. Letting her hair down comes few and far between. She's loyal, trustworthy, and creative. Her dedication and loyalty are probably her two most prominent traits.
B I O G R A P H Y ┆
Born overseas in the Alsace region of France, Persephone was part of a small pack of wolves that ran in the underground of the region. Her family was two parents and five children, of which, Persephone, born to the name Orianne, was the third child. She has three brothers, two of which are older, one directly younger, and her youngest sibling is a sweet sister. They were one of the larger families in their pack, and her father was up in it's ranks, bringing their family to a higher respect among those of the pack. The children of Gilberte family were not by any means spoiled, but they were not destitute. Both parents worked hard to save for their children's education and ambitions, wanting to grant their children the most normal and painless life that could be granted. They could not change things such as Orianne's eldest brother losing a finger at twelve in an accident, or the fact that their youngest daughter Emilie was a frail girl that needed much care. Yet, they made do.
Orianne, while rough and tough as her brothers, learning to be bother a lady and a fighter was always trying to measure up to her older siblings, she doted especially upon Emilie. Her younger sister was a great light in her life. one smile form the little girl on a bad day, even when her younger brother cut off both of her pigtails and she had to have short hair like a boy, Emilie had a magical sense to her that made Orianne calm. When the frail girl was sick, Orianne was at her side. She did her best to be around whenever she was needed. It was hard for Emilie to go to school outside of the home, leaving was almost impossible with her strange frailty, but Orianne as well as her brothers brought the little girl treats, books, and anything she asked for.
Growing up, this was how things worked. The older siblings helped the younger, and the family was tight knit. It was all dandy until the night Persephone turned sixteen. Studying for exams, Orianne had chosen to devote herself to linguistics. This was not simply the study of languages, as the she wolf had other thoughts in mind. In her spare time, she spent large amounts of time learning computer coding, and was an adequate little hacker. On a night in late June, the summer heat bristling into their cramped but comfortable home, with her eldest brother's mate, and their child sleeping soundly in a room nearby, an alarm was raised. Her father was summoned to a pack meeting, as were her brothers. Orianne was not expressly invited, but managed to sneak in anyways. One of the newer families to join the pack had a son who was of mate-able age. Instead of choosing a mate from the pack as many did, this male had gone after a human girl. And he had bitten her. The most sacred of the pack vows had been broken. There was to be no changing of humans without very careful scrutiny of the matter. It was almost never done, which was why this was such a huge matter. The girl did not want what came with it. She had run from the male, and it was only a matter of time before the pack would be at jeopardy.
There was a great rift of indecision on what should be done about the boy who had bitten the human so carelessly. Many thought they should turn him in to suffer alone, casting him from the pack. His family, and a group of sympathizers thought the punishment was too harsh. The casting vote came from the Male of Gilberte. Orianne's father made the decision that outcasted the boy. Enraged, the father of the boy challenged the father, but the fight was postponed, threatening the accused family's exile. Words were shared, and there was a promise that the end of things had not been seen.
When the boy was cast out, he was hunted. Humans came with guns and fire, pitchforks and silver. Anything they thought would kill the wolves. They attacked the male, but were not satisfied. They began hunting the pack. It was mayhem. Families turned upon families, tearing the very seams of the pack that had been so loyal before this dispute had disrupted the unwrinkled fabric. Instead, families began naming others just to save their skins, creating rumors to turn trails cold in the night. Not only would it tear the pack apart, but individual families would be torn apart as well.
Deeming it too explosive to be safe for his mate and child, Orianne's eldest brother moved from the family with promises to let them know where he settled once they had. Her second brother stuck to their father, as his shadow to protect their family. Her mother suggested that she leave with the three younger children so that they would be safe. Her father would not allow it, insisting that there would be strength in numbers. He wanted his family together, so he could better protect them while still doing his duty to the pack. However, the Gilberte family was reported as a suspicious family.
The humans came, with guns, bullets, fire, and pitchforks. The Gilberte family went for the tunnels in a panic, splitting up. The father and eldest son going one way, the mother and youngest boy another, and Orianne was charged with Emilie, carrying her piggy back towards safety. They would meet at a safe house outside the city. Frail as she was, Emilie was not ready for the horrible jarring that escaping would bring. Being a girl of ten, she was quite frightened. By terrible fortune, or their noisy escape, the humans found the tunnel that Orianne and Emilie had escaped in. They chased on. Feeling threatened was causing both their wolves to become more alert. Far more ready to shift and change, the tunnel became tighter and the need to flee more apparent. Orianne could practically smell the shift coming on her younger sister and worried that it would be hard upon her, and the danger that they would face if she did indeed shift.
Orianne raced faster, trying to keep her sister safe. The end of the tunnel was coming quickly. She could almost see it. Then she saw the grate. Blocking their exit. there would have to be another way. Taking an offshoot, the sisters continued. Coming into an alcove, Orianne dropped her sister in. taking only moments to steady herself and find her bearings, she looked back to the young girl who trembled with the need to shift. Orianne shook her head, whispering comforts as loudly as she dared, kissing her forehead before picking her up again. The humans seemed to have lost their trail. Orianne didn't trust it. She headed through the tunnel, finding another exit. It lead through a foul smelling pipe that let out far east of the village, close to the river Rhine. If she could make it across the river, she'd be safe, and in German lands. the french wouldn't cross, not until morning. Not until they felt safe to do so. She moved faster towards the river, cresting a hill that led towards the river when the shot rang out. Another followed. A yelp escaped the older girl's lips and they tumbled into the swift moving river.
As the cold water took them downstream, Orianne kept her sister afloat. She tugged the little girl's body to her, trying to swim them to safety on the shore. She heard shouts and pulled them underwater, trying to make it look as if the shots had hit their marks and killed both girls. There was burning in her shoulder already, so there was undoubtedly blood in the water if it could be seen in the dim evening light. No moon shone in the sky, as if it too had turned her face upon the Gilberte family.
Moments passed, turning into hours. She held tightly to Emilie, whispering words to the girl so she wouldn't be afraid. After what seemed like forever, but in reality was only about ten minutes, Orianne pulled herself from the river, along with Emilie. the girl was cold, and her eyes were closed. Orianne feared that it had made her quite sick. She tapped her sisters cheeks , trying to warm her, pushing off the wet blankets wrapped around her. That was when she noticed the small, circular wound in her chest. Blood seeped sluggishly from the wound. Orianne choked on her fears, touching her little sister's arms and hands, trying to wake her, to shake off the fear that was settling in. Only moments had passed and the pain in her shoulder was nothing compared to the pain of breathing while her sister was not. She couldn't look at her father and mother, knowing that it had been her fault that her sister had died. If it had been her own life, she could have managed. But it was her baby sister. The beautiful girl who would never know what it was to live outside once she had conquered what crippled her so in life. Who would never know what it was to hunt prey in fresh snow. To fight another wolf. A little girl who would never know what it was like to live.
Orianne knew there would be nothing for her at home to go back to. Instead, she took her sisters body and pulled it from the shore and into a hollow in the side of the grassy slop they had fallen from yards down. Undoubtedly her parents would find the body. Orianne even sent a silent prayer to Lupen that they would. And with a final three kisses, one to each cheek, and one to Emilie's forehead, Orianne said goodbye.
She found a boat to carry her across the river and spent the next couple of weeks regrouping, getting paperwork together and tying up the loose ends she could. It was better if her family thought she had died. She wouldn't face them again with the guilt. She took only as much time as she needed to heal from her wound. it was a flesh wound really, not too deep with a clean entrance and exit. Once the bullet had been removed and she was steady, she headed south, away from Alsace and France altogether. Heading through Germany, she went east, and then south into Italy. The travels took her a couple of years. She never stayed in the same place more than necessary, afraid that eventually another pack would contact her family if they came in contract with her. She needed to be away from them. She couldn't go back. She needed to be truly dead to them.
A boat across the channel to Greece made the change permanent. In her brief studies there, she learned of the Queen of the Underworld, Persephone. It was then that the girl from France disappeared, to be nothing more than an accent and a memory. Orianne Gilberte became Persephone Giese, using the ancient masculine form of her surname, the only piece of her family she kept, Persephone became a new person. She couldn't stay in Europe. Some part of her told her that, and when she caught news of the Hale pack and their historic laws and traditions, she figured that would be where she went. Finding someone to make her papers for her new identity, the girl fled Europe with a promise at a new life, and a chance to make it for herself in a new way.
It was not easy, by any means. Getting to Sterling, the place that the Hale pack was rumored to be, was something else. It wasn't because her English was far from flawless, but survival itself was hard. Even at twenty one, it was hard to get a job, or find a way to make money. She was bilingual, which strangely helped her, but it was not necessarily a selling point when jobs asked if she had a permanent address or wanted to see school transcripts. Saying she had nearly obtained a degree was nothing if she could not prove it. Instead, she began hacking and writing code, which made her a bit of money, but not nearly enough to survive. Eventually, when she found the Hale pack, she discovered they had rivals. their purpose was policing other packs and taking care of criminals. their laws were absolute, and Persephone could not find anything in her that went against the laws. Humans would ruin everything, the pack needed to be protected at all costs. She would devote herself to that purpose.
She was by no means readily accepted into the pack either. It took work and skill. She lost many fights before she started winning. She was fast and her style was different. She used that to her advantage, keeping her body peaked so that she could move lithe and swift like a dancer, but with the deadly force necessary to make killing blows. Her skills with a computer helped her as well. If she wanted to find someone, normally, if she tried, she could do so. When she was a wolf, her nose had the same sort of goal, finding her prey to make the kill, or find who she was looking for. It was something that helped her become a tracker. By no means is she perfect, or in anyway wanting any role above what she has now, but her loyalty and determination to her pack and it's purpose are unfailing and will remain so.
With the battle between the Ukufa, coupled with losing her virginity to Seth and nearly losing her life, many things have become crystal clear for the young tracker. Her sister's visit has opened a new door, and er second chance at life has made it clear that if she does not act on her impulses she will miss them. She strives to be even more take charge in the future.
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ᗩ ᗰᗩᑎ ᗯᕼO'ᔕ ᑭᑌᖇᕮ Oᖴ ᕼᕮᗩᖇT ᗩᑎᗪ ᔕᗩYᔕ ᕼIᔕ ᑭᖇᗩYᕮᖇᔕ ᗩT ᑎIGᕼTXXXXXXXXXXXXᗰᗩY ᔕTIᒪᒪ ᗷᕮᑕOᗰᕮ ᗩ ᗯOᒪᖴ ᗯᕼᕮᑎ Tᕼᕮ ᗩᑌTᑌᗰᑎ ᗰOOᑎ Iᔕ ᗷᖇIGᕼT
O T H E R ┆
☾ Persephone speak French, German, and English fluently. She can speak other languages such as Spanish and Italian conversationally, and is studying others.
☾ She's a whiz at computers. But it's a lazy habit, not one that she hones everyday like fighting and working out.
☾ She has a scar on her right shoulder from where the bullet entered and exited that she keeps under clothing and to herself if she can help it.
☾ She now has many more scars across her body that she hopes with time will disappear.
✒️ 「 STELLALUNA SKYWIND 」
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Posted: Sat Dec 12, 2015 10:18 pm
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Iᖴ YOᑌ ᑕOᑌᒪᗪ OᑎᒪY ᔕᕮᕮ Tᕼᕮ ᗷᕮᗩᔕT YOᑌ'ᐯᕮ ᗰᗩᗪᕮ Oᖴ ᗰᕮXXXXXXXI ᕼᕮᒪᗪ IT Iᑎ ᗷᑌT ᑎOᗯ IT ᔕᕮᕮᗰᔕ YOᑌ'ᐯᕮ ᔕᕮT IT ᖇᑌᑎᑎIᑎG ᖴᖇᕮᕮ
ᔕᑕᖇᕮᗩᗰIᑎG Iᑎ Tᕼᕮ ᗪᗩᖇK I ᕼOᗯᒪ ᗯᕼᕮᑎ ᗯᕮ'ᖇᕮ ᗩᑭᗩᖇTXXXXXXᗪᖇᗩG ᗰY TᕮᕮTᕼ ᗩᑕᖇOᔕᔕ YOᑌᖇ ᑕᕼᕮᔕT TO TᗩᔕTᕮ YOᑌᖇ ᗷᕮᗩTIᑎG ᕼᕮᗩᖇT
BRONWYN LANEXXXX
HALE YEARLING
G E N D E R ┆ Female
A G E ┆ Fourteen
F A M I L Y ┆ Gema Silvers - Honorary Sister; Father - Deceased (open for potential plotting on some others)
M A T E ┆ Too Young
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Tᕼᕮ ᔕᗩIᑎTᔕ ᑕᗩᑎ'T ᕼᕮᒪᑭ ᗰᕮ ᑎOᗯ Tᕼᕮ ᖇOᑭᕮᔕ ᕼᗩᐯᕮ ᗷᕮᕮᑎ ᑌᑎᗷOᑌᑎᗪXXXXXI ᕼᑌᑎT ᖴOᖇ YOᑌ ᗯITᕼ ᗷᒪOOᗪY ᖴᕮᕮT ᗩᑕᖇOᔕᔕ Tᕼᕮ ᕼᗩᒪᒪOᗯᕮᗪ GᖇOᑌᑎᗪ
P E R S O N A L I T Y ┆
Fiery, Stubborn, Hard-headed, Dedicated, and Opinionated. Bryn is a typical teen. She has a mouth on her and doesn't like to be told she's wrong. A fierce competitor, and a rather sore loser. Bryn's true heart of hearts is pure and loyal, but because of losing her parents, and being thrust into situations forcing her to grow up much to fast, there is a rage within her that still burns true and long. Passion speaks through her actions, and she has developed a mentality that she'll die trying before she quits or fails. She's impulsive and rash, volatile in a way, but determined to quell her vengeance and fierce to prove herself a worthy member of the pack. Pride, without too much arrogance.
B I O G R A P H Y ┆
It all started with a man in the Irish mob, and a flame haired Irish lass who fell in love. Maybe it had never been intentional, but the outcome was inevitable. Love was rampant, and passion led from one thing to another, and a child with a mop of brown curls was born into the world. It wasn't long after the birth of the young Irish girl that the man left his fiery lass for a different sort of life. His reasoning was that it would give the child a better life, but it left behind a scorned woman. A scorned Irish woman at that. The woman, Maeve, raised her daughter alone, with only the help of her parents for supervision. She was the breadwinner and the fighter of the family. Taking care of her child was her first priority. Even if Bronwyn's father had left, she would make certain that the girl would grow up well. His reasons didn't matter. She would raise her daughter the right way.
When the girl turned eight, the mob began to have its upheavals once again. Fearing for the life of her daughter, Maeve did everything in her power to track down Bryn's father and see if he had a safer place for his daughter. Once she had confirmed the location, Maeve made arrangements to have her daughter shipped to the strange place after her father. With a kiss, hug, and a token so her father would know, Maeve shipped her daughter off with the hopes that she would be safer in her father's protection than in Ireland where the world was falling apart.
At first, Bronwyn was devastated. She hated being away form her mother. Hated the idea of going to live with her father who she had never met. Instead, she was quiet. She only dealt with the children of the pack, specifically Jojo, and eventually, their constant tail known as Gema. After a while, Bronwyn became an absolute daddy's girl. She followed him around, learned how to hold, load, and shoot a gun, and decided that she would take over his position when she was old enough to have one in the pack. She has spent the last few years training to be assimilated fully into the pack, giving Jojo hell, and watching after Gema on occasion when she didn't feel Jojo was paying attention.
With the genocide of the Ukufa pack, Bryn has been forced to grow up very quickly. Knowing in her heart that her whole pack was murdered in cold blood, a vengeance and bitterness settled upon her like a cloak she cannot shake. Since her assimilation to the Hale pack and her loss of one of her closest friends, she has been forced to develop other relationships. Working with Calista, and Seth, she is starting to become more proper and well behaved, despite her quick temper and terse anger.
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ᗩ ᗰᗩᑎ ᗯᕼO'ᔕ ᑭᑌᖇᕮ Oᖴ ᕼᕮᗩᖇT ᗩᑎᗪ ᔕᗩYᔕ ᕼIᔕ ᑭᖇᗩYᕮᖇᔕ ᗩT ᑎIGᕼTXXXXXXXXXXXXᗰᗩY ᔕTIᒪᒪ ᗷᕮᑕOᗰᕮ ᗩ ᗯOᒪᖴ ᗯᕼᕮᑎ Tᕼᕮ ᗩᑌTᑌᗰᑎ ᗰOOᑎ Iᔕ ᗷᖇIGᕼT
O T H E R ┆
☾ Bryn knows she's in trouble when her name "Bronwyn" is used. She abhors anyone using it, especially if the person is not an older pack member.
☾ She takes after her father, in an attempt to mimic him and be strong like him, and has begun to work with guns under his supervision. She knows how to load, lock, and pull the trigger if necessary. But only the single gun he has showed her how to use. (Beretta U22 Neo).
☾ Bryn had an idea of family and everyone staying together that she was not going to let go, but life has begun to show her different paths.
✒️ 「 STELLALUNA SKYWIND 」
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StellaLuna SkyWind Captain
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StellaLuna SkyWind Captain
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Posted: Sat Dec 12, 2015 10:21 pm
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Iᖴ YOᑌ ᑕOᑌᒪᗪ OᑎᒪY ᔕᕮᕮ Tᕼᕮ ᗷᕮᗩᔕT YOᑌ'ᐯᕮ ᗰᗩᗪᕮ Oᖴ ᗰᕮXXXXXXXI ᕼᕮᒪᗪ IT Iᑎ ᗷᑌT ᑎOᗯ IT ᔕᕮᕮᗰᔕ YOᑌ'ᐯᕮ ᔕᕮT IT ᖇᑌᑎᑎIᑎG ᖴᖇᕮᕮ
ᔕᑕᖇᕮᗩᗰIᑎG Iᑎ Tᕼᕮ ᗪᗩᖇK I ᕼOᗯᒪ ᗯᕼᕮᑎ ᗯᕮ'ᖇᕮ ᗩᑭᗩᖇTXXXXXXᗪᖇᗩG ᗰY TᕮᕮTᕼ ᗩᑕᖇOᔕᔕ YOᑌᖇ ᑕᕼᕮᔕT TO TᗩᔕTᕮ YOᑌᖇ ᗷᕮᗩTIᑎG ᕼᕮᗩᖇT
PHILOMELA ODANXXXX
BANE PACK MEMBER
G E N D E R ┆ Female
A G E ┆ Twenty Three
F A M I L Y ┆ Open for Plotting
M A T E ┆ Open for Plotting
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Tᕼᕮ ᔕᗩIᑎTᔕ ᑕᗩᑎ'T ᕼᕮᒪᑭ ᗰᕮ ᑎOᗯ Tᕼᕮ ᖇOᑭᕮᔕ ᕼᗩᐯᕮ ᗷᕮᕮᑎ ᑌᑎᗷOᑌᑎᗪXXXXXI ᕼᑌᑎT ᖴOᖇ YOᑌ ᗯITᕼ ᗷᒪOOᗪY ᖴᕮᕮT ᗩᑕᖇOᔕᔕ Tᕼᕮ ᕼᗩᒪᒪOᗯᕮᗪ GᖇOᑌᑎᗪ
P E R S O N A L I T Y ┆
Philomela is a definite piece of work. She's a take charge kind of girl, with a competitive nature. Whether that stems from her chosen schooling, or the fact that she's had to deal with a lot on her own, no one really can tell. She's meticulous in her mannerisms, especially when working in a kitchen, preferring things to be neat, and orderly. She's very observant and calculating, watching to know strategically where to strike, rather than being completely volatile. However, she is rather feisty, and won't back down so easily from a fight, especially when she knows she can win. She owns her determination, works hard, and isn't afraid to get her hands dirty when necessary. Despite the hard a** in her, she's also pretty fun loving and fun to be around. She likes to crack jokes and be sarcastic. She also doesn't mind having a glass of wine here or there to settle nerves, or just to have fun. She's always up for a challenge, loves being around people in general, and won't think twice about a call to battle whether that be literal or theoretical.
B I O G R A P H Y ┆
Two fine, upstanding individuals met once upon a time, and fell in love with one another. One, a soldier. The other, his bonny lass. Life was hard for the young couple,. Great distances often kept them at odds early into their relationship. They were rather old fashioned, and despite their love for each other, they didn't rush into any sort of relationship or marriage. Instead, they waited patiently, and around hie leave and between tours, they planned a wedding that would be small and comfy, just like the life they eventually wished to have. Before they knew it, life was passing them by. The man had served his country well. He was close to his mark to leave, and he was ready to settle down. His beautiful wife at home, a baby girl on the way. A few years was all that was between him and a modest life at home with his beloved little family. And if they waned to expand, so be it.
The baby was born while the father was away, but he came home soon as he could. His princess, given a name that was old fashioned, just like himself and his wife. And he loved her deeply. A perfectly normal, all american family. They went to church on Sundays, cooked meals, were upstanding members of the community. Completely average. The man went back , leaving his daughter and wife as he was supposed to. His daughter was two, and his wife was happily at home, working and raising their child. This departure would be rough, but they would be safe and happy. Just a short time left until she would stop worrying whether a call would come, or someone would show up on her doorstep to deliver her bad news. Everything would be safe. Everything would be fine. They would be perfect and happy and their little family would prosper. That was, until her worst nightmares came true. She had just put her baby girl to sleep, complete with a story and getting tucked in. She had been in the kitchen, mixing up the batter for a cake. They were going to celebrate going to school. The little girl was nervous, but her mother would make sure she knew that it was okay. That her father would want her to be fearless. A knock came to the door, and the woman brought her bowl, making sure to stir, waiting for stiff peaks in her batter. When she saw the man, she froze. When he said he was sorry, she dropped the bowl and collapsed, wails coming form her frail form.
That was only the beginning. The woman turned into a shell of herself, and the young girl was left with a big name and no one to really look after her. Instead, her grandma came to stay with them, leaving behind a job and bringing a cat. The elder took care of her granddaughter, and her daughter, making sure they were fed, and that bills were paid. She coaxed her daughter to movement once more, but the woman never looked at her daughter the same way. It wasn't that she didn't love her daughter, but more that the memories were too heart breaking. The pictures came down, the memorabilia packed away. The only remembrance of her father at all the triangular flag folded inside of a glass case, sitting on the shelf that severed as the mantle above the fireplace that was never lit. The mother went to work, and Philomela, or Mey, as she called herself after ridicule for her full name, went to school and helped with chores. She was raised mostly under her grandmother's mannerisms and iron fist. But it was through this relationship that Mey developed her love of cooking. It was what she wanted to do. So she got good grades in school so she could go where she wanted once she'd graduated high school.
It was a long ride, but when she finished, she was set. Her grandmother and mother saw her off as she took her passport and went abroad, heading for Italy. She spent two years of her life in the Tuscan countryside learning the culinary prowess of the Italians. It was there that she thought she might make her permanent home. She was going to travel to Paris to study pastry, and then she would return to Italy to make her home and open a restaurant that she would run the kitchen for herself. She applied for a very well known pastry school in France and had been admitted to the program when she received word that her grandma had fallen ill and didn't have much time left. Instead of going to France, Mey went home to care for her grandmother. America wasn't so much of a home to her anymore after seeing the wonders of the world. But she stayed at her grandmother's bedside, saying that she wouldn't go back to finish. That she would stay to take care of her Nan, but the elderly woman had another thing coming for her granddaughter.
She vowed that if Mey quit her dreams, the woman would die faster, just to make sure she could come back and hunt her grand daughter for the est of her days. Mey was not to waste opportunities given to her. She was to excel at the chances she had been granted in life. And so, regretfully, the young woman made plans to go back to Europe, to France, so that she could finish her culinary schooling. The night before she left, she went out the bar. The city was bustling, but it wasn't magical anymore. She was torn between the quiet life of taking care of her mother and grandmother, or going back to the majestic Tuscan countryside for her dreams which seemed to slip further and further away. She met a man. They had a drink, and discovered that they were bother heading for Paris in the morning. With laughs, it was the start of a relationship. The two had a lot in common. They both loved the art of the French in it's various forms. While Mey loved food, the man loved music. They traveled together, and ended up in the same building for residency. Soon, they developed a stronger relationship. One that held romance. The man was a little strange, and quite possessive, but Mey discredited it often, given his charm.
After two years, they celebrated the end of Mey's training and her certification as a pastry chef. She was still learning, as any chef would, but she had now become a pseudo-master of french pastry and Italian hot dishes. She was ultimately unstoppable as a chef, and when she shared her ambitions of going back to Italy, she and her lover argued. He didn't wish to go. In fact, he wanted her to stay. He spoke of a potential engagement, but only on the condition she could stay. Remembering her grandmother's words of not giving up on her dreams, she told the man their relationship would end then. The man got violent and while she left, the man pursued. She managed to get on a rain and leave the country, thinking she was done with the man, but it would not be so. He followed her back to Italy, showing up only a week later at the hostel she stayed at and again, a conversation turned violent. This time, the man couldn't contain his true nature, and bit Mey, leaving her to become a monster of fur and fangs, or to die alone in the street.
She was sick for weeks, dealing the fevers and delirious behavior for weeks as the moon went through it's cycles to full. When it finally came, she was alone, and thought she was dying. Cold, scared for her life, and alone, she went through her transition, screaming in pain as she turned into something far worse than she had ever imagined. Her dreams of becoming a chef were over. Ruined. She knew it. She didn't know how to contain herself. The man came back then, watching her with a sneer, but his possessiveness only became stronger. He wanted her, but she would not let him have her. She fled the country, playing quite a long game of hide and go seek. She couldn't go home, because the man knew her family was there, and she had no doubt he would hurt them. She had to find somewhere else to go. She didn't know where to find help.
It came when she left the continent and Europe behind her. Heading for Canada, she came upon a town that held more people like her. A man was building his own pack to go against those who did not approve of humans being bitten. She didn't care what he stood for, or what war she found herself in, she needed safety from a man that would hunt her until he possessed her. She joined the Bane pack, working her way up, learning how to fight and defend herself, and offered her skills to the pack when they were needed. They seemed to have their own chef at hand, in the Alpha's grand mother who was so much like her own, but Mey found her place in the pack, being as useful as she could. She hasn't forgotten what ended her up in the pack, safe and sound, but most days, she can forget the fear that brought her to the rag tag bunch of people she thinks of as family.
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ᗩ ᗰᗩᑎ ᗯᕼO'ᔕ ᑭᑌᖇᕮ Oᖴ ᕼᕮᗩᖇT ᗩᑎᗪ ᔕᗩYᔕ ᕼIᔕ ᑭᖇᗩYᕮᖇᔕ ᗩT ᑎIGᕼTXXXXXXXXXXXXᗰᗩY ᔕTIᒪᒪ ᗷᕮᑕOᗰᕮ ᗩ ᗯOᒪᖴ ᗯᕼᕮᑎ Tᕼᕮ ᗩᑌTᑌᗰᑎ ᗰOOᑎ Iᔕ ᗷᖇIGᕼT
O T H E R ┆
Nothing that I can think of now.
✒️ 「 STELLALUNA SKYWIND 」
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