Post by Isilzheha the Impure on Dec 23, 2009 13:56:53 GMT -5
» Izanamii[/color][/size]
'hunt you down without mercy, hunt you down all nightmare long'
Username: Izzy. 8D
Other characters: Isilzheha
Other?: I'M PWNLY.
Gender: Female
Age: Well, she was four when she died.
Species: White Lion
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Element: Water
Familar: Wolf, for agility, courage, and fierceness.
Alliance: Dead
Rank:QueenAWH. Okies. Loner for now, then
Appearance: She's quite large, slender, with muscles packed thick. However, these muscles have detoriated over the years. She has a long, flat tail, slightly bushy at the tip. The tip is also a blondish color. Her eyes are round, like many a big cat's, and they are a pale yellow color, bright. Well, the one eye is. Her other eye is nonexistant, an empty socket with vicious scars around it, showing how the eye came to be missing. Her paws are large, and she has a white-colored pelt. It is thick, and almost pure white. Though, not completely. Around her flanks, and rump, there is a blond color that is prominent. The color most lions have. She has this blond color around her rounded ears, and her paws. Her pads are a dark brown color, and around her shoulders the blond shows as well. She is quite a pretty site to look at. However, the scars make others look away in disgust. On her right side there is a splattering of pinkish-black skin, the fur completely burnt away. Upon her back, it is burnt from her shoulders to about mid back, and it is quite grotesque. It is blackened, burnt, and withered away. On her face, her left cheek to be exact, is a thick scar that had split her cheek wide open. The wound had closed, and it left her cheek looking tucked in and puckered, giving her a half-grimace.
Her neck is a bloody mass, the red spilling with the white, her neck half torn out, and one would know that that was how she was killed. Various scars dot her sides and flanks, though they are nothing compared to the ones seen. This never would have happened if her familiar, a wolf, had been there. The wolf in question is merely named Eera. Her fur is thick and ivory on her underbelly. As it moves toward her sides it slowly fades into a deep gray. The gray reaches along her shoulders runs along the side of her neck and finally moves to ebony around the ears and forehead. Her paws are white, the top of her tail ebony, the sides gray, and the bottom ivory. Her face is masked with a grayish black, and along her flanks there is black stretching over the rump.
One sentence: Maimed and scarred, a discarded broken toy.
Scars, or deformitys?: She has one eye missing, is sterile, and half of her neck is missing. Also, her left cheek has a scar that seems to pin up her cheek, leaving it tucked in, puckered almost. On her right side, there is various burns here and there, the biggest being on her back, which stretches from her shoulder blades to about mid-back.
Personality: She's not outwardly a diabolicle, blood-lusting little wench. She is, of course, but she doesn't advertise it. She's intelligent, and hard to trick and outsmart. There's only one other person that can match her kind of intelligence. And that's her outcast sister Carnage. She's determined, and can be quite the demoness when angered. She's not normally kind, though she doesn't mistreat those she has just met. Unless she feels the need. She's not shy, though she's not a whore...technically. She's got a sick sense of humor, and where's they blood, there's Izanamii. She's not afraid to fight, and likes to provoke some. Even when they aren't consisting of her. She's an instigator, and when there's fighting and drama between mates and brutes, she's sure to be at the center of it all. She just is as she is.
Intrests: Instigating, stubborn wolves, the living big cat's ways, hunting, being in charge, sneaking.
Dislikes: Being disobeyed, being ignored, being attacked for no reason, stubborn creatures, losing a fight, being disrupted in sleep.
History: Nothing interesting really happened until Izanamii was about almost seven months old. That's when Carnage was born. The outcast of the family. She was mixed with a tiger. A tiger and lion mixed, not a purebred lion. She was a wild card. However, Izanamii was always the favored one. The mother and father loved Carnage just fine, but they still thought she was kinda weird. Still, nothing interesting happened after that. Izanamii and Carnage fought with eachother alot. The parents thought they were play fighting, but it went much deeper than that. When they were both one year of age, it was then Carnage grew tired of all the ignorance she recieved. So she went on a rampage, and killed the elderly parents. Izanamii and Carnage fought, and Carnage tried vainly to kill her, too, but Carnage failed. They parted their ways, veering away from eachother as much as possible. They were in the same pack, so it was hard. However, they grew to stop avoiding eachother, and to this day they butt heads every time they see eachother. Nobody has to say anything, and they'll be on eachother faster than white on rice.
This all changed, when Izanamii and Carnage once again parted ways. When Izanamii was four, Carnage came back into the picture. She had the element of fire, so it was contridictory of Izzy's water element. Carnage had grown tired of Izzy being the higher power, and she wanted nothing more than to see Izanamii die. So she attacked her sister, and the two fought. However, Izzy's familiar was out and about, and not there in time to help Izanamii survive. Carnage and her familiar, a bald eagle, conquered Izanamii. Her eye was taken from her skull, leaving scars around the empty socket. Her neck was torn all to hell. Her left cheek was left in ruins, and fire was used to burn her side slightly, her back the most. Izanamii died, watching her sister limp away. However, Izanamii clung to life too fiercly, and did not leave just yet.
RP sample:Isil.Zheha
Hunt You Down Without Mercy, Hunt You Down All Nightmare Long!
[/font][/color][/size].x. It's strange the way the mind thinks, clouded thoughts of a heartless beast. Why did a heartless beast have a clouded mind? Well, I can tell you that one with a shrug of my shoulders and a roll of my burning amber optics. They will be considering what to do the next day. Should they tear into the throat of another wolf, chase down a rabbit, or find a loved one? Well, maybe not loved one. I smirked at the thought, blood-stained incisors holding all the blood and sin that I have shed, commited. I did not care a lick, either. I would get my pound of flesh, my pint of blood. I knew my rights, and some of these wolves that lay within my memory, the body-shack I have set up, have breached my space, my emotions and mentality. It was within my right that I had taken them down, and picked their bones clean. I smirked again, sitting against the tree, shuddering as if caught on some pleasure trip. Neck stretched out, the top of my skull laying upon the tree trunk, blank eyes closed. My brush lapsed across my hind paws, fore legs having done been bleeding for the time being. They would start up again, though I did not care too much. I got what I wanted out of it. Infliction, a power that has helped me hunt when my legs failed me, poison mouth, a sure thing that let me see the pain fade from my victim's eyes, and bone modification, which I have not yet used outside of figuring out what it was for. It allowed a long, ivory bone to protrude from my back, stretching back, thick and immovable. I opened my eyes, their depths flashing with raw need. Raw need for what, you might ask. Well, then I might just tell you.
.x. I needed the taste of flesh, of meat grinding down and sliding down my gullet, spilling my chin and chest with blood and thicker things. I shuddered from the shoulders at the thought, and my maw parted slightly. I let out a slight whine, for I flared my nostrils, and no scent came to my senses. Nothing other than those that have already been and gone. How long until I could watch the fear flash across a face? How long until I can chase my prey and wrap their mind in pain? How long until I can swim in the ribbons of another's death? I flicked my tail, and pushed myself forward, striding forth through the bare trees, their limbs stretching like long, bony digits, threatening me with their rattling, raspy anger. I dismissed them with a flick of my brush, a sweeping step with my wounded fore legs. They did not hurt, as much as they might look it. I relished in the pain, to be exact. It helped me have a clear mind. Not that I needed it. Crown high, ears perked forward, I moved calmly and silently, a predator in these prey-filled areas.
.x. I have been through these woods before. I knew them like the back of my paw. Amber hues searched, searching for my pound of flesh, my pint of blood. A grin spread across my malicious and scarred maw as I tasted the anger on the winds, heard the growl in my ears, and saw the flash of grey, copper, white, and black. I moved closer, confident, not caring what happened. I did not fear death, though it was not something I was anticipating. I had many more things to do, and dying was not one of them...yet. I flicked an ear, sliding through the trees, the ghost of a shadow I had been only moments before. The snarl continued, bitter words biting my mind and into my thought processes. Someone was a angry little wolfie. The thought made me grin harder and wider, teeth bared and not caring at all. I watched her, looking so sulky and angry. It brought a laugh to my chest that did not make it to spill out of my maw. I watched her, head lowering. Perfect. She looked pretty large, and her scent told me Roux. Yet, she was larger than normal. Which, me being an Ixon and larger than average anyway, still put her smaller than me. Perfect indeed. So Celeste was working with me after all. 'And so there was only pup number three.' "My, my, what a bitter, angry little wolfie." I snapped my brush, still within the shadows. See if she challenges me to show myself. I sat back, watching her, waiting.
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