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Post by Isilzheha the Impure on Dec 21, 2009 19:33:01 GMT -5
» Isilzheha
'nature of the leeches, the virgin's feeling cheated'
Username: Izzy, IzzleShizzle, Josh, Issy, Isil. All kindsa stuff. <3
Other characters: Nah
Other?: Uhm...crumpled pieces of paper make me happy?
Gender: Male
Age: four and a half
Species: Indochinese
Sexuality: heterosexual
Element: Fire
Familar: peregrine falcon, for fierceness, quickness, and strength.
Alliance: Living
Rank: Loner
Appearance: He's a big fella. Around nine feet long, and muscle packed hard and compact. He's around 400 pounds, most of it muscle and skin. He has a white color, pure, sitting on his underbelly, and on the insides of his legs. The white stretches up his chest, stopping just below where his neck meets his head. His cheeks have splatters of white as well. The insides of his ears are white, too. Then on his sides, like a saddle, is an orange-tan, mostly orange, that stretches along his back, neck, the top of his head, and spills over his rump. His legs, on the outsides, are the same color. His tail, besides some white at the tips, are the same orange-tan. His face is masked from it. And like most tigers, he is striped, black daggers slashing across his face, his chest, back, some on his legs, and tail. His eyes are a pale yellowish-amber color, round, and wicked. His ears are round, his paws large, all that good stuff.
His familiar is a cunning, fast, and fierce peregrine falcon. His claws are curves and sharp, black to his pale yellow legs. His underbelly is white, his head a grayish-beige, with white splotches along his wings and mid-back. These spots reach down to his tail feathers, which are a darker gray in color. His beak is curved and wicked-looking,
One sentence: Orange-tan, white, with black stripes and wicked personality.
Scars, or deformitys?: He has one scar stretching from his left shoulder down his side to his flank. He has various scars on his flanks and jaws, one scar stretching across his chest diagonally.
Personality: A tough shell guards his spectral inner core. He is sarcastic and witty, always able to twist a mind beyond repair. Well, not always, but that just proves to everyone how determined he is to mess you up. He is aloof of strangers, and his confidence is high...in himself. He can be quite the egocentric, cocky here and there. That's where he generally messes up. He is harsh and never dependent on others. He's watchful and powerful. He is vastly intelligent, and hardly lets anything stand in his way of what he wants. He is cautious, and hard to love and be loved upon. He does not do too well with others, and he is quite obtrusive of others. He can be nosy, but most of the time he's a loner.
A fighter at heart, Isilzheha can be judgmental and tends to look forward to meeting other male big cats. He tries to stir up a fight, always confident he'll win. He has a harsh, merciless side, as well. He can become very demonic, raging up and down if something clicks in his mind. He is temperamental, and never shy around the females. Mostly because he is flirtatious. He tends to mess around alot, yet always remains on his toes. He is ever cautious, and it's hard to sneak up on this sneaky creature.
Intrests: Killing, running and hunting, death, destruction, pain, instigating, challenging, fighting, and fear. He's brutal.
Dislikes: Kindness shown toward him, inner peace, others trying to pry him open, rejection in any sort of way, losing to anyone, being annoyed in the wrong situations.
History: He was a smaller cub when he was born, and he was always the more savage one. He never took kindly to his siblings, and he always ventured off on his own. Though his mother persisted that she stay with him so as to protect him, yet he was ever vigilant, evading his dame any way he could. As he grew older, he grew more savage. Though his supposedly sweet, tender, loving siblings played a good game before the parents, they secretly tormented Isilzheha when no other was around. They persued him in long hunts through the woods and forests, chasing him and turning their fangs against him. They sensed about him a certain evil that they didn't feel comfortable staying around. Isilzheha learned to be more aloof, always on his toes, and always the silently savage one. He learned to take on his three siblings at once, throwing them down and slashing out before another could leap up and at him. He always left his mark, and was punished for it by his father. He grew to be hated, and he was put within a clutter with his family, and he disliked it more. Whenever there was trouble, Isilzheha was always at the bottom of it. He was the demon of the world, forever plaguing the lives of those he stood by.
He grew older still, and was cast from his clutter when he turned one. His siblings were removed as well, for the mother and father were no longer needed for survival. So Isilzheha, always menacing and ready for bloodshed, followed his three siblings. He tracked them down everywhere, chasing them and cutting them down one by one. He did it in cold blood, for they had given up their attempt at making him run away. He slaughtered them without a blink of his eye, and so he turned back around and tried to track down the clutter. He was a demon, the death-bringer of that side of the terrain. When he finally did track down the clutter, he went in for the kill. His mother went down first, inflicting her fair share of wounds upon his bodice. His father was harder, but second to fall. In the dead of night, with the stench of blood on the air, the calling of death was on the horizon as the clutter turned their fangs against Isilzheha and gave chase. They stopped after some while, however, when Isilzheha pulled his tricks and dumfounded the group. Though, one bold, valiant tiger decided to continue on following Isil, and he was all white and black with dark eyes. He was just as wicked and cunning as Isilzheha.
He chased him, and finally Isilzheha had to confront him at some point. So that he did. He fought with this wolf, and he put up a fight, yet none left the fight unscathed. In fact, Isilzheha was the loser of the fight. He was slashed open horribly in result of a tired, angered leap at the white tiger. He was cut open, and was left to bleed it out and eventually die. Which may have happened, if he hadn't clung to life so fiercly. That he did, and he recovered enough to stand and move about his life. So that he did, living his life in heated search for the white tiger that haunted his younger days and left the very noticeable scar upon him. He became Isilzheha the Impure, and definitely lived up to the name.
RP sample:
† 'Take me down, to the paradise city where the grass is green and the girls are pretty. Taaake, meeee, hoooome, yeah yeah!' I shook my head, growling at Haiku. "You are a pitiful thing, Haiku." It was usually never this giddy and happy. It was always so articulate, so calm and reasonable. Yet here it, no, he, was, singing. It had to be the females. It was that time of season, I guess. 'Oh, you're just jealous.' I shook my head again, letting my paws do the talking as I went to the place where the grass wasn't greener, and it sure as hell was no paradise. A white facade swollen with cold, bristling my dark pelt as I stood, eying the mountain. 'Go on. Go up it. Nothing can hurt you. Well, you know what I mean.' "Thanks for your permission, Hypno." I shook my head again. These brujens were getting to be a real joy. No matter if one was a whiny little puppet to the strongest. I flicked my tail, lowering my crania to sniff the tops of the snow, my hackles growing cold at the tips. I tilted my head. Perhaps this was my calling. 'Oh, don't be so naive. You just want it to be your calling. Go up those mountains, you coward. Come on, maybe you can have a chance to spill some blood, hm?' Kibachi overrode my mind, calming my nerves, but filling them with adrenaline. I could have stopped him, but I did not. His energy filled my veins, his blood lust taking over Haiku's reasonable and sensible effect on me. My eyes flashed, and my muscles grew taut against my scarred pelt. I lowered my head. The game was on.
† I leaped forth, my muscle carrying me across the snows and toward the mountain. I was free, away from my pack. My omega position. My tail trailed behind me, the cold winds whipping past me. I was invincible. I threw my head back and to the left, throwing a menacing, wicked howl into the air. I let my head slide to the right, emitting the sound all across this span of free land. My dark hues flashed, and I grinned a tooth-bearing grin. 'Oh, you're in for it! You're gonna fall off that mountain and die. Don't let him take over you, Claude! Please! For the sake of Fun House!' I growled, and tossed my head, snorting to the winds. "Shut up, you whiny, sniveling little mongrel!" All the voices of the brutes of Fun House swarmed into my vocals, bursting outward. They echoed, carrying with my own. Oh, but Traeborn was getting to be the worst nuisance in my whole world. I flattened my ears, coming to the edge of the path that winded around the mountains. I grinned, a devilish little grin, and leaped. I pushed off the ground, sailing onto the path. "Ha!" Then the adrenaline rush was gone, and my muscles relaxed as I began to slow to a risk trot, head high and tail the same. But again here we were, prancing, as Kibachi liked to call it, about like we were higher in rankibng than we were. I then lifted a paw, in the manner of a hunting dog, and threw my head back, my neck arched. Looking sophisticated, or something like that. My tail snaked behind me. 'Oh, but you are a dashing fellow, Master Jean-Claude. The ladies will love you.' I snorted, tossing my head and letting it fall again to level with my shoulders.
† "Tell me one she-wolf that would be able to handle me?" I growled outward, thinking I was alone. But if I had been paying attention, I might have caught the scent of the femme. The one closer nearby. But I did not, and instead kept on up the path, the winds howling around me, tugging at me with icy cold fingers. 'Oh please. You know you couldn't lay any she-wolf, even if they were whoring themselves. You're pathetic. You have to FIGHT for what you want. But instead, you just laze about, waiting for everything to come to you.' I ignored him this time, squinting my eyes against the cold wind. I stopped and turned, my glossy black fur billowing around my strong facade as I looked down upon the flat land where I had just been not too long ago. The trees were small specks, and any sort of prey were even smaller specks. I turned back, looking upward. Hmmm. I began to push against the winds, the thrill of the hurt, the rush of the danger calling to me. I leaped forth, escaping the winds by falling into a small grove of trees. The rock beneath was split where the roots had taken well...root. I shook the blistering snow from me and sat back upon my haunches. ' See? I told you. You guys never listen?' I took a step forth, growling at the winds. "I thought I told you to shut up. I don't even know why you're in Fun House. It's for FUN, and you ruin the whole thing." I shook my head again, standing up and listening as the winds calmed. I yawned, stepping to the edge of the path. Dangerously on the edge, mind you. The snow crumbled beneath me, and I snorted, moving away from the edge calmly. As if I wouldn't have fallen if I had lingered. Unbeknownst to me, the femme I had failed to smell had gotten a nice little chunk of snow on her back. However, I didn't know this. I flicked my tail instead, ignoring the voices as they squabbled with each other.
† I neared the rough part this time, the rocks crumbling beneath me, others slick from frozen ice. 'Ooh like you care. Come on, hot stuff. Master Jean-Claude. Set your sights and go for the gold. You're better than these rocks. Cooome on. Can't you be persuaded to move just beyond these rocks?' I stopped, lifting a brow. I settled back and hissed, "How'd you know I was thinking that?" 'I didn't. Until now.' I opened my mouth to argue with him, but Kibachi cut me off, 'Oh, just go, you pansy!' I growled and began to leap across the rocks with ease, not caring if I slipped or got stuck. I made it to the other side, and noticed I didn't have too much to go before I reached the top. But I simply sighed and gazed around, my eyes falling to the small nook on the side of the rock. I smirked and sidled over to it, settling against it, my body shielded from the wind and snow slightly. No matter the season, this place never seems to warm up. It was relentlessly fighting those that braved its mountain sides. I settled down into the snow, closing my eyes. Just resting. It's nice to be away from the pack members. Just me and Fun House. My chest was tucked into my paws, the bow marking hidden. The bow that pronounced my name as Master Jean-Claude. I smirked to myself. 'Funny you didn't notice the scent earlier.' I grumbled to myself and sighed, "What scent? Stop trying to trick me. There was no scent." 'Oh, nonesense. Hypno is the only one to trick you. Besides, I was talking about the she-wolf's scent. A pack she-wolf, mind you.' My eyes snapped open, but I simply growled to myself, closing them again. Whatever. She was nothing to me until she made herself known.
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