Post by Greenie on Sept 23, 2010 22:08:32 GMT -5
[/center][/font][/size]Royalty runs through our blood lines. We are the superior beings. Bow down to us
They come across the sea from the island of eternity
Dark ships with banners high, the whole world in their sight
They are the Godly race, suppressing every place
Occult powers reign of fear invincible technology
Name? Solicia
Nickname? Sol or Sunny
Age? 4 months
Birth date? January 12th
Gender? Female
Breed? Gray Wolf
Fae Species Earth Nymph/Fae
Hybrid? Nope
Full breed or half Part Gray Wolf and Part Fae
Alliance Spirit
Height? 3 ft 6in
Weight? 104 pounds
Orientation? Heterosexual
Sterility? Yes, can have pups
Scent? Solicia harbors the sweet scent of the rich Earth and flowers nectar.
Voice? If anything is beautiful about her, it is her voice, like a chorus of birds singing. As gentle as a songbird or as fierce as the hunting eagle, talons ready to plunge and kill. The melodies of her voice are notes to her song, the ever-ringing song of her life. Beautiful and sorrowful, demented, blood-thirsty, and tinged with her desire to understand.
The bloody way on their quest
Day by day they never rest, triumph is eternal
Hail, superior race
Obey superior race now.
We'd love you know more about you, You seem like a fine Fae, too, care to elaborate?
Day by day they never rest, triumph is eternal
Hail, superior race
Obey superior race now.
We'd love you know more about you, You seem like a fine Fae, too, care to elaborate?
‘I see the angel in your eyes. The devil in your soul.’
Solicia is a creature of many faces. Of broken angels and haunting devils. A ghostly face, an angelic smile. Her past has stripped her of all naivety and of all hope in the absolute goodness of the world. Taught her that life is but a cruel mask of death. Death, whose fingers rest around the throat of all living, cold and slithering, simply is waiting for the most inopportune moment to strike. Who kisses the cheeks of all living things in mockery of their existence, with a cruel, diminishing smile plastered on those handsome, bloodied lips. Angel of destruction. Agent of chaos. Death can have whatever life it pleases. And Solicia’s crazed mind demonstrates a gruesome fascination with Death and all of its fearsome power, despite her muted contempt. For Death stole everything she had once loved.
‘We should all be ready for Death to kiss the life from our lips.’
She has a deep fascination with the world beyond the living and the bridge that must be crossed to reach that spiritual release. She desires to understand the soul and spirit of all the wolves that she encounters. Wishes to analyze and understand their lives, both past and future. Wishes to see if they have lived to their fullest of expectations. She desires to please, but also desires to deliver pain. Desires to make empty eyes see the fragile flower that life is, to see how quickly it can be destroyed. Desires to see life lived and not wasted; desires to fill empty minds with understanding. A fatal messenger from the stars, blessed with the knowledge that many do not possess. Understanding is her mission, pain her payment, life her façade.
‘Bleed now, but bleed softly. Open your eyes to the meaning of life.’
She is not a cruel wolf, but not a kind one either. She’s simply a neutral entity, a force of reckoning, a guide between life and death; she acts as she must, when she must. She is numb to emotion and pain, despite her desire to feel. As a result, she often finds herself more in tune to nature than to others of her species. Her loyalty to others is instinctual and difficult to come by, as hard to catch as a feather on the breeze. But those she finds, she will never let go.
‘I want to dance with them. I want to dance in the stars.’
She is a careful examiner. Able to pick up on emotion and display it on her slender face with ease. Her body, like a dancer on stage, mimics everyday body language with graceful ease. Her eyes, alight with fire and emotion, gaze deeply into the pits of another’s soul, promising and beautiful. Her face, a careful smile, makes you believe. But her façade is all a part of her desire to know. Of her desire to understand life and to prepare for death. To embrace those cold fingers with a pleased smile on her dark lips. To kiss the cheek of Death before it’s given a chance to kiss hers.
Oh, my adoration. motivated, kind, loving, and good friend
The shame is my drug. calculating, angers, and general lack of not caring
The pleasure brings pain. males please
I love the way you... Her mother, Learning, and Rain showers
I hate it when... Abrasive wolves, Know-it-alls, and not knowing what is going on
I cannot get enough of... Learning and Staying alive
My hearts races when... Death and not being accepted
This I believe... You can't survive, then I have no pity for you
My imperfections are clear... lack of caring at times[/size]
I'm wearin' myself a t-shirt that says "The world is my ashtray", Our hearts pump dust and our hairs all gray...
You're looking mighty fine, most of the time, care to enlighten us?[/center][/i]
Crystal vision? Purple
Oral hue? Salmon
Canvas? A female bird, with plumage short of extravagance. Of browns and earths, crafted messily from a ball of mud. Solicia is not a beauty. More like an angel short of its grace, with broken wings and pitiful lies painted on her skin. Damned from heaven, and too graceful for hell. She lingers among the average, her beauty that of subtly. Gaze at her for long enough, and the ugly bud will bloom. Give her love and a little care and her wings will mend. Her eyes will glow and she will show you true beauty. But she is not an icon of lust, not on the cover of magazines. Her looks are not envied, but they are not giggled at either.
A canvas of tan suits her, a base paint. Cool silver flecks her back. Warm orange and cinnamon-shaded crimson traces her legs and flanks. Her sides are a cinnamon and brown combination, a messy mixture from Nature’s palate, brushed in zigzagging lines. Silver brushes along her spine, a Mohawk of sorts, separated from the browns and tans by a line of solid black. The end of her tail is also dipped in black, like an artist’s brush, ready with ink. Her muzzle and cheeks are shiny silver, while the bridge of her nose and mask on her face is a combination of browns and cinnamons. Black outlines her ears and the same cinnamon on her legs paints the backs of them.
She is feminine in the aspect that she is slender and un-muscled, dainty. She isn’t tiny, but she isn’t large. Average, much like the rest of her looks. Her puppyish body is lanky, showing that she will grow into a decent sized specimen. But she will never fill out to be a terrifying warrior or a petite beauty. She will always be the awkward girl. Skinny, with legs almost too long for the rest of her. Her face, despite her body, is nicely formed, with a slender muzzle and expertly placed eyes.
And the eyes … dwell on them a moment. Her eyes are the focal point of her face. They draw attention away from her average looks, drawing them into their smoldering purple depths. Solicia displays all of her emotion on these eyes, darkening when she’s angry, brightening when she’s pleased or intrigued. They are the windows to her soul, often reflecting her words and tone of voice. And oh her voice! If anything is beautiful about her, it is her voice, like a chorus of birds singing. As gentle as a songbird or as fierce as the hunting eagle, talons ready to plunge and kill. The melodies of her voice are notes to her song, the ever-ringing song of her life. Beautiful and sorrowful, demented, blood-thirsty, and tinged with her desire to understand
Markings less inviting. None
Markings more prideful. Three black dots in the curve of a brown slash of color down her neck. Also has three white markings on her back.
Don't stare too closely. None
I'm sick, infected with... None
Pack? Valcantia
I was given a gift... Glamor and ***
Sensing things far too odd... No Physic Gifts
I bear the gift of angels. No Wings[/size]
Godlike dominance over other tribes
Inhuman malice in their mystic eyes
In a world of chaos human race is lost
Assumption of power, empires fall to dust
Fall to dust.
[/font]Inhuman malice in their mystic eyes
In a world of chaos human race is lost
Assumption of power, empires fall to dust
Fall to dust.
Now that we know of your marionette, we'll learn about your silhouette, wanna explain?[/center][/i]
Jordan
You can also call me... Greenie or Crayon
I've seen the world for... 16
I've played with puppets for... bunches
I also pull the strings of... umm... Glacier, Selena, Fathom, Capital, Ellie, and Edward
It's been divine, friend. Thanks for your time, friend.
CHARACTER COPYRIGHT TO;; Greenie
IMAGE COPYRIGHT TO;; Creepshow
LYRICS COPYRIGHT TO;; Tiny cities made of Ashes- Modest Mouse
TEMPLATE COPYRIGHT TO;; SKYE & DARK?[/size][/blockquote]
