Post by jel on Oct 16, 2012 18:52:55 GMT -5
| [atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 460px; background-image: url(http://i44.tinypic.com/34fb0ns.jpg);-moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px; border: 4px ridge #9c5f5b, bTable][tr][cs=2] OTHELLO. FOUR YEARS OLD. FERAL. | |
[rs=2] | Name: Othello Nickname: n/a Age: Four years Gender: Male ♂ Sexuality: Heterosexual Breed: Cane Corso Pack: Feral Bought Items: n/a Likes:
Dislikes:
Fears:
Dreams:
Overall Personality: ╫LUXURIOUS - Always fit for a King, Othello treats himself like royalty - which might sound contradicting for a dog that has been feral for the majority of his life, yet Othello takes pride in his stellar conformation and naturally superior disposition. He is a canine that lusts for fame, recognition, and all the benefits that come with a high title. If effortlessly good looks won't get him what he wants, then brutality will be the key to his success. ╫WICKED - Of course all the riches in the world do not come easy; Othello has accepted that he'd rather be feared than loved. He is not afraid to stain his reputation with innocent blood if that is what it takes to get to his desired pedestal. And let's not lie, there is a part of him that enjoys the job. He shall be a King, after all, and King's rule their kingdom with an iron fist and a decent dose of terror. ╫INGENIOUS - And who doesn't love intelligence? Despite his cynical nature and sadistic tendencies, Othello is royally brilliant. For a dog who has lived on the streets since he can remember, Othello speaks with the tongue of an educated gentleman. He is full of wit, sultry charm, and twisted humour. A sharp mind, flawless accent - all accompanied by shameless arrogance - completes his complex. Role-playing Sample: NOTE*** These are some pieces not from an actual role-play post, but from a writing I did a while ago. I'm in a rush and have to go out to dinner and really wanted to submit an application. If it's not satisfactory, I'll fix it. xx "Why, out of all the women who were so willing to be yours, why me?" I had never taken the chance to ask him before even though the question had lingered within me for weeks, yet while he played with a stray curl and hummed in my ear, the moment seemed inevitable. He chewed his lip and killed off his tune, staying silent for a long time, refusing to meet my eyes. It took him a few tries to say what was on his mind — like a cold engine on a autumn morning, trying to make out the start of something, hopefully, brilliant. "Why? Because you weren't willing to be mine. Out of all the girl friends I have, you did not want me. You weren't trying to ensnare me or get me drunk so we could f*ck. You were by the fire reading - bashful, quiet, shy -while I womanized everyone who surrounded you and made a stupid toy of them; you were mysterious and off-limits. The rest? They were easy but you -- no, not you. You were a challenge that kept me on my toes, made me tongue-tied whenever i tried to talk, made me sick, made me hate myself, made me resemble my entire mindset about the female sex so i could have you. You turned me into an eight year old boy and made me relearn my manners. I was uncivil, I was mean, and all I wanted was to conquer you. But I made the mistake of falling in love with someone I knew I didn't have a chance with: someone beautiful, poise, forgiving, incredibly intelligent. I wanted you to be mine, but more than anything else, I wanted you to want me in return. Why you? I think, in short, you made me feel more than anyone before, made me feel real and whole; you, in the end, conquered me with just your words, and that is something that has never been accomplished before." and how about this little tidbit? sorry if it's a lot "I awoke to noises. my noises. a noise familiar and warm, a soft spell of a noise that leaves my lips only when you touch me. I awoke to the dying glow of a spitting campfire and a man demanding nothing more from me than my quiet approval. You kissed my forehead and the curve of my cheek, kissed my eyelids shut and whispered against the nape of my neck. I awoke to drunken dreams come true, your saccharine whiskey breath beckoning me into the cradle of your lap where those strong arms entangled me in a snare of interrogation. You studied my scars and memorized my history, all the while rocking me to sleep. I awoke to you, I fell asleep to you." |
JEL. ROLE-PLAYING FOR 5 YEARS. |
