Post by naxx on Nov 15, 2009 18:04:54 GMT -6
"...I'll die in a pit of rotting flesh and a lake of fire before I give into someone's demise... just remember, I won't die the way you want me to..."
[/i][/font] - Naxx[/center]Name: Naxx
Age Group: Adult
Gender: Male
Clan: Undecided
Herd: Undecided
Mate: None
Friends: None
Family:
Mother - Killed by Wolf pack - Was raised by Father
Father - Elderly, tells him constantly, 'you can't live your life seeking revenge, otherwise it'll just seek revenge on you'
Species: Wolverine (Gulu Gulu, scientific meaning, 'The Gluton,')
Physical Description:
Height 31" at skull, 28" at shoulder. 67" from nose to tail;
Weight 54lbs (He's actually overweight *Wolverines are called Gulo Gulo "The Glutton" -they're always hungry, and are always looking for food.)
Details-
Naxx is a massive beast, weighing at about 54 pounds, with solid muscle behind layers of brown and baige fur, muscular, well maintained, well nuitritoned, equiped with the tools of the trade to ensure his own suvival, and perhaps others, he's well adapted for the wilderness. Wolverines are known for their savage temper, and their brute strength, this of course, is not absent in Naxx, he's the prime example of fury and reason, the icon of the wild and a true soldier, bearing the marks of battle, and the scars of survival, he's a ferocous beast, and will submit to no one. A strong believer in self-pide, a warrior in every sense of the word, a beast with a heart of iron and gold, one who will fight for himself, and perhaps others, he makes his way into the new world to make a new discovery.
Personality:
Naxx is a harsh, but true beast. He won't try and hide the facts from anyone, even friends. He's a 'you'll de trying to catch me' -fighter, and will never quit. If in battle, and he can't run, hell crawl, if he can't rawl, he'll slither, if he can't slither, he'll wait until you get in range before he cuts you to ribbons with his talon-like claws. Never expect him to surrender, as an animal with both wilderiness pide, and the pride that comes with being male, he'll never give into an obstical, and would be -blocked-ed f he surrendered to an enemy before him.
He has respect to both females and young of any species, and prides in himself to never attack any unless he's the one being attacked, but in most cases, he'll just push it to the side unless it becomes more of an annoyance.
His personality can be summed up as borsque, as in he doesn't really feel the pain of the sins that he's committed, and therefore, feels no pain for those he must kill. A wondering shadow in the world that shut him out, a figure that many considered an animosity rather than a potential friend, one who fight his way through rather than negotiate; one who is deaf to the words of a critic, who eers and comes short again and again; who know's the great enthusiams, the great devotions and spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory, or defeat. Who shares no consideration for is own life, who would proudly bare the death of a warrior than that of a coward. Exhausted, battle weary, adrenaline fueled, he'll fight until he collapses from overdrive... don't push him, his razor sharp talon-claws are known to take more away than they give.
History:
Naxx has a history of many tears, battlefield rage, and a tenacious furious temper. Many scars line this body of his, all fifty-four pounds of him, from his neck to his chest, from his belly to his flanks, even his legs. Though the coat of the wolverine is thick and dark, the scars of his white flesh are bright amungst this darkness, therefore they can be seen.
Naxx is a beast of furious anger, yet he is one to be emotional, and is known to be one who will not take kindly to either being insulted, or disgraced upon. He's known nothing but death, gore, blood and sin. A soldier without a country, one who would rather die than to give up, who would have his eyes pecked out by the ravens, his flesh decomposed by the flies and eaten to the bone by maggots than die the way someone wants him to. His entire obligation was to die the he wanted to. To die of exhaustion, rather than surrender... even execution. To allow his soul to descend to the very pits of hell where it'll burn for the miliena, to enjoy the chior of screams of the lives he had taken, who's claws are soaked in their blood, their lives claimed at the end of his bear strikes, his rakes, his fangs. The world had -blocked-ed him once, in return, he was going to -blocked- the world.
He has no friends, but then again, he also has no enemies. Enemies were something of which were related on political terms, there is no such things as an enemy in absolute terms. And as the soldier he had become, he wasn't going to be pushed around.
He doesn't see danger the way most do, being a wolverine, one with a furious and tenacious heart, he goes through the line of danger, rather than around it. To go around the danger would disgrace the wolverine blood that flowed through his veins. It would hinder the stability of the next generation of his kind. Therefore, he has no friends.... he loves no one, he hates no one. As for friends? -What friends? -Too much of a risk of betrayial... today's friends would only become tomorrow's enemies... too much of a chance that he'd be stabbed in the back by those clammoring for the bitter-sweet taste of revenge. Therefore, he has no friends.
His rage comes from when he was nothing more than a kit, when a wild pack of wolves killed his mother and his other sister, leaving him an orphan until his father heard the news; thus returned to find his son near starvation. Raised by his father, he became a harsh beast with a hatred for all wolves, and in fact, takes his anger on them like something never before seen. He enjoys giving them slow and painful deaths, much like they had given his mother when they beat her to death. His quest for revenge had begun with tears, tears grew to rage, rage grew to transform him into a wolf killer.
Coming and going with the winds, this beast has seen alot of conflict and alot of death, killing to survive, killing to avoid being killed himself, using feral combat for the rage, to feel the life seep from his opponent's veins, to watch the light fade from their eyes with every blood-gasping second, to fight again and again until he's had enough.
Knowing that there is never going to be a happy ending for him, he ventures forward into the world of the unknown, looking for answers, and blood...
Example RP Post:
"It doesn't take a fool to realise when the times were beginning to change... it doesn't take a fool to understand that as the times change, so too -do the people that live within them. The times are a living thing, just as the people are. However, there was one thing that I came to understand, and it was the fact that I would never change. I could never run from the being that I had become, what it was I wanted... what I needed.
I had become a killer at heart, traveling from world to world, moving through the times and spaces of life and change with every day of my existance. I never accepted the fact that I was thus an intruder, I never believed in such things, there was no reason. All I wanted was to quench the thirst that would never be quenched, to satisfy the mind that yearned for spilt blood; the put to rest the claws that had clammored to tear through flesh and fur; however, the nerve endings in such things seemed to have dilapidated over time, for they never seemed to tell me when they've have enough... and for that, I'd do what I did best... kill.
A beast walks through these woods, rays of sunlight pass over his abstract form, a scent upon him that tell those who inhabit the area that he is not from here. A beast with stellar beaming eyes, a body that ripples with strength and power with every step he takes, the beat of an angry heart pulsating within his chest.
This beast of that I speak, is infact, myself... a feral wolverine. Naxx was the name that was given to me many long years ago by the very same person that had given birth to me. And it was also the very same name that many trembled and -blocked- themselves over. There was no turning back, I couldn't take back the sins that I had committed, it never once crossed my mind that I had killed someone's loved one, -someone's son, someone's brother, I killed because I had to, it maintained balance in my mind, and in my body. A spirit that yearns for blood, a mind that clammors for death, a stomach that of which is fammished for meat. I was never satisfied, I was never full. -I was always hungry, always thirsty, always tired, yet sleep didn't come so easily anymore. Uneasiness crawled through my nerves, the fear of the unknown crawled it's way up from the bush of my tail to the back of my skull. This was a new place... this was an unknown place.
Why I had come here, I don't know... perhaps it was because I had run out of things to kill, perhaps I was trailing another annimosity and my heart lead me here... or maybe it was for change. There was no where to run anymore, there was no reason to continue lying to myself, I was never going to change, I was never going to accept the fact that there was such thing as a better way to live my life. Killing was what I did, it was what we, as wolverines, did for a living. We were beasts of tenacity, strength, savage brute force, and cunning; beasts who could easily take on an entire pack of wolves, and come out at the top of an arena in any fight. -I was a beast that could send a grizzly bear running in fear for his life, a beast that could send a pack of dogs fleeing with their tails between their legs after they've -blocked- themselves empty; I was the demon you both awed and feared, the embodiment of the shadow in your worst nightmares. Hell hath no fury than the wolverine."
--family-- :
Yukioa (You-coy-uh) /Mother - Murdered by wolf pack when he was a kit, leaving him orphaned until his father came for him, raising him.
Tango /Father - now elderly, he looks down upon Naxx and regrets that his own flesh and blood become the way he is, often telling him that 'if you live to seek revenge, it too will seek revenge against you'
Youkazi (yo-kaz-ee) /Sister - Murder by a pack of wolves, was Naxx's only sister.
--relationships-- :
- At this time, Naxx is too busy seeking revenge, he has no interest in waisting time fulfilling his sex drive or starting any relationships.
--traits-- :
- He seeks revenge more than he seeks to make a family
- His skill in feral combat is furious
- He swears ALOT -Part of this raged filled beast.
- He is NEVER happy, never say -'good morning' to him.
Wolverine Facts
Wolverines are known to be the most dangerous creatures in the wild, with a furious temper. They rival against bears, wolves, and other predators, even in numbers, wolverines are furious opponents.
Wolverines, though most only weighing only 44 pounds, about the size of a medium-sized dog, are more than capable of taking down a full-sized buck, or even a moose on their own. Their claws, somewhat similar to a hawk's talons, actually grow inside their paws, and when 'unsheathed' can extend to 6.5 inches, which assists them in climbing trees, and 'latching' unto prey/opponents. (-hense the dub 'Wolverine' from X-Men)
Wolverines are also natural defenders contrary to their killing fascination, they secrete very foul smelling oil from pores that line their flesh much like sweat glands, this oil has a very potent odor and can send those with very sensitive noses running in fear of the smell, This oil, however, is also considered to be the ultimate defense mechanism, as it lubes nearly every part of the body and therefore makes it difficult to pin down for predators who require the deadly throat stike, which is practically impossible due to the wolverine's remarkable flexability. Even more toxic then the oil itself is their anal glands, which can spray a toxic gas-liquid up to six feet, much like a skunk, this is how wolverines get the nickname 'Skunk Bear'.
Though small, agile, and lightweight, wolverines are furious opponents to any predator, and can kill a grizzly bear without thought their trick is ambushing their prey by jumping down from trees, and dragging their claws downward, shredding open the abdominal wall, which contains all vital organs.
When attacked, a wolverine will usually roll on it's back and rack violently with it's flexed claws, aiming for the throat, lungs, or the genitals, (god forbid if you're male)
The genis name, Gulu Mustelidae, means, The Glutton, due to the Wolverine's furious appetite, and the fact that they can eat as much as 20 pounds of food of day, Native Americans have nicked named it, Gulu-Galu "Gluttonous Trickster', yet to some tribes, the Wolverine can be seen as a messenger to the living world and the unliving world due it's ability to move about freely in small places with it's surprising flexability.
Hope it works out, I'll be on tomorrow to check out the status, looking forward to my first post (going to be epic)