Post by silence on Apr 12, 2010 20:49:50 GMT -7
BLACK &spades &hearts &spades MAGIC
Name: Black Magic (once known as Mardi Gras)
Age: 5
Gender: Bitch
Personality: Sleazy and slutty, will do anything to 'get in bed' with a dog, as the human saying goes. She likes adrenaline rushes and chases, therefore, are her thing. She's a conniving little shit and she knows when to be nice and when to be naughty.
Looks: Average height and trim, with slightly oversized ears and tail. Her coat is less scruffy than the average wild dog. She's all black and she has gray eyes (soon to be green)
History: Born into the Draknyri Pack, Magic was as bad as all the rest. She soon grew out of her old name and replaced it with her own to start a new life of love and lust. She traveled everywhere and has had some kind of relationship with most of the wolves in the kingdom. She has a nasty habit of ending the fling when the sex goes bad.
Picture: Soon! I've got an idea already *evil smile*
Song: 'Ramalama Bang Bang' by Roisin Murphy. Definitely suggested for the ol' iPod ;D
Were you referred by someone? Yuppers, whoever advertised at Shinari Isle
Roleplay sample: Hell-burnt heart. The edges still smoke. Nerves incinerated to their very tips, tingling and still aflame. You know when you watch a fire and the flames leave paths of cinder that are orange and hot and look like they are alive? This was how the fur burned. Each hair, individual and special and all in pain, they burned. The heart of the fire was just a hole, the cinders long gone. It ached and ached and would not stop. And the fire raged and raged until she felt like a burning wolf, just a writhing mass of smoking flesh. She closed her eyes but felt like they had been zippered shut, like she wouldn't be able to open them and see the kaleidoscope world again. And She was upside-down, a reflection in the water, her true self padding along the shore. That other self was safe and happy and did not burn.
And then the cold was too much. Black felt like the flame had iced over. Her muscles were numb and the nerves begged to have a rest. Black just stopped running and lay down, her shoulders skidding painfully on the ice for a few feet before friction slowed her. She might have been afraid that her back against the snow would spark another fire, but that was past and now she just lay like a skin without a soul, her legs still and every cell begging for the pain to stop.
This would leave. It had to. It always did. The sex had been amazing, extravagant; the dog had made her feel like a queen. But he'd started holding back on her and so she'd been forced to leave. It was all his fault that she was waltzing through hell once again. He'd wanted more. The stupid bastard had wanted more than sex. Wasn't that what he was here for? That's why they'd made it together so well. Wasn't it? But the pain came again with just the thought of his eyes and Black curled in against herself as the pain swelled to an almost unbearable level. His eyes had been so tragic when she'd told him. I'm leaving now ...No, no you can't, I love you, I love you! He had. Black had no doubt. He'd loved her and loved her and never stopped to rest. He'd given her everything and even offered to let her stay. Me, a stranger...
But now here she was, lost in the forest and cold and alone and hurting so bad she didn't know she could live.
And then a thought came to Black, a thought that she'd never had before. What if I didn't have to leave? He'd loved her. He'd loved her and loved her. Why did she only live for the sex? Why was this what she did? She could have stayed and been so happy with him, forever. But now she'd ruined it. And for once she admitted that it was really her and not him who had fucked it up. He offered me everything and I just turned it all away! I'm such a jackass! Fuck this. Fuck life. I don't want to live anymore. And right then she didn't. She missed him so bad but she couldn't go back ever again. She hadn't even given him a glance over her shoulder as she'd left, a last caress to show him she'd enjoyed their time together. She'd waited until she was far away for that. She always did.
And now she howled. A howl is like a good cry for a person...whether it is truly sad or just overwhelmingly happy it releases the soul for a time. Black's call was slow and bittersweet, beginning on a low note and climbing until it could climb no more. Wild dogs throughout the land would hear this song, which made it somewhat dangerous, but Black was so cut up inside that it mattered not.
Word Count: 650 ^^
Comments: Behold! She has feelings!