Post by Kipcha on Apr 26, 2008 16:06:43 GMT -5
Name: Kipcha
Nickname: none
Gender: Female
Age: She is now at the grand age of 124, but physically she looks like she’s around 15 or so, unusually young looking.
Height: Shorter than most, a bit petite.
Weight: Her body is slender, but soft and rounded, taking on the appearance of not being one to hurt; of course this is the exact opposite when she needs to get a point across, in the most dire situations (Defense, offence, protection and such). Despite her appearance, she's faster than the average person, and can maneuver easily into small spaces, almost like a mouse. She is very slinky with her movements, walking silently most of the time, with seeming effortlessness, like a velvet padded wolf among the wild, nearly impossible to detect without very heightened senses. Though she is neither the strongest nor the fastest, she is VERY difficult to catch if one wishes to catch her, slipping out of their arms like water.
Her eyes speak of a sorrow, almost unseeable if you didn’t look close enough, a deep loss that showed in the faintest way. Sharp, witty cunning also fills these eyes, a slight playfulness playing within them.
Personality: She’s a very goofy, playful person, often not being able to take a serious moment, but this by no means indicates that she is social. She tends to shy away from people in general, but enjoys being at a distance, watching or observing. She is very energetic, almost hyper most of the time, but can sleep the day away at other times. She seems to have a deep rooted mistrust of most people, being very cautious when having to get near someone, though she hides this with cool, playful eyes, often keeping at least 5 feet away from everyone. Being a rather wild, freedom born soul, she cant stand to be in a crowd, for she must be free, with no other creature touching her. Being an all around kind soul despite her mistrust, she often will not harm anyone under any circumstance, unless she needs to defend herself, or distance herself from a foe. Of course, everyone has their moments, so occasionally she gets the will to fight, but nothing harmful, only sparing and scaling her strengths and weaknesses. She has one, very big weakness about her, and it is that she can’t stand to see anything suffer or be in pain, even if it’s the tiniest of creatures. She hunts in the wild, chasing down prey as any other hunter would do, but does not waste time in the killing, trying to make it quick as possible. This holds her back from landing any serious blows on fighters or enemies. Preferring to stay within natural roots, though she has a human form, she tends to stay in the form of an enormous wolf. Her fur is a pure, snow white, the only change being black tipped fur that runs down her scruff.
Relationships: She has a relationship with Edward, the handsome vampire. She has a very deep love for him, though she doesn’t admit it, and is careful with her thoughts on that subject, so she doesn’t blurt it out for him to hear. She met him when a rare moment when she was in her human form, wondering through a town when winter had stolen away the prey, and food was scarce. Stumbling into a bar, she limped, half frozen to a fire, rubbing her arms in the heat, when a few drunken men stumbled up, asking for money and sex. Growling softly, she began to back away, but they formed a ring around her, laughing and reaching out to grab her. Under a normal circumstance she could have easily eluded them, but being half starved and frozen chopped her strength almost in half. In a panic, she let out a horrible, blood freezing shriek, sinking her teeth deeply into ones arm, ripping flesh to the bone, as she darted through the others legs. Of course being pissed off and hurt, they attempted to rush her, when Edward stepped in, still sipping blood red wine, blocking the girl from harm, in a blink of an eye. "Now now, is this any way to behave in front of a lady? I mean really now, there’s no need to make fools of yourselves..Wait, you’ve already done that" Enraged, they rushed towards him in a drunk rage, and still sipping his wine, he simply threw out an arm, blocking each of their attacks, rendering them unconscious one by one with a well aimed punch. Finishing the last bit of his wine, he looked at her smiling suavely. "Terribly sorry you had to see that. How about a drink?"
History: She was born 1884 in London, England, to two perfectly normal parents. Her mother, Annabelle Livingston, was born and raised in England, and was soon to be married to a chosen husband, much to her displeasure. As for her father, Running Stag, he was of Native American descent, coming from an ancient but scarced Indian tribe. He was put on a boat and shipped as a laborer, and soon at arrival had escaped. If not for him running into Annabelle, he would have been caught and hung. On the account that both were in sticky situations, they worked together to escape, and managed to succeed by a hairs breath. Soon after gaining their freedom, they had fallen in a deep love, swearing upon the stars of their everlasting togetherness. A few years had passed, and soon Annabelle was heavy with a child. Unfortunately, after the birth, she grew sick and frail. Running Stag had known that if they went to civilization for help, he and his family would be killed. In an attempt to save his wife, he traveled across the world, hiding on boats, until he had made it back to his homeland, and his tribe. But despite all their desperate attempts and medicines, Annabelle passed away, leaving Running Stag with his now motherless child. Knowing that he could not care for the child and give it life nourishing milk, he placed her in the thick roots of a mighty oak, saying a few prayers, leaving her their to die. A full day passed as an elder was passing through the forest, hearing the small cry’s of the hungry infant, and found the abandoned child. As he lifted the child, his eyes filled with surprise, and then awed wisdom. “The Child born with Wolf.” He said with a quite whisper. For her eyes were the deep purple colors, and the hair that covered her tiny head was snow white, the mark of a blessing so rare and yet so cruel. Because of this, when she hit the age of maturing, which could be between 12 and 20, her body would forever stay within that frame, never dieing of old age. And once she gained control of the ability to shift, she could merge into the form of a wolf at will, however before she gained control, the shifting would come randomly. He knew that her road would be hard, for she would always feel a difference between herself and other children, something she couldn’t explain, and would hate herself for. This difference was her connection with the wild spirit that burned within her, the spirit of the wolf. Feeling it was his duty to raise her, he took her back to the village, to raise her as his own. Smiling, he spoke with love “Kipcha. Your name shall be Kipcha” He feed her from the milk of a mother dog, letting her suckle with the cubs, until she was old enough to be weaned. At the age of three, her first shifting occurred. Fortunately, he was able to keep it a secret, keeping her in his tent until it passed. He knew also that if the village found out what she really was, she would be killed. And so he raised her, teaching her of the forest and its whispers, and how to live within it and survive in a state of peace, and teaching her what she was. But as time went on, she began to grow solemn, morose, because of the isolation from all the other people. And because of their bullying and taunting, she become even more solitary, growing a hatred for her kind. And this hatred was like an improperly grown hair, twisting and growing upon itself, creating a great festering thing of hurt, and because it grew upon itself, something had to come out of it, thus she became indomitable, unyielding, and uncaring. She gave no quarter, and asked for none. She demanded from them to be left alone, unmolested, in return for her leaving them alone and leaving them in peace. And if this demand was not met, it was enforced through sound thrashings and fights. Had fate not brought her into the hands of the elder, she would have continued on, forever hateful and an enemy to all. But fate was merciful, and he brought back the kindness and love within her, teaching her to forgive the villagers for their ignorance. As time went on, youth brought to her strength, while aging caused him to become decrypt. At the age of 14, she realized that death was about to take the only person she had in her life, and she scrambled to find medicines to save her very savior. But he stopped her, telling her that death was but another journey to him, and he has been on the earth long enough. After much convincing, she stopped trying to give him medicine, and did the best she could to make him comfortable. For nights and days she would go without sleep, watching, protecting, and taking care of him as he grew weaker still. Then one day when she had gone out as a wolf to hunt for food, she drug down a deer, forbidding herself from eating until he had life giving meat in him. Carrying back a generous portion in her jaws, she snuck back into the village, and to his tent. Dropping the meat at the foot of his bed, she wagged her tail as she nudged his hand to wake him, for he slept often, almost never being awake now. But as she nudged, her sensitive nose picked up the cold, eerie smell of death. Her wagging tail slowly drooped as she realized that his soul had left him. Now all that remained was his cold body, shriveled and fragile, the wise eyes closed in almost a peace. Time froze as she stood there, a low whine coming from her downcast muzzle. The whine grew to a throaty growl, until it burst out in a howl of agony, filling the entire village with the loud cry, shaking the villagers down to their very bones. Stumbling back, she threw her head to the sky one more, shaking and crying out howls that almost sounding like screams. As the villagers ran out of houses, looking around frantically, the entire tent burst open, an enormous wolf bursting out of it, the tent collapsing into a pile of nothing, as the creature ran through the crowd, and into the forest, with the man on her back. Some said it was an almighty demon that came from Kipcha, and killed the man, carrying him off to feast upon him. She ran and ran, until she had gained many miles away from everything she had grown with, and dropped to her stomach. Gaining the strength to pick herself up, she dug a deep, large hole for what she had seen as her father, and gently lowered him into it, jumping out. Kicking dirty back into the hole, she filled it up until it became a slight mound, pulling flowers from the ground and placing them over the grave. Slowly sitting on her haunches, she sang and mourned with beautiful, tragic songs of the wild, the howls drifting and filling the forest with burning sorrow. Laying down, she rested her head on her paws, and for many weeks she did nothing but lay by his grave, becoming stone, moving only to get food or water. Eventually, she gave him a last, long howl, and disappeared, never to be seen by the villagers again. For the next 110 years, she wondered the earth, hardly ever leaving her wolf form, and because she was seen across many places of the earth, she had become known as the White devil. It was a superstition that the White devil came and stole your soul through your mouth, and many native countries feared the fake rumor. Being on the earth so long calmed the aching longing inside of her, until it become a faint rawness on the edges of her inside, a dull pain that came and went. But because of what the old man had taught her, she became whom she is today, holding no vendetta against any. She now wonders across various places, now vaguely following Edward if she pleases, coming and going at random, but loving the time with him.
Race: Hybrid
Class: Ya'na-Sazi
Weapons: Her bare hands, claws fangs and wolf form
Skills/Spells: She mostly fights in her wolf form, but will occasionally revert to her human form, and she fights mostly like a typical wolf, darting in and out with fast attacks, never staying long enough to open a big risk to getting a serious hit, but she has much more strength then a regular wolf.
Extra Info: Tried the best I could with this character, hope everyone likes it ^^ And if you don’t…well then shucks T^T
Nickname: none
Gender: Female
Age: She is now at the grand age of 124, but physically she looks like she’s around 15 or so, unusually young looking.
Height: Shorter than most, a bit petite.
Weight: Her body is slender, but soft and rounded, taking on the appearance of not being one to hurt; of course this is the exact opposite when she needs to get a point across, in the most dire situations (Defense, offence, protection and such). Despite her appearance, she's faster than the average person, and can maneuver easily into small spaces, almost like a mouse. She is very slinky with her movements, walking silently most of the time, with seeming effortlessness, like a velvet padded wolf among the wild, nearly impossible to detect without very heightened senses. Though she is neither the strongest nor the fastest, she is VERY difficult to catch if one wishes to catch her, slipping out of their arms like water.
Her eyes speak of a sorrow, almost unseeable if you didn’t look close enough, a deep loss that showed in the faintest way. Sharp, witty cunning also fills these eyes, a slight playfulness playing within them.
Personality: She’s a very goofy, playful person, often not being able to take a serious moment, but this by no means indicates that she is social. She tends to shy away from people in general, but enjoys being at a distance, watching or observing. She is very energetic, almost hyper most of the time, but can sleep the day away at other times. She seems to have a deep rooted mistrust of most people, being very cautious when having to get near someone, though she hides this with cool, playful eyes, often keeping at least 5 feet away from everyone. Being a rather wild, freedom born soul, she cant stand to be in a crowd, for she must be free, with no other creature touching her. Being an all around kind soul despite her mistrust, she often will not harm anyone under any circumstance, unless she needs to defend herself, or distance herself from a foe. Of course, everyone has their moments, so occasionally she gets the will to fight, but nothing harmful, only sparing and scaling her strengths and weaknesses. She has one, very big weakness about her, and it is that she can’t stand to see anything suffer or be in pain, even if it’s the tiniest of creatures. She hunts in the wild, chasing down prey as any other hunter would do, but does not waste time in the killing, trying to make it quick as possible. This holds her back from landing any serious blows on fighters or enemies. Preferring to stay within natural roots, though she has a human form, she tends to stay in the form of an enormous wolf. Her fur is a pure, snow white, the only change being black tipped fur that runs down her scruff.
Relationships: She has a relationship with Edward, the handsome vampire. She has a very deep love for him, though she doesn’t admit it, and is careful with her thoughts on that subject, so she doesn’t blurt it out for him to hear. She met him when a rare moment when she was in her human form, wondering through a town when winter had stolen away the prey, and food was scarce. Stumbling into a bar, she limped, half frozen to a fire, rubbing her arms in the heat, when a few drunken men stumbled up, asking for money and sex. Growling softly, she began to back away, but they formed a ring around her, laughing and reaching out to grab her. Under a normal circumstance she could have easily eluded them, but being half starved and frozen chopped her strength almost in half. In a panic, she let out a horrible, blood freezing shriek, sinking her teeth deeply into ones arm, ripping flesh to the bone, as she darted through the others legs. Of course being pissed off and hurt, they attempted to rush her, when Edward stepped in, still sipping blood red wine, blocking the girl from harm, in a blink of an eye. "Now now, is this any way to behave in front of a lady? I mean really now, there’s no need to make fools of yourselves..Wait, you’ve already done that" Enraged, they rushed towards him in a drunk rage, and still sipping his wine, he simply threw out an arm, blocking each of their attacks, rendering them unconscious one by one with a well aimed punch. Finishing the last bit of his wine, he looked at her smiling suavely. "Terribly sorry you had to see that. How about a drink?"
History: She was born 1884 in London, England, to two perfectly normal parents. Her mother, Annabelle Livingston, was born and raised in England, and was soon to be married to a chosen husband, much to her displeasure. As for her father, Running Stag, he was of Native American descent, coming from an ancient but scarced Indian tribe. He was put on a boat and shipped as a laborer, and soon at arrival had escaped. If not for him running into Annabelle, he would have been caught and hung. On the account that both were in sticky situations, they worked together to escape, and managed to succeed by a hairs breath. Soon after gaining their freedom, they had fallen in a deep love, swearing upon the stars of their everlasting togetherness. A few years had passed, and soon Annabelle was heavy with a child. Unfortunately, after the birth, she grew sick and frail. Running Stag had known that if they went to civilization for help, he and his family would be killed. In an attempt to save his wife, he traveled across the world, hiding on boats, until he had made it back to his homeland, and his tribe. But despite all their desperate attempts and medicines, Annabelle passed away, leaving Running Stag with his now motherless child. Knowing that he could not care for the child and give it life nourishing milk, he placed her in the thick roots of a mighty oak, saying a few prayers, leaving her their to die. A full day passed as an elder was passing through the forest, hearing the small cry’s of the hungry infant, and found the abandoned child. As he lifted the child, his eyes filled with surprise, and then awed wisdom. “The Child born with Wolf.” He said with a quite whisper. For her eyes were the deep purple colors, and the hair that covered her tiny head was snow white, the mark of a blessing so rare and yet so cruel. Because of this, when she hit the age of maturing, which could be between 12 and 20, her body would forever stay within that frame, never dieing of old age. And once she gained control of the ability to shift, she could merge into the form of a wolf at will, however before she gained control, the shifting would come randomly. He knew that her road would be hard, for she would always feel a difference between herself and other children, something she couldn’t explain, and would hate herself for. This difference was her connection with the wild spirit that burned within her, the spirit of the wolf. Feeling it was his duty to raise her, he took her back to the village, to raise her as his own. Smiling, he spoke with love “Kipcha. Your name shall be Kipcha” He feed her from the milk of a mother dog, letting her suckle with the cubs, until she was old enough to be weaned. At the age of three, her first shifting occurred. Fortunately, he was able to keep it a secret, keeping her in his tent until it passed. He knew also that if the village found out what she really was, she would be killed. And so he raised her, teaching her of the forest and its whispers, and how to live within it and survive in a state of peace, and teaching her what she was. But as time went on, she began to grow solemn, morose, because of the isolation from all the other people. And because of their bullying and taunting, she become even more solitary, growing a hatred for her kind. And this hatred was like an improperly grown hair, twisting and growing upon itself, creating a great festering thing of hurt, and because it grew upon itself, something had to come out of it, thus she became indomitable, unyielding, and uncaring. She gave no quarter, and asked for none. She demanded from them to be left alone, unmolested, in return for her leaving them alone and leaving them in peace. And if this demand was not met, it was enforced through sound thrashings and fights. Had fate not brought her into the hands of the elder, she would have continued on, forever hateful and an enemy to all. But fate was merciful, and he brought back the kindness and love within her, teaching her to forgive the villagers for their ignorance. As time went on, youth brought to her strength, while aging caused him to become decrypt. At the age of 14, she realized that death was about to take the only person she had in her life, and she scrambled to find medicines to save her very savior. But he stopped her, telling her that death was but another journey to him, and he has been on the earth long enough. After much convincing, she stopped trying to give him medicine, and did the best she could to make him comfortable. For nights and days she would go without sleep, watching, protecting, and taking care of him as he grew weaker still. Then one day when she had gone out as a wolf to hunt for food, she drug down a deer, forbidding herself from eating until he had life giving meat in him. Carrying back a generous portion in her jaws, she snuck back into the village, and to his tent. Dropping the meat at the foot of his bed, she wagged her tail as she nudged his hand to wake him, for he slept often, almost never being awake now. But as she nudged, her sensitive nose picked up the cold, eerie smell of death. Her wagging tail slowly drooped as she realized that his soul had left him. Now all that remained was his cold body, shriveled and fragile, the wise eyes closed in almost a peace. Time froze as she stood there, a low whine coming from her downcast muzzle. The whine grew to a throaty growl, until it burst out in a howl of agony, filling the entire village with the loud cry, shaking the villagers down to their very bones. Stumbling back, she threw her head to the sky one more, shaking and crying out howls that almost sounding like screams. As the villagers ran out of houses, looking around frantically, the entire tent burst open, an enormous wolf bursting out of it, the tent collapsing into a pile of nothing, as the creature ran through the crowd, and into the forest, with the man on her back. Some said it was an almighty demon that came from Kipcha, and killed the man, carrying him off to feast upon him. She ran and ran, until she had gained many miles away from everything she had grown with, and dropped to her stomach. Gaining the strength to pick herself up, she dug a deep, large hole for what she had seen as her father, and gently lowered him into it, jumping out. Kicking dirty back into the hole, she filled it up until it became a slight mound, pulling flowers from the ground and placing them over the grave. Slowly sitting on her haunches, she sang and mourned with beautiful, tragic songs of the wild, the howls drifting and filling the forest with burning sorrow. Laying down, she rested her head on her paws, and for many weeks she did nothing but lay by his grave, becoming stone, moving only to get food or water. Eventually, she gave him a last, long howl, and disappeared, never to be seen by the villagers again. For the next 110 years, she wondered the earth, hardly ever leaving her wolf form, and because she was seen across many places of the earth, she had become known as the White devil. It was a superstition that the White devil came and stole your soul through your mouth, and many native countries feared the fake rumor. Being on the earth so long calmed the aching longing inside of her, until it become a faint rawness on the edges of her inside, a dull pain that came and went. But because of what the old man had taught her, she became whom she is today, holding no vendetta against any. She now wonders across various places, now vaguely following Edward if she pleases, coming and going at random, but loving the time with him.
Race: Hybrid
Class: Ya'na-Sazi
Weapons: Her bare hands, claws fangs and wolf form
Skills/Spells: She mostly fights in her wolf form, but will occasionally revert to her human form, and she fights mostly like a typical wolf, darting in and out with fast attacks, never staying long enough to open a big risk to getting a serious hit, but she has much more strength then a regular wolf.
Extra Info: Tried the best I could with this character, hope everyone likes it ^^ And if you don’t…well then shucks T^T