Lycan Queen

[[F]allen]

[Lycan Queen!]

[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Breed:[/b]
[b]Color:[/b]
[b]Height:[/b]
[b]Personality:[/b]
[b]Appearance:[/b]
[b]Sample Post:[/b]

[The sample post must be with the charrie you are auditioning as Queen. It must either be in the perspective that she already is Queen, or wants to be. Please give good detail and clue us to the type of personality she has through the post as well.]

[//?S.tarklian]

The dubbance claimed;
Starklian, although most pronounce Stark

Held for such years;
Estimated at a young six hundred years

The chromosomes that swim;
xx

Easily seen physique;
Lycan

Hell stained me in color;
Black

Reaching at the shoulders;
Four feet, six inches

What's not physically seen;
Although this belle usually appears quite tranquil that
is far from the truth. Blood boils just below the flesh,
prepared to at any moment erupt and cause this young
girl to react in a horrific manner. Once this girl is wired
up she isn't the easiest to control, stop, or silence. Her
emotions are rocky, you never know when they'll slip
or slide in another direction. Her trust is low and she
tends to over think every situation. Sometimes she'll
be caught staring to the world before her with thoughts
bouncing on the inside of her scullery wall. If you're in
need a conversation this dame sure can keep at that.
However, keep up with her as she bounces thought
to thought. She tends to sit in one place, calm and
usually tired from nights awake. Edge in beside her
for this is a belle you shall either adore or despise.
As long as you can remain on the golden and calm
side of things you shall find no issues with this lass.
It's when the anger boils over and you give into her
manner taunting lyrics that things get vicious. Enjoy.

Now this is easily noticeable;
Large yet agile embodiment with a pelt as dark as
the sea's deepest depth. Pelt thick and tends to hold
out even the heaviest of the winds. Thick ebony talons
latch onto the earth and drag away the soil with each
step. Muscular ligaments hold up the entire bodice.
Notice the tassel sway side to side slapping against
pelt covered flanks. Below are scars of flesh once torn
during battles in the past. You can not see them from
where you stand but she knows they are there. Back
upon the facade is yet another scar, although small it
holds a history upon it in which only the dame could
tell about. A long snout and ebony nose, but roll up
to the voids of golden hue. Their color not ultimatley
rare, yet the dark brown specks in the eyes make
them a beauty to gaze within. Roll higher around the
crown to notice two pointed auditories twitching to the
faintest of sound. Yet another wound from the past
can be found here - a snip in he hark. A snip from
dentals similar to her own. Two inch alabaster tinted
teeth that could slide through flesh like scissors
through paper. When caught in the emotion of rage
foam gently curls in the sides of her maw. Oh doesn't
she sound altogether lovely?

I'll reveal the tale of my day;
Physique simply stood upon the earthen mounds with
talons latching upon the dampened soil. Pelt stuck to
the carapace below as the heavens cried and shouted
in thunder and rage. Perhaps the gods were arguing,
if there is such things high above this damned planet
earth. Harks struggled to keep upright, twitching as
drops fell upon them. Cerebrum bounced in thought.
Typical me, constantly thinking of matters that had
no need to be brought up continuously. But if I were
not thinking what else was there to do? I wasn't one
who stalked the lands in search of a quarrel. If one
found me, however, amusement would grow instantly
and soon enough the boiling crimson below would
erupt into an anger no longer controllable. Once I
lost control the only advice that could be eased was
to step back, shut your maw and retreat. Once I
were angered the horrific hostile half of me took over,
as if there were two sides of me. Bi polar? Perhaps.
Or perhaps scared by the past in which I never bring
to audible vocals for another. Yet if your lucky my
trust may rise and walls may crumble, perhaps you
may be the brute or belle to know me, the real me.

Cranium shook, both to rid drops of fallen rain and
also to clear the cerebrum of the constant thoughts
that seemed to dare not cease. Ligaments shifted
over the terrain and brought my bodice towards the
edge of the over hang. Peering to the lands below
a sneer snuck itself along the ebony facade. Deep
rouge visionaries traced the lands below. I shall own
you. I promise this. Lyrics chimed in my mind. Crown
nodded and flanks folded, bodice eased into a sit. I
was quite satisfied with my pleasing thoughts. Queen?
Ah, the depths I'd swim for such a rank. If there is
something in even mild interest that I wish to hold
as my own I shall get it, or fight until the point that
it is mine. I've bee a fighter since the start and that
shall not change in any point of my life long journey.
Challenge me, I do not mind and that is noticed
upon my usually pallid appearing facade.

You are naive whelp. The vocals of another stirred
my peaceful thoughts. Labrums twisted and curled
to reveal bleached two inch dentals. Chassis rattled
in a threatening growl. Embodiment was slow to rise
from the earth below and just as slow to turn. I had
no fear within me, it didn't crawl into my thoughts.
It merely angered me that any would dare disturb
me now as satisfaction was kissing my nerves good-
bye. Child, you have no place here. Run along home.
How would this play out this evening? Sneer remained
upon my mug as hackles rose against the storm. I
waited until the perfect ideal moment when the
opposing dame prepared to lunge. Just as she
did my embodiment jolted to the side, making
her skid forward upon the leaking soil below.
Pivoting my bodice then made an attempt to
get upon her living corpse and drag her down.
However, this girl was a lot more skilled than I
had put thought into. She dodged my attack and
her dentals sunk upon my right leg. Snarls
echoed into the air against the cracks of
thunder and lightning. It was as if the gods
were now cheering us on, begging for more
blood shed. I would please them tonight, that
was my promise within myself. Physique moved
once more in speed and as maw came ajar
ivories sunk into the back nape of the lass.
She let lose a squeal of fright and pain and
this move brought her figure curled upon the
lands. In just that this physical quarrel had
ceased and she offered to retreat. Was this
position truly going to be such a breeze? I
could honestly spit I hoped another of more
challenging nature came forth to try and prove
me out of this spot as Lycan Queen.

[nevreme]

title
harlequin but to my loves im harlee
years
seven hundred and ninety six years young
chromosomes
XX as in female darling
creation
lycan
blood
alaskan malamute on both sides
hue
an obsidian blanket covers over half of my alabaster base
measure
four feet even without the heels
mindset
not many have the chance to look into this mind so glean as much information as you can from this small peek into a world a chaos and confusion where nothing is as it seems. such a girl as this is not the dark, brooding type. she is more of a sadistic joker. cheeky as they come and with a mean streak a mile long. when in a good mood she can be blunt, rude, cheeky, and stubborn. when in a bad mood....lets just say you dont want to be around harlequin in a bad mood. some say that this girl got more then her share of intelligence along with an overdose of sarcasm. the one thing she lacks the most is common sense. this darling doesnt know when to stop. there doesnt seem to be any line she wont cross...but one never knows. one thing about harlequin is that she learned at an early age to control her temper. not completely, no that isnt possible. but she became immune, for the most part, to things that would set another lycan off. this is not to say she doesnt have mood swings, because she does. she just reacts to different things then most. something that would seem completely harmless and boring to any other of her kind will push her off the deep end. its a fine line she walks, between calm and rage. anything could set her off. anything except the most obvious things that is.
artwork
the first thing that captures the attention about harlequin is the three parallel scars that run diagonally across the left side of her skull. the first starts at her tattered ear then runs down onto her muzzle. the second starts just below the first and slides right through her left eye leaving a thin white line through it and ends just below the first one. the last scar starts at the corner of her maw pulling it into a perpetual grin. it moves up over her maw to end below its mates. she is very very touchy about the scars. the second thing one notices is the eyes. deep riveting gold with small flecks of aqua and emerald around the dark pupil. strangely enough the scar does not effect her vision for the most part. there is a blurry line across the vision in that eye but nothing more. she was very lucky. being a mere four feet at the shoulder, harlequin is rather small, she is fast though and holds a formidable set of fangs in her massive jaws. because of her size she relies on stealth and speed more then strength. you wouldnt believe it possible, what with the stark contrast in her coat, but she has a way of melting into the background so as not to be seen so easily. though her coloring is not so obvious since the alabaster is often coated in a layer of filth and grime. its not that harlequin likes being dirty. no, the opposite in fact. but it makes for better camouflage then her normal alabaster and onyx hue. beneath this shaggy display muscles work to keep her moving like a well oiled machine.

sample post

The red-gold eye of the sun was just beginning to leave the green hills of the horizon behind on its way to complete the journey it took every day without fail. Ribbons of liquid gold and fire crisscrossed the cobalt sky as if painted there by a giant brush. The crisp cloudless expanse of color was framed by the icicle covered limbs of leafless trees. The frozen ground was bare but for the few sparse patches of grass that managed to survive the cruel frosts of winter and a scattering of brittle leafs left over from fall. The single sound in the forest was the whistling of the cold north wind. No creature was stupid enough to be out this early on a frigid December morning. Most of the forest was hibernating anyway and the large hoofed mammals were packed together like sardines for the shared warmth of their neighbors coat as well as their own. Those that had the means had flown south for the cold season but during the afternoons of these cold winter days many creatures still wandered the forests and meadows. There were often herds of elk, deer and even buffalo that could be seen taking turns at breaking the thick ice that covered the one source of water here; the river. But as of yet none had moved In this particular forest. But wait. There is the distinct sound of a stick breaking beneath a paw. One has woken. One that doesn’t mind the cold.

The massive paws left no mark on the frozen earth. The only way to tell they had passed was the distinct aroma of female lycan that clung to the trail along with the battered and broken branches that were left behind. Even the sharp claws protruding from the thick pads did not pierce the ice covered dirt.

UNFINISHED