Post by Rena-chan~<3 on Jul 22, 2010 22:42:29 GMT -5
[/color][/right]XX. ADAYA RANEE
Age:
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Three
My Gender:
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Female
Breed:
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Red Fox
I Am A Member Of The:
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Loner, although looking for a pack
I Uphold The Rank Of:
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n/a
XX. Information
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Appearance:
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Ranee is an average sized red fox. She stands at about sixteen inches at the shoulder, with long, slender legs which are excellent for speed. Her head is a decent size for her body, and is delicately crafted, covered in short light orange red fur. Her nose is pitch black, and the underside of her head is a creamy white. Long whiskers spike from either side of her muzzle and right above her eyes. Her ears are black on the outside, and white on the inside. Inside her mouth are neat rows of razor sharp teeth surrounded by pink gums and a moist tongue. Her neck is short, a common feature of the breed, and leads down to a moderately muscled body. The fur on her neck is thicker and more scruffy, to help prevent anyone getting a death grip about her throat.
On her chest is a three-pointed star like shape, with one point facing vertical to the ground, and the other two horizontal to it. The fur along her back is the same light orange red color as on her face. It is also coarse and thickly layered to help her coat to be water resistant. The fur on the underside of her body is a tad bit more silkier, and feels more fluffy and soft. Her legs are covered in short, red orange fur until just above her knee. From there it fades into a black color down to her paws. Her pads are thick and calloused, showing many months of travel and wear on them. Her tail is bushy in a sleek sort of way, and is a light reddish orange color until the end which is white. The very tip of her tail looks as though it was dipped into a bottle of black ink, being pure black. Overall, Ranee is about forty-three inches long and she weighs about eleven pounds.
Ranee's gaits are all smooth and energy saving, although her lope, the third fastest gait for her, is definitely the energy conserving out of all four. Her walk is either short and choppy if she's agitated, or long and smooth for her other emotions. Her trot is a rather bouncy gait, although the strides are still long and flowing. The next gait is her lope, but we already covered that. Her last gait is a gallop, or basically a flat out run. This is her most energy consuming gait, and thusly she tries not to use it very often.
Personality(150 words):
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The most important thing in the world to Ranee is power; authority, influence, notoriety, anything similar to that. Manipulation is a major tool that Ranee uses to get power. She’s excellent at manipulating others to do her will, and feels little to no guilt about it. She’s a rather shrewd and clever person, but she usually hides this behind a mask. One of the things Ranee excels at is putting up a good front. She can act sweet and innocent, but inside she is really cunning and is most likely influencing you to do whatever she wants you to do. However, she usually manages to do this in such a subtle way that you don’t even realize she’s manipulating to do her will. This gift and character trait plays a key role in the way Ranee’s mind works.
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On the outside, Ranee appears to be a fox concerned with the goodwill of others. She’s a sensitive, well meaning, and concerned member of society. She’ll coo over a kit or puppy, show to be an honest vixen, appear positive, offer helpful advice, and all sorts of things to that nature. Beneath all that, however, she truly is a cynical person. She finds others to be a meaningless waste of time – they are only tools to be used. Males to Ranee are a distraction – a very interesting distraction – but distraction nonetheless. Males are either domineering and abusive of their strength, or all “hah, I’m a man so I’m going to protect you.” Both of these cause Ranee to feel as though she’s being shoved in a box and this causes her to feel unimportant and, in a sense, claustrophobic. Ranee finds females to be either wimpy and the damsel-in-distress type, or to be overeager to prove they’re just as good as any brute. Kits, and other children, are simply annoyances – necessary to make a pack grow – but a large annoyance all the same. Regardless of this rather critical viewpoint of others, she needs them around her. She needs their praise and adoration to lift her up. Don’t get me wrong, she has no real self esteem issues, she is simply addicted to praise and admiration like a drug addict is to meth.
Part of her manipulating skill is understanding how people work. Within a few minutes of knowing someone, she can estimate what their personality is like, what type of morals they may have, and whatever such nonsense that usually motivates others. From this knowledge, she knows what angle she should come from or what point to make so that person will be more likely to agree with what Ranee wants. For the larger things that she knows the person will not agree with, she’ll weasel across smaller points and work up to the bigger wants. From this skill she can formulate speeches that are inspirational, to the point, and motivating. So, not only does she do well one-on-one, she also does well with large crowds. However, Ranee can manipulate people best when she is speaking to a small group of two or three. Ranee is also not above using what beauty she does have to her advantage. She is not the most beautiful, nor is she the ugliest either. She has an average beauty, nothing that makes her stand out. She will use this beauty, combined with slick words, to convince a male to do what she wishes. The vixen has a fierce determination and a patience to match it. It doesn’t matter how long it’ll take to get something – as long as she can, she’ll get it.
Overall? Watch out. Ranee’s in town.
History:
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Ranee was not always known as, well, Ranee. The name given to her at birth was Adaya. Adaya means ornament, something that’s nice to have, but is unnecessary. Adaya grew up the runt of her litter. Every litter has one, and although Adaya wasn’t particularly small, she was still the runt. As she grew up, the other, larger kits constantly bullied her. Her parents would put an end to the most violent rough housing, but that was only when they were around. When the parents were not around, Adaya was knocked about to the point where she may have retained some head trauma – no one is really sure if she has. However, growing up in an environment where she was always the underdog caused Adaya to realize very quickly that only the strongest would survive. So she became strong. Not through beefy muscles or simpering beauty, but her wits. Adaya became cunning, however, with this cleverness came a high price; a deep thirst for power accompanied it.
Adaya was smart, and she saw how her other siblings obeyed their parents. She realized it wasn’t necessarily because the parents were larger or stronger; it was mostly because they were smarter. They knew more. Wisdom was influence. Influence was power. Power was exactly what Adaya wanted. Although I wouldn’t call Adaya wise – foolhardy is more like it – she is certainly cunning. She knows what she wants and she knows exactly how she’ll get it too. Although it may not be the wisest thing for her to do, she’ll still do it. And this is how she got her thirst for power.
As she got older, she learned how to manipulate her siblings to do her will. Adaya learned how to play with their emotions, wants, and desires. She also learned how to use one sibling to affect another sibling in a way that pleased her. All throughout these self-taught lessons, her parents were teaching Adaya and her siblings to hunt, make/find a den, how to avoid hunters, and all other life skills that were necessary for survival. Again, Adaya was average at these things. She worked hard and didn’t slack off, regardless, she was not the strongest hunter or best den builder. Again, she used her wits to help her better herself.
Finally, she was old enough to move out on her own. The first thing she did was change her name. No longer was she “Adaya, useless ornament.” She became reborn, renewed, Ranee. Ranee found her own pack, and was determined to become the leader, however, a drought prevented the pack from gaining strength. Seeing no future of greatness in the pack, she abandoned it and moved on to another. Each time she was met with disappointments, each time she moved on – ready to start anew as a queen. Ranee has often had positions of power, although never head honcho. She usually has the position of advisor or second-in-command. Disappointed in this, she has always moved on, always kept going, looking for that perfect pack. Right now she’s in the forgotten isles, hoping that here she’ll get a chance – a chance to finally be queen.
XX. A Little Extra
Likes:
- Likes attention and praise
- Likes being in charge and being respected
- Likes it when others come to her for advice, although pretends it's a bother
Dislikes:
- Ranee dislikes others in general
- Hates being shown up by someone else.
- Dislikes when others try to take charge or take power away from her.
RP Sample:
A brunette boy strode quickly down the sidewalk, occasionally glancing left or right. He felt as though someone were watching him, and the fact that he was about to pass the town cemetery did nothing to ease his fears. The sun, barely peaking over the rooftops, began to slowly wink goodbye. Brian quickened his footsteps; he did not want to be out and about in the dark. As he passed the cemetery, a chill shuddered through him, causing the lanky boy to pull his synthetic blue jacket closer. He glanced around at the growing darkness, almost able to feel the oppressive night air close in on him. You see, Brian – being a nerd – was a big target for gangs and bullies to pick on even during daylight. At night he was like a beacon of light that just screamed “I’MMA NERD. COME PICK ON ME AND BEAT ME UP. HAHA. IT’LL BE FUN.” The boy tugged on one sleeve and ducked his head down, hoping to become invisible.
This, however, turned out to be a mistake when the smaller boy crashed into a large, angry looking guy. The guy glared down at Brian, and Brian’s mind automatically took a picture, so to say, of Corbeau’s face. As Brian stumbled away from the taller guy, his eyes closed to review the face, a habit he had formed over the years. In his mind’s eye he could see that Corbeau had unusual hair – white with the tips blackened cascaded over his icy blue eyes. Around one eye, Brian could see it was puffy, and in the fading light he could barely see that it was changing colors slightly. A strong jaw trailed down to a nicely tapered chin, which was set below thin, scowling lips. Mentally, Brian shifted his attention back to the eyes of the image in his head. The eyes were a startling shade of blue. Not only that, they had a sort of ravenous hunger in them – one Brian knew well. Hunter.
With a small gasp, Brian’s eyes popped open to see the real version of those eyes staring intently at him. He bit back a small yelp, and stumbled back away from the taller boy. ”Oh, you’ll make a great punching bag, dweeb.” Realizing what was going to happen next, Brian attempted to scramble away, but was not fast enough. A fist slammed painfully into his gut, causing a bit of spittle to come flying out of Brian’s mouth. He grunted and leaned over, gasping for breath. A hand grasped his collar, and Brian tried not to fall over as the hunter half dragged, half carried the struggling nerd into the cemetery. Brian frantically glanced around, looking for someone – anyone – to come help him. Seeing no one, Brian’s shoulders slumped and he hung limply. What little light that was available from the moonlight quickly faded as Corbeau yanked Brian into a rotting and collapsing crypt.
’Maybe this guy will let me go if I ask nicely?’ Phrasing this as a question, even in his mind, Brian fully realized the likelihood of this. However, still wanting to try, Brian spoke weakly. ”P-please don’t hu-hurt me,” whimpered Brian, hating how pathetic his voice sounded. He winced as Corbeau replied, ”Oh, I’m not going to hurt you, nerd. I’m going to destroy you.” Brian had a photographic memory, so every beating; every demeaning word used against him was permanently etched in his mind. Nevertheless, he had a feeling this one was going to hurt more then the others. Why Brian had bothered asking for mercy he didn’t know. It never made the bullies change their minds; it only gave them a perverse pleasure. This guy was no different.
The boy fell silent, waiting for Corbeau to make the next move. Brian briefly wondered if his gold rimmed eyes staring at the stronger boy unnerved him slightly, but he would never get a chance to ask. Corbeau hefted Brian across the room, and the boy hit the wall with a dull thud. He moaned slightly, and tried to stand, hoping there was still some way he could get out of this. Brian noticed that Corbeau had left the door open. That was both a good and bad omen. The bad part was that this attacker was certain no one would hear Brian, and that there was no way Brian could get away. The good part, slight as it was, was that Corbeau was over confident. Perhaps Brian could surprise him and use it to his advantage.
Not seeing any other options at the moment, Brian decided to try for the mercy roll again. ”P-p-please! D-d-don’t hurt me! Ple-please!” Brian managed to half stand, still doubled over, leaning against the crumbling wall. He was hoping his voice would carry far enough out that some one would hear him and call the police. The effort earned him a sharp kick in the side. Brian cried out and fell back to the floor. He rolled over so his face was towards the wall, and curled up into a ball, attempting to protect himself from the thunderstorm of blows that soon followed. With every blow and Brian’s every anguished cry, Corbeau laughed, almost demonic voice filling the crypt and spilling out into the cemetery. Suddenly, the storm of blows stopped, and only the sharp aching pains remained. Dimly, Brian heard his attacker yell something about a mutt. However, the boy was too busy trying to get his limbs moving so he could escape this hellhole. Unfortunately, this wasn’t working out too well for him.
Giving up on the escape plan, Brian instead curled himself into a tight ball, hoping that if he remained still whatever had scared off his attacker would ignore him. Brian winced as a harsh voice cut through his pain. ”Lyx! Status!” Brian heard a small growl/moan sound coming from someone other then him. A warm, wet thing swiped against his cheek, and he whimpered, trying to scoot away from it. Who knew how many germs were on that dog’s tongue? Brian’s brain switched into nerd mode as he determined it would depend on what the dog ate, how often it saw the vet and dentists, and how often his mouth got cleaned; but still. Ick!
Someone walked towards them, old leaves and rock crunching beneath their feet. He heard the gravel crunch in a specific way as the person kneeled beside him. ”Hey, how bad are you hurt? I’m Officer Nikkie O’Hara. Don’t worry,” she said, motioning to the dog, ”This is my partner Lyx. We’re gonna help you.” the gentle voice said. Strong arms picked Brian up, the pain of moving causing him to cry out. Furious with himself for continuing to show weakness, he cut off his cry by biting his already bleeding lip and clenched his eyes shut. A rocking movement came next, hinting to Brian that he was being lifted and carried somewhere. He was set upon a cold, stone bench, and although it was done gently, he still whimpered with the pain, ”Hello?” the soft voice came again, ”I’m not going to hurt you. I’m an Officer; you can all me Nikkie, if you’d like.”
Brian attempted to open his eyes, wincing at how horribly swollen they were already. Oh well, it wasn’t as if black eyes was something new. He was always getting beat up every once in a while, and was quite used to having black eyes. The boy’s eyesight was blurry – somewhere along the way he had lost his glasses. Brian bet some of the glass shards were embedded in his face somewhere. ”O-Off-Officer… N-Nikkie?” He stuttered, trying to get his cracked and swollen lips to work. ”Yes, dear?” she replied, leaning closer to hear him. Brian winced as more pain shot through his ribcage. His breaths, short and shallow, only increased the sharp ache deep within his chest. Bleary eyes focused on something behind Nikkie’s head, beyond the skeleton trees in the cemetery. Brian lifted his head, eyes shifting to Nikkie’s face. The boy drew in a larger breath, trying to get enough air to speak again. ”The Moon passes through four major shapes during a cycle that repeats itself every 29.5 days.” His head dropped back down, short breaths coming quicker from the energy he had just expended with that fact.
This is my character from another proboard, hope its okay ^_^
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Image copyrighted to Gloria Gypsy Designs
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