Post by brutalis on Jan 29, 2012 13:41:58 GMT -5
~Your Demonic Queen~
The Basics
Full Curse: Brutalis Silveria Nightshade
Calling: Brutal
Winters: 85
Bloodline: Warg
Vinei/Cuulu: Cuulu (Shadow)
The Lineage
By: Shadow
Out of: Nocturna
Grand Patron: Unknown
Grand Matron: Deadly Nightshade
Male Look-A likes: deceased
Female Look-A likes: deceased
Half Look-A likes: Nurakshi Sylver DarkWolfe
Chosen: None
Desires: None
Produced: Abyss, Purgatory, Oblivion (grown, whereabouts unknown)
The Physical
General Appearance: Nightmarish. Massively built, often mistaken for a brute at first glance. Powerfully muscled, massively scarred from the many battles she has fought. Coat of the purest onyx, a single orb of silver hue glares out from deep within socket. Bears only a single intact aud. No superfluous flesh is to be found, she is nothing but solid muscle and sinew.
Height: 60 inches (5 feet) to the withers
Weight: 300 lbs
Pelt: Deepest onyx, thick, somewhat matted
Markings/Scars: Many scars cover her massive frame, but some stand out more than others. Among them are the missing right eye, where now only an empty socket remains, filled with pinkish masses of scar tissue and a few sparse hairs. Right ear is nothing more than a tatter of useless ribbons of flesh. Her chest bears a triple diagonal slash and her right flank bears a double diagonal slash. These were all earned during the final battle with her father.
The Mental
Persona: Cold, cruel, cares little for brutes, has a soft spot for femorahs and pups; especially those who were abused, tolerates very little, will not hesitate to punish one for breaking a rule of the pack, mistrustful. Favorite prey is elk, for snacks, she rather enjoys those pesky coyotes and rabbits. She tends to keep to herself, even among her pack, letting her presence be known only during important situations, such as new arrivals, law breakers, and war. She can NOT be approached on her blind right side, to do so is asking the most severe punishments, whether it is your first offense or not. She enjoys torturing small animals and making a bru's life a living hell. She is truly of the darkest alignment, really, even going into chaotic and evil like some wayward hell hound.
The Story
This creature was truly one with the night. She embraced the darkness, for it gave her the solace she needed to prowl, and hunt, unseen, and undetected. So what exactly did she look like? She came across as a walking nightmare when in full view. Kohl pelt was marred with a barrage of battle scars, crudely decorating her hide like a bizzare roadmap. A majority of the scars were small in stature, and yet, there were others of frightening expanses. Like the one noticable upon that broad, powerful chest, easily it measured six inches long, but the diameter was the most intriguing. Clearly, this wound must have been opened time and time again, for it was easily three inches across. Her face was like none other. One ear had been so severely damaged in some long ago battle that all that was left of it was useless ribbons of shredded and tattered flesh to be blown around by a breeze or her own movements, totally useless in any way. The damage wrought upon that ear had also cost her her hearing from within it. When she had her face turned towards another in full view, a ghastly discovery was then made. A single silver hue glared malevolently from the right side of her face, no pupil found within. But upon the left side, one would see an empty socket, nothing within it but a mass of scar tissue and sparse fur. One large scar seemed to connect both the eye and the tattered ear. It began upon the right side of her face, skirting over the remaining orb, diving across the bridge of her nose, then curving upward to pluck out the left eye, continuing upward, seeming to end at the base of her useless ear. Clearly, fighting for her life was nothing new to her, but one often wondered why she ended up the way she did. She was cold and calculating, a merciless killer when need arised, with a severe hatred for the male gender. Any male she would come in contact with was a creature to be demolished, attacked, and killed if at all possible. Although there were some instances in which she'd have to bite back her rage and wait until a more opportune moment. It did not bother her, for she was the Goddess of the night.. feared, hated, loved, and awed all at once. She knew justice would prevail, whatever her twisted, feral, uncivilized version of justice was. Her past will always haunt her.
Most every creature has had some sort of painful, possibly horrific parts of thier past. But few have ever had a past so full of hatred, lies, deceit, and violence as this one had. From early on in life, her hatred for males was nurtured, and the cruel ways she has today were expressed even back then. From a very young pup, she was molded to hate. If one was ever lucky enough to be able to hear her life story from her own lips, it would be shortened version of what actually happened.
She was born largest in a rather small litter of four. Her father had spent many months courting her mother, even before Nocturna went into season. He talked smoothly to her, brought her small gifts, layed on every inch of charm that he had. However, Nocturna was to later discover that Shadow was anything but a faithful, reliable mate to be honored with. When Nocturna finally went into season, they'd mated, producing the small litter. Nocturna was pleased to have pups of her own, but something inside Shadow seemed to slowly change over time, as if he began to resent her and the small family she'd given him. When Brutal and her littermates were around twelve weeks of age, Shadow began disappearing late at night, giving all sorts of excuses to Nocturna as to why he must leave so late. Nocturna was frequently left alone all night, having to care for and defend for the pups all on her own. Little things began eating away at her mind, and finally, she decided to follow him one day. Perhaps he'd been far to excited to even notice her following him, melted into the shadows, for he -should- have been able to sense her. Or perhaps he did know she was there, and was beyond the point of caring. He traveled to another section of the forest, howling softly. From within a den, a female timberwolf slipped out to greet him. Nocturna knew the scent of estrous, and it took all her willpower to not rush out and attack them both as they made love in the manner only known to wild beasts. She quickly turned and loped home, tending to her family as if nothing had happened. He returned, and a fierce argument broke out between them. In a fit of rage, his talons slashed open her cheek, leaving a flap of skin hanging. Then he stormed out again. This routine went on for quite some time until Brutal was about one year of age. Her father had come back after visiting one of his whores, and Nocturna attacked him a furious rage. He fought back, severely wounding Nocturna. He drug her into the woods and left her for dead. Insanity had overcome him as he stormed back into the den, snarling curses as he pushed his way towards the terrified young. Brutal had attacked him then, fighting with a fierce tenacity never seen in her kind before. He managed to win, though, and yet, he didn't win. His intent was to kill them all. but Brutal alone managed to escape into the woods, with the shrieks, screams, and howls of her dying siblings echoing in her mind. She vowed to kill him once she had the strength.
The next several years were spent training herself in close combat. She learned every trick in the book, and then returned "home." Her father was still in the same den, with a new bi.t.ch curled alongside him, nursing a litter of ten. He seemed content now, totally unaware that his own daughter had arrived to sign his death warrant. When the attack came, he barely had time to react. She was everywhere at once, twisting, leaping, snarling,snapping. He'd had no time to defend himself. She tortured him for hours, smirking as she noticed the female didn't even attempt to help him. Finally, she stood over him, her face a mask of terrifying rage. She ignored his pathetic pleas to spare him.. she'd learned mercy was for the weak. Head shot forward, jaws opening slowly, saliva dripping off those jagged yellow fangs, bloodlust in her eyes. Jaws snapped closed with twenty times the force of a steel leg-hold trap, a pleasing shiver drifted through her body as fangs pierced the jugular, spiling her father's lifeblood. A deft twist and a jerk, and her father's throat was neatly removed, to be spat out atop his muzzle. She then turned to the female with a snarl, but did not attack. The female had no clue, and perhaps, she'd saved her from the pain and torment her mother went through. With the death howl echoing forth from her maw, she tore off into the night, never to return.
Other Information: Brutal has lived a harsh life. Because of this, she is unsocial, and can not stand males. She does tolerate them when she has no choice, but woe the male to cross her. She has a short fuse, and is easily angered. She is capable of making friends, and is loyal to a fault, for she will never stab someone in the back. She is cold and harsh, cruel in her behaviors. It takes a while to get used to her.[/i]