INUAKAMORI.

[FALLENBLOOD]

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[atrb=background,http://i.imgur.com/ZZp5T.png] - - - - NAME. Inuakamori. - - - - ALIAS. Inu. - - - - GENDER. male. - - - - AGE. seven years. - - - - BREED. Anatolian Shepherd. - - - - SEXUALITY. heterosexual. - - - - ALLEGIANCE. the East. - - - - EYES. golden-yellow. - - - - FUR. tan, black, white. - - - - BUILD. tall, athletic, regal. - - - - DISTINGUISHING MARKS. the collar. - - - - HEIGHT. 35 inches at shoulder. - - - - OVERALL PERSONALITY. He is marble. With no other way to properly describe it, it comes down to the epitome of the bad boy - with a presence that flat-out dares someone to try and outsmart him, he is tall, dark, mysterious, and just plain sexy. He is endlessly intelligent and perceptive, and often uses this as well as his cynical humor and endless sarcasm to push the buttons of anyone within his presence. He finds it amusing to needle them to the point of anger, to push them as far as he can without his aggression becoming an issue. He is possessive. Despite being a bit of a tease (what with those butterscotch eyes and the air that practically oozes raw sensuality and daring), Inuakamori can come across as arrogant and territorial. What is his is his, and he is often consumed by jealousy if something of particular value to him is threatened by another's presence. Females, especially, are quite easy to pull in with his rough and growl-like tone of voice, but it is the rather fearful idea of losing what he comes to love or has earned that keeps him from forming hard attachments. Often vicious and merciless unintentionally, he has been known to force away even those he cares so much for in a slight moment of overwhelming uncertainty and anger. He is compassionate. But, now and again, he has the ability to be intensely passionate in nature both physically and mentally, though this can be somewhat overwhelming even for him. He will give absolutely everything he is capable of giving, even if it is just quiet - no flowery words or extravagant gifts from him, because what you see if what you get, and in the end, if you love him enough, the silence speaks far louder with him than anything else ever could. She is devastating. This all said, though, is entirely contradicted by that tiny little voice in the back of his head named Enyo. Born of a promise better left alone, this little bitch is just that: a bitch. She is the birth of Inuakamori's schizophrenic paranoia, his visions and flight from things that are not there, his hallucinations and crippling social skills. She is his destroyer, despite how much he absolutely loves her. She is forceful and ambitious in everything she does, cruel and heartless with those she has the chance to interact with. And as she further progresses her power over the whims of their shared mind, Enyo is beginning to lead Inuakamori into destruction and chaos, a fire burning within his very soul, tied to him by the Gods, taking him into ashes and oblivion. - - - - FATHER. Khronos. - - - - MOTHER. Ananke. - - - - SIBLING(S). Odysseus. Obelix. - - - - NON-BLOOD FAMILY. n/a. - - - - OVERALL HISTORY. His lifetime did not begin when he was born, and it did not begin when he was conceived; to be more precise, it began when the Stag met the Doe. Khronos was a young and reckless "teenager" at the time, and he was nothing more than your typical wild boy, hooting and hollering at every female he came across (they were all unimpressed). He, like any young male, was raging with hormones and looking to begin his own "harem" after leaving his mother's side for good. Khronos wandered for roughly a year, unsuccessfully attempting to steal females, outrunning the angry males whom he had tried to steal them from, etc. Meanwhile, Inu's mother Ananke had left home voluntarily, knowing the time to go was now; the other males in the "village" did not suit her in the slightest. Through a series of events, Ananke and Khronos finally met, and of course Khronos had to have her/she gave in/ all that dramatic love bullshit happened. They eloped, and not along afterwards a single pup was born. Inuakamori himself. Both Khronos and Ananke were exceptional parents who tried to teach their Inu the best of life's lessons. When it came down to the naming, his mother named him immediately on sight. "My little hellion," was the first thing she could say when she peered into her son's strangely depthless and beautiful yellow-gold eyes. Khronos adored him, and would often spend the evenings playing with little Inu, until the moon was well into the sky and the temperature had dropped considerably. Though he is not one to flaunt drama and tragedy, Inuakamori's life has never been lacking in it. Despite the wonderful start to life, things abruptly took a turn for the worst at the ripe age of a single year. It was then that Khronos was killed, though he took with him the male who'd threatened his family. Inuakamori never quite figured out what happened after that, but something seemed to snap in his mother, and he became the victim of her random rages as frequently as he had let him feed. However, Inu found a way to combat this, and find little joys.. by protecting and playing with Khronos' legacy when they were born two months after his death. Two brothers, twins, Odysseus and Obelix. Inuakamori doted on his siblings, probably more than most would, and thus, he was absolutely heartbroken when little Obelix was killed in a particularly murderous storm, crushed by a fallen telephone pole. It deeply wounded the young male's heart, and once Odysseus was old enough, Inuakamori handed over the responsibility of their useless mother, told them both to take care, and fled the city. After that, Inuakamori spent some time wandering, getting some of his scars, and doing everything a lone male did. He kept to the shadows, though he sought companionship now and again, and it was doing this that he would meet a young Retriever male and a Labrador male, Dotro and Kuro. They banded together, becoming rather the bane of the bachelor's planes, and stayed together for a few years, wandering about before they found their respective homes. Kuro found a young Beagle female whom was known as Halia, and went with her. Dotro found a rather fiery Collie beauty known as Sayuri, and went with her. It was a sad parting, but unlike most, the males promised to keep in contact in some way and form, even if it was just a passing hello when they saw each other. After this, Inuakamori wandered some more, before he found a joy of his own. Alejandre was almost as tall as he, willowy, pale cream, shy, but sweet and kind. Probably not a female anyone who knew Inuakamori expected him to fall for, but Alejandre was and still is the love of Inuakamori's life. He protected her fiercely, and she bore two pups in their first litter, two in their second. Cronus was the first born, named as a memoir to Inuakamori's father. Demeter, My Love was second, and her beautiful light brown eyes akined her to the well-known Goddess Demeter herself. In the second litter, was Persephone's Sorrow, as shy and sweet as her mother, with the same wide blue eyes. The last born was Dmitry Vie, named after Khronos' long dead sister, a cheeky female who was the apple of her sire's eyes. Inuakamori's life was, quite simply, as perfect as it could be after the heartache he'd endured. However, Heartache clearly was not finished with him. He had long since established his Arizona Palace in his father's now-abandoned niche of the city, and in it he built a castle and an empire. His subjects were loyal and respectful, for the most part. He had even re-connected with an old-time friend named Erebus Peitho, and she was his most loyal advisor. On a particularly lovely Spring morning, Erebus wished to see the rose blooms just on the edge of the city Inuakamori owned, and the Alpha male humored himself with going with her. Upon their return, the castle (a warehouse) itself had been burned and his entire family had been killed by his subjects, who had dealt under his strict rule for long enough. They exiled him, and he went along his way with Erebus Peitho. The loss of his Alejandre and Dmitry Vie stung him particularly bad, though the entirety of it still weighs heavily on his mind. (As an added note, he did return at a later date to wreck vengeance upon those who had done him wrong. he never again did claim his title at the Arizona Palace, though.) Completely and utterly hateful of the world at this point, Inuakamori began his wanders again, though he also sent Erebus Peitho on to establish her own life. Still, today, he is hoping to reclaim his title as an Alpha, if only to spite those who took that title away from him. He hopes to bring peace with his lost ones with an Angel's Keep to send them home. - - - - RP SAMPLE. jealousy is an ugly word, but you don't seem to care. converse behind my back, but now i'm here. Inuakamori had never experienced such dread before. He had imagined his homecoming to be filled with joy and a chorus of relief and his pups greedy for presents. He had imagined himself laughing with them and rolling through the soft grasses with them, their tiny teeth prickling his skin in their play. He could see his Queen glowing, her joy and love overshadowing all else as she welcomed him back with a lick on his chin and a smile on her beautiful maw. But the sight of smoke beyond the hill that led to his mountainside home froze his blood over and made his stride falter. He nearly fell. And in that moment, he had the strange thought of his brother. He realized this must be what his brother would have felt for all of his life, always knowing something horrible was out there, and there was no way to fight it. Prevention was a good means, yes, but nothing is impossible. Treason runs deeper than blood, and fire kills quicker than water. And now he stood where his front gate had once been, and the dread had been replaced with something cold and unfeeling. His yellow eyes were blank, staring fixedly to where his palace had once stood firm. 'I was gone three days,' Inuakamori thought distantly, his mind clouded with pain as he struggled to process things. The world seemed to be moving in slow-motion. 'Only three days. How..?' Before his eyes, the Arizona Palace was crumbling into burning rubble. He was only vaguely aware of the crack and tumble of seasoned timbers, of the far off laughter of wolves as they destroyed his home, and the roar of the flames. All noise was muted by the thundering of the blood in his ears. 'How can my blood still be flowing,' he thought in a monotone, his form still frozen at the fallen iron-wrought gates of his fortress, 'when my heart has stopped?' Crimson blinded his sight a moment later. Blood. Blood was everywhere. It clogged his nostrils with its taunting scent, the taste of it sharp and metallic on his recoiling tongue. His blood was flowing, and so was the blood of everyone else who had lived in the Arizona Palace. Only, his veins were closed, and his faithful servants had long since bled themselves out. Their bodies were strewn across the landscape, gruesome expressions and broken limbs the tale-tell sign of pain. Oh yes, they had suffered. He could recognize the distinct patterns of their fur, the startling colors of their eyes without the light behind it. There was no more animation in their features, none of the joy and contentment they had once resonated. The smoke and ash and blood and sorrow and grotesque brutality of this place was nearly breathable. No, scratch that, he couldn't breath. Each slip of air curled inside him, choking and insidious. It was in his hair and bones, seeping into his skin like poison. The air was so thick it was almost sticky. It settled on him, lifted his hair ponderously in rancid waves, and coated him in its corruption, heavy and malodorous. He was not immediately aware of the fact that he was moving forward now. He had stepped slowly across the foyer and onto the tiled floor of what had once been his front room. Behind him, he heard the sad keening of Agapi as the Malinois backed away from the carnage of the burning house. She crumpled on the sodden ground, her wails picking up in frequency, pitch and volume as her grief overwhelmed them. Three days. Beneath his paws, the ground was hard but slippery; puddles of thick, red blood mixed with the earth on the once pristine white tiles, giving off the hard metallic scent of iron. The disgust confused him - he had never balked from the scent of blood before - but he walked resolutely, even as the smell of iron and salt snaked around his claws, curled around his form. There was just.. so much blood. It seemed almost unreal, something out of a horror story of childhood times. But it was so, so devastatingly real. He watched as the grand staircase collapsed even more, and he waited for something inside him to snap, something to give way to the crazed anger and sorrow he could feel coiling beneath the surface. But he remained numb. He knew he should feel angry, but instead he wanted to sink to the ground and sleep. All he had ever fought for and built up and kept was falling down around him in tiny, crumbling pieces, one by one. And all because he had wandered out with Agapi to see the spring roses in their first bloom in a meadow not far from the edge of his territory. His toes touched something. Inuakamori looked down. It was a severed paw. The light of the fire cast strange shadows across its cream colored fur, but he could see the paleness that the loss of blood caused. And on it.. on it was a scent he knew so well.. Her scent was all around this area, he realized. That sweet lilac and honeysuckle scent was so prominent here that he was surprised she was not standing directly beside him. Somewhere off to his right he could detect the sour scent of semen against the dirt, and the rankness of urine and excrement covered the small patch of earth that used to be her garden. The smell, as well, was her's. The dawn of knowledge was gradual as he fought to understand, as the slowness of this burning hatred parted to let him in. The knowledge crept into his brain, settling around his chest with cold coils of dread and denial. But there was no use in attempting to deny this. Not when it was so plainly here in front of him. Literally. She had lain here while they raped her - too many to count, the acrid scent of sweat lay beneath the other odors - and then she had been disemboweled. No, not even disemboweled. Not even killed quickly and painlessly.. He knew this, because curving off in at least ten different directions were the almost undetectable trains of Dmitry Vie. They had cut her apart, and drug her off, dragging blood and tears and the stench of internal organs behind her. And Inuakamori knew. She had been butchered. They had sliced her into tiny little cruel pieces and carried her off to where he could not reach her. Even his Gods could not bring her back. Erebus, the pathway from heaven to earth, and from earth to the underworld.. Even his Erebus could not bring her back. Dmitry Vie was gone. Another burning timber fell, the echoing crash deafening to his close proximity, the screech of his beloved sister begging him to leave the wreckage before he was injured himself. Inuakamori ignored everything. Next to the horrible wreckage of his most loyal retainer was a scrap of cloth. Moving as though he were in a dream - a horrible dream, from which he could never wake up - Inuakamori moved toward it and gazed down at it solemnly, ignoring the hideous blackness of the bloody ground that would stain his red paws. His paw felt hollow, like the bones of a bird, as he touched the cloth with a single claw and brought it to his face. It was a deep indigo blue, with a trace of pink on one ragged edge. It smelled like Dmitry Vie; soaked with her blood and her tears, the scrap of cloth tickled his nose, but felt like nothing cradled on the pad of his paw. 'She really loved that old scarf,' he thought nonsensically. 'I think it was her favorite.' And with that, he looked away, back to the carnage of his wrecked home. He gazed around numbly, noting absently that Agapi had fled. There was nothing left except the smells of suffering, and for a long time Inuakamori stood in the dying light of the day, in the dying light of his life, and breathed death. "Ah, Inuakamori, the great Dark Phoenix. We wondered when you would come home," a voice behind him finally said, its tone laced with sarcasm and mocking. Inuakamori refused to turn around. He was not going to acknowledge the voice, for it was the voice of one of his father’s most loyal vassals, Naketsu. Naketsu, he thought. And on the wind, above the stench of death, were others.. Jurekaru, Hatore, Suikoshin.. Lords he had known from birth, all of them traitors, inconstant, succumbing to the whims of their selfish desires. He should be so angry. But instead there was just a yawning emptiness inside him, and he knew instinctively that it could never be filled again. All the anger in the world would just disappear into its echoing depths; all his wounded pride and cherished vengeance and denied desire would be swallowed up, never to resurface. There was adrenaline running, humming beneath his skin, but he was hollow. A shell covered in a shadow of rage. He could feel nothing. The inferno of his ancestral home roared and belched a dying breath to the sky. "She should have run." It was the voice of Jurekaru, a silver and brown wolf who had taught Inuakamori how to fight against energy attacks and how to run swiftly and avoid obstacles. Inuakamori's lips twitched reflexively, curling slightly upward of their own volition. Behind him, someone snickered. There was red fog covering his vision, and Inuakamori blinked to clear it. He had thought his heart had stopped, but that was not the case. He could feel it thundering in his chest. For some strange, detached corner of his mind, he watched himself with mild disinterest. The red fog was not going away. "At least she was a bit of fun," said the gravelly tones of Suikoshin, who had been his father’s best friend when Inuakamori was still a pup, and the scratching tones of his voice sounded like splintering wood, bringing back so many memories. "Traitors," Inuakamori snarled, and he sounded to himself as though he were far, far away. "Your father fell because he was leeching out his disgusting blood, and these lands were chaos for many years until you finally took over. We saw you following in his footsteps. What were we to do?" Not this, Inuakamori's mind supplied. The red in his vision was being replaced with darkness. "Inu. Here." Slowly, he turned around, his glowing yellow eyes dull and lifeless as he gazed blankly at the band of traitors. Something thick and silky tangled across the claws of his forepaws. It was her hair. Thick, glossy, so well cared for that it was a wonder she found time to even hunt for herself, and now it was caught and twisted around his limbs, sliced from her body. It clung to the contours of his body and his skin, grasping tendrils wrapping themselves around him, and it felt so heavy he thought he would fall to his knees. The world was gilded pale gold by the early dawn sunlight, the joyous songs of the birds brightening this lonely landscape with their morning greetings. The air was fresh and clear, the sky bright and blue. There was no sign of smoke, no less the scent of ash and blaze. The grass and moss was thick beneath his paws, no sign of charred earth in its midst. No, this place had no ties to the devastated land of his nightmares, but there was something filling him that was so dark and sullen that it took a few long moments for Inuakamori to actually recognize the emotion, as it had been absent from him for that very long. It was like hot magma poured down the inside of his spine, pooling in his belly and setting him on fire from the inside. Everything around him seemed absurdly wrong, as if he were lying askew across the parallel lines of the universe; he felt cramped and useless, like a broken and badly repaired puzzle piece jammed into a spot where it no longer fit. He was trapped in his own body, far away from where he was supposed to be, far from his fractured memories and the lands of his ancestors, in this place that meant nothing to him, and the only reason he was there was due to treachery and deceit. Insects were crawling beneath his skin; his head hurt in a way that had nothing to do with any physical ailments, and he could feel his toes curling to dig sharp claws into the soft earth. His soul was trying to break free of his very skin. Unconsciously, he lifted his lips to bare his teeth in a harsh snarl, the sound of his growl loud and sharp in the morning air. Inuakamori was enraged. His sensitive hearing picked up the distant sound of the alarm as he came down the mountain, pads barely skimming the cool grass that flew by beneath him. It was rising up from beyond the ruins of his ancestral home, in the sprawling, new-built compound further down the mountainside – a call to arms, dark and shrill against the heavy night. His teeth were already bared, his muscles preparing for this with adrenaline in his body, waiting for the first dead body to come running out of the house. "In war, it is best to think of them as corpses," his father had said, his voice rich and dark and the blood still fresh on his lips. In front of Inuakamori, still small and young, the headless body in the middle of the road twitched and stank of bowels loosed. His father had been taken by surprise, and hadn’t made a clean cut the first time. Later, Inuakamori would learn to make a clean kill, quickly and efficiently, so the trauma wouldn’t void the bladder and the bowels. But right then, he had just wanted to vomit from the stench. "They may be moving, they may still be living," the musical voice had continued, and the little Anatolian with yellow eyes and the burden of fate felt his stomach turn violently, "but they are all corpses all the same. Just breathing, walking corpses who will try to make you a carcass as well. But you are my son. You are the conqueror, and they are not. They are just corpses in your way. ".. They are dead, but they don’t know it. "Yet. "Quick now, you can’t hesitate," his father had said, and had showed him how to snap the neck of an adult elk with a simple twist of his jaws. Inuakamori had practiced on a fawn, who had screamed pitifully, and the noise had scraped down the inside of Inuakamori's skull, making his skin crawl over his bones. "No hesitation" said his father, blood dripping from his chin as he tore effortlessly into the elk’s white belly, the sweet aroma of food making Inuakamori's stomach growl. But Inuakamori had long since gotten over his squeamishness at the thought of blood on his paws, of the hulking body of an elk so close to his own. He had long since conquered his wariness, and was now a very skilled hunter. The forest gave him all the shadow he needed as he crept slowly forward, his body low and his eyes sharp as he gazed out at the small band of white-tailed deer. The three does had their heads down, wide ears tossing frequently as they grazed. Their buck stood atop a small hill off to the side, head high and wide eyes wearily watching for danger. His senses were open for predators, but as he skimmed the foliage for movement, he brushed over Inuakamori without hesitation. He did not see the shadowed tan pelt against the deep woodsy colors of the forest. Inuakamori blended in a place like this. He nearly purred his joy as he crept farther forward, yellow eyes fixed on the pulsing spot in the buck’s shaggy neck, the point where his pulse was strongest. He was food. "No hesitation, my son. No joy, no fear. No mercy." In one effortless and practiced move, Inuakamori rocked himself onto his haunches for a mere second before very literally flinging himself at the still unaware buck. He launched himself into the air, sailing across vegetation and rock before impacting hard with the rock that the buck had perched himself upon. With a sharp snarl deep in his throat, Inuakamori lunged for the buck’s throat as the animal let out a startled bellow, just beginning his turn to flee. Inuakamori was faster, somewhat more lithe and flexible, and he turned in on himself as the buck attempted to stamp him into the ground. He felt teeth cut through skin, through muscle, through sinew and vein, and finally against bone. He felt the immediate burst of blood across his muzzle, could smell the fear of the animals around him, and heard the harsh cries of the does as their faithful buck collapsed in death. Inuakamori allowed him to fall at his heavy paws, bringing his head up in a huge sweep as he claimed his kill with a harsh growl and plainly bared teeth. This was his conquest, his kill, and he would enjoy it without interruption. But he felt no pride in his achievement. No, there was no happiness behind this kill. "No joy," his father had said. need no one to comply with me through everyone that i defeat. don't need you, fuck camaraderie, this rage will never go away. (Hopefully an older post from him will do?)

[Vindictive]

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