Post by >> Dagda on Aug 17, 2010 16:01:18 GMT -7
you woke up , in pieces ,
Dagda Zalen
Dagda, Dag, Dagger
Male
Grey Wolf x Coyote
16 years, 9 months
Lonerr
No Rank. 'Cause he's just special, in that way. :3
Shifting
from making these changes ,
fur color: Sorta grey - if you catch him after a bath. Normally he's all dusty and brown-ish with a definite brown dash along the nose. Rather darkish-black fur towards his spine. This can change darker and lighter, depending on the surrounding environment.
eye color: Magneta -Le gasp- You heard me right. He has pink eyes. D:< Well, his left eye is pink. His right eye was lost a while ago - along with his family - but has healed over nicely so it appears it didn't exist in the first place.
height: 35.8 inches
weight: 79 lbs
build: Tall-ish and rather bulky build.
noticeable marks: Faint, blue-ish witch rune for 'Silence' on left foreleg and witch rune for 'Three' just at the corner of his left eye.
quick description: Dagda looks like a wolf dragged through a hedge backwards - and if you commented on it, he'd probably cuff you round the ear as he agreed. He isn't one for looks, so never looks after himself and is generally in a very dusty, old-looking state when one chances a glance on him. Very rarely would a wolf find this guy squeaky clean. Because of this, one rarely sees the blue markings beneath the dust, but they're still there. He's missing his right eye and the wounds healed rather nicely, so it looks like he never had one in the first place.
and holding the ransom ,
won't write you an anthem ,
Key, Dagda, WW - Whatever yall want c:
Robot, fool! ..Nah. Female.
Through a link on an advert off the site 'The Lovely Bones'. I was attracted by the name 'Thirteen'.. Figures. >-<
Nyeh. None. Shameful Dagda is all alonee. D:<
this broken heart was stronger then ,
'Fuck 'er. Fuck life. No, wait- Fuck livin' in general.' Silently, I nodded my head in quiet satisfaction. Yeah, much better.
Females these days were so bloody touchy about their territory - worse than males, even. So what if I happened to be sleepin' in her bloody cave? Wasn't like she stuck up a freakin' sign post sayin' 'This 'ere's my cave so leave i' alone'. If she'd didn't do that, how was I supposed to bloody well know that she'd claimed it? Sure, there was a scent, but it wasn't fresh, yeah? ..Well, not too fresh. And the blood on the walls ain't a sign of ownership; anyone coulda done that. So you're left with the plain 'ole fact that there's nothin' claiming that fuckin' cave as yours - not that I wanted the cave. It was a shitty cave. A ghastly cave. A downright fuckin' disgrace of a cave. It mattered not one bloody bit that I'd just been run off a cave by some female with powers of fire. Not one fuckin' bit.
..Yeah. And I could keep tellin' myself that. Nearing the edge of the land, I stopped and looked downward. Staring down at the water in the pond, bitter eyes glared back. Bitter pink eyes, which mocked me under the ripples. Fuckin' mother. Why the 'ell did she have to be born with freakin' magneta eyes? Couldn't they have been something different? Normal, maybe? Like.. Like.. Gah. Aggravated at my own thoughts, I shook my head with a snarl, ruffling it in the light wind. Dust flew up in a cloud from my fur, dislodged from the crevises and angrily attacking my eyesight with vengeance. Like.. Gold! Yeah, why couldn't she have bloody gold eyes? Gold would have been far easier to live with. I mean, every wolf with normal breedin' had gold-ish eyes, right? So much easier to live with. I would have fuckin' killed the bitch, if she wasn't already dead.
Ugh. Stupid pink eyes. Spontaneously - man, that was a freakin' awesome word - I snapped a clawed limb out and dashed it across the vivid eyes. Hah, now wasn't that amusing? If someone did that to me, I'd be bloody blind. And no joke on the bloody! The idea was morbidly amusing. At least I'd never see the pink eyes again. Wouldn't see the green of the forest again, either - but hell, I could deal with that. Maybe, if they bled enough, my eyes would be dyed red. That would be nice. 'Dagda, the big scary wolf with demon red eyes'. A lot freakin' better than Dagda, the happy wolf with pink eyes!'. Kinda like that freak who led the Tidus pack. What was her name now? Ah, Motion. I could be a Motion clone! ..Nah, I'd have to be female. Well, that damn sucked.
My paw came to rest in the water for a moment longer than necessary, and a hesitant flicker of scales touched it, making me pull it back out in jerky alarm. Hell no. There was no way I was going to turn into a fuckin' fish for hell's sake. For a moment, I could see a greyish fish with blue markings flopping around on the land. Ruddy hell. There was no way I was shifting into a fish. Although, that could go in the pot of 'Unused Ideas' for later. It would be slightly amusing to see if I was still dusty and dirty in fish form. Though the idea of getting wet or gaining slimy scales immediately cancelled that idea. Ugh. Freakin' complications were makin' my head hurt.
'Fuck movin'. I'm just gonna sit here for a while. Too much energy wasted lookin' for caves without bloody females in them, waitin' to bite your freakin' tail off.' Much better idea.
Dagda Zalen
Dagda, Dag, Dagger
Male
Grey Wolf x Coyote
16 years, 9 months
Lonerr
No Rank. 'Cause he's just special, in that way. :3
Shifting
from making these changes ,
fur color: Sorta grey - if you catch him after a bath. Normally he's all dusty and brown-ish with a definite brown dash along the nose. Rather darkish-black fur towards his spine. This can change darker and lighter, depending on the surrounding environment.
eye color: Magneta -Le gasp- You heard me right. He has pink eyes. D:< Well, his left eye is pink. His right eye was lost a while ago - along with his family - but has healed over nicely so it appears it didn't exist in the first place.
height: 35.8 inches
weight: 79 lbs
build: Tall-ish and rather bulky build.
noticeable marks: Faint, blue-ish witch rune for 'Silence' on left foreleg and witch rune for 'Three' just at the corner of his left eye.
quick description: Dagda looks like a wolf dragged through a hedge backwards - and if you commented on it, he'd probably cuff you round the ear as he agreed. He isn't one for looks, so never looks after himself and is generally in a very dusty, old-looking state when one chances a glance on him. Very rarely would a wolf find this guy squeaky clean. Because of this, one rarely sees the blue markings beneath the dust, but they're still there. He's missing his right eye and the wounds healed rather nicely, so it looks like he never had one in the first place.
and holding the ransom ,
"Aye, what the 'ell are you doin' 'ere? Bloody 'ell, if ya wanted ta know 'bout my 'istory, ya just needed ta say! Goin' on with all this freakin' threats-"
Oh quiet down, Dagda: they're not here to talk to you! Do excuse the grouchy wolf in the corner, dearie, because he's just a plain 'ole hermit. Between me and you though, he tends to go on a bit about this and that. Big old weirdo could go on for hours about anything, be it the weather or how to catch a rabbit! No bloody clue how he got the silence mark, with his mouth..
Ah, yes. You wanted to know of him, correct? Well, from the little demonstration above, you may have figured out that Dagda is a little bit of a hermit. Ya see, he's not all that sociable, the silly old bastard. He avoids company like it's the plague - although, in some cases, I suppose such things are possible. In this, at least, he lives up to the mark for 'Silence' on his left foreleg, and just skirts around anyone he sees. I'm not kiddin' mate - he'd prefer to talk to a bird, rather than a good, old-fashioned canine like you and me! He's strange, that way. But then, we're all just a little bit strange inside, aren't we? And insane. Don't forget the insane, m'dears.
Probably one of Dagda's most prominent features are those rather - ahem - pink eyes. He does have a certain distaste for them. Insists they're purple, the unsociable moran. Yes, yes. Of course they're purple, Dagda. That's why they bare a resemblance to that pink flower outside. Back on topic, Dagda really doesn't like those who bug him about his eyes. Mention it, and you're likely to get a swift cuff around the ear and make a life-enemy all in one.
The cuffing? Oh yes, didn't I tell you? One of Dagda's many, annoying little.. quirks. See, he's built up this giant, invisible wall around himself and rejects all advances. But ocassionally, you always come across a rather.. insistent canine, yes? So, to deal with it, Dagda's come up with this rather nifty trick. Hit 'em round the back of the ears, and they won't bother you anymore! Ears are rather sensitive, after all. Releases pent up aggression and keeps them away from you all in one! Rather splendid, don't you think?
Dear, dear. We have a funny one on our hands today, Dagda. This one doesn't like you at all. So what else can I say..? Wait! There is something that Dagda likes. No, no. Although admittedly he does like to cuff, but he also does enjoy a good, energetic walk through the forest. As to why this is, neither of us can say. If you ask him you'll get a glare and he'll stalk away. Funny about that, there was this one time.. Ah, but we're not here to reminisce. But anyway. If you want to put the old coot in a good mood - perhaps to break him down gently or something like that - do it in a forest. Perhaps with water running in the background and after a bit of rain. Strange wolf he is, but you never know.
Sorry? You want to know what he fears? My, my. We are getting quite personal, aren't we? Dagda, shuffle away now, I don't want you to hear this! He's a bit sensitive on such a subject, you see, so best to keep off it. Ya see, this big old wolf is rather afraid of.. sleeping. Got a bad case of insomnia, the damn idiot. Says his dreams make him want to be awake all the time. Terrible liar, really. But I suppose his claims do have foundation. Dagda's had a bit of a run in with fire, when he was younger. Most of his nightly dreaming features it. I suppose, if you get down to the bare facts, its fire he's really afraid of. Loathes any wolf who can control it, though he really just loathes wolves in general. So he fears sleeping and fire. Still here and listening? While we're on topic of fire, he also hates his Shifting powers. Barely uses it, these days. Apparently, his shifting led to his parents deaths when he was younger.. Shh, don't tell!
Dagda also isn't a particularly soft on the inside, despite the hard outer layer. If ya get past the walls, there's just wave upon wave upon wave upon wave upon wave upon wave - ahem - of bitterness. He'll get on with ya, for the sake of getting on, but he's not going to be a big softie. He's rough, edgy and willing to fight. He hates to feel useless or disrespected, and cuffs you one round the ear if he feels that you're doing so. Bit of a hypocite, really, since he generally looks down on everyone and calls 'em 'kid' and cuffs them unless they're older than himself. Of course, there's a limit to who he can cuff, but he's managed to restrain himself from making a bad impression on anyone important so far.. Then again, that could change.
See, the thing about Dagda is, he's unpredictable. Oh yes, he can think straight, alright. Probably a little wonky, but he can pass for normal. The thing is, with nothing useful to do in life, he's become rather - for lack of a better word - bored with it all. So, to keep himself on his toes, he talks to himself or just generally keeps up a trail of rambling thoughts up in his head. ..Well, what did you expect? Him to go actually search for company? Woah, you need to read back a few paragraphs! The best one for Dagda to hold a conversation with is himself, dearie. It's for the greater good of everyone, in a twisted way. He also keeps himself occupied by learning about everything he can; despite his complaints, he loves knowledge. The only way to gain his respect or attention is knowledge.
Yes, yes, you can move back now, Dag. If you haven't noticed by the monumental amount of swearing in the background right now, Dagda has a rather rough tongue. Didn't spend enough time around his parents when he was younger and therefore never gained a liking to the language we all speak. -Shrug- Well.. In part, that really isn't his fault. Kind of hard for him to learn how to speak when your family is burning up around you. ..Whoopsee, that was a little too much information. Better stay off the family subject for now, yes?
One more thing, before Dagda's glaring burns a hole in my head. You see that odd rune next to his eye, kind of blue-ish tinge and meaning 'Three'? He inflicted that one upon himself. Asked a wolf who could control ice to do it. Even reduced to begging for such a wound, so I heard. And Dagda simply does not beg. For anything. If you ask me, I think it's because of his family dying. They were a foursome, and all three save him burned. Terrible accident, but I think he blames himself. Won't say anything on the matter, so that's just my guess. We'll never know, I presume.
"Gah. Shut up 'bout me, ya old mutt. Don' 'ave a clue why I keep 'er around. She just bloody annoys me.."
won't write you an anthem ,
Key, Dagda, WW - Whatever yall want c:
Robot, fool! ..Nah. Female.
Through a link on an advert off the site 'The Lovely Bones'. I was attracted by the name 'Thirteen'.. Figures. >-<
Nyeh. None. Shameful Dagda is all alonee. D:<
this broken heart was stronger then ,
'Fuck 'er. Fuck life. No, wait- Fuck livin' in general.' Silently, I nodded my head in quiet satisfaction. Yeah, much better.
Females these days were so bloody touchy about their territory - worse than males, even. So what if I happened to be sleepin' in her bloody cave? Wasn't like she stuck up a freakin' sign post sayin' 'This 'ere's my cave so leave i' alone'. If she'd didn't do that, how was I supposed to bloody well know that she'd claimed it? Sure, there was a scent, but it wasn't fresh, yeah? ..Well, not too fresh. And the blood on the walls ain't a sign of ownership; anyone coulda done that. So you're left with the plain 'ole fact that there's nothin' claiming that fuckin' cave as yours - not that I wanted the cave. It was a shitty cave. A ghastly cave. A downright fuckin' disgrace of a cave. It mattered not one bloody bit that I'd just been run off a cave by some female with powers of fire. Not one fuckin' bit.
..Yeah. And I could keep tellin' myself that. Nearing the edge of the land, I stopped and looked downward. Staring down at the water in the pond, bitter eyes glared back. Bitter pink eyes, which mocked me under the ripples. Fuckin' mother. Why the 'ell did she have to be born with freakin' magneta eyes? Couldn't they have been something different? Normal, maybe? Like.. Like.. Gah. Aggravated at my own thoughts, I shook my head with a snarl, ruffling it in the light wind. Dust flew up in a cloud from my fur, dislodged from the crevises and angrily attacking my eyesight with vengeance. Like.. Gold! Yeah, why couldn't she have bloody gold eyes? Gold would have been far easier to live with. I mean, every wolf with normal breedin' had gold-ish eyes, right? So much easier to live with. I would have fuckin' killed the bitch, if she wasn't already dead.
Ugh. Stupid pink eyes. Spontaneously - man, that was a freakin' awesome word - I snapped a clawed limb out and dashed it across the vivid eyes. Hah, now wasn't that amusing? If someone did that to me, I'd be bloody blind. And no joke on the bloody! The idea was morbidly amusing. At least I'd never see the pink eyes again. Wouldn't see the green of the forest again, either - but hell, I could deal with that. Maybe, if they bled enough, my eyes would be dyed red. That would be nice. 'Dagda, the big scary wolf with demon red eyes'. A lot freakin' better than Dagda, the happy wolf with pink eyes!'. Kinda like that freak who led the Tidus pack. What was her name now? Ah, Motion. I could be a Motion clone! ..Nah, I'd have to be female. Well, that damn sucked.
My paw came to rest in the water for a moment longer than necessary, and a hesitant flicker of scales touched it, making me pull it back out in jerky alarm. Hell no. There was no way I was going to turn into a fuckin' fish for hell's sake. For a moment, I could see a greyish fish with blue markings flopping around on the land. Ruddy hell. There was no way I was shifting into a fish. Although, that could go in the pot of 'Unused Ideas' for later. It would be slightly amusing to see if I was still dusty and dirty in fish form. Though the idea of getting wet or gaining slimy scales immediately cancelled that idea. Ugh. Freakin' complications were makin' my head hurt.
'Fuck movin'. I'm just gonna sit here for a while. Too much energy wasted lookin' for caves without bloody females in them, waitin' to bite your freakin' tail off.' Much better idea.
