Name: Tobias Denoan
Age: 103, appears 25
Gender: Male
Requested Rank: Warrior
Pack: Eternal Darkness
Human Photo:
Wolf Photo:
Joining Keys: Tis the player of Amariela.
Summary:
Smoke and Shadows: When one lives longer than a century, he does not go back and regal his entire life story. Yet the one told of Tobias could span millennia in the land from which he was birthed. A quaint little town in Nevada saw the misfortune of his emergence, ripping his mother wide open and leaving her barren. They say his soul saw to it that none dare posses the power to overcome him from the same portal to hell. A horrid child he was, terrorizing his pack and playing the most gruesome pranks. To him it was funny leaving entrails in such a way that one had no way but to trod upon them. Friend of none he sought to be the best, constantly fighting in order to learn, to hone his skill. It was not ego that drove him, but something deeper…a need to kill, a desire to bask in the blood of others. Emotions played little in his world for from the start he was handicapped, or to him liberated by his sociopathy.
It did not take long for his alpha to banish him from the pack at the ripe old age of twenty when they happened upon him and another wereling. This wereling was not of his pack but was brutally murdered, his heart lay upon a stump while Tobias removed every last article from his cavity. Sickened and afeared they chased him from the state and ever since then he roamed, satisfying whatever need arose. However, despite what twisted web he was ensnared within he was still a wolf at base. So the need to be with others slowly pushes at him to rejoin a pack.
The Façade: He is quite the looker standing at 6’2 and weighing in at 192lbs. His frame is tall and muscular, his physique ripped and tight as it tapers to a taunt butt and toned legs. His face is charming as well as rugged, always sporting a light shadow of a beard to kiss his soft cleft chin. His eyes are an intoxicating mix of silver with the palest of blues, seeming to shift and alter with his moods. Full, kissable lips lie beneath a sharp nose just waiting to be assaulted.
The Demon Within: This black beast borders 9’3” and carries the mass that goes along with it. A thick coarse ebony coat clings to his corded muscles as ivory kisses his just beneath his jowls. A silvery gray flecks the tops of his brows and the entire lower half of him, tapering down his legs to snowy paws. From the spine down is coated midnight until mid-side where it begins to sport the same silvery white however his tail is dipped in the same volcanic ash that bore him. Silver eyes peers from his massive skull, eyes that holds the same ice blue tones as when he is human; and a thick ruff adorns his neck, making him seem bigger than what he actually is.
The Jokers Laugh: A charmer this one is as he makes his way through life. A smile can cover even the most maniacal of hearts. He cares not for what others think of him, nor does he respect those that do not earn respect. Oh, he may follow the rules, barely, but that means little if he does not view you as belonging above him. In other words, he would just as soon kill a pack mate he does not respect as he would another loner. His temper is explosive as is his thirst for blood. Mind games give him morbid delight as does the actual sexual deed of release. A strong leader is needed in order to keep him in line, or he would wreak havoc until there is nothing left or he is cast back to the fires of hell that birthed him.
Age: 103, appears 25
Gender: Male
Requested Rank: Warrior
Pack: Eternal Darkness
Human Photo:
Wolf Photo:
Joining Keys: Tis the player of Amariela.
Summary:
Smoke and Shadows: When one lives longer than a century, he does not go back and regal his entire life story. Yet the one told of Tobias could span millennia in the land from which he was birthed. A quaint little town in Nevada saw the misfortune of his emergence, ripping his mother wide open and leaving her barren. They say his soul saw to it that none dare posses the power to overcome him from the same portal to hell. A horrid child he was, terrorizing his pack and playing the most gruesome pranks. To him it was funny leaving entrails in such a way that one had no way but to trod upon them. Friend of none he sought to be the best, constantly fighting in order to learn, to hone his skill. It was not ego that drove him, but something deeper…a need to kill, a desire to bask in the blood of others. Emotions played little in his world for from the start he was handicapped, or to him liberated by his sociopathy.
It did not take long for his alpha to banish him from the pack at the ripe old age of twenty when they happened upon him and another wereling. This wereling was not of his pack but was brutally murdered, his heart lay upon a stump while Tobias removed every last article from his cavity. Sickened and afeared they chased him from the state and ever since then he roamed, satisfying whatever need arose. However, despite what twisted web he was ensnared within he was still a wolf at base. So the need to be with others slowly pushes at him to rejoin a pack.
The Façade: He is quite the looker standing at 6’2 and weighing in at 192lbs. His frame is tall and muscular, his physique ripped and tight as it tapers to a taunt butt and toned legs. His face is charming as well as rugged, always sporting a light shadow of a beard to kiss his soft cleft chin. His eyes are an intoxicating mix of silver with the palest of blues, seeming to shift and alter with his moods. Full, kissable lips lie beneath a sharp nose just waiting to be assaulted.
The Demon Within: This black beast borders 9’3” and carries the mass that goes along with it. A thick coarse ebony coat clings to his corded muscles as ivory kisses his just beneath his jowls. A silvery gray flecks the tops of his brows and the entire lower half of him, tapering down his legs to snowy paws. From the spine down is coated midnight until mid-side where it begins to sport the same silvery white however his tail is dipped in the same volcanic ash that bore him. Silver eyes peers from his massive skull, eyes that holds the same ice blue tones as when he is human; and a thick ruff adorns his neck, making him seem bigger than what he actually is.
The Jokers Laugh: A charmer this one is as he makes his way through life. A smile can cover even the most maniacal of hearts. He cares not for what others think of him, nor does he respect those that do not earn respect. Oh, he may follow the rules, barely, but that means little if he does not view you as belonging above him. In other words, he would just as soon kill a pack mate he does not respect as he would another loner. His temper is explosive as is his thirst for blood. Mind games give him morbid delight as does the actual sexual deed of release. A strong leader is needed in order to keep him in line, or he would wreak havoc until there is nothing left or he is cast back to the fires of hell that birthed him.
Tue Mar 14, 2017 2:09 am by 
