Post by Tarkah on Jul 9, 2011 1:32:11 GMT -5
Name: Tarkah
Alias: N/A
Gender: Male.
Age: 4 years, 8 months
Birthdate: October 13th, 2127
Species: Dog.
Breed: Shikoku (75%) x Ken Kai (25%)
Purebred: No.
Pack: Gilded Hearts (Hopefully)
Height: 26 inches (2 feet, 2 inches)
Weight: 47 pounds
Build: Tarkah has an intermediate build, medium-length, large paws, a pointed muzzle with upright, triangular ears and a long-furred, straight tail. His fur, all around, is rather shaggy, sometimes spiked on his bad hair days. Under his fur he is quite lanky and agile, but he has two coats of fluff that make him look chubb-ish. Origin of agility and hunting, unsure of the mixed blood he has.
Coat: Medium to long-ish white undercoat with a light, fading brown atop it. Two white brow dots (not sure of real name) above eyes, with white tail tip and underbelly as well.
Head: Intermediate muzzle size, upright ears similar to a wolf's.
Eyes: Large, deep brown, rounded eyes that often feign innocence.
Scars: Not very noticeable, but if Tarkah gets wet or his fur ripped out, underneath on his left ribs are the old reminders of getting caught in barbed wire as a pup.
Accessories: N/A
Pictures: Tarkah
Picture the courtesy of The Nihon Ken Forum, found at:
www.nihonken.org/forum/index.php?p=/
Speed: Average.
Stamina: Above average.
Strength: Average.
Fighting: Average.
Strengths:
- Energetic
- Stealthy
- Clever
- Cautious (Also weakness)
Weaknesses:
- Hot, heavy coat
- Poor sense of smell
- Clumsy
- Cautious (Also strength)
Personality: Tarkah is a somewhat shy, yet quick-witted canine mix. Although he has clever comebacks for many insults and arguments, he doesn't want to irritate authority and keeps his mouth shut. He respects authority because obviously they were given their rank for a reason, and he doesn't question it unless it's truly corrupt. He likes to help out, but for some reason his entire life has been filled with malicious scavengers looking to make him their next meal. This has caused him to see the world as a vicious, hatred-filled place where he doesn't belong, yet he was stuck there anyway.
His brother was once his very best friend. After Khalkha took off, Tarkah grew lonesome and retreated into himself, not trusting anyone with his secrets. With his personal barrier in tact, Tarkah puts on a friendly mask, hiding his fear of never seeing his brother again. This was the cause of his claustrophobia. Khalkha had left him tucked away in the corner of a closet, of which the rest of the ruined house was in shambles. His only friend in the world left him in a dark, petite room with no way of saying farewell.
Fears: Tarkah was born and raised with a fear of humans and a bit paranoid with claustrophobia.
Family: Father: Marrow - Deceased - 50% Shikoku, 50% Ken Kai (Exact breeding heritage unknown)
Mother: Kalaa - Deceased - Purebred Shikoku (Bred by one human who was trying to keep pure blood alive, but ultimately failed)
Sister(s): x
Brother(s): Khalkha (Status Unknown)
History: Tarkah, being of mixed Shikoku blood, along with his brother Khalkha, was raised on the foundation of an abandoned farmhouse. His parents would hunt in the barren field where plants once grew while he and his brother would wrestle on the weather-worn kitchen tiles. They didn't have any idea what happened to the humans that lived there, for there were no signs of blood nor bodies, but they made it their home anyway, finding the only part of the house still intact- the master bedroom- a comfortable shield against most weather. Although a gaping hole facing East leaves the ceiling tilted at an odd angle, it also makes for a nice, quick entrance and exit for the dogs.
Where they lived was grand for the pups. They had a large, weed-infested field to play in all day, a small wooded area for hunting, and no humans in sight. Ever. The only setback was two cords of barbed wire that ran along the entire property, making coming and going anywhere somewhat of a hassle. At six months old, while playing an intense game of hide-and-seek with Khalkha, Tarkah found himself sprinting after his brother as he fled from his hiding spot and tried to leap over the barbed wire, only to find his stubby, underdeveloped legs failing the height. The incident has left Tarkah with multiple barely-visible scars found on the left side of his ribcage.
At age two his mother had been growing distant, often sneaking off to who-knows-where. Not long after, on a solo hunting trip, Kalaa simply didn't return. Khalkha and Tarkah were too young to understand that she had met another male and taken off with him, all they comprehended was that she was gone and their father wanted to go find her. Their father, heartbroken and desperate, began taking trips in an attempt to find Kalaa. This intrigued Khalkha, but Tarkah thought it was boring when Marrow brought them along. Tarkah wanted to stay home and race his brother to the end of the overgrown field, or see who could stalk the quietest, or even see who climbed higher. But Khalkha liked to go on adventures, finding the new scenes luxuriously refreshing.
When Tarkah was three Marrow decided that they would take their search for Kalaa even further. Marrow wasn't completely sane at this point anymore. Tarkah now realizes that his loss had driven his father mad. Packing up their things (so to speak), the father and two sons moved from the old farmhouse to a small city in ruins, one with a few live humans. Tarkah had never seen a human before, but they were interesting... That is, when they weren't trying to catch him for supper.
Not even a week after finding an alley to call home in the "city," a human found them. After brutally beating his father to death with a club, the human chased after Tarkah and his brother. Not being pups anymore, they easily outran the human, only getting a few bruises from the human throwing rocks as they escaped. This was the cause of Tarkah's intense fear of humans; watching his father beaten to death with a stick.
After the incident, Khalkha found them a place where only a rotted-out bathroom and closet remained. It was the best they could find, so they endured it. Khalkha often went out on searches for their mother, but to no avail. One night, Khalkha feigned distress, claiming that he had a lead on where their mother might be found. Putting Tarkah, who was gullible and easily-swayed at the time, in the closet and pushing the heaviest thing he could find- a couch- against the door, Khalkha ran off with a female, his new mate, leaving his brother to starve. Tarkah, thinking it was for his own protection, stayed in the closet for four days until hunger drove him out. Asking other animals around the block, they told him of how his brother eloped with some purebred.
Tarkah stumbled after his brother for four full years until he came across a pack, the Gilded Hearts, and thought it might offer a better existence than chasing after a sibling who was long gone. He had never heard of a pack before, and it was an idea that stuck with him. He wanted to be a part of it.
Played by: Puppet
Role Play Sample: Uhm... I just typed all that above (my hands hurt now), so I'm going to go with something I've already typed out...
Lunes sat behind the bars in the cold, stone cage at what humans called a "shelter." It didn't seem very sheltered. The bars that blocked his exit were rusted away, leaving them dangerous to touch. The solid concrete floor smelled of feces and urine left by animals he didn't know what to call. Above was a caved-in ceiling, leaving him to swelter in the heat of the day and freeze in the rains of the night. It always rained at night. He knew of no other life, though. Blurred memories stirred inside him of a happy, care-free existence, but he could barely recall, which was about the same as them never happening.
A crow, a black scavenger, was perched above. It's beady eyes watched Lunes as he was left to rot in the "shelter." It said nothing, never taking it's eyes off of him. Lunes' pelt crawled at the thought that he might very well be dead soon. But he saw no other option. There was no food. The water that fell every night was dirty and contaminated. Surely he couldn't squeeze through the rusted bars. His shoulders would never fit, and the cuts that the metal gave him would most likely give him some sort of disease.
Slumping to the floor, Lunes watched as the slight wind picked up loose dirt from the cement, sending the minuscule pebbles skidding across the floor to come to an abrupt stop upon hitting the wall. Flicking his ears, Lunes listened for any sound of life. He was the last one left in the "shelter," the others having died and rotted or somehow escaped. A wistfulness, a longing not to die, to escape and find somewhere happier, found it's way into Lunes' mind. "I don't want to die!" it screamed. "I want to be happy, I want to have food... I want a friend..." It was starting to die away, as it usually did. But the last thing it had said caught Lunes' attention. "A friend?" He whispered to himself, knowing the only thing that would hear him was the crow.
Night fell, and as clouds began to release the water they had stored during the inferno of the day, Lunes sat in the corner, preparing. The little voice in his head had said something different. Usually it just begged for food, to be free. But a friend? It was hard enough just to find something that wasn't going to eat you. Determination clear in his eyes, Lunes waited as droplets poured down from the sky, soaking his pelt and making him shiver. It didn't bother him as much as it usually did, for this time... For the first time... he had a plan. All he had to do was survive one more dreadful night...
As the rain started to die down and the sun peeked over the horizon, Lunes shook his pelt of the water that had accumulated in his fur over the course of the night. The silver droplets showered the floor and lower walls, but Lunes didn't mind. He was getting out. Today. Or die trying, at least.
Stepping to the rusted bars that Lunes had spent the night examining, he raised his large left paw and gripped it as best he could. Then, his right shoulder against the wall, he tensed and pushed at the bar with all his strength. It creaked and bent slightly, but not enough. Pushing harder, Lunes could feel it starting to give way. But his paw slipped. Falling, his chest hitting the floor with a thud, Lunes lay there a while, resting. His paw was stinging, but he didn't dare look at it. It would only make him fear to try again. The slight tang of blood filled the small room, and Lunes knew his paw had been cut. But still, he refused to look.
Getting up and circling the room, where he barely had enough space to pace, Lunes prepared himself to try again. He hadn't eaten anything nor done any sort of work in so long, his muscles had become weak and useless. Still, he was determined. Spots of red dotted the floor where his left paw had stepped, but he ignored it and once again readied himself to try to break or bend the bar far enough for him to fit through.
Pushing on the bar again, it didn't bend nearly as far as it had the first time, but this time Lunes didn't stop. Raising his lip in a silent snarl, ears pinned back to his skull, Lunes glared at the bar, hearing it creak a bit more, little by little.
At last the bar reached the point where it was almost completely out of the way. Lunes' paw wasn't stinging, but burning now, but he stopped feeling it, shoving the pain to the back of his mind. Stepping through the bar parallel to the one he had bent and the bent bar itself, Lunes looked out to see the sun gleaming over the horizon, holding a new future for himself.
Alias: N/A
Gender: Male.
Age: 4 years, 8 months
Birthdate: October 13th, 2127
Species: Dog.
Breed: Shikoku (75%) x Ken Kai (25%)
Purebred: No.
Pack: Gilded Hearts (Hopefully)
Height: 26 inches (2 feet, 2 inches)
Weight: 47 pounds
Build: Tarkah has an intermediate build, medium-length, large paws, a pointed muzzle with upright, triangular ears and a long-furred, straight tail. His fur, all around, is rather shaggy, sometimes spiked on his bad hair days. Under his fur he is quite lanky and agile, but he has two coats of fluff that make him look chubb-ish. Origin of agility and hunting, unsure of the mixed blood he has.
Coat: Medium to long-ish white undercoat with a light, fading brown atop it. Two white brow dots (not sure of real name) above eyes, with white tail tip and underbelly as well.
Head: Intermediate muzzle size, upright ears similar to a wolf's.
Eyes: Large, deep brown, rounded eyes that often feign innocence.
Scars: Not very noticeable, but if Tarkah gets wet or his fur ripped out, underneath on his left ribs are the old reminders of getting caught in barbed wire as a pup.
Accessories: N/A
Pictures: Tarkah
Picture the courtesy of The Nihon Ken Forum, found at:
www.nihonken.org/forum/index.php?p=/
Speed: Average.
Stamina: Above average.
Strength: Average.
Fighting: Average.
Strengths:
- Energetic
- Stealthy
- Clever
- Cautious (Also weakness)
Weaknesses:
- Hot, heavy coat
- Poor sense of smell
- Clumsy
- Cautious (Also strength)
Personality: Tarkah is a somewhat shy, yet quick-witted canine mix. Although he has clever comebacks for many insults and arguments, he doesn't want to irritate authority and keeps his mouth shut. He respects authority because obviously they were given their rank for a reason, and he doesn't question it unless it's truly corrupt. He likes to help out, but for some reason his entire life has been filled with malicious scavengers looking to make him their next meal. This has caused him to see the world as a vicious, hatred-filled place where he doesn't belong, yet he was stuck there anyway.
His brother was once his very best friend. After Khalkha took off, Tarkah grew lonesome and retreated into himself, not trusting anyone with his secrets. With his personal barrier in tact, Tarkah puts on a friendly mask, hiding his fear of never seeing his brother again. This was the cause of his claustrophobia. Khalkha had left him tucked away in the corner of a closet, of which the rest of the ruined house was in shambles. His only friend in the world left him in a dark, petite room with no way of saying farewell.
Fears: Tarkah was born and raised with a fear of humans and a bit paranoid with claustrophobia.
Family: Father: Marrow - Deceased - 50% Shikoku, 50% Ken Kai (Exact breeding heritage unknown)
Mother: Kalaa - Deceased - Purebred Shikoku (Bred by one human who was trying to keep pure blood alive, but ultimately failed)
Sister(s): x
Brother(s): Khalkha (Status Unknown)
History: Tarkah, being of mixed Shikoku blood, along with his brother Khalkha, was raised on the foundation of an abandoned farmhouse. His parents would hunt in the barren field where plants once grew while he and his brother would wrestle on the weather-worn kitchen tiles. They didn't have any idea what happened to the humans that lived there, for there were no signs of blood nor bodies, but they made it their home anyway, finding the only part of the house still intact- the master bedroom- a comfortable shield against most weather. Although a gaping hole facing East leaves the ceiling tilted at an odd angle, it also makes for a nice, quick entrance and exit for the dogs.
Where they lived was grand for the pups. They had a large, weed-infested field to play in all day, a small wooded area for hunting, and no humans in sight. Ever. The only setback was two cords of barbed wire that ran along the entire property, making coming and going anywhere somewhat of a hassle. At six months old, while playing an intense game of hide-and-seek with Khalkha, Tarkah found himself sprinting after his brother as he fled from his hiding spot and tried to leap over the barbed wire, only to find his stubby, underdeveloped legs failing the height. The incident has left Tarkah with multiple barely-visible scars found on the left side of his ribcage.
At age two his mother had been growing distant, often sneaking off to who-knows-where. Not long after, on a solo hunting trip, Kalaa simply didn't return. Khalkha and Tarkah were too young to understand that she had met another male and taken off with him, all they comprehended was that she was gone and their father wanted to go find her. Their father, heartbroken and desperate, began taking trips in an attempt to find Kalaa. This intrigued Khalkha, but Tarkah thought it was boring when Marrow brought them along. Tarkah wanted to stay home and race his brother to the end of the overgrown field, or see who could stalk the quietest, or even see who climbed higher. But Khalkha liked to go on adventures, finding the new scenes luxuriously refreshing.
When Tarkah was three Marrow decided that they would take their search for Kalaa even further. Marrow wasn't completely sane at this point anymore. Tarkah now realizes that his loss had driven his father mad. Packing up their things (so to speak), the father and two sons moved from the old farmhouse to a small city in ruins, one with a few live humans. Tarkah had never seen a human before, but they were interesting... That is, when they weren't trying to catch him for supper.
Not even a week after finding an alley to call home in the "city," a human found them. After brutally beating his father to death with a club, the human chased after Tarkah and his brother. Not being pups anymore, they easily outran the human, only getting a few bruises from the human throwing rocks as they escaped. This was the cause of Tarkah's intense fear of humans; watching his father beaten to death with a stick.
After the incident, Khalkha found them a place where only a rotted-out bathroom and closet remained. It was the best they could find, so they endured it. Khalkha often went out on searches for their mother, but to no avail. One night, Khalkha feigned distress, claiming that he had a lead on where their mother might be found. Putting Tarkah, who was gullible and easily-swayed at the time, in the closet and pushing the heaviest thing he could find- a couch- against the door, Khalkha ran off with a female, his new mate, leaving his brother to starve. Tarkah, thinking it was for his own protection, stayed in the closet for four days until hunger drove him out. Asking other animals around the block, they told him of how his brother eloped with some purebred.
Tarkah stumbled after his brother for four full years until he came across a pack, the Gilded Hearts, and thought it might offer a better existence than chasing after a sibling who was long gone. He had never heard of a pack before, and it was an idea that stuck with him. He wanted to be a part of it.
Played by: Puppet
Role Play Sample: Uhm... I just typed all that above (my hands hurt now), so I'm going to go with something I've already typed out...
Lunes sat behind the bars in the cold, stone cage at what humans called a "shelter." It didn't seem very sheltered. The bars that blocked his exit were rusted away, leaving them dangerous to touch. The solid concrete floor smelled of feces and urine left by animals he didn't know what to call. Above was a caved-in ceiling, leaving him to swelter in the heat of the day and freeze in the rains of the night. It always rained at night. He knew of no other life, though. Blurred memories stirred inside him of a happy, care-free existence, but he could barely recall, which was about the same as them never happening.
A crow, a black scavenger, was perched above. It's beady eyes watched Lunes as he was left to rot in the "shelter." It said nothing, never taking it's eyes off of him. Lunes' pelt crawled at the thought that he might very well be dead soon. But he saw no other option. There was no food. The water that fell every night was dirty and contaminated. Surely he couldn't squeeze through the rusted bars. His shoulders would never fit, and the cuts that the metal gave him would most likely give him some sort of disease.
Slumping to the floor, Lunes watched as the slight wind picked up loose dirt from the cement, sending the minuscule pebbles skidding across the floor to come to an abrupt stop upon hitting the wall. Flicking his ears, Lunes listened for any sound of life. He was the last one left in the "shelter," the others having died and rotted or somehow escaped. A wistfulness, a longing not to die, to escape and find somewhere happier, found it's way into Lunes' mind. "I don't want to die!" it screamed. "I want to be happy, I want to have food... I want a friend..." It was starting to die away, as it usually did. But the last thing it had said caught Lunes' attention. "A friend?" He whispered to himself, knowing the only thing that would hear him was the crow.
Night fell, and as clouds began to release the water they had stored during the inferno of the day, Lunes sat in the corner, preparing. The little voice in his head had said something different. Usually it just begged for food, to be free. But a friend? It was hard enough just to find something that wasn't going to eat you. Determination clear in his eyes, Lunes waited as droplets poured down from the sky, soaking his pelt and making him shiver. It didn't bother him as much as it usually did, for this time... For the first time... he had a plan. All he had to do was survive one more dreadful night...
As the rain started to die down and the sun peeked over the horizon, Lunes shook his pelt of the water that had accumulated in his fur over the course of the night. The silver droplets showered the floor and lower walls, but Lunes didn't mind. He was getting out. Today. Or die trying, at least.
Stepping to the rusted bars that Lunes had spent the night examining, he raised his large left paw and gripped it as best he could. Then, his right shoulder against the wall, he tensed and pushed at the bar with all his strength. It creaked and bent slightly, but not enough. Pushing harder, Lunes could feel it starting to give way. But his paw slipped. Falling, his chest hitting the floor with a thud, Lunes lay there a while, resting. His paw was stinging, but he didn't dare look at it. It would only make him fear to try again. The slight tang of blood filled the small room, and Lunes knew his paw had been cut. But still, he refused to look.
Getting up and circling the room, where he barely had enough space to pace, Lunes prepared himself to try again. He hadn't eaten anything nor done any sort of work in so long, his muscles had become weak and useless. Still, he was determined. Spots of red dotted the floor where his left paw had stepped, but he ignored it and once again readied himself to try to break or bend the bar far enough for him to fit through.
Pushing on the bar again, it didn't bend nearly as far as it had the first time, but this time Lunes didn't stop. Raising his lip in a silent snarl, ears pinned back to his skull, Lunes glared at the bar, hearing it creak a bit more, little by little.
At last the bar reached the point where it was almost completely out of the way. Lunes' paw wasn't stinging, but burning now, but he stopped feeling it, shoving the pain to the back of his mind. Stepping through the bar parallel to the one he had bent and the bent bar itself, Lunes looked out to see the sun gleaming over the horizon, holding a new future for himself.
