Character Bio
NAME | Fritjof
AGE | 5
GENDER | male
EYE COLOR | a fiery amber, with green flecks
APPEARANCE
Fritjof stands about 26 inches high and is built along rangy lines, being long and lean. He weighs 52 pounds, and is mottled in coloration with a tawny base, with longer black guard hairs covering his back and sides, diluting to a cream and brown mixed underside. His fur is a bit darker over his ears and tail.
PERSONALITY *
Fritjof is a cunning bastard. While he forms alliances and understands the use of having a pack, and following strong leaders, he keeps loyalties to a minimum. He can be a fierce fighter, though he prefers to let others do the fighting, using words to sow distrust or gain allies to his causes. This being said, the few that he is loyal to he will defend to the death, or commit atrocities for. He has a realistic view of the world, and likes things not sugar coated. Those who come to power are the ones who seek power, and as such in his mind, there is no such thing as a good and innocent leader, only some leaders who are better than others. He realizes he is not a good leader, and has always deferred, preferring to be the right hand or the under dog, who helps uphold a leader's role, and acts as an enforcer or confidant.
HISTORY *
A long time ago, in something much less amusing than a fairy tale, he was born to a medium sized pack. Fritjof got his first promotion to "Assassin" as a three year old, and quickly became an efficient killer of those who annoyed the leader. Unfortunately he became obsessed with the alpha's daughter (and heir). He would do anything for her. She lamented how her father misused his power and how she would be the leader to turn the pack around. Fritjof really did not care, but because she did, they formed a plan together that started with him killing the leader. He did his part, but unfortunately instead of supporting him, she turned on him, saying it had been him acting alone all along, and cast him out. It was his first betrayal and probably an integral building block of his character.
The next pack he came to he was smart enough to withold most of his past from. He proved competent and diplomatic (when necessary), and was quickly promoted to Beta within the small pack. Later, two wolves came to him, suggesting an uprising. He weighed the options carefully. He agreed the Leader was not the most competent, being absent for long periods, but could not see either of the other wolves as a better leader. They suggested he become the leader, and rebel with them. He laughed and disciplined them, reporting their transgressions. Unfortunately, the strength and sway Fritjof had to make these two wolves come to him with their plan made the Alpha leery, and their relationship became strained. It was a mutual decision that he should find a new pack, though he recognized she would probably die with no one there to defend her if the pack chose to turn again.
After that, he spent a little over half a year on his own, disappointed in trying to find a pack, and weary of the troubles that come with it. But here he is again, as much due to loneliness as survival.
IMPRINTABILITY - Yes, he is able to imprint.
OOC - Peppermint
OOC Information
(for new members)
SAMPLE -
(sorry, it is recycled, from my character William on Shaman)
William walked in the field, watching the glowing orbs dance around him. Just the sight put him in a slightly more optimistic mood. He brushed his hand against the tall grass, enjoying its sight for the memories it gave him of the fields on Earth. But the day was too nice to linger on unpleasantness. As he had not been looking where he had been going he bumped into a little orb. Odd.
"kee kee kee kee!" cried a Kestrel, diving out of a nearby tree, quickly claiming a prey on the ground near him. He looked at it, a little sickened by the obvious bone crunching... and it looked straight back at him, head tilted. "Oh no, " he said, backing away slowly. You ain't much, are you? spoke the bird. "I didn't..." well, do anything really. But that was not the point. He was not quite sure how people gained familiars... if that was indeed what this was.
You din't have to said the bird in a sharp twangy accent. It was time. The kestrel stated this around mouthfuls of rodent breakfast, a non apologetic air of self importance surrounding her despite being smaller than a housecat. William looked the dark brown bird over the brown bird with black spots, noticing the similarity beetween his wings and the bird's and supposed there must be some connection. If it were not for the speaking this bird could have been any of the ones that hung about the fields on the old farm.
"Well, what took you so long." He had been rather lonely. A companion before now might have been nice. The bird glared at him You weren't ready. William had no choice but to suppose it true. He really had not accepted the idea that familiars, pieces of souls, were talking animals. Maybe it was a bit easier with all the floating balls hanging around, reminding everyone of all the magic. He did not really have an answer, though he did think about asking if it had to be this sharp tongued animal, but thought better of it, not wanting to hear the retort that followed, since he knew each fairy (usually) only had one familiar.
The kestrel, finished with her meal tidied herself up, wiping her beak and claws against the ground. She then flitted to his shoulder, looking at him without sympathy when he flinched under her talons. He'd have to invest in a leather shoulder pad. He sighed. Maybe the person who kept the birds at the castle would have an extra. Maybe Luke would know where to look.
It was weird, to have a familiar. It was as if in that moment he suddenly belonged to Shaman wholly. But what was so special about today? He thought about the glowing orb he had touched but shook his head. It could not really be that, which had induced fate to act, could it?
He headed towards home, feeling a bit out of place. He was halfway down the hill when he was dumbstruck. He hadn't a name for his familiar. Or was he supposed to give one? He guessed he should ask. "Um... " he started rather lamely, breaking the silence "what's your name?"
'Bout time you asked, you lazy lout the bird replied sardonically. You can call me Bertie.
William tried not to laugh, but could not help it. "A bird named Bertie? Really?" and she glared at him sharply, but chose not to reply verbally, digging her claws a little more firmly into his shoulder so he gasped slightly and stopped laughing. This promised to be a very interesting relationship.
HAVE YOU READ THE RULES? yes
WHAT IS OUR REQUIRED WORD MINIMUM? 200
HOW DID YOU FIND US? Shaman Sister Site list
CHATANGO * peppyone
BIRTHDAY (month, day) * April, 13
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