Post by Sol on Nov 10, 2015 1:38:06 GMT -5
Sol
let's kill tonight
Age: 56
Faction: The Creed (Bloodborne)
Gender: Male
Species: Arcanine (#059 // Fire)
Ability: Intimidate
Moveset: Flamethrower, Roar, Extreme Speed, Thunder Fang, Agility, Flare Blitz
Orientation: Pansexual
OOC Name: Remus
Faction: The Creed (Bloodborne)
Gender: Male
Species: Arcanine (#059 // Fire)
Ability: Intimidate
Moveset: Flamethrower, Roar, Extreme Speed, Thunder Fang, Agility, Flare Blitz
Orientation: Pansexual
OOC Name: Remus
Appearance
In the past and perhaps even now, Arcanine were known for the beauty of their pelts and the grace of their grounded "flight". Sol isn't much different, all orange with black stripes that lead into magnificent, if not a little ragged, beige-colored manes of long, thick fur. He's not exactly the biggest Pokemon out there, but he isn't small by any means either, standing at 6'06", three inches taller than the average of his species. Rows of sharp teeth line his jaw, his two canines long enough to peek out from his jaws, and his eyes are a shade of amber that seem to melt with the heat of his emotions.
For whatever reason, Sol makes a surprising amount of effort to keep himself well-groomed. Powerful muscles can be seen rippling under his pelt if you look closely enough, and a number of scars are scattered across his body. Most are hidden by his fur, but some are too big for that, leaving large, scarred gashes on his left hind leg and his right flank. On a side note, Sol's tail seems a tad shorter than most Arcanine's are.
For whatever reason, Sol makes a surprising amount of effort to keep himself well-groomed. Powerful muscles can be seen rippling under his pelt if you look closely enough, and a number of scars are scattered across his body. Most are hidden by his fur, but some are too big for that, leaving large, scarred gashes on his left hind leg and his right flank. On a side note, Sol's tail seems a tad shorter than most Arcanine's are.
Personality
Lazy and arrogant, that's the impression Sol makes upon first glance. Get a little closer, a little more precise, and one will find that Sol is perhaps just paternally indulgent. As if that really makes a difference. The Arcanine wears an air of casual superiority about him like a cloak, though those who have met him would say his arrogance was not unfounded, for for all he likes to lounge about, he still moves with the lethal grace of a predator surrounded by a world of prey. Despite the smooth ripple of power underlying his every action, Sol can be very rough in manner. He can be fairly rude on a normal day towards those who feel they should command his respect, but truthfully, the Arcanine isn't one to bow to anyone. He's a king; there are only equals, and even then those who he acknowledges as that is few and far between.
He's an absolute beast when he's fighting, dissolute on the best of days and downright cruel on the worst. What more can be said?
Bloodthirsty though he may be, Sol can be surprisingly fair and diplomatic. Or at least, more than his predecessors have proven to be, that's for sure. Having kept his mind for the most part, Sol doesn't just value physical strength, but he values mental strength as well. Madness, even among the surviving Creed, is to be put down if it gets out of hand, and that is something that Sol is very, very clear about. Though his prior values of freedom still surges strongly within him, letting his members do as they please, he enforces a code that must be strictly followed under pain of punishment, or even death. The Creed may have obtained abnormal strength as survivors of the madness, but if this world is to continue, then the Creed must keep their minds or else even the concept of strength, noble as it is, will be lost to madness. Because as time goes on, slowly, only the Creed will remain, and their numbers are few enough already. Losing their own to the stupidity of anarchy is not something Sol would like to entertain.
That isn't to say that the Arcanine is entirely tame and civil; hell no, he would be laughed off his throne for being such a pansy. Parts of him that were once only muted at best have amplified and twisted into something dark and ugly that he rarely lets rear its maw when he isn't taking things seriously, as he's wont to do. He's lazy and he likes to sleep when he can get away with it, sure, but it only takes the flip of a switch before he's up and ready to move, sharp and deadly and almost insanely bloodthirsty at a moment's notice. He isn't known for his explosive temper without a reason, and though it takes a little more to rile him up normally now that he's older, some things will have that furnace of anger blazing more quickly than you could even say "please".
As apathetic as he may seem about pretty much everything except maybe food and fighting, Sol seems to genuinely care about the Creed to some level, taking his position as its head seriously when he actually has to. While it's not like he's going to take the time out of his (probably not-so-busy) schedule to get to know each and every one of his faction mates, he tries not to be too unapproachable, welcoming even the newer members into the fold to ensure the group will not die out in the near future. Strange as it might sound, he can actually be warm around his faction mates and he's always fond of some of them in his own indulgent way... Though that might just be an excuse to fan his vindictive side when someone dares to attack one of them.
He's an absolute beast when he's fighting, dissolute on the best of days and downright cruel on the worst. What more can be said?
Bloodthirsty though he may be, Sol can be surprisingly fair and diplomatic. Or at least, more than his predecessors have proven to be, that's for sure. Having kept his mind for the most part, Sol doesn't just value physical strength, but he values mental strength as well. Madness, even among the surviving Creed, is to be put down if it gets out of hand, and that is something that Sol is very, very clear about. Though his prior values of freedom still surges strongly within him, letting his members do as they please, he enforces a code that must be strictly followed under pain of punishment, or even death. The Creed may have obtained abnormal strength as survivors of the madness, but if this world is to continue, then the Creed must keep their minds or else even the concept of strength, noble as it is, will be lost to madness. Because as time goes on, slowly, only the Creed will remain, and their numbers are few enough already. Losing their own to the stupidity of anarchy is not something Sol would like to entertain.
That isn't to say that the Arcanine is entirely tame and civil; hell no, he would be laughed off his throne for being such a pansy. Parts of him that were once only muted at best have amplified and twisted into something dark and ugly that he rarely lets rear its maw when he isn't taking things seriously, as he's wont to do. He's lazy and he likes to sleep when he can get away with it, sure, but it only takes the flip of a switch before he's up and ready to move, sharp and deadly and almost insanely bloodthirsty at a moment's notice. He isn't known for his explosive temper without a reason, and though it takes a little more to rile him up normally now that he's older, some things will have that furnace of anger blazing more quickly than you could even say "please".
As apathetic as he may seem about pretty much everything except maybe food and fighting, Sol seems to genuinely care about the Creed to some level, taking his position as its head seriously when he actually has to. While it's not like he's going to take the time out of his (probably not-so-busy) schedule to get to know each and every one of his faction mates, he tries not to be too unapproachable, welcoming even the newer members into the fold to ensure the group will not die out in the near future. Strange as it might sound, he can actually be warm around his faction mates and he's always fond of some of them in his own indulgent way... Though that might just be an excuse to fan his vindictive side when someone dares to attack one of them.
History
Once, Sol had had family too. He had been Solomon then, the proud eldest brother of a litter of three others, and as free-spirited and wild as the rest of his family. Due to their nature, the Arcanine lived scattered like the wind that ran through their manes, pups set loose with a stronger family member as soon as they could run. It was through this that most managed to avoid the heavy hand of humans, and Sol too had run and danced with the Arcanine.
It was not until he had lived six years of his life that the downfall of man came about, and then madness reigned supreme as pure anarchy swept through the land. Not even the Arcanine and their charges could run fast enough to escape the chaos that followed the end of the world, and Sol grew to know only a world ravaged by destruction and fierce, desperate savagery. Fight to live, fight to die, fight to survive. It was either turn around and fight, or flee to the ends of the earth, and Sol, knowing that he could never outrun a disease like the Star Madness after he watched his own siblings fall under its influence, decided to live his life to its fullest. If he was going to die, then he wanted to go out in a trail of flame and glory, wanted to be like that last, final flare before he burned out into ashes.
Sol fought hard. Even as a little Growlithe, he knew how to pick his battles, and he fought tooth and nail to come out on top. He fought for the sake fighting, challenged anyone he could, and refused to leave anyone who tangled with him alive and breathing so long as it was in his power. And when the disease finally came for him, he howled, so angry that his death would be at the hands of a worthless and disgusting disease. He almost tried to kill himself to keep from feeling that sort of humiliation, but he ultimately succumbed to the madness before he could pull through with a suicide.
By the time he gained some semblance of rational thought again, he was in a body that wasn't his own and his muzzle tasted of copper. Sometime during the time he'd lost his rationality, he had somehow come in contact with a Fire Stone, and now he was stronger than ever before, and his strength would only grow. But more importantly, he had survived, survived the one true fear of the current universe other than death itself, and high on feral triumph, he ran once more.
But his escape from the edge of hell had left Sol empty. It changed him in a way, and while he didn't think himself mad, he wasn't exactly normal anymore either. No longer did the simple act of running and following the wind's song make his blood hum. Only death and the edge made him feel more alive, and as he grew older, he sought stronger and stronger opponents, fought more and more, and came to love the feeling of battle. It wasn't long before the Creed sought him out. While Sol didn't care much for the group on a whole or their customs, he enjoyed the test of strength they offered, rising the ranks quickly until finally, in a clash of claws and wills, he uncrowned even the Bloodborne of the time and rose to take the title.
He's been their ever since, lounging on his throne of carnage and enjoying life to the fullest even when it's as rotten as it is. Ingis is his kingdom, and while he still threatens the rest of Mew's Garden with the madness, he's really only interested in going out on raids for the rush of adrenaline now. Killing a bunch of Pokemon with disease doesn't bother him. In fact, the Creed may as well be doing the world a favor by disposing of the weak faster; they'll all fall sooner or later to the disease anyway, so why should it matter? It's all just a matter of perspective.
It was not until he had lived six years of his life that the downfall of man came about, and then madness reigned supreme as pure anarchy swept through the land. Not even the Arcanine and their charges could run fast enough to escape the chaos that followed the end of the world, and Sol grew to know only a world ravaged by destruction and fierce, desperate savagery. Fight to live, fight to die, fight to survive. It was either turn around and fight, or flee to the ends of the earth, and Sol, knowing that he could never outrun a disease like the Star Madness after he watched his own siblings fall under its influence, decided to live his life to its fullest. If he was going to die, then he wanted to go out in a trail of flame and glory, wanted to be like that last, final flare before he burned out into ashes.
Sol fought hard. Even as a little Growlithe, he knew how to pick his battles, and he fought tooth and nail to come out on top. He fought for the sake fighting, challenged anyone he could, and refused to leave anyone who tangled with him alive and breathing so long as it was in his power. And when the disease finally came for him, he howled, so angry that his death would be at the hands of a worthless and disgusting disease. He almost tried to kill himself to keep from feeling that sort of humiliation, but he ultimately succumbed to the madness before he could pull through with a suicide.
By the time he gained some semblance of rational thought again, he was in a body that wasn't his own and his muzzle tasted of copper. Sometime during the time he'd lost his rationality, he had somehow come in contact with a Fire Stone, and now he was stronger than ever before, and his strength would only grow. But more importantly, he had survived, survived the one true fear of the current universe other than death itself, and high on feral triumph, he ran once more.
But his escape from the edge of hell had left Sol empty. It changed him in a way, and while he didn't think himself mad, he wasn't exactly normal anymore either. No longer did the simple act of running and following the wind's song make his blood hum. Only death and the edge made him feel more alive, and as he grew older, he sought stronger and stronger opponents, fought more and more, and came to love the feeling of battle. It wasn't long before the Creed sought him out. While Sol didn't care much for the group on a whole or their customs, he enjoyed the test of strength they offered, rising the ranks quickly until finally, in a clash of claws and wills, he uncrowned even the Bloodborne of the time and rose to take the title.
He's been their ever since, lounging on his throne of carnage and enjoying life to the fullest even when it's as rotten as it is. Ingis is his kingdom, and while he still threatens the rest of Mew's Garden with the madness, he's really only interested in going out on raids for the rush of adrenaline now. Killing a bunch of Pokemon with disease doesn't bother him. In fact, the Creed may as well be doing the world a favor by disposing of the weak faster; they'll all fall sooner or later to the disease anyway, so why should it matter? It's all just a matter of perspective.
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Apple x5
Lum Berry x3
Escape Orb x4
