↭ vector ;; beguile's storage

[brad!]

Hello, and welcome to my storage.

This is where I will keep the general information for my characters, post role-play forms whilst I edit them, and store pictures to use later on, especially if I haven't worked out who I'm going to use them for, yet.

My last one was getting a bit cluttered and messy, so hopefully I can keep this one in order.

Feel free to browse through my characters, and please message me if you would like to use one of my forms, or would be interested in doing a role-play with me.
I have a variety of characters (as you will see if you browse through the archive), so I am sure we will be able to work something out, if you are interested. I don't bite.

I would appreciate it if you don't post here, just so that I can keep this as clean and organised as possible. Thank-you.

Have a lovely time, and I hope to see you around on the role-play forums!
- Beguile

[brad!]

The archive will go by species, and then in alphabetical order.

DOGS
Alistair - ♂
Argo - ♂
Lindal - ♀
Nihlus - ♂
Pendleton - ♂
Silas - ♂
Wilhelmina - ♀

CATS
Mothstar - ♂
Sootnose - ♀
Swanstep - ♀
Troutwhisker - ♂
Wrenfeather - ♀

WOLVES
Baron - ♂
Caesar - ♂
Magnus - ♂
Mistress - ♀

Other species will be added as time goes on.

[brad!]

◤ _______________________________________ ◥

Argo simply doesn't have time for low standards.
Known for his brusque nature and uncompromising
ways, Argo's seen as a bit of a rough and harsh dog,
perfectly content in working on his own, without the
interruptions of anyone else. He's quite arrogant, and
has the belief that his past actions render him superior
to others, especially if he believes that they haven't
proven themselves worthy of his trust. However,
despite this, Argo isn't a complete misery guts, and
is quite capable of enjoying the basic company of
other dogs around him, and having a laugh at a joke.
As much as he won't admit it, Argo desires to have
a family one day, but currently doesn't have a love
interest in mind.

◣ _______________________________________ ◢

five and a half years
male
czechoslovakian wolfdog

[brad!]

◤ _______________________________________ ◥

If you're one for good comebacks and wit,
Mister Alistair here is the dog that you
should probably look towards. Alistair
has an incredibly charming nature, known
for his ability to be quite the flirt, and
talk his way out of trouble with relative ease.
He's very idealistic and thoughtful, finding
a lot of enjoyment in just sitting down
somewhere, and being allowed to ponder to
his heart's content. However, Alistair is
incredibly vain, in regards to himself, and
those around him. He prides himself in
being superior to those around him, but
tends to have an idea about his limits.

◣ _______________________________________ ◢

five years
male
border collie

[brad!]

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A first impression of Lindal is that she
is a thick-skinned, uncompromising
and rather moody dog, but as one
gets to know the fae better, they
will come to realise that she's really
not that bad. This first impression
gives Lindal the upper hand in some
respects, and it is used to determine
whether or not Lindal believes that
the dogs attempting to interact with
her can be trusted. Lindal can be
quite kind, though it can seem rather
out of place, thanks to her brusque
nature, and seemingly unruly mannerisms.

◣ _______________________________________ ◢

five and a half years
female
czechoslovakian wolfdog

[brad!]

x

ｈｕｒｒｙ ｈｏｍｅ， ａｎｄ
ｂｒｉｎｇ ｇｏｏｄ ｎｅｗｓ

name
Wilhelmina (Helm)
(pronounced wil-hull-MEE-nə)
age
Around three or so years
gender
Female
breed
Leonberger
allegiance
No allegiance
romantic interest
None
height
29.7 inches
weight
114 pounds

Be careful out there, lass, as big and as brave as you are. The world is large, illogical and unfair, and it'll do nothing but try to pull you back to square one. It will do nothing but haunt you, cheat you and make you look like a fool. That's what the world's designed to do. My dad used to say that a lot, to all of his kids. Loved us all, he did. All seven of us. My four brothers, Bane, Alec, Thaddeus and Edgar, and my two sisters, Jessamine and Lydia. I mean, Mum loved us too, but we didn't see her all that much; she was out with our Boss, and Dad got to stay home and watch over us. Not really sure why, but one of my friends, Bucky, said that it was because Dad was a legend among canines, known for going out and rescuing humans and keeping others safe from bad people in his younger years. Everyone reckoned he deserved a rest, and as far as they were concerned, he didn't mind so much.

The seven of us grew, learning, playing and more often than not, chewing the family lounge. Boss thought it was hilarious, and just let us do it. But we came of age, and Boss decided it was time to let us go. Hand selected by willing buyers, we left home, sent away to live out or own lives. I watched as my brothers and sisters all left, Alec, Thad, Lydia, Jess, Bane, then Edgar. One by one, we would all say our goodbyes, turn and be whisked away, fully aware that we would never see one another again. As sad as it was, I know it was for the best. But that's because Dad and Mum told me so. They said it was normal, and had happened countless times before. I just had to accept it.

I was sold to some police chief, said he wanted a strong dog that'd be loyal and obedient and me being the lucky last, I had to go. Life was odd with him, far more strict than what it had been time and time before. I got a nice wallop on the backside after I chewed his lounge, and I was locked in the laundry for it too. "You can't eat this, Helm, can't go to the bathroom there, don't harass the cat, don't go near the stove, Helm, it'll burn you." and so on. There were so many rules and as much as I hated them, I loved the chief. I was loyal and kind to him, despite the fact he wouldn't let me chew whatever I wanted. But I guess you learn to deal with that, over time.

But then, things changed. Chief became sick, and people came and went, giving me sad looks as they passed. I never left his side, only when I was forced to by his female. "Eat, Helm. Go to sleep, Helm. You need rest, he'll be fine." she would tell me, but I knew she was lying. I could smell the disease on him, and it was only getting stronger. I guess it was too late for Chief, and that meant we just had to wait for him to move on. I would often comfort his female, leaning into her and letting her hug me and cry. That was what I had to do. She was my family, too. I never loved her as much as Chief, but I couldn't just let her suffer. He wouldn't have wanted me to do that.

As nature deemed it, he died, and I can remember the look on his female's face as he did. "Don't worry, love. Wilhelmina will look after you, I know she will." He told her. "She's smart, she's strong and most of all, she's brave. She'll protect you in a heartbeat." and then he was gone. His female was shattered, and I was too. We mourned for quite some time, and I remember his funeral all too well. I remember peering into his casket, looking upon him. His face was drawn into the smile he always wore, his hands clasped together. He was wearing his favourite suit, too. But though his friends could not sense it, he reeked of death, through the copious amounts of perfume and flowers they had used. He smelled of disease and decay.

Though, what happened next changed my life forever.

A cold winter's night, I think it was. I was laying next to my now widowed mistress just enjoying the warmth and her company. There was a knock at our door, and she went to answer it. And when she did, she screamed. A masked man shoved past her, pointing a gun at her head. "Move, and I'll kill you!" he had snapped, and she begged for him to give mercy,

She'll protect you in a heartbeat.

I leaped over the lounge, jaws clamping onto the intruder's arm, which forced him to drop the gun. It gave my mistress enough time to flee, and she ran out into the street, screaming bloody murder and begging for someone to help. The intruder and I struggled, and I remember pinning him to the ground, and my jaws clamping around his throat, and my mistress screaming louder when she came back. I was covered in blood, and the intruder was dead, throat torn out by a vicious animal. Me.

She told me to run, to never return, because they would kill me. I did not want to leave her behind, but I obeyed, running, and running, and running, too afraid to look back.

I'm a stray, now. But as much as I wish to return home, I know that I'll never be able to.

[brad!]

ｍｙ ｏｈ ｍｙ， ｓｉｌａｓ ｄｅａｒ．
ｌｏｏｋ ａｔ ｔｈｅ ｍｅｓｓ ｙｏｕ＇ｖｅ ｍａｄｅ！

name
Silas
(pronounced SY-luss)
age
Five or so years
gender
Male
breed
Greyhound
allegiance
No allegiance
romantic interest
None
height
29.7 inches
weight
74 pounds
relations
None

For me, life has been one big mess after another. I guess it becomes some sort of a normality after a while, though, and you begin to hardly notice 'em. They don't matter after a while, and they become funny, and you laugh 'em off. We'll start with the fact I was an accident, born to a litter of pups that weren't meant to exist. Mum was a prized racer, and she wasn't meant to be nursin' pups this soon. Her Boss was furious, and as soon as Ma's kids were old enough to be on their own, we were all whisked away, put up for sale. When people know yer parents are prized, they want ya, and we all sold pre' quick.

I don't really remember much, truth be told. Some little human picked me up, looked me right in the eyes and told his parents that he wanted me. I was taken home, plopped on the floor, and covered in kisses and every now and again, nail polish. He liked to dress me up, that kid. I liked him.

But then he grew older, and with age, his interests changed. He became engrossed in his computer all the time, rarely coming off it unless it was for dinner, or he needed to do something. I don't understand, though. He'd come off it sometimes, and cry himself to sleep. If it was making him sad, why did he use it? I used to comfort him in any way I could, but it was no use. It didn't do him no good.

I remember the day he left home. Just packed up, gave me a quick hug and told me to promise him I wouldn't say anything. Then out the door he went, and I followed him, too scared to leave him on his own. Though I got lost, and haven't seen him, or my family since.
And that was two years ago.

[brad!]

ｏｈ ｐｅｎｄｌｅｔｏｎ．．．
ｈｏｗ ｗｉｌｌ ｙｏｕ ｃｏｐｅ
ｗｉｔｈ ｂｅｉｎｇ ａ ｍｏｎｓｔｅｒ？

name
Pendleton
(pronounced pen-dl-tuhn)
age
About four years
gender
Male
breed
Shar-Pei
allegiance
No allegiance
romantic interest
None
height
22 inches
weight
61 pounds
relations
None

Oh Pendleton, how will you cope with being a monster? were words often spoken from a mother to her only child. A sad one she was, always pointing out the fact that I'd grow up to be a creature that killed for fun. Well, that was at least what we both thought, and we had fair reason to. However, we were wrong.

Due to my gentle and placid nature, I was deemed unfit for whatever disgusting purpose was in store for me, and whisked away, thrown into a silver cage at the local pound. That was a nasty place, full of sadness, and the stench of death. I never quite understood why it smelled of death, though, but an old dog I knew said that if the cutter chose you, you came in, but you never, ever came out. We all lived in fear of that cutter, and I remember watching dogs come and go, and all you could do was nod a goodbye, and wish the best for them.

But it's not sadness for everyone. Sometimes, the pound is the place where you find a new home. I was one of these lucky dogs, but no, I didn't not find a human to live with. Instead, when they let us all out to play, I found a gap in the fence, squeezed through and escaped, becoming a street dog. It's been a rough life to say the least, but it's not so bad. Though, it's the fight for food that always got me.

You couldn't trust anyone, and you needed to make as many friends as possible. Friends are hard to make, and food is far harder to find. I've had my fair share of fights, and the majority of them, I won. I was feared, respected and more often than not, left alone. That was all I wanted, in the end. All I wanted was to be left alone.

So I decided to leave the city in which I lived, and travel, wandering the streets, with no particular purpose. I met lots of dogs, and learned a plethora of new things. I learned how to look after myself, using strange herbs that you found here and there, as well as how to act charming, and get food, shelter and assistance from humans. But now, I live here, and to say that I have no regrets, well that would be the absolute truth.

[brad!]

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ M A G N U S ▬▬
• The truth is written in blood. •

There comes a point in everyone's life where one just has a desire for simplicity, and nothing more. Luckily for this wolf, this is all that his parents wanted, for him, and for themselves. This lad goes by the name of Magnus. Nothing more, nothing less. No formalities at all. Magnus doesn't have any nicknames to note, however, the brute doesn't really mind if he is given one by other wolves that he comes across. Magnus is male, and the only living descendant from his mother and father, a brute by the name of Garian, and a fae that simply referred to herself as Lady. Other than that, Magnus is three and a half years of age, so still relatively young. He was born on the twenty-second of March.

The most notable thing about Magnus is that he is a true soldier at heart. In this, Magnus has a very serious demeanor about him, which makes Magnus seem to be quite unapproachable. Though, this is not in the sense that he is rude, it is more so that he doesn't initiate conversation unless he has to and isn't naturally chatty. If he is spoken to, Magnus tends to feign politeness and is very structured with his responses, generally avoiding smiling or laughing. He's not really the funny type, and this is mainly because Magnus doesn't really understand jokes. The concept of questions and then a punchline never really stuck in this wolf's head, so he tends to take jokes literally, though it's not on purpose. Like jokes, Magnus doesn't understand flirting and is quite oblivious to it, generally dismissing it as friendliness, or something of the sort. Magnus isn't the smartest wolf around. However, he is quite proud, and this shows in the way Magnus stands, walks and talks. He enjoys being a part of a pack and is loyal, doing the job he is assigned without question, determined to prove his worth to the pack. However, Magnus can be quite a cruel and coercive fellow when the time calls. He takes the safety of the pack very seriously, and is easily suspicious of anyone and everyone.

Over the years, Magnus has seen a fair share of his family come and go. Currently, the only two wolves alive from Magnus' bloodline are his mother and father, Lady and Garian. This is because the majority of Magnus' past family (and pack) died from a disease which plagued their lands. More notably, three of Magnus' siblings, little brother Arien and two older sisters, Thysia and Winona. Because of this, Magnus decided it would be an excellent idea to leave, and so he did, leaving behind his old pack, and his old live behind him. Unfortunately, this meant that Magnus had to leave behind his future mate, Freya, because she simply refused to leave, stating that the pack was her family, and was worth more to her than just a fling with a wolf. Naturally, Magnus was hurt and felt betrayed, and hasn't really pursued the topic of love since, purely because it is of no interest to him.

• allegiance here • • rank here • • love interest here •

[brad!]

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ M I S T R E S S ▬▬
• That woman is as powerful and dangerous as she is young and beautiful. •

Sometimes we're driven to do foolish things when we're ambitious. Perhaps we may lie, or cheat, but has one ever thought about what would need to be done for one to be cast from their former life? This young wolf's name is Lady Mariella Ingrid Verossi, though she refers to herself as Mistress. Mistress does not have an offical nickname. However, if one must refer to her as something other than the name she gave herself, Mistress can tolerate Miss or Ingrid, if she has grown close to the specific wolf. This is because Mistress finds herself somewhat 'confined' by her name, believing that her new name grants her some freedom, in the sense that she may do as she pleases, without being connected to her family, and her previous relations. Mistress is two and a half years of age, born on the Twenty-first of August. Mistress is female, and would be quite offended if someone assumed otherwise.

The first two traits that wolves notice about Mistress upon their first encounter (and impression), are the traits of strong and fierce. Mistress has a strong will and a rather determined nature, this correlating with the fact that this fae is well known for being a skilled strategist. Her skill in developing logical and powerful strategies comes from her keen observation skills and ability to disregard exterior distractions. Though Mistress can be seen as a rather aggressive fae, but this can be a incorrect interpretation. Despite the fact the attitude that Mistress possesses can be a little bit of a problem, and a turn off for other wolves, if one manages to get a decent friendship with the young lady, Mistress can actually be quite nice. Mistress will be polite and well spoken, often engaging in conversation, and doing her utmost best to entertain her companion. Love is not something Mistress has approached before, but on the off occasion that she actually managed to fall for someone, this young fae would be as loving and caring as any canine would be.

Mistress does not have a decent amount of family left that she knows that are alive. This is because when Mistress was a younger canine, she was chased out of her own pack for a crime she didn't commit by a group of her own pack mates, which included her two older brothers, Sir Genghis Oliveri and Sir Seth Jonathan. As far as Mistress is aware, they are still alive. Not that she cares, of course. Aside from those two, her other living relations include her father, Lucifer, a brute who refused to be referred to by his full title, to the point where he didn't even tell his children this name. His mate, Lady Anastacia, passed away after being killed by another wolf. Anastacia was not Mistress' true mother, and this was only brought to the fae's attention a few moons before Mistress was cast from the pack. Mistress does not know who her blood mother is.

• allegiance here • • rank here • • love interest here •