Yup you all recognize him, all flaring his wings saying Come on COME AT ME, thrusting his chest forward like hes got nothing to lose.
Type: Baby Renegade RuneCongratulations, it's a Boy!Ok what did you expect to come from a Paragade Rune? You had to know it was either going to be a renegade or paragon that popped up. Anyway, this strong willed boy is the offspring of Niquenaro + Adrian. This rune cares little for the well being of others and would not hesitate to sacrifice the hundreds if it were to save thousands. His actions are straight and to the point, if you can't keep up with him then you will be left behind and considered too weak for the job. The Renegade rune will never go out of it's way to save a few of it's own kind, but none can deny that it's unshakable will always gets the job done and done right, no matter the cost. For this rune, the ends always justifies the means and he will take down anyone who gets in his way. He is confidant, dominate, and crude in his methods, but will only accept those who are strong and unyielding. Even at his young age he bears scars from fighting with runes twice his size and he makes sure to wear them proudly. Though his methods are not to be desired, this rune would die rather than admitting defeat and will often take brazen chances to ensure his success.
The Rune Bearer:
Verto (I'll have him and his rune drawn better later lol)
None at this time
Usage: In Greek Mythology (Latinized), and Ancient Greek (Latinized)
Pronounced: PIR-əs (English)
Meaning & History:
From the Greek name Πυρρος (Pyrros) which meant "flame-coloured, red", related to πυρ (pyr) "fire". This was another name of Neoptolemus the son of Achilles. This was also the name of a 3rd-century BC king of Epirus.
2ft at the shoulders, and around 4'2" in length nose to tail tip
16in/40.64cm around (excluding wings)
4'5"ft from wingtip to wingtip
In other words, a renegade. He goes against the norm, looked down upon because of his outspoken urge to prevail and sense of justice. The scars he bears, he got them for a reason, wears them proudly, standing high and tall showing everyone that hes not a weakling. When push comes to shove, he pushes, fights, wins. Though, he knows where a fight is to much. Little Pyrrhos isn't about to fly all out at an ancient, he knows when he can win. Taking advantages of weakness, making daring moves, that practically is woven into his name.
Why do you wish to have him/her:
Asking one why they want something is a simple question, for them to give you an answer is hard. I don't know how to really explain WHY I want him, why he connected with me. It could be his colors, red and black. Quite often I find myself coloring with those two colors, the combo together happening to be my favorite combo. The way it blends and moves, woven behind the scars this rune bears. The scars, the most prominent feature of this rune. I love them really, quite often they tell and develop the personality of a character. So, an overall combo of black and red, with scars, now that's a character. I feel as though I ramble now, move along, move along *waves hands dismissively*
The Story of his life! Told from his eyes
A clasp of lightning, roar's of anger, snapping of teeth, and the bellowing yells of humans, it’s all I can really remember of my parents. Every night I curl up and close my eyes, it’s all I see, all I remember. The only memories I have of my parents were my father’s cold breath, and the bravery of my mother as she fought to save me. After the whole deal with the banning of magic, and anything associated with it, raids for Runes like these were common, we could fetch a good mint on the Black Market. Young runes like me? Well we were sold as pets, forced to live in small cages. At least, this was the life I had to live for so long. Sold on the black market, I found myself in the company of a trader, with a side hobby.
That side hobby, one he seem to hide so well yet it being so obvious? Well, I didn’t get these scars from nowhere. I was a fighter, but didn’t start that way. I was used as practice for older runes, their claws lashing out, me running for my life. I was too small! Or so I thought. Turns out, size really didn’t matter, and, I could fight back. I got fed up with running, stood my ground, and won. I’ll always bear that scar with pride I won it! It wasn’t my only win as well, again and again I won, fight after fight. I was eager for the fight, shifting in my small cage as they released us into a larger cage to fight. I was pitted up against larger and larger runes; some even had bonds with their ‘owners.’
As a pride and joy of the trader, I was displayed! Not that I cared, I mean, any single finger that entered my cage found itself missing from its owner. Even the trader himself had a few good scars to show. No with how I tell it, it sounded so nice. No, it wasn’t, yes I liked to fight, but I hated the cage, I wanted a real fight! I wanted to be free, to fight who I wanted, not who was chosen for me. I was a renegade, strong, proud, willing to sacrifice everything to win, to get what I wanted. Heck, I probably would fight an ancient if I could! Though I know that would be a stupid thing to do with how small I am.
It was a late summer day, typical market time. A potential customer came by the booth, white hair, and black hat. He stood out that was for sure, looked like some adventurer. He browsed over the merchandise, his fingers running over each item carefully. It was almost as if he was testing if they were real, they were, but, I guess one could not be too careful when buying something right. He hovered around for a while, testing the weight of knifes and daggers we happened to have in stock, which was a lot since that’s what my merchant specialized in apparently. During this entire time, his head was down, the hat obscuring his face. This was odd; normally customers looked at me, I mean a rune in plain sight in public? Something that was common in the past, but now, was like a beacon of light saying COME LOOK!
Finally he took his leave, and as he walked away, he looked back, at me. Wow was I surprised with what I saw. Heck, he looked like he had been in a few good fights himself. I didn’t really take much mind to it then, then, I noticed a dagger missing. It seemed the trader hadn’t noticed. Had that man really stolen the dagger right under my eyes? When I looked back, he was gone. I felt a sense of sorrow at his disappearance, I didn’t understand it, why be sad about a thief disappearing? Its not like I knew him or anything.
That night was a big fight, I was fighting an adult rune, full sized and battle hardened. I was ready, shifting in my cage, watching my owner take bets to see who would win. I would win, no doubt about that! But, then I saw the rune. He, was massive. I probably could fit inside the runes belly with one swallow! Gulping down air, I was rudely shoved into the main cage. He was on me in a flash, teeth latching around my wing and tossing me aside. The humans screamed! They yelled, cheered, and hollered obscenities. Catching myself, I prepared for another attack. It was then, through the bars, that I saw him. The man from the market, he was here, watching the fight. But, he didn’t even look at the other rune, he was looking at ME, crept me out slightly. But, I felt a surge of strength seeing him. Why he was here I wasn’t sure, perhaps he was a fan.
Lunging forward I slammed my small form into one of the runes legs. Caught of guard, the rune collapsed. I was soon on its back weighing down with all my weight. Not that that did much, he reared up, throwing me back against the bars. I slowly got up, shaking my head and letting out a hiss. All went silent, it was odd really, but, I could hear the man say something. “You can do it,” his voice stood out, I didn’t understand it. But, those words, I surged with pride.
I lunged forward again, my small teeth latching onto the runes throat, while my claws tore at its chest. It thrashed around, slamming me into the wall, the ground, the roof, but I held my grip. He was tiring I could feel it. Finally, with a thud, the rune fell to the ground, exhausted. I stood over it and let out a hiss of victory, well, I tired to roar, but I was small. I looked around, searching for that man. I found him standing not far from where he was originally, and he smiled. Was he proud of me? If so why, he didn’t even know me?
My owner returned me to my cage as usual, gave me a small meal. I was proud I had won, but the image of his smile lingered. It took me awhile to get to sleep; I didn’t understand why I was so bothered. Wasn’t I supposed to be proud? I didn’t know. My over went to sleep soon after putting me in the cage, covering it with its typical sheet to help me sleep apparently.
I hadn’t been sleeping long when I felt my cage was moving, and fast. Someone was running, was it my owner? I didn’t know, that sheet still lay over my cage. It was then that I heard my owner shout “THIEF! HELP CATCH HIM! NO NOT THAT MAN! HIM!” I figured when my owner corrected someone, the thief had managed to pass it off as someone else. I could hear the thump of whoever this was feet on the ground, I was completely unsure where and why he was running. The sound of hard stone turned to gravel, and then, something caught. I could hear the stumble, and next thing I knew, the cover was off, and my cage, with me in it, was flying though the air.
Crashing to the ground I hissed, but to my amazement, it was him! It was that man, the one who was at the market, who stopped at the booth, who had watched me fight, rooted me on. I felt a surge of happiness, why, I really don’t know. I wanted so badly for him to get up, to fight like I did in the cages. He would have to, since; right behind him in hot pursuit were five men.
I watched as he rolled over and pushed himself off the ground, without his hands. In fact, he used the momentum of his own body to flip off the ground and land on his feet. He was quickly thrown back off them as a man slammed into him. To the ground they went, his hat knocked clean off from the impact with gravel. But, he seemed to be taking it no qualms about it. His opponent was some burly man I knew as Dale, a bodyguard to the traders of the caravan they were in. Dale raised his fist, was about to throw it down to land a punch, when the thief gripped his shirt and kicked the man over his head. Rolling quickly to his feet, the thief planted his feet down and readied his fists.
As Dale rushed forward, almost as quick as lightning the thief threw a punch that landed square in Dale’s stomach. Dale hunched over, breath knocked out of him, the thief following the punch with an uppercut that staged Dale back. Was he a boxer or something? He sure looked like it, probably fought with his hands all the time. Judging by the scars that dabbled his skin, he was in quite a few fights. Dale was recovering though, and, he wasn’t the only one there to fight. The sound of a arrow flying through the air, it nicked the side of the thief’s face. He flinched, reaching up and touching the cut and smiling. Was he happy bout blood being drawn? Seemed he enjoyed the fight just as much as I enjoyed it.
The thief took out a dagger and quickly flicked it out of his hand landing it in the archers shoulder. The archer let out a scream of pain, dropping his bow and gripping his bleeding wound. Dale was back up by then but as soon as he was there was a dagger at his throat. He stopped, glaring at the thief before saying “Verto…come now was a dagger really necessary?” Verto smiled flinging out a remark “a dagger is always necessary Dale, especially when you’re outnumbered” He winked before landing his knee right between Dales legs. Dale, like most men, quickly fell to the ground in pain, his hands cupped over the region of pain and rolling on the ground.
Verto ran his hand through his hair and smiled picking up his hat and then picking up my cage, carefully at that so not to injure me or jar me. I stared at him curiously before hearing shouting in the distance and looked in that direction. Verto, was casually walking away, and they didn’t seem to notice him even as they ran to tend the men who had attacked him. He walked for a while; I wasn’t really sure where he was going. I let out a cry trying to catch his attention. He looked down at the cage, seeming to ponder what to do. Finally he set the cage down on the ground and opened it. I didn’t bite his fingers, it, felt different really having someone open the cage without another Rune being on the other side.
I crawled out and climbed to the top of the cage, I was grateful to be free, at the same time a little indignant on the situation. I didn’t need the help of a human to get free did I? I didn’t know, and when he started to walk away I called out to him. I didn’t understand why, why had I called like a lost child to a human? All I had ever known of them was brutality and fighting, why did I feel I needed help from this one. He paused looking back at me before walking back and holding out his hand. I was still small, so, I crawled up his arm and sat on his shoulder. From that day, I stayed with him. Why? I felt a connection with him, a friendship. Maybe it was because we were both renegades, and both liked getting in fights. Who knows, but the connection is there. Maybe I’ll understand more when I’m older, I don’t know, for now; I just pride myself in helping free runes that need help.