Tracker Dogs V2.0 [Series 20]

[Xantra]

Tracker Dog Application Series 20
Username::3Love
Tracker Dog you want:62
Name you'll give it:Ebony
Reason why you want it: So i can have it as a charrie and draw pictures of it also so i can lovvvveeee itttttt!!!!!!!

Will it be used in any kind of story?possibly yes i might write one about it if i get it!
Describe its personality:Ebony is friendly and sometimes secretive she has a buzzing personality but tough silent she expresses her emotions through actions and looks.

Write an introduction for your Tracker:A large shape hidden by the shadows, moved slowly across the the back lawn of the abandoned ware house. It stepped into the shadows and it immediately started to glow a lime green, from across the road a young girl looked out of her window. She saw it, "Mummy i wan't one of them!" SHe whispered to herself. And like that it disappeared leaving behind a green mist and a deserted yard.

[Chara Dreemurr]

Is it alright if a form is still a 'WIP' when judging?

[LaChromaticDragonfly]

Yes it is, but it may reduce your chances.

[Desmond]

Yes it is, but it may reduce your chances.

Might, might not. I know, when I won Seeker, my form wasn't complete. It was also in the middle of a line of WIP form winnings. :)

[Chara Dreemurr]

I guess only Nex knows...

[Zax]

Nex, my application involves an address to the Training Facility. Can I simply make one up, or do you already have one stashed away in the forum somewhere?

[Nimaine]

Every dog has its day, and every shark has its fin. Give me a way, and a will to win.

Tracker Dog Application Series 20
Username:

Nimaine

Tracker Dog you want:

#63

Name you'll give it:

Darcivail. Once again, the combination of two words. The "Darci" part comes from the attractive and unobtainable, Mr. Darcy of Pride and Prejudice, who had both pride and principles. He also ended up with a clever, irrepressible heroine. The "vail" part is an old word for a gesture of respect. This could be interpreted in two ways: either you must vail to Darci here, or you have earned his vailing to you. The latter is how Velh, his owner, interprets the name as regards to herself. The first meaning, she explains, is meant for other people. She's not entirely delusional in this regard, either.

Reason why you want it:

Well, as you probably know, my curiousity was piqued by the glimpses I caught of this fellow before the series was released. I've always had a soft spot for sharks, they seem to get the worst breaks, always the villian of the piece in fiction and being hunted to extinction for shark fin soup in real life. Besides this, there's his wider snout and multitude of teeth, and his fishy tail and back-fin, all of which scream "Shark!", the missing clear fins give his leg blades a more ferocious appearance. Then there's his gorgeous color scheme. There is no such thing as an ugly color, only unattractive color combinations. And grey, as well as shades thereof, like the pale blue-greys here, are special. Greys make all nearby colors stronger, clearer, and brighter. They certainly help his firey orange eyes show up. The soft dappled pattern on top reminds me of the whale shark's coloration, a gentle shark that doesn't mind divers hitching a ride on its giant fins. This guy probably won't be quite that sweet, as he has his pride and he likes to scare folks, but that doesn't mean he's forgotten his sense of duty. If you really need a lift, he'll give it to you.

All the above made me rush off an application for this guy. But then I had second thoughts: I've had wonderful success in integrating Ferral into Malachi's team, he's really helping me with story ideas- both getting the ideas and actually typing them out. I really, really love this- in fact, I'm in the proccess of writing another one now, it'll be the fifth. Simon, too, has been giving me awesome ideas for lengthy roleplays, and eventually I want to do a novella-length story for him, as his talents and job are just too cool I want this next Tracker to also be an inspirational force for one of my stories

And I think I've found just the place for him. I recalled a favorite old story I'd started and developed characters for, but never finished. In fact, I haven't gotten much past the beginning. The trouble is, it's missing a piece. All the other main characters are there, and quite clear in my mind, but there's a funny-looking hole shape next to one of them. I am currently under the impression that this hole is Aquatic Tracker-shaped, for the most part. Though some odd attributes, somethings less dog-like than most Trackers, would probably be a better fit than an ordinary Normal. Something like this wonderful shark-creature you've created...

Will it be used in any kind of story?


I'm writing a story that takes place in the Pu'lot arm of the Kleeshay Galaxy. (If you haven't winced by now, try saying the names out loud.) For in the Pu'lot arm resides the planet Shtorry, much like our own in scientific terms of atmosphere and gravity and even the mundane things like people and animals. Actually, Shtorry has more types of animals than earth does, but all these animals should be familar to the well-read earthling. The regular social classes exist there, rich, poor, middle, and noble. But some unusual job titles exist among the more ordinary ones of: shopkeeper, innkeeper, mapmaker, and more. The most famous of these job titles were: heroes, and villains, followed shortly by sidekicks, minions, and hero's love interest (which is sometimes simultanously the villain's love interest- and that happens too often to be coincidence). If you have one of these more famous job titles or even a large supporting role, you can be guaranteed fame, fortune, and a very early retirement (though the prescence of sequels may require a temporary return to your job). Of course, in the case of the villain job, "retirement" quite often means death or imprisonment. How can you tell if you're to get one of these special jobs? Easy, go to the fair (any fair, really) and ask the fortune-teller or psychic or seer to tell you your future. Then they'll tell you who you're going to be. Fortune tellers and the like are considered infallible on Shtorry, so what for us is a choice is for them a destiny...

So that's the basics. It's still in the first draft, so there may be edits and changes, but you get the idea. The whole story will probably not be placed on the internet, at least not until I get some rejection letters from publishers first. Since I do enjoy roleplaying when I get the chance, I'd probably also like to rp this guy with either one of my rp characters (more info on these two later, I really should put it here, but classes, clubs, and part-time job have all started!) or possibly with a modernized, rp-version of the characters in the story. Read and be entertained

Describe its personality:

Personality Highlights

::Possessive:: Give him something, and it's his, for life! He'll guard it, hide it, and store it just like any human miser would. Except, unlike a human, he forgets his old treasures- where they were and even what they were, unless someone mistakenly tries to remove it from one of his hiding places while he is present.

::Retriever:: Darcivail loves playing fetch for hours and hours and hours.... especially fetching sticks in the water. He'll even fetch stones dropped into the water, a talent we have tried to encourage, in order to collect samples from the ocean floor.

::Pride:: He passed all of his tests as a youngster, easily. He heard the praises, he knew they were for him. Darcivial has pride in his abilities and by golly he's not going to let you forget it! Ignore one if his talented displays (usually tricks- like giving a paw or hiding his snout with a paw), and he'll get in your face and growl warningly until he recieves his just and proper praise.

::Principled:: Darcivail has his principles. It's what keeps him from indulging his temper or tearing tasty-looking animals to bits when he's been told not to. It's impossible to keep him from seals or shrimp, however. While his first three rules rather resemble Asimov's laws of robotics, the rest are his own. Why else would he live by the maxim: a food in the stomach is worth to in the environment?

::Anti-Citrus:: Despite his love of ingesting all things edible, and some that aren't, like the paper you wrap around fish when you get it from the market, Darci hates citrus. He might nibble on it a bit in order to remind himself why he dislikes it, or accidentally swallow a large mouthful, but it never quite agrees with him, either in flavor or digestion.

::Frightening:: There's nothing Darci loves more than scaring the pants off of people. Even people close to him are not immune. He loves being assigned to guard something, as this means he gets to frighten and perhaps even bite people without getting scolded!

::Confident:: Darcivail passed every test he underwent at the Tracker Dog labs. Not always did he do so with ease, but the harder the victory, the more his confidence in his abilities grew. He sees himself as an alpha Tracker, someone to guide and lead the others. Whether other Trackers see him this way depends on their personalities.

::Play Rough:: Darcivail likes to play, but he plays /rough/. His jaws are large enough to engulf the head of a Stealth, and while careful not to press down, he very much enjoys the sensation of the power of life and death. No doubt thanks to his shark-nature, he is very instinctive, and you have to be careful a game of chase doesn't turn into a game of prey.

::Metal the Guilty Pleasure:: With such a strong biting force, Darcivail soon outgrew ordinary chew toys. This was especially awkward with his teeth coming in as a pup. He experimented on unyielding metal, and found he liked the cool, hard texture for gnawing. Better, he liked it with a tasty plastic coating, sort of the opposite of a tootsie-roll pop, where the hard part was in the middle and the soft stuff on the outside. He was scolded for chewing wires as a pup, and now that all his teeth are in he has mostly stopped the habit.

::Glutton:: This character flaw is usually attributed to his shark side. But dogs can be gluttons too. If Darcivail wasn't such an enthusiastic swimmer and runner, he might become quite fat. He has been known to slaughter whole hen-houses, and much effort has been expended to keep him away from sheep. Perhaps his time alone in the ocean, where he had to fend for himself and feed himself, has contributed to this.

::Attentive:: Darcivail is very attentive to his chosen human, keeping an eye on them and their moods. When alone with this special person, he can be surprisingly sympathetic and comforting, turning into a snugglebug, a pillow, and letting them use his fur as a hankerchief to dry their eyes.

::Ham:: Darcivail is a conscious performer. He likes to strike poses and get reactions. He also likes to be the center of attention, especially if there's a large number of people. Naturally he can't understand the true concept of photography, but when everyone gathers together for a picture, he makes certain to put himself in the group, right in the very front. Probably due to all the pictures taken of him when he was a developing puppy, he knows what the smell of a camera means.

::Temper:: Darci has a temper, and a rather nasty one at that. Wake him up suddenly, without warning, and he is liable to give you a taste of those shark teeth. Don't tease him by holding a toy or a treat just out of his reach, either. He has a way of shortening the distance, or your limb. Just don't irritate him without good cause, and you'll be fine.

::Hero:: This attribute is a result of the mixing of three others: confidence, principles, and initiative. Combining those three, in the right situation, will make for a hero. Since he works primarily as a oceanic geologist's assistant, he doesn't have all that many chances to be a hero, but when he does, he usually takes the opportunity presented.

::Initiative:: Darci has initiative. That means he doesn't wait around for orders if something is going horribly wrong. He'll do his best to fix it himself. This has sometimes resulted in trouble, for him or his intended rescuee, but his confidence in his abilities returns more quickly than most people would like, especially after a little praise.

::Belly Rubs:: If there's one reward for a job well done that Darci values more than food, it's a belly rub from a trusted person. He has upset many people's first impressions of his ferocity when he asks for one after making a good job of whatever his assignment was... say, guarding?

Physical highlights

1. Agility- lacking the usual thin fins on his legs, back, and tail, Darci can get himself in and through a greater number of obstacles without worrying about getting stuck. He can make tighter turns, quicker dives, and faster stops.

2. Fish/Shark Tail- Darcivail uses this tail when he wants an exra boost of speed in the water. On land, he uses it like a cymbal, slapping it against the wall or floor or even a person to gain attention.

3. Back Sharkfin- if Darci keeps his head down while swimming just under the waterline, this fin makes for a very threatening display. Darcivail will approach pirate ships this way for stealth, and he will approach casual swimmers this way too in order to scare the stuffing out of them, before lifting his head up and barking at their hastily retreating forms. It's also useful for giving lifts to swimmers in need of assistance or sometimes to those who are just plain lazy. Wrap your hands around it and hang on for a wild ride!

4. Shark Teeth- many pointy teeth are visible the second this Tracker opens his mouth. Darci uses these teeth and the biting force behind them to bite through things like thick ropes, clamshells, or even couple-inch thick planks of wood.

5. Regenerating Tongue- because any time Darci's tongue accidentally gets too close to his teeth it tends to get cut off, Darcivail has a tongue that quickly regrows to its former length. He has learned to keep his tongue from being bitten off most of the time, but during times of stress and excitement he tends to forget.

Write an introduction for your Tracker:

Around ten o'clock that morning, a hole appeared in the ocean. Not in the seafloor, but in the water itself. The water went towards it, but met more water, so it backed away again. Humans from earth would call this hole an anomolous warp in the space-time continuum or even a miniature wormhole. Here on Shtorry, had anyone been around to see it, it would have been called a "plot device." Plot devices were quite common in this arm of the galaxy, hence the name Pu'lot. Through this hole swam an Aquatic Tracker, with quick, decisive strokes. He looked around, a little curious but mostly evaluating. How had this strange-smelling water gotten into his training tank? Who, or what, was responsible for this? Was it another test? He had to find out. He knew he was the most intimidating and finest aquatic to have been created so far. If there was something wrong, he had to fix it. If it was a test, he had to pass it.

Two weeks later, I was standing on the deck of a small ship, while Charnsworth was enthusiastically explaining his plan. Perhaps I should introduce myself. I'm Velh, from the latin word "vel." I just added the "h" on the end to make it sound more important. If I believed those idiot fortune-tellers, then one day I'd be one of them. But that's way too boring. I want excitement, I want adventure! So I just told everyone that the fortune-teller didn't know what I was going to be. That way I get to choose for myself.

Fortunately, I live with two great teachers: a retired reluctant hero-Charnsworth, and a retired villian-Tornaquil (he considers himself a retired anti-hero but Charnsworth says they all do). Whenever I need advice on becoming a future hero or villian, I just ask one of them. I also have a sidekick (if I become a hero) or minion (if I become a villain) -in-training, my best friend Miracolus. Like me, when he was discovered in a flood he was suffering from amnesia, though he was found a few months before I was. When we were found, the queen asked Charnsworth to care for us. Charn says it's becoming a habit with her to drop people off on to his generosity. He had been asked to house Tornaquil earlier, as Torn is living in exile now.

That said, Charn likes all of us now. Not as much as he likes his rocks, but more than Torn likes me. I think Tornaquil's got it out for me. Mira he spoils, Charn he respects, but me- I get what Charn calls "tough love" and Torn calls "disdain." Anyway, enough backstory for now.

I said we were all on the boat, right? Tornaquil had found a navy blue, weathered captain's outfit. He was responsible for the actual sailing. Mira and I were wearing matching white sailor's outfits, by design. Charnsworth was wearing his 'rock gear' which consisted of rugged leather and cotton, with leather gloves and a bag full of picks and shovels and scientific instruments wrapped in cloth. "I've arranged with the head of the geology department at the university for us to take measurements and record our findings here. This way, we can study the fault and our knowledge will should give us warning to be prepared if Isos over there-" he nodded to the volcano on shore "decides to erupt. Now, here are your seismographs," Charnsworth continued, "set them on the ocean floor until the readings stabilize, then record the vibration frequency and intensity by pushing this button on top. It's only 250 feet deep here, so you should have no trouble reaching it."

At this point I stopped paying attention to what Charn was saying and just stared at him with a shocked expression and gaping mouth. 250 feet! What did he think I was, a rock? Forget about the pressure- even I don't think I could hold my breath that long. I gave Mira a look that said "Can you believe this?"

He shot me back a "Isn't this great?" grin that held no trace of sarcasm. I looked to Tornaquil where he stood beside Charnsworth. I was expecting him to be sadistically pleased at my fate, but instead he was simply giving Charnsworth an odd look. Finally, he interrupted his friend, "How are you going to get them back up from 250 feet alive? Or are you planning a murder and didn't include me?"

A smile blossomed over Charnsworth's face. "Just a minute," he said, not minding the interruption as he went into the cabin. He returned in less than a minute with two heavy metal cases and helmets with glass face covers. "I got your underwater breathing covered."

"Great. What about the pressure?" I asked.

Charnsworth looked surprised. "What about the pressure? You're not even going a mile down."

One of these days someone will have to carefully explain the difference between a person and a rock to dear old Charn. But it won't be me and it won't be today. Miracolus said, "C'mon, Velh, what are you worried about?" Other than bleeding ears, and crushed internal organs, nothing, I guess. "Let's go find out how far down we can go right now!"

Hey, I was cool with this. I love the water. It's my friend. I returned his happy smile, "Yeah, let's go!" I took one of the helmets and air supply tanks from Charnsworth and started stripping down to my swimsuit.

Charnsworth seemed happy that we were doing what he wanted us to, but Tornaquil came over to join us by the side of the boat. "I've heard tell of a monster around these parts," he intoned, sounding like the sea captain he was dressed up as. "Huge, nasty beast with glowing eyes. Swallow you up as soon as look at you. Fishermen will cut their nets rather than catch it."

He might be kidding. Or he might be telling the truth. I went back to where I had left my spear-gun, the only real underwater protection against sharks. The little knife at my waist would probably only annoy it. "Just in case," I told Mira, when he looked a question at me.

He shrugged. "Last one in is a rotten-" the rest of his sentence was broken off by the splash of him hitting the water.

"Fish!" I finished triumphantly, jumping in afterwards. The last one in will probably be Charnsworth or Tornaquil, after all.

The water was cool and clear, and caressing on my skin. The glass kept the water out of my eyes, and while my vision was slightly restricted by the rest of my helmet, I could see just fine in front of me. I sank, thanks to the weight of the metal. I was holding my breath out of habit, when just when I was about to experiment with breathing, I inhaled suddenly and deeply. It was a gasp of surprise. There, swimming towards me, was the monster. Sharp, pointy teeth, glowing eyes, like a shark but clearly not a shark, it was going to eat Mira and me!

When the hole closed, not ten minutes after it had formed, the Aquatic Tracker had been caught on the wrong side. But he was a smart dog, strong and agile and quick. He survived on a diet composed almost exclusively of fish, with the occasional young seal. At first he had swum towards the fishing boats, hoping it was one of his trainers or one of the scientists. As soon as head appeared, though, the ships sailed away as quickly as possible. Any attempts on his part to get closer were greeted with thrown heavy objects or beatings from oars and other weapons. What fun was it looking scary if the only thing you could scare was... fish? Lonely and frustrated, the Tracker was getting desperate. He saw two swimmers in strangely familar gear, and swam towards them to investigate, hopefully.

Slowly, resisted by the water, I aimed the spear-gun. It swam towards us leisurely, thinking we were an easy meal. I looked into its glowing orange eyes. Just a little closer, a little closer... It was in range now, but... I didn't shoot. Instead, I just swam rapidly towards the surface, where Mira was already headed. Maybe we could outrun it. Our only chance now.

If I had been thinking, I would have tossed my breathing helmet right away, like Miracolus did. Instead, the monster caught up with me, I could feel its short fur between my feet as it seemed to be helping me reach the surface. Gasping for the air available in my helmet, I grapped the side of the boat where Charn, Torn, and Mira all helped pull me up.

I turned around as quickly as I could wearing all that gear, to face the monster. It's head was out of the water, and in those many teeth it had a firm, metal-denting grip on Mira's underwater breathing gear. Mira pushed in front of me and held out his hand to claim it. "Hey, thanks," he told the creature.

"Interesting. A retrieving monster," Tornaquil commented, looking at it.

"It's friendly," I breathed inside my helmet, and then remembered to take it off. When I could see again, the creature had gotten on the boat, cautiously approaching the retreating Charnsworth. Tornaquil stepped in its path and glared at it suspiciously. The monster seemed to glare right back. Then both took a step forward, and a low growling sound started to rise- I swear from both of their throats.

Another step towards each other, than a certain smashing sound as the creature stepped on one of Charnsworth's vibration sensors. It had only stepped on the button we were supposed to push, but it stepped to hard, breaking the case inward. Charnsworth, who had been up against the wall of the cabin, started forward angrily with no trace of fear, "That's valuable equipment! Get your big clumsy bulk off my ship!"

Embarrased, the Aquatic Tracker whirled away and returned to the ocean. What had he been thinking? He knew from the lab not to step on those funny tools and boxes humans valued- they could be delicate, and ever since he had been reprimanded once as a pup, he had been careful to avoid such objects. And now, here he was, breaking one! He swam away, dispirited.

He's been living in the water so long, he's forgotten how heavy he is on land! In the water, that will be perfect! "Come back!" I shouted to the retreating shark-with-ears. "Come back! He didn't mean it!" Behind me, I could hear Charnsworth hotly denying my words, but I ignored him. Maybe the monster couldn't hear him either. At any rate, it slowed, then began to turn.

"Yes, come back!" Mira added his shouts to mine. It swam faster now, and was soon paddling water beside our little sailing yacht. Charnsworth was not inclined to let it come back aboard, but I argued he shouldn't have left his stuff on the floor. Eventually, when I promised I had a plan on how to work his little survey, he agreed to let it come back on.

"Once we've got him trained to step on the button up here," I finished, "we just toss it in the water and tell him to do it again! He won't be able to until it reaches the ocean floor!"

"And since it's a retriever, he'll fetch it back up for us to!" Mira said excitedly, "That's brilliant, Velh!"

"Thank you," I said smugly.

"Yes, but since it needs some time to record, we should probably give the seismograph device a head start. Charnsworth?" Tornaquil queried. He hadn't tried to crush my self-satisfied mood, which must of meant he was impressed too.

"You are not breaking any more of my seismographs in these training sessions! No!"

"It's all right, we can just re-use the one that's already broken," I pointed out.

It took us a while to explain and train the shark-like creature to do what we wanted. It seemed eager not to repeat its earlier mistake. But eventually, after manually directing it's two-toed foot onto the right part of the equipment, it got it. Charnsworth insisted that Miracolus and I go as deep as we could in the water, to vouch for the successful operation of our experiment. There wasn't an argument from either of us, because we both liked swimming underwater without worrying about how much oxygen we had left. Mira and I watched the instrument fall through the water, until it landed on the seabed, causing a slow cloud of dirty sand to rise around it. Then Mira tugged on the rope that Tornaquil was holding on the ship, and a few seconds later a splash appeared, followed by our retriever shark. Have you ever seen a splash underwater? Very interesting, very fluid-like painting with bubbles. Of course, it's much more fun to feel it.

After checking us out, the shark-monster swam down towards, stepped on, and retrieved Charnsworth's sensor. Very satisfactory, I thought to myself with pride. Of course, it lost some of its novelty after the twentieth time, and after the fiftieth time even Mira no longer looked enthusiastic. Our monster, however, seemed quite happy to go on doing this for hours and hours. So Charnsworth started estimating the time it would take his sensor to sink, and Mira and I, guided by Tornaquil, brought out our fishing gear and sat holding our long poles by the edge of the ship.

Mostly we caught seaweed, the kelp variety, though once Mira pulled in a large piece of driftwood. I think I had at least two legitimate bites, but they got away before I could even see the type of fish. It was Mira who, triumphantly revealing his haul- it was about a foot long and silvery-grey, let the fish dangle on the hook at the end of his pole, still over the water. A magnificent shark- a large shark with ears and orange eyes, breached the surface of the ocean and swallowed the fish whole.

Then there was the desperate effort on my and Mira's parts on calling him back, and Torn and Charn took turns manipulating the fishing line to get the hook back out the way it had come in. The fish came out too, still on the hook, but it was already starting to dissolve. As a reward for staying still and because no one else wanted to eat it, we gave our new pet the fish again, minus the hook.

"I bet he's hungry," I said, "he's been working all day. Mira, let's get the spiced ham." I don't like the spices they put in that ham.

"Well, all right," Charnsworth said reluctantly, giving us permission to raid the mutual food supplies. "But make sure he'll eat it, first." This, naturally, suggested a new game to Mira: figuring out what our retriever shark wouldn't eat. As it turned out, he didn't eat much pineapple and he did spit out the tangerine. Everything else went down the hatch.

About halfway through the game Tornaquil came down and said, in his usual mocking tone, "Since you two have clearly decided to sentence the rest of us to a death by starvation unless we succeed in catching some fish, why don't you come up back up and try again, remembering this time that our lives, and your own, are at stake?"

"Okay, maybe he won't eat the fish off my line anymore," Mira said cheerfully, and ran up the stairs. I didn't want to tell my buddy, but I thought we had discovered one of those bottomless pits you hear about, usually only found in caves or villain's dungeons.

Tornaquil gave the creature an evaluating look, and said thoughtfully, "Well, it retrieves things like a dog, it licks like a dog, despite the extra tongue, all it needs to do is bark like a dog and then I'm convinced. It's a dogfish. Or rather, a dogshark."

"What?" I asked, incredulous.

"Oh, those monster stories I told you about. Some of them described it as being part dog or wolf or something. Werewolf meets wereshark and both are shy, something like that."

"You knew he was friendly, you knew and you let me think he was dangerous!" I said accusingly.

His lips twitched, and then a smile I could only describe as cruel slowly appeared. he looked deep into my eyes, "I knew you wouldn't have the courage or strength to shoot it." Then he left me alone with the dogfish. Dogshark. Whatever.

I petted it as if it were a dog, and it leaned into my hand, as if grateful. "You poor thing. I can't tell if he just wanted to give me a scare, or if he really did intend that you might come to some harm. He's too darn good at that villain voice thing."

At this point, Mira stuck his head in the door at the top of the stairs, "You coming, Velh?" and I ran up them, followed by the dogshark. So we went fishing again, without catching anything anyone would want to eat, except perhaps the dogshark would have liked the sea cucumber I got, if he hadn't wandered off out of boredom. Mira's line broke once. While we sat, we talked about what we would name the dogshark. I wanted to call it Darcy, after a rather famous man of the same name, and Mira suggested Darcy's Pride. Then Tornaquil chipped in with vail, and what it meant, so for a while it was Darcy Vailed, but eventually just shortened to Darcivail. Mira and I naturally shortened it again to a nickname of Darci.

Our sailboat, which really was Charnsworth's, was in a state of some disrepair, as the last Simonides had not cared to go fishing or sailing, but preferred plotting against his queen instead (which was how Charnsworth became a reluctant hero and relucantly acquired the now-deceased man's title). The anchor and its chain had rusted to a point where they were no longer connected. Discovering this just moments before our intended sail, we had used a bit of thin, pliable wire for a quick fix, the rest of the chain and anchor seeming to be in good if rusted states.

Tornaquil, who had been overseeing our fishing with many witty comments about our skill, none of them complimentary but all very entertaining, provided one did take it personally, eventually wandered off and went back to see if he needed to adjust the course. Charnsworth was entering the data from his devices in the back with us, when we heard the royally ticked off call of "Veeeelllllh!" and I ran to the front of the ship. "Look at what your stupid dog did!" Tornaquil held up the anchor and chain, which were once again seperated, the wire holding them no where to be seen. "He chewed through the anchor! Now we'll drift all over the ocean! You may want to die of thirst, or starvation, but I don't! Let me tell you, if it comes to cannabilism I shan't hesistate to start with your dog!" He glared back at Darcivail, who growled at him again.

Looking at Darci, I could now see something shiny sticking out and through those many sharp, pointy shark's teeth. He seemed to have pulled and twisted the wire off, and was now lying down to enjoy a good chew. Or rather, a good gnawing. His extra long tongue was the only thing that seemed to actually be getting chewed- chewed right off, in fact. Small peices of it littered the deck. "Doesn't that hurt?" I wondered out loud.

But I didn't get to wonder long, nor did Torn get the chance to keep scolding me. The ship suddenly lost velocity, and we were both flung forward, barely keeping our respective balances. Darcivail slid on the smooth wooden deck. With no one to guid it, the ship had gotten itself beached on a sandbar. "Didn't you lock the helm?"

"It wouldn't have mattered," Tornaquil muttered crossly, glancing around shiftily.

He was not to get out of it so easily. Charnsworth came up to the front part of the deck and added, "This area is full of rocks and sandbars, that's why he went to the wheel. Why don't you store the anchor below, Torn, we can get it properly fixed tonight when we pull into port. And Velh, get that wire away from your animal. It's lead, and it might poision him."

So Tornaquil went away with the anchor while Charnsworth wound up the metal chain. I approached Darci cautiously, he seemed very happy with his wire. When I reached for it, and spoke in a wheedling tone, "C'mon Darci, give me the wire," he glanced towards me and gave a very unusual high-pitched like growling noise. This droning noise increased in intensity and volume as I placed my hand carefully and the wire that stuck out, away from those pointy teeth, and finally he covered his pointy snout with his two-toed paws in an effort to keep his new toy. "You're going to get hurt if you keep this up," I pleaded.
I felt a hand on my shoulder. "That's not going to work," Charnsworth said, "you've got to distract him. Take him in the water to with Mira and see how much of the ship is stuck."

I recognized a good idea when I heard it, so I did just that. We dove off the back of the ship, still clearly in the water, and swum about halfway around, and then we walked in waist-deep seawater to the bow of the ship. "Maybe we can push it back in," Mira suggested. "Everything's lighter in the water."

"Yes, but this is half-out of the water," I pointed out, but I leaned against it anyway, in preparation for the push. "Ready?"

"Yep. One, two, three, go!" We both strained, but nothing resulted. Another try, and the same result. Then Darcivail got into the act, trying to help by pulling on one of the ropes hanging off the prow. He bit clean through the twisted fibers, though, so Miracolus yelled up to Charn to let down the anchor chain again. Oh, and he dropped that bit of lead wire somewhere in the ocean. I hope nothing else tries to eat it.

"What are you up to?" Charnsworth called down to us. Once we explained our plan, he said, "Wait until Torn and I get down before you try again. I'll have him store the anchor in the rear of the boat, and I'll let down the chain for your dog, Velh."

While we waited, Mira commented that if only we could train Darci to herd the fish towards our poles, we might have better results in fishing. I agreed, but felt the ocean was the wrong place to try such training- both the fish and Darci being hard to control in such a vast area. Why not try it at home, in Ultima Thule's Catfish swimming hole? Or even the moat? Eventually, Charnsworth and Torn joined us, Torn looking at the water as if it might bite him.

"Now let's try that again," Charnsworth said in a bracing voice, and we did. Even Darcivail helped, he had been tugging steadily at the chain the whole time, swimming beside the back of the boat with the chain pulled taught. Slowly, I could hear the grinding made as the heavy wooden sailing ship started to slide against the sand. But then, just as we were starting to build up some momentum, Darcivail came back, nosing me eagerly and trying to push me away from the ship.

Silly humans, Darcivail thought impatiently. Can't they feel that? A huge force rushing through the waters, nothing can slow it, nothing can stop it. If they don't get out of the way, they'll be caught in it. I must move them, I must! The ship, they'll be crushed!

"Cut it out," I told him in a sort of annoyed whine, "Go away, or help out."

Charnsworth paused to, and then said quickly and loudly, "Everyone, take a deep breath and hold it!" I obeyed, wondering why I was doing so, when a large wave came and lifted everyone and everything bodily off the sandbar and flung us back into the deep ocean. There was no fighting the strength of the sea, and actually, once I cleared the sandbar, it was kind of fun to be tumbled around with all the bubbles. When it released me, I swam back to the surface for a breath of air. Mira was there, he grinned at me before ducking back under the surface, Charn was doing a simple, steady stroke back towards the now free and once again drifting ship, and Tornaquil was splashing about like an unnerved beginner.

That was when I noticed the ship start moving against the waves, against the wind. Slowly, it was being dragged towards us, and when a wave brought me up, I could just see Darcivail chugging along, the chain pulled taught once again from the bow of the ship. Yes, things were certainly lighter in the water. "Quit splashing about, and let your chin get closer to the water," I told Torn, "or you'll tire yourself out." He glared at me, but followed my advice.

Mira got there first, swimming mostly underwater. I kept popping in and out, to see how Charn and Torn were holding up- neither of them being big swimmers. "Good boy, Darci," I said when I passed him, and he started pumping his shark tail even faster. He didn't stop performing tugboat duty until Tornaquil got aboard too.

"How did you know about the wave?" Torn asked Charnsworth.

"Oh, there was a small earthquake further out to sea, I found that going through the data. I was expecting a smaller wave, but I guess we were close enough to the shoreline for the water to start rising."

"I don't suppose you could have shared that information?" Tornaquil said in a very dry voice. "Some people consider a tsunami to be..." he paused for emphasis, "dangerous."

Charnsworth gave him a blank look, and Mira chirped up, "Yeah, but this one was helpful! Just like our monster shark!" he petted Darci's head, and the dogshark straightened up with pride.

"It proves our underwater seismographr design works," Charn said. "We'll be out here collecting data for a while, and probably on an annual basis. Velh, your pet will come in very useful. Now, Torn, where's the nearest port? I want my dinner."

[DoctorDraca]

Tracker Dog Application Series 20

Username:
wibeke
Tracker Dog you want:
#62
Name you'll give it:
Firefly [nicknamed "Bug" by her handler]
Reason why you want it:
I've always wanted a tracker. There's something really cute about their long tongues and I love that they're all created for different purposes. They're such a creative species, I'd be honored to be able to call one my own.
I don't try for them often as I'm usually too busy and I've been waiting for the perfect tracker to try for, but this little girl really stole my heart. She's unique and the fact that she can create illusions gives me so many ideas for her story. Every time I look at her I get new ideas of how her story will unfold.
The fact that she's one of your last trackers sort of adds to her charm, I think. It will be sad to no longer see any trackers made by you, Nex [though LCD will do great, I'm sure x3] but you're definitely going out with a bang.

I could go on and on about her, but point is she's one of the few trackers to really catch my eye. Perhaps the third time's a charm? ^^
Will it be used in any kind of story?
Of course. The story here is only the beginning, I have plenty of ideas for her that I'm dying to try out and write down. Though i don't draw/order art of my characters too often, I write about them whenever I get the chance and I'm always trying to develop their stories more in my head.
In short, yes. X3
Describe its personality:
Firefly is, first and foremost, an illusionist. A magician, her "tricks" being odd, seemingly impossible acts and sleight of hand. In a different body she'd be an entertainer, perhaps, impressing thousands with her miraculous feats and "magic."

But the illusions we never meant to become real. At least, in her mind they weren't.
She views her power as a curse, a cruel power bestowed upon her that never seemed to help, leaving her with strange beasts that only seemed to lurk in her mind. Sure, the physical benefits are important, but far outweighed by the psychological defects and constant torment she endures.
Her monsters come in the form of dark beasts created of smoke and energy, the same green aura that surrounds her. They chase her, biting at her heels and snarling insults. She blames these creatures for her lack of energy, believing that they are intent on slowly sucking the life out of her.

But these "illusions" are invisible to all but the tracker, their creator. A side effect of her extraordinary talent, and perhaps an indicator that the strength of this mutation is too taxing on a young tracker's mind. Unable to tell what's the result of an illusion and a creation of her own mind, she is stuck in a state of psychosis.
Even those with the wildest of imaginations can distinguish the difference between the two, recognizing that some things will never become real and that others are as plain as day. Firefly can not, her thoughts often bleeding into the world around her. There is no line between her fantasies and her own reality, nothing to tell her what not to believe.

Despite this, Firefly is an intelligent tracker. It would be foolish to think that her mental instability would have an affect on her brilliant mind. She is remarkably quick at picking up new skills, learning and adapting at an almost alarming rate. There is no puzzle she cannot solve.
She uses her intelligence as a sort of diversion, working at her illusions tirelessly to perfect them. They help her to judge the boundary between what's real and what's not, recognizing that the reactions of others can often determine whether or not it was simply a hallucination.
Real; her footsteps can be silenced. The scientists praise her for performing that trick. Not real; the monsters. No matter how loudly or frantically she tries to run or hide from them, there is no assurance that they see them too. The watch in confusion, scribbling on their clipboards and trying to calm her. Only Jake, her handler, can scare them off though. With him she feels safe, the monsters don't dare harm him.

Knowing their only creatures of her imagination never seems to keep them at bay, though. How could an imaginary animal look so real? If she could move objects without touching them and create illusions, how could these beasts be only a creation of her mind? She can't explain them, but to her there is no proof needed.

---

Outwardly, however, Firefly is a remarkably calm tracker. Very few things can truly scare her, as reality is often no match for the monsters she dreams up. This makes her especially well suited for more dangerous missions where an ordinary tracker would run away in fear. Though by no means fearless, her greatest fears lurk within her mind and don't often present themselves as actual living creatures.

It is not, however, uncommon for the tracker to take off running from invisible attackers or cower in fear at the most ordinary of sights, warped and distorted within her mind. For this reason, combined with her low stamina, Firefly is currently not in use in the field. Instead she will be kept for observation and further training, as her illusions could provide scientists with valuable data and pave the way for newer, more advanced trackers.

Further experiments are needed, but Firefly is content with the thought that someday she'll be out in the field rather than doing practice exercises.

Write an introduction for your Tracker:
The young tracker stared at the ball, confused but intent on doing whatever it was that Jake was asking of her. She was loyal to the man, almost to a fault. He was the only person able to make her feel safe, and she enjoyed every second of his company. He was smart, too. He knew more about trackers than he even knew about his own kind. The result was a large and friendly, but awkward young man. He could train a dog to do damn near anything, making him well suited to handling such an intelligent and powerful tracker, but could hardly hold a conversation with another human being.
Even so, she was confused. He had placed a small, grey ball in the center of the room and said something about "focusing her energy." She snorted, annoyed at the object and somewhat frustrated that Jake wasn't being very clear.
Sighing, she returned to work, focusing again on the ball. To her surprise, it moved. Only a couple inches, but it certainly moved. She couldn't have imagined it, and there was nothing else in the room that would've moved it for her. She scrambled away from it in surprise.

"Good job, Buggy," her handler said, scratching the tracker behind the ears. The tracker wagged her tail, pleased that she had evidently don't something correctly.
"Wanna try another one?" He asked. The tracker barked in excitement, despite the sudden feeling of exhaustion taking over her.

---

She paced about the room, waiting for her handler to arrive back from his meeting.
The room was grey, grey and dead looking. No surprise there, they could've painted the room neon orange and it wouldn't register any brighter in the tracker's mind. Grey was the color of dead matter, anything that didn't have any sort of life to it. She much preferred the outdoors with their bright greens and yellows. It was exciting, fun, and bright. Everything that this dismal little room was not.
Then she got an idea. She'd create something alive, an illusion of some kind. If she could move objects with her mind and silence her foot steps, who's to say she couldn't create a mirage of some kind. She set to work, unsuccessful at first. It was far easier to affect an already existing object than to create one, as she soon learned.
But eventually she had a break through. Little creatures, seemingly made of space began to appear. Black and therefore lifeless to her, but with glowing green eyes of such intensity that it seemed to her that the entire thing was a living, breathing creature. It gave off no scent, nothing to truly tell her that she had succeeded, but she was content with her creation.
A monster only she could see.

She barked excitedly to Jake, wishing to show him her creation, but he only greeted her. She snorted in annoyance, wondering why he would ignore such an accomplishment. Losing interest, she allowed the "illusion" to fade.
But the creature never left. It followed her, multiplying and showing off a long row of teeth and a long tongue mimicking her own. Little balls of smoke, her own invisible creation.

She had created a monster.

Guys, this is how a form can be done. The image was the only extra, but the personality was described so nicely and it intrigued me that I feel that Wibeke really deserves her. The little loop animation was really charming, though, and fit the rest of the form well. Sure, the form had no fancy colours, but it was well written and that's what made me love it.
There were many, many forms, really good forms, I'll admit that. If you have questions or a problem or feel that you deserved this Tracker, then do not make a fuss and simply PM me to let me know. There will be other Trackers, so don't worry. Anyway, congrats Wibeke.

[Angua]

@Nex/LCD
I have a few questions ...
I will apply for #66
* Is her jewelry on the breast a sensor, too, like the jewelry one her head?
* Can I take her straps on the front legs off, too, or only the straps around her wings?
* The red lines on the straps, are they decoration, or oil indicators or something important?
* Am I allowed to speculate about the choosen material of her mechanics? - Only real material, not something like kryptonite
Sorry for asking so many crazy questions, but I get mad about series 20 ^^


Yeah, pay one, take two
So, I can congrats Nix and wibeke for their great brand new Trackers and can wish good luck for all of us apply for the last Nex-series, without spamming, whow!

[paula polestar]

*stares at Nimaine's application* Well, I just lost. xD