Pet's ID Tag: #97
Name You'd Choose for It: Blood Splattered Pavement (and Disk, and Deathsong)
Gender: Male
Species: Oddly colored German Shepard(tail bobbed in accident as pup), with very little bit of wolf blood far back in ancestry.
Reason You Want It: First of all, this dog would catch my attention even if it wasn't a zombie, it has a very, unique, pretty, interesting fur design, and I love it. The light, pastel blueish grayish color would be adorable on a living breathing dog, so not its twice as nice. The calm, sweet, light bluish, contrasts wonderfully with the rotting, evil zombie. The design caught and held my attention. It actually reminded me of pavement, like a sidewalk, the newer ones, after they've been there awhile and gotten a few good scratches, or maybe a sightly scratched-up, gently loved, music CD. So those are part of his name(s). XD Second, he IS a zombie, I love zombies. especialy dog zombies. That just triples the awesomeness of the design. I've honestly wanted a zombie for awhile now, but couldn't find the inspiration to make a good one, and could never find one. Now its near Halloween, there showing up everywhere, and its the perfect time for one, this one just seemed to latch on to me. Third, its VERY near my birthday(Oct. 7th) and Halloween, so I figured I'd try to get myself a Halloween-themed birthday present, if I couldn't make one.
History: It didn't seem at all important then, I just wanted to go for a walk. I snuck out all the time. Even if we were at war, on lockdown, AND near a nuclaer testing plant, I always had to be rebelious, prove I wasn't afraid. But I was happy then. I was liked, and had friends, a reputation as a fun guy, and a bad boy. I liked it that way. I also had a rep as a lady-killer. I knew I looked good, and so did all the girls. I was healthy and strong, and my light blueish coat shone in the sun, giving me my old name, Disk. I can't remember the last time someone called me that. Heh, I haven't even been called by my preferred name in years, which isn't that long anymore. Now everyone knows me as Deathsong, which is a really stupid name, considering I can't even vocalize properly anymore, let alone sing. It just had to do with music, relate to my old name, he was being clever. A week after the explosin someone finnaly found me, a old friend of mine, stuck under the debreis of the power plant. Seeing me moving, responding, seeming a living being, he though I was alive, and joked there must be some kind of death song coming for me. Ha. There was. Now thats just who I am. Deathsong.
You see, as I walked, the enemy in this pointless war we had decided to strike us for the first time anywhere near my city, right where I happened to be. I remember that moment so vividly, its more like I'm there, than a dream, or memory. I was strolling, slowly along the side of the road. The wind smelled ike the maple and oak trees in the huge park, not a block away. The sky was dark blue, with a few dust colored clouds. I was limping ever so slightly, as I had sprained my back, left leg around a week ago. Then, I had the strangest sensation that something was very wrong, and I should start running as fast as I could away from there.I thought I was afraid of the nuclear plant, but I had walked past it hundreds of times, so I ignored it. Then, about two minutes later, I heard the loud, clanking, buzz of a plant and looked up. I though how corious it looked and watched it circle the plant, then drop a small black thing, getting bigger and bigger as it fell. I knew then it was a bomb, they're first strike in this war that comes to us. I waited for it, knowing I wouldn't escape. I just remember seeing all white for a moment, then nothing. My dead body got trapped under the nuclear plant's rubble. The weird chemicals and stuff must of somehow re-animated me. I'm blind, I can't see, or hear at all. But my smelling ability and intelligence gained someway, somehow. Not that I'm going to complain, I don't feel pain, I don't need to eat. I don't even have the crutch of feeling most emotions anymore. Its the constant, mind-numbing boredom that comes with being one of the few things left on the world that brings killing. The few living desandants of civilzation that manage to make small coloneys and keep living are the only "company". The childran of the few that managed to not be blown up or smoked out in the war. They might of even managed to make the city livable by now, if it wasn't for me. But if they can live, have company and a real life, why can't I?
They scream and run whenever they see me, at first I only sighed and walked away, chance of company gone, but eventually I got angry. Then, if I saw them, if I could get to them, they're be finished. I suppose the odd whistling, pained, gargle that comes from my rotted throat that is my snarl, I suppose it is their Deathsong. I then eat all there flesh slowly, to consume time, not because I need any nutrition. Then to use even more time up, I take the bones, one by one, and take them to the door of the bodies coloney. I only leave the blood on the sidewalk. And of couse, people would see the blood-splattered pavement where I was, and that is my mark, nobody dares go over there ever again. Not by me, not near my mark, the Blood Splattered Pavement.
Background: Disk was a happy pup, he loved to play, and make up silly jokes that only pups understand. He was always very caring and loveble. Then as he got older, things didn't change much. He had the same personality, but now he didn't have as many friends. As childran becaome older, they started to see. And with this kind of sight came questions. Why was he so happy-go-lucky? Why didn't he look normal? Why wasn't he like them? Then his popularity dropped, and as did his happiness. By he time he hit his teen years, he was used to it, and he was stronger.Then, there was news, that a war had started. Very strict curfews and areas to go in, etc. but he never cared. He kept doing his own thing. With that rebellion, his popularity escalated, untill he was the happy, sarcastic, lady-killer he was so proud of. Then one day the ememy dropped the first bomb right on his homeland, right where he was. He dies, but something weird happens to his body, and the nuclear plant turned him into what he is now. He is my definition of a zombie. He goes on rampages through the city, into a colony, trying to survive in a watseland, decades after.
Personality(s): Disk; was a calm, funny, rebelious, great to be around, nice guy most of the time. As he got more popular, he went through relationships fast, but it didn't bother him. He couldn't yell at a person without feeling terrible afterwards, but this doesn't seem to rattle his nice guy side at all. He was adventuring as a pup, and got in a accident, with his tail stuck in a fence, to where part got cut off, so now it looks like a longish bob tail.
Bloodsong; is a terrifing, menacing, out of control monster that kills any living thing it can, not feeling, only feasting, then dropping the bones at the colony's door to mess with their emotions. He is a ingenious, presise, not or seeing,or feeling, or caring, or showing any sort of remorse, an insane, evil, wicked, blood-craving beast.
Blood Splattered Pavement; is a troubled, lonley, sad, confused dog, who only wants company, but can't control himself after being alone and killing for decades. He wants to feel, he wants love, he wants company, but he can no longer even attempt to get it. He's gone insane.
I understand that by adopting this creature I take full responsibility for it.I think this is done.