Post by celadonwolf on Oct 16, 2011 4:12:29 GMT -5
:: PERSONAL ::
Character Name: Morag
Gender: Female
Breed: Siberian Husky
Age: 3 years of age
Pups: wants
Mate: I'm going to wait for the right guy
:: INFORMATION ::
Image: upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/3/33/Siberian_Husky_sable.jpg (without the collar)
;D 
Appearance: Morag is a rare Sable color, with icy blue eyes and no collar. she has a small nick in her right ear where she was shot with a shotgun.
Personality: Morag has two sides to her and reveals either side depending on who she is with and how they are treating her. One side of her is gentle and caring, while the other is defensive and aggressive. she is good at solving problems and is very quick minded when it comes to such things. She dislikes fighting but she will if he looses her temper or she absolutely has no choice but to fight to survive. She no longer trusts humans. She is not a prissy dog and is not to be messed with. Hates humans. Read past to find out why. Very competitive when it comes to males. She's somewhat of a flirt.
History: ...Morag had been in the pound for weeks. She was on death row. The day before she was killed so they could make room for more dogs, SHE walked in. She was a short, obese lady with curly red hair, pale skin and green eyes. She smelled of cigarette smoke and alcohol. Morag wrinkled her nose in disgust.
"This is the dog I want!" she told the worker in a shrill, high-pitched voice that hurt Morag's ears. The lady had a thick Southern accent.
"Ok. you won't use her for excessive breeding will you? She is not spayed you know and that would be considered animal abu...." said the worker.
He was interrupted by the lady's annoying voice.
"Oh, no! I would never such a horrible thing to this lovely lady!"
Which of course the fat lady had lied as Morag was about to see and find out for herself. When the lady brought her home, she expected treats and food awaiting her. Instead she was painfully shoved into a crate that was way too small for her. There were crates and dogs everywhere! They were in a where-house type building with little to no ventilation. The place reeked of death, urine, feces, and sickness. The place was filthy and the crates were covered in dry mud and poop.
"Gross! This place is so unclean!" Morag yelped.
There was a Black and white dog in the crate next to her with brown eyes. She guessed that the dog was a Alaskan Malamute. The dog turned around to face Morag. She told her of her past, which was rather a sad and scary one to listen to. Morag asked the dog where she was.
She replied, "You are in a puppy mill. Where our only purpose is to have puppies which, the fat lady sells for profit. Oh, and, by the way, my name is Jenna. What's yours? "
"I'm Morag. Nice to meet you, Jenna."
The all of the dogs in the building, including Jenna, were horribly underweight.
Jenna continued, "She doesn't care about our personal well-being. All she cares about is making money. When you are no longer able to have pups, she takes you outside and shoots you."
Morag gasped.
"I need to get out of here!"
"Yes. A beautiful dog such as yourself shouldn't be here and there is no known way out. In fact, none of us should be here." Jenna replied.
Morag looked into each of the dog's eyes that were confined in the building. All the dogs were either, Huskies, Collies, Greyhounds, Alaskan Malamutes, Labradors, Rottweilers, Dobermans, or Dalmatians. Each of their eyes were dull and their pelts lacked basic grooming and were matted and covered in parasites. The dogs themselves were swollen with pups and a few lacked physical strength. Morag couldn't help but to shutter. She started to think of a plan to free herself and all the dogs in this place as well. She turned to Jenna.
"I have a plan..." she told her the plan and the black and white dog nodded with approval.
Word quickly spread among the mill dogs. That night, Morag got out of here crate and started to free the other dogs. When she was in the act of freeing a Brindle Greyhound, who was the last dog that she needed to free, the fat lady walked in.
"Hey! Get back in your crates! You're all supposed to be making puppies!" the lady ordered. She held a shotgun.
"That's the death gun." Jenna whispered to Morag.
The lady had the gun aimed at Morag. She pulled the trigger.... Morag opened her eyes. Morag felt a searing pain in her ear.
"Am I dead?" wondered Morag out loud
"No. she barely missed you. she was two inches off." Jenna whispered
"I think the bullet hit me in the ear. Besides me, did anyone get hurt?"
"Yes. The bullet ended up hitting a Collie named Nicole in the leg... she is fine. I'll clean the wound one we get out of here."
Morag looked over at the collie who had been hit. She was bleeding, but the leg was still intact. It wasn't bleeding badly.
"That's good. "
The fat lady was distracted by reloading her gun. She was fumbling with the bullets and struggling to put them in the gun.
"Make a break for it!" commanded Morag
All the dogs had a sudden burst of energy and ran out the open door and into the woods. Their Adrenalin was flowing through their veins, making the dogs run faster and faster.
It was storming outside. Thunder cracked and lightning flashed as the lady chased after them, gun in hand. She was yelling while still aiming and shooting at them, bullets whizzing past their ears and over their heads. No other dogs were hurt in the great escape. After what seemed like forever, the group of dogs soon outran her, easily. The horrid woman who always reeked of alcohol and cigarette smoke was too fat to run!
Morag looked back over her shoulder and laughed. What a sight! The lady was a few hundred yards off. She was cussing because the dogs escaped and she had run out of bullets. She threw her gun to the ground and jumped on it.
"Hey, look at Mrs. Fat Butt back there!" Morag laughed.
All the dogs turned around and were soon howling with laughter. The lady had turned around and headed back to her "house." The worn out dogs reached the city. They were all panting and exhausted. Morag fainted out of stress and tiredness.
When she awoke, she was alone on the street. No humans were out at this time of night. It was now drizzling and there was a thick layer of fog. She got to her paws and she wondered about the rest of the dogs and where they were and how they were doing. She vowed to herself that she would find those dogs and form a pack with them someday.
She really cared for them and she wondered when that day would come. She began to miss Jenna. She and Jenna had become best friends in that short period of time.
Morag wondered if Jenna and the other dogs were alive and well.
"I hope that they stuck together." Morag thought.
After endlessly wondering around the streets and allies of the city for five days competing for food and shelter, she found herself here where she is safe from puppy mills, abusive red-haired fat ladies with guns that kill dogs, and competition for food and shelter... As for the fat lady, her scheme was discovered by a undercover ASPCA officer and she got a fine of $1,000,000 and life in jail for animal neglect and abuse. She deserved every part of it!
Relations: Jenna (friend). Morag doesn't know this, but they and the other mill dogs are alive and they are looking for her. Mom: N/A Dad: N/A Siblings: N/A
Others: Picture of Jenna.... www.petsuncaged.com/media/pages/resizes/alaskan-malamute_m_matte.jpg
:: THE ROLE PLAYER ::[/b]
RP example: The night ended only a few hours earlier, the sun had risen past the endless forest and now was slowly making it's way up the sky. The air was humid and warm, around fifty something degrees, and the summer heat would only rise. The clouds only covered parts of the sky on this day, leaving the sun clear and the teal sky showing. If you were at a waterfall, or a mountain, or even a beach this would look beautiful. However, at the forsaken church beautiful was an unknown word. The churches flooring was old wood, moist and molded from rain. Most of the once capivating window's were now shattered and had cob webs on every corner. There were still traces of glass particals scattered along the floor, sharp edges promoting a safety hazzard. The building was old and lopsided, creaking with every breath of wind, and the gravestones outside were half covered by the large willow trees. But wasn't this every Dire's dream?
The Dire pack had been nicely lead by Wraith for a while now, no doubt about it she was a well respected leader and a perfect example of Dire. However, for Deja Vu, he would not be lead by a female ruler. The mastiff mix believes that a male should lead, and a female must only have the duty of chores. Some such as birthing, hunting, and caring for their pups. Deja Vu could even tolerate some feas to protect the pack lands, only the strong ones though. He wasn't like most Dire members, he didn't have an entire lust for murder, or rape. No. He believed that kill all you like- but have a reason. Even with this quality, no dog could ever call him nice. Pups are only useful for one thing, making a pack stronger. For him, Deja Vu will take the strongest male pup out of a litter and train him. In fact, a litter of his was to be born soon- a male pup named Temper.
Love and compassion, those weren't apart of his life. He would make a good leader, that was his goal in life. To lead a pack and grow in size. Soon to take over whichever city they live in. He'd pretty much been working on that since his father took him in and raised him to be one. Deja Vu was then put to the test, humans took him and made him a fighter dog. One day the police caught them, but Deja Vu managed to escape. The male regrets nothing of his past though, to him it only made him stronger. The mastiff would, however, offer one thing to the former alpha. That would be that she could reside as beta if she were to step down or loose. This would be a one time thing only because of her expirence and skill- that is IF he won.
Deja Vu is a large english mastiff, with a little bit of bull mastiff and great dane. His size is between a dane and english mastiff, but the bull has no visible features. He is well built and muscular, large and powerful. He is not the fastest dog around, just normal speed for his breed. Nor the most agile, so you couldn't stick him on a beam and expect him to walk across without falling. Still, he is a natural born fighter what with his past expirence and appearance. His entire coat is black brindle with different shades of brown stripes. Along his neck and chest is a crooked white line, relieving into a splotch at his chest. Deja Vu's eyes are round with a color of orange and brown, showing no mercy and a stern feature. His upper lips are not as droopy as mastiff's or great dane's though- unsure of where he got that, and the male's lips are cursed more a grey color than black. Tight around Deja Vu's neck is a brown and black leather collar, with a click on buckle. He could've easily gotten it off- but it has some sort of meaning to him.
The sun rose almost halfway up the sky, allowing light to stream through the old cracked windows. Deja Vu made his way near the door of the church, a cracking sound echoed as he stepped on the dead grass. He could look around and see the shattered glass laying around; glistening from the light that the sun gave. This was Dire territory, smells embraced the place strongly. Deja Vu is a Dire member, but he seeked for more. Much more. He walked around the land, breathing in the air of his surrounding. He wonderd if Wraith was nearby, hoping that she was so she would arrive. He had left something of little notes, marking a tree now and then. When you mark a scent, you can pretty much say anything. He did this dominantly, and obviously he is a subordinate. He did this to show her that he is a challenger.
The male had herd a few things about Wraith, she was a husky mix of some sort. However, there was one major detail of the fea that he herd- that pushy Deja Vu over the edge to challenge. He had herd that she was barren, unable to birth a litter. To the mastiff, that was one of the only uses for a fea, and without it- she was near useless. Now, this was all in his mind; she is not useless, but it's just Deja Vu's beliefs. At last the male mastiff had made his way all the way around the church, marking a scent every so often as a sign of a challenge. Then he leaned back his head and curved his black lips. He let off a low howl, emitting into the air. Similar to a wolf's, it called for Wraith. Challenging her for the position of alpha for Dire.
Miscellaneous: Other Characters are Magic, Sahara, and Rakasha
Other accounts: nope...
OOC Name: CW or anything else you want to call me
Did you used to RP on any other sites?: nope
How long have you been RPing?: Not long
How did you find our site? If from another site, which one? : Google
Character Name: Morag
Gender: Female
Breed: Siberian Husky
Age: 3 years of age
Pups: wants
Mate: I'm going to wait for the right guy
:: INFORMATION ::
Image: upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/3/33/Siberian_Husky_sable.jpg (without the collar)
;D 
Appearance: Morag is a rare Sable color, with icy blue eyes and no collar. she has a small nick in her right ear where she was shot with a shotgun.
Personality: Morag has two sides to her and reveals either side depending on who she is with and how they are treating her. One side of her is gentle and caring, while the other is defensive and aggressive. she is good at solving problems and is very quick minded when it comes to such things. She dislikes fighting but she will if he looses her temper or she absolutely has no choice but to fight to survive. She no longer trusts humans. She is not a prissy dog and is not to be messed with. Hates humans. Read past to find out why. Very competitive when it comes to males. She's somewhat of a flirt.
History: ...Morag had been in the pound for weeks. She was on death row. The day before she was killed so they could make room for more dogs, SHE walked in. She was a short, obese lady with curly red hair, pale skin and green eyes. She smelled of cigarette smoke and alcohol. Morag wrinkled her nose in disgust.
"This is the dog I want!" she told the worker in a shrill, high-pitched voice that hurt Morag's ears. The lady had a thick Southern accent.
"Ok. you won't use her for excessive breeding will you? She is not spayed you know and that would be considered animal abu...." said the worker.
He was interrupted by the lady's annoying voice.
"Oh, no! I would never such a horrible thing to this lovely lady!"
Which of course the fat lady had lied as Morag was about to see and find out for herself. When the lady brought her home, she expected treats and food awaiting her. Instead she was painfully shoved into a crate that was way too small for her. There were crates and dogs everywhere! They were in a where-house type building with little to no ventilation. The place reeked of death, urine, feces, and sickness. The place was filthy and the crates were covered in dry mud and poop.
"Gross! This place is so unclean!" Morag yelped.
There was a Black and white dog in the crate next to her with brown eyes. She guessed that the dog was a Alaskan Malamute. The dog turned around to face Morag. She told her of her past, which was rather a sad and scary one to listen to. Morag asked the dog where she was.
She replied, "You are in a puppy mill. Where our only purpose is to have puppies which, the fat lady sells for profit. Oh, and, by the way, my name is Jenna. What's yours? "
"I'm Morag. Nice to meet you, Jenna."
The all of the dogs in the building, including Jenna, were horribly underweight.
Jenna continued, "She doesn't care about our personal well-being. All she cares about is making money. When you are no longer able to have pups, she takes you outside and shoots you."
Morag gasped.
"I need to get out of here!"
"Yes. A beautiful dog such as yourself shouldn't be here and there is no known way out. In fact, none of us should be here." Jenna replied.
Morag looked into each of the dog's eyes that were confined in the building. All the dogs were either, Huskies, Collies, Greyhounds, Alaskan Malamutes, Labradors, Rottweilers, Dobermans, or Dalmatians. Each of their eyes were dull and their pelts lacked basic grooming and were matted and covered in parasites. The dogs themselves were swollen with pups and a few lacked physical strength. Morag couldn't help but to shutter. She started to think of a plan to free herself and all the dogs in this place as well. She turned to Jenna.
"I have a plan..." she told her the plan and the black and white dog nodded with approval.
Word quickly spread among the mill dogs. That night, Morag got out of here crate and started to free the other dogs. When she was in the act of freeing a Brindle Greyhound, who was the last dog that she needed to free, the fat lady walked in.
"Hey! Get back in your crates! You're all supposed to be making puppies!" the lady ordered. She held a shotgun.
"That's the death gun." Jenna whispered to Morag.
The lady had the gun aimed at Morag. She pulled the trigger.... Morag opened her eyes. Morag felt a searing pain in her ear.
"Am I dead?" wondered Morag out loud
"No. she barely missed you. she was two inches off." Jenna whispered
"I think the bullet hit me in the ear. Besides me, did anyone get hurt?"
"Yes. The bullet ended up hitting a Collie named Nicole in the leg... she is fine. I'll clean the wound one we get out of here."
Morag looked over at the collie who had been hit. She was bleeding, but the leg was still intact. It wasn't bleeding badly.
"That's good. "
The fat lady was distracted by reloading her gun. She was fumbling with the bullets and struggling to put them in the gun.
"Make a break for it!" commanded Morag
All the dogs had a sudden burst of energy and ran out the open door and into the woods. Their Adrenalin was flowing through their veins, making the dogs run faster and faster.
It was storming outside. Thunder cracked and lightning flashed as the lady chased after them, gun in hand. She was yelling while still aiming and shooting at them, bullets whizzing past their ears and over their heads. No other dogs were hurt in the great escape. After what seemed like forever, the group of dogs soon outran her, easily. The horrid woman who always reeked of alcohol and cigarette smoke was too fat to run!
Morag looked back over her shoulder and laughed. What a sight! The lady was a few hundred yards off. She was cussing because the dogs escaped and she had run out of bullets. She threw her gun to the ground and jumped on it.
"Hey, look at Mrs. Fat Butt back there!" Morag laughed.
All the dogs turned around and were soon howling with laughter. The lady had turned around and headed back to her "house." The worn out dogs reached the city. They were all panting and exhausted. Morag fainted out of stress and tiredness.
When she awoke, she was alone on the street. No humans were out at this time of night. It was now drizzling and there was a thick layer of fog. She got to her paws and she wondered about the rest of the dogs and where they were and how they were doing. She vowed to herself that she would find those dogs and form a pack with them someday.
She really cared for them and she wondered when that day would come. She began to miss Jenna. She and Jenna had become best friends in that short period of time.
Morag wondered if Jenna and the other dogs were alive and well.
"I hope that they stuck together." Morag thought.
After endlessly wondering around the streets and allies of the city for five days competing for food and shelter, she found herself here where she is safe from puppy mills, abusive red-haired fat ladies with guns that kill dogs, and competition for food and shelter... As for the fat lady, her scheme was discovered by a undercover ASPCA officer and she got a fine of $1,000,000 and life in jail for animal neglect and abuse. She deserved every part of it!
Relations: Jenna (friend). Morag doesn't know this, but they and the other mill dogs are alive and they are looking for her. Mom: N/A Dad: N/A Siblings: N/A
Others: Picture of Jenna.... www.petsuncaged.com/media/pages/resizes/alaskan-malamute_m_matte.jpg
:: THE ROLE PLAYER ::[/b]
RP example: The night ended only a few hours earlier, the sun had risen past the endless forest and now was slowly making it's way up the sky. The air was humid and warm, around fifty something degrees, and the summer heat would only rise. The clouds only covered parts of the sky on this day, leaving the sun clear and the teal sky showing. If you were at a waterfall, or a mountain, or even a beach this would look beautiful. However, at the forsaken church beautiful was an unknown word. The churches flooring was old wood, moist and molded from rain. Most of the once capivating window's were now shattered and had cob webs on every corner. There were still traces of glass particals scattered along the floor, sharp edges promoting a safety hazzard. The building was old and lopsided, creaking with every breath of wind, and the gravestones outside were half covered by the large willow trees. But wasn't this every Dire's dream?
The Dire pack had been nicely lead by Wraith for a while now, no doubt about it she was a well respected leader and a perfect example of Dire. However, for Deja Vu, he would not be lead by a female ruler. The mastiff mix believes that a male should lead, and a female must only have the duty of chores. Some such as birthing, hunting, and caring for their pups. Deja Vu could even tolerate some feas to protect the pack lands, only the strong ones though. He wasn't like most Dire members, he didn't have an entire lust for murder, or rape. No. He believed that kill all you like- but have a reason. Even with this quality, no dog could ever call him nice. Pups are only useful for one thing, making a pack stronger. For him, Deja Vu will take the strongest male pup out of a litter and train him. In fact, a litter of his was to be born soon- a male pup named Temper.
Love and compassion, those weren't apart of his life. He would make a good leader, that was his goal in life. To lead a pack and grow in size. Soon to take over whichever city they live in. He'd pretty much been working on that since his father took him in and raised him to be one. Deja Vu was then put to the test, humans took him and made him a fighter dog. One day the police caught them, but Deja Vu managed to escape. The male regrets nothing of his past though, to him it only made him stronger. The mastiff would, however, offer one thing to the former alpha. That would be that she could reside as beta if she were to step down or loose. This would be a one time thing only because of her expirence and skill- that is IF he won.
Deja Vu is a large english mastiff, with a little bit of bull mastiff and great dane. His size is between a dane and english mastiff, but the bull has no visible features. He is well built and muscular, large and powerful. He is not the fastest dog around, just normal speed for his breed. Nor the most agile, so you couldn't stick him on a beam and expect him to walk across without falling. Still, he is a natural born fighter what with his past expirence and appearance. His entire coat is black brindle with different shades of brown stripes. Along his neck and chest is a crooked white line, relieving into a splotch at his chest. Deja Vu's eyes are round with a color of orange and brown, showing no mercy and a stern feature. His upper lips are not as droopy as mastiff's or great dane's though- unsure of where he got that, and the male's lips are cursed more a grey color than black. Tight around Deja Vu's neck is a brown and black leather collar, with a click on buckle. He could've easily gotten it off- but it has some sort of meaning to him.
The sun rose almost halfway up the sky, allowing light to stream through the old cracked windows. Deja Vu made his way near the door of the church, a cracking sound echoed as he stepped on the dead grass. He could look around and see the shattered glass laying around; glistening from the light that the sun gave. This was Dire territory, smells embraced the place strongly. Deja Vu is a Dire member, but he seeked for more. Much more. He walked around the land, breathing in the air of his surrounding. He wonderd if Wraith was nearby, hoping that she was so she would arrive. He had left something of little notes, marking a tree now and then. When you mark a scent, you can pretty much say anything. He did this dominantly, and obviously he is a subordinate. He did this to show her that he is a challenger.
The male had herd a few things about Wraith, she was a husky mix of some sort. However, there was one major detail of the fea that he herd- that pushy Deja Vu over the edge to challenge. He had herd that she was barren, unable to birth a litter. To the mastiff, that was one of the only uses for a fea, and without it- she was near useless. Now, this was all in his mind; she is not useless, but it's just Deja Vu's beliefs. At last the male mastiff had made his way all the way around the church, marking a scent every so often as a sign of a challenge. Then he leaned back his head and curved his black lips. He let off a low howl, emitting into the air. Similar to a wolf's, it called for Wraith. Challenging her for the position of alpha for Dire.
Miscellaneous: Other Characters are Magic, Sahara, and Rakasha
Other accounts: nope...
OOC Name: CW or anything else you want to call me
Did you used to RP on any other sites?: nope
How long have you been RPing?: Not long
How did you find our site? If from another site, which one? : Google