Characters: The Results of Procrastination
May 1, 2015 12:57:05 GMT -5
Post by Miguen on May 1, 2015 12:57:05 GMT -5
Hi there! As someone who enjoys writing stories or creating universes for myself, but often doesn't have the stamina to see characters to the very end, I've thought up some characters in the free time I joyously make so I can avoid doing homework and contemplating my responsibilities. I'd really like to hear how I could improve on some of the more-recently created ones, so feel free to dispense feedback!
Physical Description: Has an auburn, quite vivid, pelt. Rather small build and slight frame, which gives her an advantage in speed, though less so in intimidation and brute force. She is relatively – perhaps exceedingly – un-extraordinary, with few distinguishing markings or additional features.
Personality: As with her physical appearance, Kivuli is not a wolf that sticks out particularly in one’s mind after brief interaction. A quiet persona who believes in being seen and not heard, Kivuli is like to keep her thoughts to herself and not voice her opinions often. She leaves that task and privilege for the more outstandish wolves. With a cold exterior and often emotionless expressions, she is not an easy wolf to interpret and her frequent, long-stretching bouts of silence may be incorrectly judged as evidence of dim wits. Kivuli also has a strange condition, in that she does not feel emotions as acutely as most. Her elation was a brief spark and anger a briefer one still.
Background: When Kivuli left her birth-pack, she was not spurred by strong emotions, but rather the lack of them. She was tiring of her deadened emotions, and severed the ties binding her to her pack, since her heart couldn't possibly be even number than it already was. Now, she is taking gradual steps to be able to snap irately one moment and then laugh doggedly the next.
On the other hand, shaded in alternating tones of silver, grey and black, Tayika has a sleek, dense coat. He is tall and lithe, and moves with the grace and speed of a predator in its element. Stronger than he seems at first glance, Tayika has sharp canines concealed behind his lips that he will not hesitate to snap at the first wolf to cross his self-enforced boundaries. His eyes are a glaring yellow, always alert and rarely closed. Built for nimbleness, Tayika lunges like a striking adder, and often leaves his adversaries before they realise they are bleeding.
Personalities: Sodaris is a wolf of firm resolve. He will see any task to completion, if put to it. He has a strong sense of honour and integrity, and pulls his weight. He strongly believes in pragmatically contributing to a greater good – often in the form of a pack, or family.
At the same time, this stiff soldier of a wolf is something of a giver, prone to dedicating himself to those who save him. When not on duty, Sodaris is relaxed and laidback. Those he has previously met have deemed him likable, if a little fixed in his ways. He cares selflessly, is gentle with kith and kin, and flies off the handle terribly when threatened. But his temper is most ferocious when the ones he loves are exposed to danger of any kind, for he finds it his responsibility to see to their wellbeing, and Sodaris has never been good at saying goodbye.
Insufferable is how every wolf finds Tayika. He often laments he was born into the most placid pack in existence, a herd of cattle masquerading in wolfskin. His pack often laments they were cursed with this lanky oddity. He lingers on the fringes of his pack. He loves to play games, but gambolling in the grass does not hold appeal for Tayika. He would toy with the pack wolves’ thoughts and feelings, but he already did that over his first two years, and now none of the wolves he hasn’t yet ruined will come near him, put off by his disastrous track record. Intelligent in his own way, and set apart by his strange habits and ill manners, Tayika couldn’t care less what his pack thinks of him. (After all, they know well what he thinks of them – there are only so many times one can make insinuations at another’s vapidity before the opposite party begins to catch on.) Selfish, and self-assured to the point of arrogance, Tayika is often surprised at how dull the rest of the world is. He seeks to be thrilled, to be surprised.
Boredom is his first enemy, and loneliness one that did not used to exist.
Their Story: Sodaris crossed into pack territory as a dispersal wolf, and was discovered by Tayika, who'd wondered away from the pack to investigate the stranger's scent. Their encounter was cut short when the proper guard of honour comprising of the alpha and his welcome wagon arrived to intercept Sodaris. When they properly met, as members of the same pack, Sodaris struck Tayika as earnest, genuine and kind-spirited. Sodaris' self-proclamation that he was a boring persona intrigued Tayika at once, who found himself growing increasingly invested in Sodaris, without meaning to.
In no more than six months, Tayika had Sodaris as a fast friend and companion. Whilst most wolves are barely able to sit beside Tayika without falling victim to violent impulses to throttle him, Sodaris is able to appreciate - or at the very least put up with - Tayika's cutting witticism and brash honesty, although the darker wolf's morbid humour continues to pull Sodaris' mouth agape at times. Selfless and giving with his care, amicable Sodaris complements Tayika, whose selfishness and egoism is unparalleled. Unwittingly, Tayika himself became loyal to the small wolf. He found that he was willing to defend Sodaris' name, and preferred very much to keep Sodaris to himself. This became especially apparent when a female pack member presented Sodaris with a token of her affection, and Tayika grew rather spiteful and unmanageable. Sodaris may find this bothersome, but he is patient and firm when Tayika develops one of his moods. He always is.
Miguen
The land was made for all to share, and none to keep.
The land was made for all to share, and none to keep.
Gender: Female
Age: 3 years
Physical Description: Has a shocking ginger pelt. Her shoulders are narrow and her limbs, angular and bony. No distinctive markings.Personality: Miguen has fire in her coat, and perhaps more so in her tongue. She is a caustic character, who is never straightforward with her intentions but chooses instead to slyly imply what she means to say, hoping to misdirect her audience and leave them stumbling the wrong way whilst she swiftly canters off to gain a head-start. She detests the spotlight, and slinks in the shadows in situations where she has no upper-hand. Downright shameless in getting what she wills, she is even more ruthless when it comes to survival.
Background: She left her pack simply because she was growing restless and listless, smothered by the monotony of her life after being trapped in the same territory for three years. Not to mention, her cutting remarks and lack of political correctness were making everyone terse around her, and Miguen figured she'd best first turn tail and run before the pack snapped at her in aggravation.
Background: She left her pack simply because she was growing restless and listless, smothered by the monotony of her life after being trapped in the same territory for three years. Not to mention, her cutting remarks and lack of political correctness were making everyone terse around her, and Miguen figured she'd best first turn tail and run before the pack snapped at her in aggravation.
Kivuli
Worry was a furrow of the brow, fear but a twitch.
Worry was a furrow of the brow, fear but a twitch.
Gender: Female
Age: 3 years
Physical Description: Has an auburn, quite vivid, pelt. Rather small build and slight frame, which gives her an advantage in speed, though less so in intimidation and brute force. She is relatively – perhaps exceedingly – un-extraordinary, with few distinguishing markings or additional features.
Personality: As with her physical appearance, Kivuli is not a wolf that sticks out particularly in one’s mind after brief interaction. A quiet persona who believes in being seen and not heard, Kivuli is like to keep her thoughts to herself and not voice her opinions often. She leaves that task and privilege for the more outstandish wolves. With a cold exterior and often emotionless expressions, she is not an easy wolf to interpret and her frequent, long-stretching bouts of silence may be incorrectly judged as evidence of dim wits. Kivuli also has a strange condition, in that she does not feel emotions as acutely as most. Her elation was a brief spark and anger a briefer one still.
Background: When Kivuli left her birth-pack, she was not spurred by strong emotions, but rather the lack of them. She was tiring of her deadened emotions, and severed the ties binding her to her pack, since her heart couldn't possibly be even number than it already was. Now, she is taking gradual steps to be able to snap irately one moment and then laugh doggedly the next.
Sodaris and Tayika
Redeem Me Does His Friendship
Redeem Me Does His Friendship
Genders: Male
Ages: 4 years -- 4.5 years
Breeds: Himalayan wolf -- Mexican grey wolf
Physical Descriptions: Sodaris is primarily beige and sandy-brown, with one slick of black from the top of his head, down his spine, and down his tail. His light-coloured coat is short and tidy, and gives the impression of being routinely clipped, though it is scarcely possible. His eyes are a bright blue, and almost always sparkling. He is compactly-built, and on the small side, although rather strong and an excellent fighter. Ages: 4 years -- 4.5 years
Breeds: Himalayan wolf -- Mexican grey wolf
On the other hand, shaded in alternating tones of silver, grey and black, Tayika has a sleek, dense coat. He is tall and lithe, and moves with the grace and speed of a predator in its element. Stronger than he seems at first glance, Tayika has sharp canines concealed behind his lips that he will not hesitate to snap at the first wolf to cross his self-enforced boundaries. His eyes are a glaring yellow, always alert and rarely closed. Built for nimbleness, Tayika lunges like a striking adder, and often leaves his adversaries before they realise they are bleeding.
Personalities: Sodaris is a wolf of firm resolve. He will see any task to completion, if put to it. He has a strong sense of honour and integrity, and pulls his weight. He strongly believes in pragmatically contributing to a greater good – often in the form of a pack, or family.
At the same time, this stiff soldier of a wolf is something of a giver, prone to dedicating himself to those who save him. When not on duty, Sodaris is relaxed and laidback. Those he has previously met have deemed him likable, if a little fixed in his ways. He cares selflessly, is gentle with kith and kin, and flies off the handle terribly when threatened. But his temper is most ferocious when the ones he loves are exposed to danger of any kind, for he finds it his responsibility to see to their wellbeing, and Sodaris has never been good at saying goodbye.
Insufferable is how every wolf finds Tayika. He often laments he was born into the most placid pack in existence, a herd of cattle masquerading in wolfskin. His pack often laments they were cursed with this lanky oddity. He lingers on the fringes of his pack. He loves to play games, but gambolling in the grass does not hold appeal for Tayika. He would toy with the pack wolves’ thoughts and feelings, but he already did that over his first two years, and now none of the wolves he hasn’t yet ruined will come near him, put off by his disastrous track record. Intelligent in his own way, and set apart by his strange habits and ill manners, Tayika couldn’t care less what his pack thinks of him. (After all, they know well what he thinks of them – there are only so many times one can make insinuations at another’s vapidity before the opposite party begins to catch on.) Selfish, and self-assured to the point of arrogance, Tayika is often surprised at how dull the rest of the world is. He seeks to be thrilled, to be surprised.
Boredom is his first enemy, and loneliness one that did not used to exist.
Their Story: Sodaris crossed into pack territory as a dispersal wolf, and was discovered by Tayika, who'd wondered away from the pack to investigate the stranger's scent. Their encounter was cut short when the proper guard of honour comprising of the alpha and his welcome wagon arrived to intercept Sodaris. When they properly met, as members of the same pack, Sodaris struck Tayika as earnest, genuine and kind-spirited. Sodaris' self-proclamation that he was a boring persona intrigued Tayika at once, who found himself growing increasingly invested in Sodaris, without meaning to.
In no more than six months, Tayika had Sodaris as a fast friend and companion. Whilst most wolves are barely able to sit beside Tayika without falling victim to violent impulses to throttle him, Sodaris is able to appreciate - or at the very least put up with - Tayika's cutting witticism and brash honesty, although the darker wolf's morbid humour continues to pull Sodaris' mouth agape at times. Selfless and giving with his care, amicable Sodaris complements Tayika, whose selfishness and egoism is unparalleled. Unwittingly, Tayika himself became loyal to the small wolf. He found that he was willing to defend Sodaris' name, and preferred very much to keep Sodaris to himself. This became especially apparent when a female pack member presented Sodaris with a token of her affection, and Tayika grew rather spiteful and unmanageable. Sodaris may find this bothersome, but he is patient and firm when Tayika develops one of his moods. He always is.
{Additional Notes}
Sodaris and Tayika are two of my favourite characters at the moment, because their relationship is just so dynamic. I've written short stories about them because it was so complicated to convey just how exasperating Tayika is, or just how dangerously possessive Tayika can get with Sodaris, without examples or incidences to put flesh on what I mean. This isn't even an additional note to be honest. It's just me trying to justify why Sodaris and Tayika's part was so long, using my own obsession with their friendship.
Sodaris and Tayika are two of my favourite characters at the moment, because their relationship is just so dynamic. I've written short stories about them because it was so complicated to convey just how exasperating Tayika is, or just how dangerously possessive Tayika can get with Sodaris, without examples or incidences to put flesh on what I mean. This isn't even an additional note to be honest. It's just me trying to justify why Sodaris and Tayika's part was so long, using my own obsession with their friendship.
Kymmen
Pray do not ask that Kymmen be himself.
Gender: Male
Age: 2 years
Breed: Grey wolf
Pray do not ask that Kymmen be himself.
Gender: Male
Age: 2 years
Breed: Grey wolf
Physical Description: Darkly-coloured pelt, with piercing ochre eyes. Light grey markings above his eyes. His haunches are riddled with scars. One eye has a scratch over it. His underside is silver. His fur is scraggly, unkempt and overgrown.
Personality: Kymmen lacks a sense of self. He is what you might call fluid, adapting and conforming himself to another’s expectations, dreams, fears and desires. He is still mastering the art of it, and is likely to make a mistake now and then, so that his intended realises he has only ever worn a mask, and his exploits are terminated. He does not judge, for he has no fixed moral code that he follows, choosing instead to emulate whatever values he sees other yearn for. Shameless with his exploits, daring in his lifelong performance, he knows and craves no other way to live.
Kymmen could be your best friend. He could be the enemy you have to hold dear. He could be your mentor, guiding you to the deepest pits of hell, or to spiritual Nirvana. He could be your sibling, sagely dispensing an elder's advise. He could be the lover you present to kith and kin with pride. He could adore you, smother you with his worshipping. He could be at once distant and enigmatic, showing you glimpses of his interior just enough that you linger, pining quietly to know how unredeemable his soul truly is, always on the ready to prove to him that he is not as horrid and damned as he seems to think. No matter what, however, Kymmen will always craft himself into someone you wish to keep by you.
Backstory: Kymmen spent two years raised by soldiers trudging through the forest. As men of war, they carried with them the ghosts and memories of people lost, and the scent of death followed wherever they trekked. When they found Kymmen, a dishevelled young wolf bony with malnourishment, they were thinking of the compunction that would otherwise haunt them if they allowed another life form to see Death’s rattling gate so early.
Kymmen was impressionable. He learnt to walk on a leash, and at the heels of men. He was taught not to snap at the hand which feeds, lest it withdraw hastily, never to reach out again. The humans taught him to approach at their call, even if for a reprimand. For their amusement Kymmen would chase rabbits they set loose from copper-wire cages. Gathered around a fire they would watch Kymmen lunge for the defenceless things. He remembers vividly that, whilst they chortled with raucous spirit, he would hear the snaps of fragile skeletons breaking beneath his paws.
One day, when he was irritable and possibly ill, Kymmen allowed his instincts to override all else. Though the soldiers carried guns and rifles, that day, Kymmen was the only one to pad away from the camp, the blood that stained pelt and teeth not his own.
Personality: Kymmen lacks a sense of self. He is what you might call fluid, adapting and conforming himself to another’s expectations, dreams, fears and desires. He is still mastering the art of it, and is likely to make a mistake now and then, so that his intended realises he has only ever worn a mask, and his exploits are terminated. He does not judge, for he has no fixed moral code that he follows, choosing instead to emulate whatever values he sees other yearn for. Shameless with his exploits, daring in his lifelong performance, he knows and craves no other way to live.
Kymmen could be your best friend. He could be the enemy you have to hold dear. He could be your mentor, guiding you to the deepest pits of hell, or to spiritual Nirvana. He could be your sibling, sagely dispensing an elder's advise. He could be the lover you present to kith and kin with pride. He could adore you, smother you with his worshipping. He could be at once distant and enigmatic, showing you glimpses of his interior just enough that you linger, pining quietly to know how unredeemable his soul truly is, always on the ready to prove to him that he is not as horrid and damned as he seems to think. No matter what, however, Kymmen will always craft himself into someone you wish to keep by you.
Backstory: Kymmen spent two years raised by soldiers trudging through the forest. As men of war, they carried with them the ghosts and memories of people lost, and the scent of death followed wherever they trekked. When they found Kymmen, a dishevelled young wolf bony with malnourishment, they were thinking of the compunction that would otherwise haunt them if they allowed another life form to see Death’s rattling gate so early.
Kymmen was impressionable. He learnt to walk on a leash, and at the heels of men. He was taught not to snap at the hand which feeds, lest it withdraw hastily, never to reach out again. The humans taught him to approach at their call, even if for a reprimand. For their amusement Kymmen would chase rabbits they set loose from copper-wire cages. Gathered around a fire they would watch Kymmen lunge for the defenceless things. He remembers vividly that, whilst they chortled with raucous spirit, he would hear the snaps of fragile skeletons breaking beneath his paws.
One day, when he was irritable and possibly ill, Kymmen allowed his instincts to override all else. Though the soldiers carried guns and rifles, that day, Kymmen was the only one to pad away from the camp, the blood that stained pelt and teeth not his own.
“It’s a milk-tale, I’ve heard, for mothers to tell their suckling pups: be stolen away by a human, and you shan’t ever return to the pack. You’ll spend the rest of your days forgetting what it is to be a wolf. That is, if the humans don’t skin you first, and roast your body over the crackling flames they can strike with their bare hands, the smell of your spitting fat making them salivate.
“That’s not how it is at all. I was neither skinned nor killed; here I stand now. And you never forget. You may learn new tricks, little games that keep the men in stitches guffawing, but always you remember what you lost, what was taken away from you. The instincts lie beneath, hidden by layer and layer of learnt humanised behaviour. One day, you will have learnt enough, and something will have to give. Something will have to overflow, and spill, and scald all who stand in your path, and you’ll learn that you never did forget your instincts to kill after all.”
If you've survived this far, I applaud your stamina. I cannot believe how long-winded that was. But if you would be so kind, please do leave your opinions, and what you think about these characters. It'd mean very much to me if I could develop them further! Thank you!
“That’s not how it is at all. I was neither skinned nor killed; here I stand now. And you never forget. You may learn new tricks, little games that keep the men in stitches guffawing, but always you remember what you lost, what was taken away from you. The instincts lie beneath, hidden by layer and layer of learnt humanised behaviour. One day, you will have learnt enough, and something will have to give. Something will have to overflow, and spill, and scald all who stand in your path, and you’ll learn that you never did forget your instincts to kill after all.”
{Additional Notes}
I believe that this might be one of the more unrealistic backstories I've written: a wolf, being raised in semi-captivity by soldier-men trekking whilst war was waged on their land.
When I was conceiving Kymmen's character, I wondered how a wolf would learn to wear facades for the sake of creating the illusion of diplomatic – sometimes even seemingly affectionate – relations. I wondered how a wolf would learn to con, in such a way that his victim goes along willingly for the ride. I wondered how a wolf could learn such human tricks, and not have been exposed to human behaviour. And that was how humans came to be thrown into the mix. They instructed Kymmen in the art of bending himself to the wills of others for self-gratification. I supposed that the promise of food or treats was a small price to pay for Kymmen to play-act as the dog the soldiers envisioned him to be, and was what catalysed Kymmen's loss of his self.
I wasn't sure how to make Kymmen survive in the wild after slaughtering the soldiers (again, another painfully unrealistic twist), so I balanced his story precariously on the self-initiated theory that wolves never lose their instincts, but simply bury them under heaps of learnt behaviour through domestication. And perhaps why Kymmen preserved his instincts so well was because the soldiers were camping in the forest, and he never left the wild.
I believe that this might be one of the more unrealistic backstories I've written: a wolf, being raised in semi-captivity by soldier-men trekking whilst war was waged on their land.
When I was conceiving Kymmen's character, I wondered how a wolf would learn to wear facades for the sake of creating the illusion of diplomatic – sometimes even seemingly affectionate – relations. I wondered how a wolf would learn to con, in such a way that his victim goes along willingly for the ride. I wondered how a wolf could learn such human tricks, and not have been exposed to human behaviour. And that was how humans came to be thrown into the mix. They instructed Kymmen in the art of bending himself to the wills of others for self-gratification. I supposed that the promise of food or treats was a small price to pay for Kymmen to play-act as the dog the soldiers envisioned him to be, and was what catalysed Kymmen's loss of his self.
I wasn't sure how to make Kymmen survive in the wild after slaughtering the soldiers (again, another painfully unrealistic twist), so I balanced his story precariously on the self-initiated theory that wolves never lose their instincts, but simply bury them under heaps of learnt behaviour through domestication. And perhaps why Kymmen preserved his instincts so well was because the soldiers were camping in the forest, and he never left the wild.
If you've survived this far, I applaud your stamina. I cannot believe how long-winded that was. But if you would be so kind, please do leave your opinions, and what you think about these characters. It'd mean very much to me if I could develop them further! Thank you!
My DeviantART 
