MERCY.

[Nymph ♥]

MERCY

I'm gonna make you bend and break;
the basics. the basics. the basics. the basics. the basics. the basics.

BIRTH NAME: Mercy.
NICKNAMES: Just Mercy, if you even learn that much.
GENDER: Female.
MILESTONE: Three and a half years of age.
SPECIES: Canine.
BREED: Gray Wolf (canis lupus).
LOYALTY: Savage.
SEXUALITY: Asexual.
POWER: Poison.

say a prayer but let the good times roll;
the looks. the looks. the looks. the looks. the looks. the looks.

HEIGHT: 32 inches.
WEIGHT: 78 lbs.
COAT COLOUR: Mercy's body is covered in thick, well-kept charcoal waves; an offset sort of color that is midway between black and gray. Lighter shades sweep up to consume her face, spreading from her stomach and chest, and darkening against along her spinal cord and hind. Fur is naturally fluffier around vital areas, delivering extra protection and warmth.
EYE COLOUR: Mercy's eyes are large, round, and the utmost shade of ruby. They are distinctive and alluring, very vivid in coloration, and contrast to the hues of her anatomy almost coincidentally. It would seem as if the burning fires of hell were reflected within her gaze, withholding more emotion then rightfully assumed.
DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Her body is littered with marks from previous battles, and though most are hidden under regrown fur, there are several that are distinct. Three long scars trail across her back left haunch, and her ankles are covered in dozens of the same petite scratches, often from living in harsh terrains.
OVERALL APPEARANCE: Lean, agile; surely a woman built to fit the criteria of any man's desires. Her body is coated in smooth, luscious waves of soots, flawless in their appeal and always free of debris and dirt. Hellbent eyes are perhaps her more startling feature, as they are vivid and daunting against her monotone complexion. She is pretty, in some sense, but her corrupted behavior seems to wash away any kind of allure that one might have for her. There is a darkness that surrounds her like the plague - thick and mocking - whilst a sarcastic grin is often sewn to warp her face. She moves with speed and precision, lean muscles wrapping around her tensions and scars covering her body to tell stories of her past.

in case god doesn't show, let the good times roll;
the mind. the mind. the mind. the mind. the mind. the mind. the mind.

LIKES: Silence, power, chaos, solitude, reeking havoc, respect.
DISLIKES: Stupidity, large groups, overly warm weather, obnoxiousness, Immortals.
STRENGTHS: Mercy is a master of illusion, and can take up any role in he acting world to get what she desires. She is good at masking her anger or annoyance, and her lean body and agile steps makes her a skilled opponent.
WEAKNESSES: Unfortunately Mercy is hot-headed, and gets frustrated very easily, which often causes her to act out in violence. She has never been a strong swimmer, either.
DESIRES: Mercy wishes to one day get back at the Immortals for banishing them all from Lykengard, and also to find her son.
SECRETS: As a child she was undoubtedly loyal to the Immortals, and only turned to the Savages after society was banished from Lykengard. At that point, Mercy believed that the Immortals had lost hope in their kind, and for that Mercy felt abandoned and hurt.
PHOBIAS: Death and the fact that she might never get her chance at revenge and redemption or to reunite with Nikolas.
OVERALL PERSONALITY: Mercy is quite a simple creature when you come to think of it. She is cold and mischievous -- a woman whom surely must have risen from the very depths of hell. Since banishment she has grown unloyal and untrustworthy, and rather selfish in her efforts to corrupt the hope of others. Why did they hang onto something that obviously wasn't there? The Immortals didn't want them in Lykengard. If they had truly cared, they would have just thrown out the Savages -- but now? Beasts like Mercy were starting to turn dark and vicious. Mercy has grown to be an excellent persuader, and brutally honest when she has to be in hopes of saving others from disappointment. Her morals are believed to be in the right place, but she holds no sympathy for anyone anymore; join the Savages, or be killed off. If there is one thing she still has hope in, however, it is her son. He was one the apple of her eye, and the only piece of joy left in her world, and she wastes everyday trying to bring them back together.

and I want these words to make things right;
the history. the history. the history. the history.

BIRTHPLACE: Mercy was born within Pyraeus, close to Lykengard.
SIRE: Locus was the donor of Mercy's existence, but he has long been dead by the hands of another Savage.
DAME: Seraph was the woman to give birth to Mercy, but she has long been dead by the hands of another Savage..
SIBLINGS: Mercy was born into a litter of four children, but all but herself were stillborn.
LOVERS: Mercy feels no sort of sexual attraction whatsoever.
OFFSPRING: Mercy has one son - Nikolas - but they were separated long ago and she knows not of his whereabouts.
HISTORY: Being born with four stillborn siblings took its toll on you early in life; why me? Was I born to do something special? Raised surrounded in a healthy environment, you could say Mercy was happy; she was filled with bountifulness compassion and respect for the world around her. She loved life and life loved her; she was a simple joy to be around, and attracted many friends and companions during her first two years of life.

Once she reached maturity, tragic stuck and she was impregnated by a rogue male, and would later give birth to a single son; the other two stillborn like Mercy's own siblings had been. She loved him with every ounce of her being, but by then the world around her had started to change. Wolves were growing heartless and greedy, and only months after Nikolas was born were the wolves and creatures of Pyraeus banished from Lykengard. With that reign of abandonment and anger towards the Immortals starting to take over Mercy's being, she feared that she was no longer suitable to care for Nikolas at such an important stage in his life. He was handed off to Locus and Seraph, trusting that they could properly help him grow and develop, while Mercy would compose herself.

She never did go back for Nikolas, for the Savages had corrupted her soul and made her cold and conniving, but she always longed to see his face again, just once. On her travels she had the misfortune to cross paths with her parents .. on their deathbed. Though Nikolas' own corpse was nowhere in sight, she feared that her own son - the last ray of sunshine within a world of storms - had suffered the same fate as they. To this very day, she still looks for him, but approaches life with a much more morbid manner, heart blackened and anger overruling all other emotions.

but it's the wrongs that make the truth come to life;
about me. about me. about me. about me. about me. about me. about me.

NAME: Nymph.
AGE: 14.
GENDER: It. She! c:
OTHER CHARACTERS: Nada.
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE:

Night had long ago greeted the beach's atmosphere, dispersing the warm rays of daytime sun and sending a more chilly atmosphere across Paradise Island. Most had already retreated back to their homes to hibernate the night and protect themselves from night's startling presence -- but not Morfin. Pallid sweetheart had resided on this whimsical shoreline for most of the day, basking in the beauty such a simple place held. She had watched in pure awe as the colorful collection of birds made their way around, ranging from all colors of the rainbow. Blue, green, red, violet, yellow; the collection of flocking creatures seemed to never end! However now that they had all resumed to nesting, nothing but features littered the ground, leaving curious souls (such as Morfin) to pick them up and girlishly intertwine them within their fur, as some sort of decoration. How cute!

Innocent babe placed herself close to the ocean's depths, the hungry tide streaking upwards to brush against awaiting paws, but not wetting anything more then her ankles. The thick, inviting scent tickled her nostrils, leaving the shipwrecked siren to bask not only in that glory, but that of the night sky. Obviously, this was a continuous fad for Seren Llwyd members, but wasn't astronomy just a magnificent thing? Any who could not realize the untold wonders was surely blind to any sort of imagination or creativity! Each twinkling star seemed to shine brighter then the last, the moon most beautiful of all as it sat dead center within the sea of sparkling orbs. The natural satellite let it's vivid light cascade down toward the world of mere mortals, bringing brightness to the areas not covered by vegetation; which meant that Morfin herself was clouded in a cloak of moonlight, no matter how cliche such a thing sounded.

A sigh would bellow from her frail vocals, body coiling as she bent down to start ridding the rainbow of features from her tail, where they had been carefully tied together with the strands of fur. She couldn't return home without awkward judgement from her other pack mates, so for now her costume would have to continue on as a secret. As she work and fuddled over her own business, there was an oddity that seemed to stay intact; her poise, for shoulders were rolled back, perfectly in place and her whimsical, alluring aura was lively and as present as ever. At least that was one thing Morfin never failed in. The wrath of any woman had long been tucked away, and had not been exposed since the scuffle with her own family. She hoped, as well, that that had been the last time. There was something about anger and dispute that seemed wrong to her, and for the sake of her sanity, could probably not endure another dosage.

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[Castaway]