bloom beautifully { A Y A M E

[endlessinfinity]

AYAME

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

BIRTH NAME: Ayame (aye-yah-meh).
NICKNAMES: Simply 'Ayame' or on rare occasions, 'Meme'.
GENDER: Femme fatale.
MILESTONE: Two and a half years.
SPECIES: Canine.
BREED: Maned Wolf (Chrysocyon brachyurus).
LOYALTY: Beast.
SEXUALITY: Heterosexual.
POWER: Eletricity; this power was discovered at a young age, where she accidentally shocked a patch of dry foliage, starting a small fire. The blaze began catching and spreading. She was caught up in the mayhem, which is where she charred her skin and developed her phobia of fire. Furthermore, she is now reluctant to call upon this power and often tries to hide it, worried that it may cause harm again.

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

HEIGHT: Forty inches at shoulder.
WEIGHT: Sixty-five pounds.
COAT COLOUR: Her pelt is a reddish hue, with black stockings traveling up her appendages. A whitish tuft of fur can be found on the tip of her tail and a charcoal-tinted mane is distinctively found on the upper portion of her neck.
EYE COLOUR: Deep chocolate occipitals.
DISTINGUISHING MARKS: She received very serious burns as a young pup, but her coat regrew quite well over the scars. Her underbelly has a few defensive scratches, but otherwise she is markless.
OVERALL APPEARANCE: Like the typical body structure of a maned wolf, Ayame’s limbs are very lanky and her stature is very lean. Her appendages allow her to outrun any possible threat and grant her the ability of dodging nearly any attack. Though she is quick on her feet, he lacks a large amount of physical strength. Most of her power comes from bites, which can have crushing force. She is very anal about keeping her pelt clean, and she can sometimes be seen grooming herself. From time to time, she is mocked from this habit, due to some considering grooming oneself to be a feline-like trait. When refracting sunlight, Ayame’s chocolate pools glow an amber tint. She holds her appearance in high regard, considering herself to be a very rare kind. Likewise, she can be boastful about her looks.

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: Solitude, running, darkness, the scent of pine, playing jokes on others.
DISLIKES: Extreme heat, loud noises, stupidity, immature pups, bothersome fools.
STRENGTHS: Speed and agility, cunningness, manipulation, critical thinking.
WEAKNESSES: Restraining her temper, stubbornness, physical confrontations.
DESIRES: To prove her father wrong, and surpass his intelligence and strength. She hopes to have a vital leadership role someday.
SECRETS: Her entire past, basically. She is very secretive by nature. By migrating to a new location such as this, she hoped she could create a new life that is separate from her past.
PHOBIAS: Arsonphobia. Ever since that time of almost losing her life in a forest fire..
OVERALL PERSONALITY: Ayame has been known to have a slight self-infatuation, but not entirely narcissistic. From little on up, she had a cynical out-look on life and was distrustful of nearly everyone. It takes a lot of time to gain her trust, and even once it’s gained, it can be lost in a second. In serious situations, she remains level-headed and is superb at making decisions. She is also quite cunning, which is ironic due to her foxy appearance. However, when her emotions get involved, her actions tend to be rash and reckless, and she rapidly loses focus. Despite preferring seclusion to bustling activity, a part of Ayame craves attention and, more than anything else, approval and acceptance. Her outer façade is often cold, but inside she has a warm heart. In states of vulnerability, when she is by herself, she’ll occasionally dash around playfully, yipping at the birds and acting like a pup. A more devious side of her reveals her capabilities of manipulation and seduction; such tactics can get her out of tough situations, if needed—or if she’s feeling bored and wants to have a little fun.

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

BIRTHPLACE: A distant land, in which she migrated from.
SIRE: Always looked upon in disdain, Ayame was never close to her father. He was head of her clan; an abuser, murderer, rapist, and probably any other grotesque word that could come to mind. His status is unknown, but he is presumably alive, residing in his pack's terra.
DAME: She doesn't know much about her mother, as she was killed shortly after the birth of Ayame and her littermates.
SIBLINGS: All of Ayame's siblings are nameless except for her two: older brother, Kaito, was mortally wounded in a fight with their father, while trying to protect her. Larka was the runt of the litter Ayame was part of; at eight months old, Larka too was killed by their father due to her frailty.
LOVERS: Her heart belongs to no one.
OFFSPRING: Her blood does not flow through any youthful veins.
OTHER: Not at the moment.
HISTORY: Growing up in a luscious forest, Ayame was used to a degree of luxury and security. Due to health complications, her mother passed away a few days after the birth of her final litter. As months went by, older females of the pack cared for her and her siblings. A solid parental figure was missing during her entire youth. Her father, the pack leader, was held in high regard, even though his reputation and demeanor was terrible. He was very sexist, for lack of better terms, and always discriminated against female pack members—they supposedly weren’t as strong, weren’t as smart, and so on. He never allowed a female to rule beside him because he deemed them incompetent. Anyone of weakness was often killed or exiled, under his discretion. Ayame often stood up for Larka, a runt who was part of her little. The two became very close and never left each other’s side. Even to Ayame’s annoyance, Larka gave her the nickname “Meme.” At the peak of 8 months, Ayame awoke to find none other than her father had slaughtered Larka during the night. He had never done anything directly to harm her, but she had always hated him for his behavior—now, it had become a personal matter for her. Enraged, she wished to confront the beast. However, Kaito, who was a two year old drake her father also had sired, intercepted her. He pulled her to the side, speaking to her softly, trying to calm her. Explaining it would do no use to fight against him, he told her she wasn’t alone. From that point forward, the two became nearly inseparable; he even picked up the obnoxious habit of calling her “Meme,” which she often protested against. Months passed—someone like that one fateful night when her sister died, Ayame awoke with an uneasy sensation in her stomach. Going to investigate, she saw to dark figures fighting. Fur flew, yelps pierced the night, and blood stained the sodden floor; when the coast was clear, she crept out of her hiding place and went to asses the damage. Cries of her own ripped through the silence when she saw Kaito, mangled in a bloody mess. In his final moments, he told her to run, run as fast as she could away from this place. "I love you, always remember that. Do great things and make me proud…Meme." With that, he choked out his last breath. Bolting into the darkness, she never looked back and continued running until she collapsed from exhaustion.

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: Internet-wise, endlessinfinity. Endless, Endy, whatever floats your boat.
AGE: Seventeen.
GENDER: Female.
OTHER CHARACTERS: Not at the moment.
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE:

Shoulders cradled her neck and skull in their usual upright position. But today imparticular, they were lowered. Dense plumage remained stiff behind her, dangling between her muscular pistons. Striding forward, her pace barely made a walk. Rump lowered it sit upon the damp ground, the fatale's jowls parted to reveal her pearly dentals. Facing up towards the sky, a melody of lonesome and dismal lyrics poured from her velvets into the atmosphere. Smooth as silk they sounded, even though it was difficult for Vekea to even make any sort of call. No one would be listening, no one would care. Let me know if one day I actually start to matter.. she whispered under her breath, call echoing a few beats more as it dispersed. That statement wasn't directed to anyone impartiicular -- at least she thought so. Maybe it was; no one would ever really know for a fact. Aromas of another maiden stung the lining of her sensitive nasal passages; the scent seemed to be everywhere, over everything. She had fondly remembered a baron named Kai. They hadn't had too many encounters, but sometime just seemed to click -- in her mind, away. A lucky guess was that he already found his one and only, the love of his life, whatever you want to call it. Vekea wasn't about to let jealousy join her, even though she wished it would. Never was she the jealous type, so why begin now? She would just keep on living life, and give that famous fake smile the world knew too well.

[Castaway]

love the character! feel free to go roleplay now. <3 have fun, endless!

[/size][/justify]