We all bite.

[Socks]

i205.photobucket.com/albums/bb134/K-9_Socks/l_e67c8c8d3e03d87c14d1f12e0a797114.jpg
fc04.deviantart.com/fs15/f/2007/096/7/0/love_tap_by_elizabeth98932.jpg


Dog Breed: Red Doberman

Name: Marron

Gender: bitch

Alliance: Dark

Age: Two winters

Personality: I used to be a sweetheart. Long ago, that is. Now that trait is dusted inside of me, buried under layers of hatred. Kindness is never revealed from me, unless it is coaxed out but otherwise I am just a bitch. I give no remorse and I think over situations before I throw myself at them, but if a fight breaks out I’m not one to back down. Sure, I’ve lost many but you learn from experience, and without experience you’re just a loser anyway.
I carry more intellect then the average Doberman, and I’m by far the smartest dog you could come across. Over the years of being replaced by a stupid baby a monster thrived inside of me that I had no clue was there. The lust to destroy, as I was taught, fed it along with being deprived from the affection I was shown before. I don’t regret my decisions, I never do but being beat by the only one I respected wounded me, and now I don’t trust anyone easily anymore, and if you wish you can say that I am solemnly shy. Now, about those brutes. I was close to being bred to another Doberman, but his owners fixed him without a second thought.
I believed that I was in love once when I was training alongside other dogs, but he turned to be a traitor so I haven’t cared much about love. Love. Such a strong word, but just because someone tell you that they love you doesn’t mean that its true. I’ve learned that the hard way. Hrmm…ever since I had left that hellhole of a shelter, I’ve been nurturing my internal wounds and sorrow, learning how to control the emotions and push them aside.
Since I did agility, my lithe, muscular frame moves with grace, so I am swiftly tricky. I’m fast too. You can see me one moment, but then turn around and find the air empty. Also I must say that my sweet expressions can fool, because under my pretty little face there is a scheming mind plotting courses and my next murders, and my beautiful bodice is just an invitation to death itself.

History: I was bred specifically for police labor; to protect and demolish. I wasn’t given the confines and I did as I wished. I was educated with body signals, agility, and the best thing was the command to attack. When I was younger, I was given rounds of shots to keep distemper at bay, along with a disease that puppies could catch easily. I was an intelligent dog, so most of the time I was monitored closely by the vet, doing various tasks for her like finding a square cube among sphere ones. When I received every shot, I was another healthy, happy dog who was an awe to see and a sweetie to know. I bonded with my handler, the only human I treasured, and the only one I was supposed to protect. Though, when he brought me home everything changed.
His wife spoiled me rotten with plenty of toys, their gentle touches and strokes. They resided in a cabin located in a wooded area and when I wasn’t on duty I preferred to keep in touch with the wildlife by wandering myself. My handler also hunted, so I observed his work and placed the lessons into my own life, retrieving fallen birds and hunting mammals. You could say that I lived a lavish life with humans that cared for me. Once their pup came, I was torn. The daily walks stopped, my toys were thrown out, and worst of all I only got attention when I got into trouble. I loathed the baby, and when both of the humans were out of the room I dragged it off the couch and glared into its beady eyes. It tugged at my ears and squealed with delight, though it didn’t prevent me from murdering it, hushing its cries with a silent crack.
After that I was muzzled to stop me from snapping, then severely abused.
It happened several times a day actually, and soon enough my bodice grew immune to the beatings so they didn’t bother me much anymore. All that I once knew was snatched away from under my paws though, and I found myself lying on cold cement behind a wired door, with a sign that clearly interpreted aggressive. With a bruised spirit I lifted my skull up to every human that paused by my cage, shaking his or her head in dismay and moving on. The consistent barking of other dogs, kids shouting and croaking of rusty wired doors, drowned my whines. I was a murderer, and a proud one, too. My hearts warm tenderness was booted out and replaced with such hatred and defiance that slowly I thought I was going insane. The manager of the shelter had to feed me with a long stick that gripped my bowl with the musty smelling rations.
There for I didn’t eat it, and when my door was opened by a stupid worker, I rushed out lunging at the throat of the guy and killing several others who stood dimwittedly. Why they didn’t put me asleep before, I wasn’t certain. All that I knew now was that after I escaped from the prison, the humans started to drop like flies, but who was I to care? I was free, free to roam and kill as I pleased. Finding my paws padding against these lands, I decided that I was to find a home where I belonged, and maybe even a mate. That is if one brute can prove that they are not all the same. Though, I don’t just want to be a pot to grow puppies in, I want to be....adored.

[Socks]

Dog Breed: Australian Cattle Dog

Name: Stardust

Gender: Vixen

Alliance: Light

Age: 3

Personality: Play? I love playing. Always have. What will the game be today? Hide and seek or maybe a friendly game of tag? How’ bout a nap? I’m sweeter then any dessert you could stumble on and I’m a lover; not a fighter. Sure I’ve been picked on and taunted because I wouldn’t fight though I excel at hunting instead. Because of my breed, I have a tendency to herd and stalk things, even other canines if it came to it but I can also screen over every emotion I have with a blank expression. I’m the type of vex to smile even if my heart is broken, or laugh at the stupidest of jokes. I'm more of the tomboyish type, not really too flirty or 'romantic' though I know a few things. I'm also more into hanging with the brutes then other vixens, though some have managed to make it to my liking. I can be slightly gullible when I’m told some things, though I’m not the dimmest dog on the block. Even if I have my moments. I have my ups and downs, rights to wrongs, and of course the undying ignorance of being deprived from certain things. I like to question a lot; of course I know when the time is right. Actually, I’m pretty calm though I have been overly happy before, many times really. Why is it also that I am so understanding, yet everyone around me points fingers-err paws at me? I’ve been labeled irksome several times, for canines haven’t taken the time to understand me. I have times when I feel useless to the world, and suicidal thoughts have accrued. All I want is to have a friend who won’t turn behind my back or a loyal brute. Will you accept my bubbly personality or will you label me like the rest of them?

History: I was bullied quite frequently as a pup, by my older brother and sister. I was the runt, indeed though I understood and matured faster then my siblings. My mom was a happy vex, always carrying a smile though many a times she was dreadfully heartbroken. The thing is about my mother….I looked just like her. My two siblings were bluish in color, while my mother and I were reddish-bluish-speckled-ish with unique orbs. I believed that my mother favored me among the litter, simply because she could tell me how she felt and I would do anything to make her feel better. My father, on the other hand, never cared much about my mother or her pups. He ‘loved’ her at first, though when the pups came he just…left. He left. Without even a ‘good-bye,’ or ‘thanks for bearing my kids.’ I’m sure that’s what had left a hole in my mother’s heart. But then again, she had us. Our small family of four. Despite the sibling rivalry, we actually got along pretty well when we got older. Oh yeah, I almost forgot. We lived in the backyard of a human who didn’t care much for us. We were pinned inside of a wired cage, though it was quite roomy. Of course he cared just enough to take us to the vet though, for our rounds of shots. He feed us too, though it was affection that he never provided. We were just...dogs to him, unlike most familys who'd spoil their pup rotten. When we were old enough, all of us climbed the fenced cage and picked different ways. So, here I am, on this foreign land, looking for anybody to take me in.

[Socks]

I'm not the Guardian you once knew...

i220.photobucket.com/albums/dd310/emaera/Guardian-Angel-1.gif
i205.photobucket.com/albums/bb134/K-9_Socks/120509717534438.gif


Cut me open and you will discover Belgian Malinois in my blood.
I’ve watched the birds sing for almost one year now.
At birth my mother dubbed me Guardian Angel.
Sometimes I like to be called Guardan.
I was given the organs of a vixen.
I haven’t picked a side, therefore I stay Neutral.

My traits are unique:

I’ve always been taught that you should help those who need it, whether its friend or foe. Though there have been some cases that I just sat and watched others as they died, but what could I have done? Nothing. That’s what I keep telling myself, you would guess that I’m insane just by glancing at me. I stray on the fringes of sanity, though I’m struggling to climb out of the bottomless pit. The stable ground I once new seems so foreign now, and my attitude has suffered drastically. I’ve never confessed what I’ve done in the past but the guilt of murdering another haunts me in my sleep. I wake up to nightmares almost every night; nothing I have done has been soothing them. The weight is crushing me, and suicidal thoughts visit my mind often. Sometimes I manage to keep my emotions bottled within my chest but when the cap flies off…you’re wishing for death. I'm not cocky, nor do I judge others before I see them but I get that a lot. I mouth off alot, though rarely. You've got to get me really mad to start spitting retorts. I may be young, but I've outsmarted plenty of adults. I'm a devious little thing when I want to be. Mood swings come and go, but I do my best to contain my annoyance. You won't have to worry about being annoyed, because you’re usually the one annoying me. However, it’s been easy to fool others with mind games; I’ve been searching for someone who’d accept me for who I am. I also speak German, and most of my lyrics will be fulfilled with the language. Nonetheless most canines aren’t as bright as me, so I talk like that to confuse them. I know English just as well. I’m defiantly not a bubbly, bouncy pup, I tend to keep to myself and stay quiet. Most mistake me as a mute, I can be, but I that’s just when I don't have much to say. Though with a guiding paw and a welcoming smile I just may be able to bend my life into shape. [More coming as she is roleplayed]

My past haunts me:

"Mutter? Mutter?" My calls were always welcomed with silence. It was a rather chilly day when I fould that my mother had abandoned me, but I didn't flip like most pups. I was about eight weeks then, and I knew how to fend for myself. The distressed calls for my mother did go unanswered yes, but someone was there all along with me. The bird. I’ve always pleaded to my mother asking if I could play with it, but she would fuss over me. “You have such beautiful orbs dear, the bird with remove them. It’s not safe.” She always told me, though she never once had her gaze meet with mine. She didn’t even care about me. When the nights were bitter I would try to snuggle against her but she’d get up and move away. Now she wasn’t here, and the bird noted its greeting as it fluffed the pitch black feathers embedded on its frame. Landing on the soil beside me, I sat on my haunches as a smile started to sprout. So, now I have a two legged companion how bizarre does it get? Way poorer. The connection between me and the bird was almost as if it was there as a littermate and when its death came I had an emotional breakdown. The murderer of my dear bird was another older pup and the reason of it was simply because I wouldn’t play with him. “I’ll destroy your bird.” His twisted lyrics still ring within my auds to this day and I usually wake up to nightmares. Killing my bird stole away the stable ground under my paws along with part of my sanity. We all grew a little older, and the pup that killed my bird had the tables turned. We were frolicking along a cliff and he scampered ahead of me. That was the plot; I knew how weak the ground was. As the soil gave a shutter under our paws, he froze in place, glancing over his shoulders at me. That did no good for him because I had the same twisted smirk upon my maw as he once did, and I muttered a few quick words. “Just close your eyes and say goodbye.” Tones were occupied with mockery as he went along with the diminishing earthy rocks, his frame twisted and punctured at the bottom. I am still young, and I’ve already killed another. God, what’s becoming of me?