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Diatori - Caedesque
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Diatori - Caedesque
- Name: Diatori A. Garrison
- Gender: Male
- Age: 313
- Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
- Requested Pack: Caedesque
- Requested Rank: Warrior
- Appearance: Diatori in his human state looks much like a light boxer, not the biggest around, but has great definition and tone. Weighing at only 150 pounds, and a height at 6'2'', giving him this tall and slender appearance. He has a continuous, tan skin tone, and has two tattoos. One on each shoulder blade, and one on his stomach. The artwork on his right shoulder blade consists of a wolf's head that has Native American chief head wear. On the left shoulder blade is a quote written in a Gothic font reading: "I am the architect of my own destruction..." The portrait on his stomach is very detailed like the others, giving his skin the illusion of it being shredded. Behind the shredded area is the night sky with a large full moon in the sky, and a wolf's head pointed up towards it howling. The wolf had a golden color, and the moon was silver, the rest of the sky was black with little white dots randomly plotted. Besides that, Diatori's eyes are a greenish color, and his hair had been bleached blonde. Despite his old age, he appeared to be in his early-mid twenties.
Diatori's wolven form resembles nothing of his human. His eyes change from a light greenish to a golden color. His hide consists of many colors, black, white, tan, and reddish brown. The majority of his fur is a collection browns, his back and some of his head has black and white. When in sun, or bright moon light, his pelt seems to glow, or glimmer, giving this illusion of being made of gold. The beast's height is measured at maybe a little over 10 feet, with visible muscular definition. With spearhead teeth in his muzzle, and dagger like nails grown from his paws, the wolf is a perfect predator.
- Face Claim: Brad Pitt
- Human Photo:
- Wolf Photo:
- Joining Keys: Keys have been removed - Silas the Awesome
- How Did You Find Us?: Its Nordic dawg!
- History: Diatori was born into a pure blooded pack, Bitten, or half bloods weren't accepted as equals, and if there was one in the pack, they were Omegas or servants. Luckily Diatori was birthed as a pure blood. The entire pack were Native Americans, pretty much all roots led back to the Apache tribe. The story was that one man had went out hunting with his best men, and came back alone, with the skin of a large wolf hung on his head. That night the man shifted into the wolf he had killed, and he hunted down his tribe members like prey. He awoke the next morning in human form, the survivors, including the chief, had banished him from their lands. That was the story Diatori grew up on, and his beliefs could never be changed. As he grew up, he ran with the pack in his human form, along with the other children. He had learned to climb trees, and other obstacles very well, hopping tree from tree watching his pack members hunt in their wolven forms. Their pack had never had a set place to live. They traveled all around the southern area of Canada, following the hunt. When Diatori had turned thirteen, the tribe had the usual ceremony. Camp was set-up in a valley, full of wilderness. Night had fallen upon the pack and the large fire was lit. The pack members that could shift to their wolven forms did, they sat around the fire bowing their heads, the children watched from the trees above. Diatori was sitting in the circle with the wolves, and he felt it come upon him. The colorful hide sprouted from his body, and he grew. He was the biggest wolf they had seen besides the Alpha. The pack howled, and the hunt was on.
Diatori came back with his wolven pack mates with his first catch, a large white tailed deer. A feast occurred, and the pack slept. Twenty years had past, and Diatori had fallen in love with unlikely member. The pack's Omega, a half blood. They loved in secret for two years without suspicion, and then she became pregnant during mating season. Their secret was out, and the Alpha was furious. Diatori's parents had disowned him, and he was forbidden from seeing his love. That night he was put on the hunting party. He arrived back at camp after the long hunt, to be stricken with anger. The hunting party usually splits up to gather more food, so that's what Diatori thought had happened. Instead he was abandoned, the camp was packed up, and the charred wood on the ground was dried up, not a scent for miles. Morning was rising upon the sky, and Diatori's heart sunk, he shifted back to human and ran towards the slightest scent of his pack. He sprinted for miles, his muscles began tearing, and aching. He was becoming parched, and he lost faith. He slowed down and fell on his knees, tears fell from his eyes, washing away the crusted war paint on his cheeks. Diatori slumped in the middle of a meadow for hours, watching herds of deer eat next to him. Spoken to, only by his wolf, his only friend, family. Diatori stood once again, the deer dashed off sketchily. He walked slowly across the meadow to a small creek, where he had collapsed in, drinking the water in large portions, and cooling himself off. The paint came off easily, and his dark hair cleansed quickly. He fell asleep in the comfortable shallow water, and awoke when the smell of smoke smacked him in the face.
A small group of Cherokee tribe members surrounded him, speaking Cherokee. Luckily Diatori had learned most Native languages from his pack. He responded to them, and the men sighed. They helped Diatori up, and directed him to their home lands, just to the East of him. Diatori nodded, and thanked them, and started towards the Cherokee tribe. He noticed the sky was becoming dimmer, and the moon was rising. The full moon was upon him, and before he could get out of sight from the Cherokee hunting party, he shifted. The moon light hit his colorful hide, the lighter brown areas on his hide began to glow in a golden color, giving him this illusion of a god in the Cherokee eyes. They fell on their knees and praised him, they led him to their land, without finishing the hunt, and the rest of the tribe praised him as well. They believed that he was a sun god that had fallen when the moon had risen. Others believed he was a demon, a skinwalker cursed by a witch or warlock. Although some did not like his existence, the chief did, and allowed Diatori to live with them for a good hundred years. During the day, Diatori would run, and hunt in the forest, and arrive at night in his wolven form. On New Moon nights, he would hide up in the trees, watching over the hunting party without them knowing. Diatori lived with the tribe through two chiefs, the third, believed he was an omen. 1851, the white men from Europe had established tribal reservations, the Chief had blamed Diatori, and destroyed any kind of source that had to do with Diatori's existence, artwork, things like that. He was hunted by the tribe that had adopted him as one of their own. Diatori had become cornered by the men. He was forced to shift, and murder the men he had once trusted.
Diatori then adapted to the next environment he was being exposed to. The Revolutionary War past by, then the Civil War, and during all this time, Diatori had been blending in as a hunter, he would catch his prey, an trade the items with various people, he wore what they wore, and he cut his hair short, and his tan skin wasn't enough to make him appear native. All he did was travel, and one day he decided to visit migrate towards Europe. He arrived in Great Britain, and lived in an abandoned farm house for a good amount of time, there his wolf had earned the name Royal. He then traveled back to America. And Diatori had to blend in once again. He cut his hair short, and bleached it blonde, and lived in New York city. There he smelled a scent he hadn't smelt in a long time, a wereling. He pushed through the crowd, and navigated himself into an alley. There he had found Eternal Darkness, or at least what was left of it. Diatori searched for clues and found things that lead to the new location, France. So Diatori left to Europe once again to mend a pathway to his future.
- Example Writing: ~~Can You Afford Trust~~
Diatori had been going through his usual day, hunting in his human form until night, then he would arrive back at the Cherokee camp that praised his wolven form. He could feel the warm breeze hit his bareback, and along with that breeze carried a new smell. Diatori turned towards it, and he realized it was coming from the Cherokee camp. He jumped down from the tree he was in, he landed swiftly and began jogging towards the camp. He felt relieved allowing his muscles stretch out a bit. The sensation of the wind flowing through his long,dark hair, soothed him more. He felt as if there wasn't a worry in the world, until the musket shots were heard from where he was running towards. The screams echoed in his head. He began sprinting, running faster then any human. He splashed hard through a creek as the worry shot through his body. Diatori kept his breathing, and speed steady so that he wouldn't gain cramps. More shots went off, and Diatori had arrived.
Ten white men were storming the camp, threatening the Cherokee in English. They couldn't understand what was happening. Men were laying on the ground bleeding to death. The chief stood confronting the the white men. Women and children were crying. A young boy ran towards the chief and pointed at Diatori. The chief glared at Diatori, and the white man began walking towards him.
"You there! Savage! Tell your people to leave, this is our land." Said the leader of the hostiles. Diatori understood most English, and began telling what the white men wished.
"I told he was a demon... destroy him. They will leave when he is dead!" Cried out the chief. The remainder of the men began aiming their arrows and chasing Diatori. Diatori frowned and ran towards the forest, he wished not to kill the people who praised him. He trusted them, and he thought they had trusted him. He was obviously wrong. He continued sprinting as arrow after arrow flew past his face. His hide pants began slowing him down a bit, but he continued to run. Something slammed into his back at great speed, sending him to the ground. An Arrow stuck out of his shoulder blade, blood seeped out slowly. The men quickly caught up, and Diatori's arm had been numbed from an unknown reason. He struggled to stand, but before he could a foot slammed into his chest, and he was on the ground once again.
The Cherokee hunters surrounded him, he couldn't move his right arm, and he wasn't capable of getting up without being put back down. Ten arrows, and one spear was aimed at him, he had no choice but to kill them.We must Diatori.. Said his wolf as the thought fluttered around in his head. He knew he had to, but he was hesitant. The familiar itchy burny feeling shot through his body. His colorful hide sprouted from his skin, the sunlight immediately made it appear to glow. He shook his head once, allowing his neck to pop sending a relieving sensation throughout his back. He snarled at the men and growled, they didn't flee, instead they attacked. Arrows were sent randomly in his body.The wolf collapsed suddenly, and got back up quickly, towering over the attacking men. He jumped towards one, sending a powerful paw into the foe's forehead, nails dug deep, cracking through the skull. The beast then turned around quickly and attempted to bite another man. The blood filled the wolf's mouth, a taste he had never had, powerful, and addicting. He then bit down harder, more blood, and he dropped the man,dead with a broken rib cage and punctured lung. Another man jumped at the wolven Diatori, he simply moved and the man fell on the ground. The monster then lunged at the human, grabbing hold of his head with a powerful jaw. Diatori swung the man around ferociously, hearing the neck snap, then dropping him. He then let out a loud bark at the remaining men, who tried to run.
Diatori then leaped forward with great speed, ending up in front of the fleeing men. He then slammed his head into one, who collapsed with a broken sternum, which led to a punctured heart. The rest of the men fell to their knees and pleaded for mercy. Diatori had been overcome with anger, he hadn't released his balled up emotions he carried around for hundreds of years. He slammed his to front paws on top of two men, smashing their skulls in the dirt. Four men were left pleading, one man had fled to the forest. Diatori walked to the other two men who were pleading, he opened his jaw wide, and put it around one man's body. Diatori's fang punctured the mans stomach, blood seeped into his mouth. He began to chew, and the mans screaming had been silenced as his bones crunched. The last man began crawling towards the chewing wolf, and he began plucking arrows out of it's body. After the second arrow was plucked, the beast let a growl rumble out of his mouth, the man stopped, and fell to his knees once again. Diatori's anger began fading, but it was still there, and he released the last bit on the man. He grabbed the man by his leg, and swung him around like a chew toy. Pops, and breaks could be heard, he then tossed the man ten yards. He walked over to the disfigured body and took a breath. More gunshots went off, but Diatori didn't care, and he ran into the forest, away from the men and women who had praised him like a god, and he knew he would never hear of them again.
- Gender: Male
- Age: 313
- Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
- Requested Pack: Caedesque
- Requested Rank: Warrior
- Appearance: Diatori in his human state looks much like a light boxer, not the biggest around, but has great definition and tone. Weighing at only 150 pounds, and a height at 6'2'', giving him this tall and slender appearance. He has a continuous, tan skin tone, and has two tattoos. One on each shoulder blade, and one on his stomach. The artwork on his right shoulder blade consists of a wolf's head that has Native American chief head wear. On the left shoulder blade is a quote written in a Gothic font reading: "I am the architect of my own destruction..." The portrait on his stomach is very detailed like the others, giving his skin the illusion of it being shredded. Behind the shredded area is the night sky with a large full moon in the sky, and a wolf's head pointed up towards it howling. The wolf had a golden color, and the moon was silver, the rest of the sky was black with little white dots randomly plotted. Besides that, Diatori's eyes are a greenish color, and his hair had been bleached blonde. Despite his old age, he appeared to be in his early-mid twenties.
Diatori's wolven form resembles nothing of his human. His eyes change from a light greenish to a golden color. His hide consists of many colors, black, white, tan, and reddish brown. The majority of his fur is a collection browns, his back and some of his head has black and white. When in sun, or bright moon light, his pelt seems to glow, or glimmer, giving this illusion of being made of gold. The beast's height is measured at maybe a little over 10 feet, with visible muscular definition. With spearhead teeth in his muzzle, and dagger like nails grown from his paws, the wolf is a perfect predator.
- Face Claim: Brad Pitt
- Human Photo:
[You must be registered and logged in to see this image.]
- Wolf Photo:
[You must be registered and logged in to see this image.]
- Joining Keys: Keys have been removed - Silas the Awesome
- How Did You Find Us?: Its Nordic dawg!
- History: Diatori was born into a pure blooded pack, Bitten, or half bloods weren't accepted as equals, and if there was one in the pack, they were Omegas or servants. Luckily Diatori was birthed as a pure blood. The entire pack were Native Americans, pretty much all roots led back to the Apache tribe. The story was that one man had went out hunting with his best men, and came back alone, with the skin of a large wolf hung on his head. That night the man shifted into the wolf he had killed, and he hunted down his tribe members like prey. He awoke the next morning in human form, the survivors, including the chief, had banished him from their lands. That was the story Diatori grew up on, and his beliefs could never be changed. As he grew up, he ran with the pack in his human form, along with the other children. He had learned to climb trees, and other obstacles very well, hopping tree from tree watching his pack members hunt in their wolven forms. Their pack had never had a set place to live. They traveled all around the southern area of Canada, following the hunt. When Diatori had turned thirteen, the tribe had the usual ceremony. Camp was set-up in a valley, full of wilderness. Night had fallen upon the pack and the large fire was lit. The pack members that could shift to their wolven forms did, they sat around the fire bowing their heads, the children watched from the trees above. Diatori was sitting in the circle with the wolves, and he felt it come upon him. The colorful hide sprouted from his body, and he grew. He was the biggest wolf they had seen besides the Alpha. The pack howled, and the hunt was on.
Diatori came back with his wolven pack mates with his first catch, a large white tailed deer. A feast occurred, and the pack slept. Twenty years had past, and Diatori had fallen in love with unlikely member. The pack's Omega, a half blood. They loved in secret for two years without suspicion, and then she became pregnant during mating season. Their secret was out, and the Alpha was furious. Diatori's parents had disowned him, and he was forbidden from seeing his love. That night he was put on the hunting party. He arrived back at camp after the long hunt, to be stricken with anger. The hunting party usually splits up to gather more food, so that's what Diatori thought had happened. Instead he was abandoned, the camp was packed up, and the charred wood on the ground was dried up, not a scent for miles. Morning was rising upon the sky, and Diatori's heart sunk, he shifted back to human and ran towards the slightest scent of his pack. He sprinted for miles, his muscles began tearing, and aching. He was becoming parched, and he lost faith. He slowed down and fell on his knees, tears fell from his eyes, washing away the crusted war paint on his cheeks. Diatori slumped in the middle of a meadow for hours, watching herds of deer eat next to him. Spoken to, only by his wolf, his only friend, family. Diatori stood once again, the deer dashed off sketchily. He walked slowly across the meadow to a small creek, where he had collapsed in, drinking the water in large portions, and cooling himself off. The paint came off easily, and his dark hair cleansed quickly. He fell asleep in the comfortable shallow water, and awoke when the smell of smoke smacked him in the face.
A small group of Cherokee tribe members surrounded him, speaking Cherokee. Luckily Diatori had learned most Native languages from his pack. He responded to them, and the men sighed. They helped Diatori up, and directed him to their home lands, just to the East of him. Diatori nodded, and thanked them, and started towards the Cherokee tribe. He noticed the sky was becoming dimmer, and the moon was rising. The full moon was upon him, and before he could get out of sight from the Cherokee hunting party, he shifted. The moon light hit his colorful hide, the lighter brown areas on his hide began to glow in a golden color, giving him this illusion of a god in the Cherokee eyes. They fell on their knees and praised him, they led him to their land, without finishing the hunt, and the rest of the tribe praised him as well. They believed that he was a sun god that had fallen when the moon had risen. Others believed he was a demon, a skinwalker cursed by a witch or warlock. Although some did not like his existence, the chief did, and allowed Diatori to live with them for a good hundred years. During the day, Diatori would run, and hunt in the forest, and arrive at night in his wolven form. On New Moon nights, he would hide up in the trees, watching over the hunting party without them knowing. Diatori lived with the tribe through two chiefs, the third, believed he was an omen. 1851, the white men from Europe had established tribal reservations, the Chief had blamed Diatori, and destroyed any kind of source that had to do with Diatori's existence, artwork, things like that. He was hunted by the tribe that had adopted him as one of their own. Diatori had become cornered by the men. He was forced to shift, and murder the men he had once trusted.
Diatori then adapted to the next environment he was being exposed to. The Revolutionary War past by, then the Civil War, and during all this time, Diatori had been blending in as a hunter, he would catch his prey, an trade the items with various people, he wore what they wore, and he cut his hair short, and his tan skin wasn't enough to make him appear native. All he did was travel, and one day he decided to visit migrate towards Europe. He arrived in Great Britain, and lived in an abandoned farm house for a good amount of time, there his wolf had earned the name Royal. He then traveled back to America. And Diatori had to blend in once again. He cut his hair short, and bleached it blonde, and lived in New York city. There he smelled a scent he hadn't smelt in a long time, a wereling. He pushed through the crowd, and navigated himself into an alley. There he had found Eternal Darkness, or at least what was left of it. Diatori searched for clues and found things that lead to the new location, France. So Diatori left to Europe once again to mend a pathway to his future.
- Example Writing: ~~Can You Afford Trust~~
Diatori had been going through his usual day, hunting in his human form until night, then he would arrive back at the Cherokee camp that praised his wolven form. He could feel the warm breeze hit his bareback, and along with that breeze carried a new smell. Diatori turned towards it, and he realized it was coming from the Cherokee camp. He jumped down from the tree he was in, he landed swiftly and began jogging towards the camp. He felt relieved allowing his muscles stretch out a bit. The sensation of the wind flowing through his long,dark hair, soothed him more. He felt as if there wasn't a worry in the world, until the musket shots were heard from where he was running towards. The screams echoed in his head. He began sprinting, running faster then any human. He splashed hard through a creek as the worry shot through his body. Diatori kept his breathing, and speed steady so that he wouldn't gain cramps. More shots went off, and Diatori had arrived.
Ten white men were storming the camp, threatening the Cherokee in English. They couldn't understand what was happening. Men were laying on the ground bleeding to death. The chief stood confronting the the white men. Women and children were crying. A young boy ran towards the chief and pointed at Diatori. The chief glared at Diatori, and the white man began walking towards him.
"You there! Savage! Tell your people to leave, this is our land." Said the leader of the hostiles. Diatori understood most English, and began telling what the white men wished.
"I told he was a demon... destroy him. They will leave when he is dead!" Cried out the chief. The remainder of the men began aiming their arrows and chasing Diatori. Diatori frowned and ran towards the forest, he wished not to kill the people who praised him. He trusted them, and he thought they had trusted him. He was obviously wrong. He continued sprinting as arrow after arrow flew past his face. His hide pants began slowing him down a bit, but he continued to run. Something slammed into his back at great speed, sending him to the ground. An Arrow stuck out of his shoulder blade, blood seeped out slowly. The men quickly caught up, and Diatori's arm had been numbed from an unknown reason. He struggled to stand, but before he could a foot slammed into his chest, and he was on the ground once again.
The Cherokee hunters surrounded him, he couldn't move his right arm, and he wasn't capable of getting up without being put back down. Ten arrows, and one spear was aimed at him, he had no choice but to kill them.We must Diatori.. Said his wolf as the thought fluttered around in his head. He knew he had to, but he was hesitant. The familiar itchy burny feeling shot through his body. His colorful hide sprouted from his skin, the sunlight immediately made it appear to glow. He shook his head once, allowing his neck to pop sending a relieving sensation throughout his back. He snarled at the men and growled, they didn't flee, instead they attacked. Arrows were sent randomly in his body.The wolf collapsed suddenly, and got back up quickly, towering over the attacking men. He jumped towards one, sending a powerful paw into the foe's forehead, nails dug deep, cracking through the skull. The beast then turned around quickly and attempted to bite another man. The blood filled the wolf's mouth, a taste he had never had, powerful, and addicting. He then bit down harder, more blood, and he dropped the man,dead with a broken rib cage and punctured lung. Another man jumped at the wolven Diatori, he simply moved and the man fell on the ground. The monster then lunged at the human, grabbing hold of his head with a powerful jaw. Diatori swung the man around ferociously, hearing the neck snap, then dropping him. He then let out a loud bark at the remaining men, who tried to run.
Diatori then leaped forward with great speed, ending up in front of the fleeing men. He then slammed his head into one, who collapsed with a broken sternum, which led to a punctured heart. The rest of the men fell to their knees and pleaded for mercy. Diatori had been overcome with anger, he hadn't released his balled up emotions he carried around for hundreds of years. He slammed his to front paws on top of two men, smashing their skulls in the dirt. Four men were left pleading, one man had fled to the forest. Diatori walked to the other two men who were pleading, he opened his jaw wide, and put it around one man's body. Diatori's fang punctured the mans stomach, blood seeped into his mouth. He began to chew, and the mans screaming had been silenced as his bones crunched. The last man began crawling towards the chewing wolf, and he began plucking arrows out of it's body. After the second arrow was plucked, the beast let a growl rumble out of his mouth, the man stopped, and fell to his knees once again. Diatori's anger began fading, but it was still there, and he released the last bit on the man. He grabbed the man by his leg, and swung him around like a chew toy. Pops, and breaks could be heard, he then tossed the man ten yards. He walked over to the disfigured body and took a breath. More gunshots went off, but Diatori didn't care, and he ran into the forest, away from the men and women who had praised him like a god, and he knew he would never hear of them again.
Warrior Diatori- Posts : 10
Join date : 2014-04-12
Age : 26
Location : Christmas Island
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