Post by Cassandra on Jul 23, 2017 7:59:45 GMT
CASSANDRA  the basics Full Name • Cassandra Nicknames • No Age • four years old Gender • Female Sexuality • bisexual Alliance • Solace Rank • Scout Mate • N/A the appearance Breed • Holländischer Schäferhund Fur Color • Brindle Eye Color • Brown Height and Weight • 23in & 80lbs Identifying Features • A circle of semi-exposed skin around her throat from a too tight nylon collar. Overall Appearance • Cassandra, like any street dog worth their salt, is a little malnourished. Her thin frame conveys the slim pickings available to those who find themselves in the dire straits of an urban stray, dodging humans and making off with little more than scraps on the verge of fouling. Thankfully she doesn’t appear sickly, if a bit lethargic in the sluggish way that she tends to maneuver – although that could just as easily be a byproduct of slothfulness. She doesn’t feel the need to put on airs for anyone who might be watching, let them think what they will; better for her by far if they take her at face value and underestimate what abilities she’s learned. Being of medium size and a moderately bright-colored coat works against her desire to remain inconspicuous in a few instances. By sheer luck scouting doesn’t necessarily require stealth. Her pelt is summed up as a brindle pattern. A dark face staring balefully out at the world, lined by hairs of striking gold, orange and faint tans, all of which intermingled with the dark grays and ebony strands interlaced between them all. Though some of it might just be dirt. the personality Likes • traveling, coastal areas, gossip, cats, working Dislikes • pointless fighting, pups, vehicles, things around her neck Strengths • obedience, endurance, agility Weaknesses • intelligence, apathy Skills • combat, tracking Fears • Living without purpose, stagnancy, drowning Overall personality • Principally speaking the girl looks neither unkind nor especially threatening to the naked eye. With her soft physical appearance and doe-eyed stare, she hardly seems the sort to go from zero to vicious in seconds. Granted, her temper isn’t realistically that short but only a rare few wish to test how far her patience spans once they’ve officially gotten to know the lass. Pity the fools who haven’t a good sense of self-preservation who do; pray that their gods show them mercy, because she is fresh out. Ominous as that all is, it does take a bit to push the girl that far. It isn’t that Cassandra is opposed to fighting as she’d committed her fair share of violent acts. It’s more to do with confrontation that has no rhyme or reason to it. She may be capricious and wild but she despises combat for pleasure and any who partake in the bloodsport. There’s enough such carnage in the world without the rest of it regressing into savages bent. With her hatred for wanton destruction made abundantly clear, Cassandra makes it a point to be mostly non-combative herself, so much so that, in spite of her fighting skills, she refuses to advance in the ranks. It’s a personal preference of hers to remain another faceless cog in the world-worn machine, skirting away from being in the spotlight. Should the offer be given she’ll refuse and expect no questions to come of her decision. the history Father • Ludwig Mother • Anastasia Siblings • Name(s) Lydia Overall History • Humans, they control every luxury life can afford. They have an uncontested hold on food, clean water, shelter… you name it, they own it. And dogs? Well, they own us too. Most wouldn’t have it any other way; and to be frank, neither did I. Why would I object to having everything I could ever need put before me? As a puppy it never occurred to me that my tall overlord’s could be anything but generous and fair. I looked at them through rose-tinted glasses and never questioned the things they did, merely accepting that they had my best interest at heart. My story started in training facility – I kept hearing the words ‘officer’ thrown around, a word that meant very little at the time. I wasn’t even a year old when my siblings and I were put into the care of one of them. We weren’t harmed, the exact opposite really. Food at scheduled intervals, naps, toys, and long hours spent learning commands and cues to follow. I was ecstatic. These humans needed me to do a job, something important enough to require all this training and re-training and testing, I was useful, in a way that few dogs were. I was always excited when they took me out of the kennels for the one on one stuff. Besides their undivided attention, it was usually anything from finding certain items by scent or obedience training, the latter being my least favorite. Heaven’s know my attention span rivaled that of a goldfish but the handlers were patient and would always redirect me whenever I was distracted. Time passed, my training finished in under a year. They threw us a party; we got to play in a little pool, run around without a care in the world. And then, when all was said and done, we were loaded into crates. That was the last time I saw my siblings. It was the last time I saw my trainers. It was the last time for a lot of things… but I trusted that they knew what they were doing. More the fool was I… The next few years of my life found me in the capable hands of a woman named Erica. She was a police officer and we were a team for the narcotic’s department. I sniffed out contraband and she did all the harder stuff that I couldn’t. She was a wonderful woman, my partner was. I’d get treats when I did well – she was the one who gave me my pink ball come to think of it – good times. We had a rhythm worked out, a flawless system of give and take. I’ll admit, I love her with all my heart, my life was hers if she needed it, and on the few occasions she needed protection, I was there to fight her demons. Everything changed, however, when she got pregnant. Ha, bet you were expecting something big and dramatic, huh? No. She didn’t get shot, didn’t die, she just had a pup of her own. Her mate, who I seldom saw being that I didn’t always go home with Erica, was almost always underfoot when it came to Erica. I could understand his concerns but female had been having babies since as far back as anyone could remember. I couldn’t understand the fuss. When it came down to her maternity leave that was just… it. She didn’t work on the force anymore and I was reassigned. I wasn’t so fortunate with my next partner. The man they gave me to wasn’t a bad guy, he was just a terrible partner. Between missing my cues and to screwing up commands, it was a trying time just to communicate, nevermind work cohesively together. I’ll admit, I nipped at him more than once. A few times he’d get his hands in a way that felt oppressive and I’d remember with just enough time not to hurt him, but not enough to keep from snapping. Guess he got as fed up with me as I was of him because if it wasn’t strictly necessary to have my mouth open, he’d muzzle me. I wouldn’t have minded so much if he hadn’t used them so frequently, or if I hadn’t gotten thirsty quick enough for it to becoming so distressing. I did bite him one time, when he tried to take my ball from me after I’d popped it. I don’t think he understood what it meant to me but I wasn’t going to let him have it just because he was ignorant. It was a bad day for everyone. Suddenly I was three years old, almost four, and we were hot on the trail of a suspect. I could smell the stuff on him; if I hadn’t known it was a person I’d have thought the drugs had sprouted legs, that’s how thick the scent was on him. When we saw him, my handler tried to get him to surrender, did what he was supposed to while I made myself look every bit the threat to the perps personal safety. I snapped and yanked at the leash, made an unholy riot, all for the sake of getting the bad guy and getting my reward. What neither of us were expecting was for the hook to snap. My freedom didn’t register to me as a mistake as I took off and the suspect ran. It didn’t occur to me that I should have waited or checked to see if it was alright to chase, I just flew off. The guy wasn’t faster than me but he had the headstart and was close enough to the road where he could escape to. I caught him; got a mouthful of his pants until I readjusted and felt flesh give under my teeth, but I was so fixated that I didn’t see someone get out of a parked car and take a swing at me. Pain exploded in my right shoulder from one of those things humans used to scrape ice off their windshields and I let go. I went in again but got smacked with it just as surely as the first time, with an added kick to the ribs for good measure. The duo got in the car. I chased after them. It felt like only a few blocks before I stopped running but by the time I had my surroundings had turned unfamiliar. They’d come find me, I figured. I just had to wait, right? So I waited for an hour until the darkness creeping along the pavement turned ominous and black and the headlights on passing cars looked liked eyes glaring out of small faced. I’m not proud of it but I was scared. I started running. I’ve never stopped running. The rest of the year played out with me on the road. Nobody had come to get me, no one even seemed to care. I couldn't find Erica, couldn't find the police station where it was safe nor the new guy who was arguably better than the strangers I found myself among. My collar chaffed my neck, too tight for my still growing form and the material rubbed my throat raw. Some homeless guy helped me out of it and I stuck with him for a while until it got too cold outside and he left for a shelter that I wasn't allowed in. I was on my own and I've got to make the most of it. the role player Alias • Wren Pronouns • whatever Other Characters • none yet How Did You Find Cry For The Moon? • proboards advertisement |
