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about Bones, Ghost
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Registration Date: 05-10-2013
Last Visit: 02-27-2014 08:28 AM Total Posts 60 Played By: Middy 
 Total EXP
75 |
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| Hel Toril DeSolaug's Info | |||||||||
| "Look down on me, you will see a fool. Look up at me, you will see your Lord. Look straight at me, you will see yourself." | |||||||||
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general information
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Relations:
Other Info:
Familiar
Hel has a familiar named Azrael. Azrael is a large male meanalistic lion, weighing 550Ibs. Built from muscle the male is bulky in size, swift on his feet and large jowls that could devour a wolf in a under an hour. The brutes mane is tidy, kept with care, usually a neat monster the male is actually quite gentle in nature. The charcoal male, though brutish, is soft spoken and the better of the pair when it comes to rough situations. Azrael is not one for violence, avoiding it at all cost's, preferring to use his brains rather then his brawn, it has not been uncommon, since their meeting, for the male to hold Hel back with reason. The pairing is actually quite odd, a headstrong beast hellbent on destruction, and a gentle giant with a thirst for knowledge. | |||||||||
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appearance
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Reference
Hel is nothing short of mastodonic, the beast has shaggy fur all along her body. The top of her head starts an even longer patch of hair that stands straight up, traveling down her spine, much in the way a hyena's does. Her body is the deepest of reds, a dried blood, rusty type color, the eeriest of colors that hell fires could produce, and as her namesake proclaims, her domain had staked it's claim on her as much as she had on it. The mane down her spine is a charcoal color, burnt from the fire from whence she came, her body hair is said to grow the red because her soul is damned, and her hair grows the colors of her victims life force. Atop her head is a set of antlers, a six point time atop her head, towering majestically over the brute. On the tines of the woman are ornaments of her journey through life, bones and skeletons from her prey, feathers hang down from the highest tines, so as not to block her vision in the times of sight. On her skull, the woman has a type of head-plate/headdress type helmet, covering the space down the bridge of her nose and across her forehead, attaching itself to her antlers to secure itself tightly. The eyes peering from beneath the metal are deep and ominous, dangerous and terrifying, the deep silver blades miss nothing. | |||||||||
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personality
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A sadist by nature, Hel enjoys inflicting pain on others, and though she often sticks to the lesser creatures of the lands, every once in a while she likes to taste the blood of another, roll the power in their blood around in her mouth for a moment before finishing the task and going her own way. Quiet the woman moves as swiftly as the wind, slipping along through the shadows as if she were one herself. She has a sick and twisted sense of humor and doesn't mind getting into a spat or two, verbally or physically. Hel likes to play psychological games, often picking the weaknesses of her enemy and playing them against themselves. The charcoal monster tends to enjoy her solitary, often finding herself torturing little animals or killing for spot. She does enjoy the company of others, though they cannot be 'big bright balls of sunshine'. Her mood is always dark and shrouded in shadows, though the humor that peaks through those shadows is nothing more then a maniacal laugh when watching a jackalope scream for mercy. Hel fears nothing. Her father trained her and her surviving brother to feel nothing, find no shame in their activities, if anything she takes pride in the many methods of torture her brain can come up with. Hel might be vicious, but she knows the ways of the "common wolf", she can blend herself into just about any setting, playing the fiddle to the common melody of the pack ways, hiding her many sadistic activities as easily as her true personality. | |||||||||
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history
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Hel comes from a very extensive line of killers. the pack she grew up with went from place to place, slaughtering the wolves and taking their lands. The Ruin would make her and her brother's watch their deeds, making them take in the brutality, which in turn turned herself and two of her brothers into sadistic monsters, her other brother killed himself at an early age, unable to take the violence any longer.
Her father, Fenris, claimed the boy as weak, he didn't deserve to carry the family name, and in turn sent them to search for nearby lands to ransack in the middle of the night. Hel spent her days as "Daddy's little hellion" and did everything she was told, as she grew older, she began to realize she enjoyed her work, the slaughter of innocents was far too plesant for her to be happy doing anything else, Hel because better at murder then her brother, making her kills quick, and on her better days, torturing the victims for hours, just so she could laugh at them and the sounds and pleads that fell forth from their lips. Soon Fenris had decided his time to lead had passed, and gave the family and it's duties to her brother. Her brother didn't like her, he never had, she had always been the shining jewel in "Daddy's" eyes, he attempted to chase her out, but Hel would not have it, she was larger then her brother, stronger then her brother, more ruthless and hostile, a battle waged, but shortly after it had begun it ended. Her brother lay bleeding before the pack, his throat torn out, pieces of it falling down her throat as she savagely licked her lips free of the taste of her kin. She smiled viciously and snarled at the group as she laughed, turning the massive head to her father the wench let out a laugh fitting a maniac and he smiled proudly. She apologized to her father for the hassle he would have to endure to battle males from the pack against each other to find another heir, but she was oh so tired of 'Looking at his nasty face', giving her father a long embrace, Hel soon gave him a gentle, loving lick on his maw before setting off to find her own place. | |||||||||
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