Post by spike on Mar 9, 2012 18:26:56 GMT -5
Flynn
"Nightmares are only my recurring memories. "
five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes
NAME Flynn
GENDER Male
NICKNAMES None
AGE 3 years
BREED Mutt
SEXUALITY Homosexual, slightly bisexual
PACK Loner
HI I'M FLYNN AND THIS IS ME:
[/color]The Fallen ;;[/size][/font][/i]
It is hard to describe me and my unique look. You see, I'm not your typical fighting dog. If anything, I would consider myself very much a stereotypical idea of the Irish. My upper half is a flaming orange color, closer to a red-ginger than brown. It is sometimes interrupted by a little white but it covers my back half in an odd way. The bottom half is white. For the most part, I mean. I have black "smudges" on my tail and face and in the undercoat along my chest. Strange, I know. Even worse, my legs are speckled up and down with patches of the same orange. Actually, lighter than that but it is clear where they derived themselves from. My tail must have been a fox's because it goes from red to black then a tip in white. The only other unusual marking is the very thin line of white up my muzzle and forehead that I have only ever seen in my own reflection. Perhaps it symbolizes how much I am merely cursed in half.
Body build is also weird. I hate being weird, not that I can escape it. I'm relatively muscled and heavily built. Stocky is the better word. I'm not very large in height which I would equate to be labrador sized and definitely not on the larger end of that spectrum. Even worse seems to be my small muzzle and small paws which I have heard being called "dainty." My thick ears flop on my head though hold enough structure so not to be closer to a beagle's. Thick chested and thick furred, stout tail and large head. I'm not sure exactly who made me but apparently they had a sense of humor that I did not receive. I will say, however, that my eyes must be a good thing. They are the same color as my red fur which shocks some. It isn't an unusual shade of brown but just oddly light and bright. It isn't bad, is it? Never mind. You've heard of my oddities now. Just don't stand and stare, if you will.
The Deserted ;;[/size][/font][/i]
I'm not a dog you should be around. If I could, I'd make sure you wouldn't come near me because there's something in me that was born and raised. It wants something bad. I'm unstable because of my fighting past. I carry emotions that can hurt others. I'm scared to hurt others because I cannot control what I do not know. The intelligence I have feels useless sometimes. Some part of me wants to be truthful but I am a liar to cover up everything. You see, I'm not just Flynn. I'm Irish Dagger, prized fighter in the ring. It was like Irish Dagger developed to a whole new side of me and only being around Iktami has managed to keep it at bay. Loyal to the bone and protective of what I feel may be all I have left. I have no known family except for Iktami and it hurts that my natural feeling to be family-oriented wants to overtake.
I will admit that I'm, what you call, "in the closet" because dogs where I came from never did those things unless it was for dominance. While I will not show it outwardly or immediately, I am actually dominant and months of fighting back other dominant dogs developed that in me. Normally I can seem quite calm and controlled though that's only when I manage to keep that monster held back inside. In a way, I am two dogs and Flynn is the good side of me. Irish Dagger is what I have to fight. I just want help. I need help. Oh no, I have to go. I think... I think he's coming for me.
The Boulevard[/b] of Broken Dreams[/color] ;;[/color][/size][/font][/i]
My life wasn't exactly full of fairy tale endings and beginnings. It wasn't nice and sweet and without its troubles. You see, I wasn't born here. I wasn't even born in the United States. I was brought here when I was young from Ireland where they named me Flynn as if it would honor my homeland. Don't know if it does but to me, the open fields and cattle ranch made up so much of my life. I can't really recall my parents or siblings that well. I think I had some. I know I had parents but maybe they are all faded into yesterdays. So, I was brought here as a pet despite my herding past. They wanted me for some reason though I didn't quite know what it was. The place they took me to smelled.
It was like blood and burning fur. I didn't know what to think of it as I saw either dogs that were viciously attacking the grate between us or dogs that were in their own drool and feces with blood covering their bodies. I was thrown into a cage and left there to wait. No food. No water. I sat there and listened to the rottweilers and pit bulls and dobermans scream insults at me. There was anger in their eyes and a clear sense of hatred even if I had never spoken to them in my life. I just kept to myself and waited for what I did not know. Eventually, somebody did come for me and they threw a thick chain around my neck. I can remember clearly struggling to breathe but pushing through it just to get out of the disgusting smell of the dying.
I was lead into a ring where, on the other side, a massive shepherd dog stood. His eyes were dilated and he drooled a great deal through his snarling. There wasn't a chance before he was on me and fighting to grab at the soft underside of my throat. What was I to do? It was my life or his and he had already lost his sanity. I fought back out of desperation, clawing and gnawing on what I could. It was a fight that was about to go to the end. Men were surrounding us and screaming in excitement. They wanted one of us to win though which?
Fuzzy. It's all so fuzzy but I lost myself and when my mind came back, the shepherd was on the ground in a torn, bloody mess. It was so clear that he was dead that I found myself backing up from the body. "Irish Dagger wins!"
It was a long time that this went on. "Irish Dagger." What kind of name is that? Apparently that was who I was because Dagger always came out when a new opponent was put into the ring with me. What had happened? I was developing a bloodlust and a sort of darkness that was locked away until claws and fangs met. They would throw coyotes or two dogs, even a full grown wolf one time. I took them down because it was always my life or theirs. I wanted to live. I ask myself today if all the killing was worth my life. I also ask if that was Dagger or my desperation that fought?
Then we heard the sirens and the men scattered. The dogs all paced their cells, barking and causing any sound they could. Somebody had come! My only thought then came to freedom. The freedom to escape this, the freedom to be Flynn again. They came in with men that had ways of capturing the dogs, a way they could not escape. I refused to let myself be one of those. When it came near me, I charged hard into the door which was flung open thanks to my strength. They screamed to catch me but Irish Dagger- er, Flynn- is a fast dog. I bolted for any way out which lead me straight into the woods.
I guess from that point on, I knew who I was, what I was, and about nothing else. I was Flynn and Irish Dagger. I was a lone dog who had scars of his past and a side of him he was scared to let loose. I met Iktami though, a lonely she-wolf that had her own baggage. She was sweet to me, kind and understanding of where I came from. She's my sister and I'd fight to the death to protect her. We came to Genesis looking for stability in our lives and Iktami and I hope we can find it. The packs make us uneasy but it is possible still. I just hope I don't go mad before healing can come.
YOUR NAME Spike
how do you measure, measure a year
I do not take credit for the picture. Credit given to photographer.
Flynn copyright by Spike 3/6/2012. Do not steal.
[/right]Flynn copyright by Spike 3/6/2012. Do not steal.
