@Meander,

Of course! Let me get that reserved for ya.

Full Name:

Dr. Harrow

Nicknames/Alias:

Harrow, Doctor

Age:

32

Gender:

Male

Bonded or Outsider? Role?:

Outsider

Thoughts on the Other Group?:

It began as outrage, disbelief and bewilderment. How could his home throw him to the wolves? How could they leave him to fester and die outside of their walls? Was he not valuable anymore? Then as the years went by, his anger wavered into aversion. He does not want to think about his time inside those walls, the people he once called family, the ones he loved that left him to rot afraid and alone.

Appearance :

6'3" and 80kg, Harrow used to hold a significant amount of body mass, closer to 100kg. With the past years of struggling to find enough food to survive, he cannot maintain the bulked out musculature he used to. Now, his joints poke at his skin and tent it into angles, giving him a harsh outline.

Skin that used to be a mild beige now darkened by the sun, speckles of freckles across his the back of his neck and bridge of his nose only a fraction deeper in tone. His nose itself is hooked sharply, giving Harrow a distinctive profile.

Accompanying downturned eyes lined with dark, thick lashes mark Harrow with his age more than the wrinkles of his skin. Having lost their sharp spark of life, the green-hazel dulled by the predicament of whether to keep tyring to survive or to finally give up. Dark half moons under his eyes, almost blue in contrast to the warmth of his skin betray his exhaustion.

Hollowed cheeks and a sharp jawline with a narrow chin only add to his pointy appearance.

His hair that was once a rich auburn brown is now sullied with dirt, losing the luster and shine. They still maintain their 2c curls, often tangled beyong belief and yanked back into some sort of hair tie at the base of Harrow's neck. Matching dark scruff lines his jaw, he attempts to shave it but the rusted blades he can locate only leave him with nicks and patches. His eyebrows are thick and angled flat over the similarly linear top line of his eyes, the left tail has a nick in it where a small scar prevents the hair from growing.

His hands are calloused, rough to the touch and large by comparison to his long limbs.

Dressed in whatever he can get his hands on, Dr. Harrow usually sports a long thin scarf wrapped around his neck to conceal a jarring scar that runns from his left collar bone up and across his adam's apple before fading out towards his jugular. It is obvious that this injury was almost fatal, the ropes of scar tissue thick and ugly. Another piece of clothing he rarely goes without is his torn and tatterned brown trench coat. Made of a light enough material to not weigh him down if he needed to bolt, it keeps the sun from his skin during the day and the chill of the night from reaching his tired bones.

His voice was once like syrup, deep and smooth, robust. Now, Dr. Harrow struggles to speak without a constant painful rasp. Often he has to stop half way through a statement to cough and hack, sometimes drawing up blood from his damaged voice box. On a good day, his voice is crackled, rough like sandpaper.

Beneath the scent of muck and death, Harrow used to have an air of old books and freshly cleaned linens. All that clings to his skin now is the sharp tang of woodfire and old blood.

Personality:

This man is exhausted. He does his best to contribute to the group, but the looming death is never far away. With every new infected person they take in, he hopes and prays that they are like them. That they will not succumb, that they will develop some miraculous power. They never do. And when they don't he has to end their suffering, that or watch as his friends bloody their hands for him.

Dr. Harrow has his moments of possible happiness, letting the occassional sarcastic joke slip from his lips. From day to day, he cares about keeping his small troop of survivors safe from the dangers of the world outside of Altaraz.

Some nights he stares up at the stars and lets his mind wander, moving to wishing he was back within those walls. Warm and safe and back to how he used to be. The disfigurement alterned his chemistry, he cannot bring himself to be the same suave, educated man he once was. What is the point in seeking out a connection like that when they could be so easily ripped from your arms?

Dr. Harrow cares greatly for his group, doing whatever he can manage to contribute. Yet, he is not particularly close with any one member. Fear of losing them forcing him to drive a wedge between himself and everyone else.

Strengths & Weaknesses :

> Professionally trained as a doctor.

> Extremely good passive perception.

> Tactician, he knows how people think and how their bodies work in conjuction.

X Sharp tongued, will insult and snap at the smallest inconvenience if he is not in the right mood.

X Due to his tactician's mind, he is more inclined to reject potential allies than accept them readily. The sick he cares for because it is his duty and oath. The healthy? Harrow would rather avoid them.

X Whilst he proclaims to hate his old home, he still longs for the comfort he used to possess. A comfort many in the group have no concept of. It makes him feel alone in the pain of being apart from his companions still within Altaraz.

X In his current condition, he is not agile. Keeping some muscle, he can defend himself but if there were a moment where he needed to snap his body out of the way, there would be no way he could do it in time.

Mutation(s) :

Upon his apparent infection after being attacked by Alice, Dr. Harrow developed the ability to 'see' injuries. It isn't so much that he can physically view a broken bone through the soft tissue covering, but that he can scan a body and determine the cause of harm. Be it an infection, a broken bone, a torn ligament. Harrow can diagnose anything he can get his hands on.

Perhaps there is room for developing this gift, a way to turn into a method of healing. To suture lacerations with just a wave of his hand. Is it possible? Dr. Harrow certainly doesn't know.

Dr. Harrow must be able to physically touch the person in order to use this ability. He does not know the cure for all diseases and afflictions. He only knows cures or treatments he had studied previously.

Especially in their current state of living, there is little he can do to help the people he diagnoses. If they would just let him back inside Altaraz, he could do so much good. He knows that will never happen and he will exist in a continuous cycle of diagnosing fatal injuries and then taking away their pain forever.

Backstory:

Having been close to Altaraz upon the chaos that erupted in the war, Harrow was quickly brought into the colony of survivors and spent years developing connections. Learning from the best of the best that survived, utilising their limited medical equipment to help those that came from the wastes dehydrated and malnourished. He adored his work, devoted himself to the care of the citizens.

Then came summons from the higher ups, Harrow was to accompany a crew that needed to venture outside the walls for a classified mission. To this day, Harrow does not know what they were seeking, just that they needed a medically trained unit on the crew. So he headed out without question, his home would never cause him harm, he had only ever helped it grow and flourish, they would return his compassion.

They did not.

Weeks went by and the tattered remains of the crew crawled their way to Altaraz’s gates and hollered. Screamed to be let back into the warmth and safety. Harrow had hauled his companion, Alice, across miles to return her to her family. She had a young child she needed to return to. Her leg had been devoured. Harrow knew it was too late, deep down he knew it was pointless, but the look in her doe eyes as she begged him to take her home. It was too much. He couldn’t leave her to die on her own.

They did not open the gates.

After conducting their regular checks on entry, they refused Harrow and his companion re-entry. Condemning them to life outside the walls.

It did not take long for Alice to turn, her arms gripping his own as he fought to keep her off of his body. With a resounding crack of rock on bone, Harrow had caved in her skull.

Dr. Harrow has been outside the walls for three years now, having taken four months to come across Mirielle and her comrades.

Affiliations:

Open

Other:

I know.

Full Name:

Myrtle ‘Mercy’ Larson

Nicknames/Alias:

Mercy

Age:

30

Gender:

Female

Bonded or Outsider? Role?:

Bonded, Executive Officer

Thoughts on the Other Group?:

Irritating, thieving, smug bastards. They crawl around outside their walls and curse those who have been offering sanctuary to survivors. They are jealous of those deemed healthy enough for entry. Envious that Altaraz exists as a paradise amongst the hellfire of disease and bloodshed, that they are not permitted entry to this safe haven.

If they took more than a millisecond to think on the matter, it would be obvious to the outsiders why they were not allowed in. There is so little research on their strange biological reaction to the disease, how do they know they won’t turn one night and infect the entirety of Altaraz? There is no room for risk. No room for error. Any mistake could be fatal to those living under their care. Myrtle would kill to preserve it and has done so many times before.

Appearance :

Personality:

Strengths & Weaknesses:

Backstory:

Affiliations:

Bonded with Rivka - has been for 6 months.

Polik - previously bonded for six years, a supermutt. A complete mix of breeds, looking like a mottled brown border collie crossed with a staffordshire bull terrier. Deceased. Died of old age at 13 years old. Myrtle is highly sensitive on the topic of her previous bonded companion. A word of malice spoken about Polik will result in a sharp uppercut from the right hand of Altaraz.

Other:

Name:

Rivka

Age:

1

Gender:

Male

Species:

Roosevelt's Elk

Thoughts on the Other Group?:

Appearance:

Personality:

Mutation(s):

Enhanced Speed:-

Durability:-

Strengths & Weaknesses:

Backstory:

Affiliations:

Bonded with Myrtle for 6 months.

Other:

Big WIP <3

@ICE WINGS,

Reserved that for you <3

@CrypticMeaning,

Your characters are accepted!

〈 ——— - - - ——— 〉

Quinton Walker

"You're making me angry. You won't like me when I'm angry."

———

Nickname:

Quin, this is the name nearly everyone will you when referring to him. He refers to himself as Quin, introduces himself as Quin and people are often surprised he has another name when they discover he does.

Age:

34 Years Old

Gender:

Male

Bonded or Outsider? Role?:

Bonded, Citizen

Thoughts on the Other Group?:

Quin doesn't particularly like them, that being said, he doesn't hate them. In Quintons eyes they are survivers, everyone who was still alive - including the Bonded - are survivors. That much they have in common. The Outsiders behaviour is intriguing to the man, as he's always been facinate with human behavior and aspects similar to that. Otherwise, he's indifferent to them.

They are all human and they specifically seem to still have the conscious to do good if they desired to. If he ever came across one of its members, he'd show the respect he shows everyone else. Maybe ask a few questions about their living styles and communication but that's all that'd be added to an average conversion.

Appearance:

Height & Weight ⇓

6'3" / 170 lbs

Build ⇓

Like most of the Bonded, he arrived to Altaraz slender and malnourished. He had to work to keep up his weight and strength, and now its really just become a habit. Quinton has a well proportioned body, muscular in all the right places and slender enough to not appear bulky or too intimidating. He could be described as having an inverted triangular body shape, with broad shoulders and chest while having a torso that pinches in slightly. His legs are long and built fine in accordance to how much time he spends working out. At least a couple hours a day if he's not patrolling around the domes outskirts.

Description of Appearance ⇓

He's rugged, in an attractive sort of way. With a dark caramel shade of skin and sculpted facial structure, the man looks like he was pulled from a children's fantasy book. Old scars litter his face, specifically a claw looking mark across the center of his face, over his nose and a scar that resides straight across his left eye. As stated previously, Quinton has an oldtimey sort of handsomeness to him, and a pearly white grin thats made plenty of people swoon in the past. His face is symmetrical in the way that is envious, that paired with the cheekbones and sharp cut jawline makes for a majestic appearance. This mans lips are full and a darker pink color, with two defined peaks on his top lips and an almost pouty looking bottom. His nose is on the stronger side, with a well defined Roman nose that rises into a sort of arch. The tip of his nose is sharp. Quintons brows are dark and sculpted, like the rest of him, and his eyes are filled deep with emotion. They carry a light grey color to them and are striking enough that they're one of the first features you'll notice about him. His hair is thick and dark in color, nearly black. Its kept halfway up in a messy bun, while being styled in a dreaded fashion. He has some dark stubble around his chin and jaw, as well as above his lips.

Style / Fashion ⇓

Hes simple. Black or white tank top and joggers most of the time, however if he is presented with the opportunity to speak respectively to the Captain, he will dress accordingly. And when I tell you this man looks scrumptious in a black blazer. Ugh! Okay, enough with that. When planning to move out of Altaraz for his scouting missions, he can't dress as comfortably. A one piece suit and a gas mask-like head piece are what he wears to remain safe from the radioactive outside. Heavy boots are also often worn but when he's planning to scout further into the territory, he wears lighter running shoes. Pistols and other small weapons are tucked safely within this suit, just in case.

Posture / Movement ⇓

Hes humorous enough to be someone who confidently walks into a room and simply strikes a pose. Modeling in the years before the outbreak hasn't left him it seems. He's quick on his feet when he needs to be, but on an average day he will walk rather slowly and sluggish. He doesn't like getting up from bed, so if he was rudely awoken by his alarm clock he won't be so inclined to get places fast.

Voice / Accent / Speech ⇓

Born and raised in Cambridge, England, Quinton takes on that classic englishman tone. He can easily do impressions of others because while he has this "default accent" of his, he really had to force himself not to loose it while spending so much time around those who didn't have his accent as well. His words are curt and straight to the point, but not in a harsh or assertive way. He speaks smoothly and persuasively.

Personality:

A charming fellow, Quinton has a persuasive and respectful manner about him that draws people in. He's a tease and may come off as a bit cocky the first couple times you interact with him. He's a hopeless flirt, literally with anyone and everyone, he can't help it. But the further you get to know him the more that it'll become apparent that he's really just being friendly. He loves a good chat with a companion other than Munroe. Okay, he doesn't not like conversing with his animal companion... Munroe is simply so serious. He doesn't think he's heard the bear give any more than a subtle nod of his head in response to a joke. Munroe has made it clear that he's there strictly to protect him... Quintons goal in life is to make him at least chuckle.

Quin does harbor a longing for something... more. He has a space that has been empty in his heart ever since younger him realized that his parents had no interest in him. They hadn't loved him. He hadn't loved them. He had never really made any close relationships with anyone other than maybe Munroe... He wants something more. Something to fill that yearning and he's not sure if he wants to follow that or not. Quinton may come off as a chill, humorous man but reality will kick in for him and he'll realize once again that he's missing some thing important.

Backstory:

Quinton was born in a poorer area of Cambridge England. His mother and father really only cared for themselves and the gambling that had brought the family down to that point. Quin learned how to survive on his own, and by the age of eighteen he had ran away. No reports were filed and he would soon learn that his father had succumbed to an over dosage and his mother he been arrested for... however many felonies she had collected over the years. Living on the streets as such a young man was hard, but nothing he wasn't already used to. He knew were food was, where to get clean water, it was shelter that was sometimes the issue. Every so once in a while the boy would find himself sleeping on a park bench, other times in a house that a kind stranger had offered a good nights rest and meal in.

Then it came.

The disease spread quickly through his hometown and through the rest of England and it wasn't long before Quinton was on the move once more. The years leading up to finding his bonded companion and learning about Altaraz seemed to pass by in a blur. He became somewhat numb to the idea of anything up until the point of hope. Now? He works as one of the higher professioned guards in Altaraz. He's doing much better but there's something.... missing.

Affiliations:

Crush - Heh, open.

Significant Other - N/A

Exes - Sure, why not. Pm me.

.

Familial Relations - As far as he's concerned, they all died quite early on. Thankfully, he was never really close to them enough to care. Its harsh, but true.

Friends/Close(r) Affiliates - Open! He needs some buddies to pick on.

Rivals - Ehhh, very unlikely. Pm me though and maybe something can be worked out.

Bonded To... - Munroe

Other:

[Animal Form]

Name:

Munroe

Age:

9 Years Old

Gender:

Male

Species:

Ursus Arctos Horribilis [Grizzly Bear]

Thoughts on the Other Group:

So long as they aren't bothering him or his companion, they won't have a problem.

Appearance:

Munroe is... Intimidating. And that's putting things very simply. Its not just because of his sheer size but how he holds himself. He knows that you know he could easily kill you, and he uses that to his advantage. When on all four legs he stands at 6.8 feet at the shoulder, when rising to his hind legs he's a whopping 9 feet tall. He's hefty when it comes to how much muscle he puts on, he eats a lot and runs a lot of that energy off. He weighs roughly 850 pounds on a regular day, though it may dip down a bit if food isn't supplied regularly. Otherwise, he is let out to hunt outside of the dome.

When it comes to his fur, he's a dark mohagony brown with even darker patches around his paws, chest, and face. Scars litter his pelt and his skin is almost black in color. Munroe has striking eyes, they are a bright yellow, pretty much gold in color. When speaking with his companion, his voice is deep and baritoning, rumbling as he talks. Outwards, he makes grumbles, huffs and puffs, as well as the occasional growl.

Personality:

The opposite of his companion in the way that if angered, theres no holding it back. His outbursts were a problem when the pairs bond was fresh, when Quinton couldn't communicate with Munroe properly. They got easier to determine throughout the years and the more the two got to know each other. Speaking of Quinton, you'd best not speak poorly or act out of line when the boar grizzly is around. He won't take disrespect towards himself or his partner whatsoever.

All of this being said, Munroe isn't a naturally aggressive beast. He is a quiet presence, calculating and observing silently until he needs to step in. He appears rather cold minded to others, and he prefers to keep it that way. They will think twice before deciding to do something stupid that way.

Mutations:

Enhanced Strength - With this, Munroe grew not only in power but in size. He is far larger than an average grizzly bear would be in this area of the wilderness. He has a much greater bite force, while a regular bear of his breed might be able to make a clear break with a single bite, Munroe hardly needs to hold the bone before it completely crumples. A messy fracture.

Invisibility - This comes in helpful when training and/or fighting others. He isn't naturally a stalking kind of predator so something to help with undetection is helpful.

Backstory:

Born into a conservation establishment and never really found his place. Munroe was deemed as "too aggressive" to be handled properly just before the outbreak started. He was malnourished from the sheer level of neglect he had been receiving due to how he showed himself and by the time all the humans had evacuated he was left on the brink of death. Day passed and the grizzly remained caged, along with the few other animals in the establishment. Accepting fate was getting awfully tempting.

Then came the man.

The man came bearing freshly hunted rabbits as well as a sympathetic face. Munroe, on any other occasion, would have been glad to wipe off that all too familiar face. Pity. But something was different. The bear and the man were drawn to each other. The bond. The man introduced himself as Quin, hesitantly placing a fresh kill in front of the bears nose as he lay weak on the ground. He accepted it, wolfing it down in less than a few bites. And so began the journey of the pair.

Affiliations:

Crush - N/A

Mate - N/A

Offspring - None that he knows of.

.

Familial Relations - If any are still living, he hasn't been informed. Possibly open.

Allies - Open!

Companion - Quinton Walker

Rivals - Oh, plenty. Pm me.

Other:

Read the rules <3

Full Name:

Charlotte Ann Hargrove

Nicknames:

While she always introduces herself as Charlotte Ann, she happily answers to Hargrove, Doc, and any variations of Charlotte Ann that people throw at her.

Age:

26

Gender:
Female

Bonded or Outsider? Role?:

Bonded, medical professional.

Thoughts on the Other Group?:

While the fate of the Outsiders is unfortunate, and she truly pities the hardships they endure without the protection of Altaraz's walls, their condition presents a risk to everyone in the city. Perhaps in some distant future, with study and maybe even careful cooperation, a solution can be found that protects the Outsiders without endangering everyone else. But until then, the division is necessary for everyone's protection and must be maintained. And if there could be any doubt whether someone might be infected, well, better safe than sorry.

Appearance:

Charlotte Ann is approximately 5'5" and built like a brick. She's got broad shoulders, arms, thighs, just generally the appearance of someone who could crush a watermelon with one bicep. While her physique originally came from all the haybales she had to toss when she was younger, it now serves to manhandle any particularly belligerent - or unresponsive - patients.

Her skin is heavily sun-tanned from years outside, particularly her face, and she's got no shortage of freckles on her face, arms, and back. Her eyes are hazel, with deep crow's feet in the corners from how much she smiles and laughs. Her hair, once a dark blonde, is fairly sun-bleached at this point, and where she previously had perfect ringlets now it's more of an unruly frizz. She generally ties it back into a ponytail or bun, keeping the underside shaved so she has less hair to manage, and often uses a brightly coloured bandana to help keep it out of her face. She has a permanent slight smile, always looking open and approachable.

She tends to wear heavy-duty cargo pants, sleeveless shirts, a rotating collection of flannels, usually with the sleeves rolled up, and her trusty steel-toed farm boots. She considers it a blessing she can still fit in all the old clothes she was able to bring with her.

Personality:
Outside of any medical setting, she's an absolute sweetheart who can be found sharing a laugh with anyone in the city, exchanging cheery greetings while hauling supplies, or lending a listening ear to anyone in need. As far as she's concerned, looking after the city medically also means preserving morale, and that requires friendliness and comradery. She also tends to be competitive, in a good-natured way. She's not shy about physical contact, often giving people pats on the shoulder that are really quite a bit harder than they look, giving people a hearty shove as a form of endearment, and suffocating innocent victims in truly impressive bear hugs.

Inside a medical setting, though, Charlotte Ann is a different beast. Pratically a tyrant. She'll manhandle people who show the slightest hint of being uncooperative, has no compunctions about lecturing people for pretending to be fine, and generally tolerates no nonsense or deviation from her standards. She definitely takes the tough love approach to those in her care, though the love part is somewhat lacking when it comes to anyone who doesn't follow her instructions. She keeps a colour-coded list of people who try to leave before she thinks they're ready, try to hide their problems from her, or fail to follow her instructions about getting enough rest.

While she tends to be loud and boisterous a lot of the time, she almost never raises her voice in anger. In fact, she's largely perfected the "I'm not mad, just really disappointed" spiel at this point, which seems to work better for getting people in line. Of course, the aggressive use of pet names certainly adds to the impression of a particularly disappointed mother, which only makes it more effective.

Strengths and Weaknesses:

Charlotte Ann's got no compunctions about blood or injury or disease - she's seen it all before. She remains seemingly unfazed in even the most stressful of situations, able to remain outwardly steady and calm even when her heart is racing with adrenaline. She's remarkably adept when it comes to practical medicine, if not the theoretical aspects, and equally adroit with all manner of medical tools. And she's quite the people-person most of the time, which is always helpful for a medical professional.

However, she's no fighter. She may be strong, especially for her size, but unless the foe can be downed in a bare-knuckle brawl, she won't have much luck. And despite her frequent lectures to people about how they shouldn't hide injury or illness, she's prone to overworking and undersleeping without intervention. While she's happy to take and follow orders, she has a tendency to become prickly and defensive if she perceives any disrespect from authority, particularly in regards to her knowledge or skills, whether there is any disrespect meant or not.

Backstory:

Charlotte Ann Hargrove grew up in rural North Carolina as the only child to two large animal veterinarians. Ever since she was able to follow instructions, she's been slinging haybales, vaccinating cows, suturing goats and helping mares foal. Though she had no formal veterinary education, she had plenty of practical experience.

When the virus swept through their area, her parents survived for a while. The three of them helped provide shelter and medical assistance to their community to the best of their ability. But that didn't last forever, and after a supposedly uninfected person brought the virus inside the gates, her parents succumbed to the disease shortly thereafter. With that, Charlotte Ann was on her own, foraging and trading medical assistance for food and shelter along the way.

When she raided an abandoned zoo one day, searching for any dried foods, stored water, durable fabrics or, if she was particularly lucky, medicines to trade, she was surprised by a long, furry creature that burst out of a hole and scurried into her clothes, seeking warmth. Though their initial meeting was chaotic, Charlotte Ann and the genet, Kip, Bonded.

The two made their way to Altaraz, where Charlotte Ann's dependable, easygoing nature and medical knowledge quickly endeared her to the population, eventually becoming the city's medical professional.

Affiliations:
Bonded to Kip.

No familial affiliations.

Friends: Open!

Crush: Open, PM me.

Significant Other: N/A

Unlikely to have rivals, but feel free to PM me and discuss.

Other:
I know.

Name:

Kip

Age:

7

Species:

Rusty-Spotted Genet

Thoughts on the Other Group?:

Anyone who poses a risk to his life of comfort in Altaraz should be avoided at all costs. If that means those people have to suffer out in the wildnerness, then that's unfortunate. For them, not him. He's where he belongs, safely within civilised lands, with all the warmth and food he requires.

Appearance:
Like all genets, Kip is ridiculously long, like the offspring of a cat and a particularly belligerent spaghetti noodle. As is typical for the species, he's a light greyish-brown, with darker brown spotted stripes and a crest of elongated, upright fur along his spine. He's remarkably well groomed, with a glossy coat, and clearly well-fed.

Personality:
An utter menace of a creature, Kip can be found clinging to the back of Charlotte Ann's flannels and chittering angrily at passers-by, popping out of ducts at inopportune moments with the sole intent of surprising his victim into dropping their food, and eating a truly astonishing variety of insects within view of whoever he thinks would be made most uncomfortable by his choice of lunch. However, at his core, Kip is a deeply vain and lazy creature who wishes for nothing more than complete comfort for himself. And Charlotte Ann, but she's the second priority. His own comfort is more important. A good sunbeam, a safe place to nap, more food than he knows what to do with - that's the dream.

Mutations:

Enhanced smell, which he mostly uses to track down errant bugs for his next snack, but which Charlotte Ann insists on pestering him into using to identify infected wounds, illnesses, and all manner of other things she claims are important, and hearing, which is primarily used to avoid the people most likely to scold him for being a menace to the public.

Enhanced speed, which is highly necessary for removing himself from situations he started. There's no shame in running from a fight you can't finish, even if its entirely your fault.

Strengths and Weaknesses:

He's long, he's agile, he's quick, he's got keen senses and a good instinctual sense of danger. He has, at most, one brain cell. He's completely unmotivated by anything except his own comfort or entertainment, and has incredibly limited survival instincts thanks to being raised in captivity.

Backstory:

Kip was born and raised in a zoo, living in domesticated bliss, with food, fresh water and shelter provided to him and his every whim catered to. Needless to say, he did not take it well when the zoo was abandoned. Luckily for him, Charlotte Ann's arrival meant not only a source of warmth, but also a servant who would provide him with all the food and companionship he could desire.

Affiliations:
Bonded to Charlotte Ann Hargrove.

Familial Relations: presumed deceased.

Crush/Mate: N/A, he could never love anything as much as he loves himself.

Friends: Open. PM me.

Rivals: Absolutely open, he is an unapologetic problem. PM me.

Other:
I know. Charlotte Ann often subjects people to "Kip Sniff Tests" wherein an uncomfortably long creature is dangled in front of your face, staring into your eyes with clear malicious intent for far too long while sniffing exaggeratedly. Apparently this has a purpose.

@Meander,

Accepted <3