https://s26.postimg.org/4ry39s6xl/untitled_drawing_by_seas_of_halcyon-dbjy76b.png
(Bydlo drew this.. I bought this amazing character+ the bio/background info)
name ➸ Achilles
nickname(s) ➸ n.a
gender ➸ Male
age ➸ 4
appearance ➸ Muscular stature, Achilles is a bit taller than average for his breed. His chest is 'barrel' like, and broad. His fur consists of blue and white, blue as the main color, and white splotched on as underparts, etc. His paws are large, ears are cropped, and his tail is undocked. Achilles has scars littering his body, along his front legs, chest, ears, and neck/face. He appears as an aggressive dog, but he's as kind as can be, he loves puppies, and he loves others like no other. He hates to harm other dogs, but if he has to.. he will, even then, he barely harms them, and if he's defending another dog or himself, he will inflict painful wounds.
personality ➸ Headstrong: ever since Achilles was a puppy, he has never lost his level head. He thinks clearly, and doesn't let emotions riddle his thoughts. Determined: as a pup, Achilles grew up determined to survive, and he still is. Now he has less of an energetic presence like he was before he was tossed into the dog pits. And now, he will harm other dogs, even if he hates it, but only if they have a reason to be harmed.. usually he only does so to protect others. Loyal: you can count on this dog to be there for you. He is compassionate and loyal, he makes sure he's around to help. And if Achilles isn't there, he will get there as soon as possible. Kind/caring: A loving dog, Achilles loves pups, and he's gentle. Despite his rugged past, he can't just get rid of his innocence/soft side.
breed ➸ American Staffordshire Terrier
family? ➸ n.a (unknown)
other ➸ History/bio (made by Bydlo)
As a young pup, Achilles learned to put all of his trust in humans. He had to; from the moment he was born it was apparent that he had something wrong with him. He was different from all the others and it wasn't until the litter began to stand and walk that that illness became apparent. Achilles was a swimmer puppy, unable to lift himself off the floor, unable to use the muscles in his legs. He floundered about on the hardwood floors, wagging his tail excitedly and yipping at his playful litter mates.
Thankfully, the disease was curable. Achilles was babied over by the two humans, a male and a female of middle age. They knew how to take care of him. Before he was four months old, he could walk properly and was the strongest of the group. He had learned patience from all those days being poked, prodded, and exercised.
He spent his youth in the warm house, and watched the seasons go by, often from the window that looked out across the fields. His litter mates, especially his blue-eyed sister, teased him relentlessly about his affliction with the window. Achilles laughed along and returned his gaze to the distant forest that stood tall on the horizon line. Something about it pulled him in, made him want to smash the glass and take off.
He was restless.
One day, when the pups were around six months old, the owners began selling them to other humans. Achilles thought nothing of it, although the number of guests increased wildly. They came, looked at the pups, talked, and left. Achilles was the first to be sold. Their mother, a pitbull named Shenzi, had warned them that this day would come. And so it did.
Achilles showed his new human the same love as he had showed his previous owners. Strangely, the man ignored the wagging tail and picked up the pup painfully by the scruff of his neck. Yelping fearfully, he was tossed into a crate in the back of the truck that smelled of urine and other dogs. There was no food or water.
This was only the start of a brutal time in his life. Achilles would obviously be a very strong dog, and the man knew that. Achilles was given disgusting 'vitamin soup'-- a mixture of all sorts of unnatural things that fed the muscles and made a dog more aggressive. As he grew, Achilles was beaten, strangled, forced to run for many hours on a dog treadmill, and taught to be hostile to everyone and everything except his owner.
Soon, his first fight came around-- unsure of what to expect, Achilles stuck close to his owner. The ring was shabby and crude, a few stacks of strong hay forming a circle. Achilles was led into an edge of the ring and the leash was detached from his neck. The man held him by his chest as another dog, a fearsome rottweiler mix, entered the ring in a similar fashion. This dog had seen his fair share of fights. He snarled and barked, not wasting energy on lunging away from his owner. A steady stream of spittle fell from his white fangs, and scars marred his weathered face.
Achilles tried to back away but he was given a harsh smack on the back. It stung but it snapped him out of the daze. Three seconds later, there was a yell, and both handlers let their dogs go.
Achilles played the defense, twisting around the ring like a hare hanging by it's leg, caught in a trap. The rottie payed no attention to this and took every opportunity to get in a quick bite. In less than two minutes, the rottie was hardly bleeding and Achilles was stumbling around with a red stained pelt. Survival instinct gripped him, and the next time the other dog lunged, Achilles bounded out of the way and twisted around in a half circle. He leapt onto the larger dogs back and latched onto the side of it's neck. Blood spurted. Achilles had hit a vein, the most important one.
As the other dog lay dieing on the dusty floor, shouts rose up. Money was traded, curses were made. Achilles felt the guilt rise in him-- he had killed another dog, and he would never forget the look in that creatures eyes.
He vowed to find a way out of that hellish world. To do so, he would have to win as many fights as he could before escaping; either that, or die in the ring, or lose a fight and be shot in the head.
So he went on to have a winning steak often unseen. Achilles learned how to harm a dog until it gave up; he hated killing.
His face became marred with scars and his eyes became guarded, but he never quite lost that patience and compassion he had learned as a pup. Not even the pit could beat it out of him. Soon, he found a way to escape.
Achilles took to the streets. It was a lonely life; other dogs feared his battle-scarred face and the smart glint in his eye, and humans reacted quite the same way. A battle-hardened pitbull and a sweet-looking border collie just aren't looked at the same way.
Achilles soon made friends, though, on the streets. He never could bring himself to trust another human, but he bonded well with the street dogs in the community.