{¢Õ}{---Cry to Heaven.}

[ithildin]

Best seen on junky old computer that messes up fonts.

FWAH.

Though the nightmares should be over__ [/color][/font] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ [/size]

Full Name: Sybelius Froederick Wolfgang (|333)

Alias: Fu (Come on, go ahead and ask. 83)

Werewolf Alias: Fèndere (Split in Latin)

Gender: Male

Appearance || Actual Age: 16, 227

Hair Color and Style: A ragged mess of hair rests upon him like a matted, dark cloud. It's naturally wavy, and through the years of him not maintaining it, it has grown into an unkkempt, wild main of black. A grey shock of hair falls over his right eye along with some black.

Human Eye Color || Werewolf Eye Color: Blue grey. When in Werewolf Form, sinceh he is Uncontrollable, his eyes are Moonblind. (Whitenesss.) HOoOplah.

Eye Burn Marking Description: An elongated, shaky cross over both eyes.


Human height || Werewolf height: 5' 7", 4' 2" at shoulder.

Pack: Twilight

Pack Status: Omega.

Moon Phase: Waxing Gibbous (Mostly luminous, with a sliver of shadow. When the moon is recessing.)

[Un]controlled?: Uncontrolled

HHH: Humiliation

Allergies: Lead, Black Ivory (Also known as charred bone. 0-o)

Repellents: Holly, cotton thistle, ivy, wolfsbane.

Special Skill: He's alcoholic! |D

But other than that, he has an uncanny sense of hearing. Loud noises and high-pitched noises drive him completely berserk.

Human Physical Description: Sybel has always been small and sickly, with gaunt pallid skin and pointed features. His eyes are hollow, and reflect his emotional sickness. He's average height, skinny, and not that great to look at. The only Werewolf features discernable on him would maybe be his slightly elongated canines, and the canine-like look around his features His blue eyes always tend to be staring out in the distance.

Werewolf Physical Description: In werewolf form, he looks like a giant emaciated Irish Wolfhound. His dark black fur hangs off his slight frame in long dregs. Streaks of gray shock down his back in a sort of man. His muzzle is sleander and brittle looking, and his haunches are noticeably narrow.

Personality:

Is this how it is to be torn in two?

During the beginnings of his life, Sybel lived as one who tried to be as holy as could be. His morals were strong, his thoughts black and white... But after he was bitten, he lived in constant struggle with himself. There became a new part of him, a fresh, sinister beast that gnawed at his consciousness and ripped at his thought. His whole life was destroyed by his internal conflict. He couldn't trust himself to be right anymore, and he didn't trust himself around other people... especially after he found the taste of their flesh to be addictive.

He lived in isolation for many years until he joined the Twilight pack, and during those years he still hadn't been able to provide a balance with himself. He's split in two with a constant struggle between his dark side and his sensitive side. He barely sleeps at night, and has many times bordered lunacy. He actually joined a pack because he thought it would help him to become more... sane.

He's barely talks, and in short spouts.

Depending on luck, you could either find him laying in grass looking at clouds or find him lucked in a room, laughing. But at what?

History:

Sybel was born December 17th, 1780, into a wealthy family of extremely devout religious zealots. His own survival was a miracle, because he had been born 3 weeks early, and with a twin, called Gengiveve. They lived a happy life for a short while, but as soon as Sybel could speak his first word his father, named Horus and also the town priest, began teaching him the strict religious ways. As a present he initiated his oldest into the teachings of religion with a small wooden cross necklace.

And Sybel excelled.

He was known as a slice of heaven on earth: pure as the new fallen snow, as unsinful and dainty as a rose petal. The years flew by and the gossip spread of a miraculous boy, who spoke so eloquently and righteously hat even a demon could be swayed to the good ways. People flocked to hear his speeches, and his father was elated in this flurry of activity.

Sybel never really thought of himself as great, now at age 13. In his mind, he was boring, antisocial, sickly, and as sinful as everyone else. How could they marvel at him so much, when he to drank from the Grail of Foolishness? He too, was merely a pawn, a figment of the Gods real wishes. A blight upon the landscape, living only for the afterlife.

During these years Gengiveve was left in darkness. Her brother, older by only around 3 minutes, was the limelight of her mother's and father's heart. How she longed for their love and admiration, how she wished to be as famous as Sybel! Even if it was infamy! And, when she was 13, a chance came to smite her overpopular brother forever.

When Sybel reached his sixteenth birthday, the festivities were glamorous. His mother baked him fresh cherry pies to share with his few friends, and his father had lavished enough money on him for him to get his own horse and carriage. Oddly enough, he never saw his twin that day, but that didn't bother him that much. She often disappeared for days at a time for at least three years. He was also looking forward to the night for his quirky sister to be of much importance anyway. Tonight, his mother and father were taking him on a ride in his new carriage.

Gengiveve was waiting in the bushes down the dark road, her friend panting beside her. Tonight was going to be the night she would show her family what /she/ was made of. Licking her fangs she heard the clacking of hooves coming down the old brick road, and her werewolf companions muscles tense...

The last thing she saw before leaving in the night was her wonderful brother Sybel, a fresh bit mark in his leg, with blood leaking down his grimy face as he sobbed by the bodies of his parents.


LALA. After that he lived years of solitude, watching the years pass as time flew onward and gave up the small wooden cross to a pond. And when the calling of werewolves to gather came, he went quietly.

*Attire: Sybel dresses in a mix of Old English/ Modern. Tight dark wash skinny jeans hug his thin legs, while a he wears a ruffled white tee on top. A black with and white outlined over coat goes over the shirt, with a high collar. Usually, in the unkempt manner, one side of his coat collar is popped with the other isn't. A thick black colar hangs around his neck, and some neon orange fingerless gloves add some pzazz.


*Weapons: Throwing needles in this pouch on his pants, he rarely ever uses them.


*Accessories: A fat, bulky black collar around his throat. No studs or anything, just an awesome buckle. A special phrase of his is inscribed on the inside. He also wears orange fingerless gloves... because he likes being cool. Also he has an Ear cuff, shaped like a dragon and with chains hanging off. He keeps the color and cuff when he transforms..



*Theme: Objects in the Rear View Mirror (May Appear Closer than They Are) - Meat Loaf

The skies were pure and the fields were green
And the sun was brighter than its ever been
We were ready for adventures and we wanted them all
And there was so much left to dream

and so much time to make it real

_ _ __Some other terrors are still in tact.[/color] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ [/size]

Ill hear that ugly coarse and violent voice
And then he grabs me from behind and then he pulls me back

NOTE: I like sub notes.

See any mistakes? Tell me!

[.:Mink:.]

ACCEPTEDWEWTOMG.