Virgil

[Benny]

Main:
Name: Virgil
-- English name derived from Latin Virgilius, possibly meaning "flourishing."
Gender: Male
Species: Timber/grey wolf
Age: Five or so
Height: 2'7''
Weight: 110 lbs
Pack: None
Parents: Aleks and Adelaide
Siblings Konstantin (male) and Lydia (female)
Mate: None
Offspring: None

Personality:
Virgil could be considered a particularly hard to decipher character, frequently described as a 'locked door' when it comes to socializing and sharing. Outwardly, he is aloof and distant, tending to give off a rather brooding and almost melancholic aura, and often rubs off to others as being cold and uncaring. It's not an intentional impression on his part, but by nature having a rather quiet disposition, Virgil is disinclined to be chatty company. Most of the time he does not quite seem to be able to find the precise words that express his grasp of the situation at hand - which results in either an awkward, rather terse comment, or something eerily poetic and worth a double take. Most of what he knows of life is fighting (battles against prey and against other loners) and hunting, and he seems confused by his own repertoire of knowledge that continues to pop up unexpectedly, usually during conversations.

Though he could not be described as a brilliant mastermind, Virgil has all the smarts he needs for one in his station - essentially, an ability to survive, to fight, and think on his toes. He's quite sharp, if more so in a practical, doing rather than talking sort of way, possessing an oddly analytical grasp of things, almost like a soldier. He does things because he must, because they are ingrained in his very moral fibre, not a feeling and not a thought but a compulsion; does not waste time, does not dawdle, simple acts and reacts - such is natures way.

But for all his outward ambiguity, Virgil is anything but a white knight of stoicism.

There are no morals for him, no codes of honour, no lists of priestliness: everything is black and white, cold and starkly defined, here or not here, a soldier's simplicity. Virgil is not a hero, nor is he a villain: instead he lies calmly in the greys of anti-heroism, morals clouded, his methods often twisting through darker paths, yet somehow always striving for a kindly outcome despite this. He seems a newborn in this world, a strange being testing the boundaries, curious and wide-eyed, sometimes asking questions, questing - as if he has simply forgotten how to behave. For example, if he were to take a life, he would simply ask "why?" when met with shock and sorrow and anger; many concepts of good and bad are disturbingly alien.

Not much else is known about the depths of his other personality aspects, and being a rather mysterious creature, Virgil keeps strictly to himself.

Appearance:
Has the general appearance of being a rather lived-in creature, with shaggy, scruffy fur, especially around the neck and shoulders, and a rather ragged looking build typical of most rogue, adventure faring wolves. Though his face looks weathered and grizzled by small nicks and scratches (especially about the nose), Virgil could perhaps be considered a handsome beast, having a strong muzzle and bold features. He rarely smiles or even snarls, and usually wears a rather brooding expression touched with slight sorrow, being prone to more subtle changes in mood than loud, expressive ones. Virgil is richly furred with various shades of warm grey-brown; a pale grey tan dapples his face, throat, chest, belly, paws and tail-tip, while the darker black-brown tips his ears and dapples his neck and face in various patches, as well as forms a dorsal stripe across his back. Pale, moon-yellow eyes tend to stand out rather sharply against such a dark background.

His most memorable traits are the harpoon-shaped marking on his muzzle, the odd chip in his left ear, and a slight limp in one leg.

History:
Not much of Virgil's history is known, even to himself. It's thought he grew up in a small, family-based pack but was later chased out of it with his siblings by his mother at an adequate age. Not much else is known, other than he's been an amnesiac for some time now, and possibly had a different personality before whatever incident occurred to make him such. Having been a lone wolf for much of his adult life, there is little to no understanding of most social graces in Virgil's head, and much like a small child, he is constantly re-learning the concepts of morality and "good."

Theme Song

Wilde Lager - Rome

WE’RE CLUBBING TRAITORS IN GREEN SUMMER FIELDS

REALITY IS CHANGING COLOUR

ALL THE NATION’S SAD SWEETNESS

IS FLOWING FROM THEIR EYES

AND KNEADED INTO TIME

THE SUN IN OUR EYES AND THE RAIN ON OUR BOOTS

AS BLACK AS OUR GIFT TO THE WORLD

IN THIS WARM BATH OF BLACK BLOOD

WE WOULD GIVE OUR SKIN FOR A BEAUTIFUL DRUM

WE’RE CHASING TRAITORS THROUGH GREEN SUMMER FIELDS

ALL THE WAY BACK ACROSS THE WATERS

AND WE WOULD DO JUST ABOUT ANYTHING

JUST TO TRANSLATE THIS VOID INTO SUBSTANCE

WANTING TO DAUB TIME OVER

WITH THICK COLOURS

IN THIS SULTRY HEAT

THIS STIFLING FEVER HEAT

WE ARE TENDER YOUNG GODS

LOVE AND DESPAIR LOCKED IN AN EMBRACE

TWO WILTED FLOWERS BLACK AND GREEN

LOVE AND DESPAIR LOCKED IN AN EMBRACE

TRUTH CHANGED ITS SMELL AS IT AGED

IN THE SWEAT OF THE AUGUST DAYS

IN THE SUMMER OF SURRENDER

IN THE SUMMER OF SURRENDER