[✔] [Accepted] Alt Account App- Deco

[DecoLamb 959]

What’s the name of the Minecraft account you're applying for?: -  DecotheLamb

What's your MAIN Minecraft Account name?:- DecoLamb

 

Do you agree to follow the rules on your new account?: Yes

You understand you can not be on both of these accounts at once?: yes

You understand that if one account is banned, so will the other(s)?: Yep

 

 

In-Character Information

 

Now you actually make your character - be creative but stay reasonable! Make sure they make sense and that they follow lore. Try to come up with a character that you actually want to play.

 

What’s your character called?: -  Chirr

 

What race are they (and sub-race)?: - Dark Elf

 

What sex are they?: - Female

 

How old are they?: - 35

 

Give us a brief description of their life - their story, childhood, family: - 

 

Eriya was born an average little thing. Just a small little squabbling babe. Common everything, never really stood out for anything, quite forgettable really. But that’s probably why she’s ended up how she has. Her parents were lower class merchants, traveling back and forth on the road, peddling small trinkets and things, a megar but decent life. Eriya rather liked it, sitting on the cart as the family donkey tugged it along, pausing now and again to make conversation or a sale.

Then the fire na-

I mean. A storm rolled in. Yes. That’s right. -ahem-. Normally, she liked them, the pilt plat of raindrops atop the wagontop, the splash of the donkey’s hooves in puddles, the squish of mud beneath the wheels. The lullaby from the sky to clean everything as it drew her into sleep. Simple, childish dreams wandering through her youthful mind, the seven year old’s mind. Calm, quiet, ordinary. The first heavy crack jarred her, shaking the cart and her, wiping away the world of dreams. She heard her mother scream, jars and boxes in the card scraping together as they tilted against her. Her father’s yell reached her ears, her hair slipping over her face as the tilting sensation increased, cold wind shocking her awake. Her eyes turned to the canvas top, or where it once was, now flipped away in the wind as the cart slid down the steep, wet hillside. All she could do was take a sharp breath as the ground rushed up to meet her, all the world going silent as blackness surrounded her.

She woke to pain and cold, curled in the muck beneath the underbrush, her skin scratched and scraped from the thin broken branches. Sitting up, blinking at the harsh light, she did what any hurt child would do.

Cry.

Screaming and wailing, calling for her mother, her father, even the dumb donkey. But nothing. Just quiet. She wasn't aware yet that her parents lay dead, crushed beneath the wood only a few feet away in the scrambled brush, the pack animal long gone into the forest. Eventually her voice reached the ears of a passerby, a mother herself, along with her rather large family. But, they were not human. Nor elven, nor dwarven. Not even orcish. But lupine. The small girl recoiled in fear at the large animals as they neared, leaning over her with canine curiosity. Curled on her side and whimpering, she inadvertently spoke in their language, a motion of submission and fear.

Animals have always been well known for helping humans that are injured in one way or another. Many say they can sense it. Maybe that is why they did not devour the easy, tender little meal before them.

Slowly as she trembled, the large female came closer, puffing lightly into her ear as it sniffed, wet nose drawing a giggle after several moments. One by one the rest of the pack investigated the rather odd looking ‘pup’ trembling in the brush, not much bigger than their own younger members. Over time, they would return to her, again and again as she whimpered in the brush, dragging back scraps of meat for the weak creature. Feeding her, watching over her. Their young trying to draw her into play. Before one would notice, she found herself sleeping half buried in the heavy furred bodies of wolves, slowly coming to understand their metaphorical language, mimicking the pups and younger members. Eventually becoming, to them, a rather deformed and ugly pup. She learned to move low to the ground, similar to them, balanced on the flats of her hands and balls of her toes, knees brushing the grass as she moved in a long, clumbsy gait. In the years to come she would grow accustomed it, able to move with a smooth, wild elegance. Head high and muscles sleek, slipping in and out of the underbrush the same as they. Her voice raising in canine song, the same as they. Her gaze gleaming and disant, the same as they. Her mind wild and free, that of a wolf, the same as they.

For twelve years, maybe more, maybe less, she was beside them. Time was irrelevant. There was no need to count hours, days, months, years. There was no need to tell time, no need to speak words, no need to stand upright. All there was, is, and ever would be, was the pack. Family. Loyalty. Love pure and unconditional. She would follow, lagging behind due to the limits of her body, but persevering. Moving from one den to another, watching and growing, remaining beside them as they eventually came to their most recent den, one settled down between the two cities of her own blood born kin, but she might never realize this.

In her mind, she was wolf, same as they.

Cut forward to now.. She's managed to become semi-civilized and is now living in Ker'lomi with other dark elves, under their care. Given a new name by them, Chirr'on, she slowly but surely is on her way to becoming a fully humanized productive member of the community

 

What are they like (personality)?: - Annoyingly happy and bouncy, always living in the moment. She holds no real grudges, but often avoids those who have done her or those she is attached to harm.

 

What are their ambitions?: - To pursue hugs and snacks

 

Do they have any special skills?: - Nope

 

What are their weaknesses?: - Thunder, anythign requiring thumbs to open

 

Give us a description of how they look (not a screenshot yet!)?: -  A tall, slim elven woman covered in old scars. Her hair hangs in a frizzled mess around her heart shaped face, her clothing loose and dirtied. Her hands are calloused and curled, her posture rather odd.. She stands on the balls over her toes and her hands in a quadrupedal stance, mimicking the movement of an animal. The same bestial, empty feel emanated from her amber eyes, as though all civility has been lost to her. Around her neck hangs a smile collar bearing a rounded tag, "Chirr'on, Return to Jiub"

 

Anything else you want to say about them?: - Nope Just wanna get my accounts switched.

 

Please give us a screenshot of your character’s skin: -

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