Delaya Jagson

[Delaya Jagson]

.:And I Don't think you Know Me.Xx_______________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _

D E L A Y A ^- Jagura Jagson

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"It's just the natural order of things."

Face claim: Nikolaj Coster-Waldau

[ Click here for wolf picture ]


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[Thirty-five // Five]

[Male]

[Straight]

[Wolf]

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"Delaya's features are well defined with a strong angular jawline almost perpetually darkened with five-o'clock shadow and bold nose only slightly crooked, lending a rugged air to his otherwise handsome face. As a man, his skin is fair though lightly creased with experience, hair a dirty tousled blond often with matching stubble. The mystery of his unusual violet eyes is guarded by an intimidating brow and disarming smile. At six feet tall, Delaya's build is strong and fit but without the bulk or definition of an athlete. His movements and posture vary between two oddly dissimilar comfort zones, as often erect and graceful as swaggered or slouched, struggling to find balance between his noble nature and wild upbringing.

Delaya dresses his human form for comfort; t-shirts, hoodies, and jeans all standard fare with the occasional leather jacket or collared shirt thrown in for flare. His appearance may be noticeably more or less disheveled in correlation to how long it has been since he maintained the illusion. When truly himself, Delaya's wolf body is lean but powerful, blonde coat masking much of his canine figure. His eyes are the same strange violet, even more out of place here, marring the otherwise natural lupine features."

xX.More than Just a Pretty Face:

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"While he may often appear laid-back and content, Delaya's mind is constantly in motion. Charismatic as well as cunning, friendliness is hardly expended without potential gain in mind. While no stranger to physical fights, he prefers less direct methods, toying with thoughts and emotions. He can be cruelly sarcastic at times, though his words are often saccharine and served with a smile. Though fairly in control of his temper, when it does snap it happens suddenly and sometimes unexpectedly, at times with an intensity that causes some to question his sanity.

Delaya does not prefer to fight when a matter may be settled with artfully arranged words, but his pride and ego have a tendency to fuel a taste for violence when challenged. If pushed into a more heated situation, that ferocious lost-temper side comes out in him and he can become very desperate and vicious, his judgment not as clear in his fury. He finds no shame in backing away from a fight if he knows he can return later with odds stacked more highly in his favor to win.

Sometimes visited by strange dreams and visions, he has accepted theses as gifts, glimpses of the past or future to be interpreted and used to guide his path. He maintains a strong belief that wolves are the supreme species, looking down upon all others, especially humans. The fact that humans, especially the Nobility, remain the dominant power in current times both amuses and infuriates him, as well as inspires Delaya to conspire against them in hopes that wolves will once again rule in their rightful place. He is fascinated by ancient myths and histories, especially by the stories of flower maidens and Paradise."

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[Likes: control, history, philosophizing, flowers, admiration, mind games, unique things]

[Dislikes: boredom, arguing, losing, being talked down to, humans]

[Strengths: Intelligence and Perseverance]

[Weaknesses: Temper and Ego]

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__________________________I Don't think that They'd Understand

"For as long as he could remember, Delaya had always been... different. Maybe it was his crazed outbursts, or lack of parents, or haunting visions, or mysterious amethyst eyes, but things had been strange from the very beginning. His first memory was waking to find himself alone, resting on a patch of the most beautiful divine-smelling flowers. This in itself wasn't strange, but the stark contrast of crumbling trees and scorched earth that surrounded his tiny paradise made it obvious something was amiss. The forest had burned to the ground, but here was a blonde pup, confused and alone but nonetheless alive and unharmed, in the middle of it all. The child was scared and wan to leave the patch of life for the death outside, hardly old enough to take care of himself, and so he did what most children would do: he cried. He whimpered and howled, and when he grew tired he would find comfort in the flowers that would sway sweetly in front of his drooping eyes, lulling him to sleep. Eventually his plaintive pleas attracted the attention of fellow wolves, a family with young pups of their own who took pity and adopted him into their fledgling pack.

The next chapter of his life took him away from that place, raised along with half a dozen brothers and sisters to be a proper young wolf. He learned the ways of the wild, how to hunt and read nature's signs, and also the ways of the humans. Delaya always found it perplexing that there were these rules he and his siblings were expected to follow without question: avoid the humans, stay out of their way. From what he had seen, humans were weak; shouldn't they be the ones to stay out of his way? His unpopular opinions only served to widen the rift that was slowly growing between Delaya and his adoptive family. He was already something of an outcast, so obviously visually different with his purple eyes and pale coat where the others sported darker hues, his peers were always quick to point out. Teasing, paired with his short temper, got him into trouble more than a few times. Add to the mix his non-traditional interests, talk of strange visions, and nightmares that would wake everyone with the sound of his screaming, and it was clearly only a matter of time before he struck off on his own. But before the adolescent left to make his own way, his mother instilled in him words of confidence that would shape his life:

Yes, you're different, but that's not a bad thing. I knew from the moment I saw you, you were special. Destiny has big plans for you, I'm sure of it. You were chosen to live, just as we were chosen to find you. That might sound silly, but I believe it's the truth. You see things that no one else sees, with those beautiful eyes. You have a gift. I know it's hard, not everyone understands, but that doesn't mean you should give up. Be who you are, and don't let anyone think less of you for it. Keep your head high, Delaya. Be proud of the wolf I've watched you become, and know that I, too, am proud of you.

Life would lead Delaya on a meandering journey, teaching him various lessons along the way. He was interested in humans and their culture, learned to read and live among them, though never abandoning his natural instincts. His favorite bit of new knowledge came from the Book of the Moon: "From the Great Spirit was born The Wolf and Man became his messenger." It strengthened his belief that human's were inferior. Wolf came first. Humans claim to be superior but they are inferior, invaders. It's unnatural. Balance has to be restored somehow. What he lacks in a detailed plan, Delaya makes up in determination and belief. He hopes to perhaps convince others to join his cause, to restore wolves to their rightful reigning place of predatory power, driven by the feeling that maybe this is what he was meant to do. Little does he know, it is his past, a former life, that has cursed him with his so-called gift, and only by repeating the past will his vision become the new future. But how could the rebellious wolf ever guess that he was once himself one of those Nobles he now regards with such disdain? An impossible link to the Noble bloodline, the lost son of Jagura, granted a second chance by his beloved lunar flowers."