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Description

SAINT'...You're talking to a goddamn god..."

. .

~x~

Basic Information
Name: Saint
Nickname(s): 'Whatever you like, babydoll'
Gender: Stag
Age: 12
Year of Birth: 757 of the New Age
Height: 12.2hh
Build: Medium-heavy
Phenotype: Blood bay winter roan with max partially restricted smoky fawn
Genotype: Ee/Aa/nRnW/fwsfws/rzrz
Eye Colour: Brown
Design Sheet:

Sire:
Warrior | NPC | Deceased
A strong, elderly stag with a deep-seated need to prove himself worthy and protect everything he loved. He was a firm yet loving father, always willing to teach his son everything he knew and dote upon his beloved mate, always reminding her just how blessed he felt that she had chosen to stick by him up until her last moments. After his mate passed away and he learned his son had gone missing, the old stag died of a broken heart.
Dam:
Herbalist | NPC | Deceased
The spitting image of her son. Loving and kind-hearted, yet still fueled by the strength of a proper Blackwood doe. She was fast, agile and able to hold her own against anything life threw at her. She fell for her mate at a young age and never had any reason to leave him for he was, in her eyes, the perfect man. It saddened her that they did not have a whole horde of children but she did not see this as weakness in either of them and merely took it as a sign from Uir that their herd's need outweighed their wish to become parents. But when her child finally came she was head over heels. She passed, old and happy, mere weeks after her son graduated to become a fully fledged warrior.

Bloodline: 100% Blackwood
Magic Type: Black
Sexuality: Pansexual (gender does not matter to him but it is more personality)

Voice actor: Jeffrey Dean Morgan (swearing warning!)
Theme song(s): music.amazon.co.uk/user-playli…

Skill Points
Speed: 4 [Basic Level] (Build Cap: 15 points max)
Stamina: 10 [Medium Level]
Strength: 10 [Medium Level]

Magic:
[Inborn] Possession: 10 [Medium Level]
[Learned] Necromancy: 17 [Medium Level]
Herbs: 0 [Basic Level]
Crafting: 0 [Basic Level]

Experience: 0

Breakdown
+1 speed - base bonus
+4 stamina - base bonus
+5 strength - base bonus
+6 stamina - starter bonus
+5 strength - starter bonus

+10 Possession token fawnlings.deviantart.com/notes…
+10 Necromancy token fawnlings.deviantart.com/notes…

Why they faces look so E-M-O?
+1 necromancy - art

Hide yo' kids hide yo' wives
+1 speed - art

We are the walking dead
+1 necromancy - art

I know what you fantasise about
+1 necromancy - art

If I was you I'd wanna be me too
+0 - art

I talked to a Saint today.

+2 necromancy - collab art

They're closing in on you now

+1 necromancy - art

+1 necromancy - lit - 400-999 words

Follow me

+2 speed - collab art

Herd Information
Herd: Renegade
Herd Position: n/a right now
Mate(s): None. But oh boy you know he's going to try
Current Location: Blackwood, around the northern borderlands

Details
Personality Type: ENTJ-A - "The Commander"
Personality: charming & suave // intollerant & intimidating // exciteable & energetic // flashy & showoff // stubborn & dominant // strong-willed & ruthless

Saint is a poster boy for an ENTJ type personality. He's also a massive jerk. He's literally impossible to deal with, painfully stubborn and takes nothing seriously unless its something he wants. When dealing with others of either sex, unless he is ill or in a terrible mood, it's almost a given that he will be flirting. He's a smooth talker and will prey on others' weak spots to persuade them round to his way of thinking. However, if this doesn't work (and he's more than aware it isn't foolproof) he isn't against using intimidation techniques to get his own way. This often comes in the form of threats, violent displays and even physical injury, though never to his target unless they have royally tested his patience. He'd rather hurt their loved ones. The motivation is far more compelling. Saint has a reasonable amount of patience and he prides himself on not being a complete monster. He works via a three strike system, keeping a mental list of whoever holds his interest at that time and how they have wronged him.

Despite his intimidating appearance, Saint isn't always aggressive or cold. He has an almost child-like energy when dealing with others and will happily make jokes and play games all day. He enjoys the power rush of having someone terrified of him, but he enjoys the exasperated sighs and choked laughs from others whenever he makes a completely inappropriate joke just as much. With his playful nature comes an insatiable need to show off. He does this any way he can, even by simply sauntering around like he has no care in the world. He is incredibly confident in his abilities too, always believing that he is capable of doing anything he sets his mind to and that he will only meet death when he is good and ready. What irritates most that know him is the fact that he will most likely outlive all of them, no matter how reckless he is. And boi is he. He's always willing to throw himself into a fight seemingly without a second thought as if he just finds it fun to throw his weight around. Which he does.

There hasn't been a moment in Saint's life where he has been a follower or just part of the herd. Not really, anyway. He tried as a younger adult however it didn't stick and he has a real problem with authority figures. He can't stand being told what to do by anyone. The only exception to this rule may be certain does. Around them, he will play the flirt, but he is still a blackwood through and through so he is a gentleman. They just have to get used to the amount of innuendo that comes out of his mouth. To all others, he is a leader; dominant and unyielding. Unwilling to bend to any rule other than his own. He dislikes the herd life found within the main Blackwood group and thoroughly dislikes living under the rule of a 'royal' pair. But, despite that, if their land and herd were to come under attack by the crazed zealots or disgusting bigots Blackwood calls neighbours, Saint wouldn't hesitate to fight to defend the population as a whole. He also wouldn't hesitate to bring back heads of his defeated foes to try and woo some ladies.
Appearance: Tall, dark and handsome, Saint looks remarkably well looked after for a renegade living in such a harsh land. He is underweight, as most of his kin are, but he manages to find enough food to keep a fair amount of muscle on his bones. He's well built, perhaps a little sturdier than some, but more than capable of both speed and strength. A born soldier with the looks to match. His fur grows long in the winter, covering his chest, belly and legs in a good covering of thick fluff which coincides with the time of year his winter roan kicks in, whitening his coat enough to give him a good camouflage when the snow comes. In the summer his fur is always sleek and well groomed, the only ruffled patches giving away the numerous scars that litter his body. The only long fur he shows in summer is on his legs where the feather curls and frames his hooves in a rather elegant way. Saint's mane grows long and is often seen falling over his shoulders, but once it reaches a length that is uncontrollable it is nothing that isn't controlled by a quick trim. His tail hair also grows in long, covering the whole length of his tail, but it is much coarser and curls in a similar fashion to the hair on his legs making it easier to maintain.

History: As a young buck Saint was downright impossible for his parents to handle most of the time, only settling down enough to hear their words and lessons when he had exhausted himself. He pushed them to the edges of their patience and parenting abilities, but he also showed them plenty of love and affection when he was ready for it. The only reason why they didn't give up on him. Or so he believes. They were an older couple that had mated for life, however, had not been able to conceive any fawns. So, when the day came that Saint was born, he was destined to be bound to the eternal love of his mother as she believed him to be her own personal miracle. As the buck grew to be boisterous and often far too over the top of the other fawns, his mother loved him. Even as he started pushing around the other fawns, forming his own little band and bullying others that tried to stand against him, his mother loved him. Which did nothing for his already mile-high confidence. It was only through the persistence of his parents to teach him that he eventually grew out of that sort of behaviour and started to take his magic and his training seriously. He still acted up with his friends that seemed to gravitate towards him, and all throughout his adolescence, his ego stayed somewhat in check. He struggled with listening to orders or teachings given to him by anyone other than his parents, but a warrior was what he wanted to be so he sucked it up, completed his coming of age ritual and proved that he was strong.

It also helped that does would often stop to watch them sparring, checking the strength of the upcoming recruits to make sure they were of a high standard. But all Saint saw was a group of ladies that gave him every chance to show off and try to impress them. He enjoyed the training that came with being an aspiring warrior, learning how to use his strength, how to fight and how to defend his herd. All was going well and good and his parents were incredibly proud when he became a scavenger. But it soon came crashing down when he was on a self-imposed scouting mission around the Glenmore boarder. He had heard rumours of Glenmorian stags hanging around their borders but what he came to find was one single doe, lithe, light coloured and had a wonderfully sharp tongue. Probably the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes upon. She looked at him with fear at first but they spoke and while he tried to scare her away he found he couldn't. In the end, they parted ways with an agreement that she wouldn't return until they had agreed to meet again. And he did return. Time and time again, going against what his herd would have wished but he couldn't help himself. At the age of 10, Saint became a full-fledged warrior and should have been full of dreams of protecting the herd, fulfilling his duties to Mother Uir. But all of his time was spent thinking about his new ladylove.

They were together in secret for over a year, never living together but spending as much free time with each other as possible without their herds knowing. She showed him the magic of the earth and he showed her how to fight. It was going swimmingly until he was chosen for a trip up to the mountains to speak with the sentinels. He was gone for two weeks and was over the moon to return to see his girl, but there was no happiness waiting for him. Going against their rule she had ventured into the forest in an attempt to escape some lecherous stag in her own herd and had managed to attract the company of some wolves. She attempted to fight them but it was obvious she was weak. By the time Saint found her and managed to fight the wolves off she was barely clinging to life. She told him what had happened then begged to be put out of her pain. It still haunts him to this day that he couldn't do that one thing for her. Instead, he lay with her and tried to comfort her as her life slowly faded away. Since that moment he has not seen the herd. He blames the herd for taking him away from her, blames Glenmore for forcing her into such a situation. But deep down he blames himself, though it is something he will never admit to.

Now free of the herd and others giving him orders he calls himself a leader and acts almost exactly as he had when he was younger. Just with a much more mature view of the world and an infinitely more cynical outlook. His heart has hardened and a wall built. He will never speak of his love, nor will he allow anyone to ask about her. She is his memory alone to treasure. In the wilds of Blackwood, he has a dream of taking in other renegades and wanderers, forming a band of his own. These may be stags or does from any land, however, they must be sharp-witted, strong, ruthless and loyal to the end. If they give him their mind and soul he offers protection and a family for life, all he asks for in exchange is the willingness to do whatever he asks of them in order to survive and thrive.

Roleplay
Plotting: Open for pretty much everything, specially close buds and plotties
Tutoring/Sparring: Saint really isn't the type to give out lessons. However, he would spar or fight quite happily
Friends/Love Interest: Both open, though more friends than love right now
Rut: Open, though right now fawns from him will be pretty much unknown to him and he won't be part of their lives

Description

SAINT'...You're talking to a goddamn god..."

. .

~x~

Basic Information
Name: Saint
Nickname(s): 'Whatever you like, babydoll'
Gender: Stag
Age: 12
Year of Birth: 757 of the New Age
Height: 12.2hh
Build: Medium-heavy
Phenotype: Blood bay winter roan with max partially restricted smoky fawn
Genotype: Ee/Aa/nRnW/fwsfws/rzrz
Eye Colour: Brown
Design Sheet:

Sire:
Warrior | NPC | Deceased
A strong, elderly stag with a deep-seated need to prove himself worthy and protect everything he loved. He was a firm yet loving father, always willing to teach his son everything he knew and dote upon his beloved mate, always reminding her just how blessed he felt that she had chosen to stick by him up until her last moments. After his mate passed away and he learned his son had gone missing, the old stag died of a broken heart.
Dam:
Herbalist | NPC | Deceased
The spitting image of her son. Loving and kind-hearted, yet still fueled by the strength of a proper Blackwood doe. She was fast, agile and able to hold her own against anything life threw at her. She fell for her mate at a young age and never had any reason to leave him for he was, in her eyes, the perfect man. It saddened her that they did not have a whole horde of children but she did not see this as weakness in either of them and merely took it as a sign from Uir that their herd's need outweighed their wish to become parents. But when her child finally came she was head over heels. She passed, old and happy, mere weeks after her son graduated to become a fully fledged warrior.

Bloodline: 100% Blackwood
Magic Type: Black
Sexuality: Pansexual (gender does not matter to him but it is more personality)

Voice actor: Jeffrey Dean Morgan (swearing warning!)
Theme song(s): music.amazon.co.uk/user-playli…

Skill Points
Speed: 4 [Basic Level] (Build Cap: 15 points max)
Stamina: 10 [Medium Level]
Strength: 10 [Medium Level]

Magic:
[Inborn] Possession: 10 [Medium Level]
[Learned] Necromancy: 17 [Medium Level]
Herbs: 0 [Basic Level]
Crafting: 0 [Basic Level]

Experience: 0

Breakdown
+1 speed - base bonus
+4 stamina - base bonus
+5 strength - base bonus
+6 stamina - starter bonus
+5 strength - starter bonus

+10 Possession token fawnlings.deviantart.com/notes…
+10 Necromancy token fawnlings.deviantart.com/notes…

Why they faces look so E-M-O?
+1 necromancy - art

Hide yo' kids hide yo' wives
+1 speed - art

We are the walking dead
+1 necromancy - art

I know what you fantasise about
+1 necromancy - art

If I was you I'd wanna be me too
+0 - art

I talked to a Saint today.

+2 necromancy - collab art

They're closing in on you now

+1 necromancy - art

+1 necromancy - lit - 400-999 words

Follow me

+2 speed - collab art

Herd Information
Herd: Renegade
Herd Position: n/a right now
Mate(s): None. But oh boy you know he's going to try
Current Location: Blackwood, around the northern borderlands

Details
Personality Type: ENTJ-A - "The Commander"
Personality: charming & suave // intollerant & intimidating // exciteable & energetic // flashy & showoff // stubborn & dominant // strong-willed & ruthless

Saint is a poster boy for an ENTJ type personality. He's also a massive jerk. He's literally impossible to deal with, painfully stubborn and takes nothing seriously unless its something he wants. When dealing with others of either sex, unless he is ill or in a terrible mood, it's almost a given that he will be flirting. He's a smooth talker and will prey on others' weak spots to persuade them round to his way of thinking. However, if this doesn't work (and he's more than aware it isn't foolproof) he isn't against using intimidation techniques to get his own way. This often comes in the form of threats, violent displays and even physical injury, though never to his target unless they have royally tested his patience. He'd rather hurt their loved ones. The motivation is far more compelling. Saint has a reasonable amount of patience and he prides himself on not being a complete monster. He works via a three strike system, keeping a mental list of whoever holds his interest at that time and how they have wronged him.

Despite his intimidating appearance, Saint isn't always aggressive or cold. He has an almost child-like energy when dealing with others and will happily make jokes and play games all day. He enjoys the power rush of having someone terrified of him, but he enjoys the exasperated sighs and choked laughs from others whenever he makes a completely inappropriate joke just as much. With his playful nature comes an insatiable need to show off. He does this any way he can, even by simply sauntering around like he has no care in the world. He is incredibly confident in his abilities too, always believing that he is capable of doing anything he sets his mind to and that he will only meet death when he is good and ready. What irritates most that know him is the fact that he will most likely outlive all of them, no matter how reckless he is. And boi is he. He's always willing to throw himself into a fight seemingly without a second thought as if he just finds it fun to throw his weight around. Which he does.

There hasn't been a moment in Saint's life where he has been a follower or just part of the herd. Not really, anyway. He tried as a younger adult however it didn't stick and he has a real problem with authority figures. He can't stand being told what to do by anyone. The only exception to this rule may be certain does. Around them, he will play the flirt, but he is still a blackwood through and through so he is a gentleman. They just have to get used to the amount of innuendo that comes out of his mouth. To all others, he is a leader; dominant and unyielding. Unwilling to bend to any rule other than his own. He dislikes the herd life found within the main Blackwood group and thoroughly dislikes living under the rule of a 'royal' pair. But, despite that, if their land and herd were to come under attack by the crazed zealots or disgusting bigots Blackwood calls neighbours, Saint wouldn't hesitate to fight to defend the population as a whole. He also wouldn't hesitate to bring back heads of his defeated foes to try and woo some ladies.
Appearance: Tall, dark and handsome, Saint looks remarkably well looked after for a renegade living in such a harsh land. He is underweight, as most of his kin are, but he manages to find enough food to keep a fair amount of muscle on his bones. He's well built, perhaps a little sturdier than some, but more than capable of both speed and strength. A born soldier with the looks to match. His fur grows long in the winter, covering his chest, belly and legs in a good covering of thick fluff which coincides with the time of year his winter roan kicks in, whitening his coat enough to give him a good camouflage when the snow comes. In the summer his fur is always sleek and well groomed, the only ruffled patches giving away the numerous scars that litter his body. The only long fur he shows in summer is on his legs where the feather curls and frames his hooves in a rather elegant way. Saint's mane grows long and is often seen falling over his shoulders, but once it reaches a length that is uncontrollable it is nothing that isn't controlled by a quick trim. His tail hair also grows in long, covering the whole length of his tail, but it is much coarser and curls in a similar fashion to the hair on his legs making it easier to maintain.

History: As a young buck Saint was downright impossible for his parents to handle most of the time, only settling down enough to hear their words and lessons when he had exhausted himself. He pushed them to the edges of their patience and parenting abilities, but he also showed them plenty of love and affection when he was ready for it. The only reason why they didn't give up on him. Or so he believes. They were an older couple that had mated for life, however, had not been able to conceive any fawns. So, when the day came that Saint was born, he was destined to be bound to the eternal love of his mother as she believed him to be her own personal miracle. As the buck grew to be boisterous and often far too over the top of the other fawns, his mother loved him. Even as he started pushing around the other fawns, forming his own little band and bullying others that tried to stand against him, his mother loved him. Which did nothing for his already mile-high confidence. It was only through the persistence of his parents to teach him that he eventually grew out of that sort of behaviour and started to take his magic and his training seriously. He still acted up with his friends that seemed to gravitate towards him, and all throughout his adolescence, his ego stayed somewhat in check. He struggled with listening to orders or teachings given to him by anyone other than his parents, but a warrior was what he wanted to be so he sucked it up, completed his coming of age ritual and proved that he was strong.

It also helped that does would often stop to watch them sparring, checking the strength of the upcoming recruits to make sure they were of a high standard. But all Saint saw was a group of ladies that gave him every chance to show off and try to impress them. He enjoyed the training that came with being an aspiring warrior, learning how to use his strength, how to fight and how to defend his herd. All was going well and good and his parents were incredibly proud when he became a scavenger. But it soon came crashing down when he was on a self-imposed scouting mission around the Glenmore boarder. He had heard rumours of Glenmorian stags hanging around their borders but what he came to find was one single doe, lithe, light coloured and had a wonderfully sharp tongue. Probably the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes upon. She looked at him with fear at first but they spoke and while he tried to scare her away he found he couldn't. In the end, they parted ways with an agreement that she wouldn't return until they had agreed to meet again. And he did return. Time and time again, going against what his herd would have wished but he couldn't help himself. At the age of 10, Saint became a full-fledged warrior and should have been full of dreams of protecting the herd, fulfilling his duties to Mother Uir. But all of his time was spent thinking about his new ladylove.

They were together in secret for over a year, never living together but spending as much free time with each other as possible without their herds knowing. She showed him the magic of the earth and he showed her how to fight. It was going swimmingly until he was chosen for a trip up to the mountains to speak with the sentinels. He was gone for two weeks and was over the moon to return to see his girl, but there was no happiness waiting for him. Going against their rule she had ventured into the forest in an attempt to escape some lecherous stag in her own herd and had managed to attract the company of some wolves. She attempted to fight them but it was obvious she was weak. By the time Saint found her and managed to fight the wolves off she was barely clinging to life. She told him what had happened then begged to be put out of her pain. It still haunts him to this day that he couldn't do that one thing for her. Instead, he lay with her and tried to comfort her as her life slowly faded away. Since that moment he has not seen the herd. He blames the herd for taking him away from her, blames Glenmore for forcing her into such a situation. But deep down he blames himself, though it is something he will never admit to.

Now free of the herd and others giving him orders he calls himself a leader and acts almost exactly as he had when he was younger. Just with a much more mature view of the world and an infinitely more cynical outlook. His heart has hardened and a wall built. He will never speak of his love, nor will he allow anyone to ask about her. She is his memory alone to treasure. In the wilds of Blackwood, he has a dream of taking in other renegades and wanderers, forming a band of his own. These may be stags or does from any land, however, they must be sharp-witted, strong, ruthless and loyal to the end. If they give him their mind and soul he offers protection and a family for life, all he asks for in exchange is the willingness to do whatever he asks of them in order to survive and thrive.

Roleplay
Plotting: Open for pretty much everything, specially close buds and plotties
Tutoring/Sparring: Saint really isn't the type to give out lessons. However, he would spar or fight quite happily
Friends/Love Interest: Both open, though more friends than love right now
Rut: Open, though right now fawns from him will be pretty much unknown to him and he won't be part of their lives