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Description

"I get ta' talkin' and talkin' and prett'h soon people be gettin' so worked up over mah shit accen' f'eys ain't even notice I've gon'n talked 'em in circles. Isa beau'iful fing."

D E L A N O
"Heys nice ta' meet ya', call me Del, babes. ❤ "

NAME: Delano (Del-e-no or Del-on-o are fine)
NICKNAME: Del, D
GENDER: Male
  INTACT: Y
SOUND: This deepness and intensity.
SPEECH PATTERN: Very smooth considering how fast he speaks and how much he can jam into one breath of air. Most words seem to flow pretty well but you'll notice gutteral stops in words with t's , or conjunction of words by almost slurring them together.
ACCENT: Cockney English with a mix of coastal American influence, so all over the place but distinctly British sounding.
DIALECT:
      beginning 'th' becomes 'f' (think --> fink)
      ending 'th' becomes 'v' (with --> wiv)
    some t's not pronounced entirely (matter --> mat'ah)
    adds s to the end of words that do not need them (random)
COMMON WORDS:
    babes --> can be singular or to multiple people. Usually for females or very soft dogs.
    mans --> can be singular or to multiple people. Usually for males or strangers.
    innit --> "isn't it"
    isa --> "it's a" / "its a"
    s'all --> "It is all"
    ya --> "you" / "yeah" / "okay"
    y'know --> "you know"


BREED: Bandog
SPECIFICS: American Pit bull terrier, Presa Canario, Malinois, American & Levitt Bulldog
HEIGHT: 27"
WEIGHT: 110lbs
BUILD: Pure powerhouse. He's definitely not the tallest or fastest around but with his wide stance, thick neck, heavy head and proportionate limbs make him a very compact machine of a dog. Del has professionally cropped ears, but no tail, he was born a genetic anomaly already and was unfortunate not to have his tail.
COLOR: Chimera. His main base being a red with light brindling and a mask, while his secondary layer being a black with minimal white and some ticking.
EYES: Silver
MISMARKS: V shaped scars on his lips, eye scar (left), leg scars (various)

PACK: Di Trieste
RANK: Cannon Fodder [Pending]
INITIATION IMAGE: not yet

POSITIVE TRAITS:
➹ INDEPENDENT | "Don'ch ya be worryin' bou' lil' ol' me."
Del is and has always been incredibly independent. While he can be a team player and work with even the worst of crowds, easily moving along them, if he were at any point kicked to the curb or left to fend for himself, he has no issues doing so. Whether it comes from his inate sense of immortality or his mantra that at some point everyone will abandon you for better things, this boy could survive alone in a wicked winter and only come out stronger. He's far from dependent on people, even if he has a fondness for people.

➹ RESTRAINED | "Looks I ain' ou's ta start nofin' ands ya shouldn' be eifers, punk."
A big boy with a lot more mental willpower, sure Del is a machine of a dog but he's not a brawler by choice. When Del fights he is relentless and could maul you if you've really gone and pushed his buttons, but he would much rather make friends. If you're the type that comes looking for a fight, or a leader wanting some aggressive beast-like sidekick, you're shit out of luck. Del has a high restraint when it comes to putting some bite behind his bark and rarely truly threatens other dogs, even if they're being shit eaters. It will take a lot to get Del seeing red.

➹ SUAVE | "Well I don' fink I've ever seen a beau'y like ya before."
Even need to mention that his mouth matches his handsome look? Del can sweet talk just about anyone into or out of anything. He's a naturally charming and confident male who has come to learn that if he talks enough and tells a good enough story, people will listen to you and flock to you. This trait extends much further than just a romantic or flirtatious stand point, he's the mediator, the diplomat who can calm everyone in the room with his easy going manner.

➹ WISE | "No, I knows bet'ah. Fool me once, yknow?"
You don't need to be a hundred years old to know what you know, and Del knows quite a bit about character. He's been around a lot of different types of people and has an easy time distinguishing the truthful from the dishonest, the sweet from the mean, the way people ask things of who and how they look at you. It's like he can read people so well he might as well write a book about them. He's not always outright about knowing peoples intentions or emotions and will mostly keep to himself unless he's warning someone else. This is only from accumulated experience in his life, Del by no means knows everything and there's quite a bit he can still be ignorant on, he's just very aware of people.

NEGATIVE TRAITS:
➷ UNPREDICTABLE | "I ain's neva done f'e same fing twice."
Del is a man who lives and dies for himself at the end of the day, he's out for his own beneficial gains and survival. That means some days he really falls in line with everything you want and other days his bigger picture is on a different page than yours. This can make working with him a difficult task and can piss you off to no end. Sometimes he goes out of his way to do something he knows he probably shouldn't, and he will often take so little responsibility for it you'll end up in trouble just by association. Sometimes while you're walking down the street he may just ghost on you; he might just pop himself into a crowded store; start chasing a cat well into bad territory. Who knows, he's a dog.

➷ UNDISCIPLINED | "Sure mans, sure, ma'vy lay'a."
Del is stubborn and while he'll usually follow most rules it can be a pain in the ass getting him to go do something he really doesn't want to do, especially boring or menial tasks that feel more like busy work. It may be due to how dominant he is, he doesn't really like to be a subordinate to others, he sees himself more or less on the same level as anyone he meets which ties into his arrogance. It'll take firm leadership to get through to him and he playful snarky attitude.

➷ ARROGANT | "Wha' ya mean I can's do it?"
A high confidence comes with a high opinion of one's capabilities. The moment you start talking to him like he's lesser or scum, he'll tune you out so fast even if you're right. Del believes he does most things the right way and knows the perfect decision for any situation, he doubts himself very little. Unfortunately he's a lucky bastard so it only reassures him of his "masterful ability to never be wrong." His arrogance can definitely lead him onto have an attitude if you're really pushing his buttons, a crudeness, or straight up aggression towards you.

➷ DECEITFUL | "Isa dog eats dog world, babes. No hard feelins."
Del comes first in Del's world, not bitches, not family, no one. It's a bitter existence, but it's practical, the world is cold and won't coddle you so he's learned. If everyone's expendable, then he is too and he needs to look out for himself. He has no issue lying to cover his own ass and ensure his own safety, or telling the truth to save himself from your mistakes. It's extremely rare that Del will help you out to cover you, but then again he doesn't go out of his way to rat you out. Del isn't some pathological liar who's words can never ever be trusted, in fact most times he's just withholding the truth rather than going out of his way to explicitly lie to you. It's not really an evil trait, but it's far from positive. Del isn't the type of guy you find yourself willingly trusting, if you trust him you're taking a gamble, but who knows you might win big with him on your side.

NEUTRAL TRAITS:
➸ STREET SMART | "I mays or mays not knows mah way around."
Del has lived on many types of streets with many different circumstances, he's extremely aware of his surroundings, noises that mean bad (or good) things to come, how to interact with humans and strays. He's a natural at coexisting in society.

➸ SPONTANEOUS | "Jus' do eh, mans."
Tying into his lack of discpline and unpredictability, Del has a knack for not sticking with routine, especially if 'fun' is on the other end of things. He'll chase women into oncoming traffic, cats into dangerous territory, or even go off wandering with his curiousity accompanying him. He's just a type of guy to live day by day, while he wants to ensure his survival he doesn't want to live a calloused, solemn, or hermit type lifestyle. He just wants to be.

➸ INDIFFERENT | "I's don' know one way or f'e otha ands I don' care."
If you're coming to Del to make a decision for you, he likely won't care enough to help with that. Other peoples problems are not his own and he will rarely take sides and fight for people, even if he likes them a whole lot. Logic and emotion both walk a fine line for Del and he will choose one or the other based on the situation, but otherwise he's too casual to take a heavy stance on anything other than himself and what he wants.

EXTERNAL STRENGTHS:
● Very strong and physically powerful.
● Surprisingly agile considering he's in great physical condition, jumping fences, running for long periods of time, or moving quickly through a crowded room are easy tasks for the male.
● Has excellence awareness of surroundings, like a sixth sense.
● Knows when to keep to himself, he eavesdrops a lot but he won't be outright in your business or pester you.
● Not squeamish of really anything, smells, sights, noises don't really bother him.

EXTERNAL WEAKNESSES:
● Joints tend to get a bit stiff in the winter or if he's been sitting a while, especially in his hips.
● Not faster than any average dog, nor very slender and small so fitting into hard to reach places can prove difficult if he's never done it before.
● Loud, he's just fucking loud. If you're trying to have a secret conversation with him forget it. He's deaf in his left ear so he speaks louder than he should.
● Impish and flirty, self explanatory.
● He's agile but in a crowded room he's a bit of a klutz, stepping in things and knocking things over.

TRIVIA:
♦ Has a bit of early hip dysplasia, it doesn't really effect him keeping up but his hind legs walking has a lot of sway to it. Not so proper or heavy footed. Not a limp.
♦ Consistently licks at the scars on his lips, especially when he's bored.
♦ Has a problem keeping it in his pants, y'know, wants no responsibility though.
♦ Will probably give you a nickname you don't like, and he doesn't care what you call him.

BACKGROUND BREIF:
This background is cut into notable sections, more information or specific events may be revealed later or through roleplaying.

Mr. Dwyane.
It was a real beautiful night, frosted cold on the outside where the snow rained heavily and threathened to never ease up. When they were all born, a healthy litter of who the fuck knows "pitbulls", it was warm inside the spacious room, even if they were all huddled in the corner under some heat lamps next to their mother. The box they all laid in seemed very crowded and a small black and red pup was shoving around his other rowdy littermates to get to that sweet titty. The night was fine and frankly Del couldn't remember it even if you asked him, but the next day about half the litter was tossed into a burlap sack and disappeared at the hands of the man who had been hovering over them all night. Not Del though, for some reason not him. As the days came and only four pups remained, growing gradually in that spacious room but small corner with their mom always close by to hear their whines, life was okay. When they were all about a month old they were finally allowed into the rest of the house, mingling with the children and the man with olive skin and rough hands who occassionaly would pop them on the ass for biting something they shouldn't have. Nothing harsh. Though it became more and more apparent that Del wasn't quite like his siblings, nor him mom, but he never did meet his dad to even compare himself. He had patches of red stripes and one of the children in the house called him Tiger, which he took to easily; he had no tail and his ears flopped over much like a hounds rather than his siblings cute little button ears. Everyone else looked damn near identical, black and white and nothing more with rich chocolate and amber eyes. Del knew he was different but it never really seemed to bother anyone until the man with olive skin would point a finger at him, toss his mean brown eyes around towards the pup when his friends were over downing beers and casually spitting out the word 'cull', 'dump', 'abandon'. Almost always followed by 'he just won't sell.' Del was really none the wiser but he could tell there was less attention paid to him than any of the other siblings, it was subtle but it existed. Two months in and the olive skinned man was drinking beers with a quiet large man, who looked like he was in between being a professional boxer and having a beer belly. The man went on again saying how his odd colored pup was raising concerns and no one really wanted to bite the eight hundred dollar price tag to own him. The quiet man kept his eyes on the pup for a long while, never saying anything but by the end of the night, Del was hooked on a leash and walking out the front gates with this stranger he had never met.

Delano never knew that the man who took him home that night saved him from being literally casted out to die in the freezing cold of London, but he was sure glad to be out of that crowded house. He went by Dwayne, his full name was Lauren Dwayne and Del only knew that because of a plaque on his wall with decorative brown borders that said so. Though everyone he ever came in contact with always called him Dwayne. Del at the time was 'Black', and Black stayed inside the cozy home for a long time, occassionally going out for walks with Dwyane but for the most part he pissed in the backyard to save time. Dwyane had a busy schedule and wasn't home most of the day. At about a year old and much larger, nearly his full size, he was accompanying Dwayne a lot more, in fact they were inseperable. Black always walked alongside Dwayne and he always got looks and stares of uncertainty, a lot of people asked if he was friendly and Black figured that was about right since he didn't have a tail to wag at them. Dwayne always said no and so no one ever did touch him, maybe he was more of a prop than a companion but he did enjoy being out of that cozy house that had become so crowded to him. See, Dwayne went to other peoples places of work, their homes, he banged on the doors, yelled softly for them to hurry their asses out and then he'd tap his clipboard and say things like 'you owe so and so a lot of this and that.' Debt collector, is what you would've called it, and much like his dog Dwayne never wagged a tail and he didn't look like the friendliest of people around the Essex area. Dwayne would always encourage Black to get riled up seeing these strangers, get to barking and hopping on his big feet, look real intimidating like those dogs in the movies you know. Black was real good at that, but he never really had to attack anyone, that was the beauty of it and Dwayne always said so. "Isa beau'iful fing." he'd always say on their rides home from a long day of tormenting people. See Dwayne always said fear was mental, sure sometimes it was circumstancial, but for the most part it was mental. People see a big scary black dog with silver eyes and suddenly they start shittin' their pants, you didn't even need to attack them. Just the idea of being attacked was enough to get them talking and nodding and agreeing to pay whatever debt they owed. Dwayne so rarely laid a finger on those people and same for Black. The only people he attacked were the ones that tried to run to their cars and dodge Dwayne, and Black would catch them on the ass or the pant leg and drag them down, it was a fun game and it always kept him alert.

A year and half into the duo's enjoyable lifestyle, Dwayne brought home a ton of boxes, it was an endless stream of heavy cardboard entering their already crowded bachelor pad. All of those boxes belonged to Samantha, Sam for short, and she had those blue eyes that were so crystal clear they looked wide and scary, piercing you with every glance. Sam had been the only thing in Dwayne's life that Black wasn't allowed to bark at and anytime she came over she always frowned at the dog and asked Dwayne if he would consider some cuter breed like a Yorkie or some shit. Dwayne would just laugh and eat his dinner and then as usual they'd go upstairs, lock Black out and fuck like rabbits until morning. Black never really hated or loved Sam and just felt like her prescence was one he didn't care about, he only cared to see his owner. But the day all those boxes came in and never left, neither did Sam, she was there indefinitely and Black and her never really got along. Dwayne started to leave Black at home with Sam as 'protection' even though she consistently told him she felt less safe being alone with Black, that he may maul her to death like on the news. Dwayne laughed and went on to work, always saying that Black would never. Black never did maul her, even though she constantly beat him with sticks, her hands, and even threw things at him if he ever came into a room she was in. He just learned to stay away from her and wait at the door for his man to come home. Unfortunately one day he had been sleeping next to the door, Sam was trying to leave for some sort of function and when she couldn't wake the large dog she decided a swift kick to the ribs would wake him. It did, but the kick jolted Black so hard out of his sleep his teeth immediately clamped onto her leg in utter confusion. By the time he had realized what he just ripped into it was far too late, the woman was screaming and panicking. Called the hospital, called Dwayne and after a long night sitting in the house waiting for their return, Dwayne just gave a real pitiful look towards Black. He slept downstairs that night ont he couch with Black, didn't really sleep, just pet him and kept him company with some chit chat. In the morning they went for their usual walk but it ended at some sort of facility. His collar was stripped and Dwayne walked out those doors and didn't ever come back for the dog who use to be Black.

Victoria & Bugs.
Del stayed in that facility for a couple of months and while people would pass his stall everyday insisting that it was time to put him down, only one person ever reminded them that he wasn't dangerous. A female with dark brown hair and really sweet brown eyes named Victoria, and Del knew very little about her other than she was nice to him. That's all that mattered. She wore a little name tag with a red sticker on it, so she could get into any of the other pens she wanted. Even the most 'aggressive' dogs sat back and relaxed whenever she unlocked their gate to feed them and give them a few pats. But Del was always her favorite and she always called him Babes, why he wasn't sure but she just said he looked like one whenever she'd give him a bath or walk him. Del ended up going home with her one month after she debated with herself for a long time about adopting him, she even had to get a license to own him. Babes had to be muzzled everywhere he went but he was glad to be out of another fucking crowded space. She had a nice place though, a big spacious studio and she did something called modeling when she wasn't volunteering at the shelter. Babes was a glorified house dog which was quite the switch up from being a figurehead guard dog. Most nights he just spent following Vic around, watching her put her lavish makeup on and sitting at the door when she left. There were lots of parties and men around and frankly Babe didn't mind any of it, he loved meeting all the people and women just seemed to swoon over his natural bully smile. They had a fun life and it was clear to Babe that Vic lived in the here and the now which contrasted everything he learned from Dwayne who always had a routine, a schedule, a plan.

Two years in and Victoria had got a modeling contract in Los Angeles, California, what a fucking ride. The two were packed up almost immediately and even though it seemed like a lot of trouble to take the bandog with her she did, she wasn't leaving him behind no way. When they arrived their building wasn't so spacious anymore but Vic promised Babe that would change soon, she just needed to settle. At least he didn't have to wear a muzzle when they walked and in fact the climate was much different. He got a lot more looks of interest than fear, but Vic always said he wasn't out to stud. Says her. See there was this real cute red dalmatian in the same building as them, she was named Lady Bug and Babe respectively nicknamed her Bugs. They went on walks together because Vic became real busy with work and had to call someone to walk her dog, the same walker happened to walk the dalmatian too. What a lucky draw. They'd go to the dog park together and couldn't get enough of each other. It would be hard to say whether their attraction, or at least Babes, was based on emotional attachment or just lust but regardless the two would always gravitate to one another naturally. So much so that one day the dog park gates were left open, Bugs slipped out and well Babes hopped the fence and followed her quicker than the speed of sound. Their walker didn't even realize until they were long gone down the streets of LA, chatting it up and having a good time being temporary strays.

Babes finally got what he wanted that night they spent together on the streets and knocked out so hard when he woke up the next day it was already evening time. Bugs was gone out of sight, likely to return home but Babes didn't know his way through LA like she had. Hell, if it had been London maybe he would've found his way back home but not here, he never did. He went up and down the same street what seemed like a million times and every time he believed he was on a new path he was just running in circles. It took maybe a few days and people were trying to approach him, approach him with a sense of urgency and while Babe was never usually quite skiddish the way they tried to pick him up made him uncertain as hell. So he dodge every person who tried to leash him, worked his way into abandoned houses and buildings at night for shelter and ate out the garbage off the beaches and piers. What he didn't know was that Vic had put out flyers and rewards for his return and she was at home distraught over the lost of her dog. He didn't know, he just didn't want to be caught by a bunch of weird strangers who threw pieces of chicken at him and trembled trying to put a rope around his neck. So, maybe he wasn't Babe anymore since it had been months since he had seen Victoria and after traveling along an extremely long strip of desert road he was no longer an LA dog. He had hit Las Vegas, Nevada and frankly after that he just never stopped moving and eluding the public.

Arturo & The Funky Bunch.
He hadn't been alone for long, only for about six months before he was in the middle of the USA somewhere, no one had any interest in picking him up and frankly he was thin but doing fine on his own. Then he met Arturo, a bull mastiff near double his size as black as night with a few fine lines of red brindling. The first time they met Art joked and said the chimera could be his son and they both laughed at that. He asked what the male's name was and when Arturo found out he didn't have a name (that had stuck) he named him Delano. Said it meant dark swamp or something like that, Del never questioned it because Delano sounded slick as hell anyway. Arturo and Del had only met up on the corners when the garbage was fresh with throwaway food, and they talked and joked most nights and Del was always surprised the large male never showed him anything but sarcasm and kindness. It was all a little suspicious considering how hostile most of the other strays were here in Colorado but there were no complaints on Del's end. He was happy to have some form of company every now and again.

Arturo always complained though, about wanting to go somewhere warmer and how he hated this town, how bored he was and Del wasn't sure if he agreed it was boring but he did give into the interest of being somewhere new. With that little agreement, the two were off out of town but dogs have no concept of states or direction really so, they actually ended up traveling more north east, well into Michigan, it didn't seem too bad at all though and along the way they picked up all sorts of different characters. Assembled what some may even call a pack, a pack of nomads moving across the plains in search of really nothing in particular. Though they had fun, dipping in and out of local businesses, chasing females around those non-fenced in parks and even slithering their ways into peoples homes for a week or two before bouncing all together. Del lived that way well into age three, always on the hip of Arturo who he had nicknamed Pops because of the fatherly role the large mastiff took on with the bandog. The two were close and headed the band of nomadic dogs who were really quite aimless and had no direction in life other than survival and anarchy. During harsh seasons they would always lose a few but when the flowers started to bloom again they easily made those numbers back.

For now this was Del's 'family' and for once he didn't have any owner to follow around. Living on the streets became much easier and Del had grown a sense of direction and easiness navigating his way in and out of near anywhere and anything. Though living with a group of majority rouge males, you always had to remind them why you were in charge. Art and Del were no strangers to settling fights that got picked whether it was with themselves or just members between their pack. For those displays of inherent dominance, Del came out on the other end with a few scars but most notably the rips on his lips. Arturo always said they were purposeful because they looked like goat horns, which he told Del were the signs of the devil. Delano never thought he was that evil though so he just laughed. Though the symbolism seemed to stick, especially when the pack grew in numbers and now- well there were a lot of mouths to feed and a lot of dogs to keep warm and to be one of them you had to give up part of yourself. You had to sign deals with the devil, offer food for protection, and Arturo and Del were starting to become extremely territorial nearly abandoning their nomadic roots. Delano was never above lying to dogs he knew would be of no use to them, promising them a home in the pack if they could do things for him. Get supplies, get food, find stray women- whatever he wanted, whatever was needed for his pack. Del learned how to use people until he didn't need them anymore and learned to throw them away when he was done.

The only one he genuinely stuck close to was Arturo, but one day it was raining while they were up on an overpass. It was slippery but Del and Art always walked on the ledges with no issues crossing and never had a problem with the cars whizzing by. Though it was just one of those days, one where freak accidents happen and maybe they shouldn't have been up on that ledge, but Arturo slipped. He fell a long ways down and that alone would've killed him, but the worst part was that he hit a car. A big ass falling mastiff flew straight down into oncoming traffic and shattered the windshield of the car below. The car flipped, and by the time Del made his way below the overpass, he didn't see anyone inside moving and Arturo's body looked just mangled beyond belief. It was a bloody bad sight. Delano felt pretty distraught over losing Arturo and he sat there all night while the cops and ambulances came and the tow truck to clean it all up. Del never returned back to the pack after that night because he didn't much care to tell them his best friend had died, and frankly he didn't care about the remaining lot anyway, not even the females who had carried his pups. He didn't care, and just wanted to get as far away from the town that held their memories together as he could.

So Delano kept traveling, more and more, still living a nomadic life to this day, but maybe he's ready to fall back into that cycle and false blanket of security once more. If he can handle not being the leader.

Art/Character Design (c) SucioPerro

Description

"I get ta' talkin' and talkin' and prett'h soon people be gettin' so worked up over mah shit accen' f'eys ain't even notice I've gon'n talked 'em in circles. Isa beau'iful fing."

D E L A N O
"Heys nice ta' meet ya', call me Del, babes. ❤ "

NAME: Delano (Del-e-no or Del-on-o are fine)
NICKNAME: Del, D
GENDER: Male
  INTACT: Y
SOUND: This deepness and intensity.
SPEECH PATTERN: Very smooth considering how fast he speaks and how much he can jam into one breath of air. Most words seem to flow pretty well but you'll notice gutteral stops in words with t's , or conjunction of words by almost slurring them together.
ACCENT: Cockney English with a mix of coastal American influence, so all over the place but distinctly British sounding.
DIALECT:
      beginning 'th' becomes 'f' (think --> fink)
      ending 'th' becomes 'v' (with --> wiv)
    some t's not pronounced entirely (matter --> mat'ah)
    adds s to the end of words that do not need them (random)
COMMON WORDS:
    babes --> can be singular or to multiple people. Usually for females or very soft dogs.
    mans --> can be singular or to multiple people. Usually for males or strangers.
    innit --> "isn't it"
    isa --> "it's a" / "its a"
    s'all --> "It is all"
    ya --> "you" / "yeah" / "okay"
    y'know --> "you know"


BREED: Bandog
SPECIFICS: American Pit bull terrier, Presa Canario, Malinois, American & Levitt Bulldog
HEIGHT: 27"
WEIGHT: 110lbs
BUILD: Pure powerhouse. He's definitely not the tallest or fastest around but with his wide stance, thick neck, heavy head and proportionate limbs make him a very compact machine of a dog. Del has professionally cropped ears, but no tail, he was born a genetic anomaly already and was unfortunate not to have his tail.
COLOR: Chimera. His main base being a red with light brindling and a mask, while his secondary layer being a black with minimal white and some ticking.
EYES: Silver
MISMARKS: V shaped scars on his lips, eye scar (left), leg scars (various)

PACK: Di Trieste
RANK: Cannon Fodder [Pending]
INITIATION IMAGE: not yet

POSITIVE TRAITS:
➹ INDEPENDENT | "Don'ch ya be worryin' bou' lil' ol' me."
Del is and has always been incredibly independent. While he can be a team player and work with even the worst of crowds, easily moving along them, if he were at any point kicked to the curb or left to fend for himself, he has no issues doing so. Whether it comes from his inate sense of immortality or his mantra that at some point everyone will abandon you for better things, this boy could survive alone in a wicked winter and only come out stronger. He's far from dependent on people, even if he has a fondness for people.

➹ RESTRAINED | "Looks I ain' ou's ta start nofin' ands ya shouldn' be eifers, punk."
A big boy with a lot more mental willpower, sure Del is a machine of a dog but he's not a brawler by choice. When Del fights he is relentless and could maul you if you've really gone and pushed his buttons, but he would much rather make friends. If you're the type that comes looking for a fight, or a leader wanting some aggressive beast-like sidekick, you're shit out of luck. Del has a high restraint when it comes to putting some bite behind his bark and rarely truly threatens other dogs, even if they're being shit eaters. It will take a lot to get Del seeing red.

➹ SUAVE | "Well I don' fink I've ever seen a beau'y like ya before."
Even need to mention that his mouth matches his handsome look? Del can sweet talk just about anyone into or out of anything. He's a naturally charming and confident male who has come to learn that if he talks enough and tells a good enough story, people will listen to you and flock to you. This trait extends much further than just a romantic or flirtatious stand point, he's the mediator, the diplomat who can calm everyone in the room with his easy going manner.

➹ WISE | "No, I knows bet'ah. Fool me once, yknow?"
You don't need to be a hundred years old to know what you know, and Del knows quite a bit about character. He's been around a lot of different types of people and has an easy time distinguishing the truthful from the dishonest, the sweet from the mean, the way people ask things of who and how they look at you. It's like he can read people so well he might as well write a book about them. He's not always outright about knowing peoples intentions or emotions and will mostly keep to himself unless he's warning someone else. This is only from accumulated experience in his life, Del by no means knows everything and there's quite a bit he can still be ignorant on, he's just very aware of people.

NEGATIVE TRAITS:
➷ UNPREDICTABLE | "I ain's neva done f'e same fing twice."
Del is a man who lives and dies for himself at the end of the day, he's out for his own beneficial gains and survival. That means some days he really falls in line with everything you want and other days his bigger picture is on a different page than yours. This can make working with him a difficult task and can piss you off to no end. Sometimes he goes out of his way to do something he knows he probably shouldn't, and he will often take so little responsibility for it you'll end up in trouble just by association. Sometimes while you're walking down the street he may just ghost on you; he might just pop himself into a crowded store; start chasing a cat well into bad territory. Who knows, he's a dog.

➷ UNDISCIPLINED | "Sure mans, sure, ma'vy lay'a."
Del is stubborn and while he'll usually follow most rules it can be a pain in the ass getting him to go do something he really doesn't want to do, especially boring or menial tasks that feel more like busy work. It may be due to how dominant he is, he doesn't really like to be a subordinate to others, he sees himself more or less on the same level as anyone he meets which ties into his arrogance. It'll take firm leadership to get through to him and he playful snarky attitude.

➷ ARROGANT | "Wha' ya mean I can's do it?"
A high confidence comes with a high opinion of one's capabilities. The moment you start talking to him like he's lesser or scum, he'll tune you out so fast even if you're right. Del believes he does most things the right way and knows the perfect decision for any situation, he doubts himself very little. Unfortunately he's a lucky bastard so it only reassures him of his "masterful ability to never be wrong." His arrogance can definitely lead him onto have an attitude if you're really pushing his buttons, a crudeness, or straight up aggression towards you.

➷ DECEITFUL | "Isa dog eats dog world, babes. No hard feelins."
Del comes first in Del's world, not bitches, not family, no one. It's a bitter existence, but it's practical, the world is cold and won't coddle you so he's learned. If everyone's expendable, then he is too and he needs to look out for himself. He has no issue lying to cover his own ass and ensure his own safety, or telling the truth to save himself from your mistakes. It's extremely rare that Del will help you out to cover you, but then again he doesn't go out of his way to rat you out. Del isn't some pathological liar who's words can never ever be trusted, in fact most times he's just withholding the truth rather than going out of his way to explicitly lie to you. It's not really an evil trait, but it's far from positive. Del isn't the type of guy you find yourself willingly trusting, if you trust him you're taking a gamble, but who knows you might win big with him on your side.

NEUTRAL TRAITS:
➸ STREET SMART | "I mays or mays not knows mah way around."
Del has lived on many types of streets with many different circumstances, he's extremely aware of his surroundings, noises that mean bad (or good) things to come, how to interact with humans and strays. He's a natural at coexisting in society.

➸ SPONTANEOUS | "Jus' do eh, mans."
Tying into his lack of discpline and unpredictability, Del has a knack for not sticking with routine, especially if 'fun' is on the other end of things. He'll chase women into oncoming traffic, cats into dangerous territory, or even go off wandering with his curiousity accompanying him. He's just a type of guy to live day by day, while he wants to ensure his survival he doesn't want to live a calloused, solemn, or hermit type lifestyle. He just wants to be.

➸ INDIFFERENT | "I's don' know one way or f'e otha ands I don' care."
If you're coming to Del to make a decision for you, he likely won't care enough to help with that. Other peoples problems are not his own and he will rarely take sides and fight for people, even if he likes them a whole lot. Logic and emotion both walk a fine line for Del and he will choose one or the other based on the situation, but otherwise he's too casual to take a heavy stance on anything other than himself and what he wants.

EXTERNAL STRENGTHS:
● Very strong and physically powerful.
● Surprisingly agile considering he's in great physical condition, jumping fences, running for long periods of time, or moving quickly through a crowded room are easy tasks for the male.
● Has excellence awareness of surroundings, like a sixth sense.
● Knows when to keep to himself, he eavesdrops a lot but he won't be outright in your business or pester you.
● Not squeamish of really anything, smells, sights, noises don't really bother him.

EXTERNAL WEAKNESSES:
● Joints tend to get a bit stiff in the winter or if he's been sitting a while, especially in his hips.
● Not faster than any average dog, nor very slender and small so fitting into hard to reach places can prove difficult if he's never done it before.
● Loud, he's just fucking loud. If you're trying to have a secret conversation with him forget it. He's deaf in his left ear so he speaks louder than he should.
● Impish and flirty, self explanatory.
● He's agile but in a crowded room he's a bit of a klutz, stepping in things and knocking things over.

TRIVIA:
♦ Has a bit of early hip dysplasia, it doesn't really effect him keeping up but his hind legs walking has a lot of sway to it. Not so proper or heavy footed. Not a limp.
♦ Consistently licks at the scars on his lips, especially when he's bored.
♦ Has a problem keeping it in his pants, y'know, wants no responsibility though.
♦ Will probably give you a nickname you don't like, and he doesn't care what you call him.

BACKGROUND BREIF:
This background is cut into notable sections, more information or specific events may be revealed later or through roleplaying.

Mr. Dwyane.
It was a real beautiful night, frosted cold on the outside where the snow rained heavily and threathened to never ease up. When they were all born, a healthy litter of who the fuck knows "pitbulls", it was warm inside the spacious room, even if they were all huddled in the corner under some heat lamps next to their mother. The box they all laid in seemed very crowded and a small black and red pup was shoving around his other rowdy littermates to get to that sweet titty. The night was fine and frankly Del couldn't remember it even if you asked him, but the next day about half the litter was tossed into a burlap sack and disappeared at the hands of the man who had been hovering over them all night. Not Del though, for some reason not him. As the days came and only four pups remained, growing gradually in that spacious room but small corner with their mom always close by to hear their whines, life was okay. When they were all about a month old they were finally allowed into the rest of the house, mingling with the children and the man with olive skin and rough hands who occassionaly would pop them on the ass for biting something they shouldn't have. Nothing harsh. Though it became more and more apparent that Del wasn't quite like his siblings, nor him mom, but he never did meet his dad to even compare himself. He had patches of red stripes and one of the children in the house called him Tiger, which he took to easily; he had no tail and his ears flopped over much like a hounds rather than his siblings cute little button ears. Everyone else looked damn near identical, black and white and nothing more with rich chocolate and amber eyes. Del knew he was different but it never really seemed to bother anyone until the man with olive skin would point a finger at him, toss his mean brown eyes around towards the pup when his friends were over downing beers and casually spitting out the word 'cull', 'dump', 'abandon'. Almost always followed by 'he just won't sell.' Del was really none the wiser but he could tell there was less attention paid to him than any of the other siblings, it was subtle but it existed. Two months in and the olive skinned man was drinking beers with a quiet large man, who looked like he was in between being a professional boxer and having a beer belly. The man went on again saying how his odd colored pup was raising concerns and no one really wanted to bite the eight hundred dollar price tag to own him. The quiet man kept his eyes on the pup for a long while, never saying anything but by the end of the night, Del was hooked on a leash and walking out the front gates with this stranger he had never met.

Delano never knew that the man who took him home that night saved him from being literally casted out to die in the freezing cold of London, but he was sure glad to be out of that crowded house. He went by Dwayne, his full name was Lauren Dwayne and Del only knew that because of a plaque on his wall with decorative brown borders that said so. Though everyone he ever came in contact with always called him Dwayne. Del at the time was 'Black', and Black stayed inside the cozy home for a long time, occassionally going out for walks with Dwyane but for the most part he pissed in the backyard to save time. Dwyane had a busy schedule and wasn't home most of the day. At about a year old and much larger, nearly his full size, he was accompanying Dwayne a lot more, in fact they were inseperable. Black always walked alongside Dwayne and he always got looks and stares of uncertainty, a lot of people asked if he was friendly and Black figured that was about right since he didn't have a tail to wag at them. Dwayne always said no and so no one ever did touch him, maybe he was more of a prop than a companion but he did enjoy being out of that cozy house that had become so crowded to him. See, Dwayne went to other peoples places of work, their homes, he banged on the doors, yelled softly for them to hurry their asses out and then he'd tap his clipboard and say things like 'you owe so and so a lot of this and that.' Debt collector, is what you would've called it, and much like his dog Dwayne never wagged a tail and he didn't look like the friendliest of people around the Essex area. Dwayne would always encourage Black to get riled up seeing these strangers, get to barking and hopping on his big feet, look real intimidating like those dogs in the movies you know. Black was real good at that, but he never really had to attack anyone, that was the beauty of it and Dwayne always said so. "Isa beau'iful fing." he'd always say on their rides home from a long day of tormenting people. See Dwayne always said fear was mental, sure sometimes it was circumstancial, but for the most part it was mental. People see a big scary black dog with silver eyes and suddenly they start shittin' their pants, you didn't even need to attack them. Just the idea of being attacked was enough to get them talking and nodding and agreeing to pay whatever debt they owed. Dwayne so rarely laid a finger on those people and same for Black. The only people he attacked were the ones that tried to run to their cars and dodge Dwayne, and Black would catch them on the ass or the pant leg and drag them down, it was a fun game and it always kept him alert.

A year and half into the duo's enjoyable lifestyle, Dwayne brought home a ton of boxes, it was an endless stream of heavy cardboard entering their already crowded bachelor pad. All of those boxes belonged to Samantha, Sam for short, and she had those blue eyes that were so crystal clear they looked wide and scary, piercing you with every glance. Sam had been the only thing in Dwayne's life that Black wasn't allowed to bark at and anytime she came over she always frowned at the dog and asked Dwayne if he would consider some cuter breed like a Yorkie or some shit. Dwayne would just laugh and eat his dinner and then as usual they'd go upstairs, lock Black out and fuck like rabbits until morning. Black never really hated or loved Sam and just felt like her prescence was one he didn't care about, he only cared to see his owner. But the day all those boxes came in and never left, neither did Sam, she was there indefinitely and Black and her never really got along. Dwayne started to leave Black at home with Sam as 'protection' even though she consistently told him she felt less safe being alone with Black, that he may maul her to death like on the news. Dwayne laughed and went on to work, always saying that Black would never. Black never did maul her, even though she constantly beat him with sticks, her hands, and even threw things at him if he ever came into a room she was in. He just learned to stay away from her and wait at the door for his man to come home. Unfortunately one day he had been sleeping next to the door, Sam was trying to leave for some sort of function and when she couldn't wake the large dog she decided a swift kick to the ribs would wake him. It did, but the kick jolted Black so hard out of his sleep his teeth immediately clamped onto her leg in utter confusion. By the time he had realized what he just ripped into it was far too late, the woman was screaming and panicking. Called the hospital, called Dwayne and after a long night sitting in the house waiting for their return, Dwayne just gave a real pitiful look towards Black. He slept downstairs that night ont he couch with Black, didn't really sleep, just pet him and kept him company with some chit chat. In the morning they went for their usual walk but it ended at some sort of facility. His collar was stripped and Dwayne walked out those doors and didn't ever come back for the dog who use to be Black.

Victoria & Bugs.
Del stayed in that facility for a couple of months and while people would pass his stall everyday insisting that it was time to put him down, only one person ever reminded them that he wasn't dangerous. A female with dark brown hair and really sweet brown eyes named Victoria, and Del knew very little about her other than she was nice to him. That's all that mattered. She wore a little name tag with a red sticker on it, so she could get into any of the other pens she wanted. Even the most 'aggressive' dogs sat back and relaxed whenever she unlocked their gate to feed them and give them a few pats. But Del was always her favorite and she always called him Babes, why he wasn't sure but she just said he looked like one whenever she'd give him a bath or walk him. Del ended up going home with her one month after she debated with herself for a long time about adopting him, she even had to get a license to own him. Babes had to be muzzled everywhere he went but he was glad to be out of another fucking crowded space. She had a nice place though, a big spacious studio and she did something called modeling when she wasn't volunteering at the shelter. Babes was a glorified house dog which was quite the switch up from being a figurehead guard dog. Most nights he just spent following Vic around, watching her put her lavish makeup on and sitting at the door when she left. There were lots of parties and men around and frankly Babe didn't mind any of it, he loved meeting all the people and women just seemed to swoon over his natural bully smile. They had a fun life and it was clear to Babe that Vic lived in the here and the now which contrasted everything he learned from Dwayne who always had a routine, a schedule, a plan.

Two years in and Victoria had got a modeling contract in Los Angeles, California, what a fucking ride. The two were packed up almost immediately and even though it seemed like a lot of trouble to take the bandog with her she did, she wasn't leaving him behind no way. When they arrived their building wasn't so spacious anymore but Vic promised Babe that would change soon, she just needed to settle. At least he didn't have to wear a muzzle when they walked and in fact the climate was much different. He got a lot more looks of interest than fear, but Vic always said he wasn't out to stud. Says her. See there was this real cute red dalmatian in the same building as them, she was named Lady Bug and Babe respectively nicknamed her Bugs. They went on walks together because Vic became real busy with work and had to call someone to walk her dog, the same walker happened to walk the dalmatian too. What a lucky draw. They'd go to the dog park together and couldn't get enough of each other. It would be hard to say whether their attraction, or at least Babes, was based on emotional attachment or just lust but regardless the two would always gravitate to one another naturally. So much so that one day the dog park gates were left open, Bugs slipped out and well Babes hopped the fence and followed her quicker than the speed of sound. Their walker didn't even realize until they were long gone down the streets of LA, chatting it up and having a good time being temporary strays.

Babes finally got what he wanted that night they spent together on the streets and knocked out so hard when he woke up the next day it was already evening time. Bugs was gone out of sight, likely to return home but Babes didn't know his way through LA like she had. Hell, if it had been London maybe he would've found his way back home but not here, he never did. He went up and down the same street what seemed like a million times and every time he believed he was on a new path he was just running in circles. It took maybe a few days and people were trying to approach him, approach him with a sense of urgency and while Babe was never usually quite skiddish the way they tried to pick him up made him uncertain as hell. So he dodge every person who tried to leash him, worked his way into abandoned houses and buildings at night for shelter and ate out the garbage off the beaches and piers. What he didn't know was that Vic had put out flyers and rewards for his return and she was at home distraught over the lost of her dog. He didn't know, he just didn't want to be caught by a bunch of weird strangers who threw pieces of chicken at him and trembled trying to put a rope around his neck. So, maybe he wasn't Babe anymore since it had been months since he had seen Victoria and after traveling along an extremely long strip of desert road he was no longer an LA dog. He had hit Las Vegas, Nevada and frankly after that he just never stopped moving and eluding the public.

Arturo & The Funky Bunch.
He hadn't been alone for long, only for about six months before he was in the middle of the USA somewhere, no one had any interest in picking him up and frankly he was thin but doing fine on his own. Then he met Arturo, a bull mastiff near double his size as black as night with a few fine lines of red brindling. The first time they met Art joked and said the chimera could be his son and they both laughed at that. He asked what the male's name was and when Arturo found out he didn't have a name (that had stuck) he named him Delano. Said it meant dark swamp or something like that, Del never questioned it because Delano sounded slick as hell anyway. Arturo and Del had only met up on the corners when the garbage was fresh with throwaway food, and they talked and joked most nights and Del was always surprised the large male never showed him anything but sarcasm and kindness. It was all a little suspicious considering how hostile most of the other strays were here in Colorado but there were no complaints on Del's end. He was happy to have some form of company every now and again.

Arturo always complained though, about wanting to go somewhere warmer and how he hated this town, how bored he was and Del wasn't sure if he agreed it was boring but he did give into the interest of being somewhere new. With that little agreement, the two were off out of town but dogs have no concept of states or direction really so, they actually ended up traveling more north east, well into Michigan, it didn't seem too bad at all though and along the way they picked up all sorts of different characters. Assembled what some may even call a pack, a pack of nomads moving across the plains in search of really nothing in particular. Though they had fun, dipping in and out of local businesses, chasing females around those non-fenced in parks and even slithering their ways into peoples homes for a week or two before bouncing all together. Del lived that way well into age three, always on the hip of Arturo who he had nicknamed Pops because of the fatherly role the large mastiff took on with the bandog. The two were close and headed the band of nomadic dogs who were really quite aimless and had no direction in life other than survival and anarchy. During harsh seasons they would always lose a few but when the flowers started to bloom again they easily made those numbers back.

For now this was Del's 'family' and for once he didn't have any owner to follow around. Living on the streets became much easier and Del had grown a sense of direction and easiness navigating his way in and out of near anywhere and anything. Though living with a group of majority rouge males, you always had to remind them why you were in charge. Art and Del were no strangers to settling fights that got picked whether it was with themselves or just members between their pack. For those displays of inherent dominance, Del came out on the other end with a few scars but most notably the rips on his lips. Arturo always said they were purposeful because they looked like goat horns, which he told Del were the signs of the devil. Delano never thought he was that evil though so he just laughed. Though the symbolism seemed to stick, especially when the pack grew in numbers and now- well there were a lot of mouths to feed and a lot of dogs to keep warm and to be one of them you had to give up part of yourself. You had to sign deals with the devil, offer food for protection, and Arturo and Del were starting to become extremely territorial nearly abandoning their nomadic roots. Delano was never above lying to dogs he knew would be of no use to them, promising them a home in the pack if they could do things for him. Get supplies, get food, find stray women- whatever he wanted, whatever was needed for his pack. Del learned how to use people until he didn't need them anymore and learned to throw them away when he was done.

The only one he genuinely stuck close to was Arturo, but one day it was raining while they were up on an overpass. It was slippery but Del and Art always walked on the ledges with no issues crossing and never had a problem with the cars whizzing by. Though it was just one of those days, one where freak accidents happen and maybe they shouldn't have been up on that ledge, but Arturo slipped. He fell a long ways down and that alone would've killed him, but the worst part was that he hit a car. A big ass falling mastiff flew straight down into oncoming traffic and shattered the windshield of the car below. The car flipped, and by the time Del made his way below the overpass, he didn't see anyone inside moving and Arturo's body looked just mangled beyond belief. It was a bloody bad sight. Delano felt pretty distraught over losing Arturo and he sat there all night while the cops and ambulances came and the tow truck to clean it all up. Del never returned back to the pack after that night because he didn't much care to tell them his best friend had died, and frankly he didn't care about the remaining lot anyway, not even the females who had carried his pups. He didn't care, and just wanted to get as far away from the town that held their memories together as he could.

So Delano kept traveling, more and more, still living a nomadic life to this day, but maybe he's ready to fall back into that cycle and false blanket of security once more. If he can handle not being the leader.

Art/Character Design (c) SucioPerro