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Mᴜʀᴠɪᴋ
Mᴀʟᴇ
Fᴀʟʟᴇɴ Aɴɢᴇʟ / Wᴏʟғ
❝Uɴsᴇᴛᴛʟɪɴɢ Eʏᴇs❞
❝Aɴ Uɴɴᴇʀᴠɪɴɢ Sᴍɪʟᴇ❞
❝Dɪsʜᴇᴀʀᴛᴇɴɪɴɢ Wᴏʀᴅs❞
❝Bᴜᴛ A Cᴏɴғɪᴅᴇɴᴛ Vɪʙᴇ❞
❝Sᴇᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴠᴇ Aɴᴅ Mʏsᴛᴇʀɪᴏᴜs❞
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Mᴜʀᴠɪᴋ
Mᴀʟᴇ
Fᴀʟʟᴇɴ Aɴɢᴇʟ / Wᴏʟғ
❝Uɴsᴇᴛᴛʟɪɴɢ Eʏᴇs❞
❝Aɴ Uɴɴᴇʀᴠɪɴɢ Sᴍɪʟᴇ❞
❝Dɪsʜᴇᴀʀᴛᴇɴɪɴɢ Wᴏʀᴅs❞
❝Bᴜᴛ A Cᴏɴғɪᴅᴇɴᴛ Vɪʙᴇ❞
❝Sᴇᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴠᴇ Aɴᴅ Mʏsᴛᴇʀɪᴏᴜs❞
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Name -
Personality -
Early Life -
- I named myself Murvik. I have always been interested in foreign languages, especially those that involve things foreign to our letters. Sanskrit is one of these. It is used primarily in India and it is certainly one of my favorites. I could explain it in detail, but I do not want to damage your brain, so I will simply say what it means. Murvik means Name Of A Creeper. After my original death and my arrival in the afterlife, I was given a choice. I could accept the rules of this place or go on with my dead life on earth. I would be invisible to the living, but I have decided that I am fine with that. I agreed to the latter and returned. This forced me to start anew, giving me a chance to rename myself. I like watching from afar and stalking along if my target is moving. I creep around when I move. I am a creeper, plain and simple.
- As I mentioned, I started anew and renamed myself when I became a fallen angel. My original name was Cambian. It does not mean anything to me, but perhaps it did to my parents. I liked my name well and I figured that it suited me, but starting over meant I could be whoever I want. Maybe I do not really want to be me. This is a chance to be anything.
- I am a male. My muscles are strong and ready to pounce, and I am far braver than any female I have ever met. I am not looking for a mate but if I was I would be looking for someone of the opposite gender. Finding a girl would be hard, however, as most creatures expelled to my realm are males. They are also spread out and not usually too friendly. Returning to the point of this question, I am male, and a straight one at that.
- Age... what exactly do you call that? I can say that I have been around a very, very long time or I can say my body is aged 13 years. You see, after dying, a physical body is frozen. Your outside is cold. If you have bad enough injuries, you may pitied and given a recreation of your old body, one that was good, or have wounds turned to scars, but other than that, you remained as you died. I have roamed for ages... I know at least three decades, but I stopped really caring after that. I may have even been in my dead/alive form for eras, I am unsure. I have been around for uncountable years, to answer your question, but I suppose I am technically thirteen.
- I was a straight up wolf before my death. The base color of my fur was the same grey as it is now, though markings have been added to show that I am not normal. My wings just came as a part of being dead, and I had the hair and piercing before. Now I am considered a falling angel-and a canine one at that. I was an angel living in the clouds, but the strict goodness of that place got to me. A few others felt the same as I did. We spoke our minds and, eventually, started ignoring rules. Our peers were not impressed. They demanded exile, but we did not care. We continued. It was a pretty average day when we were summoned to see a superior. At first, we were not going to attend, but then we decided we may be able to preach there. No such luck. We were instructed either to reform to the normal group or stick to our ways and become loners. Many backed down. Only a few us kept pushing it, and eventually we were all sent away. We were not together, as they feared we may find a way to wreck havoc, so all of us became lone, furry fallen angels. I would never go back to where I came from-I am satisfied now.
Personality -
- I am a smart creeper. Unlike many others of my rank, I like to take things serious and think things through. I am also rather articulate. Some creatures are annoyed by how I speak. Never do I use conjunctions, and I use long words quite a lot. It is often hard to uncover what the meaning of something I say is, even when put in the simplest riddle I can come up with. I like to think I am wise, as I have seen and gone though many things. There are times when others complain of me being a know-it-all but I just scoff at them. If I do not know something I will not say it. As well, I talk rather slowly, which I receive many bored sighs from. If I am telling an interesting story there seems to be more of an audience. In the clouds, I would tell a story and some pups-ones that had died unfortunately young-would gather around. Some got tired of me and abandoned my area, yet others liked my way of talking. They called it rustic. I obviously enjoyed the company of those that saw me interesting, but I still appreciate my alone time. Never had I thought I would have as much as I do now. Still, I have adapted to the quiet and only speak when there is a listening ear. Like you. I am quite interested in learning about others, having a fascination towards them probably as strong as you to I. After all, you are listening. This is why I follow them. Rarely do I actually grow to care for them enough to ever speak to them, but I frequently creep along a traveler or a group of them to learn about them. Messengers are most amusing. They have different customs, different voices and different overall looks. They also tend to have personalities rather strict towards their home. Of course there are those that do their own things, much like how I am different than my other fallen angels, but many follow a pattern. I have learned a great deal about culture and unorthodox lifestyles from following those who cross my vision. You best be careful not to go to sleep tonight while I watch. I suppose you are a bit boring though. You have got no fur, save some strange style atop your head, and are quite certainly not of the flesh I seek. Anyhow, we are supposed to be speaking of myself. I have many insults that I unleash on accident. It is an accident half the time, at least. The aura I carry about me is one of disappointment. Disappointment for myself, for others, for my family. I am shrouded in mystery but I am also fairly bold. I will stand for who I believe is in the right and not flinch when my opponent spits in my face. When not in the midst of a fight, I am often very quiet and reserved. Stories in the clouds were really the only time I told about myself and that was after my death. After my exile I returned to my secretive ways. Some things about me are like those of my peers and others are those of my own. I will allow you to choose whether I am a good guy or bad.
- -Quiet
-Knowledge
-Silence
-The Left Behind
-Other Fallen Angels
-Fear
-Long Words
- -Loud Places
-Crowds
-Illiterate Creatures
-Most Creatures in The Clouds
-Authority
-Water
- - Fighting
- Pushing a point
- Remaining quiet
- Knowing
- - Letting something slide
- Being calm
- Chasing / Running
Early Life -
- I was born to my parents, whose names I have forgotten, in the large pack of Kajilla (Kah-he-ya). We were located in Mexico, not too far from a place referred to as the Grijalva River. The southeast was kind to us. There were places along the river that allowed us to settle with little interaction from humans. For the first months of my life, I did not do much of anything. At some point I was allowed out on my first hunting expedition. All I really did was watch, but I feel that those observations allowed me to know what I was getting into. I was always intrigued by the hunters. They would charge after a small creature relentlessly if the pack needed food. The area we lived in was right next to the river, so we would steal fish from their homes and eat them as well. It was a good life. When I became old enough to hunt, I spent much of my time out in the forest, wandering about without a real goal. I never worried too much for feeding the others. They were strong and everybody often caught their own share, so all I had to do was feed myself and bring something back every now and then. Nobody ever went hungry. The old and nursing were fed by others. I had nothing to think about, nothing to do, and most importantly, no responsibility. I was pretty much wild and free to do whatever I wanted. That was fun at first, being the middle pup no one really cared about, but eventually I found myself too careless. I was swimming in the water one day when it nearly sucked me down. The legend of La Llorona caused fear to surge through my veins as I could have sworn I heard someone cry "Ay, mis hijos!" That meant "Oh, my children" in English. Despite that it was watery and far off, I was scared. Thinking of it now I must have just been imagining it, but I was but a pup then. A surge of adrenaline made my legs flail violently. I was determined not to be another young victim of the grieving mother. Some versions, our version, of the folktale said she would kidnap youngsters, somehow luring them far from home and then holding them beneath the water until they were dead. This was because she had drowned her own kids, humans, and now had to look for their souls so they could be collected and walked to the gates of Heaven with her. If she found someone and they were not who she was looking for, they were goners. She was said to also steal away disobedient kids as well. I fought until I found my feet on shore and my father standing beside me. He expressed concern for me before nudging me to my feet and leading me back to the pack. Just two years old, I felt a bit bad about it, especially as I was lectured about being irresponsible. It was then I decided to try harder for my pack.
- After the incident that I believed was La Llorona scolding me for my recklessness, I started reforming myself. I made sure that I did not stop hunting until the everyone in the pack was fed. Usually, I only fed a few of the group, but that was enough to reassure me that I was doing my part. There were not many rules to abide by so I set my own. I figured I should try to find my way back before dark and sleep at the dens. While I usually strove to do that, I failed sometimes and had to stumble home in the dark of night. The trees surrounding scarcely helped me. I also, as I said before, spent more time hunting. Never did I look for a girlfriend or mate, or really any friends. I stuck to myself. I suppose I made a bit of a relationship with those I fed, but it was little more than an acquaintanceship. My life was simple and I enjoyed it like that. I was not a brute of action, sticking to the sidelines most the time and watching as battles raged on. I suppose I did not value the others too much. In my head, all that matter was me, and I was almost always too busy thinking to talk.
- Death is regarded as a sad thing to many. They miss the deceased and wish for them to come back. I myself was never like that, as I figured that there had to be something beyond the walls of the living. Never did I know what, but I knew there was something. I wanted to know what that something was. It is safe and rather accurate to say I was and still am a curious fellow. I like learning about things, thinking in a new light. I imagined that those passed away must be able to go anywhere and not be tied down or anything. Pack life was not holding me back but my living body was. My impending need to eat, drink, sleep and rest kept me from going out and exploring. As I am now, I can do whatever I please. A fall from a cliff cannot kill me for I am already dead. I suppose that brings me to how I died my first and last death, then went to the clouds and then returned. It was hot and sunny the day I left the earth on death's greatest adventure. Light cascaded between branches and fell upon my back, warming my grey fur as I walked. I did not have wings or markings then. Those things came with being Murvik. As Cambian, I had bright green eyes and the rest of me was simple. Rather bland I suppose. My boring physical self climb up a few rocks, coming to a slight peak that came to the tree tops. It was as close as I could come to an adventure. Now, I was thirteen years old, and that made my joints ache. I rolled over onto my side and let the sun warm my pelt. Hearing a noise, I jumped up. It was painful but I had to make sure the pack was not in danger. My eyes swept over the area, but I could not find the noise. It was then I heard it again. From above me, a loud grinding sound was resonating, echoing slightly. It sounded like claws. I was instantly ready to jump into a fight. From the crest of the cliff I was on, a grey shape peaked out. I would have growled at it but it fell and tumbled down the mountain. My eyes grew wide as I learned I was not dealing with a wolf, but a boulder coming towards me. There was a rock slide. I ran for the slope I used to exit, but I was tripped before I could get there by some of the smaller rumble coming before the big rock. A horrible yelp let its way out of my jaws as I was mowed over by the rock. That is the last thing that happened while I was alive. A noise. The final memory I have of myself-no, Cambian-by is that moment of sheer panic.
- It took a second for me to realize I was above my body. Below me, a bleeding and mangled grey thing was lying. I stared at it for the longest time before someone tapped me on the shoulder. My head spun around and there was a female, staring down at me. She was far larger than anything I had ever seen and the purest color of white. "Come. Cambian, you are departed." she said. Her voice sounded just as innocent as she looked, for her size was not menacing, but comforting, as though she was my protector. "D-departed?" I tried to stutter, but it hardly worked. I looked at my mangled body and realized that I could not speak without a body, for I had no vocal chords. "You have died. I can tell what you try to say, as can other spirits, but you cannot yet, because you are too new. You have yet to be renewed." she explained. Blinding light enveloped us. It was then that I found myself with a new weight on my back. I was unaware what it was, and I had no clue markings colored green had appeared on me. I found myself now just slightly smaller than her. She took me up to the clouds. We came to the gates. Unlike La Llorona, who I had been so sure tried to take my life as a pup, I was given acceptance. I lived with the others until a rebellion came under way. I was growing sick with how strict and perfectly nice everyone was, and a few others of us were as well. Some took our punishments and returned to the world we had left behind. Others decided to just resolve never to do it again. I was one of the ones that returned. You know the story from here. Given a chance to renew myself-renew my mental self along with the physical self I displayed to the world-I changed my name and became exactly who I am today. Things change over time. I have nary a clue if Cambian would say that I am doing good by being quiet and not talking to others, but I, Murvik, believe that this is who I was meant to be. Cambian started careless, became determined, and tried to be helpful. I am who I was as a child. I am careless. Youth is what everyone desires, no? Many believe it is. I do not need youth necessarily, just my carelessness. Just my own world. In my world, nothing goes wrong. In my world, I am Murvik.
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