Biography
Bow in the presence of the King of Hell.
"Many will bear red eyes. Many will bear gruesome, chilling appearances. Many will hunt down every last whelp to secure an infamous reputation. They are all weaklings.
"For, of all of them, there is but one wolf with the true fires of Hell blazing in his own eyes. With a true reason to kill.
"And that wolf, my dear, is Seeker."
It isn't amnesia. It isn't disease. It is...rebirth. But no ordinary reincarnation. No, the demon's fourth reincarnation into this cursed world had wiped his memory. A blank slate. Styx River Pack, Celeste, Sierra, Bardou, King, FireStar...they were all wiped away. Except for the thought of a legion of demons like himself, and the faint figure of a young albino, he remembered nothing. But his old, petrifying habits would never change. In fact, they were tremendously elevated. The living realm would no longer live in peace.
For the Devil in wolf's clothing has just risen from darkness.
He is young, now, and without a pack. He doesn't need one to drag him down. He roams freely now, searching for victims to add to his necklace of claws, those dirty little claws hanging upon a thread of a wolf's tendon.
He is afraid of nothing, all except chains. If anything, you should fear him...
Stats
Total Claws/Kills: 105
Killsheet: NPCs, Fenris (#58856), Juventus (#32264)
Pack Status: founder of SRP
Full Bio: https://www.wattpad.com/story/41913915-blood-and-bravery
Won the Creekies Award of Most Muse for Scenes. Good job.
Have a character in Scene One that you no longer need? PM me, and Seeker can kill off your character.
Muffled cries could be heard close by, along with soft laughter. There was a female, her muzzle bound with various grasses and vines so that she couldn't utter one single coherent word. And a massive brute hovered over her, a malicious grin on his maw. If he had a clearer mind, he would consider such actions immoral. Cruel, horrible. Unfortunately, his mind was very cluttered with sin.
And yet he was growing bored of her attempts to call for help and run off into the sunset. But Seeker refused to just end her existence. He wanted his apprentice to learn the art of execution. "Oh, Peklo!" he called out in a sing-song tone.
A younger male appeared. "What is it, Master?"
"Our new friend...she is very irritating, you see. Might you kindly...show her the way out?" Seeker's grin widened, and Peklo sighed. He knew exactly what "showing her the way out" meant. He wanted to protest, wanted to just free her and escape. But he knew that the Keeper of the Waters would find him and deliver such a horrible punishment, an unthinkable one. And so, he obeyed his master and trudged over to the female. Seeker began to shuffle off, staying within distance so that he could still detect the scent of Peklo and the victim, and so that he could still faintly hear them.
But then he saw someone else. A massive brute. He didn't say anything, he just leaned against the trunk of a tree. And a little picture formed in his mind. It was as if he had seen this male before, but he was certain that this was his first encounter. It was a bit like the Larkspur incident. How peculiar...
Breeding Info
N/A
| Personality
The multi-colored brute ventured the lands, his metal claws clacking against the ground. A name so simple to say, yet so impossible to even mutter in his presence. Seeker. He had returned from the very depths of Hell, dodging a permanent demise that would come from his last disease, Mortem Invocant. He was ruthless and longed for the blood and meat of wolves. His favorite meal. But he knew not of his past, not a bit. All he recalled was a legion of wolves and the faint figure of a young albino. That was all he would remember. He was young once again. His fourth reincarnation, but it felt like he was brought into the world for the first time once again.
"I want to play a game."
Now where had the brute heard that? He snorted and shrugged it off. No matter. The owner of that voice would cease to exist soon, and would be turning into nothing but a feast. His crimson eyes landed on the female, and a malicious grin formed on his maw. "You amuse me," he drawled, showing no fear in his tone.
Smart*ss. Admirable, surprisingly, Seeker thought as he slowly made his way over to the female. Of course, he kept his space, taking a seat four feet away. His metal claws tapped against the ground as if he was playing a drum. But there were no instruments to accompany his rhythm... He wouldn't hear screams for some time. The brute refused to reply with an arrogant remark or sarcasm. He kept it even simpler. "Call me Seeker." Why should he hide his own alias? If he were ever lucky enough to have even a bit of fame, his name would be known. No point in disguising it, even if the chances of him becoming infamous were rather slim. Not that he even minded it. He only cared about the duties he was sent to earth with from Hell. Whether or not infamy will be achieved wasn't a factor in his decisions.
Preferences
The massive brute had found his way atop a hill, near a river. Towards the edge of it he could see a clearing that could've been used as a training area, and on top of the hill was what appeared to be an abandoned camp for a pack. And what a beautiful location. Truly stunning. And what surprised him was how familiar the whole place was. Each rock and boulder, each tree, every inch of land. It was like he already conquered this domain before. And he did, as a matter of fact. With a legion of the land's strongest and most ferocious wolves. But did he remember? No. And yet a powerful vision appeared in Seeker's mind: an army of 'demonic' wolves. Marching through the lands. Claiming territory. And they were all under his rule. Styx River Pack. Those were the three words that came to his mind. The male turned and gazed at his apprentice, Peklo. And the younger male smiled at him as if he knew what his master was thinking. And the massive, demonic brute grinned.
"Peklo...we're home." And the brute tipped his cranium and released a loud, powerful howl.
Styx River Pack would rise again and conquer all.
Styx River Pack
Alpha Male: Seeker (32264)
Alpha Female: none
Beta Male: none
Beta Female: none
Gamma: Salebelie (137472)
Head Healer: none
Healers: none
Head Delta: Equinox (82865)
Deltas:
-Axe (80094)
-Cerebra (27666)
Captain: Hidden (82865)
Subordinates:
-XIII (120591)
Juveniles: none
Pups:
-XVI Duchess (120591)
Omega: Peklo (32264)
To join, message pack #32264 with the name of your wolf, their desired rank and your activity level. For more information, go here: http://wolfplayforums.com/community/viewtopic.php?f=27&t=5892
Special Skills
"Don't. He is deadly."
"Nonsense. He is a canine."
Two humans stared into an abyss. This abyss was a cage to a demon. Seeker.
"Trust me. He cannot be released. It would mean unleashing Hell."
The second human turned to the first. "For the canines," he muttered, folding his hands behind his back. "And...he is to purify. Not mindlessly kill as some faux 'evil' creatures are."
"He already knows too much!" the first argued. "Far too much."
"Easy, easy. His mind will be erased. He will live with a new memory. Not to say that it will not longer be twisted. There are some creatures that have habits...that will never die. It just can't be erased."
They stared into the abyss again and saw the figure. A shadowy figure, for now, stared back with blazing blood red eyes. A truly chilling sight, but it was tame compared to his normal appearance.
The second human looked at the first. "Prepare test subject M13." The first nodded and rushed into the hallway, returning with a multi-colored male wolf and placing it on a long table. The wolf whined as he was strapped down to the table. The second human took the dagger and stabbed him in the heart, then in the head. He took the bloodstained dagger and propped it up next to the table, walking to the abyss.
"Dear Hellhound...it is time for you to live."
The first human took the deceased wolf out of the straps and dragged him to the abyss, pushing him down with a sickening thud.
"Quaesitor non moritur. Grando autem custos ex aquis."
They could hear snarls now. He was coming. They stepped back.
"Oh god..."
They could hear his chilling howl, and knew he was ascending from the abyss. M13 had been possessed by the demon.
"Quaesitor non moritur. Grando autem custos ex aquis."
|
Winter 
Night Weather: 
Brimstone Moon: 
