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Warrior Diatori

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Warrior Diatori

Post by Warrior Diatori on Tue 22 Apr - 11:54

- Name: Diatori A. Garrison

- Gender: Male

- Age: 313

- Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

- Pack Position: Warrior

- Appearance: Diatori in his human state looks much like a light  boxer, not the biggest around, but has great definition and tone. Weighing at only 150 pounds, and a height at 6'2'', giving him this tall and slender appearance. He has a continuous, tan skin tone, and has two tattoos. One on each shoulder blade, and one on his stomach. The artwork on his right shoulder blade consists of a wolf's head that has Native American chief head wear. On the left shoulder blade is a quote written in a Gothic font reading: "I am the architect of my own destruction..." The portrait on his stomach is very detailed like the others, giving his skin the illusion of it being shredded. Behind the shredded area is the night sky with a large full moon in the sky, and a wolf's head pointed up towards it howling. The wolf had a golden color, and the moon was silver, the rest of the sky was black with little white dots randomly plotted. Besides that, Diatori's eyes are a greenish color, and his hair had been bleached blonde. Despite his old age, he appeared to be in his early-mid twenties.

Diatori's wolven form resembles nothing of his human. His eyes change from a light greenish to a golden color. His hide consists of many colors, black, white, tan, and reddish brown. The majority of his fur is a collection browns, his back and some of his head has black and white. When in sun, or bright moon light, his pelt seems to glow, or glimmer, giving this illusion of being made of gold. The beast's height is measured at maybe a little over 10 feet, with visible muscular definition. With spearhead teeth in his muzzle, and dagger like nails grown from his paws, the wolf is a perfect predator.

- Face Claim: Brad Pitt

- Human Photo:

- Wolf Photo:

- History: Diatori was born into a pure blooded pack, Bitten, or half bloods weren't accepted as equals, and if there was one in the pack, they were Omegas or servants. Luckily Diatori was birthed as a pure blood. The entire pack were Native Americans, pretty much all roots led back to the Apache tribe. The story was that one man had went out hunting with his best men, and came back alone, with the skin of a large wolf hung on his head. That night the man shifted into the wolf he had killed, and he hunted down his tribe members like prey. He awoke the next morning in human form, the survivors, including the chief, had banished him from their lands. That was the story Diatori grew up on, and his beliefs could never be changed. As he grew up, he ran with the pack in his human form, along with the other children. He had learned to climb trees, and other obstacles very well, hopping tree from tree watching his pack members hunt in their wolven forms. Their pack had never had a set place to live. They traveled all around the southern area of Canada, following the hunt. When Diatori had turned thirteen, the tribe had the usual ceremony. Camp was set-up in a valley, full of wilderness. Night had fallen upon the pack and the large fire was lit. The pack members that could shift to their wolven forms did, they sat around the fire bowing their heads, the children watched from the trees above. Diatori was sitting in the circle with the wolves, and he felt it come upon him. The colorful hide sprouted from his body, and he grew. He was the biggest wolf they had seen besides the Alpha. The pack howled, and the hunt was on.

Diatori came back with his wolven pack mates with his first catch, a large white tailed deer. A feast occurred, and the pack slept. Twenty years had past, and Diatori had fallen in love with unlikely member. The pack's Omega, a half blood. They loved in secret for two years without suspicion, and then she became pregnant during mating season. Their secret was out, and the Alpha was furious. Diatori's parents had disowned him, and he was forbidden from seeing his love. That night he was put on the hunting party. He arrived back at camp after the long hunt, to be stricken with anger. The hunting party usually splits up to gather more food, so that's what Diatori thought had happened. Instead he was abandoned, the camp was packed up, and the charred wood on the ground was dried up, not a scent for miles. Morning was rising upon the sky, and Diatori's heart sunk, he shifted back to human and ran towards the slightest scent of his pack. He sprinted for miles, his muscles began tearing, and aching. He was becoming parched, and he lost faith. He slowed down and fell on his knees, tears fell from his eyes, washing away the crusted war paint on his cheeks. Diatori slumped in the middle of a meadow for hours, watching herds of deer eat next to him. Spoken to, only by his wolf, his only friend, family. Diatori stood once again, the deer dashed off sketchily. He walked slowly across the meadow to a small creek, where he had collapsed in, drinking the water in large portions, and cooling himself off. The paint came off easily, and his dark hair cleansed quickly. He fell asleep in the comfortable shallow water, and awoke when the smell of smoke smacked him in the face.

A small group of Cherokee tribe members surrounded him, speaking Cherokee. Luckily Diatori had learned most Native languages from his pack. He responded to them, and the men sighed. They helped Diatori up, and directed him to their home lands, just to the East of him. Diatori nodded, and thanked them, and started towards the Cherokee tribe. He noticed the sky was becoming dimmer, and the moon was rising. The full moon was upon him, and before he could get out of sight from the Cherokee hunting party, he shifted. The moon light hit his colorful hide, the lighter brown areas on his hide began to glow in a golden color, giving him this illusion of a god in the Cherokee eyes. They fell on their knees and praised him, they led him to their land, without finishing the hunt, and the rest of the tribe praised him as well. They believed that he was a sun god that had fallen when the moon had risen. Others believed he was a demon, a skinwalker cursed by a witch or warlock. Although some did not like his existence, the chief did, and allowed Diatori to live with them for a good hundred years. During the day, Diatori would run, and hunt in the forest, and arrive at night in his wolven form. On New Moon nights, he would hide up in the trees, watching over the hunting party without them knowing. Diatori lived with the tribe through two chiefs, the third, believed he was an omen. 1851, the white men from Europe had established tribal reservations, the Chief had blamed Diatori, and destroyed any kind of source that had to do with Diatori's existence, artwork, things like that. He was hunted by the tribe that had adopted him as one of their own. Diatori had become cornered by the men. He was forced to shift, and murder the men he had once trusted.

Diatori then adapted to the next environment he was being exposed to. The Revolutionary War past by, then the Civil War, and during all this time, Diatori had been blending in as a hunter, he would catch his prey, an trade the items with various people, he wore what they wore, and he cut his hair short, and his tan skin wasn't enough to make him appear native. All he did was travel, and one day he decided to visit migrate towards Europe. He arrived in Great Britain, and lived in an abandoned farm house for a good amount of time, there his wolf had earned the name Royal. He then traveled back to America. And Diatori had to blend in once again. He cut his hair short, and bleached it blonde, and lived in New York city. There he smelled a scent he hadn't smelt in a long time, a wereling. He pushed through the crowd, and navigated himself into an alley. There he had found Eternal Darkness, or at least what was left of it. Diatori searched for clues and found things that lead to the new location, France. So Diatori left to Europe once again to mend a pathway to his future.
-Since Finding Caedesque-
 Diatori had found Caedesque, and there he was accepted by his now Alphess. He has just begun to get used to his new home, not many events occurring which allowed him to get settled into the large castle. He's been more layed back then he's ever been. Border patrol was easy, and nothing ever happened, training was quiet simple, especially because he was by himself. He didn't know much of anyone, but that didn't seem to bother him, and the few friends that he had would be the ones he knew he could trust.
Warrior Diatori

Posts : 10
Join date : 2014-04-12
Age : 20
Location : Christmas Island

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