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CountofTuscany
Star
- Joined
- Jun 29, 2009
- Location
- Chile
Alexander was in the school's archaic and gigantic library. A place of knowledge and wisdom for all those that sought it. Yet, not many people were interested in taking that wisdom or knowledge, they just wanted to let their emotions and ideas to stair them through life, this just got them into troubles. Though you could say one's life had a certain pathos, Alex refused to believe in the tale of Destiny. He was a fighter, a warrior, passionate about the idea that one could do anything they wished, even though his way of fighting wasn't necessarily all that violent, nor active. Alexander clearly couldn't see, even though it was in front of his nose, that somethings were just meant to be.
Alexander Colmillo came from a long noble line of Spanish werewolves. Though his side of the family had move out of Spain since the colony days, the strong warrior blood boiled inside his body, he was doomed a werewolf for the rest of his life. He did not understand it though, his essence was not that of a werewolf, if it would have been up to him, Alexander would have been born a demon, or something that was more related to the dark arts or magical fields. Alexander tried fiercely to do magic in his spare time, learn it, and use it, because frankly, he sucked at being a werewolf, even more so, a noble werewolf.
Alexander was not a really tall guy, but managed to be there, average, around 5'11". Amongst his family, he was the smallest one, his cousins called him the runt when they were kids, he never grew out of that position really. He was also kind of skinny, and frail, something odd for a werewolf. He never showed off his skills, abilities, talents or muscles. He preferred to keep his body under jackets and jeans, and his face behind a pair of glasses and long messy brown hair. His body was completely pale, something that his mother and sisters bothered him for: "A werewolf of this line should not look so trashy as you." they would repeat to him. To them it was all about the line, all about the pureblood, the pedigree.
Angered by thought of the fact that he could not pull off the small telekinetic technique after about three weeks of trying, and the reminder of his sisters, he shut the current book with much force and left it at the table next to all the other ones. He stood up, and couldn't help but sniff the air, a new book caught his attention to his left. There was a possibility that Alex was pressured by something else even greater than all of that. It was the fact that at his current age of 17, he still had not turned into a werewolf. This lead him to believe that he really wasn't a werewolf, and it scared his family of this fact. Alexander felt a profound bond to the magical arts, even though his animal fire didn't allow him to advance much, he was way passed what any normal werewolf would care to know about magic. This was because instead of being out there working out, or trying to lay women or find his pack, Alex was a bookworm stuck in the library trying to learn things that he wasn't adept to learn, the nature of a werewolf was much to bestial for the discipline of magic, and even he had trouble focusing so profoundly sometimes.
To his left, there was a dark lonesome shelf. A lonesome girl he knew was there studying as well, he never cared for her much, she was kind of quite and they never really got to know each other very much. She had moved a book from the bottom shelf, making another small one drop. The scent of this book was peculiar, Alex could perceive that it was old, possibly ancient. He sniffed it again, it was flooded in Lupung, a werewolf language based on scent scratches and emotions. The girl ignored the book and soon left it there back to her study station. Alex said nothing, and walked over to the small book. As he grabbed it the scents of it grew intensely, he wondered how come no one else had felt it.
He picked up the book, it had a soft cover with a few scratches and it's smell was primarily of pride. It could be translated into "The Alpha way" or something like that. Intrigued by it, he opened it. The book was more of a booklet or notebook than a book itself, it didn't even have a bar code or library stickers. He took the book, reading the author's name: "Tier'Loup". He thought this name rang a bell, but wasn't sure where from. To keep his mind off his frustration he went back to his own corner and sat down to read the first pages.
At first, the book seemed like a joke. The man, or wolf-man, claimed to have found the key to becoming an alpha male. How could that be? One was born alpha, not made into one. But the book claimed that it had techniques and methods of not climbing the ranks of a pack, instead, start one from scratch and becoming your own alpha male. This was really surprising, he really didn't know how to process it, but the idea did make him feel a bit hopeful, or perhaps he was just smelling that from the introduction, he continued on anyways.
... ... ...
Hours had passed, and Alex had not realized one bit. He continued to read and smell the book, and it was phenomenal. The logic was bullet proof, and the theories and ideas that were in there all clicked to give him a new way to picture the underworld culture and society. As if there was something he had missed all along, and now things made sense, specially in the werewolf niche. In the three hours he had spent reading the book, he had read about the psychology of a bitch, and other wolf males. It went into philosophical debates about the sublimity of being a werewolf, all about letting the conscious free and the body the ruler. It was another way of looking at his own culture. It wasn't about being shallow, as he perceived it before, it was about reaching empiric euphoria, the maximum expression of existence on Earth.
The book was much longer that it seemed. The writing was small, and full of scented notes and scratches. And now that he had just gobbled up the abstract part of his culture, he was starting to understand the basis of packs and women. There was something about being a wolf that began to make him proud, after shunning his own legacy for so long, soon he began to feel it part of his soul, as all wolves should. He had understood why sex was such a big part of their culture, and why things were the way they were, it was something new and inspiring a bit. He felt like experimenting a bit of what it told, but first he wanted to study further.
Alex spent the next week entirely, trying decipher the book. There were scents he had never felt before, some of them strong and powerful, others that were dying away. Some scratches were codes he had not figured out either, he eventually came to the conclusion that he needed to go through the werewolf form at least a few times to identify them. Werewolves connected through shared experiences, so they tended to want to experiment everything, Alex himself had not been, until now, so fond of that way of life, he preferred to share experiences through knowledge and words instead of comparing the individual ones. But this book showed him that he needed to change his act around, and it showed him that he could make his own pack, he didn't need to search for one to accept him, and now that the ideas were a bit clearer and some of the tips were down in his head, he was ready to test them.
Alex was walking through the hall of the school, thinking about one of the ideas. The idea of pride as something to use as a strength, and not as a sin, as Alex had previously perceived. He walked up right, his shoulders a bit back, chest kind of out in the air, his eyes up straight and a smile on his face. This was something new for him, and he now seemed more like a regular werewolf.
Alexander Colmillo came from a long noble line of Spanish werewolves. Though his side of the family had move out of Spain since the colony days, the strong warrior blood boiled inside his body, he was doomed a werewolf for the rest of his life. He did not understand it though, his essence was not that of a werewolf, if it would have been up to him, Alexander would have been born a demon, or something that was more related to the dark arts or magical fields. Alexander tried fiercely to do magic in his spare time, learn it, and use it, because frankly, he sucked at being a werewolf, even more so, a noble werewolf.
Alexander was not a really tall guy, but managed to be there, average, around 5'11". Amongst his family, he was the smallest one, his cousins called him the runt when they were kids, he never grew out of that position really. He was also kind of skinny, and frail, something odd for a werewolf. He never showed off his skills, abilities, talents or muscles. He preferred to keep his body under jackets and jeans, and his face behind a pair of glasses and long messy brown hair. His body was completely pale, something that his mother and sisters bothered him for: "A werewolf of this line should not look so trashy as you." they would repeat to him. To them it was all about the line, all about the pureblood, the pedigree.
Angered by thought of the fact that he could not pull off the small telekinetic technique after about three weeks of trying, and the reminder of his sisters, he shut the current book with much force and left it at the table next to all the other ones. He stood up, and couldn't help but sniff the air, a new book caught his attention to his left. There was a possibility that Alex was pressured by something else even greater than all of that. It was the fact that at his current age of 17, he still had not turned into a werewolf. This lead him to believe that he really wasn't a werewolf, and it scared his family of this fact. Alexander felt a profound bond to the magical arts, even though his animal fire didn't allow him to advance much, he was way passed what any normal werewolf would care to know about magic. This was because instead of being out there working out, or trying to lay women or find his pack, Alex was a bookworm stuck in the library trying to learn things that he wasn't adept to learn, the nature of a werewolf was much to bestial for the discipline of magic, and even he had trouble focusing so profoundly sometimes.
To his left, there was a dark lonesome shelf. A lonesome girl he knew was there studying as well, he never cared for her much, she was kind of quite and they never really got to know each other very much. She had moved a book from the bottom shelf, making another small one drop. The scent of this book was peculiar, Alex could perceive that it was old, possibly ancient. He sniffed it again, it was flooded in Lupung, a werewolf language based on scent scratches and emotions. The girl ignored the book and soon left it there back to her study station. Alex said nothing, and walked over to the small book. As he grabbed it the scents of it grew intensely, he wondered how come no one else had felt it.
He picked up the book, it had a soft cover with a few scratches and it's smell was primarily of pride. It could be translated into "The Alpha way" or something like that. Intrigued by it, he opened it. The book was more of a booklet or notebook than a book itself, it didn't even have a bar code or library stickers. He took the book, reading the author's name: "Tier'Loup". He thought this name rang a bell, but wasn't sure where from. To keep his mind off his frustration he went back to his own corner and sat down to read the first pages.
At first, the book seemed like a joke. The man, or wolf-man, claimed to have found the key to becoming an alpha male. How could that be? One was born alpha, not made into one. But the book claimed that it had techniques and methods of not climbing the ranks of a pack, instead, start one from scratch and becoming your own alpha male. This was really surprising, he really didn't know how to process it, but the idea did make him feel a bit hopeful, or perhaps he was just smelling that from the introduction, he continued on anyways.
... ... ...
Hours had passed, and Alex had not realized one bit. He continued to read and smell the book, and it was phenomenal. The logic was bullet proof, and the theories and ideas that were in there all clicked to give him a new way to picture the underworld culture and society. As if there was something he had missed all along, and now things made sense, specially in the werewolf niche. In the three hours he had spent reading the book, he had read about the psychology of a bitch, and other wolf males. It went into philosophical debates about the sublimity of being a werewolf, all about letting the conscious free and the body the ruler. It was another way of looking at his own culture. It wasn't about being shallow, as he perceived it before, it was about reaching empiric euphoria, the maximum expression of existence on Earth.
The book was much longer that it seemed. The writing was small, and full of scented notes and scratches. And now that he had just gobbled up the abstract part of his culture, he was starting to understand the basis of packs and women. There was something about being a wolf that began to make him proud, after shunning his own legacy for so long, soon he began to feel it part of his soul, as all wolves should. He had understood why sex was such a big part of their culture, and why things were the way they were, it was something new and inspiring a bit. He felt like experimenting a bit of what it told, but first he wanted to study further.
Alex spent the next week entirely, trying decipher the book. There were scents he had never felt before, some of them strong and powerful, others that were dying away. Some scratches were codes he had not figured out either, he eventually came to the conclusion that he needed to go through the werewolf form at least a few times to identify them. Werewolves connected through shared experiences, so they tended to want to experiment everything, Alex himself had not been, until now, so fond of that way of life, he preferred to share experiences through knowledge and words instead of comparing the individual ones. But this book showed him that he needed to change his act around, and it showed him that he could make his own pack, he didn't need to search for one to accept him, and now that the ideas were a bit clearer and some of the tips were down in his head, he was ready to test them.
Alex was walking through the hall of the school, thinking about one of the ideas. The idea of pride as something to use as a strength, and not as a sin, as Alex had previously perceived. He walked up right, his shoulders a bit back, chest kind of out in the air, his eyes up straight and a smile on his face. This was something new for him, and he now seemed more like a regular werewolf.