Hangman

[Hangman]

(MANOR "THE HANGMAN")

- - - - - -the b a s i c s

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Name: Manor (only referred to by nickname; first name is unknown)
Nicknames: Hangman
Age: ageless (six in canine years before death)
Gender: male
Affiliation: Nobody
Canon or Original: Original
Sexual Orientation: straight
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- - - - - -the a p p e a r a n c e

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Height: 36" at shoulder
Weight: 132 lbs.
Hair Color/Style: gray, light brown, and red with jagged spikes
Face Claim: Toboe from Wolf's Rain
Brief Overview:

Hangman has the beautifully mixed fur of any amazing wolf, save for that his fur consists mostly of a dark red and silver. His body is usually quite lean from overexerting himself, and his posture isn't often very correct; he often stands with his head low and his hindquarters close to the ground, slinking along a bit like a cat or limping. This in mind, he doesn't always look very approachable, seeming as though he is up to something wicked or is merely avoiding speaking to others. Hangman has a long, slender muzzle with dark black lips and tiny spots of black and dark gray at the base of his whiskers. His nose is black and is often dry and cracked; it is surrounded by black hairs which stretch up the bridge of his nose to fade off between his light silver and gray brows. He has a hopelessly sad look hidden by determined resolution on his face. His eyes are a deep, dark gold color with honey-brown rings around the black pupils. Around his eyes are grizzled hairs which stretch up into the gray of his ears; the back of his ears are black, which fade down into the dark red of the fur on his neck like a watercolor painting. Like any Mackenzie wolf, he has a very thick, strong neck used for bringing down prey. His shoulders are very high and pointed, and they fade from the dark red down into an old, silvery-gray color. He has large, heavy paws and sharp black claws. His tail is long and bushy, changing from a mix of dark red and gray to grizzled black. His chest is gray as well.

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- - - - - -the p e r s o n a l i t y

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Likes:

Dislikes:

Strengths:

Weaknesses:

Weapons: teeth and claws
Overview:

Quite different from what people may say about those with bipolar disorder, Hangman doesn't switch from angry to happy to sad in a matter of seconds. He will go from a "normal" attitude to a depressed state which can last from a week to months, and he can also go into hypermanic states in which he is a bit more chipper and excitable. In his normal state, Hangman is very quiet and softspoken. The pain that he's felt in his life hangs on every word that he speaks, but within that is also a quiet determination to move past it. His voice is very calm and rarely gets louder than a momentary snap. He lets his opinion be known, but at the same time, he doesn't force his opinion on others. He's a wonderful debater, as he can often come up with a reasonable rebuttle for any counterarguments, and he even seems to enjoy debating and having wordy-skirmishes with others. He can be seen smiling faintly in a normal behavior, or he can be seen with a sadness in his eyes. He can be sad without being depressed, and he's learned to know the difference. In his normal behavior, he will hunt when he is hungry, drink when he's thirsty, talk when he's lonely, and sleep when he's tired. His other states, on the other hand, are quite different.

In the depressive state, Hangman becomes lethargic and depressed for weeks on end. If he's only sad for a few days, then it isn't the depression, it's merely being sad. The depression comes and goes as it pleases, in both the highs and the lows of his life, and he has no way of avoiding it. In the depressive state, he has no appetite, does not sleep, does not talk, tends to hang around in the shadows, and finds joy in nothing. His thoughts are usually very slow, and any responses he makes to others are very slow. In a depressive state, he would have no drive to save himself were he to be attacked. He would merely let himself die without so much as twitching a muscle. In the depressive state, he may also be more irritated, but he is generally more apathetic and unresponsive than grouchy. If he goes for weeks on end in the depressive state, his body will work on its own to eat whatever is even slightly edible, for it works on its survival instinct. If a female in heat were to walk in front of him and even flaunt herself, he will still remain unresponsive and likely even leave her presence. Because he cannot forgive himself for Pari's death, he refuses to mate with another; aside from that, he will not defile a woman just to satisfy his own brutish cravings.

The hypermanic state is much less frequent, as it is with many suffering from Type I Bipolar Disorder, and generally those symptoms remain hard to differentiate from the "normal" behavior. In a full hypermanic state, Hangman becomes quite unlike himself, suddenly becoming quite chipper, talkative, and frivolous, acting on impulse and an odd burst of energy rather than through thought. He will hunt whenever it pleases him to spend energy to hunt, and he will often only get halfway through a meal before forgetting about it and trotting off the other way. In his mix of normality and hypermania, he is restless, often not sleeping for days at a time, and he will be constantly on the move. He will be quite approachable, though his posture will not change; he'll merely be more friendly. When acting on impulse, he will attack any creature who he feels is too cocky and arrogant for their own good. The one thing that does not change in this state is his unwillingness to mate with a female whom he does not love.

In all of his states, there are some constants. He will always obey a female, regardless of who she is and what she's asking him to do - unless, of course, she's telling him to mate with her, in which case his response will be a resounding no. He is highly respectful of women and treats them like goddesses, often earning him much love and respect among women. Another constant is his "Doctor Kevorkian" trait. He often assists in suicide. He does it after making absolutely certain that the creature is suffering enough to require death, and he makes absolutely certain that death is truly what they desire. He does it with much care and concern, causing the victim to pass out before cutting their throats, ensuring that their death is quick and peaceful. He is often the quiet devil on one's shoulder telling them to "jump". He never talks about himself or of his past life, and though he is, indeed, longing for a mate, he isn't actively searching for one; he believes that, if he is destined to be in love again, love will find him.

The fact that Hangman is a Nobody, but still has fake emotions (i.e. manic bipolar disorder), shows how well Nobodies are crafted and how intricate they can be.

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- - - - - -the h i s t o r y

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Mother: Lithian (deceased)
Father: Angorik (deceased)
Siblings: Naome (deceased)
Mate: Pari (deceased)
Offspring: Ellara, Kiya, Lu (all deceased)
Homeworld: Hexasol (from Conflicting Rivals, a canine and feline roleplay ; the bio is mine)
Overview:

The winter in which the two Mackenzie wolf pups were born was quite mild and calm, never getting more than ten degrees below zero and resulting in only two combined feet of snow. The mother and father, Lithian and Angorik, had broken away from their pack to have some privacy while they mated, and by the time they had returned home, the pack had moved on without them. The pair settled into the deserted plains beneath a fallen oak tree, where they lived until the birth of their two pups, Naome, a long pale brown baby girl, and Manor, a strong red and gray male. While Lithian remained at home in the shelter of the oak trees, Angorik went in and out of Hexasol and the fields in order to hunt and provide for his family. He ran himself a bit ragged, as he suffered with Bipolar Disorder and hyperactivity, but he kept his family safe. It was rare that humans wandered through the deserted plains, so they remained unbothered.

Naome was remarkably beautiful, having very long legs and a very sleek, smooth coat - courtesy of her mother's constant washing; half of her charm came from the baby fat around her face and her big blue eyes. She was the apple of her father's eye, very loved. Manor was a bit thin for his age and gender, but he had a shocking coat of dark red and burning eyes of gold. He was the second child, only slightly younger, and, naturally, he felt he lived in the shadow of his sister. Despite this, he loved her dearly. Within the first six months, Manor had caught up and far exceeded the size of his age, gaining some weight around his face and long legs and growing as tall as Naome, though certainly appearing more masculine by the thickness of his neck and stolidity of his chest. They played well and often, as many pups did, and they made life easy for their hyperactive father and doting mother.

By the time the first winter that the pups would remember arrived, Naome had become thin and weak. Try as she might, Lithian couldn't sway the pup to eat and drink. Some unknown illness had seized the little red child, and after a month of suffering, she passed away in a rather violent fashion, seizing spasmodically and frothing at the mouth before going limp with death. It had been a terrifying sight for Manor to watch, but Angorik could not pull the pup away from it. He acknowledged, unwittingly, that he was interested in watching her die. Though a bit scared for their son's well-being, the family of wolves moved on with their lives. By the time Manor had reached two years of age, it was clear that Angorik had been wearing himself too thin trying to care for his remaining family. He was emaciated and dehydrated, as well as being quite elderly, but he continued fighting for life until spring came, when he died.

The humans, too, had passed away by the time Manor was two and a half, and Lithian and Manor were free to leave their home, since the city was being inhabited by other wolves, thus emptying out some of the dens in other parts of the country. They settled into a part of the meadow just outside the forest, away from the bustling city life and other packs. Lithian had become frail now, and Manor was free to come and go as he pleased; his love for his mother went deeper than merely love. He would willingly die for her, for she was his queen. He hunted for her and cared for her like his father, Angorik, had once done. It was clear to Lithian, however, that Manor was also suffering from Type I Bipolar Disorder, as he went through lulls of depression and unwillingness to eat and bouts of hyperactivity where he would rarely sleep or eat. Lithian worried for her son, but, as with her mate, she was unable to keep him contained and help him make choices that were good for his condition.

When Manor experienced a long state of depression, Lithian decided to take the load off of him and hunt for herself. She came upon an injured bat writhing on the ground and, without thinking about it, she began to try to eat it. Naturally, fearing for its life, it began to squirm and writhe and fight back. One fateful bite and Lithian became infected with the rabies virus. Still, despite her bite, she said nothing to Manor. After three weeks, Manor came out of his depression, returning to an almost normal state of behavior. By this time, Manor began to notice changes in his mother's behavior, as well as noticing scabs resembling a bite mark on her muzzle. She was having odd hallucinations about Angorik, constantly salivating, unable to sleep, and overheating, as well as complaining of headaches whenever her speech was intelligible.

Within ten days, Lithian was dead as a result of the rabies virus. Manor was now alone, and, being that he was occasionally depressed and unable to force himself to eat, he knew he could not afford to be alone. He needed to find a mate to take care of him; however, he refused to take advantage of someone like that. Ever since he'd been a pup, he had believed in true love, and he wouldn't use someone without giving them something in return. Since he had nothing but his own love to give, he was determined to find a mate - hopefully before he entered his next lull of depression. Shortly after his mother's death, he ventured into the city of Hexasol; after finding nothing, he returned home, and he did the same for several months. By his third year of life - one year after the humans had disappeared - he had ventured into Hexasol to the same exact place every single day, having not entered a depressive state for quite some time.

One day after Manor had returned home, he came to find a lovely wolf - a timber wolf of about two and a half years of age - sitting in his nest. He regarded her with calmness and curiosity, and she told him that she had seen him going into Hexasol for half a year and decided to finally follow him and find out what he was searching for. Though it was not love at first sight, the fateful friendship grew. Manor and Pari became mates when Pari was three and Manor was three and a half, and their love continued to blossom, seeming to follow the pattern of an ancient courting than of modern-day hump-and-dump. He would bring her flowers and prey, and she would lick his ears affectionately when he slept. They were in love, and their peaceful and undisturbed life in the meadow was perfect. That is, until he suddenly sank into depression.

Pari was terrified for him, for he wouldn't eat for over a week. She could barely sleep because he couldn't sleep, and she didn't ate because she feared for him. Despite this, Manor couldn't bring himself to care that she, too, was starving, and it was his fault. He became entirely unresponsive to her, and, though Pari felt unloved and unwanted, she stayed, begging him to talk to her and care for her like he had. Once he came out of the relatively short depression, he explained his disorder, and, despite it, she loved him. Overjoyed by this, they mated, and shortly afterwards, they found out about her pregnancy. Manor feared that their children would inherit his bipolar disorder, but Pari insisted that she would love them despite any and all of their imperfections. Manor took wonderful care of Pari, and he became the one to lick her ears as she slept. He hunted for her and brought her water once she'd become so burdened that she didn't like to walk.

When it came time for their cubs' birth when Manor was four and Pari was three and a half, it was a very slow and painful process accompanied by a large amount of blood. Manor was terrified when Pari became faint and stopped being able to heave to push the babies out on her own. She had always had weak hips, Manor knew, and he blamed himself for not knowing that the pregnancy would hurt her. The first pup was a stillborn, though it received the name of Ellara. The second pup was named Kiya, and its birth had taken twice as long as the first, as Pari had only enough strength to push every few minutes, and they were weak pushes. Kiya managed to survive the birth, but its breaths were shallow and ragged; it hadn't even the strength and energy to cry out. During the third pup's birth, Pari stopped moving and responding completely. Manor had no idea what to do, so for several minutes, all he could do was pace from side to side.

Finally terrified for the life of the third pup, Manor returned to Pari's side and began pressing against her stomach to try to force what was assumed to be the last pup out. It rolled out in a pathetic sack of blood and sludge, completely unresponsive, but after some forceful urgings from Manor's tongue, the pup - Lu - let out a shrill squeal. Manor quickly ushered the two living pups to his mate's belly, praying that her milk would work for a while yet. They suckled, and all the while the numb Manor lay around the head of his mate, licking her ears that were cold as death. He passed out, and when he awoke several hours later, the two pups were stiff and dead and cold like ice. Manor had nothing left to live for in the meadow, and it brought back the memory of the deaths of the two females he'd loved most. The Mackenzie wolf wandered through Hexasol, in and out of the city and through pieces of the country but always avoiding the meadow.

During his wanderings, some of the creatures who named him whispered of a new name - Hangman - and Manor found it quite fitting. The gallows were a tool of death amongst the late human race, so why not be named the Hangman? So he changed his name from Manor to Hangman, and the quiet, depressive pacifist known as Manor grew to be nothing. The new Hangman began to search for creatures who were in pain or suffering from loss or depression; he became the gentle voice on the wind, the devil on one's shoulder who whispered "Jump." He was responsible for several of the suicides and even several of the murders that occurred in Hexasol. However, any assisted suicides were done in the most peaceful way possible, first cutting off the flow of oxygen to the brain by gently closing his teeth around and blocking the jugular veins to cause his victim to pass out and then by biting into those veins, causing them to bleed out.

Every kill he made was made with the victim's permission and done with all the gentleness and love of the angel of death. After that, Hangman never really made himself a home. He merely wandered and slept wherever he passed out that night. His depressive states continued, even though part of him was put at peace for putting others at peace. At the age of six, two years after his mate and his pups' deaths, his world - Hexasol - was conquered by darkness and the Heartless. Though his life was full of misery, his heart had been made strong, and his will had been made steel from his sufferings, so he awakened as a wolf-formed Nobody. He continued with his so-called function of bringing peace to those in pain.

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- - - - - -the p l a y e r

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Name: Elaine / Suma
Age: 16
How Did You Find Us? TCL
Roleplay Sample:n/a


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This application was made by JADE of Final Distance.

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