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Koilada — DotW || Xochipilli
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Published: 2021-01-31 04:48:27 +0000 UTC; Views: 7075; Favourites: 64; Downloads: 0
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Description
Guess who's back
back again
EDIT [4/1/22]: Minor profile edits/additions.
Relationship Tracker || Roleplay Tracker
[ When did life become so complicated?
Years of too much thought and time I wasted
And in each line upon my face,
Is proof I fought and lived another day
When did life become this place of madness?
Drifting on an empty sea of waves of sadness?
I make believe I'm in control,
And dream it wasn't all my fault ]
-- Finding Neverland
-----| BASIC INFORMATION |-----
NAME: Xochipilli
[SHO - chi - pil - lee] - Nahuatl - "Prince of Flowers"
"Xochi"
“Xo”
SEX: Male
AGE:
Young Adult | 3 years
PACK: Xassa
RANK: Omega
HOMELAND: Azul (Outside Domain)
-----| APPEARANCE |-----
A soft green eye peeks out from caramel-chestnut flames while the other refuses to light.
HEIGHT: 85cm | 33.5"
WEIGHT: 35kg | 78lb
BUILD:
✿ Somewhat feminine-looking. Coupled with his relatively short size (for a male), he’s often mistaken for a girl.
✿ Soft, rounded, delicate features
✿ Twiggy and lithe in figure
✿ “Scoop snoot” (aka his facial structure sweeps in an arc)
✿ Small-ish, rounded ears
✿ Incredibly soft, downy, plush fur
✿ Too much volume; Mane for days. Cowlicks everywhere.
✿ Torn scars across right eye and shoulder, clearly from multiple attacks that prevented healing
✿ Right eye is unable to open fully due to scar tissue. Iris is torn, exposing the sightless pupil beneath.
✿ Expression is most often set in a soft smile
VOICE: Luke Brady
✿ Speaks politely
✿ Soft and kind, but as with Xochi himself, holds an air of melancholy
✿ A happy tone often masks his feelings or inner turmoil
SCENT:
Flowers. Lots and lots of flowers.
-----| PERSONALITY |-----
Xochi is a wolf who constantly has his mind in his past; his fondness, his feelings, his regrets, all of it. Melancholy follows him as if it were a scent in his coat, and he spends most of his free time in quiet maudlin, his heart a sickening mix of sentimental and guilt-ridden. He longs for a time and a home that he’s left behind, and the wolves he adored with the happiness they brought.
Soft smiles and kind gazes are not a facade in this case; Xochipilli is a genuinely sweet wolf who finds some semblance of purpose in helping others, whether it be a shoulder to cry on, a source of reassurance, or simply an errand-runner. Even going out of his way to find gifts, anything he can do to make those he cares about feel good.
Having spent a lot of his life in a war, Xochipilli has lost most non-emotional or interpersonal regards for danger. He will gladly charge into the flames, no matter what the consequence, to achieve what he wills - usually this is helping or fighting for others; if a packmate were to drop their favourite pebble down a ravine, you can bet Xo will be the first wolf braving the descent to retrieve it.
Xochipilli has so little regard for himself that it’s concerning. He doesn’t much see the value in himself, ever weighed down by his lack of self-worth, so he happily puts everyone and everything before his being, physically, mentally, and emotionally. While this selflessness is usually put to good use towards others, he very willingly does so as a detriment to himself and thus he comes off as very blasely self-sacrificial.
Courteous and decent, Xochi is a wolf with a sense of proprietary that has left him with very little flirtatious experience with the opposite sex. Due to both his morals and lack of experience, he is very easily flustered by advances by interested parties, as well as being praised in general.
---- [ P O S I T I V E ] ----
You won’t find a wolf with better manners than this whitish wolf. Xochipilli tries his hardest to be courteous and accommodating with everyone he meets, even if they don’t extend the same to him. This is something he learned from someone he adored in the past, so he wishes to uphold her preference for polite mannerisms as best as he can.
Shame is what made Xochipilli run, and shame is what informed his honourable attitude today. Typically honest and genuine with everything but his own feelings, it’s a moral he extends outwards to others. He deeply wishes to make up for the past in some way, to use the life he deemed as pathetic for good.
This male isn’t one to seek out praise or renown for his acts and accomplishments, he does what he does because he feels it is right, and nothing more nor less is needed to motivate him, aside from the lingering guilt he carries.
Once a wolf who never looked ahead, Xochipilli is now a very careful wolf who tries to walk on eggshells, terrified of what may break. He is patient and tries his best to keep a cooler head than he used to, basing his mind in reality rather than desire... Whether he succeeds is another matter, but he tries.
---- [ N E G A T I V E ] ----
Both emotionally and physically, Xochi is a distant wolf. While he’s pleasant, treats everyone kindly, and will happily interact and converse with them, he’s built barriers he no longer wishes to open, feeling as if that breeze has passed, among believing he doesn’t deserve those connections after everything and fearing that getting close to him will wind up bringing their doom. Xo also shies away from being touched, and will only give in if it’s someone he really cares about, or if someone needs it.
On the extreme end of this wolf’s selflessness is his hero complex. He wishes so dearly to do all he can to aid others and his loved ones that he needs to be in the fray, he feels that needs to save anyone and everyone no matter what; he brought death to Urraca, he took lives in battle, and now he desperately wants to make up for it. A tiny part of this may be to feel better about himself as well as his will to help. One of his most irrational traits, this usually appears when he is emotionally involved somehow, either by connection or empathy. This is one of the few things Xochi gets visibly passionate about.
Xochipilli is a wolf with a bruised heart and as such, it is very easily wounded. Emotional slights, jabs about his regrets, heartbreak via platonic or romantic relationships, all these he tends to be hit heavily by. His mental state is just as fragile and easily brought to turmoil as his emotional one; beyond the fear of his curse, guilt follows him everywhere he goes and he’ll often fall into melancholic phases of depression. However, he always masks a rattled mind and tumultuous heart well with his polite smiles and soft, cheery demeanour, so it may be hard to tell when he’s in such a state unless they either know him well, experience it themselves, or catch him without the mask.
If Xochipilli cares about you, there’s a good chance he’ll be internally fretting at the first sign of harm or danger, often leading him to try and force his protection on them without their say in their own agency. He will also butt in to try and prevent potentially harmful situations and generally can fall into overbearing territory. His self-sacrificial nature plays into this very well, happily allowing himself to take hits for others in battle as well as shouldering blame or punishment in such situations to shield those he cares about.
-----| BIOGRAPHY |-----
[TO READ XOCHI'S HISTORY, CLICK HERE! ]
DA can't fit everything, so I'd appreciate it c:
✧✧✧ C H R O N I C L E --- O F --- T H E --- F L O W E R --- P R I N C E ✧✧✧
A stampede of sixteen paws sliced through the silence of the morning air just as the Spring sun carved the dawn through the sky; four pups, four friends, escaping the confines of their densite and the adults slumbering within to explore the world of dust and forest they inherited by birth. Not quite Juveniles, they expressed their youthful exuberance as all pups do - they tumbled and chased and nipped, sniffed and pawed; parent-free and a little too rowdy, it was only a matter of time before the ochre-coloured male had knocked the night-furred female the slightest bit too hard, sending her careening down the incline they stood upon until she disappeared through the bushes below. She came to stop on the flatness of the flower-filled clearing, unaware of the branch of fate she’d just split. Blinking blearily with a groan, her nose tickled and twitched with a sneeze as the disrupted pollen invaded her nostrils and, unable to hold back, inhaled a mighty gulp of air before sending the gale whipping through the flowers before her.
Her eyes, teared from the effort, came to focus on a small, dark nose.
She blinked.
Rising to her paws, the dark pup caught a full view of white waves splashed with rust, collapsed in such a way that could only be described as “elegant” on a bed of blooms. Oddly, upon the stranger’s ribs perched a green, equally elegant-looking bird.
What a pretty wolf...
“Look what you did, genius!” She heard her smokey friend grumble from above, breaking her out of her reverie.
“Aww come on, you know I didn’t mean to, Zozo!” The voice of the ochre pup responded.
A feminine voice chirped in; “Ani! Friends! Don’t fight now, we need to see if Palli is okay!”
The dark female chuckled, how typical of them.
“I’m fine!” She shouted back, breaking her eyes from the pup, “But you should all get down here and see this!”
-------------------------------
The gawking, discussing, and bantering that ensued had resulted in the two males darting, one very unenthusiastically, back to the densite of Azul to alert the adults, as well as be the first to receive a chewing-out for leaving in the first place.
The pups were pushed back as their leader and others crowded around the pup, talking in tones their ears were not privy to beyond a few whispers of “kill him, he’s an outsider,” and “but look, the Quetzal perches, fearless, upon him, surely that’s a sign from the Gods?”
As the discussion turned into an argument, the group of pups were herded away.
Hours later, it seemed like a decision had been made as a crowd formed around the healer’s den to glimpse and gossip over the stranger that had been brought to them. Their leader and elders willingly deciding to bring a stranger into the pack? It was almost unheard of! Especially then, with tensions on a breaking point between them and their longtime rival, Oraza.
“What if he’s a scout, or a spy?”
“Nonsense; he’s only a pup!”
Such gossip was swiftly chased away from the den mouth by a disgruntled healer.
Dehydrated, starved, and feverish, the pale pup’s awakening was slow. When he did, all questioning was met with answers of “I don’t know;” it seemed the boy did not remember what happened, where he came from, nor even his own name. All he remembered was that he was running, he fell, then he woke up here.
Empty. Homeless. Without identity.
Who was he?
That den was the stranger’s home for the next moon. Verde was a matronly old healer, the best in the pack apparently, but she was also very, very strict. The newcomer, weak and confused as he was, had been restricted to the cave and forbidden to venture towards the mouth until he was strong enough to do so.
And that was driving the pups mad.
He knew that; he often caught their small faces attempting to observe him from every orifice in the den, and who could blame them for being curious? He was their discovery, after all, and besides that he was the first outsider they’d ever seen! Or at least, that’s what he grasped from their hushed excitement. But every time they peeked in through the opening, Verde would shout at the four and chase them, scurrying, back down the hilly path. However, these pups were stubborn; stubborn and cunning with that willful determination only children possess.
One day, towards the end of the moon, the cream male caught the pups again; this time, however, there were only two of them. They made a loud fuss of darting in and snatching some herbs off a stone, and just as predicted Verde gave a great crabby shout: “You little terrors! Give those back!” before charging after the smoke-coloured one and the clay-furred female in a fury.
Then there was quiet.
Quiet for ten seconds before he caught hushed voices and twitched his ear to the side to listen; he was as curious about them as they were him.
“Okay Palli, now go and talk to him!”
“Huh?! Why me?”
“Because you’re a girl, duh! You can charm him!”
“What? Why can’t you charm him?!”
“Mati says I’ll charm all the girls when I grow up, not the boys!”
“And? What makes you think I can charm him? I don’t know how to be charming!”
“I’m telling you! You just gotta… Go in there and be pretty and sweet! You know, like normal!”
A pause.
“Ugh, okay okay! Fine!”
“Yes! You can do it! I believe in you!”
The black-pelted female muttered something he couldn’t hear as she walked, eyes downward, into the den. When her gaze finally crept upwards she was close enough that he was hit with the blue of them, and the stranger felt himself freeze as their eyes connected.
Silence again.
The whitish pup remained still, unsure what to do or say, something the dark pup seemed to quickly read as she wiped the astonishment off her face and gave him a soft, warm smile and an equally warm “Hello! I’m Papalli, but you can call me Palli, if you want.”
It tickled his heart.
“Hello…” he replied quietly, after taking a second to find his voice, “I… Don’t seem to have a name, so you can call me however you wish.”
------------------------------
He didn’t know how long they’d been talking, but by the time Verde returned Papalli’s conversation had pulled a smile out of him; it was small, but as soft as her own. He hadn’t realised how… Lonely that moon had been. He was a stranger to loneliness as much as he was to everything else in this place, but now… That ache was clear in his heart, something Verde must’ve noticed when she began lecturing Papalli for yet again pestering her patient; he must’ve had the most miserable look on his face for her to allow the pup to stay with him while she went to speak to the Emperor.
It was that afternoon he was brought below the Sunstone as Azul’s white-furred leader gazed down at him, granting him a home and a name if he so willed it.
And he did, so very much.
He was given an Azulan name; Xochipilli, “prince of flowers,“ so named after the regal way he was found. The Quetzal was an omen and it wanted him here, the Tlamas had decided, he would play a part in their future and thus they would raise him as a true-blooded Azulan.
Such expectations didn't have time to weigh on his heart, for Papalli happily greeted him with his new name before dragging him off to meet the other pups, who all gave him a hearty welcome and they, too, addressed him with the name.
His name.
For the first time in his short memory of himself, Xochipilli grinned.
(Read full history)
TOY SOLDIERS
(Read full history)
FRACTURE
(Read full history)
-----| Relationships |-----Since his blood history is a massive unknown, he may potentially be up for relatives in the Domain and some plotting regarding that
FAMILY
[Parents]
??? [Mother; unknown], ??? [Father; unknown]
[Siblings]
???
[Other]
???
[Mate]
N/A
[Offspring]
N/A
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Romantic Orientation: Demiromatic
Type: WIP
Sexual History: None
Romantic Experience: Been in love; never actualised
Turn Ons:
◆ Dark-base coats
◆ Kind/Empathetic/Otherwise values the lives/wellbeing of others
◆ Sensible
Turn Offs:
◇ Cruel/Unkind
◇ ???
◇ ???
-----| Other |-----
Likes/Dislikes
Flowers of all kinds... He lives up to his name
The sun
Neotropical and Arid biomes/environments (shrubland, montane grassland, dry forest, desert, savanna)
Being called a girl, especially after they've been corrected or done to purposefully annoy or antagonise >:C
Dark or confined places
Being the cause of pain to others
Cold biomes! BRRR! Tundra and snow are a NO THANKS! He'll bear them with a smile, though.
Trivia
► Xochi believes in the Azulan Gods, the Sun Serpent and the Quetzal in particular, and still prays to and engages in rituals for them. He is starting to incorporate Xerxes into his worship, however.
► He often unintentionally slips into Azulan vocabulary, such as calling friends “ani,” applying the affectionate suffix “nitu” to the names of those he adores, and the respectful “otyl” at the end of the names of admirable wolves - those much older or highly outranking him. This is a habit he might not be able to kick, as he’s still deeply grateful and respectful towards the culture he came from, as well as being his last connection to home.
► Due to past trauma, Xochi hates the dark as well as has a fear of small, confined spaces. Because of this claustrophobia and distaste, he refuses to use a den and sleeps under the stars instead. He is also very unwilling to enter the caves.
► Xochi feels like his scarred right side represents all his failures and the guilt he carries.
► He couldn't care less if he dies; in fact, he thinks it might be the best outcome for him. While he doesn't outright seek his own death, he won't fight to prevent it should fate lead it to him, unless it's for someone else's sake.
Art & Design © Koilada
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OMG I ABSOLUTELY ADOREEE THIS CHARACTER!!! So precious! <3
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