Fenrir

FENRIR

the basics

full name • Fenrir
nicknames • the Wolf God
age • Estimated around a few thousand years; appears maybe seventeen or eighteen
birthday • 13th of October
occupation • Alpha of the Warren
affiliation • the Warren
gender • he/his/him
sexuality • Asexual

the appearance

face claim • Luke Caravaggio (Locke & Key)
height and weight • 6'4" ; 7'0" (at the shoulder) / 302 lbs; 527 lbs
identifying features • N/A
overall appearance •

Fenrir inherited his father's ability to change shape. But instead of being able to take many forms, he only has two. That of his original shape, a black wolf of monstrous size, and that of a shape he has learned, strongly resembling the characteristics of an Asgardian.

His wolfen shape is the one he mostly prefers, despite all things. In this form, standing, he measures up to seven feet tall at the shoulder, weighing in at well over five hundred pounds. His frame is built as beautifully as a machine; muscle and sinew combine to create an embodiment of power and grace, undulating underneath fur, soft in texture like velvet and black as onyx, untainted by any markings of any kind. His lips hide ivory teeth, sharp and yet rarely unsheathed except when facing danger or prey; his size often serving to be intimidating enough for his needs. Fenrir's eyes are like two amber stones; bright when happy or mischievous, dull when sad or bored, and often reflective of his thoughts or emotions when it comes to most things.

His second shape matches the build of his forebears; walking on two legs, with a strong body, and light skin. Though unlike most of his fellow Asgardian family members, he's not as heavily built, instead leaning more toward the physique of his father. He's more lithe than he is strong. His fair skin is flawless, porcelain and refined. His features are angular, defined; a pointed chin, defined nose and strong, expressive eyebrows. His raven hair is originally long, flowing down around his shoulders, though for Midgard he has glamoured it to appear short and choppy. There are other glamours he has added in-- including an earring and a lip ring, through a short judgment he has come to the conclusion that this gives a rugged and aggressive appearance worthy of warding off unwanted attention. Fenrir's gaze is the same amber color that he possesses in his wolf form, still expressive, despite what he would prefer if he was aware.

As for clothing, unlike his preferred clothes of choice in Asgard, on Midgard he wears mostly dark outfits, preferably black if he can get it, not unlike the pitch color of his fur of all varieties.

the personality

overall personality •

In many aspects, Fenrir thinks still very much like a wolf would. He strives to avoid hurt, both physical and emotional, viewing injury in a hunt or a battle as physical hurt and the collective fear pointed toward him as emotional hurt. He’s very brutish, seeing physical and direct confrontations as a better way to deal with things than finding a different way around the unpleasant situation, however, Fenrir does not reflect the expectations that have been placed on him. While those that had chained him would have thought him to be a monster, he is sure he isn't one. While thousands of years of being chained to a rock has left him with a short temper, he's beginning to master turning and walking away. Though he's thousands of years old, that extensive time being on his own has left his social skills highly underdeveloped. While he probably would have turned into a pack member, he's become quite the lone wolf, despite what he would have preferred. He longs for social interactions, but has no idea how to conduct them.

Fenrir, as a natural predator, has balanced a level of intelligence with his strength. When compared to the average Midgardian, he is no genius, but when it comes to observing and learning unspoken laws and rules, he has surprising skill. He would rather study and watch from the edges until he thinks he's learned enough, though he's never fully comfortable when surrounded by large amounts of people. While his temper would make many believe him to be evil, it's a short temper that burns out quickly. He is a gentle giant; few of words, preferring to speak more through actions if actions are applicable.

Fenrir desires nothing more than to be accepted among his peers. He's often self-conscious about how he presents himself to others, and works hard to make those see him for who he truly is, rather than what he would appear to be. He believes he has no connections to his forebears, Jotun or trickster god alike, but is his own being, and can be so much more than what Odin and his council of peers expects him to be. Fenrir wants to be a part of his own "pack", to figure out how to build one where he can be comfortable with fitting in. He just . . . needs to figure out how to trust again . . . 

the abilities

Special abilities •

Fenrir was put into a difficult position from the very moment of his birth. The product of Loki Laufeyson and a Jotun woman known as Angrboða, he was branded for trouble by the line of his forebears, rather than his own actions. A wolf, though only a pup, with potential for great loyalty, or fiendish deciet. When Odin came to know of his existence, he was extracted from his home and brought to Asgard, to be evaluated and kept on a close watch, and put into the care of an Asgardian warrior known as Tyr.



Fenrir didn't know what to think of these other two-legged beings. They were unlike his father and mother; though not unlike at all. They were more powerful than he, of greater size at the time, and being estranged and of simple mind, he could only describe them as gods. Bonds were made, in strange ways; he came to understand speech, and to understand certain laws of these gods, though no greater bond was forged between him and that of the god known as Tyr.



His development put Odin and his peers on edge. The pup's growth was monstrous--- he quickly and greatly exceeded the size and strength of any canine that was in possession of any other god; his shoulder first at Tyr's calf, then at his waist, then at his shoulder; though it was not his size alone that grew quickly, but also his intelligence. There was no other beast that could match his wit, though his pride fell with his strength. To him it became a game to best the strength of others, though the game was not viewed from the same perspective of his two-legged counterparts, and even the gods that he had come to know were awed; though with that awe, there came fear.



When Fenrir stood shoulder to eye-level of Tyr, word spread throughout Asgard. A soothsayer had proclaimed that it would be Fenrir, come ragnarok, would consume Odin, and much to the All Father's chagrin, it was agreed that he would be bound to prevent the possible event from ever occurring in the first place. But their first tries were unsuccessful; Fenrir was elusive and couldn't be caught or bound by any rope.



Instead, three fetters were fashioned--- and Fenrir was asked to test his strength against them. The first, he broke, and broke easily. So the gods fashioned one twice as strong, and promised him greater fame should he break this one. Blinded by pride, Fenrir agreed, and broke the second, though this time with greater difficulty. So a third was made, though this one was different. Not of iron, but magical; thin and smooth like a strand of silken ribbon. The wolf was made wary, there had to be some kind of trickery to it, but the gods assured him he would be able to break free. Still untrusting, Fenrir proposed that one of the Asgardians put a hand into his mouth to assure that he would be able to break free, and should he not, they would let him go, for they'd know he was nothing to fear.



The others knew this was treachery, and so Tyr was the only one with the bravery enough to risk his hand, and when Fenrir couldn't break through this new bond, and they didn't set him free, he bit off Tyr's hand and was thrown into a rage.



Time passed. His rage settled, and he brooded in silence, passing out of the minds of all other Asgardians. It was late in his years that he made a shocking discovery--- by accident, and after long years of wishing he could be free as one of them, he had shifted from his four-legged shape, into a two-leg. His bonds fell from his body, and he was free. Now they were not the only gods; he was a god, too. At first, rage coiled in his chest again; he wanted to get back at all those that had wronged him. But such a move would brand him further, and he would be following in the footsteps of his father, moves which were both undesirable. Instead, he snuck into the city and hid, learning, and learning of Midgard and how to get there . .


Weaknesses •

SHAPE-SHIFTER


The onyx wolf has the power to change shape. However, unlike his sire, he is limited to only two forms: his original: that of a monstrous wolf; and a second: that of an Asgardian. He can make small changes to his Asgardian form, for instance, his glamours that makes his hair appear shorter and his ear and lip to be pierced, though complex ones such as appearing as a different gender are out of his reach.


THE POWER OF A GOD



Fenrir not only inherited the ability to change shape from his father, but he was also gifted with his physique. He has great strength, in either of his forms able to lift, at most (and with great effort), ninety tons, and can run at speeds of one hundred and fifty miles per hour. His reflexes are also heightened, allowing him a larger time frame to dodge, however, not enough to stop him from dodging something as wrathfully swift as a bullet. His skin, muscle, and bone tissues have several times the density of the same tissues in the body of a human being, contributing to his substantial weight in both of his forms, even considering his greater size. This same physiology gifts him with an invulnerability from Midgardian illnesses, most toxins and poisons except at concentrated doses, and thanks to the contribution of Jotun blood is even highly resistant to temperatures well exceeding subzero. With these attributes he is also gifted with a light healing factor, which gives him longevity, allowing his lifespan to last centuries at a time, and an ability to heal from wounds faster; a broken bone that would have taken a human months to heal mended in a week.



EYES, EARS, AND NOSE OF A WOLF


Heightened senses: His senses are as strong as a wolf’s, able to hear the slightest sound, detect the most subtle scent, and see proficiently in the dark.



LIMITED TELEPATHY


Fenrir has a very selective form of telepathy. With permission, in his original shape, he can share thoughts, memories, and images with another being. They can only see what he shares, and vice versa, and he can't invade another's mind. It's very detached in its own way, and not as intimate as the standard that has been set by greater users, very much like speech, both can hide things if they have enough practice and skill


Skills •

Brilliant Hunter

Intermediately skilled at hand-to-hand combat

the history

hometown • Asgard

overall history •

Fenrir was put into a difficult position from the very moment of his birth. The product of Loki Laufeyson and a Jotun woman known as Angrboða, he was branded for trouble by the line of his forebears, rather than his own actions. A wolf, though only a pup, with potential for great loyalty, or fiendish deciet. When Odin came to know of his existence, he was extracted from his home and brought to Asgard, to be evaluated and kept on a close watch, and put into the care of an Asgardian warrior known as Tyr.



Fenrir didn't know what to think of these other two-legged beings. They were unlike his father and mother; though not unlike at all. They were more powerful than he, of greater size at the time, and being estranged and of simple mind, he could only describe them as gods. Bonds were made, in strange ways; he came to understand speech, and to understand certain laws of these gods, though no greater bond was forged between him and that of the god known as Tyr.



His development put Odin and his peers on edge. The pup's growth was monstrous--- he quickly and greatly exceeded the size and strength of any canine that was in possession of any other god; his shoulder first at Tyr's calf, then at his waist, then at his shoulder; though it was not his size alone that grew quickly, but also his intelligence. There was no other beast that could match his wit, though his pride fell with his strength. To him it became a game to best the strength of others, though the game was not viewed from the same perspective of his two-legged counterparts, and even the gods that he had come to know were awed; though with that awe, there came fear.



When Fenrir stood shoulder to eye-level of Tyr, word spread throughout Asgard. A soothsayer had proclaimed that it would be Fenrir, come ragnarok, would consume Odin, and much to the All Father's chagrin, it was agreed that he would be bound to prevent the possible event from ever occurring in the first place. But their first tries were unsuccessful; Fenrir was elusive and couldn't be caught or bound by any rope.



Instead, three fetters were fashioned--- and Fenrir was asked to test his strength against them. The first, he broke, and broke easily. So the gods fashioned one twice as strong, and promised him greater fame should he break this one. Blinded by pride, Fenrir agreed, and broke the second, though this time with greater difficulty. So a third was made, though this one was different. Not of iron, but magical; thin and smooth like a strand of silken ribbon. The wolf was made wary, there had to be some kind of trickery to it, but the gods assured him he would be able to break free. Still untrusting, Fenrir proposed that one of the Asgardians put a hand into his mouth to assure that he would be able to break free, and should he not, they would let him go, for they'd know he was nothing to fear.



The others knew this was treachery, and so Tyr was the only one with the bravery enough to risk his hand, and when Fenrir couldn't break through this new bond, and they didn't set him free, he bit off Tyr's hand and was thrown into a rage.



Time passed. His rage settled, and he brooded in silence, passing out of the minds of all other Asgardians. It was late in his years that he made a shocking discovery--- by accident, and after long years of wishing he could be free as one of them, he had shifted from his four-legged shape, into a two-leg. His bonds fell from his body, and he was free. Now they were not the only gods; he was a god, too. At first, rage coiled in his chest again; he wanted to get back at all those that had wronged him. But such a move would brand him further, and he would be following in the footsteps of his father, moves which were both undesirable. Instead, he snuck into the city and hid, learning, and learning of Midgard and how to get there . .

the role player

alias • Scribs
age • 19
pronouns • they/them/their