Name: Darcy
Nicknames: D or Dar
Gender: Stag
Age: Mid 30's
Pictogram:
Here
Loves: Forever, a peahen.
Official Color: #C76114
Personality:
Darcy is a pretty complex guy and is extremely hard to describe in a short amount of space, but I shall try!
There are many layers to his personality, and no one layer truly stands out against the rest yet as he continues his journey to find his true self within a sea of emotion. I suppose it would be a good idea to start with Darcy’s positives. One thing that has always stayed steady about the stag however is his friendly, self-sacrificing nature. His level of outgoingness changes with his mood, but he is always willing to offer a smile and kind words to any who are friendly in return. For his friends, he’s willing to offer anything. In a constant search for approval and belonging he takes his relationships quite seriously and tries not to hold any one person above another.
He is creative and loves to work with words, often speaking poetically, philosophical about everything in life. Open and willing to try out new ideas and activities, when in a good mood he can be a fun guy to be around. His hobbies, likes and interests are broad, and unlike some it’s hard to pin point just exactly what sort of individual he is through them alone.
Honest but considerate, he is often stuck between the truth and what might not want to be heard. It is however well known that he is a bad liar and easy to read once his emotions get the better of him. Being plagued by a somewhat guilty conscience he often takes on more responsibility for a wrong done then he needs to or is at fault for, but he is always sincere and looking out for the best interests of others in whatever he does.
What may seem simply humble to some, however, can translate into a darker side in Darcy. Haunted by past and present events and mistakes, Darcy often struggles to move on from things that have caused him stress, or worse, especially if it has caused others the same illness. His mood will sour at any trigger of a bad experience, or at random if his mind is not properly distracted, and may often seem confusing and hard to understand to those around him. These fits of depression are extremely varied in their levels of intensity, the smallest being a simple standoffish sadness that keeps him distant and quiet for a short period of time, to the worst, in which his mind is so overtaken he seizes to function as himself and ‘loses his mind’, in a sense, temporarily switching off from the world around him.
And lastly, apart from sadness…anger. Darcy can at times, well…snap. One can only be gracious for so long, after all. He has always had a wild side as a younger stag and an affinity for starting fights, and while most of that former rowdiness has dulled, he is no less eager to lower his antlers when he’s anything from annoyed to protective to outraged. Especially when in a bad mood, his patience can be worn quite thin and he is easily provoked, while on another day he might tolerate the irritation better. Despite his looks, which certainly don’t mirror that of your usual tough guy image, he knows how to fight and wont back down from a reasonable challenge.
Appearance:
The buck has taken a strong liking to the orange butterfly pelt and the spiky brown antlers that curve down towards his back. His mask of choice is the Real Deer mask, not just because it’s a fine look but he very much enjoys the sound it makes. Rarely ever will he change appearance finding himself quite handsome as he is, thank you. When he's feeling silly or depressed though he might change things up for a little while. When he's sad he either turns into a mini deer (small and insignificant) or wears one of the real deer pelts (ordinary, not flashy).
Darcy is a bit on the short side for a buck, compact and sturdy in body yet lithe in features. His legs are thinly built but they are quite muscular and agile. His eyes are an amber color, only slightly lighter than the orange of his pelt. There are tusfts of hair at the ends of his longer-than-average ears like a lynx, as well as a bit of extra fuzz, streaked with premature graying, growing from his forehead that look curiously like bangs as it hangs over his mask. Scars dot his frame, some destryong hair pigment and causing new growth to come in white, and on others hair refuses to grow at all. He doesn't like to be 'naked' because of this, as the default pelt tends to show them better. His face too bears the many reminders of past harm, self inflicted and resulting from numerous battles. He's quite ashamed of them, and therefor will not allow himself to be caught without a mask that properly conceals them. If these long healed injuries can be overlooked, he has a pleasant face, his features very soft and subtle, all but his eyes which are deeply set, and while kindly, have a constant look of weariness in them. A short bit of stubble grows along his chin and jawline, helping him to have a more masculine appearance his otherwise softness may not allow...
Human Appearance: H e r e
Likes:
-Darcy’s favorite past time is making himself dizzy. When he finds he likes a certain someone or is really just feeling quite bored and idle, he’ll start circling. Around trees, rocks, the Twin Gods, mushroom circles or other deer, it doesn’t much matter to him, but round and round he’ll go. He's also start circling in place when he's nervous or anxious.
-Being transformed into small animals. He’ll stay in this form for hours, finding the reaction of others highly amusing, and appreciates the new perspective of the world.
- Helping others with their masks and pelts. Once given the honor of being asked, Darcy is dedicated till the correct combination is found.
-Playfighting. Unlike a lot of other deer who might find this behavior rude, he gets a thrill out of challenging others, though it's rarely ever serious. When another deer actually engages him, it makes his day ^^
-Sitting near the pond under the willows, letting the long drooping branches caress him.
- Dancing! He loves putting together new steps and combinations in his dance.
-Fawns. Fawns are his weakness, and he'll do his best to befriend them all and try to include them in his activities.
Dislikes:
-He doesn’t really care for ‘spell games’ too much, as he likes his appearance as it is and always ends up changing it back. He’ll play along for a while but if a spell caster is especially persistent he can get a bit agitated. He ESPECIALLY hates being ‘sneak attacked’ by the magical white pelts given by the Twin Gods. Unless he’s with good company, he’ll become quite aggressive or intimidated by this and will flee the area.
-He especially hates Mask spells, as he's very sensitive about his appearance and likes to keep his face concealed. If someone casts a spell removing his mask or if he loses it on accident he'll often flee the scene and present company till he can get it back.
-He doesn’t really like overly large, rambunctious crowds. He’d much rather break from a large group and go looking for a lonely deer to hang out with then remain in the chaos of it all.
-Any of the halloween sets. Not only does he find the skull appearance unsettling but he finds that the owners of these sets are often proud and aloof creatures. Still, he gives all the benefit of the doubt.
-Deer who don't know the meaning of PERSONAL SPACE. Darcy is very sensitive about his space, and while he'll tolerate close contact for a little while he might become agressive if a deer he isn't close to does not let him have it.
-When deer sit on other deer, usually in the case of gaining pelt spells from a sleeping deer. He finds this to be very rude and will often try and get the offending creature to move.
-The Drinkplaats. Getting naked = not fun at all. If friends enter he'll wait at the edge of the mushroom circle anxiously. If he really wants to take part in the fun he'll wait till no one is looking, dash in and transform himself. Only on rare occasions does he linger in deer form.
Location?: While he isn't particularly picky about where he is, he is fond of the pond, as well as his daughter's grave. He can also be found basking in sunspots.
What's Darcy trying to say in the forest?
Understanding Darcy
Darcy Art By Me:
X X XX
THANKS GUYS ^^ Hope I haven't forgotten anyone...
I wont USUALLY ask for fanart...maybe on occasion. To me though the best fan art is the one given in surprise! -hinthint- XD
He continued to stare at her
As the doe explained her emotions Herla would be able to see his face scrunch as the gears in his aching head struggled to turn.
'Ill? Yes...but why? No, you aren't ill, just stupid. Incredibly stupid!...What? No, I'm not-...hey...I don't feel well at all. Yeah but that's what you get!...Oh...Huh? No I had to... Go? Wait...why is she sorry? No...no don't-'
“Don't go,” the stag pleaded suddenly, blinking back the torrent of nonsensical thoughts. Focusing up on her again he saw a new batch of tears welling up in her eyes and his expression sunk.
“Don't...don't cry. I'll be okay. I'm sorry you...have to see this...You can go if you want to.”
No, he didn't understand, but he must be to blame. Kumiko's tears...now Herla's. Rowan, in his dream...had she been crying too? He didn't doubt it. Darcy had a particularly impressive track record for making does cry. Nothing ever really changed... No, he couldn't make Herla stay, and part of him didn't want her there to see the mess he'd made of himself...but the selfish part wanted to keep her close. He didn't...want to be alone.
“Don't go.” The words made
The words made the little doe look up into the stag’s face, her heartbreaking at the sight.
“I'll be okay.”
But he didn’t look okay, he looked shaky. Pale. No she couldn’t leave him like this. No matter how much it was hurting her to be near him, she had to stay and look after him.
“I don’t want to leave.” she said, and unable to stop herself, stepped forward to press her cheek to his, closing her eyes and resting there a few seconds. “Please rest, Darcy. I won’t leave you. I’ll stay with you…” and here she hesitated another second as she inhaled his scent and swallowed “…until you are better.” she said with a whisper. She curled up next to him then, keeping her face averted, and laying her neck over his back.
[This one turned out better I
For a minute, he thought she would go. The look she was giving him...she didn't seem happy, but that was the extent of what he could figure. Unable to sort out logic he immediately relied on his gut feelings, and they told him she wouldn't stay. She was disgusted with him...why wouldn't she be? After how he'd...acted. 'That's right'. Something had... happened between them, hadn't it? Agh! Trying to think made another wave of nauseous pain ripple through his cranium.
“I don't want to leave.”
His tense muscles relaxed at her words. The stag blinked up at her as she once again moved towards him, extending her neck to gently caress his bare cheek. It felt strange, her smooth fur tickling the sensitive flesh there. Strange, but good. His eye-lids fluttered, then closed in response as a sigh breathed from his nostrils. He didn't catch the detached way she spoke; couldn't comprehend the 'conditions' she set for her companionship. Until he was better? Surely it was an innocent statement.
“Thank you,” he murmured, a small smile settling on his lips as the little black doe once again nestled in at his side. Again he trembled, feeling the difference in temperature between them now that she was near. The monarch stag couldn't help but curl around her, his small figure perfectly cradled in his own.
But he was not content. His body wouldn't let him simply lay and rest. Sourceless pains and discomforts rolled through him in waves of sickness and flashes of heat. Sweat dripped down his forehead and he shut his eyes tightly one minute, then completely relaxed them the next. His lips were cracked and his mouth was uncomfortably dry.
“Mm...I'm...really thirsty...” he finally breathed, opening his eyes again to stare off into the forest. He couldn't see very far, of course, the nearest bushels of poppies and grass blocking his view. He shifted against her a little.
“Where...are we? How far...is the pond from here?”
He thanked her and it made
He was not restful. He twitched and let out soft moans of discomfort. “Darcy.” she murmured, tears threatening again. Wracked with concern, she touched her nose to his forehead and felt how hot it still was. She pushed his sweat drenched hair from his forehead trying to soothe him. When he awoke, asking for water, her heart wrenched at how miserable he sounded. “We’re at the ruins Darcy. Can you…can you make it to the pond?” she asked. She stood up, nosing him gently, his fever was running rampant, if they could get to the pond, it would help him. “I’ll help you there. You can lean on me. We can do it.” she tried to encourage. It was a distance. He might not be able to make it in his condition. She would get him some water somehow. The willow trees where there too. She knew little of healing but some little herb knowledge. She knew the bark of the willow tree was good for fevers. “If you can’t make it, I can bring you something back, something that will help.” she said.
[WELL I was going to post
The ruins... the ruins? The stag's brows flexed inward as he continued to stare off into the weeds. Where...where was that? It didn't matter. Now that he'd thought about water, he craved it even more. He felt her shift against him and stand and he shivered as the warmth of her vanished again.
“Y-yeah...I can make it,” he answered quietly, despite having no idea if it was true. The thought of getting to his feet was daunting, but...it had to be done. Darcy tensed his quivering muscles and shifted away from her as she nosed him in encouragement. Counting to three in his head, he threw his weight to one side with a grunt of effort, rolling onto his chest and belly. It might have been wiser to stop there and catch his breath, but he didn't. Using the momentum he had already built up he threw his forelegs in front of him and hoisted himself up off the ground in one fluid motion.
Well, fluid at least up until that point.
Darcy's head swam from the maneuver and sent the world spinning. The ground beneath him tilted violently, and he leaned forward and clung to the earth with his hooves as though he might slide right off otherwise. The male's eyes grew wide with fear, the sensation so real...but no. It was just an illusion. His scarred eyelids smashed together as he demanded his legs go rigid. They obeyed, splayed and awkward and quivering beneath him... he looked like a newborn fawn learning to stand for the first time. Then the nausea hit him. His stomach churned in warning. Forcing his legs into action he stumbled away from Herla, crashing through the poppies till his shoulder blindly smashed against a tree, lurching him forward to vomit. His stomach emptied...or at least he hoped it did. A shuddering feeling of relief washed over him once he was finished. The stag leaned against the tree for support as he caught his breath before he sheepishly turned to face the no doubt disgusted doe.
“Heh...sorry about... that.”
Darcy pinned his ears against his lowered-hanging head as he slowly made his way back over to her. He glanced around him wearily, trying to get his bearings. Now that he could see into the distance he realized the pond was nowhere in sight. Just trees...and the large, stony pillars looming nearby. Darcy turned his head to gaze up at them, shuddering a he let his eyes linger on the crumbling graves. He began to doubt that he really would make it.
"Well...here goes nothing."
Turning back, he forced a small smile for Herla before slowly turning his body in the direction his instincts told him to go to head towards the pond.
((We can certainly move to
Herla stepped back as the stag lurched to his feet, looking unsteady and ready to fall back down. She watched as he blanched, the color draining from his face right before her eyes. She opened her mouth to tell him perhaps he should lay back down, but before she could, he was rushing blindly forward, crashing haphazardly into a nearby tree where he lost his stomach. He gave her a sheepish look, she wanted to go forward to help him, but she was afraid to hurt his dignity so she said nothing and looked at him askance, letting him regain his composure unobserved. As he walked unsteadily back to her she wondered what she could do to further help him. She reevaluated her initial assessment that he had an infection. He didn’t have any wounds that she could see. It was looking more like poisoning to her now, vomiting may have been the best thing for him.
“A little better now? I think you may have eaten a bad plant, Darcy,” she remarked harmlessly, her face showing only concern. She could see him struggling to keep his head up, and swaying unsteadily as he tried to move of in the direction of the pond. She moved to walk beside him, offering herself for support. She was small, but he could lean on her if he needed too. “Not too fast…and we can stop for rests.” she said, “It is a long way.” she added, worry in her voice.
“I wasn't going to say
It felt like some miracle of willpower when he finally stumbled up to the shore. Herla's patience with him had been nothing short of admirable. He shuffled away from her now, wading into the shallows...and then collapsing there. His legs were cushioned by the muck and felt instant relief, but the cool water that splashed up on him made him shudder violently.
“Oh f-f-f***ing hell, that's cold,” he stammered, tensing his muscles and muttering a string of several more curses under his breath. Feeling eyes on him, he glanced over to see a fawn standing nearby at the water's edge, gawking at him. Darcy stared blankly back a moment...then narrowed his eyes, lifted his lip and bared his teeth in a snarl. The jagged scars tearing down his face certainly helped with the over-all menacing effect. Gasping, the youngster stumbled back from the water, laid back his ears and took off. The stag eyed his retreating form before he turned back to Herla, his scowl replaced by a wide, satisfied grin.
“Man...I've missed doing that,” he snickered, before turning to lower his head to the frigid water that pooled around him and greedily quench his thirst.
The walk had been a difficult
She quirked an eye brow when Darcy actually snarled at a nearby fawn and frowned as the little thing fled. She watched it go, then turned back to the monarch pelted stag. “Grumpy, grumpy,” she said walking forward now into the pond, the mud sucking at her little hooves with every step. When she reached where he lay, she put her cheek to his forehead. It still felt too warm. “You still have a fever, the cool will do you good. Though I know it doesn’t feel that way now,” she said sympathetically. When he began to drink deeply she warned him, “Be careful. Pace yourself. Or it will all be back up again,” she said softly. Looking to shore, she eyed a willow tree. The bark would help. She looked back down at the stag, he was still quite wretched looking but she didn’t think he was going to pass out and drown, so she turned and headed to the shore and one of the willow trees that arched its dangling branches over the pond’s waters. Looking back, she made sure Darcy was still upright, and hadn’t face planted in the water. Reassured that he was alright, she turned back to her task. Pawing with her small but sharp hooves at the trunk she freed a bit of bark. Working it loose the rest of the way with her teeth, she was able to pull a nice sized chunk off. This she brought back to the beleaguered stag. “Chew on this,” she ordered, speaking around the bark in her mouth, “It will help with the fever…and the headache.” she added with a slight chuckle. “Just chew though…don’t swallow.” she warned.
The stag grudgingly heeded
The image was distorted by a sudden onslaught of waves and ripples as nearby splashing reached his ears. When the stag turned to face the doe, his expression wary. How...long had he been without his mask?
“Chew on this.”
Her words were garbled and his expression faltered in confusion, till he saw the chunk of bark clenched his her jaws. It would...help? The male eyed her suspiciously a moment, then gingerly reached out and grabbed the protruding morsel in his teeth. His chapped lips guided the bark into his mouth and he made a face as the earthy, bitter taste of it settled on his tongue. He fought the urge to spit it out, trying to mind what she'd said. Clenching the muscles in his irritable stomach in determination, he rolled the nasty bit of tree flesh around in his mouth.
“Swallow? I don't think there's any risk of that happening,” Darcy garbled before grinding his teeth into the bark obediently.
“How long do I have to do this?” His voice drawled in the fashion of a whine as his lips protruded in an over-dramatic pout.
When the little black doe had
She wanted to sit next to him but opted to give him some space instead. He seemed to be feeling a little better, she couldn’t help being self conscious now after the wary look he’d given her. Maybe he didn’t want her around him now that he was getting his wits about him. She didn’t want to crowd him or overstay her welcome. Or hurt his dignity. Some stags got temperamental having anybody around when they weren’t well. She moved into the deeper water and took a drink herself, keeping her face averted and only looking at him from beneath the veil of her lashes.
Darcy grunted his displeasure
Suddenly, he remembered.
The giant winged beast, hovering over her and Ciel, glowering at him as he called them back. Those eyes...there was nothing to be trusted in those eyes! He had seen those eyes before...in his dream. They laughed at him. Mocked him! He would never win. He could never truly protect the ones he loved. Not from giant predators. 'Not from myself...'.
The flush color of his feverish cheeks drained away, his body growing rigid as he watched her bend to take a drink. Something pulsed inside his head...something dark. Something angry.
'I wonder how well she can swim... Deserter.'
'These aren't mine...these aren't my thoughts.'
'How long...can she hold her breath?'
'Not mine, not mine, not mine, not mi-'
'Push.'
He slammed his eyelids shut and snarled through the mashed bark between his teeth. His molars clenched down and crushed the last surviving solid piece before he threw his head to one side and spit it into the reeds. Craning down, he filled his mouth with water and swallowed before drawing his limbs beneath him and swaying uneasily to his feet. The stag gave his dripping body a weak, ineffective shake before stumbling for the shore.
Wading deeper out into the
His eyes broke contact and he hastily rose from the waters he had been laying in, turning away from her and walking back to the shore. She watched with mild consternation at how shaky he looked and took a step forward. She went to speak, opening her mouth but no words would come. The look he had given her…he didn’t want any words from her. The doe squeezed her eyes shut against the impending tears, wishing to simply disappear at that moment, she hid her face in her feathers and turned away from him. Slipping away into the deeper water she swam smoothly towards the opposite shore. She couldn’t look back at him.
In his fearful stupor, Darcy
The thread-line tendrils of the willow caressed him as he ducked his head and wearily passed beneath them. The grass glowed warm and inviting in a clear spot beyond the shade and he made for it without looking back. He was being rude, leaving her there...but it was better rude than any other option creeping through his head. Yet the darker thoughts had quieted as his headache once more pulsed between his eyes. It seemed his movements had stirred the muck and the clarity of his thoughts were becoming fogged again. He drug himself into the sunlight and collapsed there unceremoniously. The grass was short and the ground wasn't particularly soft but a wave of welcoming warmth passed over him nonetheless. A deep sigh was pushed from his lungs as he lay there awkwardly a moment, then shifting his wight he rolled himself onto his side and nestled his bare face into the grass.
Swimming across the pond,
Reaching the far shore, the little black doe pulled herself out of the water with a heaviness that had nothing to do with the strain of the swim. She felt drained. Empty. Sorrow settling heavily upon her. She stood there dripping, head hanging low, feathers plastered down, not even bothering to give a shake to rid herself of the excess water. She didn’t care. Turning back, she saw the stag had laid down on the opposite shore near a willow tree. A moments concern for his health flickered through her mind, and her brow furrowed and rose in worry. But he didn’t want her near him. Her ears fell back.
Turning back around, she looked up the steep rise on this side of the shore. Collecting her limbs beneath her for the steep climb, she bound up it in a few graceful leaps. Still dripping, she started walking without a thought to direction. She found herself at the old oak, and settled into a dark nook in the craggy bark. Hiding her face in her side she let herself cry where nobody was around to hear or see.
Kitchi was kicking up his
With a deep breath Kitchi trotted up to him. "Hello there sir stag. My name is Kitchi of the Forest, and the one whom watches over me is Mauv. I wanted to tell you that I truely admire your apperence." He flashed a bit of a smile. "One day, I hope to spar with you. Right now I think I am still small for a deer of your size, but one day, I hope that you will accept my challenge!" He exclaimed, trying to look regal and still failing at it horribly with his awkward fawn body.
Track~
Hey there :3 Thanks for the
Thanks for the track, but this is his old bio. If you want to track the new (and incomplete XD) one, you can find it Here :3
I'm sorry to hear he got so beat up ._.
That was an ooc "no"
Erm, no...it was IC ^^' Darcy
Okay, awesome XD I thought
Ah...yeah if D were in a
Ah, and in the future, leave me a note on his new bio here. I really need to delete this one or something lol.