Post by Al Capone on Jul 28, 2017 23:25:27 GMT -5
Al Capone
» "Do not mistake my kindness for weakness. I am kind to everyone, but when someone is unkind to me, weak is not what you are going to remember about me." «
age: 2 . Breed: Beauceron . gender: Male . faction: Cruel Moon
Information
Full Name: Al Capone
Nickname//Former Name: 6801
Age: 2
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Illnesses/Health Issues: Chewing tobacco addiction, PTSD, and double dew claws
Weird right?
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Speed: 7/10
Agility: 8/10
Strength: 9/10
Stamina: 6/10
Jump-height: 4/10
Hunting: 4/10
Offensive fighting: 10/10
Defensive fighting: 9/10
Swimming: 5/10
Social-skills: 7/10
Patience: 3/10
Charm: 7/10
Intelligence: 8/10
Herbal-knowledge: 2/10
Teaching: 7/10
Leading: 6/10
___________________________
Likes:
-Soft Conversation -Stars -Hard work -Tobacco -Kind gestures -RESPECT -Confidence -Night -Peace and quiet
Dislikes:
-Rudeness -Snarky behavior -Liars -Betrayal -Authority
-Cages -Large numbers of people -Hunting -Rain -Humidity -Prejudice accusations
Breed: Beauceron
Place of Birth: Mexico
Marital Status: Single
Family: Complicated
Faction: Cruel Moon Pack
OOC Account Name: Genocide.
Eye Color: Baby Blue
Notable Scars: Just regular fighting scars, I supposed cropped ears count?
Tattoos: "6801" on the inside of his upper lip
Piercings: Too manly for that
Character Height: Large German Shepherd I suppose?
Physical Description: Al Capone at first sight can be described as an athlete. Lean would be the word. Lean and mean.. yeah sounds right. He is kind, a smile and a nod with a flick of his sharply cropped ears. Maybe even a thickly accented compliment from his long snout; made for herding. His coat can be described as a merle. Sexy would be better, am I right? Y-no? Oh.
His tail is average if not just below length. But, it curls like a Basenji which might make it seem smaller than it is. His icy eyes, formed through years of careful breeding through the cartel dogs, can slice the air like a hot knife. Mmm.. toast.
Although I'm warning you now, do not disrespect him! If you do something he doesn't agree with he can turn into a gun in a knife fight. I can't say much, but I beg of you, don't be dumb!
He's a 30's mobster, what else do you need to know?
History
Capone was born and raised in Mexico. He was born at the hands of a cartel breeder. Him and his family were made for "herding" at least that's what the sign out front said. But, the farm was owned by a small part of the Mexican drug cartel. Capone would be used for tracking their specific drugs as well as guarding the stock.
From a young age, some might say too young, Capone was carefully exposed to the Cocaine. No, he didn't consume it, who do you think these people were? No no- Capone's nose would be trained on it's smell. It was different than any other sellers and these dogs were raised on that specific scent.
Capone would be dragged from cages when a deal went south or someone didn't count exactly right. Often he would work on small construction roads near Guatemala. The humans would go on about shooting while Capone was unleashed to find any dropped cocaine. Often he would be treading through stomach high mud in the humidity. Capone was, luckily, never caught under fire. Although, many were. Not only humans died on those small roads.
It wasn't all tracking though, one thing Capone excelled at was guarding and attacking. His familia was bred for tracking and guarding. Though he was originally made, thousands of years ago, for herding. Oh well. Capone and his brothers would do all-nighters. Those who would start to fall asleep on the job would be taken by the humans for 5 minutes. 5 minutes exactly. When each one came back they said the humans held them down and injected their veins with something. Legend said it was a liquid of the humans drugs. We didn't know.. But, they worked better and were less tired. Capone was taken once in his life. He refuses to remember what happened.
It wasn't all work down in Mexico though. When the humans did not need us we lived in mesh cages. Some large and some small. Some of the dogs even lived in larger pens; they formed wild packs. There were three packs on the property. Eventually one became too wild for the humans to handle. They shot them all.
Capone and his family still held traditions. They celebrated De Los De Muertos, the day of the dead, the dogs honored all who died in the cages and those who died in the field. They even celebrated their own traditions. For a week each year they celebrated the women of Mexico. All of the girls would be dressed in flowers and cleaned from mud. The men and boys were to provide food for them and celebrate their life. The girls would dance and some sang. Eventually everyone would pass out from exhaustion.
The puppies born here were taken away once healthy enough. They often weren't even weaned, just ripped from their mothers teat. The humans wanted the puppies to be infatuated with them from birth so they worked better. Silly people. A dog is a dog. The pups would come back after 6 months, returned to their mothers and fathers. Almost all of them would be reset back to their roots. They paid no mind. But those who didn't.. the ones who were brain washed. They sat in the corners of the cages. Often pacing the walls. And once a human came to the cages they would leap up and stiffen like a robot. Broken souls..
One night Capone was leashed and driven out into the city. Word around the truck was Capone was being taken out to find a drug brick that had bounced off the shipment truck. The city they were going to was about 100 miles from the American boarder. The drugs were heading to some tunnels where they would be taken across by human mules. The truck stopped and Capone was led from the truck under the dim street lights. They seemed to be tinted with blood. Probably just clay..
He was told to "seek and find" and was pointed out into the blackness. Capone didn't flinch, he lowered his nose and began sniffing. Not long after shots were fired. Capone was made to switch into offense when a gun was fired, unlike most dogs who would be defensive and run. The humans who came with Capone were taking cover behind the truck and even dumpsters. The man behind Capone's long-leash was bleeding on the ground. He wasn't dead but he was dying. The darkness was lit up with small stars- bullets that flew, seeking for flesh to hit. They were led into an ambush.
Capone was lost in the gun fire. He didn't know whose ankles to bite. Lost in confusion he failed to realize that the concrete below him was blowing sparks from bullets colliding with it. He ran. He had to.
The Mexican streets were Capone's home now. He spent months living on his own. The stray dogs in the cities often came from packs but Capone refused. Most were hungry cannibals or mangy assholes. Capone was a one dog pack. Occasionally he would make deals with the stray dogs. Food in exchange for their life. He liked that deal best. But, Capone was fair, often trading pillow stuffing for a bite to eat. Why they wanted that? He didn't know. He was becoming well known on the streets. The dogs started calling him Al Capone. He was formerly known as 6801 for the first year of his life. The humans tattooed 6801 on the inside of his lip. They called him by number and even the dogs in the cages called each other numbers. They had no names. Only an order. 6801 liked the ring of his street name, Al Capone. Some of the dogs who came from America said he was a famous gangster, Al Capone. He didn't believe any of that but what Capone did believe was this was his new name. Al Capone.
Capone was becoming familiar with the local livestock. Chickens were an easy meal and goats were a hefty dinner for weeks. Capone was a regular in the farmers yards, he evened out their herd for them. Making it more fair for the bigger ones, ya know? He was shot at often but he always got away with something, always. But, one night, he didn't. Capone was stalking through a corn field, this property he liked hunting on because of the large corn and wheat fields. Easy cover. He began to learn the farmers car and the only other cars that would visit the property. A beaten up and rusty truck and a small little white.. thing. Tonight there was something new. It was a clean truck, large. He didn't recognize what it was but Capone paid no mind. He was here for chicken and chicken is what he was going to get. The barb wire fence was in sight.. But once it was a noose was around his neck. Now this wasn't a normal thing here. Why would there be a noose. Capone pulled and tried to run, lashing his head around. Two white boots caught his eye, standing just before the struggling dog. He lunged in anger, but the noose tightened. No matter! Capone continued to struggle until his eyes faded and his mouth became dry. Capone fought until he suffocated and blacked out.
When Capone came-to he was back in a wire cage. He was still in the city. There were other dogs beside him in other cages. They didn't look like him, they looked like the stray pack dogs. Mangy little things. Humans were walking by and pointing at us like candy. Capone was being sold by the pound. A grungy old man stepped in front of Capone's cage. He was quiet. Studying Capone, prodding at him with a cigar. As Capone barred his long teeth the man did the same. Handing the money over with a smug grin. Capone was leashed and handed over. Tossed into the back of a rusty pickup truck. His rope leash was tied to the tie bars of the bed. And, off he went. Capone didn't know where or why but he was going.
Eventually the truck stopped and Capone was shaken awake. This wasn't Mexico anymore, no way no how. Lifting his head Capone looked around. Where were they? These humans spoke differently, very very strange.. Their accent reminded him of some of the American strays he make deals with. He was in America... No it couldn't be. Why?
Over the trip Capone had been gnawing at the rope that tied him to the truck. Eventually he chewed through it. He had to escape while the truck was stopped. It didn't matter where he was.
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