Meet Polo...
Name: Polonium [Polo for short]
Gender: Male
Orientation: Asexual, Biromantic
Age: Mid-thirties by the reckoning of his species. [Biologically speaking, he is 4]
Species: Canine; wolf
Personality:
Polo is an observer, a thinker, and a philosopher, but never a talker. He is most content on the fringe of society, associating with only a few trusted friends instead of many acquaintances. He is resourceful and prefers to take care of himself, the favors of others make him feel burdened, tied down. He would rather go through life owing nothing and giving nothing. Polo just prefers to stay out of others' affairs.
Just as Polo despises accepting favors, he's not one to do other people favors out of the kindness of his heart either. He can, in fact, be somewhat selfish, and avoids making promises because he knows he is liable to break them. He sometimes appear flaky, but his intentions are true, and his friends know that even if he doesn't show up on time or "forgets" to do things that he promised, they can count on him when it really matters. He may not be the most sympathetic shoulder to cry on, but he would never refuse help to a friend in an emergency. In other words, his heart is in the right place even if he screws up the 'little things'.
History/Background:
Polonium was born in the middle of winter to a lone mother wolf in the woods of the Adirondacks. His father was never present and from infancy it was understood that he was a taboo subject of conversation. Polo and his siblings never asked for information about him, and their mother never provided it. Polo also does not know his mother's name. To him she was always simply "Mum". He recollects that his brother and sister, however, were called Pluto and Geiger.
Polonium's childhood memories are few and fuzzy, though the thing he can picture the best is his Mum's face. He was also fond of playing hide-and-seek with Pluto in the woods. His mum taught the three of them to hunt and fish, and basic survival skills. One big, old maple tree comes to mind which has especially good branches for climbing on. These are skills on which Polo relies later in life.
There is a large gap in his recollection about age 1 (so seven-ish in human reckoning), at the end of which he was leading the solitary life he leads today. He is perplexed by this mystery of his past, and secretly yearns to discover the whereabouts of his family, and what caused him to be separated from them. He is insightful enough to realize himself that this is probably why he fears to attach himself emotionally to others - a deep-rooted abandonment complex. Where are they? Did they leave on purpose, were they taken away?
Polo's philosophical nature can't help but explore these questions, though they are painful and the rational part of him would like to dwell instead on the present. He cannot reconcile the two broken halves of his life. He begins to think the first one may have only been a twisted dream. It tortures him, so that he endlessly wanders, and searches. He gets restless if he stays in one town too long. He is forever seeking the life he lost, and dreams about it often. It is a lonely existence, but he considers it his fate and trudges faithfully on.
A Day In the Life…
Polo's only habit is that he is an early riser, and is up and about while the sky is still pink and the sun is creeping up. The rest of his life blows like the wind as he blusters along his perpetual journey. Much of his day is occupied by basic survival: he must obtain food to sustain himself. He can hunt and fish in the forest, but often, pickings are better in a nearby suburb if he decides to take the risk. Often he does not, because he fears the busy roads and human chaos, but sometimes it is worth it to raid the occasional Italian restaurant dumpster. He tries not make friends anywhere he goes, because he knows he can't stay for long. And if he does make a friendly acquaintance, he does not let himself (or them) get too attached. A hard afternoon's work is tiring, and Polo prefers to devote his evenings to quiet reflection. When he is deep in thought, very little can rouse him - if a squirrel ran right under his nose, he probably wouldn't notice. The thoughts he ponders are usually philosophical in nature, though astronomy is another favorite if he is still awake when the sun goes down. But most nights, Polo goes to bed early to wake up at dawn and begin the cycle again the next day.
Name: Polonium [Polo for short]
Gender: Male
Orientation: Asexual, Biromantic
Age: Mid-thirties by the reckoning of his species. [Biologically speaking, he is 4]
Species: Canine; wolf
Personality:
Polo is an observer, a thinker, and a philosopher, but never a talker. He is most content on the fringe of society, associating with only a few trusted friends instead of many acquaintances. He is resourceful and prefers to take care of himself, the favors of others make him feel burdened, tied down. He would rather go through life owing nothing and giving nothing. Polo just prefers to stay out of others' affairs.
Just as Polo despises accepting favors, he's not one to do other people favors out of the kindness of his heart either. He can, in fact, be somewhat selfish, and avoids making promises because he knows he is liable to break them. He sometimes appear flaky, but his intentions are true, and his friends know that even if he doesn't show up on time or "forgets" to do things that he promised, they can count on him when it really matters. He may not be the most sympathetic shoulder to cry on, but he would never refuse help to a friend in an emergency. In other words, his heart is in the right place even if he screws up the 'little things'.
History/Background:
Polonium was born in the middle of winter to a lone mother wolf in the woods of the Adirondacks. His father was never present and from infancy it was understood that he was a taboo subject of conversation. Polo and his siblings never asked for information about him, and their mother never provided it. Polo also does not know his mother's name. To him she was always simply "Mum". He recollects that his brother and sister, however, were called Pluto and Geiger.
Polonium's childhood memories are few and fuzzy, though the thing he can picture the best is his Mum's face. He was also fond of playing hide-and-seek with Pluto in the woods. His mum taught the three of them to hunt and fish, and basic survival skills. One big, old maple tree comes to mind which has especially good branches for climbing on. These are skills on which Polo relies later in life.
There is a large gap in his recollection about age 1 (so seven-ish in human reckoning), at the end of which he was leading the solitary life he leads today. He is perplexed by this mystery of his past, and secretly yearns to discover the whereabouts of his family, and what caused him to be separated from them. He is insightful enough to realize himself that this is probably why he fears to attach himself emotionally to others - a deep-rooted abandonment complex. Where are they? Did they leave on purpose, were they taken away?
Polo's philosophical nature can't help but explore these questions, though they are painful and the rational part of him would like to dwell instead on the present. He cannot reconcile the two broken halves of his life. He begins to think the first one may have only been a twisted dream. It tortures him, so that he endlessly wanders, and searches. He gets restless if he stays in one town too long. He is forever seeking the life he lost, and dreams about it often. It is a lonely existence, but he considers it his fate and trudges faithfully on.
A Day In the Life…
Polo's only habit is that he is an early riser, and is up and about while the sky is still pink and the sun is creeping up. The rest of his life blows like the wind as he blusters along his perpetual journey. Much of his day is occupied by basic survival: he must obtain food to sustain himself. He can hunt and fish in the forest, but often, pickings are better in a nearby suburb if he decides to take the risk. Often he does not, because he fears the busy roads and human chaos, but sometimes it is worth it to raid the occasional Italian restaurant dumpster. He tries not make friends anywhere he goes, because he knows he can't stay for long. And if he does make a friendly acquaintance, he does not let himself (or them) get too attached. A hard afternoon's work is tiring, and Polo prefers to devote his evenings to quiet reflection. When he is deep in thought, very little can rouse him - if a squirrel ran right under his nose, he probably wouldn't notice. The thoughts he ponders are usually philosophical in nature, though astronomy is another favorite if he is still awake when the sun goes down. But most nights, Polo goes to bed early to wake up at dawn and begin the cycle again the next day.
Hamartia [Fatal Flaw]:
Selfishness
Quirks:
Staring off into space as if mesmerized, twitching his left ear when he's confused or nervous, howling only at crescent moons.
Spiritual Beliefs:
While Polo does not identify himself with any organized religion, he has a firm belief that every soul has its own fate or destiny. Nothing you do during the course of your life can change your destiny. He looks to the stars as his deity, thinking of them as guiding him towards wherever he is meant to end up. As much as he wanders and no matter how many new places and faces he encounters, the stars are the one constant in his life, something he can count on infallibly.
Thoughts on love?
Polonium is biromantic, but asexual. He would never admit this to a soul, but though he longs for a deep bond of companionship with a wolf that he could call his lover, he does not feel like it will ever come because of his lack of the sexual aspect of the relationship. And in order to form such a relationship, he would have to settle down and this would drive him stir-crazy. So a loner he remains as he marches on.
Food
Polonium's diet consists mostly of small game that he hunts himself. Squirrels are usually too quick for him, but he can catch his fill of chipmunks, rabbits, possum, or whatever happens to be around. One advantage of travelling is that one sees many climates, and many foods. On a bad day he might resort to eating mice rather than go hungry. When Polo is in an area populated by humans, he is not averse to scrounging for table scraps, and in fact has a certain fondness for Italian food.
Birthdate and Zodiac
Polo celebrates his birthday on October 15th, making him a Scorpio
Scorpio is the sign of Pluto, characterized by curiosity and eagerness to explore, along with a passionate, intense personality. They have great depth of emotion, which can turn controlling at times. They are prone to becoming jealous or fixated on a point that they cannot let go.
But in all honesty, Polonium is skeptical of the Zodiac system. Why should your birth month define you, anyway?
Favorite Pastimes
Polo is fond of stargazing, tree-climbing and playing chess (against a chance acquaintance or even against himself when he's lonely). Tree-climbing is an especial favorite because it's something he used to do with his siblings as a puppy.
Glass Half-Full or Half-Empty?
Polonium is a realist. He tries to see the glass exactly as it is. He feels that optimism is just setting oneself up for disappointment, but also that pessimism is just an excuse to feel sorry for oneself.
What fears do they have?
Polo's deepest fear is that he will be trapped in his winding road forever, and never find a family or a place to call home. To die as he lives now and never accomplish anything with his life seems terrifying. On a more practical note, he's also very nervous around cars and traffic, being touched by a human, and he doesn't care for snakes much either.
Selfishness
Quirks:
Staring off into space as if mesmerized, twitching his left ear when he's confused or nervous, howling only at crescent moons.
Spiritual Beliefs:
While Polo does not identify himself with any organized religion, he has a firm belief that every soul has its own fate or destiny. Nothing you do during the course of your life can change your destiny. He looks to the stars as his deity, thinking of them as guiding him towards wherever he is meant to end up. As much as he wanders and no matter how many new places and faces he encounters, the stars are the one constant in his life, something he can count on infallibly.
Thoughts on love?
Polonium is biromantic, but asexual. He would never admit this to a soul, but though he longs for a deep bond of companionship with a wolf that he could call his lover, he does not feel like it will ever come because of his lack of the sexual aspect of the relationship. And in order to form such a relationship, he would have to settle down and this would drive him stir-crazy. So a loner he remains as he marches on.
Food
Polonium's diet consists mostly of small game that he hunts himself. Squirrels are usually too quick for him, but he can catch his fill of chipmunks, rabbits, possum, or whatever happens to be around. One advantage of travelling is that one sees many climates, and many foods. On a bad day he might resort to eating mice rather than go hungry. When Polo is in an area populated by humans, he is not averse to scrounging for table scraps, and in fact has a certain fondness for Italian food.
Birthdate and Zodiac
Polo celebrates his birthday on October 15th, making him a Scorpio
Scorpio is the sign of Pluto, characterized by curiosity and eagerness to explore, along with a passionate, intense personality. They have great depth of emotion, which can turn controlling at times. They are prone to becoming jealous or fixated on a point that they cannot let go.
But in all honesty, Polonium is skeptical of the Zodiac system. Why should your birth month define you, anyway?
Favorite Pastimes
Polo is fond of stargazing, tree-climbing and playing chess (against a chance acquaintance or even against himself when he's lonely). Tree-climbing is an especial favorite because it's something he used to do with his siblings as a puppy.
Glass Half-Full or Half-Empty?
Polonium is a realist. He tries to see the glass exactly as it is. He feels that optimism is just setting oneself up for disappointment, but also that pessimism is just an excuse to feel sorry for oneself.
What fears do they have?
Polo's deepest fear is that he will be trapped in his winding road forever, and never find a family or a place to call home. To die as he lives now and never accomplish anything with his life seems terrifying. On a more practical note, he's also very nervous around cars and traffic, being touched by a human, and he doesn't care for snakes much either.
Likes
+Music, especially the kind with a catchy tune or deep, thought-provoking lyrics. +Intellectual games like chess + Crisp autumn mornings + Long periods of solitude +Climbing trees +Constellations + Insightful debates or discussions with like-minded people + Coffee |
Dislikes
- Loud, noisy people - Exchanging favors with others - Hiphop or country music - Being asked too many questions - Streets, cars, traffic, etc. - Sweets - Muggy summer afternoons - Small children[ |
A Chance Encounter...
It was Polonium's least favorite kind of day, one where the summer sun scorched in the sky and the very air was heavy and hot. He was thankful for the clouds brought by the evening and the cool relief of the night. He carefully emerged from his hiding place behind a fire escape in a dark alleyway. His stomach growled, protesting. He had spent the day in fetal position, hiding from the noisy city and the abominable heat, and he had not fed. The city had not stopped when the sun went down, if anything, it was more offensive now with it's blaring lights and honking taxis, but he could hide no longer. He needed food.
Polonium stepped down onto the pavement, which still felt warm to his touch, the tar soaked with heat from the day. He shook his fur out, but could not get rid of the feeling of mugginess. With a sigh, Polo flattened his ears and emerged onto the sidewalk of New York, New York.
It was a city unlike any other he had visited. Everyone seemed busy enough that he could slip down the sidewalk unnoticed, skulking with his side scraping against a building. He watched tennis sneakers and big square boots and dainty high-heels march back and forth. Too many people. And more importantly, no food. He moved onward.
Polo had just escaped the chaos of the street into a darker alley of town when he was rewarded by the sounds of tiny claws scuttling in the shadows. Prey! His stomach rumbled again at the thought. He flattened himself to the ground and raised his haunches, taking careful stock of the space around him, the dumpster, the two mothy streetlamps, and the barbed-wire fence, all of which were potential hiding places for his quarry. There were too many conflicting smells in the alley for him to decipher one trail, so he followed his ears instead. It sounded like it was between the dumpster and the fence. Carefully, carefully, now.
There was a moment of complete silence before several things happened all at once. Polonium pounced. Somebody screamed. A scratching, scraping sound rattled Polo's ears. He dug in his heels quickly and skidded to a stop. The screaming subsided. Polo twitched his left ear and took a careful look around.
Standing on the other side of the fence, nearly invisible in the darkness, was a wolf. A wolf! From between her ears sprouted two tiny antlers, velvety like a young buck's, which were hopelessly tangled in the barbed wire. Two damp tear tracks ran down her face, but she looked at Polo with bright eyes.
"And what on the good Earth was that for?" she inquired. She grimaced as she turned to get a better look at him and the wire cut deeper.
"I apologize." said Polonium coldly, still slightly disappointed that he had found a problem instead of a meal. He contemplated his discovery. Could he leave her? Well, technically of course he could. Could he leave her with a clear conscience, though? This looked like a mess he didn't want to be dragged into, and it wasn't even his fault she was stuck. Was she even stuck? Well, he might as well find out. "Are you stuck?"
"Yes." said the wolf with a little laugh. "It's a bit of an interesting yarn, to be honest. I was crawling under this 18-wheeler, you see, and..."
Polo tuned out her prattle. No, he probably couldn't leave her like this, could he? He flattened himself to the ground and inched his way beneath the fence. He felt the sharp barbs along his back but he was careful that none of them stuck or cut deep. Maybe thick fur was a blessing after all, even if it made the summer heat uncomfortable. Once Polonium was on the same side of the fence as the other dog, he turned his attention to freeing her from the wire.
"Then the light turned green, so the motorcycle just came and ran right over the--"
"Yes, interesting. Can you hold still for a minute?"
The other dog obeyed, but looked affronted. "Well, friendly pup you are! You haven't even told me your name!"
"Stop wiggling. And you haven't told me yours either." said Polo with a mouth full of wire.
"It's Minu." she said. And waited. Polo continued untangling the mess of wire.
Minu waited some more, then cleared her throat a little bit. Polo sighed.
"Polonium."
"You don't talk much, Polonium."
Polo pulled the final barb out of Minu's antler with his teeth. The loose wire sprung back and slashed across his face, leaving a tiny welt on his cheek. He let out a hiss and fought the desire to curse.
"There. You can go now."
"Well, gee, thanks!" said Minu with a winning smile. Polo sighed again. "Oh, are you hurt?" Minu's expressive eyes grew sympathetic. "I'm sorry that happened on my account. Is it deep?" She approached as if she intended to lick the wound. Polo flinched away.
"I'm going back to my hunt." he announced. Minu opened her mouth as if she was going to speak. "Alone." Polo clarified.
"Oh, well have fun then. And thank you - hey, will I see you again?"
"Probably not." said Polo sadly. He didn't have time to explain to her that New York would only hold his interest for another few days, then his wanderer's spirit would drive him off to somewhere new.
...But as it happened, Polo dwelled in the Big Apple nearly a week and a half, and that evening by streetlight was not the last he saw of those bright eyes and fuzzy antlers.