FOETIDA. ― Worm

[vbscript]

CW: gore, death, insects, unsanitary. This is a blanket warning to people who might wanna rp with him, because Dirt is a horrible man.

art by instantcoyote on dA

design by pinkpiecat on dA

art by mykalablue on dA

Name: Dirt. Worm.
Aliases: Disgusting creature.
Age: Somewhere between 3-5. Who's counting.
Gender: Male.
Orientation: Bisexual.

Species: Mackenzie Valley Wolf.
Size: Large.

If his sheer size isn't intimidating, perhaps the fact that his pelt is crawling with cockroaches and centipedes is. Worms between his teeth, maggots nestling beneath his fur, he is crawling with insects. Flies swarm and buzz around him, and really, he doesn't seem to mind. It makes one wonder if he is simply just a living corpse. It's a miracle that he isn't horribly sick all of the time.

He stinks like a rotting corpse, and his salivary glands seem to be overactive, as he drools a lot.

He has a few parasites (bot flies, mango worms) living in his body due to all the attention from these insects, and from playing around in corpses. They bother him, and have made him ill on a few occasions, but he doesn't have the heart to get rid of them, or know where to start.

There is something terribly wrong. There is something terribly wrong. There is something terribly, horribly wrong. Perhaps it was from birth, as the placenta rotted next to him for days, as his mother slept, drained. Perhaps it was from childhood, crawling into the corpse of some great dead thing and nesting within its filth until his mother could cry out no more. Perhaps it was from waking up one morning to a familiar scent, of two still bodies next to his and hours of joy ahead.

Whatever it was, his parents are too dead to care now. He'd collected their bones and played in their rotting flesh. They had raised him, they had loved him, they had given him everything they could. They'd even graciously left him their corpses. And now it was his turn.

His disgusting habits aside, Worm is highly intelligent. He uses his foul behaviour as a shield between himself and others, warding off the weakest of stomachs, blending into the night as others desperately try to avoid his wild gaze. He acts like a fool, unhinged and insane, while taking quiet notes, keeping tabs, and sorting this information into possible blackmail. He is not so much a chessmaster as he is nosy. He enjoys watching, and observing, both to make those around him increasingly uncomfortable, and out of pure glee at the mere idea that he might get to watch them squirm more.

Worm rarely does anything for anyone, unless he can either get something out of it, or avoid punishment. He takes and takes and takes, both a flaw and a horrible habit. But it's when, and to who he gives, and why, that speak of who he is. Gifts are not given easily. Kindness is not his natural state.

And sometimes kindness is yellow teeth in open jaws, or a half cleaned skull on your doorstep.

When he gets close to others, he likes to think that he's claimed them, fondly calling them his pets. He can be fairly possessive of these pets, but he will not go out of his way to control them. He simply suggests. Manipulates. Gives them the attention they want, but keeps them wanting. Nurturing dependency.

Friends: None.
Allies: None.
Location: On the border of the Pitt.

Character: me (vbscript).
Design Credit: PinkPieCat on deviantart.
Pixel Credit: ground-lion on deviantart.