BENNETT Oct 28, 2012 16:38:59 GMT -5
Post by Bennett on Oct 28, 2012 16:38:59 GMT -5
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Aloof and suspicious; Adaptable and versatile; Communicative and witty; Intellectual and eloquent; Youthful and lively; Emotional and loving; Intuitive and imaginative; Shrewd and cautious; Protective and sympathetic; Nervous and tense; Superficial and inconsistent; Cunning and inquisitive; Changeable and moody; Tetchy and aggressive; Introspective and unable to let go
Ben is somewhat dual-natured, elusive, complex and contradictory. On the one hand he has the virtue of versatility in a vast array of circumstances, and on the other the vices of jealousy and stubbornness. There is very little that phases Ben, he is calm, consistent and he’s about as laid back as they come- having said this, get up in his grill, or step over the threshold of his personal bubble without an invite (difficult to come by, between you and me) and you’ll get put in your place very abruptly. Gruff; now, this word alone would be enough to rid him of your interest, surely? In fact, that is exactly why he is so rough around the edges. He likes to stay out of the way of others, always has done, and by being cold and indifferent from the outset pretty much seals the deal as far as being ignored is concerned. Suits him fine- It’s nothing personal, usually. It’s not even like he values his own company, really. Ben never has had time to spend wasting time making inane conversation for conversation’s sake. He has the uncanny ability to judge others from the outset. In the blink of an eye he’ll have you pegged- eerie, and a little unnerving but it is something that he uses to gauge the intent of others. It’s not always accurate, but... it’s had its uses in the past.
Strong, unwavering loyalty and deep seated morals are something that he has fostered and kept very poignant as far as traits are concerned. ‘Manners maketh man’, even if man wags his tail before pouring the tea. One might actually describe much of his personality as somewhat archaic in ways. Whilst the world has moved on, and people’s thoughts and morals with it, Ben remains rather old fashioned, as it were. He is very much stuck in his ways, and comfortable there. Others have tried to ‘get him out of his rutt’, and he has remained firmly moulded to it. Though he may not talk much in either form, and though he may be somewhat grumpy or monosyllabic with his replies, you are granted with a reply regardless of his mood, further proving that he does have manners, and is polite- no matter how well concealed this might be.
Whilst Ben swears by being alone, what he will never accept is that being with others actually does him good. Being with others stops him from thinking too deeply about things that should only be taken in the shallowest of contexts, and it keeps him in the real world, which actually... is very important. He is all too able to create his own reality, and go into his thoughts- it is then that he becomes the belligerent, grumpy old sod that everyone is so tired of, or so he perceives. There is such a thing as feeling alone in a crowd and Ben’s awkwardness and inability to settle down in the presences of others exacerbates this feeling. He could be deemed to be a rogue at heart, but in reality, he is a truly seasoned pack member.
Itchy feet are a vice. He can’t stay still for more than a couple of hours, and is rarely where others expect him to be. He likes to keep himself busy scouting, or hunting, or... whatever he can find to keep his mind, and time occupied, being idle is a sin, after all. More often than not, others tire of his restlessness and brooding silence and move on, so creating any sort of relationship or friendship as a result of this is nigh on impossible. Being dropped is second nature, and being ignored is pretty comfortable. He is not an open book in the slightest. A padlocked and chained journal full of secrets that spiral down into the depths of his existence, yes... but easily read? No. Ben is definitely one of those difficult reads unless you get him to open up, which in itself is virtually impossible. He is, more often than not, reluctant to engage in conversation, so unless you have the patience of a Saint it is unlikely that you’ll really get to know him. On the flipside, if you persevere, there is a slim chance that you might be rewarded. Pin him down and you might manage to get past that gruff, gravelly shell of his. He definitely requires an exuberant, fizzy, perhaps even a somewhat curious and naive character to lever him out of his hermit shell, he’s just yet to find one that he can tolerate for long enough.
When it comes to other’s misdemeanours- he festers over things. He’s no angel, granted, but he’ll quite literally take something that someone has said, or done, no matter how trivial and allow it to ferment in his subconscious to toxic levels. It has, at times, turned him very bitter towards the individual, and somewhat vengeful. It is, however, something in himself that he is aware of, even though he finds it hard to ignore. He is deeply sensitive, and very affected by those around him. He gets defensive and he is known to get jealous very easily, especially if he has invested what he sees as a lot of time in another, and they effectively get bored of him and move on. This is something that happens to him on regular occasions and it is really, truly guts him like salmon in grizzly claws. Despite appearances, he loves unconditionally and very deeply, on a level that not many others will understand.
Warmth is something one might not associate with this rough edged individual, but he really is a diamond beneath the rock and gravel. He has strange and endearing warmth that reaches beyond tangible comprehension, and the intrinsic ability to make others feel comfortable. He’s also a very good ear or shoulder for those desperate enough to seek him out- simply because, despite frank emotional ineptitude, you won’t get him interjecting unless specifically asked. He is, above all things, accepting, empathetic and sympathetic to others in his own gruff way.
Ben is great with the young, tolerant and patient to the fullest extent and more than capable of holding his own in the tense or stressful character clashes that inevitably happen between individuals. He's a gentle soul who tends to keep himself to himself for the majority. Ask no questions, tell no lies. He is honest to a fault, though rarely will speak up unless spoken to. Stoicism is something that is practically cannon to his trait list. He's a patient and thoughtful creature who will stand back and observe rather than just leaping in feet first.
Bennett was born to a pair of wild dingoes, on the furthest southerly point of Fraser Island, Australia one can get to. As Dingoes are exclusive to their mates, his litter was lucky enough to have a mother and a father to raise them, which gave them the best possible start- even though it was a little mechanical in its nature. Sleep, wake up, get fed, play, sleep, get fed, play, sleep.
This was to be the pair’s second litter, and they were quietly hopeful that it would be better than their first, having lost them all to one thing or another that time round. His birth was normal, despite the loss of one of his siblings to asphyxiation in the birth canal, Bennett, who at that point was unnamed, came out unscathed, and was the only boy in his brood. He was brought up under the watchful eyes of his mother and father, along with his surviving siblings, forever being instructed that they were to avoid human contact as much as physically possible. They were told to forever be looking over their shoulders, and to only take from what was left for them on the side of the road. He despised this, picking from the trash, when there was perfectly good stock just standing around chewing on the ground. Despite this thought, he followed his parent’s wishes, even though humankind filled him with intrigue.
It took a whole lot of effort to feel at one with his siblings; with the ways of his pack and Ben always felt that there was something not quite right, something missing. Even the smallest fraction of a thing as it was, it constantly niggled at the back of his mind. There was only so much scrounging, and basking in the sun he could cope with. With the seeming curse of a curious nature, nothing was enough. There was always something new to experience, and learn. His ‘itchy foot syndrome’ had plagued him from a mere few weeks old, and it wasn’t about to disappear any time soon. He used to stray to the wide, open beaches, often on his own or with one of his sisters in tow. Quite often they came across humans walking their dogs, or riding horses out on the flats, and without fail, whichever sister it was... would vanish into thin air. Ben always hesitated but opted, in the end, to stay behind, hanging out of reach, ever curious, ever watchful. The creatures intrigued him beyond compare, and on some level he actually identified with them.
It was one trip out, away from the prying eyes of his parents and the annoyance of his sisters being present, comfortable in his own company, that he witnessed something utterly incredible. He’d been enjoying the afternoon sun beating down on his coat, warming his bones as he lay sprawled in an ungainly heap of limbs over the sandy grasses of one of the dunes just away from the flat of the shore. A flock of seagulls landed just shy of the water’s edge, and he’d only lifted his head literally a fraction as their obnoxious calling reached his consciousness to catch a glimpse of where they were in relation to him. Just as his lips peeled back in a sneer, and his muscles flinched ready for him to spring up and launch himself into the thick of the gathering, one of them shifted into a human right before his eyes. Instead of springing up, he merely lifted his head, and came round from his stupor almost instantly.
They locked eyes for mere seconds before Bennett scrambled to his feet and scrabbled for a foot hold in the damp sand only to fall into a flat-out, lengthy stride, showering sand from his coat in his wake. He must’ve been running for about ten minutes when he finally slowed down to first a trot and then hesitantly fashioned an almost ataxic walk by slowing down further, all the while he looked back over his shoulder. It had been both amazing, and terrifying all at once. The sudden surge of adrenaline had coursed through his veins like acid, burning through the fibres of his existence with a frenzied urgency to ‘get away’. Why, though? It wasn’t like he was attacked... it had obviously just become intrinsic. To avoid humans at all costs. That... thing wasn’t human though, surely? It started out as one of those annoying, sarcastic seabirds. Amongst the thousands of questions that ran through his head repeatedly, one hovered in his reach, so vivid that it puzzled him for many days post the event: How?
So this was the first instance of realisation, for Ben. Not that he acknowledged it, of course.
The problems started when he became a little too bold for his own good, clearly having healed post his traumatic farmer incident. He’d been pushing the boundaries as it was, really. He’d had his parents, and pack mates fretting about his whereabouts on so many occasions that they had finally decided that he was old enough to look after himself. He usually hovered on the periphery of the pack, anyhow, but what happened on the day that he found himself in the clear waters of the pool of a rather posh hotel, will forever live infamy. He was hungry, the sort of hungry that burns your stomach, and twists your gut in multiple places. There was a barbeque being held at one of the private hotels, and of course it is the sort of smell that grabs you by the snout and quite literally drags you to wherever it’s being held. Long and short of it? Ben turned up, he stole a rack of ribs, and was cornered, in the swimming pool, of all places.
Now this is a situation that Ben wasn’t overly expecting. He’d frozen, physically and mentally. His thought processes had infarcted and his limbs were suddenly useless, suspended in chlorinated water and he felt that bizarre tingle slipping, silkily down his spine. Fear, unmistakeably. However, he wasn’t expecting to emerge from the water, trembling, with muscled human arms wrapped around his middle, human legs and feet carrying him, slip-sliding to the shallow end of the pool where webbed paws should have been doing the work with a tail for a rudder. All of those present were about as flabbergasted as he was. He just about managed to plead for retribution, when he felt a sharp stinging pain in the side of his neck, and he reached up to pluck a dart from his neck just in time for the image of the crowd to melt, spin and fade into a void of black and his ears were engulfed in the hiss of static white noise.
Bennett had, unfortunately, practically walked himself into The Menagerie. Albeit an accident, he’d still managed to put himself in the position he found himself in. This was obviously, mostly due to his undying, uncontrollable curiosity, but also partly attributed to a certain degree of recklessness. He woke up face down on the cold floor of a cage, a hand-towel sized blanket tossed over his naked rump to conceal what must’ve, he mused, been offensive to other’s eyes seeing as all of the other creatures had on some sort of woven ‘concealer’ type affair. When he was awake enough to actually swallow without almost consuming his own tongue in the process, he was offered food and water. They left him a pair of jeans, a vest top and a zip-up hooded sweater. They ignorantly demanded his name, and as he didn’t have one he didn’t answer for a good few seconds until he caught a glimpse of a gas pipe behind the two legged creatures before him and he uttered the namesake that he now knows as his own.