View topic - Tracker Dogs V2.0 [Series 20] (2024)

๑ ☣ Tracker Dog Application Series 20 ☣ ๑

๑ ☣ Tracker Dog #67 ☣ ๑
Gender: Male
A new Tracker. Stronger, larger and faster than any other Tracker. He's co*cky, wild and he might be harder to handle. The small set of arms can easily be moved, even to the side, to greet someone or grab a small item. He can be used in any environment and for any task, and he'll gladly accept any challenge. He has much better hearing than the average Tracker and his longer nasal sensor suggest better sense of smell. Fear can easily be detected by him, which might make him agressive. Treat him with respect and he'll be a partner like no other. Depending on your weight, you might even be able to ride him.

๑ ☣ Username: ☣ ๑
ChiCha (FieryFilly & ChiCha)
๑ ☣ Tracker Dog you want: ☣ ๑
№ 67
๑ ☣ Name you'll give it: ☣ ๑
Vilmos
(Means: Determined Fighter)
๑ ☣ Height: ☣ ๑
Roughly 3 ft 11.24 inches (120 cm)
๑ ☣ Weight: ☣ ๑
More or less 240 pounds
(this is a rough estimate, not exact)
๑ ☣ Theme song: ☣ ๑
When They Come For Me – Linkin Park

๑ ☣ Reason why you want it: ☣ ๑
Well I can honestly say I've never been interested in User-Made Adoptables here on CS until about a week, (two at most) ago, when I came across Ahzenai and other amazing designs by the lovely people on CS. <3 Anywhos though, I absolutely <3LOVE<3 to RP and write stories, that's actually my dream when I get older, to become an author, maybe even international? xP One can hope and dream right? Anyways, back to the subject at hand, so as I said I just recently became interested in User-Made Adoptables, and as I was messing around searching through the forum, I came upon this little darling topic, (no sarcasm included). I naturally clicked on the link, and it brought me to this page, one that I swear would have a 99.99% chance of being my #1 on best User-Made Adoptables list, (I swear on my life I'm being dead serious), I fell in love with the Tracker Dogs immediately, because I've always been the kind of person with an interest of things out of the norm or that are just creatively ingenious, (I'm an artist too, did I mention that? xP), so as I read the first post I became saddened that the person who had created the Tracker Dogs was "retiring" from the project.

As my spirits were dampened I kept reading and looking through the topic, and came across the Trackers themselves. As each scroll took me one Tracker to the next, my jaw dropped further, and my lust to have one of them grew. I finally came to the bottom of the post, and I thought I'd lose my jaw. There was the most amazing Tracker Dog I had seen in the entire bunch, and as soon as I saw his description, I was craving to get him. I've always wanted to create a character (girl) who was off the charts bad, getting into fights and whooping the guys' butts, not taking orders from anyone, and even a person who is pigheaded, slightly arrogant, and aggressive, especially around males since she loves to over-power them. And what do you know, PING! This Tracker meets her head on and would give me the best inspiration for me to finally get a move on with someone like her. So, the main reason for me wanting him is for other RPs, (including one that in currently in progress called The Arcanus Academy), for stories that feature him and my kick-butt girlie (whose name shall be Drew, epic right?), and because he's purely and awesomely epic!

My second reason for wanting him is because, as I said earlier, I was so devastated when Nex said she was leaving, and that this would be her last main litter, so I would love to have a Tracker from her last official litter and that is of a new breed-in-the-making-prototype and him to be my first Tracker Dog EVER! And I know how hard this will be for you Nex, I myself am really at a loss of words on half of these applications, (and I definitely know which would be the ones to beat mine/that are more likely to win), everyone has worked so insanely hard to get #67 because as well all know, he's the first of his kind, and last of his maker.

I'll be ordering TONS of art for him, (I'd like to get at least 8-14 pieces of him from different artists <3), even if I run dry of pets from our trade group, (which hopefully won't happen, because if it does Fie will chomp my head off, xD).

So good luck to all, and whoever wins, if you like I can PM you my art of him, or even edit it if you would like. ^^

๑ ☣ Will it be used in any kind of story? ☣ ๑
Naturally! I actually have a couple ideas for a few, but there are two that really stand out for me. Of course one of the main stories is part of the Introduction down below, where the most basic, basic, baseline is: a headstrong, tom-boyish girl who finally clashes with someone, or more like something, who is just like her, to her it's just another obstacle to overcome, but as things progress between the two, what if the thing she needs to overcome is her own self, and to maybe back down and let someone else win the battle for once, and will her new frenemy, who thinks and is just like her in almost every way, maybe learn to ease up just like her, or will they be butting heads all the way through? ...

Again, I'm still molding that idea around, though the next idea is more solid: Drew has always been a total gamer, it's literally her addiction, she plays night and day, and it's questioned how/when/if she sleeps or eats, and how she manages to keep all A's in her classes in high school? She finally beats a long time progressed game, and as soon as she does, is bored out of her mind. So after searching for hours for something new, something catches her eye. A virtual simulation game that you literally interact with, and you get your own special companion too, a Tracker Dog of a certain breed that after you take a quiz, will be automatically be matched to you. She registers, but as she does she doesn't notice a once in a life-time contest that is going on, the grand prize being over a million game bucks and the newest breed of Tracker Dogs, and there will only ever be one of its kind made, and so, as she is the 54,309,202th person to join, she wins!... I'm still working on the rest of the baseline for it, but basically what I mean by interaction game, is that this game (name not thought of yet) is an entire new system where you buy special arm, hand, leg, and feet pads that strap on, and a light weight helmet that once hooked up and turned on, literally lets you look and walk around the game! If I do get Vilmos, I'll let 5-8 people PM me if they want to be a part of this story with their tracker and human character and whether or not they'd like to be a friend, helping my character along the way, or someone to become her mortal enemy, building brick walls in front of her path through each step she takes.

๑ ☣ Do’s and Likes: ☣ ๑
◙ being alone and having privacy
◙ being waited on by others
◙ going fast and things that are fast
◙ Base sounds and vibrations
◙ working out, jogging, running, swimming, lifting weights
◙ fights
◙ challenges (as long as they are not annoying or take too long, unless he is very determined about it)

๑ ☣ Don’ts and Dislikes: ☣ ๑
◙ having to wait, (he is in no way, and cannot be patient)
◙ extremely loud sounds, noises, or music (unless it is a thick and full base sound)
◙ being annoyed and having to be near or deal with annoying people
◙ having to do simple things for himself
◙ sitting around and doing nothing, (he cannot stay still for very long)
◙ being proven wrong, he wants to always be right, no matter what, and will never accept that he is wrong to anyone, although he'll know he is inside

๑ ☣ Describe its personality: ☣ ๑
&&
co*cky:: As it is already well known from his tests, Vilmos is very co*cky, so much that his co*ckiness shapes a good portion of his personality. He knows that he's a current best of the best of the entire Tracker Dogs series thus forth, and he's even more so co*cky since he knows he is the last of the line from the almighty Nexivyle Ta'ar. He pictures himself like a diamond, only better, in how shiny it is, its indestructibility, and in it's worth.

Always In Charge:: Vilmos will take no other place than first, in any contest, challenge, or in any command. He will not stand for being ordered about like a puny mutt, it's his way or the highway, and with his ferocity and size, you really have no other option. He's always been one to dominate and give the harshest of punishments even if you are only a sliver of a hair out of line, so make sure to get his rules and his motto tattooed to your brain, or you will be wishing you were never born. This goes for every, and anyone, except maybe one person... And a half... If he does seem to find that one person he can look up to, they won't be treated as badly, and if they are lucky, they could be close to an equal through his eyes, but it has always been warned to never get your hopes up. As for the half person, he refers this as his creator, Nex, he respects her, and doesn't always try and get rule over her since she has made him the best of the best, and though he has never said it and will never say it, you can tell he thanks her for it, so just because he doesn't acknowledge that you did something good for him, just give it a while and then later on you should be able to tell just how he has taken to your deed.

&&
Wild:: Anything and everything is a game or a contest for this overly vain, exceedingly high self-esteemed, rough-houser. It's because of those three wonderful words that he more than lives up to, Vilmos really brings a new definition to gloating and showing off, burning everyone else out and only having to work minimally to be the best as always, prancing around a lolly-gagging, having the time of his life while his "competitors" are giving him the dirtiest of stares, (which are done behind his back, or else they would lose their eyes). He's over the top in everything he does, and over-achiever, but not the good kind, the kind that you wish would just stop after the first twenty billion times of their work.

Vilmos is also quite similar to the crazy high-school senior or late college student, going to each and every party invited to, crashing all the ones they weren't, and going completely bonkers, as they drink the strongest alcohol, laugh like the drunks they are, and shouting like lunatics loud enough to keep the neighborhood more than wide awake. He's also like those students by their notorious sneaking out when "grounded", driving the car without permission and worst, without a license, and naturally being the center of the teacher's attention in every class they have (if you understand the severe misbehavior hinted in there). Though, if he doesn't reach that level of complete wackiness, Vilmos does though, know how to have a good time.

A hazard to the world:: So as it had already been brought forth for all eyes to read, Vilmos is wild, and therefore dangerous. He does what he wants, when and where he wants to, and if he feels like it, will command anyone to go along with him, or do the task for him. Essentially if he were a power-hungry psychopath, he would take over the world within days, if not hours, but he thankfully is not, because the key to the life of mankind would and probably does rest solely in him and his actions. If he becomes too angered, and is nearby to and explosive containment center, he through all his blind fury destroy it, causing catastrophic damage all throughout the area. Even though he may not mean it, and he naturally would never say that he didn't, his supreme hostility, recklessness, and immense anger issues are quite risky, almost make you gasp for breath just by the sound of something like such...

&&
Aggressive:: He’s always been the kind of person who forces people to do what he wants them to do, but besides that he loves to push everyone else around since he can, and no one can stop him. Whenever someone approaches him, he immediately becomes tense, and makes it clear to them that he is that way. He likes his space, so if anyone unknown to him comes even an inch closer than four feet from him, he will jump up and let a growl, one that you would never imagine a dog to make, rip out from the depths of his throat as his sharp and deadly teeth are bared. If the person approaching is a male, he does this within the first ten feet, and if it is a male who looks, smells, and is acting exceedingly strange, he will not let them come within five yards of him. On a final note, Vilmos will always put up a fight, if his answer isn’t yes for anything he requests, he will either just go ahead and do it or persist and keep going until he receives his desired answered, and if you do something bad of mean to him, he’ll do it right back without a second thought, and much worst at that. So when around him, be prepared to experience a little piece of h*ll.

Fearless:: This plays along with the lines of his co*ckiness. He knows there are seldom things or living beings that could harm him in any way possible, which has made his fearless. If he were to walk into the scariest movie of the time, it would be nothing but a bluff to him, after seeing the so called scare factor. He in himself redefines the scare factor, especially when he gets angry or his aggression takes place. He'd take a holding stance, upper lip curled, teeth threateningly bared, hackles raised, and the open rounds on his mask that seem to be eyes would furrow slanting down, giving him the purest evil of all evil and menacing looks, and it is this same stance that would bring most close to death just for seeing him this agitated.

He does have other ways though, to pull fear out of every soul, such as simply preying upon a lonely wandering being walking slowly down the streets blackened with night, their only source of light and hope coming from a flickering yellow-tinted light post still a block away

Untrusting:: Since he is very aggressive, especially towards those he knows nothing of, that automatically shows that Vilmos is untrusting. He knows the ways of humans and of all living beings in general, play nice and appease to every will, finally gain complete the person’s entire trust, and when that is finally fulfilled, stab them in the back, ruthlessly and mercilessly. It would either take months of constantly being around him and gaining his trust and respect for him to become your companion, or possibly a once in a lifetime occurrence for him to see what kind of person you are, making his decision then and there… But even with that he would still on the side keep a quiet eye on you. In general he isn't the kind of guy who likes company, unless he's getting the better of every single person in any or in every way possible, or the center of attention, being cooed by everyone there on how amazing and cool and blah blah blah, that he is. Vilmos is a very dark and secretive Tracker when he wants to be, but he doesn't like the people that also have these qualities either, odd isn’t it? Well deal with it.

&&
Zero Tolerance:: Vilmos will only tolerate other males or any species to the fifth percentile, thought if they are of his kind he tolerates them to the 10th percentile. In general, he doesn't like people, he tolerates girls and their drama, unless it gets way too out of hand, but because of his aggression, he does not like males of any species, even his own, but he will just barely put up with them, as said earlier. He's made it clear that he will take nothing than the absolute best, anything, even a spec less, will be your death note. he's already made it clear not to mess with him in any way at all, if you poke him, he'll rip your arm off, if you are pushed into him by someone else, he'll rip both of your sorry heads off. If this high and tight guy could talk, his voice would be rugged, deep, and thickly layered with darkness as he said, "It's a simple rule, don't bother or annoy me, so follow it you measly bastards."

Easily Fired Off:: He despises everyone else, except for the select few he has come to be acquainted with or has at least met with light terms, there are a good few things that can fire him off, even something as slight as a wrong look at him, someone acting odd or suspicious in one way or another, or even a simple cough or twitch in body movement. To others this would seem more paranoid than anything, which he may slightly be, though overall, it is just his cautious and untrusting nature that brings this about. He loves trouble, but also despises it, the occasion would control on his like or dislike of the trouble, like meaning for him to have something to do and possibly become mischievous, dislike in the way of it wasting his precious time therefore causing him to go on a rampage and then bringing on a bad result to the trouble, maybe even increasing it…

&&
Sly:: Vilmos can get out of anything, such as a high school student who sucks up to all the teachers and them in return giving him A’s and not caring in any way at all whether or not that student misses, (skips), any or all classes. He is also sly in the fact of sneaking around and devising the most cunning and sometimes crazy-scientist minded ideas and plans. He has a way with people, always knowing when to interrupt a conversation to have them lose track of what they were saying, and even distracting people with the thing he wants, dancing around the edges of him wanting it, and eventually tricking them into getting it for him.

Quick-Witted:: He's sharp, although he may seem just brawns as all assume him to be, but you can never judge a book by its cover, or in this case, tracker. If he happens to hear a question, whether or not it's about him or if he's even in the conversation in the first place, he will have an input, whether or not it's a viper whose venom strikes you with a quick sting, or if it's a slow intruding comment that will later bring pain, misery, or something bad to you. Sadness, despair, failure, weakness, all of these things fueling his happiness, and some think his energy, and the way he thinks outside the box, beforehand, and after hand, allows him to possess anything his thickly walled steel heart desires.

Plays on all the angles:: Vilmos gets whatever he wants, the exact moment he wants it, and it's not hard to believe because of how intimidating he is already, and the fact that if he wants something bad enough, he'll being playing on all the angles for sure, (even though he does it all the time anyways). He has many faces, poker faces are his strongest, showing the innocence and complete trusting, but behind there lies the ugly lies of him later on turning the tables, making up become the one upside down, and him being the flipside, right on top. He knows how to study people, to see what they want, and even what they need, and will fulfill, or pretend to fulfill each and every one of those requests, and even “lifting” the burdens off of their shoulders, and digitally caring it for them. Sounds pretty convincing right?

Forever Loyal:: There is one trait though, that few would think him to have, or to be associated with in any way possible, which is Loyalty. There is a catch though; he doesn't just go prancing about with just anyone, even if they are the most loyal to him than anyone else. Vilmos looks for specifics in people and in others in general, so what if you are loyal 24/7 to him? He hates that, he likes excitement; he wants to be disobeyed because he never has been before. It's like all the sayings of best friends, such as the one that goes "FRIENDS will bail you out of jail when you need it, BEST FRIENDS will be sitting right there next to you saying, We messed up". He wants to find someone like him, rough, cunning, and the rest of them just need to catch his attention. It will be hard though, because his untrusting nature gives him a hard core, but the day he finds his perfect other half, the missing puzzle piece or link even, he'll never leave that person's side. Not for money, fame, fortune, and he will surely never back down from protecting his companion, he would die first than let anything ever happen to them.

๑ ☣ Write an introduction for your Tracker: ☣ ๑
Beads of sweat ran furiously down my face, as if they themselves were trying to escape the fate I could be facing. They now surrounded me, five of the top ranking guys in the Vuist gang, one of the top gangs for miles around the city. They knew I fought well, and therefore wanted me to join they're little group, little being completely false since their numbers ranged in the double or even early triple digits. They believed in numbers and in strength, so therefore as soon as anyone grew too old, (around mid thirties or forties), or weakened, they'd go through a series of extensive tests to see whether or not they could stay or go, or if they would just get kicked out automatically. Their next philosophy had to do along the lines of keeping their people strong by "selective breeding", (disgusting right?), as they put it, but in a sense they were right, because it worked.

I myself would have never had anything to do with these a-holes, except when I was minding my own business one night; walking back late from the gym, one of their thugs attacked me, so naturally I whooped his sorry arse. He had actually been in the top ten of them, and they took great notice in this, so naturally they went looking for me, and as soon as they found me, they asked at first for me to join, but as soon as I slightly-politely, (well maybe I had been a bit jerk-ish...), declined, they threatened me to join or they-

My thoughts were cut off when I received a punch in the gut from one of them and before I could whip around, another nailed me in the jaw, causing my mouth to start bleeding slightly. I dodged the next attack, and managed to nail two of them with a jumping kick, and have them distracted long enough for me to make a mad dash out of the circle of death, not life, certain death!

My dark brown, almost black hair whipped behind me in its little ponytail, slapping my back, in a way almost resembling a whip pushing me on to go faster, and for good reason. As soon as I peeked behind me I saw them hot on my trail, and this time- Something whistled past me, impacted on the space in front of me, and made a huge hole in the dull red, brick wall in front of me, only two inches to the left of where my head had been. Oh joy, the nut-heads have guns... I thought bitterly. I kept going, trying to take as crazy of a route as possible, turning every corner so that they wouldn't be able to get a good shot at me. But they kept right on behind me. I finally passed into an alley with a bunch of stacked up garbage cans and old boxes, so I pulled down the leaning tower, causing a huge avalanche of garbage, debris, and an etcetera amount of other items to pile up in the thin alley. Blocking the way completely. Even with this in mind, I still kept running.

My breathing soon became harsher though, and even my body ached with stress. I finally slipped through another alley, sliding around the corner, cutting my hand while I grabbed the edge of the old sharp-stoned wall as I swung myself around, and busted through a back door.

I looked around, and assessed I was in a strange factory, (not really, I saw a paper inside someone's office that was strangely right by the desolate door I had just come through.) I closed the back door, but realized since it had been unlocked that the guys could and would come bursting through at any given moment.

Searching desperately for something to blockade the door with, I scanned the area directly around me, but it was mostly in vain. There wasn't much, actually, there wasn't anything that I could have used, the walls were spotlessly clean, (which annoyed the living c*** out of me), my room had never been this tidy, and never would, but seriously? What factory was this f******* neat? I swear at that moment I felt and thought something big were up, but it hadn't turned into a gut feeling, (one that was 87% of the time right, to which I never ignored), so I let that feeling just pass by, for now...

I then remembered I was trespassing and wondering why me kicking the door open hadn't set off any alarms, every factory or big building I had broken into, (for one reason or another...), had alarms blaring loud enough and lights beaming bright enough, for me to now have weakened eyesight and hearing, (well that, and the fact that I almost always listened to my music all the way loud, even past that, and the fact that I had done so many sun staring contests, but that's not important.)

Sliding along the wall, and peeking around the corner of the office nearest to me, I saw no one there. I checked the second office, no one there either. I sneakily slipped inside the second office, which was just as, if not even more sanitary than the hallway, and rummaged around, not thinking about the fact that even the slightest change in position of anything would alarm whoever worked here about someone going through their stuff, but at the moment, I really couldn't have given any less of a s***.

After a few minutes of destroying the office, I finally found something of interest. In one of the desk drawers something caught my eyes, or more like a bunch of different shiny things caught my eyes. It was a huge loop of keys, the loop itself bigger that my wrist, I couldn't even tell how many keys were on there, or how the person had managed to attach them all to the ring itself.

Without a second thought I snatched up the keys, (which I swear weighed at least six pounds), and moseyed over to the door. Carefully inspecting the doorknob and lock, I decided my best bet was to find a key matching the color and basic incisions in the lock, which left me looking for a dark bronze key, medium sized, and with two incisions on the left, and three on the right.

As soon as my head dropped down to the ring of keys, I swore about five different things per second, for a full minute; a new record. "Joy..." I said under my breath, more sarcastically than needed since I was talking to myself, and I knew that I meant it sarcastically. My now ever so joyful mood, (note the sarcasm), was due to the fact that the neat freak who the keys belonged to, had them sorted into four sections: gold, silver, bronze, and the last section was an assortment of different colors and shapes, each section starting from biggest to smallest.

It wasn't that the sorted keys were a problem, but I could not stand complete neatness and order, I was a total chaos promoting person, and this place was really giving me the heebie jeebies. Instead of wasting my time flipping carefully through each of the bronze keys, I grabbed the middle-most section of them and started jamming each and every one of them into the lock. This wasn't very successful, especially when I discovered numbers on each of the keys. I looked up at the door I was failing to lock, and saw the numbers 1-05-29 on it. I shook out the remaining keys until I found one with the matching numbers.

Finally I picked the key out, (the floor now covered with keys), which had been close to my original guess, and as I began to reach the tip of it into the lock, time slowed down, moving like you would through caramel. The knob began to turn eerily, like in all the scariest of movies right as the bad guy or monster was just about to burst in and devour or kill the good guy, and this was my reality.

I slammed my body against the door full on, and rapidly jammed the key in, twisting it harder than needed, and too far to the right, causing it to break.

Fists and feet were the first things heard banging against the door, and I think I believe in God now, because I immediately got this strange feeling and dropped, (almost like a person who was standing and had a heart attack would), "dead" to the floor, and at that moment, a rain of fires from guns came, and though most had become stuck in the thick metal door, other bigger and stronger ones had fought their way through, coming close enough to where I previously stood, that if I had been upright, I would no longer be present.

I knew the door wouldn't hold back forever against these guys, so I got up and began to run for my life, again. My move was too soon. Another bullet was shot, hitting me in the left thigh. I stumbled, clutching the wound and coughing up some blood that I had almost swallowed from when I had been punched in the mouth, but forced myself to keep running.

No pain, none, never again...

Those words that were the feature of my life, were brought to the front of my brain in big red flashing letters. I kept running, well more like fast jogging now since my leg her so much. I swung around a few corners, and kept going down hall after hall; this place seemed like an unending labyrinth, the workers here creepily resembling zombies as I tore past them.

I thought I was far enough, and allowed myself to collapse next to the wall. I closed my eyes and tried to just breathe as blood still came out of my leg. I was like this for a few more minutes, until I heard muffled chatter. My mahogany-brown eyes flew open and I realized I was beside another office, (what was with this place an offices?). I turned around and got on my knees so that I could peek through the window to find it was dark inside, the only light source was a screen that a projector was playing something on. I still couldn't quite tell what it was so I pressed my face against the window until I could comprehend was going on in the large office.

The people inside, or the majority of them being the ones watching the screen, seemed as though they were younger, and the fact that they were wearing regular clothes, (some of the more geeky ones taking extensive notes), led me to assume they were lab workers in training.

I walked on my knees so that I wouldn't be seen by anyone, which I highly doubted anyway since there was no one in the hallway and everyone inside was watching whatever it was on the screen, over to the door of the office and carefully and dead silently opened it, just a crack so my eyes could watch the projection clearer and my ears could listen to it better:

Nexivyle steps onto the stage that was placed in the guest area to make an announcement in regards to series 20. Target is quick to follow her onto the stage and sits beside her, keeping a watchful view on the gathered crowd. A gaze is cast over the crowd by Nexivyle and a smile plays on her lips, though quickly makes way for a grin as she starts to speak.

"Series 20.. It's nearing completion. Everyone doubted me, said I couldn't pull off such marvelous creations, but I'll prove them wrong! I'll create marvels of science which'll shock even the most sceptic of scientists. Even with the limitations that are the Tracker Dogs' true form, I'll show everyone who's the true scientist around here! Oh, yes, this alien shall show everyone the true meaning of genetic manipulation. Restricted to functionality, stopped by species, rivaled by known shapes and halted by fear, all these things cannot stop me from proving that I'm more than someone that makes dogs. I am not someone that plays with nature, I improve it! I shall show everyone how far these Tracker Dogs can go to complete their tasks. I am Nexivyle Ta'ar, and I will make you tremble in fear and shiver in delight at the exact same time upon seeing my final series!"

A loud and eerie cackle follows her speech before silence falls down upon the crowded room and Nexivyle leaves to return to her work. Not giving anyone time to ask any further questions, as Target's deep growl makes sure to keep any nosey people at bay before she too leaves to join her master.

"Someone's been on too many happy pills..." I mumbled under my breath.

Just then the screen went to black and though everything was black, I could just barely make out the figure of someone walking towards the door, saying he would get the lights.

I high tailed it out of there, right before the lab worker saw me, and was running down the white hospital-like hallways once more. I shivered as I glanced around me, I had been in way too many hospitals for way too many reasons, all of those times never being good. I needed to find a way out before I lost my sanity, and any more blood. The wound from the shot itself was small since I was only shot with a .44-caliber “pocket cannon”, the only reason I knew this is because I saw it through the holes the other guys with the shotguns had made, but it still hurt like crazy, and bled more than it should have, which meant it had to have hit something important or so.

I hadn't really been paying attention on where exactly I had been going while I was so in thought, and the next thing I knew after waking up from La-La Land, was me heading straight into a door, which thank the lord I now believe in, because the door was left cracked open, so I didn't end up cracking my head on the 2 feet thick steel door.

When I collided with it, the thing felt lighter than a feather, swiftly opening just as I barely began to make impact with it, so the majority of my collision was with the floor as I slid, and skidded to a stop, lying down on my back.

I rubbed my face and groaned, I could take a lot, but today was a really bad day for me, all of my injuries literally happening in the past three-quarters of an hour. "Oh. My. F***. I said loudly and gruffly as I began to sit up, but my body tensed up, my muscles pulling together tightly, giving me a pain that I could just barely endure, meaning you yourself would rather be shot than to have it.

I had to sit in that position for the next fifteen minutes, waiting for the pain to slide off, and when it did I received the worst chill, but it was my sign that I was free from that cage of stiffness and pain I had just been trapped in.

I stood up carefully, still shaken by all I had just done, and was finally able to take a moment and see the exact place, or room more precisely, I was in currently. The majority of it was dark, but there was a light mist around, the room itself having to be around 60°F or lower, and that's when my slow brain finally processed the large cylinders on the right side of the room that encompassed an eerie light to them.

I walked, like a child does when they see a shiny new toy or bright chewy candy, towards the large glass cylinders. They were all foggy and the majority of them from what I could tell were filled with a light green tinted liquid bubbling and swirling around the tank, seeming as though they wished to escape from their confinement. As I took another step closer I noticed a dark shape inside of the tank I was in front of and wanted to know what could be kept within these large tanks.

I raised my hand and laid it onto the surface of the glass, which was dry-ice cold, causing me to recoil, slowly rubbing my now burnt-ish hand, (it was so cold it burnt, if you've ever experienced that before). I sucked it up though, and simply went on with rubbing the thin dew-like layer of ice off.

I finally was able to remove enough of it to quickly peer into it, to see what was inside. As my dark eyes finally centered in on the dark thing inside I honestly thought my eyes were lying to me. I rubbed my eyes and looked closer, this time, instead of a dark blob barely able to make-out where it started and where it ended, I saw now a body-like figure, something similar to a dog, only it was blue-ish gray, with fins, and... My breath caught in my throat as the last thing I looked upon were the biggest red, glowing eyes stared right through me.

I slowly began to walk backwards, half in fear, half in disbelief, what was the creature inside? I hadn't noticed where I was walking, and bumped into something tall and rectangular with many little pieces on it. Red lights began flashing and a blaring alarm began sounding all within the room. This alarm was so loud that I didn't notice the large door behind me closing or the other alarm sounding outside, signifying a break in...

Once the alarm inside the room had finished I thought I could still hear it, but I assumed I just had it stuck in my head. I whipped around and saw a large control desk behind me, diagonal from the containment cylinder I had just moments ago been standing at, though it was in front of yet another cylinder. I leaned to one side, grabbing the edge of the desk so that I wouldn't topple over, and saw a huge circle of cylinders, each with its own desk.

I stood upright once more and looked over at the desk. The part I had bumped into were controls though to the side I saw scattered notes and an open journal, or maybe it was a log? I wasn't sure and so my curiosity pulled me over to it.

I sat on the spinning rolly chair, (yeah I still say rolly chair, you got a problem with that?), and flipped to the front page, there it read:

DETAINMENT COMPLETED

"Uhh...?... What the-" I was cut off when the large door busted open.

They found me...

I tried to make a mad dash for it, but one of them shot me in my left thigh again. I skidded on the floor clutching my leg which hurt even worse now. They advanced towards me, and I knew I stood no chance.

But as fate may have it, something else happened instead to keep them away from me still. You could see the cylinder No. 67's glass parting, a fog pouring out as the extremely cold, dry, liquid-gas met the still very cold, but warmer oxygen.

Everything was still and finally, he stepped out, only a yard or two away from me. His muscles showed proudly underneath his brown shaded pelt, his structure even more amazing than he had looked from inside the tank, and his co*cky and strong face looking straight in our direction.

One of the guys finally run at him with his knife and tries to stab him, but for some reason I knew I had to protect this Tracker with my life, something I almost never did. I jumped up, cringing at the pain in my leg and trying to clench my teeth to hold the pain back, but I instead bit my tongue very hard, causing more blood to form in my mouth, and made a bee-line towards the guy, colliding with him, by elbow underneath his ribs, his knife lodging itself deep through my left thigh as I did so, and sent us both flying in the other direction.

While I flew through the air, I wasn't able to see the Tracker's face go from confused, to thoughtful, maybe slightly amazed, and then determined.

We landed, and by now I was losing an excessive amount of blood from my thigh, and with each drop lost, my energy and strength weakened. The guy got up though, pulled the knife out of my thigh, and tried to cut my throat, but out of nowhere, Tracker 67 launched himself at the guy, grabbing his torso and tearing a chunk out of it, throwing his body to the side, something I didn't cringe or gag at since I am used to that kind of thing.

All the guys then began firing shots at 67, trying to hit him, but he managed to dodge most of the bullets, taking only one in his left shoulder, and finally disappears in the blackness of the dark room. The Vuist know not to waste their time with him and then go back to me. One jumped on top of me, pinning my arms firmly down with a strong grip, and cut my cheek, then began to cut my arm, but in the middle of cutting it, I managed to wriggle my knee up and into his chin, making him fall back, and so I jumped up and swiped him from beneath his feet making him fall straight onto his back, and finally kicking the blade out of his hand, watching it slide halfway across the room.

I did it then.

They all then surrounded me again, in a perfect circle just like earlier, two of them pinning me down and saying viciously, "We want our bullet back." My eyes widened and flickered down to my left thigh. They were going to cut it out of me. Two grabbed their biggest knives from their side pockets and right as the tip of their blades touched my open flesh, I saw a movement behind them.

It was all oh so slow, the entire running through caramel once more. Tracker 67 was running wildly towards us, a determined look on his face, with a hint of anger building up inside of him. He swooped down and used his small right arm to grab the bloodied knife that I had kicked out of the first guy's hand, the same one I took for him.

No one else had heard or seen him due to his almost silent footsteps and stealth, but when he reached us, all h*ll broke loose. He jumped up and bit one of the larger guys in the jugular, breaking his neck, and while doing so stabbed the other guy next who was now to the right of him, piercing his heart, and leaving the sharp and jagged blade there.

The next thing that happened totally took me off guard. Tracker 67 jumped in front of me growling at the remaining Vuist. Another tried to run at him, but he grabbed their arm and shook them, tossing them to the side. What he didn't know was as the one guy had ran at him, the Vuist behind him was aiming his rifle.

My eyes widened in horror and I screamed, using the majority of the energy left in me to push him out of the way. The bullet fired just as I had pushed us out of the way, and grazed my hip.

Tracker 67 noticed my pain and he began to show the rest of the Vuist his power. He stood directly in front of me, hackles raised, feet and legs in a firm position so that he would not be able to move no matter what, even if a semi hit him, his large teeth were showing and foam began to form, the area where the patch of brown was, where I assume his eyes would be, looked slanted as if they were angry, and finally he let a growl rip out from the depths of his throat, a rumbling sound so menacing and death-assured that it seemed impossible that a dog would be able to make that sound, but he wasn't a dog, he was a Tracker, the best of the Trackers, a being like no other.

The last of the Vuist lost three shades of their skin tone, and I watched their eyes widen enough to probably pop out of their sockets. It was finally clear to them that they were overpowered and finally ran off, back out through the big door.

I took my jacket off and wrapped it around my leg, putting on pressure, Tracker 67 still looking menacing as he still had even though the threat had left.

The lights flashed on and I saw a stream of people, some workers, and some cops, poring through the large door witnessing the scene before them.

Finally, a lady made her way through, with what looked like another Tracker Dog by her side. As she came closer I recognized her.

"Nex..." I barely managed to say without choking.

She heard me well enough though and as she tried to get closer Tracker 67 let another growl rip through his throat. She herself looked astonished but stood where she was and said to me, "What happened?" I couldn't tell what her mood was, but I didn't worry about it and addressed her question,

"I am so sorry, this is all my fault. I was being chased by the Vuist Gang members, and I came in here and- and- and-..." I could feel warm tears trying to form in my eyes but I blinked them away, (I would not show weakness), but my reason for wanting to cry was very important to me, so many Trackers, especially 67, could have been hurt, or worst, destroyed.

I stood up, about to leave, but 67 turned to look at me, his stance had finally broken, and pushed me back down, knowing I didn't have the strength to stand, much less walk.

Nex finally saw the opportunity to come over to me, her Tracker trying to follow but 67 growled at it. Nex looked me over, and I thought I saw her eyes widened when they landed on my leg and she said speechless, "How are you not dead?" I knew the risk of my injury and said,

"I was beaten most of my life, abused, and that then led to wrestling, boxing, and when that all became boring for me, street fighting. I guess I've built up my pain tolerance and-" I realized my inconsiderate words and stopped immediately, looking away and mumbling to her,

"I am not important, your creations are beautiful, magnificent, and because of my recklessness all of your work could have been destroyed, especially Tracker 67."

I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked into Nex's eyes as she said, "It is not your fault, you would have been dead if you hadn't run into the lab." She paused, her eyes shifting to 67 for the slightest moment before she looked back at me and continued, "I've looked intently at Tracker 67 and it seems that he has gained trust in you, become attached to you in some way. How is this?" I was bewildered, but remembered the events that had taken place earlier and replied,

"I took a knife for him, causing my leg injury, and then pushed him out of a bullet's way... It wasn't anything re-" I was cut off by a motion of silence from Nex's hand as she smiled and said,

"He is not one easily moved, and you have done just that. He will now be with you for your entire life. Congrats. What will you name him Drew?"

I was at first confused about how she knew my name, but as the reality of what she said and what the meaning of the words meant, finally set in, I was truly speechless. He trusted me? He was mine?

I looked at him and said, "Does Vilmos sound ok to you? I wouldn't be here without you either you know." He head was in my direction, and I assumed he was just staring at me, but that twitch it his long green to red tongue made me take that as a yes. I gently rubbed his tough neck, and then patted it, "Thank you..."

Entire Personality, Likes, Dislikes, Dos, Don'ts, Story to be Used in, and the Introduction are all © to me, my entire idea for all of them was set up on an outline from the very beginning (since the entire litter was released, which was before I actually even posted my form). Tracker #67 is the only thing that isn't, he is © to Nex. DO NOT accuse me of stealing ideas from your form because I was only able to read 3 others, all were WIP so I do not know how half of them kept going on through the middle of their Introduction.