CONTENT WARNING FOR SELF—INFLICTED DEATH, MILITARISTIC THEMES AND MORE! 

ROLE. 

─── mutt ( recently re—made one ) 

FIRST NAME. 

─── quixote ( kiy—joh—tay )

ALIAS. 

───  halcón, spanish for hawk. it originated from his dreams of flying planes, and how he literally flew away from responsibility and his old place within the gang.  it's a both cruel and accurate joke referring to how he 'fled the nest' when it was time to settle. 

SURNAME. 

─── de la cruz.   

PREFERRED NAME. 

── xote,, always introduces himself has this. 

SEX. 

─── assigned male at birth. 

GENDER. 

─── cisgender male.   

PRONOUNS. 

───  he. him. his. 

SEXUALITY. 

─── homosexual homoromantic. 

DATE OF BIRTH. 

───  november seventeen. 

AGE. 

─── thirty—seven. 

PARENTS.  

─── roman de la cruz,, paternal father. 

          ✴️ still lives in the outer—edge of coyote city alone. they don't talk much, and frankly, xote                  can't remember anything to even talk about him with. it's just an awkward and                                    uncomfortable experience for the both of them. roman never approved of his interest in                  aviation, anyways. always said he was better off settling down and keeping his planes                        underneath la dama. 

─── angela de la cruz,, paternal mother. 

          ✴️ committed when he was around twelve. he claims to remember her scent perfectly and                  feels the ghost of her figure coddling him to sleep. clearly, the memory still haunts him                      no matter how much he tries to push it away. 

FACE CLAIM. 

─── pedro pascal. 

SMALL DESC. 

─── a rather compact man with a broad build. xote is short, but stocky with a heart—shaped face and bulky, broad shoulders. he has wavy brown curls with singular streaks of grey hair and a mostly greyed stubble. his eyes look rather pathetically tear—ready; like one of a kicked puppy with a steak dangling in front of his face, making his face look perpetually melancholic or pouty. wears plastic aviators for style over vision needs. 

SCENT. 

 ───  something notably damp and cold. it's best described has petrichor mixed with fog and wet grass. typically spices his scent up with cologne. 

SCARS. 

─── multiple on his higher arms; all choppy and big and only seeming half—way healed. don't worry kids, they don't hurt and they make some damn good stupid scar stories. recently, he's developed a couple stretch marks. he's not exactly enough to be considered beer—bellied, but is no longer the exact same level of lean he was prior. 

PIERCINGS. 

─── has his lobes pierced and his right eyebrow with snakebites. formerly wanted them removed but never did so. they're both pretty mediocre jobs considering he got them done in a shady place downtown. he jokes that they "at least look pretty damn glamorous!"

TATTOOS. 

─── n/a. 

CLOTHING STYLE. 

─── practical and warm. nothing too special, he prefers jackets and layers despite living in a pretty hot area. dislikes showing skin outside of his hairy man legs and occasionally arms. only ever really goes shirtless if it's to sleep or if it's that damn hot. it IS the summer, after all. 

ACCENT && PRONUNCIATION. 

─── doesn't typically pronounce his g's and typically meshes some words together. says unna' a lot such as gonna, dunno. his i's sound more like aye's..the best example would be him saying "aye'dunno" or "aye'don'anna". . . typically speaks very quickly and somewhat lazily; canonically sounds like dreamworks puss in boots. 

POSITIVE TRAITS. 

───  emotional. determined. gentle. affectionate. somewhat funny.

NEGATIVE TRAITS. 

─── people—pleasing. skittish. vulnerable. impulsive. clingy. pathetic.

OVERALL. 

─── is pathetical, melancholic and romantic the right way to go over things? xote is a man with the soul of a saint bernard convinced he is still a lapdog. the kind of man to cling to you like your his only salvation among a world of wreckage and filth. he can't help it; he's naturally cold and some people are just the brightness and warmth and sunlight he's convinced he'll ever get. a break down perhaps would make sense? 

pathetic ─── oh—so—very—fucking—pathetic ─── is the perfect place to start with xote. he's afraid and cowardly and overwhelmingly stupid at times. this combined with his impulsiveness leads to poorly made choices at times ─── ahem, the biggest mistake he ever made ─── taking place. he's afraid of spending life doing something he dislikes. he's afraid of falling out of love. he's afraid of leaving the damn stove on and finding the house nothing but charred black chunks and an empty slot where he once lived. oh—so—very—afraid of many things he probably has no business worrying about. his fear, infact, usually just makes him jump to conclusions that never existed and make choices NO ONE asked him to make.

melancholic ─── have you seen his face? ─── xote is melancholic. he'll often just lay down next to you and sigh has if he's sisyphus and flop onto the couch, pretending to pass out and rest his head in your lap and watch television with you with those big—fuckin—puppy—dog—eyes of his, a slight pout on his face and an occasional squirm and whine.  like previously said, overgrown lapdog. he's just naturally sad and looks about ready to give up and burrow himself into bed and never wake up. has long has he's got love by his side, he wouldn't mind it. rotting in bed with affection. 

romantic ── he's the kind of guy to serenade you on your birthday in front of everyone with a boombox because he's too broke for a mariachi band ── he's somewhat romantic along that sense. he may not be the best at relationships due to his impulsive nature, but it's a horrible lie to say he doesn't put in an effort. that he doesn't at least TRY to swoon someone. he'll fawn after anyone he's got a crush on in a terribly obvious way, practically skipping and gifting them all sorts of things, shuffling a hand behind his head to instinctively scratch has he makes up the most faux sounding holiday you've ever heard of him? gifting you random little things because you're gorgeous and he loves your voice and your eyes and how you give him a lopsided little smile whenever he gives you a god-damned empanada out of the blue? because he has a CRUSH? impossible! another trait this absolutely crushes with is his determination. just ask his ex; he's been chasing him around town and trying to win him back like a man begging outside of a court room. 

OVERALL, quixote is a somewhat stupid little bundle of traits that make you both love and despise his recklessness. two big, dumb bug—eyes, a heart he's got hanging off threads off his sleeves and a silly mind he tries to keep to himself. 

INTERESTS && HOBBIES. 

── planes ( obviously )

── building models. he has a ton made out of toothpicks. 

── cars, drifting and drag racing in specific. 

── horse tracks. goes to them all the time, but only occasionally bets. 

── carnivals. loves going to them at the pier and stuffing his face. specifically hotdogs. 

HABITS. 

── sucking his teeth.  

── swearing, but specifically shit most of often. 

── putting his hands on his hips like an old woman. 

── scratching his stubble and the back of his head. 

── zoning off. 

── falling asleep in the most unconventional places when tired enough

. 

DETAILED DESCRIPTION. 

── a well—built wolf of dark brown fur and softer brown flecks of fluff around the midsection. it sports a grey muzzle and a snaggle tooth with ears that are always slightly flopped sideways. sports multiple scars at the legs and uneven, thick fur that's patchier near his scarred areas. 

HEIGHT. 

──  five feet on his hind legs. 

WEIGHT. 

── eighty—five pounds. 

EARLY LIFE. 

── from a young age, quixote can remember a vast collection of rich scents. his father's motor oil from the truck he always kept in the garage, his mother's cigarette and the feeling of her lips whispering little lullabys into his ear. sleeping between his parents whenever he had a nightmare. everything was simple and fun; colorful with the smell of wax and filth, but it was all wonderfully familiar. he learned to love it. 

ADOLESCENCE. 

── by the time he turned around twelve, he'd begun realizing  life wasn't has colorful has it'd seemed. his mother, bless her soul, couldn't form a faux smile at her face anymore. she couldn't soothe him to sleep. couldn't tuck him in with an affectionate smile on her face. he came home one day and found the bathroom door locked. his father eventually arrived and refused to let him view the scene, which let him know what he needed to know. his mother was gone. 

── things changed for him quite a lot after that. he grew a bit more quiet and understood the struggles going on within his mother, and how him keeping things to himself would possibly only lead to a similar downfall. by the time he was in highschool, he met the god-damned love of his life. matteo ochoa; someone who put up with his pathetic, doggish outlook and attitude. he loved him with all his terrible flaws, and somehow managed to make him better. sure, school sucked but xote eventually passed with mediocre grades. 

FIRST TRANSFORMATION. 

── a painful shift that began in the school bathroom. naturally, xote fled the area and went back home. his father was busy and inexperienced in guiding him, so he naturally found comfort and safety by burrowing a nest and clinging to teo over the phone. he had a fever for a week and fractured a couple bones, but he eventually did heal. his first time running with the pack at moonlight was one of his favorite memories. 

ADULTHOOD. 

── his interest in vehicles extended to eventually sitting outside of airports and watching the planes go to—and—fro with his head burrowed into teo's side. one of the pilots, finding his daily visits rather interesting, offered to fly him for a couple minutes. a view of coyote city from above. and, with that, a plan was set in motion. move in with matteo, save up for flight academy and eventually become mates. he started taking classes and eventually moved onto flying in people and merchandise for La Dama 

── mateship approached, and xote only got more nervous. what if he fell out of love? what if he was stuck doing something boring the rest of his life, if he hurt teo? he didn't know what to do, and the stress was bubbling within his chest. he'd gotten an offer flying for the u.s. special forces, and it was beginning to seem tempted. he'd always loved flying, and he didn't want to spend the rest of his life flying drugs from mexico to coyote city. so, in a spiral of both confusion and cowardly fear, he left teo a letter and enlisted. . . monthly letters and gifts from every place he'd visited. promises of dedicating the rest of his existence to matteo and his happiness once he was sent back home... little did he know, his darling cinnamon boy had found another love. moved on without ever telling him. sadness and jealousy welled up in his chest, and now? 

he's desperately trying to reclaim him and finish their mating ceremony.