[b]Your Name:[/b] Jess [b]Your Age:[/b] 20 [b]How'd You Find Us?:[/b] Don’t ask.

[b]Full Name:[/b] Jackson Rhodes [b]Nicknames:[/b] - Jax. - Jackie. - Roadie. [b]Date of Birth:[/b] 12th of August 1984. [b]Age:[/b] 26 [b]Gender:[/b] Male [b]Occupation:[/b] street magician. [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Straight switch.

[b]Animal:[/b] Cougar. [b]Power Level:[/b] "Beta" Alpha. [b]Mindset:[/b] Domissive. [b]Rank:[/b] Manabozho.

[b]Animal Appearance:[/b] [IMG]http://cache2.allpostersimages.com/LRG/26/2675/C6EUD00Z.jpg[/IMG][LIST]Jackson’s big for a cougar, just a little over “average” size. Weighing in at 210lbs in cougar form, he’s almost as big as a jaguar, only a lot less muscled, and almost 6’ in length. He’s covered from head to tail tip in dark and thick honey colored fur that keeps him insulated from the cold. [/LIST][URL=http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/Cowboy_Cougar_by_Skitzobits.jpg]Hybrid form[/URL][LIST]Jackson knows about his hybrid form, and even though he rarely uses it, it’s still something in his arsenal should he ever get into a fight and he needs a little more juice. Standing roughly at 6’8 tall and weighing in at 240lbs, the furred cougar-man form is build for speed and combat. He’s got retractable claws that can cut through skin like a knife like butter, and paw like hands and feet, replace human hands and opposable thumbs leaving him in a mess if he needs to open anything fiddly. When he’s in this form, he’s covered from head to toe in dusty gold fur that darkens in patches and things out across his abdomen. [/LIST][b]Human Appearance:[/b] [IMG]http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/taylorkitsch.png[/IMG][LIST]Standing at an even 6 foot tall, Jackson is your average looking bloke. With shoulder length brown hair – that he hasn’t cut since he was twelve! – Which he keeps away from his face by just raking his fingers through it and an almost continuous five o’clock shadow that sometimes, Jackson forgets about and lets it get a little thicker, can almost be described as rugged, and that doesn’t take your fancy, grungy at the very least. The pale tawny skin, stunning hazel eyes, full lips, yep, Jackson knows how to use it all to his advantage and yet he doesn’t. As for his clothing style, Jackson is very laid back into what he wears, though there is a vane streak in him that he always tries to hide behind his temper. He likes to wear suits and won’t admit it, so more often or not, he will settle for clingy dark jeans, dark coloured shirts or t-shirts, often accompanied by a leather jacket for just an open shirt over a t-shirt. With a little bit of practice, he can pull off different styles though. As for jewellery and accessories? He’s not really the type to wear them all the time, but if you count a platinum thumb ring, a wallet chain, and a gold crucifix as fashion accessories, by all means count that as something Maddox will always wear.

He’s got into his fair share of scrapes over the years and that’s given him a nice but small collection of war wounds. The biggest scar that he has is a three inch scar on the inside of his thigh from a bar fight that got out of control when he was human. A couple of inches higher and the broken bottle could have nicked something important. He has a self done tattoo from when he was younger, it’s on the inside of his wrist and all it says is ‘carpe diem’ in small black letters. [/LIST][b]Face Claim:[/b] Taylor Kitsch.

[b]Strengths:[/b] [LIST]• Get's the "job" done at the end of the day. Whatever the task may be. • Listens to people, despite what people say. • Knows when to keep his mouth shut around alphas. Barely. • Fast on his feet in both forms. • Some street smarts. • Working on the fly. • He likes pain, uses it as a focus at times. • He doesn't give into his violent nature easy. • His animal instincts. • He doesn't care if he lives or dies much. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b] [LIST]• Always needs to feed after a shift. • His half and half form takes too much energy and can knock him on his butt for hours after. • He's got a bit of an issue with authority figures. He's working on it! • Silver…it hurts like a…well, you get the picture. • Pain, after all there is a fine line between pain and pleasure. • Attractive females. Point in case with Isabella.   • Children. If one's hurt because of him, he'll kick himself. • Magic tricks. Curiousity and cats...Ya know how that goes. • He has too kind a heart at times and it's gotton him hurt. • His flair for drama at times. [/LIST][b]Likes:[/b] [LIST]• Practising lock picking. He’s yet to find one he can’t unlock. • Gambling for something better to do. • Drinking instead of talking. • Smoking. He smokes more when he's nervous. • Sex. Oh hush your face.   • Tinkering with his truck. • Keeping in contact with the Catamount. • Swimming. • Climbing trees and the like as a cat. • Fish and chips. It beats cooking. • Music over silence. • Magic tricks. • Pissing off idiots to see when they'll snap. • Sleeping the day away when he can. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b] [LIST]• Having nothing to do. • Crowds. He panics a little and stays to the edges. • Having to keep Izzy out of cougar business. • Getting dragged into things that don't concern him. • Football. He's never been a fan of sports really. • Things over his nose and mouth. • RPIT cops! Or any kind of law really. • Uncalled for clan challenges. • Idiots that think they know it all. • Bad sex. Eh...Yeah. • Having no cash. • Morning TV. • Tea. There's just something wrong with it. • People that hurt others for the hell of it. • Sleep! Yeah, he's just a bit odd. [/LIST][b]Personality:[/b][LIST]Jackson isn’t the most trusting of people, preferring to keep his mouth shut at times and eyes open. It isn’t that he’s got nothing to say, he’s got plenty to say, he just doesn’t know how to communicate what he wants to say half the time and it annoys him. It’s a problem, but he’s slowly working through his communication issues. A little jaded and used to getting the short end of the stick, he’s become a good people watcher and likes to take a guess on what people are thinking by simply watching their body language. It doesn’t mean that he’s always right, just a little paranoid. And besides! An attractive face can be his downfall too you know...

I suppose you could say that he’s very loud in his own way. He has a bit of an anger issue sure, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be fun. Jax has a habit of putting himself in tricky situations and mouthing off at the wrong people, and more times than enough, getting his ass kicked. He’s been told that he’s anti social, ok he can roll with that. Still, most of the time Jax uses actions instead of words to get his meaning across and that suits him quite well.

He can be sarcastic, and charming and even violent at times, Rhodes has been known to lash out and think about his actions later. People have questioned his decision making skills before, and he’ll always tell people the same thing, he works on the fly. Jax would rather someone say a silent thank you to him, instead of drawing it out as displaying emotions isn’t one of his strong points and expressing what he wants to say is hard for him. He can do touchy feely well enough but that doesn’t mean anything if there is no feeling in it. To give the sarcastic, slightly flirty male his due, he does have a nasty streak running through him that demands he causes drama some times.

Some things just really annoy him, while he keeps away from people normally; he won’t stand for someone abusing those weaker then themselves, or power. That’s when his protective streak will kick in and he’ll lash out in anger against those that cause the pain and misery. When he lashes out and loses his cool, Jax won’t regret that he did anything, even if he’s punished and humiliated, he’ll take it all with a smirk. Earning his trust and respect is a hard thing to do, but once someone does earn that, there is no way in hell Jax would willingly walk away from them. He’s a survivor and does what he needs to do, he doesn't care what people think of him. There is no better way to describe him. [/LIST][b]History:[/b] [LIST]Jackson Rhodes was born to Linda and Clayton Rhodes, in the city of London, mid April in the year 1984. He was a surprise birth, as the doctors had told his parents from the start of their marriage that Linda could not bear any child in her womb, and being an old money family, they saw every doctor that specialized in that area, no matter the cost. As it was, Jackson came into the world kicking and screaming like any other normal healthy baby.

Growing up the spoilt child, he stoically bared the love of his smothering mother even though she made him want to hurt things. A desperate housewife to the extreme, that’s the easiest way to describe his mother. As for his father, well a workaholic that liked to stay late and make sure everything in the import and export company was running smoothly before coming home and smothering his son almost as much as his mother, well it was an odd childhood. Though from the age of three, Jackson had picked up a liking for magic, and as he grew from a little boy that would hide behind his father’s legs when extended family came to their small estate just outside of London, well into the country that they could have peace, but close enough to the city that they had everything they needed and would be close to work if there was an emergency.

Now many people would have gotten him out there, meeting children his own age, his parents treated him like the boy in the plastic bubble in that respect. Now that was what caused him to rebel against what he knew, he put himself out there, flatly refused to go to any posh school that only taught things that would get people nowhere in real life, instead he opted to go to a normal secondary school with normal children. Rhodes never lost his flair for magic tricks, and would practice them anytime, anywhere, whenever he could. For that alone, people thought he was an oddball (and he is, but we won't go into that here). That simply washed over the young Rhodes, his teachers encouraged him to keep up with something he obviously liked doing, and they had no reason to complain as he was a level student in class. As smart and as clever as young Rhodes was, he didn’t see the day when his father messed up royally loosing the family business to a rival company.

Well it wasn’t the end of the world so to speak, he his friends, his talents, everything would be ok. Yeah, ok Jackson looked at this like any young adult would like their parents were going to split up. He saw it as his fault. His bright innocence turned into something colder, and he accepted it as his grades plummeted and he began to drift away from his friends. For a year, as his antics became erratic, he stopped acting the fool and dropped the magic show that he’d lived in most of his life. Around year ten of secondary school Jackson began to drift around life with a new group of friends. These truant friends taught him new magic tricks, somewhere in him he knew that it was wrong to boost cars and steal from the back of open vans, but he did it anywhere, determined to help his family out of the ever expanding abyss. When he turned up at his father’s study one day with seven grand in cash from his new extracurricular activities that he’d hidden from his parents for nearly three years, his pop hit the roof demanding where Jackson had gotten the cash from.

The little boy in him cringed at the sight of his father so angry, but he didn’t back down from offering the cash even when his mother came in and decided she’d bite his head off too. After a long and boring screaming match, he walked away from them both having tossed the money up in the air and headed to his room. Within fifty minuets, he was walking away from his parents for good with a duffle bag over his shoulder holding things he’d need. The heir to the broken family fortune no longer.

He flat to rent in lower east London, and any idea that walking away from his family had been a rash decision flew the coop as he embraced a seedier nature that his high school friends had began to cultivate, though surprisingly he began to take up magic tricks again, unknowingly needing it as a safety blanket. By the age of twenty one, he was stealing, drinking, smoking, whoring, and oddly enough performing children’s parties, saving what cash he could in various accounts and selling on anything he stole before the cops could poke their noses into any “business” dealings.

That was when he met her, she was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, or rather a cougar in a black velvet mini dress on the hunt for dinner. A sucker for a pretty face, and long legs, the cold Rhodes flirted ignoring his friends as they heckled from somewhere behind the two. Chemistry between them was as clear as day, and both took off back for Jax’ place. The sex was great! He did have doubts when she said she was allergic to latex, but one thing led to another and safe sex was drop kicked out of the window. He didn’t even mind the fact she clawed his back up when he found her and the loose change in his wallet gone the next morning.

His fate was sealed and though he didn’t know it at the time, so life went on. When the next month rolled around sluggishly, he began to feel odd, like something inside him wanted to get out. Putting it down to a bug he’d caught, Rhodes cancelled the three shows he had the following week and locked himself away in his flat, even calling his friends and telling them not to show up unless he called. The night of the full moon rolled around, Jackson went to never, never dream again land, as his body changed into that of a cougar. It’s safe to say he put it down to his body needing to heal and kick out whatever was invading his system, which he had simply slept the time away.

When it happened again, and again, he began, he ignored it, until one day, he passed out in front of a camcorder. He’d been practising a new trick, and had always used some kind of recorder so he could watch himself over again. When he saw a cougar in his place the morning after, he hit the bottle and shrugged it off figuring it was a bad dream…

A bad dream that he’s lived through for just over four years, it forced him to move out of London, and being no good with choosing things, he put a pin in a map, and Bobs your uncle, Fanny’s your aunt, that pin landed on Jackford. He has a few secrets of his own, and he can tell the residents have their own troubles. Though one little leopard has won his attention and he can count on her. [/LIST]

[b]Name:[/b] Jess [b]Age:[/b] 20 [b]Where’d you find us?:[/b] Well there was this impulse you see?

[hr]

[b]Full name:[/b] Christopher  Marsh, he obviously changed his name. [b]Nickname/Alias:[/b] Cris Marsh

[b]Age:[/b] 30 [b]Birth date:[/b] 15th of March 1980 [b]Gender:[/b] Male. [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Straight.

[b]Weapons carried on person (if any):[/b] None that could get him arested these days, just a simply swiss army knife. [b]Occupation:[/b]  Unemployed for the moment.

[b]Animal:[/b] Wererat [b]Power level:[/b] Alpha. [b]Does your character have a hybrid form?:[/b] Yes. [b]Rank:[/b] Captain General [b]Hybrid Form:[/b] [URL=http://arnoldwurzel.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/d_d4th__wererat_by_udoncrew.jpg][LINK][/URL] [b]Face Claim:[/b] Karl Urban [IMG]http://i42.tinypic.com/214w84x.jpg[/IMG] [b]General Appearance:[/b][LIST]Standing at 6 foot, 1 inch, Cris is an imposing sight when he wants to be. Naturally, he slouches a lot, so he looks to be shorter then he really is when in a group of people. He’s muscular and looks as if he’s lifted weights most of his life though he doesn’t have the form of a serial weight lifter, just someone that likes to keep fit. He holds his head high, even with everything he’s done in his life and respects himself for doing things other people couldn’t dream of doing. While Jose is tanned, Cris comes off an oddly pale cream color, even after spending days in the sun he never seems to get darker. At the moment, lower face is covered with scruff that he plans to shave off at some point.

While he may look like a soldier, Marsh has a natural habit of blending in for whatever situation. Most often, he can be found in baggy button up shirts open at the neck or t-shirts, jeans and running shoes. He may look slobbish but that doesn’t mean he is, he can change dramatically when the need calls for it, and has been seen in a suit more times then he’d like to remember. When it comes to what he does best, work, he’ll be found in combat boots, combat pants and a black t-shirt with enough weapons on him to end up in Guantanamo Bay on charges of terrorism. [/LIST][b]Mindset:[/b] Dominant. [b]General Personality:[/b] [LIST]Cris is a talker when the need calls for it, more then enough; he talks for his partner when confronted with someone else. Though that doesn’t mean he can’t drift off into silences that run through days without him uttering a single peep. He’s a watcher, and a doer, that often leaves most of the thinking for Jose. Don’t mistake him for a brute though; he’s got a devious mind behind a smart charming mouth that has worked its wonders on many a person. He almost never over does it with work, and will often tell Jose to stand down when he thinks his friend and brother needs the rest. They’re a solid partnership.

He’s easy going to a point, while Jose plays with knives to keep his reflexes sharp, Cris can be found lounging around with a beer and a book, or simply sitting there enjoying the silence. He isn’t the kind of guy that openly goes out of his way to find trouble or something to do; he simply lets things come to him, whatever those things may be. When someone strikes against him and those closest to him, his mind goes blank and stays that way until he finds something to occupy himself. [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b][LIST] [*] Jose and their friendship/brotherhood. [*] He's got a cool head and doesn’t always jump the gun. [*] Cris can shift at will and control when he shifts outside of a full moon. [*] Shifting into his half form, it takes skill that and can be used as a threat. [*] He doesn’t blink at threats or weapons pointed at him. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b][LIST] [*] Jose and Tonia will always be a core weakness for him. [*]  Someone bringing up his children and wife. [*] Home cooked meals; he mostly lives on take out unless he’s in a creative mood. [*] Multiple shifts cost energy, energy he could need in a fight. [*] Cris does have a rare flare of a temper at times. [/LIST][b]Likes:[/b][LIST] [*] Beer. It’s not the answer he wants but he’ll take it. [*] Working with his hands. [*] Moving around and keeping busy. [*] Sleep when he can get it. [*] Getting back at Jose' pranks. [*] Weapons. He’s slightly OCD with his toys. [*] Driving, more particularly speeding if there’s an open stretch of road. [*] Video games, don’t even ask... [*] The Rodere running smoothly. [*] Threatening idiots. Cris really is more bark than bite though. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b] [LIST] [*] Coffee. Nasty stuff that. [*] Sitting still when he knows there are things to be done. [*] People blaring music in cars. Some people don’t want to hear it. [*] Crowds. He’s fine as long as he stays near the edges. [*] People that talk just for the sound of their own voice. [*] Racists. There’s a time and a place for idiocy. [*] People sitting behind him in cars. [*] People that lie to him and think that they’ll get away with it. [*] When challenges arise in the Rodere. [*] Bad morning television. It has a nasty habit of stealing his soul and attention. [/LIST][b]General History:[/b] [LIST]While he had been born to a rat of a father, and a human mother that had later married his father, Cris was brought up in Rodere life from as long as he could remember. While his father was away a lot, his mother used to make sure he played with the other children and get to know people even if he didn’t want to. The only people that seemed to draw his attention in the Rodere clan were Jose Walker and Tonia Coya, who Cris quickly became friends with. He was the big brother of the three, always trying to protect them even though he knew damn well both of the younger kids could hold their own. At 11 years old, his best friend moved in with his family on a more permanent basis. The Marshes knew that Jose didn’t have a bad home, but since both boys were inseparable, it was considered best by the adults in their lives.

Growing up with Jose as his shadow, they protected Tonia even when she swore blind that she could take care of herself, through school they made sure that anyone that even looked at her wrong knew that they would face a serious talk about the well being of themselves, should they ever shoot their little sister another look. They laid off ‘talking’ to people on her behalf, after they accidently dyed her hair purple because she was going on a date, and she chased them up a tree all night. There were a few times, even after that incident with the hair dye that he had to pull Jose off some poor boys throat, though that was few and far between.

Growing older, their friendship stayed strong and when Tonia had her child, both the ‘brothers’ and their families helped out. At the time, Cris had been married to his high school sweetheart, for two years, with children of his own that he absolutely adored. What changed everything, even though they didn’t know it at the time, was the fact both brothers were going off to enter Special Forces after being infected with the rat lycanthropy virus.

While working, their contact with their family and friends where slim to none, and getting out of the military having served their country should have been a wonderful occasion, they should have been going home to their Clan. Only, they had been in so deep that they received no word of the fact their families and friends had almost been wiped out. What really hurt Cris, was the fact his wife and children had been killed and it took them both days to finally calm down and begin to form a plan that would get them answers.

They started asking around, seeking those that survived and remembering those had had died. On finding out their sister Tonia had survived it, Jose suggested that they track her down and Cris fully agreed that they needed to know everything they could on who had attacked the Clan. So together they both began the trip to Vegas where most of the survivors had said she’d gone too, staying under the radar. It’ll be a trip to remember, since Marsh is at a loss with what to do and knows Jose only wants to help him. When they couldn’t find Tonia in Vegas, they decided that they needed a fresh start. Somewhere new or at least somewhere they hadn’t been in a few years. They settled for going to England, Jackford, naturally. All it was in the end was a matter of sticking a pin in the map for him. [/LIST]

[b]Name:[/b] Jess. [b]Age:[/b] Infinity! [b]How did you find us?:[/b] You know how.

[b]Name:[/b] Zandria Felicia Chance. [b]Nicknames:[/b] [LIST] [*] Alexandria Chance - On her fake ID. [*] Zan. [*] Zandy. [/LIST][b]Age:[/b] 29. [b]Date of Birth:[/b] 20th August, 1982. [b]Gender:[/b] Female. [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Straight. [b]Occupation:[/b] Server at a coffee shop at the moment. Moonlights as an “amateur” vocalist.

[b]Powers:[/b] Nope, she’s got no powers except good old female intuition when people are lying to her. Does that count?  

[b]Face Claim:[/b] Anna Paquin. [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_l6211b3bre1qa7nf2o1_500.jpg[/IMG][LIST]Standing at 5’6” ½ tall; Zandria’s about average sized for a female her age. She’s quiet slim for her age, and while she has the right curves where they’re needed, more so as she weighs in a mere 132lbs. Most of which is toned muscle. Light green hazel eyes look out from behind long brown bangs. Her hair goes down past her shoulders, to rest between her shoulder blades and more times than enough she keeps it tied back. Normally it has a colour running through it. And thus, her fringe is white. It has been red, purple and blonde in the past. It just brings out her pale skin tone out more.

As to what she wears Zandria limits herself to a grungy styled wardrobe. She’s a punk, and it isn’t uncommon for her to go around in shredded jeans, flannel shirts or t-shirts and just complete the look with a pair of Doc Martin boots or sneakers. For short armed shirts and tops, she’ll most likely wear a pair of long gloves and a scarf. She’s not the type to think about what she actually wants to wear and throws on the first thing that comes to mind. The only thing that will make her pause is the prospect of a dress or a skirt. She doesn’t like showing off her legs, bless! While she may look like a hick, she does it with style.

While she may not be that big into fashion, it doesn’t mean that Zandria doesn’t have a few other surprises. These come in the form of scars, tattoos, piercings and birth marks and other assorted visible features that are all Zandria Chance. Ok, so the basics would be a small birth mark on the back of her left calf. Her ears a pierced, one set based at the lobe. She did have her ears pierced twice on her right ear, further up along the shell of her ear. She’s removed the last two small hops however and left them at that.

As far as tattoo’s go, she has two small butterfly tattoos on her right hip bone. Her other tattoo is a full back custom design she got when she was fourteen, [URL=http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EjY286oGjWw/TCRl04-SaWI/AAAAAAAAALM/ZNM2ThLrKSQ/s1600/sexy_tattoo_girl_back_tattoo.jpg]Tattoo.[/URL]. The only jewellery she has on her often is a platinum pendant that Ollie gave her on their first anniversary, and a pair of stud earrings. [/LIST]

[b]Special Skills:[/b] N/A.

[b]Personality:[/b][LIST]Zandria is naturally patient, accepting and slightly curious about things when she should probably not be that curious at all. She’s also very accepting of things. Surprising isn’t it? That a serial killer’s steady girl friend could be so understanding of a world full of  other monsters such as lycanthropes and vampires.

While she may be accepting and kind, Zandi doesn’t trust right off the bat but once you do earn her trust, the girl is loyal to a tee and won’t ever let you down. She isn’t afraid to speak her mind, hell her stubborn streak is a mile long, but put her up against an obvious dominant and she’ll shut right up – though planning revenge in her head is just the same as speaking, no? More fun that way as well.

Of course that doesn’t stop her from getting out there and making a scene if she has to. She’s the type of person that will think things out after the fact for the simple thrill it gives her. Of course trouble making isn’t one of her stronger skills; she leaves that to others and manipulates the situation. There have been cases where she’s just started some chaos, bar fights and the like for fun, but that’s nothing to do with her anger issues.

For someone that manages to piss Zan off; is someone that’s either going to hurt or someone she’s going to ignore from then on in. It takes a lot for someone to provoke a reaction from her, but when it happens, and it has, everyone knows about it in the worst ways possible. If she can catch herself before she blows a gasket then she’ll back off and find somewhere to cool down, if she can’t, well, she’ll make the most of what she’s got. Normally though? Zandria Chance is a down to earth kind of girl that just muddles through life as best she can. [/LIST][b]Likes:[/b][LIST] [*] Fruit tea over coffee. [*] Action movies, where a female is the hero of the hour. [*] Warm weather but cold's alright.   [*] Swimming. It's a good stress reliever, honestly. [*] Singing. With or without a mike, she can spit lyrics. [*] Bar hoping with Oliver. [*] Music....Well, anything but classical. [*] Reading. The best cure for a headache she knows. [*] Exploring new things. She'll give anything a try once. [*] Dancing. Up close and personal. [*] Causing trouble when she's bored. It's more a bad habit than anything. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b] [LIST] [*] Being woken up once she’s managed to get to sleep for anything short of the Apocalypse. [*] Arrogant bossy men that think women are weak willed toys to boss around. [*] Rainy stormy nights. [*] Dry toast. Ew. [*] Bad horror movies. I mean, really? [*] Idiots that don't know how to treat a woman right. [*] Vampires. [*] Being dragged into the centre of attention. She fights her own battles, not others. [*] Perverts trying to cop a feel in bars. [*] The idea she could be a mother. No thanks. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b][LIST] [*] Disorganized when she’s stressed out. [*] Oliver Frost. He’s defiantly a weakness. She can’t say no to him. [*] Her defiant streak. [*] She puts others before herself, even if she’s hurt. [*] She has a small OCD complex when it comes to music. [*] People she knows being used against her. [*] She can be spontaneous at times. Compliments of a short attention span. [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b] [LIST] [*] She knows when to keep her mouth shut [*] Relying on herself. She’s done it all her life. [*] She can say no. Just. [*] Stubborn streak a mile long. [*] Knowing Ollie cares about her, gives her strength. [*] Naturally, she doesn’t take crap from jerks. [*] She’s remarkably accepting once you get to know her [/LIST][b]History:[/b] [LIST]Born in the late summer of 1982 in downtown New York, Zandria Chance was brought into the world screaming with a healthy set of lungs on her. Her mother, Raven, unfortunately didn’t want her, she made that clear every day from then on in, and so her father Michael and her brother older brother Ben raised her from day one. All the while Raven hissed and tried to ignore the fact she’d had a girl instead of another son like she’d wanted, this worried her husband but nothing was ever done about it. After a while the thought of another son was nice for Michael, a daughter was a new experience for the Chance’s and he tried to show his wife that everything was ok. Raven point blankly shut him down and Zandria was never left alone with her mother for that. Ben was the one that made sure mommy didn’t kill her and say it was an accident, because he had a secret that he was to scared too tell anyone else. Mommy didn’t take her pills like she was supposed to.

When Zan’s fifth birthday rolled around, Mike was working in a local club run by mafia cartel situated in Las Vegas. He didn’t even know that he was taking his children to work with him, in a club that was run by extended family that he’d tried to pull away from when he himself had been a teenager. He’d thought he’d managed to do that until the head of the Bradshaw family rolled into town, bringing with them Zandria and Benny’s little cousin, Zephan along with him. You could say that hell froze over to be honest as Mike was called out for his average Joe lifestyle and unwillingly dragged back into the family business. Thus this gave Grace and Raven a chance to meet, and wouldn’t you know it, the two became best friends.

Three weeks later after the Bradshaw’s had left the city and returned to Vegas and a lot of lying and ‘bonding time’ with her children, Raven slit her wrists in the tub of a cheap motel room leaving her husband a note saying how she’d never loved him and the brats could go to hell with him for all she cared. A medical examination uncovered details of Raven’s past that she’d never told anyone buried in her medical records. She’d suffered from a bi polar disorder seen her teen years and as well bouts of postnatal depression. Broken up, the single father returned back to the life he’d tried so desperately not to tangle his kids in, and the one that welcomed him into the fold was none other than Grace Bradshaw.

So Zandria and Benny grew up treading the line between being normal children and being in danger, as their father worked for Jake anything was bound to happen as the mafia boss was a drugs lord and yet wore the front of a respectable businessman in Las Vegas. By the time Benny was seventeen he was already pulling away further and further from that life just like his father had done. By the time Zandria was the same age, Benny was no longer in their lives. Zandria had some pretty big ideas herself and while she loved her Bradshaw cousins, she couldn’t stand it anymore. Her father was barely home for them anymore as it was, and so she took off to start a life on her after stealing enough cash to keep her steady for a few months and the only person she told was the younger Zephan. It broke her heart to leave him in that hell, but she’d had enough.

Why oh why are jocks such dicks? The answer’s simple really. Give them a pretty girl on stage and a beer, and most men become assholes. Having kept on the move for three years, Zandria found her way into a small back dive in San Francisco. Doing a set on stage, she drew in enough money to keep her room at the motel, but she also attracted the attention of a certain broody Frost that had been on the stage before her. Without even thinking about it, she slipped off stage after her set and bought him a beer out of the blue. They made it out to her truck and what came natural…well came natural. When they finally pulled themselves back into the real world a bar fight had broken out into the lot. Truckers mostly, but Ollie dived right in and so did she. The funniest thing was after the fight, they’d grabbed their gear and run from it before the cops had come along to sort everything out; she was oddly comfortable around him. She felt safe. Numbers were exchanged by the time dawn kicked their butts and demanded they crash and burn. When she woke up Oliver was gone. There was no note, no nothing and she passed it off as a one night stand and moved on.

So she got on with her life and found herself a job with a steady income at one of the bars that the local Kiss ran and after a few months made it to bar manager. Bought her apartment with the money too, and was happy for all of five minutes that she didn’t have to pay rent anymore. She was perhaps a little blind to the danger that was around her though, one of the local Master Vampires and her boss, Jacob, had taken a twisted shine to her. When she was working, he would come and threaten people that smiled at her away or give her an extra tip if she was working the bar. Of course she’d huff and puff, protest that he didn’t need to do things like that and all the while stare at his shoulder even though he swore blind that he would never roll her mind without her permission. After a few months of him spinning the same line, Zandria started to believe him. She shouldn’t have done. One evening when the club was particular busy, all hands on deck, Zandria had to get Jacob to sign for an overdue order. With the paperwork in hand, she went to find him, but when she didn’t get an answer after knocking on his office door for a good ten minutes, she brazenly walked in. To find the local fox queen bleeding to death on the couch, Jacob crouched over her in a daze, his face a bloody mask. It was only when Zandria screamed that Jacob turned on her, barrelling into her like a freight train. The next thing she knew she was sinking into what seemed like a sea of blue fire.

The next three weeks is a total blank in her mind and it’s probably just as well. Once she’d been rolled and already bitten, Jacob was content to mark her more and possibly even make her his full fledged human servant instead of a Renfield like he’d originally planned.  What Jacob didn’t foresee, was that the maverick vampire hunter that he had in his lair was connected to Zandria. Ollie had poured his all into trying to snap her out of it while he’d been laid up bleeding and bound down in some kind of underground family crypt. Eventually though, she did come back to herself and the first thing out of her mouth was a colourful curse about dresses of all things. She may not have been in her right might when she’d been wearing it, but Jacob had dressed her up as a slutty bitch with her boobs almost hanging out of the neckline. Oliver promised to kill Jacob, seemed almost as disgusted with the dress like she was, and with that they had a plan.

Of course, they had to bide their time, she was told as he explained that most of the Master vampires had thrown their lot in with Jacob when he’d taken over the city and the ones that hadn’t were either dead or waiting to die locked away in crossed wrapped coffins. They waited three nights, and she’d play her role as Little Miss Renfield and gather the things that Ollie had asked for out of the manor while Jacob would have his fun with him before moving onto someone or something a little less breakable. Somewhere along the line, Ollie had grabbed the key for his cuffs and she’d gotten him exactly what he wanted. A replacement DIY flame thrower and an order to get the hell out of there with anyone out of the coffin room that wanted to live.

That night the manor burnt down and there were four surviving Kiss members that had escaped their coffin, along with herself and Oliver to see the end of it all. The vamps went their way, and she went off with Oliver even though he warned her of what could happen. She’s been travelling with him ever since then and even came with him to the United Kingdom to check out things on this side of the pond. And that’s the story of how the mafia brat fell love with a hunter. Isn’t it sweet? [/LIST]

[b]Name:[/b] Jess. [b]Age:[/b] 20. [b]How did you find us?:[/b] Don't give me that look.

[b]Name:[/b] Formerly Maddox Sinclair, now Maddox Mackenzie. [b]Nicknames:[/b] [LIST] [*] Mads. [*] Dox. [*] Mouthy. [/LIST] [b]Age:[/b] 30. [b]Date of Birth:[/b] 5/3/1982. [b]Gender:[/b] Male. [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Homosexual. [b]Occupation:[/b] Delivery boy for Curious Cafe.

[s][b]Powers:[/b][LIST]He's a Sensitive. That means he can feel the other supernatural beasties unless they’re good at hiding themselves even though he's human. To him it feels like standing near an open furnace if someone’s leaking power, and other times, it’s just a warm breeze against his skin. Push him though, by piling on the pressure, and he’ll pass out from pain and the lack of air. Give him a few hours and he’ll bounce back like any other psychic does. [/LIST][/s]

[b]Animal Species:[/b] Lion. [b]Animal Description: [/b] [IMG]http://cache2.artprintimages.com/lrg/30/3066/8DIDF00Z.jpg[/IMG] [i]Weight:[/i] 380lbs [i]Height at shoulders:[/i] 4 ft. [i]Length:[/i] 9'5 from nose to tail tip. [i]Coat:[/i] Tawny gold. [b]Do you have a hybrid/alpha form?:[/b] Nope. [b]Rank:[/b] Pride. [b]How long has your character been a lycanthrope?:[/b] 2 days. [b]Mindset:[/b] Domissive. [b]Power level:[/b] Omega.

[b]Face Claim:[/b] Trent Ford. [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://i48.tinypic.com/6p1c0j.jpg[/IMG] [i]Height:[/i] 5’11 feet. [i]Weight:[/i] 139lbs. [i]Eyes:[/i] Blue. [i]Hair:[/i] Brown with gold highlights. [i]Build:[/i] Pretty lean, taller then he looks and pretty athletic. [i]Visible marks:[/i] [LIST]Maddox has a Gothic cross between his shoulder blades, two dragons curled around the cross its self staring at each other. The only other tattoo he has is a band of music notes curling around his right bicep. As to scars, he has his share. Most aren't that noticeable. [/LIST][i]Style:[/i] [LIST]He’s the type of guy to wear whatever comes to hand, but mainly, it’s a beat up leather jacket, jeans, scuffed up combat boots and a t-shirt of some kind. He just isn’t a fancy type of fellow. He just makes do with what he has. The one thing, Maddox would put before himself, is the pendant around his throat, he's had it all his life and apparently, it was his mothers. [/LIST][b]Special Skills:[/b] He's a good people watcher and handy with a knife. Nothing really special about that is there?

[b]Personality:[/b][LIST]Maddox is hard to describe personality wise, simply because people hear his smart mouth, and either want to strangle him, or love him. He is the type of person to take anything someone throws at him, and simply lets it wash over his shoulders. Though, he will take every chance he can to put his comments and thoughts into the occasion. While he doesn’t show it, Mad is completely bored with the world. He has been on the streets for over fifteen years, and he’s seen something’s, done things that he wouldn’t wish on any other living soul.

He keeps his pain on quiet shoulders, and would rather get up and do things then sit around and heal. He doesn’t seem to like being still for too long; maybe it’s the fact that he was on the streets like an abandoned house cat. He isn't someone to be messed with, because he has stared down vampires looking for food, and bitch slapped a shape changer for waking him up.

Don’t get him wrong, when Maddox says something it is most likely the truth, whether you want to hear it or not. He sees things in people, and can be the perfect voice of reason. This kid is a mess of contradictions, but all you really need to know, he will stand with those that show him respect. While he won’t admit it, he is bi-sexual, he always has been and it doesn’t bother him as much as it did while growing up. His views on the world are plain, ‘Don’t fuck with me, and I won’t fuck with you’.

When it comes down to Bradon, he has a mean streak a mile thick for anything that so much as pisses his mate off. While Maddox never normally loses his cool, he will blow a fuse if Brad is forced into a position that he doesn’t like. He’s very protective of his mate and can read Mack like a book. The saying “Don’t con a con man” comes to mind. All around though, Sinclair is the light to Bradon’s dark side. [/LIST][b]Likes:[/b][LIST] [*] Cats [*] Having a roof over his head. [*] Pissing people off, that pisses him off. [*] Drinking. [*] Being in control. [*] Drawing. [*] Showers, they are amazing things. [*] Chicken and vegetable pie. [*] Pain, to a small degree. [*] A sleepy Bradon all to himself. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b][LIST] [*] Being tied down, it’s a borderline fear. (Though Brad makes it a hell of a lot different.) [*] Drugs of any kind. [*] Dogs (that aren’t on a leash.) [*] Being woken up by annoying alarm clocks shaped like chickens or cows. [*] Cold eggs. Ew. [*] Idiots. [*] Upsetting Brandon without doing it on purpose. [*] Hospitals. They smell of death. [*] People that try to bully him into doing things they want. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b][LIST] [*] Hot chocolate [*] Brandon, through he won't admit it. Often. [*] Younger homeless kids. [*] He can be too kind for his own good. [*] His smart mouth. [*] His sensitivity at times. [*] He can't read much, just enough to not kill himself. [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b] [LIST] [*] He’s a good people watcher. [*] Bradon! [*] Keeping secrets [*] His smart mouth [*] Making a way in crowded sidewalks. [*] Breaking and entering [*] Lying to people but at the same time, telling them the truth. [/LIST][b]History:[/b][LIST]Maddox has always been in the system, from the day of his birth; he was dutifully removed from his mother’s cold dead arms, and taken away by the child care officer that had brought in the expecting fifteen year old pregnant girl into the hospital only days before. Brought up in the public foster home, he was always looked at by prospective parents, and always, those parents turned away and found another kid that they wanted.

Young as he was, he didn’t care. The foster home, was his home, everything he knew and loved and also hated. He was always bullied by the stronger kids, and at one point, at the age of seven; one of the care workers made it his personal mission, into making Maddox his personal sex toy. It was the world he grew up in, and he grew used to it after two years, even when his career rented him out to his friends under the guise of day trips. By the time he was ten, he was living on the streets, always one step ahead of the law that always wanted him to go back to his abusers.

Over the next couple of years of turning tricks on the street for cash, doing what he knew what to do. Selling himself for money and protection, stealing and the like, just to survive. He met one guy that would change his life though, for better and for worse. A werewolf that became an older brother to him. Maddox began to pull out of the black pit he had thrown himself into, and came into his own eventually thanks to the shifters help.

They where good friends, and then [i]it[/i] happened and everything else fell apart. His street brother was kidnapped, well Maddox, always one to stand by his friends, followed the things that took his buddy away. All the damned way to the big Apple! A city is always the same, and Maddox quickly found out that he couldn’t do a damned thing to help his friend out of the bind he’d gotten himself in with some pretty pissed off vampires. So he settled for the next best thing, keeping an eye on him from a distance and doing what had to be done, to keep the news coming. He’s not proud of what he did, but he wouldn’t take it back.  

He obliviously didn’t do that good a job in the end though, because there was someone that was stalking him. A cop that had a vendetta against his street brother, Bradon Mackenzie. He wasn’t to know that his bro had killed this man’s brother, all he could really see from the moment the shape shifter stormed into his life was that the man was slowly destroying himself. They fought for a few months, but eventually when Bradon gave him the news that his brothers body had been found, Maddox gave up. He just didn’t have it in him to fight any more.

Brad had an opportunity to save them though and the relationship that they had, they relocated to England and away from everything that they knew to start over in Jackford, England. That was like, two years ago now, if not longer and Maddox is just back to his happy self. So he's never met his parents or known a real family, big deal. It's a new life for him, one with the man he loves no less...And a rag tag bunch of werelions.

Almost six years later, Maddox became a married man and infected. Best christmas ever. [/LIST]

[SIZE=1][b]Name:[/b] Jess. [b]Age:[/b] 21. [b]How did you find us?:[/b] In the TARDIS’s swimming pool.

[b]Name:[/b] Drew Shamis.   [b]Nicknames & Aliases:[/b] Drew works as best as anything. Dew at a push. [b]Age:[/b] 27. [b]Date of Birth:[/b] May 11th 1984 [b]Gender:[/b] Male. [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Homosexual. [b]Occupation:[/b] Works at and owns Creature Comforts. [b]Powers:[/b] None.

[b]Face Claim:[/b] Ryan Kwanten. [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://www.blogher.com/files/Jason-sized.jpg[/IMG] [i]Height:[/i] 5’10 [i]Weight:[/i] 150lbs. [i]Eyes:[/i] Brown. [i]Hair:[/i] Dirty blond. [i]Build:[/i] Average. [i]Visible marks:[/i] He has a nasty looking scar circling his right wrist from where wire cut to the bone. Also, Drew has a tribal wolf [URL=http://th09.deviantart.net/fs15/150/f/2007/073/6/9/Tribal_Wolf_Bust_and_Paw_by_KMoongangSR.png]tattoo[/URL] on his right shoulder. [i]Style:[/i] Drew’s not the type to spend money on lots of clothes he’d wear once. So he gets and wears what he’s comfortable in. So jeans, t-shirts, boots. If he has to dress up, he will do but he always feels like a clown when he does. Jewellery isn't something he'd normally wear either. The exception to that rule is a gold crucifix that he's had since he was a kid.

[b]Special Skills:[/b] He's good at working on the fly, if that counts. He’s also pretty handy when it comes to slinging out drunks at the bar. [b]Personality:[/b]   At first glance, Drew’s the type that smiles and tries to be the friendly type of guy. He may not look it or come off it at times but he’s actually a smart one. He just hides it behind his sometimes dumb looks and useless comments. Drew wants people to be comfortable around him so if he can make people laugh and also laugh at himself, he counts that as win. Now he’s not exactly smart-alecky either, Drew knows when to hold his tongue and stop talking. It’s probably something that he’s picked up and harnessed while working at the bar, who knows.

He’s loyal, stubborn and persistent, and not always in that order. Drew will back friends no matter what because that bond means a lot to him. Former friends fall into his loyalty zone, even if they drag him into some kind of trouble. That’s not to say that he’ll let people walk right over him. He’s more than willing to give a little as long as he receives and if someone’s run out their fourth, fifth and sixth second chance with him, he knows when to call it a day and just walk away. While he may go out of his way to help people and be friendly, Drew’s not an attention seeker and won’t willingly search for it and he’s not exactly great when dragged into the spot light either.

Drew’s known love once, and he’s still in love despite having no idea if Eric is alive or dead. He’s held out hope since he was sixteen that Eric is alive though, and where most people would have moved on and found someone else, Drew hasn’t done so. One night stands don’t appeal to him; women at the pub get turned down or distracted by Ja-Mal while Drew can escape into the office out the back. It’s been over ten years, you’d think that he would have done the sensible thing and let things lie, but he hasn’t. Did I mention that stubborn streak?

On matters regarding the supernatural, Drew’s pretty loud. He doesn’t care if a person has fangs, fur, scales or feathers. They’re still human. He’s not about to go out and cause trouble just because he’s breakable. Drew knows for a fact that a lot of things could end his life, and he’s more than likely to end up in a deadly bar fight than eaten by a ‘monster’. And that’s another thing! He hates the word “monster” being used when referring to preternatural people. The only thing that Drew doesn’t tolerate is when someone kicks off in Creature Comforts, he does have human clients to and his ‘baby’ doesn’t need to be seeing none of that nasty Hollywood monster mojo.

Because people see him as a nice guy, they generally get a shock when he snaps. Drew’s not an angry person by nature and it takes a lot to make him so but when he gets angry, he also gets a little angsty and may slightly paranoid. He’s locked himself away in his office for hours before today and had to be dragged out by his best friend because a delivery had been messed up. He doesn’t like being angry, or scared, or any of those pesky negative emotions because then he can’t help but wonder why he tries so hard. [b]Likes:[/b] [LIST] [*] Cherry coke. [*] Playing video games. [*] Canines. Shush your faces. [*] Working so he doesn't have to think. [*] His baby, Creature Comforts. [*] Cooking. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b] [LIST] [*] Thunderstorms and rain. [*] Dealing with drunks at the pub. [*] People demanding he does something. [*] Being stuck indoors. [*] The catholic religion. [*] Doctors, hospitals, anything medical. [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b] [LIST] [*] Understanding and accepting of the supernatural. [*] Knows when to back down in a situation. [*] His stubborn streak. That’s saved his life. [*] Isn’t opposed to listening to others ideas. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b] [LIST] [*] Clowns, borderline fear. [*] Eric. [*] Sometimes he forgets to look after himself. [*] Smokes when he’s stressed. That’ll kill him one day no doubt. [/LIST][b]History:[/b]  

Back in the early summer of 1984, a young mum named Cheyenne gave birth to a bouncing baby boy. There wasn’t much room to celebrate though. Cheyenne had a ‘white boy’ according to her boyfriend at the time, Louis. He was Hispanic in origin; Cheyenne was only half Native American from her mother’s Hopi blood. The boy that she named Drew didn’t look like it at all; in fact he looked more like the beast that had taken her virginity in a brutal attack. Still, she didn’t hold that against her son and even though the colour of skin drove Louis away and left the small family broken, she did her best for almost two years before finally giving up and signing Drew away into the child protections services. She left no trail for Drew to pick up should he ever want to contact her, only a scribbled tribe name on a book store receipt and her cross.

Since he was too little to remember his real parents, Drew grew up in a small town house in the central business district of New Orleans. He hated it with a passion, his sister Anna made his life hell and Amanda and Nickolas his foster parents didn’t even notice, they were so wrapped up in their own respective work lives the majority of the time they barely even noticed their own biological daughter, their foster son was beyond them. It was basically a time where he brought himself up, if he fell down then he picked himself up, if he was hungry, then he made himself something to eat and avoided the family as much as possible by staying out as late as possible or locking himself away. It wasn’t like the bruises from Anna’s ‘lessons’ would have bothered his mom or his dad even if they had seen them when he was around.

By the age of thirteen, nearly fourteen, he’d more or less dropped out of school and spent a lot of his time on the streets avoiding things. He met another kid, just a little older than him called Eric and they started hanging out more and more. By the time he was sixteen, he’d developed a major crush on Eric but he was always scared that the other male would turn him away. He’d seen Eric’s parents once, and they in a roundabout way made Drew glad that he had foster parents even if he did want to deck Eric’s deadbeat dad. It was only a few weeks after getting a glimpse of what Eric’s parents were like that he finally admitted that he had feelings for Eric and got the shock of his life when Eric admitted the same thing.

They had a year together and it was great. Drew would always come up with something new for Eric and Eric would retaliate and surprise him. It was one of the happiest times in Drew’s life and not even his bitchy sister couldn’t ruin for him. Even his foster mom was a little more approachable, especially after she’d stumbled across him and Eric making out. The happiness was short lived though. Eric’s Ulfric caught them out one day along with the pack Bolverk. Ulfric Shane believed that wolves should stay with their own kind and wanted to deal with the ‘embarrassment’ that the boys had become before anyone within Eric’s pack got any bright ideas and tried something funny, so he set the evil doer on Eric to teach him a lesson.

While the wolves fought and tore into each, Drew was held back by Shane. He struggled, it was only natural, and the guy snapped Drew’s arm in two like a twig without even blinking. He was hauled away when Shane thought that he’d got what he wanted. Drew all the while thought that he’d end up as Gator bait or something worse, dinner for Shane. It was perhaps a stroke of luck that a rival pack decided to take over the territory because Shane wasn’t doing what he should’ve been doing. Drew never saw his boyfriend come mate again after that day, the only thing he remembers seeing was his Eric pinned by some shaggy Hollywood monster that smelt of wet dog.

Shane handed Drew off to the Geri and Hati, loyalists that believed in what Shane did. These pair weren’t none too gentle with the teenager either. The Geri threw Drew in the back of a car after clocking him upside the head and that was it. Bye bye Eric, bye bye New Orleans and hello Chicago. He fought against the two wolves, Julian and Warrick. If they thought that he was going to sit back and let them just walk all over him then they had another thing coming. Of course every time he resisted something that they said or did, they hurt him. After awhile it was like he became their pet, he stayed with them for almost three years before they finally let him wander around on his own. The first chance he got, Drew ran as fast as he could and didn’t stop until he collapsed and when he got up he ran some more.

Drew bounced around a lot after that, finding work when and where he could. Sure, he could’ve gone back to New Orleans and tried to find out what had happened. Instead something kept him away from his home. He tried getting a life for himself, and by the time he was twenty five he’d made his way across the pond and settled in the UK, Jackford actually. Instead of sitting on his thumb though, Drew hunted for a purpose and found a rundown family pub that was up for sale because the owner’s wife had passed on because of cancer after pouring her life into the business. Drew snapped the offer up with a promise there’d be a memorial for her. He’s made a good go at things at Creature Comforts since then and still stays somewhat under the radar. Just in case.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][b]Name:[/b] Jess. [b]Age:[/b] 21. [b]How did you find us?:[/b] I didn’t. You found me.

[b]Name:[/b] Ripley York. [b]Nicknames & Aliases:[/b] Rip, Ripper. Yorkie. [b]Age:[/b] 37. [b]Date of Birth:[/b] 12th of April 1975. [b]Gender:[/b] Male. [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Bisexual, though he’s more comfortable with males. [b]Occupation:[/b] Works in a bookshop in town.

[b]Animal Species:[/b] Spotted Hyena. [b]Animal Description: [/b] [IMG]http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/app%20pics/spotted-hyena_1.jpg[/IMG] He’s your typical spotted hyena. Standing at 3’1 at the shoulders and from snout to rump, he’s 5’5. Ripley’s not very heavy though, only weighing in at 130lbs at large. His coat’s a lot softer then it looks, though don’t get any bright ideas and try petting without asking because his strong bite is worse than his bark. [b]Do you have a hybrid/alpha form?:[/b] Nope. [b]Rank:[/b] Rogue. Will join if the group returns.   [b]How long has your character been a lycanthrope?:[/b] 16 years. (Infected at age 18.) [b]Mindset:[/b] Both. [b]Power level:[/b] Beta.

[b]Face Claim:[/b] Matthias Streitwieser. [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/app%20pics/2e2j6md.jpg[/IMG] [i]Height:[/i] 6’2 [i]Weight:[/i] 178lbs. [i]Eyes:[/i] Blue. [i]Hair:[/i] Brown. [i]Build:[/i] Average, muscled in all the right places. [i]Visible marks:[/i] He has a small black star on the inside of his right wrist, and the Chinese characters for ‘Ruby’ at the nape of his neck. Ripley also has faint bite marks along his neck and wrists that you can't really see unless you're looking close. [i]Style:[/i] Jeans, t-shirts and a thrown over jacket. Anything comfortable and practical is best. He will wear suits if he has to do so.

[b]Special Skills:[/b]  [LIST] [*] He does know Greek and Spanish, and he’ll remember how to speak it in his own time. [*] He does know how to hold his own in a fight thanks to AJ helping him out. [/LIST][b]Personality:[/b]   Ripley’s quiet and laid back most of the time. He’s been trained to value manners so you’ll rarely hear him forget them. He’s also been known to lapse into old tricks, where he won’t speak until he’s spoken to. If someone that’s a clear alpha or Master speaks to him, he will rarely look them in the eye unless they say he can do so and it’s little things like that that make things bearable for him. The last thing that he wants is someone to rip out his throat for something he didn’t even mean to do. On saying that, that doesn’t mean he’s completely submissive when it comes to those with more power than he has. Ripley has a deep rebellious and stubborn streak that shows its face at times, mostly when he’s in a sticky situation.

Some may even say that he gets mouthy and sarcastic when this streak of his rises to the surfaces, but Ripley hasn’t honestly noticed anything different except when people give him odd looks. When he’s around people that are younger than him in power, Ripley’s a little more open about things. He likes to laugh and joke around and even though he doesn’t out right say it, he’s the type of person that will give others another chance even though they’ve burned him in the past. Trust is something special to him, There’s only a couple of people that have his trust however, at times when he’s in pain or upset, he even closes down on them to protect himself. Maybe he doesn’t open up fully, but that still doesn’t stop him from being unspeakably loyal to the people that do him a good turn.  

What people don’t know is, and what Ripley doesn’t remember is that he’s got a bad side. He won’t hesitate to do something if an orders given, if that means attacking someone and drawing blood, so be it. Sometimes an order doesn’t have to be given, he’ll go on the defensive if he has to, and the offensive if he needs to, to protect himself and those around him. It’ll hurt him, sure, but half the time he doesn’t even register that pain. He doesn’t like seeing people in pain, but it’s a trigger that’s so deeply rooted in his subconscious that he jumps before he really thinks. Another thing that hasn’t shown itself is that he’s addicted to a vampires bite, craves it and has for over twelve years, will do anything to get the fix. No doubt it will show, but for now, Ripley’s just a mite emotionally retarded and no one’s complained so who knows what trouble he’ll get into.

[b]Likes:[/b] [LIST] [*] Curling up with a good book when it’s raining. [*] Being bitten by a vampire. [*] Cooking. He’s a natural in the kitchen surprisingly. [*] Being stroked in his hyena form. [*] Watching a movie when he can’t sleep. [*] Exploring Jackford when he’s not working. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b] [LIST] [*] When he can’t sleep because of tension headaches. [*] Drama. He can do without it. [*] Others shedding blood for no reason. [*] When he’s reprimanded. [*] Loud annoying music. [*] When he’s talked over by people but he won’t say anything. [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b] [LIST] [*] He knows when to keep his mouth shut and eyes on the floor. [*] Can follow orders to the letter. [*] Doesn’t let how much pain he’s in show. If he’s in pain. [*] Good at giving people a shoulder to cry on if they need it. [*] He’s got all your standard shifting abilities. [*] Keeping his inner hyena on a short leash and away from others. [*] Giving people what they want to hear most of the time. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b] [LIST] [*] Won’t hesitate to put himself in the line of fire for someone else. [*] Doesn’t have an alpha form. [*] Can’t repeatedly shift repeatedly in one day, the most is five times back and forth. [*] He’s a bite addict. [*] Silver. [*] Hasn’t even known a true cackle. [*] Doesn’t always tell people when things are bothering him. [/LIST][b]Family:[/b][LIST] [*] Manuel Lagana; Father, died in an RTA. [*] Lucinda York; Mother, died in an RTA. [*] Dominga Lagana; Grandmother, died of natural causes. [/LIST][b]History:[/b]  

During April of 1975, one man’s life came crumbling down around his ears because of a drunken one night stand with his best friend’s younger – and underage, at the time that things got hot and heavy in the bathroom – sister. Manuel came home one evening to find Lucinda on the couch, screaming and hollering as his mother and uncle scurried around trying to stop the baby that was coming one month early. One call was all it took when his common sense kicked in at the sight of the blood, to get Lucinda to the hospital and the help the teenager deserved. Despite the few complications with the birth and the consequences that followed, the baby now named Ripley, was allowed to come home just a little over a month later with Dominga Lagana – the baby’s biological grandmother on Manuel’s side – as the legal guardian, Manny and Lucinda being more babysitters than parents.

Growing up in Leeds; Ripley felt at home in the urban wilderness and it was the only thing that he knew. Lucinda always told him that she was his mum, he believed her, and he’d seen the pictures on Dominga’s albums. What he didn’t get though was why the York’s didn’t approve. They made it known that he wasn’t wanted when Lucinda had to take him along when she went to see her brothers or parents place. In the end, the strain that Lucinda was under, forced her to dump Ripley on Manuel and Dominga more and more, much to his Grandmother’s delight. She didn’t like the prissy little white girl or the judgmental patronising parents that sneered and crossed the street when they were walking the same way as them.  The tension lasted for almost three years and everyone suffered for it, Manuel tried to patch things up and show to Lucinda’s parents that he wasn’t trash and Lucinda tried to show her parents that she wasn’t a child anymore and could look after herself, it was a bit redundant really, Ripley’s mum was twenty and legally an adult capable of looking after the five year old boy with Manuel who was twenty nine at the time. Dominga didn’t like that one bit but there wasn’t much that she could do at the time but sit back and make sure they didn’t kill Ripley by mistake by giving the kid drain cleaner or something instead of milk over his cornflakes in the morning.

Even school wasn’t a big thing in Ripley’s eyes; he was in and out of it for a lot of reasons. The majority of the time though, was for medical reasons; sometimes he wasn’t there because of life at home. By the time he was fourteen years old, he’d been permanently excused from physical education due to his poor health, expelled from two schools and facing being kicked out for the third time because of his slipping grades and general attitude to authority figures in his life. Lucinda even went as far as to send him to see a therapist because of these things and it just sent Ripley spiralling down a path of rebellion and hate to for the world around him. In fact, the only time he really seemed at peace was when he was with Granny Dominga’s dogs and the old gal used that to her advantage. He didn’t go to college, there was no point. Education wasn’t really something he’d excelled at and he didn’t want to stay at home for the rest of his life, so when Granny Dominga offered him a place to stay and work in her small greasy spoon cafe, he snapped it up and moved in with her. It really wasn’t that exciting afterwards; he lived with his Gran and saw his mum and dad every other day when they stopped by after their shifts at work. Basically, it was a rinse and repeat life and that suited him fine.

Fine, until just after his eighteenth birthday. His parents had ‘kidnapped’ him away for the day to have some good old fashioned bonding time; the truck that hit them came out of nowhere. One minute Ripley had been groaning about Britney Spears on the radio and the next there was chaos and the world was spinning as the car was pushed off the motorway and then there was simply silence. Lucinda and Manuel had been pronounced dead upon arrival at the hospital and Ripley was rushed into surgery for multiple internal injuries and head trauma.  He didn’t even know that his parents had died until he came around a couple of days later, and he’d had to plead with his Gran to find out what had happened to them. It was a shock, something that shocked him to his core because no matter how much of a brat he’d been to them growing up, he’d still loved them.

No one bothered to inform him, that the blood that had been used during one of several transfusions had been contaminated with lycanthropy. Maybe no one knew, but that was the hand that he was dealt. It probably would have been better if he’d know though, while he was healing up, because the following full moon after a particular nasty bought of the flu – or at least what he thought was the flu, little did he know that his body was changing and if he had, he’d have probably mad a joke about puberty hitting twice. – Ripley was locking up the cafe for the night and the hyena made itself known. It ripped its way out of him and destroyed the cafe when it found there was nothing to eat. The morning, once the animal had gone back, Ripley woke up in the remains of the cafe, sore and confused but feeling better than he had done in weeks, didn’t have a clue that he’d turned into a hyena though. When Dominga demanded to know what had happened, he told her that someone had broken in and trashed the place and that it had probably been a junkie looking for a fix.

The following weeks became a blur, more rinsing and repeating until one evening he felt an unmistakeable pull to just leave work. Just like that. There was no warning, no nothing. He just felt the need to go. He walked across the city to some seedy back alley dive that was home to all the drunken scum of the nation, or well, the city if you wanted to be technical. Defiantly not his place, and from the few others that were milling about that he noticed didn’t fit in, not theirs either. He found out exactly what was up though when they came in, lanky crew, pale, avoided mirrors and standing directly under lights, looked like the supporting act for the guys that did the YMCA. For a moment Ripley had thought that he was being set up by his friends, because bikers with fangs? Really? It was so wrong. So out there, so unnatural, and yet so normal all at the same time, and it just made Rip curious and scared for what was happening next. The crazy red headed chick in the corner that was cackling and stroking a flipping big hyena was even more out there and put the fear of God into him.

Ripley York never came home that day and wasn’t seen by his Gran again.

He was dragged down to Cardiff with the vampires and the red headed bint with a few of the other guys that had ended up in the bar with him. Mistress Ruby – the self proclaimed Queen of the merry little band – told them what was happening, how he’d service the vampires just like the others that had come to her call. Ripley refused and started mouthing off, and so he was punished. Ruby ripped his inner beast out repeatedly before forcing it back over the space of three days. Then Theodore – the king of the band, a big guy that could’ve snapped Ripley over his thigh for disobedience – decided that that wasn’t enough and decided he wanted a taste, and a taste he got and then some. Just like the rest of the rogue band that called the Hyena Queen and Vampire Master their leader because to them, Ripley and the hyenas that had been Called where nothing but animals meant to be used in anyway their Masters saw fit. Theodore didn’t just have hyenas at his beck and call, there were other shifters as well that were pets to the thirteen vampires that he ruled, while he was a rotting vampire, there were Belle Morte rogues and fear masters and beast masters to boot and each and every one of them where young enough to be a power to be reckoned with and still hate the way that the vampire council did things.

Over the next twelve years, between Ruby and Theodore the young hyena started to lose himself. The rebellion and need to fight what was happening to him died, painfully and slowly, but it did die. Gone were the days he had to go around wearing a collar and on the end of a leash and had to be escorted by one of Ruby’s older and more treasured pets. He was no longer handcuffed to the bed of some two-bit vampire Rogue. He was allowed to come and go as he pleased, because they had something he needed, something he craved so badly that he broke out into cold sweats, shakes and shivers. He craved them. Needed them just like the air he breathed some nights that he would go down on his knees and beg to be bitten. It wasn’t always easy either; Ripley would have to do things that he didn’t want to do but did it anyway. Mistress Ruby explained it one time when she’d been waiting for Theodore to wake, she told him that it was them simply asking for a favour because they’d given him a gift.  

That wasn’t to say that it was all doom and gloom, despite his current situation, Ripley made friends. One such friend was Sissy. It wasn’t exactly a fun evening for the both of them. Ruby and Theo’s second in command dragged him along to a local tattoo parlour that had a decent reputation in the inked circles. The Mistress wanted something new and exciting, and the vampire and Rip were only sent along as bodyguards for the crazy bitch. Ripley wouldn’t have done anything if the beast master male hadn’t taken a shine to the girl, oh he’d seen her, she’d been chatting with an artist or something, but the vampire took an instant dislike to her for some reason. The artist was rolled, mentally told to forget that they’d ever existed as the vampire went after Sissy. Ripley was left with Ruby and boy, did he want to help the girl.

The moment blood was drawn; he had an idea and turned to the bitch queen that had sat giggling the whole time. He bargained for her safety, offering Ruby anything she wanted in return. Liking that idea, Ruby pulled the beast master off the red headed girl, and after checking on Sissy to make sure that she was ok, Ripley turned to get what was coming his way. All she asked was that he get a tattoo of her choice in return for the girls life and safety, Ripley didn’t even question it and let the Mistress do what she wanted, sat through the rolled tattoo artist branding him with the Chinese characters for ‘Ruby’ at the nape of his neck, after his Mistress and the beast master got theirs. Theodore never noticed that his servant and queen had left her permanent mark on another man,  if he had then they would have destroyed the parlour, killed Sissy and the artist that had done their work, instead they stayed in town, the vampires and shifters coming and going as they got new ink and Ripley got to know Sissy a bit more.

Eventually the group moved on to a place called Jackford at the back end of 2010; they rolled into town and found that there was so much chaos they could create. They didn’t have to do anything; there was no time because Ruby, during a Christmas shopping break, was smacked down by a blonde harpy. The Oba of Jackford didn’t like another in her territory and she made that clear when she drew first blood, Ripley had grinned at that, seeing the scarlet streaks down on freckled cheek. Ruby didn’t have time to defend herself, and even if she had, Theo was the ruler and he declared no one was to help and Ruby was furious. She gave it all she had, but on her own with no vampires or hyenas to help her, Petra Graves whooped her skanky ass fair and square then told the rest of the mob to take Ruby and leave her town. Theodore was fairly reasonable, as an Old World gentleman at heart, he agreed and they made plans to leave though he requested a little time from Petra because it was Christmas. His logic being that it would be their first proper Christmas together and sadly, Petra agreed.

Over the next three months, the rogue band drifted apart. There’d been moments when Ripley had wondered if he could just slip away and make a run for the Kiss that had been reconstructing itself from the ground up. However he didn’t have to. In February, one of Ruby’s other pets made a big fuss about not being marked in front of Theodore of all creatures. Ruby, desperate to shut the idiot up, snapped his neck but it was too late for that. Theo had heard enough and dragged Ripley close to check and sure enough, the Master saw the tattoo was there. Theodore crushed Ripley’s throat and tossed him aside like trash to die in the gutter, before dragging his whore-queen off to deal with her. The two hyenas bodies where left in a semi completed housing estate, but that wasn’t the end of them, nobodies in a sea of silence.

Ripley should have died, except he didn’t. The male had no idea what had happened but one moment he was choking and struggling for air that wasn’t there and then the next it was daylight and he was blinking up at the faces of two werewolves that called the Fun House home. One of the wolves, Eric, had ripped Ripley’s inner beast out to try and save him and it had worked, mostly. As a result from the event, Rip didn’t know what had happened, who they where, where he was. Nothing at all except his name, and the flashes that he gets sometimes when he’s stressed, he hasn’t spoken of them to anyone at all. So here he is, in Jackford, a ward of the kiss and still a nobody.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][b]Name:[/b] Jess. [b]Age:[/b] Old enough that I'm getting tired of answering this. [b]How did you find us?:[/b] I took a trip into Hell and found you.

[b]Name:[/b] Lazarus Donovan [b]Nicknames & Aliases:[/b] Laz will do. [b]Age:[/b] 40. Though he looks 35. [b]Date of Birth:[/b] May 28th 1971. [b]Gender:[/b] Male. [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Questionable. [b]Occupation:[/b] Jack of all trades, that, and he's Twist's hound.

[b]Animal Species:[/b] WereDog. [b]Animal Description: [/b] [IMG]http://breederinfocenter.com/images2/20061111213659_074529_1.jpg[/IMG][LIST]For a supposed medium sized breed of dog, Lazarus’ canine half is actually quite big compared to some dogs and still not the biggest mutt on the block. He stands at 26 inches at the withers, and weighs in at 90lbs of streamlined muscle that can make some humans cringe in fear. From the tip of his nose to the tip of his tail; he’s 5 feet and 4 inches so it’s easy to get scared. He’s not a long coated German shepherd dog at all, though the thick black and tan fur would make you think so. Screw your pure blacks and your pure white variations; he loves his dog form the way it is. It makes it easier to blend in with some working dogs as the breed is generally used for labour. [/LIST][b]Do you have a hybrid/alpha form?:[/b] [URL=http://browse.deviantart.com/?q=Weredog&order=9&offset=96#/d2lw0fb]Scooby Snack? Yeah!... You idiot.[/URL][LIST]Of course he has an alpha form; it was practically beaten into him. Standing roughly at 6’11, and weighing in at 250lbs, Lazarus isn’t that much bigger in this form. Of course he’s a bit menacing but that’s a good thing – so he thinks – and isn’t something that anyone should want to meet in a dark alley in the middle of the night. Laz retains his black and tan markings in this form, though his fur is only a little thinner in this form then his full dog form. He looks like he’s a dog that can walk quiet comfortable on his hind legs really, with cone like ears, a muzzle packed full of fangs and hands with curved claws and a brush like tail. [/LIST][b]Rank:[/b] Rogue. [b]How long has your character been a lycanthrope?:[/b] All his life. [b]Mindset:[/b] Dominant. [b]Power level:[/b] Beta by choice (hides his alpha status).

[b]Face Claim:[/b] Josh Holloway. [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/app%20pics/600full-josh-holloway.png[/IMG][LIST]Lazarus is 6’1 inches tall in his human form; he’s pretty average in the height department which is fine with him. He’s your average kind of guy in all honesty, he’s used to hard graft so he’s pretty toned, Lazarus only weighs in at a simply 200lbs even if he doesn’t look like it, and most of the weight’s packed away in muscles. With pale green eyes that darken considerably when he’s angry, the shaggy cut of dirty blond hair, and dusting of stubble finish off his rugged look quite nicely. Some day’s he clips his hair back, sometimes he forgets to shave. It’s not something he really pays attention to.

Does a sense of style matter, really? Well if you insist on it. Laz doesn’t like clothes and he doesn’t exactly hate them either. He’d be much more comfortable lounging about in a pair of jeans and a loose shirt than a suit – though that doesn’t mean he doesn’t look smart when he dresses up! He just needs to be poked and prodded hard to do so -, so his style doesn’t differ from torn and shredded jeans, open dress shirts and t-shirts and a pair of boots. Jewellery and tattoos now eh? Well he does wear the odd pendant or handmade wrist band. It’s just a matter of practicality most days. [/LIST][b]Special Skills:[/b][LIST]Gee, you mean all those street smarts have gone for nothing? Shame. Other than that, he's good staying under the radar as a dog. Also, this is pretty important becuase not everyone can be as cool as he is. He’s a full blown animal servant, meaning that from the first mark he became less breakable and susceptible to vampire mind tricks. From the second mark, gave Mordichai the ability to draw power from him and taste food and drink through Lazarus. The third mark gave them both the ability to communicate telepathically with each other but only when his Master is awake. The forth mark gave him immortality by drinking his masters blood, better mental stabilisation/communication with his master and the ability to draw on Mordichai’s strength. Oh the perks of his job! [/LIST][b]Personality:[/b][LIST]Lazarusarus is a firm believer in ‘survival of the fittest’, that being said, he’s got a sort of soft spot for weaker dogs. He won’t actively help them, but he will keep other folks from breaking people even more if he can see that the ‘underdog’ can pull themselves through whatever task it is. What can I say? He likes a challenge and if he sees one, he’ll prod at it but, he’ll likely lose interest and go about his business after awhile. Idiots have little appeal to him. He’s a smart man, intelligent so he won’t rush into things from the word go. He’ll exploit weaknesses that he can find for his (and the his Master’s) own benefit if he can, and if he can’t, he knows when to cut his losses. Sure Lazarus can charm people, smile and joke around, he can also be cocky and egotistical at times, and closed off as well at times.

He loved once, or lusted, he doesn’t know what it was but he thinks its love. Oh sure he’ll deny it if he’s ever asked, but he knows the truth. He won’t open himself up fully to another person again, unless he can help it. Does that mean he’s looking for someone to open up to? Heck no. He’s just going to keep himself apart from people and still be around them. Trust issues is probably what you’d call it, actually, it’s what he’d call it to. The woman that stole his heart earned his trust, but when she left, that hurt him. So, he’s made it a personal mission in life to just not care what people think about him, and as long as they make no trouble that he has to fix, he doesn’t care what people do.

A common thing with Lazarus is, until you can prove yourself to him, you get a nickname. You can bitch and moan and demand that he use your real name, but he’ll stubbornly start making said nicknames worse. It doesn’t mean anything to him really, but dog’s minds are different in some respects. Scents and actions are easier for him to remember then names are. The only acceptation to this rule are the dominants to this dog, he’ll go out of his way to remember their names.

Donovan won’t take an insult lying down; to him that’s like losing an ear or something close to death. Making him sit out of things will make him whine and pout like a toddler deprived of sugar. He may or may not voice his complaints but to people that know him; you’d be able to tell by the tension in the man’s shoulders and the snarky attitude. It’s sort of the same way when he knows he has to submit to someone but doesn’t really want to. He may think he’s bigger and stronger, but if he’s forced into a position that makes him back down, he does it with as little snark as possible and takes off to the pub afterwards, or in the worst case scenario, takes a pocket knife to the inside of his arms to release the tension he feels. He hasn't cut for a long time, since before he was in love even, but it was an old habit and you know how they die don't you?

Lazarus doesn’t think of himself as mad, not in the conventional sense of the term. So he can kill without hesitating, it’s the predator in him, not the human. That and the fact that any good cat is a dead cat, was beaten into him when he was growing up. He’s not afraid to do what must be done to protect what’s his, if it means submitting to someone to get something he wants, he’ll do it. Practicality really when you think about it is something any animal knows. A weakness could get him killed, and he certainly doesn’t want that. He’s not afraid to bleed for a good cause either believe it or not, if a show needs to be put on, he’ll put his name forward and that will be that. Someone called him masochist when he was younger, so maybe that is true.

Marked by the Master vampire, Mordichai, hasn’t changed him much at all. Red (Violent Man) is someone he can relate to in some ways, and he’s pretty fond of that personality when he’s not being a prick trying to scare everyone. Blue (Business Man) is the side that draws out Laz’s more controlled side. He cares when Blue is around. Mordichai’s well being is one that Laz puts before his own. He’ll stop Red at a cost to him if he has to, distracted Blue and anything else that needs doing. The vampire is his master and owner, mind, body and soul. [/LIST][b]Likes:[/b][LIST] [*] Carving figurines and sketching. [*] Reading when he's alone. [*] Playing with his tennis ball when he's in his dog form. [*] When Mordichai isn't bugged by Kiss vampires. [*] Chasing cats in dog form. [*] Sleeping in occasionally. [*] Mordichai's attention. [*] Quiet nights at the Raven. [*] Walking instead of getting in a car or on a bus. [*] A challenge in any form. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b][LIST] [*] Having to suffer idiots on a regular basis. [*] Mordichai's disappointment. [*] Losing his ball. The last time it was under the couch. [*] Kiss vampires poking their noses in where they're not wanted. [*] Humans thinking that they're all that when they aren't. [*] Drunks in the club. [*] Being around other were-dogs for a long time without a reason. [*] A bad horror movie. [*] Rainy nights. [*] Not being able to find someone for Red to kill. [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b][LIST] [*] Repetitive shifting with little fuss and bother. [*] Doesn't mind being Red's puppet. [*] Partial shifting. [*] Marked all four times. [*] Keeps his eyes and his ears open for anything useful. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b][LIST] [*] Not catching the change in Mordichai's moods. [*] He's too curious at times. [*] Silver still burns, even if he's a born shapeshifter. [*] He has a bit of a sweet tooth. [*] Won't ever allow his master to hurt a woman under 18. [/LIST][b]History:[/b][LIST]Born back in the cold July of 1971, Lazarus Donovan was pushed into the world by a teenage mother named Aileen in a back alley in East Cork, Ireland. Aileen should’ve told her parents, she should’ve done a lot of things to ensure that the baby would be safe and sound but she didn’t. Instead, she’d hidden it until one day she couldn’t hide any longer, just like she hid that she could shapeshift. Unprepared for everything, the youngster dumped the baby the first she could find that would offer the babe some chance of survival, in the ambulance bay of the CMC (Cork Medical Centre) before fleeing and never looking back. The father was never notified, Aileen didn’t even know his name, didn’t even care about that dog.

The baby was stumbled upon by a human nun of all creatures. The human sister found Lazarus tucked away out of the worst of the cold weather, and heartbroken for the little mite, Sister Magdalena brought him inside to get checked over by one of the clinic doctors. There looked like there was no option for Laz at the time, declared fine by the doctor, the Sister had no choice but to contact the Priest that resided over the parish and go through the appropriate channels to get the baby into a loving home. For some reason Magdalena was protective of the whelp, she wanted to take him home with her and raise him as her own son, but she did not. The only thing she could give him was a name, and that was Lazarus. Lazarus’s earliest childhood memory is that of mean and spiteful nuns with bony fingers prodding and poking. Magda may have given him a name, but she had no say in where he went after she gave him up. During his earlier days in Cork, Lazarus knew one human family in the space of three years. The Donovan’s didn’t have him long, they didn’t even get to call him son and he didn’t get the chance to recognize them as parents before Mrs Donovan’s husband died in a car accident and his ‘mother’ put him back into care before moving to England. Not understanding what was happening around him, the wee lad just carried on like any normal child would.

Bounced around allot over the next few years from home to home and foster group to foster group, Laz finally hit a wall. He’d always know that he was different someway, but he didn’t know how different until one day he was kicking a football around in the park on his own and the next, he was a dog. A bloody big dog too, in his thirteen year old mind. It was his thirteen year old mind that passed it off as a dream the first time, and the second time it happened without his control, but everything fell apart when he hit fifteen. Laz was with his foster sister, Olivia. She was a great girl, pure human and also a strict catholic just like her parents. When she saw him shift, at first it was fun and games, but then she began to grow wary, thinking he was the devils hound and that her brother was unclean. When he shifted back, despite what he said and did, she began to panic and ran home leaving Laz to watch her go.

He could’ve followed, he wanted to, but he didn’t. Instead he shifted and went the other way, running for days and days until his paws bled and he couldn’t go any further. He stuck to the minor roads, out of the way, and never once went near humans. They didn’t understand him, he didn’t even understand himself. Eventually he found himself in Dublin, and he still hadn’t shifted. He wanted to be a dog, to forget the look of horror on Olivia’s face. That didn’t last though, it was perfectly logical for the youngster to want to hide and forget everything that was happening, but it just wasn’t meant to be as he found out a year later. Tearaway teenager Mary found him, scavenging on some scrubland that was passing itself off as a parkway. She coaxed him out with food, and he went to her. A year as a dog is a rough time, Laz had lost weight, forgot a lot of things, almost forgot how to shift back. Once the food was gone, so was he for a few days and they played this cat and mouse game for days, until finally Laz decided to stop running away. She’d proven she wasn’t going to hurt him, and he’d had a lot of time to think about things and what he wanted to do.

Eventually, he found his way back to human form. He had learnt a lot, noticed a lot too. Humans weren’t the only things out there. It was probably what brought him back into the world of the living, but with no money or place to stay, the teenager had to do what was necessary to get going. He stole, lied and cheated his way through the supposed conmen and women stalking Dublin’s shady alleys over the next few years. When he managed to get a place to stay for himself and wasn’t reduced to squatting as a dog, Laz found a job in one of the bars. He always kept an eye on Mary, she knew him as a dog, she didn’t know him as a human though and it was one of those things that he wanted to change. Ok, so he supposed he stalked her for a little while, in a platonic kind of way. It was hard at the time to get his emotions straight between human and canine. The pub he worked in was her regular, and he saw her every night coming and going with strangers. Eventually summoned up the courage to talk to her and she blew him off. Obviously, he’d said something wrong but Laz couldn’t work out what it was, pushing twenty one, he really didn’t need the aggravation of dealing with a woman when he was trying to be normal.

Over the next fourteen years Lazarus made a name for himself. He never had a stable partner; he worked and charmed the people around him. Did good things for the people he considered friends and eventually ended up buying the lease for the pub he worked in. The Kings Head became his little kingdom, a place he could control and do with what he wanted as the world changed outside the front door. The biggest thing that happened in his little life was that the supernatural came out of the closet in the late nineties. However in 2006, the supernatural world was very much a part of day to day life for the thirty five year old hound dog, Laz. He often spent time around other shapeshifters and vampires, he just enjoyed their company and that’s when everything turned upside down. A bar fight broke out, some angry vampire that had stopped in to get out of the rain had been assaulted by humans, two from the local church. More religious fanatics than anything else, they’d had that type in the pub before and they’d always punted them out on their backsides. It was complicated and Laz only remembers a little, just stepping in between a priest and the vampire, a blade punching into his side rather than the vampires. He didn’t even know why he did it; it just felt right to him, like he needed to be there. How was he supposed to know that he’d sparked the vampire’s curiosity with one act? Mordichai dispatched the rest of the rabble that was there, it was bloody and violent and by the end of the night the Kings Head was burning down. Laz didn’t care, the knife had done some serious damage that his body was struggling to heal and he was pretty much out of it.

He was dragged back to a house that Mordichai had rented while he was in the city, the vampire poked and prodded at him and Lazarus did the same back. He quickly found out that the vampire wasn’t just one person but three and he came up with names for each personality. Red, Blue and Mordichai. He must’ve done something right because in the last five years, he’s not wandered away from the vampire – actually, scratch that, he wouldn’t leave the vampire he called master – and his master hasn’t killed him. Supposedly, if Mordichai wanted him dead, then Red put his foot down on that buy giving Lazarus the marks of an animal servant binding the dog and master together for all eternity. That still doesn’t stop Mordichai from skinning him, or something really creative but one thing is for sure, they need each other and that’s that...No matter how much they deny it. [/LIST][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][b]Name:[/b] Jess. [b]Age:[/b] 20. [b]How did you find us?:[/b] I hate this question. [b]How did this happen?:[/b] Chase and Fallon refused to kill him.

[b]Name:[/b] Nathan Eliot Travis. [b]Nicknames & Aliases:[/b][LIST] [*] Nickname: Nat. (Earns some responses at times.) [*] Nickname: Nate. (Earns less responses than Nat.) [*] Nickname: Travis. (Responds to this!) [*] Alias: Nathan Reese. [/LIST][b]Age:[/b] 42. [b]Date of Birth:[/b] July 31st 1969. [b]Gender:[/b] Male, defiantly a male. [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Straight.  He’s not exactly looking right though. [b]Occupation:[/b] Works at Resurrect-R-Us.

[b]Nightly Raising Limit:[/b] 2 on his own, 3 with help from another animator. [b]Standing Rising Kit:[/b][LIST] [*] A sacrifice. Which is usually a chicken, sometimes a goat, or even his own blood. [*] A ceremonial knife. His knife is a simple hunting knife. [*] A jar of ointment. Which is basically blended Rosemary, Cloves, Sage, Thyme and graveyard mould. [*] Salt. [/LIST]

[b]Powers:[/b] [LIST]Nathan is an animator. Which means he was born with the power to raise the dead from their graves prior to the deceased soul leaving its body and moving on into the next life. It’s not as easy as it sounds either, there’s no waving a magic wand and saying a few words and hey presto, a zombie appears. An animator’s job is more ritualistic than that. – Nathan: Which is probably why it pays as much as it does. – Unless they mess up that is, but nine times out of ten, nothing bad happens.  

While he was born with the power in him, he still needs some tools for the trade. Those include, and I kid you not, chickens or goats and at times he’s even needed a pig, as the summoning involves a sacrifice. The older the zombie, the bigger the sacrifice, and since he doesn’t like ruining his jeep with farm yard animals, Nathan tries to keep it to chickens and the odd goat. Nathan also needs the zombie’s name in the ritual, the full name is best but if he’s pushed then the given birth name will do.  During the ritual, Nathan circles the grave with the blood of the sacrifice, ‘drawing’ a circle of power. Now, normally he’s the only person in that circle when he raises someone, but at times relatives of the deceased want to do things or ask things so Nathan makes them stand behind the grave marker before feeding the zombie blood and then giving the other person a chance to ask what they want. As a newly raised zombie has no memory and needs blood fed to them to regain their knowledge of their former life, Nathan gets through the basics first and hopes to God that anyone else inside the circle with him would be ballsy enough to disrupt the ritual.

So, he circles the grave with blood and power by picturing a glowing circle in his mind, it’s a double edged sword. Dead things can’t get out and dead things can’t get into it without him breaking the circle. With that done he dabs the blood of the sacrifice on his forehead, cheeks and heart, then repeats the motion with the ointment before smearing the headstone with both blood and ointment. The chant he then has to say is pretty basic [i]“Hear us, (corpse name). We call you from your grave. By blood, magic and steel, we call you. Arise, (corpse name), come to us, come to us. (corpse name X2) come to us. Waken, (corpse name), arise and come to us.”[/i] With that done, the dead literally rise as the earth covering the zombie rolls away allowing it to rise to Nathan’s command.  Since the zombie’s just a zombie, Nathan must then prick his finger and let the zombie taste blood to bring back its memories and give him total control. Insta-zombie! – Nathan: Hey! They have feelings now you know. – Questions can be asked and then he can send the zombie back to its resting place with salt and the chant to release them. Then its just a matter of going back to the car and cleaning up.

He also has the minor ability to sense the dead, and occasionally see human souls and ghosts that haven’t moved on. They’re nothing more than shades really, and so he doesn’t give them much attention. Everyone knows if you give ghosts attention, they’ll come back for more and more of it. [/LIST]

[b]Face Claim:[/b] Simon Baker. [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://i54.tinypic.com/33o7790.jpg[/IMG][LIST]Nathan? A remarkably stunning male that needs to be in a fashion magazine? Never! He is however 5 feet and 10 inches tall and of average build, though – Nathan: I work out....Sometimes. – he looks a bit bigger than his 160lbs in weight. He can hold his own in a fight though for a time, and I suppose that’s what counts in the end right? Well, he’s also got blonde hair that can be mistaken for mousy brown when it’s wet or under certain lighting, and stunning green eyes and that’s about it.

Oh! You want more, ok.  His hands are rough with small scars from his work; those scars turn a little bigger and more pronounced against his skin as you move up to the wrists. Suicidal, psh, never, but it’s often mistaken for such. Tattoos, piercings and Nathan don’t belong in the same sentence. Nathan has nothing in the way of ink work or metal work and has never shown interest in getting things like that done and likely won’t anytime in the future. While he may not have any work done himself, he does take an interest in stuff like that at times. – Nathan: its art, of course it’s interesting. –

Nathan tends to wear suits more than casual clothes like jeans and t-shirts but he won’t rule them out. A nice suit can promote maturity and professionalism, and that seems to calm down distraught clients. Of course, there’s that and the fact that suits are cool. He won’t rule out t-shirts and jeans though, he tends to wear them more when he’s spending time at home or on his day off. [/LIST]

[b]Special Skills:[/b] [LIST] [*] Has a degree in preternatural biology. [*] Has helped in multiple RPIT cases stateside and brought in four killers. [*] A good listener when people need a shoulder to cry on. [*] Can summon a zombie up to 130 years old. [*] Giving blood. Yes, this means he’ll feed vampires in a pinch as well. [*] He’s good with a knife but he won’t ever use it against anyone. [*] Screw your weapons; he has logic on his side. [*] Knows a bit of Spanish, just enough to get by really. [/LIST] [b]Personality:[/b] [LIST]Nathan isn’t a generally moody person, he likes to see the positive side of things rather than the negative and often remains open minded about things around him. Some would say that he’s blunt and cocky at times, but that’s more because when he sees things, he doesn’t always think about what he’s saying until he’s actually said it and getting weird looks from people. When he’s thinking about the situation before him, Nathan can be the polite charmer that can pick up on other people’s emotions and body language quiet well, and will often manipulate people into emotional situations that suit them all. He doesn’t do it to be malicious, he does it to give people a piece of mind because really, he doesn’t like people to be all about the doom and gloom in their lives. – Nathan: I refuse to be that one emo guy in the corner; I won’t let others suffer either! –

So he’s the token smiler and the charmer, and a bit of an odd ball for apparently caring. – Nathan: You forgot impudent, annoying and clever, my dear. Opportunistic at times as well.– You’ve got to earn respect to get it, Nathan’s a fond believer of that and while people may cower and cringe around angry supernatural’s he won’t do it without due course to do so, say like, he’s being paid to do it and only then would he cower like a struck dog. Since his boss signs the pay check, he has to be nice to them, and will often swing from being a fake to a cheeky flirt. –Nathan: The last time I did that, I ended up with knee to the groin. Please don’t paint me out to be something I’m not most of the time. – Nathan will often feel bad for victims of supernatural violence, be it a lycanthrope mauling or a vampire killing, or anything else and if he’s called into help on a RPIT case, he’ll do his best to help and once it’s solved, sink into oblivion with a nice bottle of alcohol.

Yeah, he doesn’t instantly trust anyone either. He may appear like it but he’s always on his guard until he decides that he doesn’t need to hide behind the fake smile, and cryptic puzzle loving mind. Nathan can be impulsive at times, often doing things without telling anyone until he needs help or after the fact because he’s a bit of a masochist that way. He doesn’t often accept help, either in day to day life or working life, but when he does, he obviously feels a need to have it. Nathan tends to keep a lot of emotions bottled up at time, it’s nothing intentional on his part, he just does it unconsciously for reasons spanning back years. Doing this has gifted him with the inability to sleep properly on a night, instead of getting the recommended eight hours; Nathan rarely gets more than four at a push.

He does have a bit of a bad side though and you can tell the difference if you know him well enough. He withdraws into himself and often keeps his thoughts to himself, even when asked to share he won’t do it. He’s the type of person that likes pushing buttons and playing mind games with people so this is a startling difference in his person. He doesn’t get violent and smack people about like some thug on an ego trip, but some of his snappy growled comments will often leave marks that he will try and fix later on when he’s calmed down if he’s presented with the opportune moment to do so. He doesn’t like being angry, isn’t naturally angry, so there’s no real need to leave things fester just to be cruel.

Nathan’s an excommunicated catholic – Nathan: If God loves all, then the Pope is an idiot for excommunicating all animators and necromancers because they can summon the dead. – So he doesn’t have faith like most people that he knows does, thus a Holy item won’t protect him. He’s an Atheist and proud of it. He just doesn’t believe in a higher power because it’s illogical and he won’t believe until there’s proof of said power before his very eyes. However, saying that, you could also label him as Agnostic because if vampires and other supernatural creatures exist, then why shouldn’t a “God”? Now, his views on the supernatural community are a little more logical. Well, since he’s a part of it he can’t complain much about it. He won’t put himself in the middle of angry vampires or lycanthropes because he knows that they have a system of their own. He will however, step in and try and diffuse the situation if there are other humans involved between other beings because it’s only natural for him to help the underdog. [/LIST][b]Likes:[/b][LIST] [*] Puzzles and challenges. [*] Relaxing after a long day with a puzzle book. [*] A nice glass of red wine, or a cup of tea. [*] Risings that go to plan. [*] Walks on the beach. [*] Sleep when he can get it. [*] Helping people out to the best of his ability. [*] Going for a walk if he’s restless. [*] Appearing professional in everything he does. [*] A home cooked meal over fast food. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b][LIST] [*] Sunrises. It means he’s worked all night long. [*] Ankle biting dogs. Have you ever been bitten by one of them? He has! [*] Vampires that thing they’re all that. [*] People that take no badly. [*] Noisy criers. Zombie rising is hard work without the distraction as it is. [*] People that think being ‘supernatural’ is a crime against God. [*] Killing goats for work. He likes to make do with chickens. [*] When his computer doesn’t work, because he has no idea how to fix it. [*] Types of people that spoil movies or books before he reads or watches. [*] A promising challenge turning into a dud. [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b][LIST] [*] Will be polite if he’s with civil people. [*] Can follow orders, in his own way. [*] Is professional when it comes to his work. [*] Doesn’t drink through the week, that’s saved for the weekends. [*] He’s got a good mind; he just over uses it to the point of abuse. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b][LIST] [*] He’s anyone’s for a nice cup of tea. [*] Victims of supernatural crime, particularly children. [*] Isn’t that technological advanced. [*] Attitude and trust problems. [*] Bull-headed reckless streak. [*] Can be pretty oblivious to things at time. [/LIST][b]Fears:[/b][LIST] [*] Claustrophobia: He’s tried to get help for this, but there’s nothing to be done. It’s an irrational phobia that makes him terrified of confined spaces. [*] Belonephobia: He’s afraid of needles and will faint if they’re used on him. He’s fine if he doesn’t look but this phobia’s what’s pushed him to avoid many medical experiences than he cares to mention. [*] Being the cause of an out of control zombie of any kind. [*] Being tricked into raising a murder victim from the grave. [/LIST][b]Family:[/b][LIST] [*] Janet Reese: mother : alive. [*] Elliot Travis: father : unknown. [*] Ines Reese: grandmother : alive. [*] Jonas Reese: grandfather : dead. [/LIST][b]History:[/b] [LIST]Nathan Elliot Travis was born in downtown San Diego, California way back in July 1969. He was the surprise – Nathan: More like unwanted but mother never was to hurt people’s feelings. - Birth of female police officer, Janet Reese who before she had found out about the pregnancy, had recently changed her name back to her maiden name after a long year of family and relationship drama that she wanted to put behind her. Nathan was simply the product of a very brief fling with her former husband Elliot Travis and she didn’t know about their child until it was too late and she was screaming blue murder and cursing all males within a thirty mile radius of her.  Now, as an unwanted child, you’d think that his childhood would’ve been one full of heartache and misery but it really wasn’t. His mother loved him with every breath in her body and even though she’d given up her badge without thinking about it when he’d been born, she never once let people put her down or her son for that matter. So what if his Grandparents where old fashioned and thought that he should’ve been put into the foster system because his mother couldn’t cope! She would be twice as mean back and just as stubborn as them and prove that she could. Since she was a single mom though, things were hard on her. If Nathan got sick, she would go without sleep and food just to make sure that he was better. If he outgrew any clothes, she would go without stuff for him all the more. The stubborn streak was what cost Janet the semi support of her parents by the time Nathan was three years old, and brought into the young man’s life something that Janet had never wanted. His father.

Elliot Travis was a manipulator, he wooed his mother for months after finding out that he had a son by her and almost a year later, he was back in her bed and in her body as well as her mind. Nathan didn’t like this man from day one and while most children wanted to be like their father and impress them, Nathan did not because at the end of the day there was only enough room in the house for two people. His father had to go. – Nathan: You make it sound so malicious than it actually was at the time. – Nathan started to plot little things at first, typically childish stuff like dumping his father’s wallet into the bin or tossing his car keys out of the window and into the garden hoping and praying that someone would find them or that they’d get buried under garden refuse. He even went as far as switching the setting on the washing machine to shrink Elliot’s clothes. Poor Nathan, he got the shock of his life when his father found him red handed pouring paint on all of Elliot’s clothes just after his eighth birthday, his plan had been to blame the decorators that Elliot had hired to redo the ‘marital room’ – Nathan: Oh lovely, I think I’ve just been sick in my mouth. - If it ever came about. Elliot beat Nathan into submission both physically and also mentally. He swore that if Nathan played anymore tricks, that Nathan would be made to watch Elliot hurt his mother and that alone put Nathan back in his place for many years to come. Of course the occasional beating that was brushed off as accidents helped Elliot control Nathan, as well as the threats towards Janet’s safety and wellbeing. It all stopped by the time he was fourteen thankfully, but it would be one of those memories that Nathan would keep for the rest of his life.

He’d been suffering at school, insomnia during the night and headaches and nausea, the inability to hold down food for more than five minutes before running to the bathroom, had affected his grades and performance on a whole as well as his life. His mother was worried, almost frantic that something was seriously wrong with her son, but Elliot didn’t care. He tried to calm Janet down but she had none of that and called in the grandparents. Nathan had an alright relationship with them, they neither loved him or hated him and defiantly didn’t try to beat him like Elliot did. His grandmother took an interest immediately when she found out that he hadn’t been sleeping or eating. Granny Ines put her foot down so hard when Nathan complained that he wasn’t hungry or lied when he said that he was going to try and sleep. Sure it made her angry but what really infuriated the dear old soul was the time when she’d come to give Nathan some clothes to put in his wardrobe – Nathan: I remember that night. Mom was on a date and they were babysitting. - And saw the bruises on his ribs and back. Nathan broke and told her every single detail, and at fourteen years of age, it was hard to ignore [i]the look[/i].

By the time Elliot and Janet returned, Nathans Grandfather Jonas was waiting. Jonas at the time knew everything – Nathan: Well, not everything. I didn’t tell them about me trying to get rid of Elliot in the first place – and just like Ines, he was furious and simply set the big old German shepherd dogs he kept around the back of the house on Eliot to scare the live out of him. Hex and Hooligan did their job, but what was worse, Ines told Janet the whole sordid tale and Nathan’s mother saw red. In the following days, Nathan enjoyed peace. Elliot was out of his life – Nathan: Go, go gadget restraining order! - And in an amusing turn of events, Nathan had his grandparents around in his life more often and his mother had her parents back. All was well, until a year or so later when Jonas suffered a heart attack which proved too much for the seventy two year old and slowly killed him. Nathan shouldn’t have been listening in on the brief conversation between his grandparents, but the talk of being brought back and his grandmother agreeing had caught and held his attention in its poisonous grasp and still weighed heavily on his thoughts throughout the following day into the next until Ines informed him and his mother that Jonas had passed away. The look that she gave Nathan though, removed any idea that he’d not been caught spying and listening in.

After Jonas’ funeral, his grandmother drew him aside. She explained...things to him. She was a long retired vaudun priestess, having left her religious beliefs behind when she’d found her true love and could bring the dead back for brief periods of time. Monsters from fairytales and movies were real and lurking in the shadows preying on people and the world was in for a very big wakeup call someday. Instead of brushing her off as a distraught widow, Nathan believed her, he could sense something about Ines now that he hadn’t been able to sense before, and he begged her to train him as her apprentice and seeing something in the young one, his grandmother agreed. Thus, at the age of sixteen, Nathan Travis’ mind was opened to a world bigger than the one that he thought he knew. Oh, Ines poked and prodded that spark in Nathan and helped him grow in his power and never gave him a break. She wasn’t the best mentor – Nathan: Her words, not mine. She said them repeatedly. – But she wasn’t exactly the same as Nathan was. He’d been born with this power, but she couldn’t work out how he’d got it since Janet hadn’t been born with it. However, they rarely sat down and brooded about things in the past because there was always something new that she could teach him and by the time he was twenty one, he’d brought back his first zombie on his own and Ines declared that there was nothing else to teach him.  

What could a young animator do in a world that didn’t accept the supernatural? Vampires and were-creatures? He knew that they were there thanks to his grandmothers training and her lessons. He could now make out the souls of recently dead and lingering ghosts if he focused hard enough. He was at a loss, and even though he knew things that not many did, he hid away. Got on with life and moved to New York, then when he got bored with New York, he tried his luck in New Orleans a few years after in 1995, bouncing back to San Diego three times a year to see his mother and Ines when he could. It was great. For awhile he forgot that he could bring back the dead, for awhile he was normal. Then the supernatural world came out of hiding in 1997 and everything changed. Vampires where hunted, lycanthropes where run out of jobs and lynched in the streets, supposed “psychics” and other people that worked with magic where arrested. It was bad times for everyone and people where scared but in 2000 supernatural became legal. It still didn’t stop people from being scared and angry. – Nathan: They had a right to be as well. I’d have been scared if I hadn’t known before hand. -

That was eleven years ago, in that time Nathan’s moved from New Orleans to San Francisco, from there to Atlantic City, and to Toronto plying his trade as a freelance consultant for RPIT teams and anyone needing their formerly alive loved ones returned for a little while, never really running with the ‘’big dogs’’ in reanimation until 2006. By that time he was in trouble, up to his eyeballs in debt and needed the money that a proper position in an animation firm could get him as well as signing himself up as a stable retainer for the Toronto RPIT teams. It took him nearly five years to dig himself out of debt and save up for another move. Outside of San Diego growing up as a kid, five years was the longest time that he’d ever stayed in one place and it was starting to get to him.

Nathan would’ve ended up in another city if he hadn’t heard from an English vampire about this quaint little city England. Jackford. He was told that it was one of England’s supernatural hotspots, and surprised that it wasn’t London, or Cardiff or any of the more commonly known places. Since it was overseas, Nathan had to wait another year to sort through paperwork and stuff to move overseas, while researching Jackford and in February of 2011, early he actually made it to England! Well, London really but close enough to his final destination. –Nat: Now I’ve just got to secure a job and a home and not be stuck in a hotel for the rest of my time here. – It’s now early March, he’s finally made it to Jackford and he has no idea what’s going to happen next. [/LIST][/SIZE]

[b]Name:[/b] Jess [b]Age:[/b] Old enough not to fall for easy pranks. [b]How did you find us?:[/b] I didn't! You found me!

[b]Name:[/b] Archer Rousseau. [b]Nicknames:[/b] [LIST] [*] Archibald Moreau. – Alias. Get over it. [*] Arch – Meh. He’ll acknowledge you. [*] Archie – No way. He’ll hurt you, if not kill you. [/LIST][b]Age:[/b] 28 [b]Date of Birth:[/b] 20th of November, 1982. [b]Gender:[/b] Male. [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Pansexual. [b]Occupation:[/b] Supernatural Trafficker.

[b]Powers:[/b] Nope, he's a plain old human. There might be a dash of sensitivity in there, but only enough to make the hair rise on the back of his arms and neck. Not enough for him to pay too much attention too. This will change in the future with a little nip...

[b]Face Claim:[/b] Gaspard Ulliel. [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/bleuchanel11.jpg[/IMG][LIST]Archer isn’t that remarkable really or so he thinks, of course he’s vain enough not to complain and brush aside any complements because he likes them. What he doesn’t see is that he truly is a handsome young man. With dark blue eyes that have a habit of assessing people’s souls, Archer’s stands at a simple 5’10 ¾ inches which isn’t that bad in today’s world, more so when he weighs in at 178lbs in weight. Dark brown bangs normally fall across his eyes, only to be swept back in annoyance. He’s too damn stubborn to get his hair cut, so he has left his shoulder length hair alone. Oh he ties it back on occasion, but most of the time he leaves it as it is. He’s even tried the shaven look, but recently he’s developed a liking for the five o’clock shadow and goatee.

He has one simple tattoo on the inside of his left wrist which serves as duel reminders to his past. The [URL=http://www.chinatownconnection.com/chinese-symbol-carpe-diem.htm]Chinese symbol meaning "carpe diem"[/URL] He received it from his twin sister, otherwise he would have most likely had it removed it by now. Instead he covers it with a watch strap and really has forgotten about that. As it so happens, with his job and his tendency to get into the thick of things, Archer has a few scars from his work. One nasty – and fully healed scar – on his shoulder, from a werewolf that had a temper. Other than that, he’s got rough hands but little else in the way of imperfections.

As far as his sense of fashion, Archer doesn’t mind dressing down into something casual, in fact, if he can pull off something with jeans, he prefers that. However, he can normally be seen in a formal set up, shirt and tie, waist coat or jacket, trousers, sturdy shoes, when dealing with clients and anything work related. Which seems to be most of the time with Archer, but he’s taken a liking to looking smart. Jewellery isn’t that big of a challenge for Archer either, a wedding band to fool people if it’s needed a watch by necessity.  Maybe even a necklace or bracelet at times. Most of the time however, his wardrobe is dictated by his mood so it all depends really. [/LIST][b]Special Skills:[/b] Does your character have any special skills that set them out from other people? This can include weapons training and the like. If they don’t, just put n/a.

[b]Personality:[/b]  Let us know what your character is like in here, the good, the bad and the in-between. One paragraph minimum isn’t much!   [b]Likes:[/b]  [LIST] [*] Relaxing in the tub after a long day with a glass of wine. [*] Reading. A good book can save anyone’s sanity. [*] Cooking when he’s bored or thinking. [*] Exploring new things. It doesn’t matter what it is. [*] Control. He needs it in some form or another. [*] A successful sale. What? It’s just a business. [*] A challenge. In any shape of form. [*] Movie/Television shows marathons. [*] Women, over men…If you’re talking anything sexual. [*] Art. In all its forms and glory. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b][LIST] [*] Having to chase after people. It’s annoying and reminds him of hunting. [*] A bad business transaction. They make him look like a fool. [*] Insomnia attacks. It normally means his conscience is still alive and kicking. [*] Clingy people. Women seem to want to cuddle, and cuddly men? We don’t speak of it. [*] Vegans and vegetarians. Meat is not murder in his eyes, but he's willing to commit it. [*] Having to be nice to idiotic people. [*] Weak willed people. They’re easy too easy to control and there’s no challenge. [*] Being backed into a corner and dragged into the lime light by something. [*] People that try and manipulate him. It leaves him in a [*] Tears. People make him cringe when they cry. [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b][LIST]• Sweet talking and charming people. He uses every skill to his advantage. • He’s not the type to let pleading get to him. • Follows orders when he wants too. This mind set is directed at some people out of pure amusement. • Loyal to his siblings. He will do anything for them. • “You have to make them believe you’ll hurt them…” … He will. • He’s a very good listener; you could say he was a people’s person. • His twin sister. Don't mess around with Simona or there’ll be angry words. • Isn't stupid enough to brush threats away completely but he doesn't let them bother him openly. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b][LIST] [*] He’s a sucker for anything exotic. [*] He can be unbelievably blunt at times. Bad for business that. [*] He’s stubborn when it comes to asking for outside help. [*] He goes out of his wait to bait a reaction out of people at times. [*] He can be a bit of a control freak. [*] Has a dark and dry sense of humour at times. [*] Simona and Bernard. He’d do anything for his family if they were in trouble. [*] He has a heart. Tucked away in there, somewhere. [/LIST][b]Family:[/b][LIST] [*] Fallon Rousseau; father; dead. [*] Audrey Rousseau; mother; mia, presumed dead. [*] Simona Rousseau; twin sister; alive. [*] Bernard Rousseau; older brother; alive and technically mia for now. [/LIST][b]History:[/b]  3 paragraphs minimum here, you can tell us what’s happened in your characters life, from their birth to the current day.

[SIZE=1][b]Name:[/b] Jess. [b]Age:[/b] 22. [b]How did this happen?:[/b] He needed an updated application.

[align=center][IMG]http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lidyo4kwgL1qexe87.gif[/IMG][/align]

[b]Name:[/b] Tegan Jonathon Frost [b]Nicknames & Aliases:[/b] [LIST] [*] Alias/Fake ID: Tegan Summers. [*] Nicknames: Tee, Teg, Frost, Frosty. [/LIST][b]Age:[/b] 31 [b]Date of Birth:[/b] 24/01/1981. [b]Gender:[/b] Male [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Bisexual; but happily taken by a guy. [b]Occupation:[/b] RPIT Detective Inspector.

[b]Animal Species:[/b] African Leopard. [b]Animal Description: [/b] [IMG]http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/app%20pics/teganapplication2.png[/IMG] [i]Weight:[/i] 155lbs [i]Length:[/i] 9' from nose to tail tip. [i]Height:[/i] 30 inches at the shoulders. [i]Coat:[/i] Creamy tanned yellow with dark rosettes. [b]Do you have a hybrid/alpha form?:[/b] [URL=http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/app%20pics/wereleopard_by_koutanagamori-d32f28a.jpg]Indeed he does.[/URL][LIST]Tegan stands at a rough seven foot tall in this form and weighs in at a hefty 320lbs.  From head to foot he’s covered in tawny gold fur with black spots, has a tail, paws instead of hands and feet and while he may appear more feline than human in this form, but he’s more than capable of speech. [/LIST][b]Rank:[/b] Nimir Raj. [b]How long has your character been a lycanthrope?:[/b] 10 years and 7 months. [b]Mind set:[/b] Dominant. [b]Power level:[/b] Alpha. [b]Powers:[/b][LIST] [*] Hybrid form. [*] Healing through touch. [*] Force/Prevent shift in both leopards and jaguars. [*] Resist a vampire’s direct gaze. (480 and under). [*] Can shield his beast and appear human. [/LIST] [b]Face Claim:[/b] Shane West [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/app%20pics/teganapplication.png[/IMG] [i]Height:[/i] 6’0. [i]Weight:[/i] 165lbs. [i]Eyes:[/i] Hazel green. [i]Hair:[/i] Light brown. [i]Build:[/i] Average, athletic. [i]Visible marks:[/i] Tee’s back is pretty clawed up from when he was attacked and infected, from shoulders to the small of his back he looks like he’s been whipped. He has a torn bite scar on his side just over right his hip. He has a black panther tattoo on his left shoulder and on his right shoulder, Tee has a large fleur-de-lis. Over his heart he has "Satori". [i]Style:[/i] Generally Tegan likes to leave an impression on people, so he generally wears a suit to work. However when he’s kicking around the house he’s more than happy to wear casual things like jeans and t-shirt.

[b]Special Skills:[/b] [LIST] [*] Knows a little Russian and Spanish, just enough to get him by and is currently learning Italian. [*] Good under the hood of a car; his baby is proof. [*] Moderately proficient with firearms. [*] Knows basic hand to hand/close combat skills. [/LIST][b]Personality:[/b] [LIST]Compared to his twin brother, Oliver, Tegan is the calmer and more rational of the Frost brothers despite being fairly rough around the edges. He may be a little unorthodox at times depending on the situation at the time – especially when conventional methods don’t work in his favour - but that doesn’t make him a bad person, he just doesn’t like to mess around when it comes to some things such as work, leadership responsibilities and his family life. Outside of those three aspects of his life, Tegan’s pretty chilled out and the type of person that will always try and be there for someone else no matter the cost to him. Of course that’s not to say that he won’t think things through either before or after. He is the type to hang out and have a few beers after work with his friends, shoot hoops at the park on his time off if he isn’t tied up with something else.

He’s loyal. Even if someone betrays him, Tegan will likely keep an eye on that someone. He may not be that willing to throw himself in the line of fire, but he’d be there. While he may not be that trusting from the start of a relationship, Tee goes to some extreme measures to work on trust between him and the other person – or persons - involved. He may, at times, keep some things to his chest such as choices and decisions regarding the Pard or work, and derail the conversation should they come up before he’s ready to talk about them. It just means that he’s thought things through. He may not show it at times, but he does care about the people close to him; and in his mates case, he cares a great deal but what he says go without question. His very family orientated in his own way. Tegan was raised that idle hands could always be put to work elsewhere, and that manners were important on top of always being there for kin.

Tegan is anti-vampire for the most part. But that isn’t to say that he’ll go out of his way to cause trouble for any vampire that crosses his path. He’d just rather prefer that they leave him and his pard alone, but since life isn’t that fair, and he knows for experience that most vampires take what they want, he’s personally remained remarkably cautious about the species as a whole. He doesn’t really mind when someone in his pard has connections to a vampire (though he’ll growl about it if he sees something he doesn’t like), he won’t micromanage the pard that way, all he asks that those with vampire affiliations take their business elsewhere as he won’t put up with a vampire in his house or in his face. He’ll try and be civil with a vampire, he really will, but the bad experiences with the vampires have kept him at odd when it comes to them.

His personal preferences are damned when it comes to his work. It doesn’t matter if he’s dealing with a human, a shifter, vampire or something all else altogether, he likes to keep things as professional as possible even if he’s out of his element. Tegan’s not exactly a work-a-holic - Ok, well he is, but he wouldn’t call himself that – but he does at some times overwork himself and just keep going until he drops or gets told to take a break. His feelings on the other supernatural differ depending on what he’s drawn into. If it’s personal, that’s fine with him, he’ll roll with the punches but if someone or something thought that dragging his Pard into their issues was going to be fun, Tegan would fight tooth and nail to get them out of it. [/LIST][b]Likes:[/b]  [LIST] [*] Working out. [*] Playing the guitar. [*] A decent cup of coffee. [*] Keeping busy with work. [*] Working on his car when he’s stressed. [*] Having some fun with friends. [*] Having a drink after work. [*] Closing a case. [*] Movie nights in. [*] Climbing as a cat. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b][LIST] [*] Vampires. [*] Chick flicks. [*] An unsolved case. [*] Inner Pard fighting. [*] When he’s put on the spot. [*] When someone lies to his face. [*] People that make him repeat himself. [*] His twin brother when he’s being an ass. [*] When people eye his car for the 'oh cool' buzz. [*] People that think he's a push over and try to be a leader. [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b] [LIST] [*] Twin empathy. [*] He actually listens to people. [*] Very protective of the Pard. [*] Standard alpha strengths. [*] Shielding his beast, he barely notices when he shields now. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b][LIST] [*] Can't resist a vampire’s call or gaze (the latter 400+ years.) [*] Twin empathy can be a pain in his ass. [*] His 1966 Impala SS Sport Coupe! He’s poured a lot of time into his baby. [*] Can have a bit of a hot head at times. [*] Possessive of his mate. [/LIST][b]History:[/b] [LIST]Thirty one years ago in Bucklin, Missouri USA, Tegan J. Frost was brought kicking and screaming into the world seconds before his twin brother did. His father, James was delighted and so was his mother, Dawn Frost. However things didn’t go so well. Within minutes of both boys being brought into the world, Oliver died and was spirited away by one of the nurses on call during the delivery. It was a sad state of affairs, and both parents were devastated, Dawn more so than her husband because little did Mrs Frost know, her other son was alive and in the hands of her husband’s mistress and bit on the side. News of Oliver’s ‘death’ was a dramatic blow to the family and people close to the newly wed Frosts once they returned home with their surviving boy to start their new life.

Life for Tegan was pretty simple and family orientated while he was growing up. Despite the fact that it was his mother that was the role model in his life because his father was almost constantly away due to work and would only be home a few months at any one time. When he was home, however, Tegan always tried to stay clear of his father because the elder Frost believed that a good old fashioned beating would toughen any boy up to be a man. He took his licks when they came to him; which was generally when his mom wasn’t around or when he’d done something really bad that a talking to didn’t seem to cover. Respect was one of the things that James Frost demanded, and while Tee may have respected his old man, in the same breath he couldn’t stand him either.

Throughout school, even though Tegan had his ups and downs for various reasons, he tried to make his parents proud. It wasn’t until he was seventeen that Tegan was given something that took his mind off the typical teenage issues that plagued everyone that age; a girlfriend, school grades and peer pressure. On a trip home, his father gave him the keys to the old car in the garage that he’d never been able to give the attention it needed. It was a wreck, but Tegan saw the potential right away and over the next year and a half he put his heart and soul into fixing the machine up while his friends wandered their own way assuming that he thought that he was better than them. It was around about this time that he really sat down to think about what he was going to do with his life.

He could’ve gone into the army like his father, or he could’ve done countless other things like settle down with a wife like his mom hinted at, however Tegan decided that he would rather go into law enforcement. It was something that he hadn’t decided on a whim, and the evening that he’d decided to tell his parents, his life changed when his mom turned around and told him that his father had passed on. It was shocking, and it numbed Tegan to the point he didn’t speak to anyone – not his mother, his girlfriend or even the guy at the corner store - until the day of the funeral almost a week after he’d gotten the news. It was during the service that things took a dramatic turn once more. Half way through, a punk rocker rolled up like he owned the world. It could’ve been handled easily if it had been anyone else, expect the guy looked exactly like Tegan.

He introduced himself as “Ollie”, James' son.  

His dad wasn’t even in the ground twenty minutes before a fight between the boys broke out and they were only separated when Dawn got in between them and forced them to back off. Tee was mortified at what he’d done and Ollie was fuming that Dawn had got between them, but Dawn didn’t leave it at that. She chewed on both her boys before Ollie stormed off in one direction and Tee in the other. Tegan didn’t go home for two days after the funeral and revelation that his twin brother was alive, he was a mess emotionally and pushed everyone away when they tried to get close. He’d lost his father, gained a brother that he’d always been told was dead, his mom had no answers she really wanted to give him and even his girlfriend at the time wanted him as far away from her as possible for the scene at the funeral. He may have been a mess, but he did return home after a few days when he’d had a chance to calm down. The day he came home, he and his mom had a bit of a talk that had been long overdue.  His mom told him how things had been strained with her and James’s marriage but she never dreamt that it would affect him. Then when he hesitantly broached the topic about Oliver, all he was given a phone number – somehow she’d managed to snag that before Ollie had left – before she changed the topic. He could see that it still hurt her, so Tegan left his mother to it and went about his own business.

In retrospect, he probably should have told Dawn that he was moving out and applying to the force. She probably would have been fine with it if he had been staying local where they could still keep in touch daily, however when she found out that he was moving to San Francisco, Dawn flipped! She tried everything that she could but nothing seemed to faze Tegan who was only a few months shy of his nineteenth birthday. The move itself was relatively pain free, and as scary as the prospect of beginning his own life away from anything familiar was, Tee pushed on as best that he could. It wasn’t until a three months after his twentieth birthday that he decided, well and truly, that the SFPD was the right occupation for him and applied to join the force. The tests and exams almost made him change his mind half way through the process; his time at the academy however flew by with very little memorable moments, and within half a year he was a fully-fledged cop.

Things didn’t really change for Tegan until mid-June, two thousand and two. On a call out with his partner in the downtown area – Pacific Heights if you want the exact location -, both officers were lead to believe that the disturbance were just bored kids. In fact there was money riding on the fact that they’d find some kids hunkered down in a court yard making weird noises to spook the residents who just happened to be around at the time. What the two officers found was something a little bit more than a couple of kids playing pranks. Caught in an alley way, mid transformation was a leopard shifter that attacked first and asked questions never. Perry died within minutes as the panicked and enraged monster charged them and swatted him into a wall, snapping his neck. Tee managed to get two shots off before the beast transformed fully into the nastiest looking feline he’d ever seen. Rather than attempting to run, Tee did the opposite and attempted to put the beast down. It didn’t work, and the exact details of the mauling were lost under the pain and finally, thankfully, unconsciousness.

Tegan woke up a week later in a secured hospital ward, having healed enough from the attack to be allowed visitors by his doctor. The visitor in question was the deputy chief of Field Operations and ultimately, Tegan’s superior officer. He explained what had happened as well as informing him about Perry’s passing and such. The daze that he’d listened in quickly vanished when the deputy chief brought up possible retirement. When Tegan panicked and asked why, he was told that no one wanted to work with a monster that could turn any moment and attack fellow officers. What was worse, outside of the early retirement, the FOB deputy chief then proceeded to berate him for not killing the leopard creature or helping to save his partner’s life. In the end, it was all too much for Tegan and he sank somewhat blissfully into unconsciousness once more as his doctor hustled the superior officer out of the room. Two weeks later, Tegan discharged himself from hospital against the wishes of his doctor. The first place he went was to work and as distraught as he was, Tegan kicked up enough of a fuss that he managed to wangle a meeting with the Deputy Chief. It may have cost him his position in the Metro division, but that didn’t bother him then. After a long and painful talk that seemed to take hours and perhaps because he could see Tee’s desperation over the idea of being kicked from the force, the DC brought up another option that Tegan could take instead of retirement. A transfer to the UK; more to the point a transfer to a new division that allowed supernaturals to work on the force, known as the Royal Preternatural Investigation Team. Seeing as it was Tegan’s only option outside of losing his job, he accepted and within the week he was on a plane to the UK with the assurance from the Deputy Chief that things would be sorted by the time he’d landed.

Unfortunately, things had been cut a little too close for comfort. With days of finding a new place to live and moving in, Tee’s first shift hit him like a tonne of bricks. When he came around, he found that his flat had been torn apart, but that wasn’t what freaked him out the most. What unnerved him, was the fact that he woke up to find a couple bustling around his apartment like they owned the place. They introduced themselves – after Tegan had demanded to know what the hell they were doing - as the Nimir Raj and Nimir Ra of Jackford and when confronted and told that Tegan had no idea exactly what a Nimir Raj or Ra was, the female shifted into the biggest snow leopard he’d seen in his life outside of a television show. The Raj – he introduced himself as Ross – explained that they’d found him in the woods just a few miles north of where Tegan lived, and rather than confront him there and then, had followed him back to the flat. Personally, Tegan was fine with that and thanked them, however Emma – the Ra – chose that moment to pipe in after she’d shifted back, and demand to know when Tegan would’ve sought them out as Rogues weren’t welcome in Jackford and if he didn’t join the Pard, then they would have no choice but to force him out of the city or kill him. Put on the spot with all of this news and knowing deep down that he was severely out matched in every way, Tegan did the sanest thing he could, and asked if he could join the Pard figuring that it was the lesser of two evils and that there wasn't much else that could really happen to him.

Being part of the Pard didn’t affect his job that much and he tended to stay away from the brewing troubles between the clan’s alphas. It wasn’t until the summer of two thousand and four however, that things changed drastically for them all. Ross and Emma had made a bargain with one of the local vampires that could call leopards. In exchange for the resources that the master vampire could give them, the Nimir Raj and Ra handed over their Clan to be used as however “Andrei” felt fit. This sparked an inter clan war between the alphas, and while they were fighting, the vampire turned his attention to the weaker werecats in the clan, and over the space of a few months, Tegan was being used as a walking, talking, blood bag just like many of the other Pard were as the little “rebellion” was crushed.

New arrivals came and old clan members left almost constantly, it seemed. However, one spunky new member to the clan caught Tegan’s attention. Sera was an omega like himself, and it didn’t take her attitude long to provoke an alpha that had a habit of picking on the weaker cats to make him feel bigger. Rather than see her punished for something unbelievably stupid like he had done over the year that she’d been in the group, Tegan got between them which surprised him and everyone else involved since he’d never gotten involved in any trouble or issues within the Pard, choosing to keep a distance from most things unless he was dragged into it. The stronger lycanthrope made his displeasure known and kicked the proverbial spots off Tegan’s hide before finally going on his own way, but not before leaving Tegan with some scars that he couldn’t get rid of afterwards. It was the beating that made something in Tegan click into place, and rather than stand back and let things carry on they were, he took action.

Rather than continue to view things from the side, Tegan pushed himself on and trained harder just like Sera did. He worked his way through the power structure when things between the Pard leaders and the vampires fell apart, and when he finally reached alpha status after eight years of nonsense, Tegan challenged Ross for leadership. Ross indulged him, figuring that it would be easy to break Tegan’s new found backbone and that ego was his downfall. Tegan ended up tearing out Ross’s throat during their fight, and despite the wounds that he’d suffered, when the Ra came upon them, he turned on her too. Yet, when he had her where he wanted her, where he could end her, Tegan backed off and told her that if he ever saw her face again or caught her scent in Jackford that he would do the same to her as he had her mate. Emma was wise enough to see where she was beaten and bolted into the woods, and that was the last that Tegan – or anyone else from the Pard - ever saw of the Queen.

That was almost three years ago, when he took the throne of the Life Forger Pard, and Tegan’s continued to maintain the position and bring the Pard back together as it should be without being some kind of a tyrant, as well as maintain his job. He’s even managed to win the heart of his mate and that suits him. [/LIST][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][b]Name:[/b] Jess [b]Age:[/b] My you’re a nosey lot. [b]How did you find us?:[/b] Shhhhh!

[b]Name:[/b] Micah William O'Connor. [b]Nicknames:[/b][LIST] [*] Mickey [*] O’Conner [*] Mick. [*] Oddball. [/LIST][b]Age:[/b] 33 [b]Date of Birth:[/b] 24th of August 1979. [b]Gender:[/b] Male. [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Bisexual. [b]Occupation:[/b] Private Investigator.

[b]Animal:[/b] White tiger (Siberian!) [b]Animal Description: [/b] [IMG]http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/app%20pics/tumblr_lzuuzpkdCZ1qls45bo1_500.jpg[/IMG][LIST]Micah is a big cat and comes in at a whopping 475 lbs in weight, and most of that is nearly streamlined muscle. While he may not be the biggest cat around, he has come across bigger, he’d pretty intimidating and given the fact that he’s 10 feet and 8.3 inches tall from nose to tail tip doesn’t make it any easier to become inconspicuous. Did I mention the stunning, thick, pure white coat with black stripes? Micah doesn’t have a cat in hell’s chance of blending in much unless he’s taking a romp in the snow but you can't deny that he's very regal looking in this form. [/LIST][b]Do you have a hybrid/Alpha form?:[/b] [IMG]http://themikal.files.wordpress.com/2009/02/weretiger.jpg[/IMG] (minus the frills of course>.>)[LIST]Yes, Micah does have a hybrid form that’s deadly when it comes to a fight. The kicker is, he hasn’t used this form in over five years and won’t unless forced into it, and if he was, I’m sure he’d welcome it albeit a bit reluctantly at first. In this form, he’s hitting 580lbs of muscle and stands at a large 6'5 feet. He doesn’t appear to have much in the way of human features in this form, a muzzle packed full of fangs, paws for hands and feet with retracting claws, a hide of white and black fur that thins out over his stomach, and of course, the tail to help him keep balance. [/LIST][b]Rank:[/b] Willing to join, but a rogue for now. [b]How long have you been a lycanthrope?:[/b] All his life. [b]Mindset:[/b] Dominant. [b]Power level:[/b] Alpha.

[b]Face Claim:[/b] Alex O’Loughlin [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/app%20pics/alex-oloughlin3.png[/IMG][LIST][i]Height:[/i]  6'2 [i]Weight:[/i] 196lbs [i]Eyes:[/i] Tiger blue; he wears brown contacts to appear more human. [i]Hair:[/i] Ruffled brown. When the sun hits it, he’s got gold tints. [i]Build:[/i] Toned, average. [i]Visible marks:[/i] Oh yes, he’s got a few visible marks but there’s only a few that really stand out. The self designed Celtic knot tattoo on his shoulder was done a long time ago by his sister with a silver needle. He’s also got claw marks from a dominance fight at the small of his back. [i]Style:[/i] Micah’s pretty laid back when it comes to his style of dress actually. He favours long armed shirts and t-shirts, but that doesn’t mean he won’t step out in any short armed shirts, or topless for that matter. As a shifter, he’s comfortable out of clothes as well as in them. Trousers are normally jeans, slacks or combat pants, something he could get dirty if the need called for it. And who doesn’t like a pair of sturdy boots that are good for any occasion? He almost always wears a duster coat and a pair of sunglasses when out in the sun, and as for jewellery, he’s got a ring on a gold chain that he wears sometimes around his neck. [i]Weapons:[/i] Yes, he’s got a gun but he doesn’t take it out of the lock box unless he’s working a job and yes he does have a permit! It’s a SIG P229 with custom silver hollow points. [/LIST][b]Special Skills:[/b][LIST] [*] As a former cop, he knows his way around the system for the most part. [*] He has basic firearms training and does carry concealed. [*] Trained from early on to take females animals into himself. [/LIST][b]Personality:[/b][LIST]As a born white tiger, Micah had it drummed into his head from an early age that he was better than other lycanthropes. That he was somehow purer then them, and yes, that included other strands of the tiger virus. As he was only young, he believed this, just like his parents did and his sisters but as he grew older Micah’s started to believe that he’s not better than other people and if he voiced that opinion around others, I’m sure he’d get a few odd looks for it, more so from other types of tigers. He may have been proud of that mentality as a cub, but he defiantly isn’t now.

Aside from that he’s an ok kind of guy, he can come off a bit secretive and quiet but that’s only because he’s trying to get a read on the people around him. If he’s not being quiet, he’s defiantly a charmer that likes to make people smile, in fact, it kind of makes his day to see people smile a little as it proves that the world isn’t such a total waste of time for any of them. A sweet talker and a bit playful as he may be, but he also knows when to shut his mouth and just listen to people before offering advice that he thinks best even if he knows that other people will not accept it. With this little flaw, he can also come off a little callous and mean hearted, maybe even a little blunt, but he really doesn’t mean it and doesn’t go out of his way to make enemies, he just likes to give people the facts.

Now he doesn’t trust people at his back, but he’ll grudgingly accept it if he has to as long as the other party prove that they aren’t about to put a knife between his shoulders. It’s the same when he opens up to his emotions, Micah’s known love an had it ripped away from him, he’s not about to suffer for a second time unless he’s sure that it’s worth it in the long run. If you know him, then you’ll know that he’d walk through the fires of hell to help you because it’s the type of loyal and protective guy that he is. Oh he may be a bit growly and a bit bossy at times, but he does mean well and his heart is in the right place even with all his issues.

So, we’ve got a dominant weretiger with personal issues and a multitude of other issues do we? Well that’s not surprising. Micah won’t put up with people trying to take away his right of choice or back him into a corner, it tends to make the nice male snarl and show his fangs. You play him for a fool and expect him to come after you, because you can only poke a tiger so many times before he snarls and makes you his meal. Men that abuse women and children, well, expect a call from him sometime soon. There are just some things that aren’t done and that’s one of them.

Does this mean that he’s always pissy and grumpy when confronted with a vampire that can call tigers or a Chang? No! He’ll go out of his way to prove that he isn’t going to cause any trouble as long as they don’t interfere with his life. He doesn’t mind helping, as long as a little is given in return. Unfortunately in the line of work that he’s in, it very rarely happens but one can hope right? [/LIST][b]Likes:[/b][LIST] [*] Mucking around in a garden. He had to give his up on the relocation. [*] Drinking contests! The human's almost always lose. [*] Roaming in both forms. A little exploration never kills anyone. [*] A clean apartment! He can't stand mess. [*] Working alone. He likes to think that’s what he does best. [*] Reading if he isn’t working. [*] Cooking and making sure he eats healthy. [*] Swimming. Why yes, that does include skinny dipping. [*] Sitting in on the occasional mass on a Sunday. [*] Keeping on top of any paperwork that comes his way. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b][LIST] [*] Having his history dragged up when it shouldn't be. [*] Having to run after suspects. [*] Being arrested for misunderstandings. [*] Looking for lost pets. He’s tempted to send them to the pound anyway. [*] People that try to get one up on him. What’s the flipping point? [*] Giving blood to various things. Vampires, blood bank, you name it. [*] Using his gun. [*] Giving people his back that he doesn’t trust. [*] Forgetting to put the trash out. [*] Being backed into a corner. [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b][LIST] [*] Normal shape shifter attributes. [*] Half form. [*] Doesn't take bullshit from other people. [*] Knows when to shut his mouth. Just. [*] Can look a vampire in the eye only very briefly. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b][LIST] [*] Point blank refuses to take a female tiger's animal into him. [*] Does try and play by other peoples rules. [*] Can’t resist a Master vampire’s command, or a Chang's distress call. [*] His sisters, Shannon (22) and Kelley (19). [*] Scared of fire. [/LIST][b]History:[/b][LIST]Ireland. The home too many things from humans and lycanthropes, all the way to giants and fairies and all other manner of mystical creatures. Ok, not so much, giants and fairies but the lycanthrope part is more than true. Micah O’Connor was born in August 1979, to the small hidden White clan that called North Belfast home. It was a big thing really in its own right, him being the first born male to John and Marion O’Connor after nearly several years of trying for an heir. It had taken so long because John couldn’t quite grasp the trick of taking his mates beast into himself on the full moon and with the arrival of Micah, came new possibilities for the family, and the clan on a whole. Now you’d have thought that he’d grow up as any normal child, go to school and make friends but he didn’t. His parents paid to have him home schooled by one of the clan teachers, it was great! He felt special, that was until he started to really listen to what was being said.  He was taught that he wouldn’t be able to shift into his tiger from until puberty which wasn’t so bad, but he was also taught that he was better than everyone else because he was pure, born of the White Clan. The impressionable young Irish lad stood no chance against that mental abuse – it wasn’t seen as abuse by anyone, more traditional teachings passed down for generations – and swiftly became a full-fledged cub in the clan.

So he thought he was better than everyone else, it still didn’t stop that troublesome thing called childhood. Micah got into scraps like any other brat his age, and spent a lot of time alone in his room sulking as his parents tried to smooth over other weretiger’s anger. One memorable fight was a former friend that had gotten his animal first, kids being kids, they searched out for the weakest link in their little community, and that unfortunately was Micah even if he was oddly popular. This kid that held a grudge, came after him as a feral tiger that wanted blood, Micah panicked and ran knowing that he couldn’t fight a cat. Playing with his parents when they were in cat form was one thing as they didn’t try to eat him or his baby sister Shannon, but this cat meant business.

Now he was only thirteen at the time, but Micah remembers it well. He didn’t make it to his parents; the cat brought him down from behind and started to claw into him. Friends of his parents came running, including Daniel’s own parents. The new shifter was hauled away but the damage was already done, and as Micah passed out from pain and blood loss, his parents arrived on the scene. When he woke up, he was curled up with his parents and blissfully numb. They’d gone out and got a doctor to take a look at him, another tiger of course, and they’d found out that Micah was more responsive and healing faster. It meant his first shift was due! It was hell on earth when it came. Despite being born with the ability, and knowing in theory what was going to happen, in his state, Micah wasn’t ready for when the change decided to take hold of him. Luckily his parents helped him out as much as they could, and that helped things along. What was even better was that his parents were trying for another kid. They already had Micah, and he looked after Shannon, but they were getting on in age and didn’t want to be running around after pesky tiger cubs for the rest of their life. That was now, unofficially Micah’s job.

It was still his job when they moved across the world, which to him was totally shocking. They relocated to Australia for various reasons after Micah had settled into his tiger form a year later at age fourteen. The main one being that with Micah's transition, the chance that a 'Little Queen' of Ireland calling him when he grew older was more prominent than ever as the Chang had yet another child. Micah's father had been called, even bound by wedlock, and had enraged the Chang of that time, so his parents weren't going to risk anything. They settled in Perth with his mother’s side of the family, and while it was quiet, and Micah full heartedly agreed with his father that it was boring, he couldn’t go against his mothers need to be near kin. They weren’t people that he knew though, and Micah withdrew from the other tigers. Oh yeah, he showed up at the meetings and hunts, the family picnics and the like, but he never made an effort to fit in. The others ate his sisters up, Shannon and wee Kelley, when she came along, lapped up the attention like milk but he didn’t. Cousins were sent on their way, uncles and aunts got a hug and a kiss on the cheek when they tried to get him to be like the other children, and even his parents found themselves on the receiving end of his anger and annoyance. Micah didn’t want to live in Australia, he wanted to go back home to dreary old Ireland.

The whole teenager angst died out though over the next few years and Micah tried to mend some bridges with the tigers in his life, while trying to maintain a life in the world of the humans. He found a few friends in the local streak, a great couple of humans as friends too. Things were great! He’d forget that he’d been a complete prick when they’d first moved, and during the summer after his seventeenth birthday, he met Sophie, another relocated were-tigeress from America of all places. There was a little awkwardness at first of course; the fact that she put him on his backside within four hours of meeting him and had slapped him for saying that she was cute, not withstanding, things did settle down after that and after a few weeks of him being a goof and trying to make her feel welcome. He did know how she was feeling of course, they became friends. He didn’t think that she’d be in the same class with him when he got back to school the following term. Every class, to be exact, every day of the week. It was, well, it wasn’t hell, but he certainly became more of a goof than normal and kitten love was in the air.

By the time he was twenty, he had a steady relationship with Soph. He ran with her on the full moon, they ...well; you get the picture there, all the while they were both learning what life would have in store for them in the Clan as their next step into becoming a full-grown weretiger neared. It was like everything was going right with his life, Ireland was a memory, his sisters and family were happy, he had an idea of what he wanted to do with his future, and Sophie became the only one for him. Even when he came into his powers, he’d been told that the White Clan’s element was metal, so he didn’t know what to expect from that, certainly didn’t expect his father coming to him one evening and telling him that they’d start up the old lessons again. He hadn’t had those since Ireland! And even then, he’d not had that good of a grip on the idea of taking someone else’s animal into himself. Micah didn’t think that his father approved of him and Sophie dating steadily, but since they hadn’t been stupid to take a risk that would’ve lead to pregnancy, no one had really objected.

Somewhere along the line of high school, and well into college, he’d began to think that he was no better than the humans around him. It wasn’t until he was hitting twenty five, married to Sophie and had the prospect of a child looming over his head, along with his career in law enforcement, that Micah realized that there’d been a change in his life. Sophie didn’t seem to get on with other tigers, so his only reasoning pointed to his wife. If she hadn’t come along; maybe he’d have grown into a self righteous prick that deemed himself higher than everything else because tradition dictated that that was the way to be.

Well, either way, the happiness and wonder in his life didn’t last that long. As a year later, a rouge group, mongrels that thought they could go against tradition of all the Clans and infect people willy nilly and kill anything that got in their way led by a Master Vampire with an affinity to their kind, had somehow managed to survive the two days travel from Melbourne with Kiss and RPIT on their tails. They rolled into Perth, the Master leading them taking an offence that the resident Streak had too many unmated females and an apparent weak Chang. The men wanted nothing more to rip the small band apart, but the Chang forbade them from doing any such thing as she tried to buy time for those tracking the rouges. It failed, as the Master set his band on the Clan. Sophie wasn’t supposed to get caught in the cross fire, it was Micah that was to lose his throat since he went straight for the Master vampire, but by the end of the night, his wife’s body was in his lap, tears streaming down his eyes. Oh, the Master vampire had been killed, torn to pieces, the rouges subdued, but it shouldn’t have happened.

Micah’s life went south fast after that; he handed in his badge, sold the house and moved into a small apartment across the other side of Australia, and also cut all but close ties to himself. He hit the bottle hard, trying to find a release of some kind from the pain he was feeling. It was a friend that kicked his ass, that gave Micah another shot at things, to help people like Soph would have wanted because she sure as hell wouldn’t have wanted him sitting on his ass crying into his drink. He didn’t want to go back to the force though, so he did the next big thing, he became a private investigator and signed up as a retainer to the local RPIT squad. He was a monster that could get other monsters to talk, and even though there was supernatural elements on the RPIT team, Micah was still the one that managed to get them the breaks in the cases that they had.

So, he helped people and in a roundabout way damned others if they were found guilty, there was many a time that he’d stood by and watched one or more licensed executioners stake a vampire or shoot a lycanthrope full of silver. Did he feel any sympathy? Maybe a little, but not enough that he wanted to put himself on the line of fire for them. His family didn’t approve of him sniffing around, eventually his parents disowned him and after awhile, the rest of his family too, but that was ok with him, he still made sure to stay in contact with his sisters even if it was an email here, an instant message there, or a card sent care of their schools. The senior O’Connor’s may have killed him in their minds, but the younger generation loved the fact that their ‘dead’ big brother had all kinds of interesting stories and adventures to tell them when their parents weren’t looking.

In retrospect, he probably should have thought about moving to a place that didn’t have a streak and a Chang in residence. One case was all it took for Micah to be a lone tiger, to be drawn into Clan life again. Just one, and his life wasn’t his own anymore but Caroline’s. The Chang preyed on his weakness and need to help people, she set him up, and when she found out that he knew how to take a females beast into himself, the crazy woman was ecstatic. Only problem was that Micah refused point blank to do it, even when she punished him, and set other males against him, Micah still refused to do it. Hell, he was even offered a second chance to just teach another to take in someone’s beast, and again, the refusal only earned him more trouble but for some odd reason Caroline didn’t kill him. She sent him on his way after a few months of the one sided game, making sure that he was to come when she called and he agreed to that full heartedly.

For the last few years, he’s been dancing around her and coming like a good dog when she demanded. It wasn’t until 2009 that she started to call him more and more, a blue tiger attack in her city had poked her interest, and the survivor had even more. Jasper Keller, a man that Micah’s never met in person, passed him on the street once, was Caroline’s new object of interest. She didn’t care that his wife and child had been slaughtered, she wanted him for some reason and Micah was sent off to play fetch. The only problem being that Jasper moved to England before Micah could bring him to Caroline, and when he reported this, he was handed a plane ticket too and told that if he needed any resources or possessions that they’d be sent along after him.

Irritated, he set his goal in mind and moved to England too, hoping that it would be a short trip. Didn’t take him long to track down the blue tiger, to some little hole in the middle of nowhere called Jackford. Boy, doesn’t he have his work cut out for him? [/LIST][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1] [b]Name:[/b] Jess. [b]Age:[/b] 21. [b]How did you find us?:[/b] I blame Danni AND Joe.

[b]Name:[/b] Victoria Eden Moreau. [b]Nicknames & Aliases:[/b][LIST]Eden Morrison; Fake ID, obviously. Tori Babe. Vicky. Toria. Psychotic Hell-Bitch. [/LIST][b]Age:[/b] 35 [b]Date of Birth:[/b] August 7th, 1977. [b]Gender:[/b] Female. [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Heterosexual. [b]Occupation:[/b] High school PE teacher, former supernatural and occult hunter.

[b]Species:[/b] Lion. [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ERJonp0xx1s/Tnqd6kffXjI/AAAAAAAAArE/NWtjP-3SVXo/s640/002-LIONESS-RESTING%2540body.jpg[/IMG][LIST]If it looks like a lion, smells like a lion and growls like a lion, it’s obviously a domestic house cat ready to bite your face off. Victoria’s animal form is pretty average, there’s nothing remotely distinctive about her. She may look a bit ragged at time, but the large tawny gold cat is hardly going to blend in with the UK scenery no matter what. In her feline form, she weighs in at 400lbs of muscle and tamed aggression and stands at 3’6 at the shoulders. From her nose to the tip of her tail, Vic’s a pretty average 8’3. [/LIST][b]Do you have a hybrid/alpha form?:[/b] [URL=http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2010/136/b/b/__Lioness_Line_art___by_sirius_spirit.jpg]Indeed she does.[/URL][LIST]Her hybrid form is more for show than anything else, just something to give her a little extra kick when her full feline form doesn’t provide her with it. She doesn’t turn into some raging half beast, half woman form either. Standing a little taller than her human form at 5’11, and weighing in at 280lbs, she’s covered from head to toe in golden fur and looks like the perfect mix of feline and human. She has claws in this form, never forget that, and fangs, and oh! She can talk even though it’s a lot more growly than her human voice is. [/LIST][b]Rank:[/b] Adwar. [b]How long has your character been a lycanthrope?:[/b] 24 years (infected at age 9). [b]Mind-Set:[/b] Dominant. [b]Power level:[/b] Alpha. [b]Abilities:[/b] [LIST] [*] [b]Speed:[/b] Like all lycanthropes, she’s fast on her feet and can move faster than the human eye can see if she uses her alpha speed. [*] [b]Strength:[/b] She’s stronger than your normal human. She’s not the strongest lycanthrope out there due to her size, but she can go head to head with a vampire and with a bit of luck, over power them. [*] [b]Durability:[/b] Victoria can heal almost any wound like most shifters can, bar decapitation and wounds caused by fire and silver. Wounds caused by more dominant lycanthropes and vampires heal slower. Almost human slow. [*] [b]Senses:[/b] Vic has extremely acute senses like most shifters. She can sometimes tell when someone’s lying to her face by the change in the other persons scent. [*] [b]Partial Shifting:[/b] She can shift hands and teeth into those of her animal or focus on shifting into a full blown hybrid form instead of a full shift from human to lion. [*] [b]Block A Vampires Call:[/b] It takes a bit of energy on her side but she can block out the call of a vampire up to 900 years old and extend that shielding to weaker werelions. Anything over 900 hurts her too much to block. [*] [b]Shield her Beast:[/b] She can lock her animal aura away and pull off the human vibe to most lycanthropes except from stronger alphas, and in some cases, stronger Master vampires since from her experience, they can force her lion to show itself. She does this on a day to day basis when it comes to her job. [/LIST][b]Face Claim:[/b] Charlize Theron. [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://www.topnews.in/light/files/Charlize-Theron5.jpg[/IMG][LIST]Victoria isn’t that outstanding to tell you the truth. She’s almost you’re typical blonde – though she’s got a thing for dying her hair other colours at times. She’s got the curves and the legs but the eyes, they’re not human. As a result of staying in her animal form when she as younger for longer than she should, her eyes are those of her lion’s. Of course, she hides them behind hazel green contacts that she never takes out unless she has to do so, she knows better. She’s pretty slim; and only 5’9, and a half inches tall, weighing in at 140lbs of toned muscle, that it’s pretty easy to work out that she’s fond of working out and keeping fit.

She’s not one for style; Vic just doesn’t understand the appeal of having the latest fashion accessories. Of course that doesn’t mean she doesn’t splash out on things like makeup now and then, but that’s purely for work interviews, she finds it works a hell of a lot better being ‘appealing’ then being herself. Whatever works huh? She’s more comfortable in reliable jeans and t-shirts; a nice pair of boots doesn’t go amiss or a leather jacket. Since she’s hung up her hunting gear though, there are fewer holsters for weapons. When she’s at work, its sports gear. Tracksuits for when it’s cold out, shorts and polo-shirts when it’s warmer.

Identifying marks are a little easier to describe. She has her fair share of scars, though most are long since faded. The most notable ones are what look to be claw marks curving down over her right hip. They’re just three jagged lines really, and she doesn’t talk about them ever. Her second most notable scar was given to her by a hunter that thought he was being clever and had all the time in the world, he put a silver hunting knife through her shoulder and left it there so it burnt her after he’d incapacitated her. Now, she’s not a fan of big tattoos but she does have two small ones of her own. A koi fish above her right ankle, and a small flower on the top of her right foot. The flower was gotten on a whim, but the koi is supposed to represent strength, determination, and persistence in the face of adversity. The only other thing that comes to mind is that her ears are pierced twice on both sides. [/LIST][b]Weapons of Choice:[/b][LIST] [*] Fangs, claws, full blown lion form. It’s fun to get messy! [*] She rarely hunts these days, so she’s hung up her holsters. [*] She does have a butterfly knife she carries regularly. [*] Has a necklace with a small vial of holy water attached. Just in case. [*] A white gold charm bracelet with holy items from different faiths. [/LIST][b]Special Skills:[/b][LIST] [*] She used to – and still does if a hunt crops up that tickles her fancy – ingests holy water to stop vampires from taking a bite out of her. Since she hasn’t hunted anything since late 2008, it’s not going to bother any vampires unless she starts up again. [*] She knows how to fight, mostly brawling and that’s what she relies on. However she’s dabbled in Krav Maga (grade: G1), and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu (grade: Purple belt) over the last 10 years. It always surprises people when they learn this. [*] She can speak French and Italian, not fluently but enough to get by, she’s also learning German and in the future, hopefully Spanish unless she forgets. [*] Gets and knows the basics when using guns. She’s more a blade kind of girl anyway. [*] Not a half bad thief, - when she needs the money - if she does say so herself. [*] Did a three year “general” sports course followed by her PGCE and QTS. She’s pretty proud of that, so don’t knock it! [/LIST][b]Personality:[/b]  [LIST]Victoria isn’t actually that loud of a person in most respects, she’s the type of person that would rather sit and wait and have something to say rather than open her mouth and spew a bunch of pointless words just to hear the sound of her own voice. Then again, she was an ‘attack dog’ for a long time, and when you’re beat as a kid to learn how to hold your tongue, things sort of stick to you. When she speaks, she doesn’t raise her voice in anger unless it’s to get a point across – and when she does need to get a point across it’s normally accompanied by a blunt object of some sort if need be -, but she does get listened to. It just another part of whom she is, people just think she doesn’t have something to say when in actual fact; she’s just watching and waiting for a chance to pounce. She knows that she’s not the most relaxed of people, that’s for sure. However when you get past the creepy silence, she does brighten up a bit. She’s a loyal lass and keeps her word, even though she has her trust issues, but she doesn’t always think things through fully. She’s used to bulldozing her way through issues in her life, and then dealing with the fallout afterwards. Protective of what’s hers. Practical and strong willed she’s not likely to be cowed by someone playing mind games; in fact the last time someone tried that, she broke their arm without blinking.

She even smiles, though it’ll often be accompanied with a wiseass remark or comment. It is almost like she’s care free and forgets about all the crap she’s gone through to get where she is today. She’s loving and caring, hell she even cares though it doesn’t normally come off as most would expect it from a she-cat that could snap at a moment’s notice and become a big cat. While it may look like she has no control over her animal side, she’s got it, people have assumed that she has next to none and that has been their downfall. Oh yeah, she’s more than a little mental! If you push her, she’ll push back, only most people seem to forget she’s more on the animal side then most shapeshifters are and she loves that. She’s not afraid of her animal instincts and embraces them to the point that sometimes she doesn’t want to be human anymore but then she sees what she has and pushes to be normal.

Her views on vampires are slightly [i]skewed[/i] however. Having been used by a lion calling master for years, she has a distaste for anything over a hundred years old, sure she can curb her tongue and be civil to the creatures but present her with a lion caller – even Mikhail got snapped at – and she’ll do everything in her power to make it clear that she won’t become another and she won’t allow anyone in the Pride to be one either. This can be displayed in sarcasticness, threats and violence and promises of death. She just doesn’t like the creatures that can bend her like a crazy straw if it suited them. It’s driven by fear, something she’s not exactly sure how to react to and falls back on her more comforting animal nature to deal with it. As far as the rest of the supernatural world, well, as long as they don’t try and harass the Pride or start something they can’t finish with the people she cares about then she won’t bother them. [/LIST][b]Likes:[/b][LIST] [*] Swimming. [*] A good strong drink after a hunt. [*] Taking to the country roads on her bike and just driving until she can't. [*] Making known bullies fear her. Doesn't matter if they're kids or adults or anything else. [*] Spending time in her lion form, she doesn't do it as much as she used to do so. [*] When she can surprise someone by doing something. [*] Reading when she can get five minutes peace, normally during first break at work. [*] Not being dragged into supernatural turf wars, she joined the pride to stop that. [*] Protecting the Jackford pride. Bradon Mackenzie gave her a home. [*] Chinese food. Don’t ask her why, she just does. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b][LIST] [*] Getting a ticket because she’s left her bike in the wrong place. [*] People that don't pull their own weight. You either sink or swim. [*] Being touched in lion form by people she doesn't know. She tends to bite [*] Having to clean her apartment. If it doesn't bother her, she doesn't bother it! [*] Parent/Teacher night. She'd take a feral shifter over that. [*] Doctors and medical types. Being poked and prodded? No thanks. [*] Being cornered. Have you ever seen an angry lion cornered? It's not nice. [*] Vampires that force themselves on others. It's not so bad when it’s voluntary. [*] Poor weapons maintenance. What is wrong with some people? [*] Being told she's over emotional just because she's female. [/LIST] [b]Strengths:[/b] [LIST] [*] Very familiar with her feline form, she shifts quicker because of this. [*] Doesn’t care if she gets hurt. In fact, she’d put herself in the firing line to save people she cares for. [*] Good tracking skills, urban or otherwise. [*] Isn’t easily backed down with threats and tends to laugh when they’re given. [*] Trusts her gut instinct rather than follow others unless she trusts them. [*] Loyal to people she trusts. Sometimes, even to those that just put up enough money. [*] She can hold her tongue and temper in check if she wants. [*] Knows a bit about witchcraft and the herbs used in most healing balms.   [*] Very fast and agile, good for when she’s working with heights in the gym. [*] Still has a fair few contacts from her days as a hunter that she calls up when needed. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b] [LIST] [*] She has a bit of a one track mind at times. [*] Doesn’t always notice when she’s treading on thin ice. [*] Silver. She may’ve been a lion for a long time, but that stuff still hurts. [*] Comes off antisocial at times. [*] Her anger issues tend to put a crimp in certain things. [*] She doesn't have a good grasp on that 'relationship' thing. It's been [*] Practical in a way, she won’t blink twice at putting someone down if it means protecting others. Even if she's seen as a monster afterwards. [*] Doesn't trust many people at her back. There’s like four people out of billions. [*] Tends to spend a lot of time in her lion form, pushing the limits. [*] Can rarely tame that persistent stubborn streak. [/LIST][b]History:[/b]  [LIST]Thomas and Natalie Moreau never took another hunt once they found out that they were due to have a baby together. They were hunters by blood, marriage and by trade; they did everything to stop the supernatural from infecting their ‘world’ and to keep people safe, but they would not endanger their soon to be daughter and in the august of 1977, their baby girl Victoria was brought into the world kicking and screaming like any normal babe and her parents officially hung up their weapons holsters and retired as hunters. Thomas took on a new job as a property developer that worked in and around Lancaster where they lived, and Natalie worked full time as a house wife. Together they doted on their child as Victoria grew up, giving her anything and everything that she wanted. Like any princess, she even had a pony at one point.

The happy little family however was torn apart just before Victoria’s ninth birthday, as the small farm house that the family owned was torn apart by rogue werelions and wolves, headed by a particularly vicious vampire who seemed to know all about her parents who were shocked by his apparent survival. The scariest thing of all for Victoria wasn’t that lions were everywhere or big werewolves; it was the Asian vampire Khan. The right side of his face was thick with holy water scars, the eye socket a gaping hole and mouth a jagged gash. Khan was one of the very few vampires that had ever escaped her parents, and he delighted on tearing through her mother’s mind and body as a werelion held her father back. When Khan was done with Natalie, he turned his attention to Victoria and forced a rather nasty looking lionman to tear into her young body before simply snapping her father’s neck. She should’ve died, would’ve died except werewolf alpha Jacques Rousseau had other ideas.

The wolf didn't take pity on her, far from it. When Victoria regained full consciousness now and again, she was told that she was Khan's new 'pet'. What better way to scare off hunters than by using the spawn of two fairly vicious hunters against them, it was put to her, before she was told that she had only survived because she'd contracted lycanthropy. Being a young lass, she didn't believe it. She screamed and raged and howled for her parents thinking it was a bad dream. It was only really brought home when Jacques, sick of the whelps screaming brought in a lion to teach her a lesson. Miranda was only slightly less cold than the werewolf, but under orders, she tore the beast from Victoria's body. Over and over, and over. Eventually, Victoria started to submit and forget about being who she really was and it was exactly what Khan wanted. Oh he had his pride and pack of bumbling misfits that had been thrown from their various clans for treasonous acts or for having broken the law, be he didn't have one animal at his command that would do simply as he asked, no if's buts or maybes.

By age 14, Victoria was a feral but suitably tamed little lion. She would sit pretty for Khan when he wanted to make a point in a business deal and she’d attack when given the order. Her first real kill wasn’t a goat or even a chicken; it was a frail old woman that owed Khan housing rent for staying in a housing complex he owned. Victoria snapped her neck and left her body where it dropped much to Khan’s displeasure and as a punishment she was put in the fight rings that one of his acquaintances ran. She tried her best, she really did. She’d gone from a pampered princess as a human, to a killer. Her fall from grace was bloody and violent and was brought to a sudden stop when she was put face to face with a full grown adult and alpha lion in the ring. She survived, but was sold on for being a failure to Master Khan and everything that she had been trained to hold dear.

After being past from vampire to vampire, and even the occasional knowledgeable human that knew of the supernatural and dabbled, Victoria ended up on a black market of sorts, nothing but a lost cause. She was stuck in a small cage for days, surrounded by other troubled souls such as herself, left to starve and in filth. Supernatural species of all shapes and sizes came and went sold off to the highest bidder as slaves that worked, fucked and various other things or prey for something else altogether. She even had a plan; she was going to attack the first handler she could get her hands on and hopefully have one of them kill her. Except, instead of a handler that came through the backstage area, it was something else entirely. He was young enough if a little older than herself, he was scared going by his scent, and he was…attractive for a human stumbling around in the dark. He changed her life the moment she had his scent. He left her alone in a loading bay however, such a hero for being forced into a nightmare of a fairy tale.

Free of the life she knew, Victoria did something that went against everything that had been beaten into her. She ran. For over two years she lived wild and on the move, most of her time in lion form and when she had to return to human form, she stole what she needed to survive on her own. Clothes from washing lines, food from market stalls if a hunt failed and the like, she even went as far for a while as to steal and fence property for money even though she never really needed it. However it worked out for her, though when she noticed that her eyes had stuck as those of her lions, she made it a personal mission to stay in human form more and more to get used to that form again. She even tried to talk to people; mostly farmers or hikers that crossed into her ‘territory’ at the time.

Once she was happy that she could return to being around people, Victoria ended up in Cardiff where she befriended a young couple that had lost their children to supposed gang violence and were so down on their luck that she couldn’t not help them even though she was barely considered an adult herself at the time. What the couple didn’t know was that it was supernaturally related violence that lost them their kids, so Victoria being the stereotypical cat riddled with curiosity looked into for them while she helped fight off bailiffs and other idiots that wanted to break her friends down more. She followed her gut instincts and tracked down the people that had been known as suspects in the community. It was teens mostly, desperate to rebel against the rules that their parents had set down but then she hit a lucky break, a werefox informant came forward to talk to her. Well, it was more warn her away from snooping because things would get ‘unpleasant’. She threw that fox out of a second story window… and then went back to searching.

It took her a year and she was roughly eighteen when she found the person that had ordered her ‘friends’  children be removed – her cat had claimed them as Pride even though she hadn’t known them long at all – and was marginally surprised to find out that it was a werelion male. The dominance battle was brutal; she was only a young woman and not used to the fighting the male easily won and inserted his dominance over her, claimed her as his ‘mate’ even though she’d clawed on of his eyes out with her own fingers. It was a huge leap and all that was really expected of her was to open her legs, be a submissive little waif of a woman that cowered behind the big bad lion. Well, she did as what was expected of her and after he was finished removed his head from his shoulders using the element of surprise. She disbanded the males operation – yes, in some cases she used violence – and the money that had been going towards other things, she sent to her friends before vanishing.

Bouncing around the UK for the next four years, Victoria picked up odd hunts here and there. A fey running a coven of witches and assuming Godhood over a town was dealt with, a Naga in Devon was told to move on because he’d started a turf war with the local snake clan. It was silly stuff really but the payment was ok. She managed to grab a job on an international freighter headed for America, and by the time she was 22 she landed her rear in Flordia. No papers, no money that she could spend easily, she was effectively back to when she was released from that cage by the scardy cat of a boy. It didn’t last long, America was so different and there was a lot of supernatural activity as well as human crime. She made her way as a supernatural bounty hunter of sorts, and not the legal kind most of the time. She was a monster hunting monsters, ironic huh?

Twenty three years old, she was still roaming the USA like she had done in the UK. Only this time she was more well off; and while she wanted to settle down somewhere she couldn’t unless she contacted the Pride that controlled that area. From what she’d seen since she’d actually come to the States, was that most of the USA Lions were a mite traditional, meaning that it was the woman’s job to do all the work. Since she had no interest of being a Pride gofer, she just spent her time on the road, staying in motels for a week or so or squatting in old properties. That’s when she got an interesting hunt, and came across someone she’d never thought to see again. Jothial Chapman. The little boy that had freed her had filled out, he was a man now and if she hadn’t got up close and personal to catch his scent, she wouldn’t have really known that it was him.

Stubborn male pressed her buttons though, and rather than outright kill him, she threw him through a wall and opened herself up to attack from the beast that she was hunting. She almost lost her life that night, and would’ve done so if her lycanthropic healing hadn’t worked its wonders on her battered body. She watched as Jo blasted the creature to nothing but ash and cinders before she even hinted that she knew him. Of course, it came out that she was a werelion and a hunter, and he was a bit iffy about the fact in her mind. Victoria expected him to kill her for being evil, instead they teamed up together and took on the evil that thought it could get past the Witch and the Lion.

They were together a year, hunting monsters that broke the laws of various things, putting themselves in the line of danger. What she failed to act on was the feelings that had stirred in her by being in close quarters to Jo. She never acted on them because she didn’t know how even though they were pretty intimate. She gave him and his creepy familiar the space and time they needed and Jo gave her the same thing. Honestly, Victoria would’ve said something sooner if she hadn’t made herself visible to a vampire that could control lions in the area. The last time she saw Jo was he was drooling into his motel pillow and that marked the end of that. She vanished without a trace using every means necessary to avoid detection. She hadn’t left him out of anger or anything; she’d left him because she was scared that the vampire would use her against him.

She ran from one vampire and lions and into another vampire, and ironically it was another lion caller a year or so later. This one was different though, he was older than anything she’d come across and Mikhail seemed just as surprised that she was a lion working as a bounty hunter. Victoria found herself drawn to this one, he didn’t abuse his people and he claimed New York as his city. Rather than run off again or try and kill him, Victoria struck up a bargain with the vampire master. She’d work for him as security and a hunter if she was needed as long as he didn’t try to call her and bend her to his will. Mikhail agreed and they went their separate ways for awhile. While in New York City, Victoria settled down in her first real apartment. She didn’t want to run anymore, but she had no idea what to do. Making that apartment as her base of operations, she spent the next few years learning how to be normal. She got a job, went to night school, made a few friends that weren’t anything that she was used to. They were simply normal. She did get called in to do some hunts for Mikhail every now and then, but they were neither here nor there.

Then in 2005, she returned to the UK after saying goodbye to Mikhail and the lions that she’d grown used to more confident in herself and happy enough. There was an ulterior motive for her return though; Mikhail wanted her to pass through a place called Jackford every now and again to make sure one of his fledglings in the local Kiss was doing ok and rather than argue or brush him off with a smile and a nod, Victoria agreed on the understanding that she wouldn’t tie herself to one place for so long unless he helped her out finding a reason to stay. By the end of July ’05 she was studying to become a Physical Education teacher after a brief course as a teaching assistant at primary school in York - which wasn't that far from Jackford so it suited her - but maybe she should’ve been clearer in what she wanted huh? She didn't stay there for long and by the end of 2010 she was a full-fledged teacher working at Jackford’s comprehensive high school teaching children about sports and how to stay healthy three days a week and spending the rest of the week bouncing between Pride duty and her own time, which she used as time to search for the odd hunt to keep her claws sharp and she's stayed there ever since ducking and dodging the crazy that was worse than her. [/LIST][/SIZE]

[b]Name:[/b] Jess. [b]Age:[/b] 20. [b]How did you find us?:[/b] Ummm...

[b]Name:[/b] Alexander-James White. [b]Nicknames:[/b] [LIST] [*] AJ White. [*] Alex. [*] Prat Prince. [/LIST][b]Age:[/b] 28. [b]Date of Birth:[/b] August 31st, 1984. [b]Gender:[/b] Male. [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Bisexual.   [b]Occupation:[/b] Bar tender at Club Hell and food for vampires that call the underground complex home.

[b]Animal:[/b] Wolf. [b]Animal Description: [/b] [IMG]http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lyc8izHx2B1r6bovho1_500.jpg[/IMG][LIST]In wolf form, he’s powerfully built there’s no denying that.  With a dense fluffy mottled grey, white and black coat, he looks nothing like your average dog in this form, but from a distance, he can pull off looking like a husky, especially if he wears a collar. He doesn’t wear a collar though, and his amber eyes give away a human intelligence that no normal mutt could. He weighs in at 180lbs in this form, a large 6’5 inches in length from nose to tail tip and stands 31 inches tall at the shoulder. [/LIST][b]Do you have a hybrid/Alpha form?:[/b] [URL=http://static.open.salon.com/files/werewolf_21252782517.jpg]ALPHA FORM[/URL][LIST]His alpha form is what he calls his ace in the hole. Standing tall at 6’9 feet tall and weighing 400lbs, this shaggy beast can be a little intimidating, but only just a little when he’s up close and personal. The dense grey and black coat covers him from head to toe, with the lighter white patches spanning across his chest and belly. He’s not one of those Hollywood werewolves either, even if there are claws, and paws where hands and feet should be, a bushy tail and a muzzle packed full of fangs. A.J’s perfectly capable of talking in this form and not a mindless monster. Capable of talking, that is, if you can understand what he’s saying under the growling tone. [/LIST][b]Rank:[/b] Suttung. [b]How long have you been a lycanthrope?:[/b] 12 years. (Infected at age 14) [b]Mindset:[/b] Dominant enough. [b]Power level:[/b] Alpha.

[b]Face Claim:[/b] Bradley James. [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lfsx48zc121qgozudo1_r1_500.jpg[/IMG][LIST][i]Height:[/i] 6’1 [i]Weight:[/i] 165lbs [i]Eyes:[/i] Icy blue. [i]Hair:[/i] Blonde.   [i]Build:[/i] Lean but toned, oh yes. [i]Visible marks:[/i] Alexander has a nasty looking bite scar in the crook of his elbow from where the werewolf that infected him, managed to get a good hold and tear into his arm. He’s thinking about getting a tattoo, but he isn’t sure what one he wants yet. He has a small birthmark on his left hip and that’s about it. [i]Style:[/i] Well, if it’s comfortable he’ll wear it. It doesn’t matter to him really, but he does try to make whatever he pulls on in the mornings, look good be it raggedy jeans and a t-shirt or something else all together. [/LIST][b]Special Skills:[/b][LIST] [*] He’s a good listener; it comes with the job of being a bar tender. [*] Got a way with the local wolf callers, he’ll come to them willingly as long as don’t force him to shift. [*] Good with blades, oh yes he is. His father made sure of this from an early age. [/LIST][b]Personality:[/b][LIST]AJ is just your typical lad, from a typical snobby family maybe, but typical nonetheless. Sure he may come off a little distant at times, but that’s only because he has no idea of what to say or do at times. It doesn't mean that he doesn't try and muddle on, even when moments like that crop up. It's just what he does, moves on with things, really. He’s a bit loud of course, likes to do things his own way when and if he can, and if he has to, he’ll follow other peoples lead as long as they’re decent at leading.

There is the odd chance that he won’t actually follow someone’s lead and that’s when he thinks or knows that whoever’s trying to get him to follow is a complete and utter idiot. People with an ounce of sense rattling around in their heads, he’ll give them a chance, those that don’t have two brain cells to rub together can wander off and get themselves hurt. That would probably explain his trust issues, he’s never had a father or anyone really stable in his life so he’s not likely to go out and open up his heart or put a noose around his neck for just anyone.

Despite the odd occasional trust issue, he’s a natural born leader. He says and does what he wants, and isn’t easily put into a spot that forces him to do the complete opposite. You could say that he was loyal to what he believes in, loyal to the few real friends that he does have and if his father ever decided to welcome him back and accepted his werewolf side, AJ would be a loyal and loving son to him too. Even with his few issues, he’s a pretty easy kind of guy. Good to have at your back in a fight, polite and if he pushes himself, could charm the birds out of the trees.  

AJ likes to have a laugh, even if his actions get him into trouble, it doesn’t mean that life has to be such a drag that he has to be so serious all the damned time. Let’s not forget that when he isn’t being a good mate, or a listener to some drunk at work, he can be – at times – idiotic, bull headed, brash, annoyingly whiny and a multitude of other things that I’m sure Danny will tell you all about. [/LIST][b]Likes:[/b][LIST] [*] Hanging out with friends after work. [*] Horse riding! He does actually spend time at the local stables. [*] Having someone he can trust at his back. [*] Orange juice in the mornings. [*] Not getting caught up in local gossip. [*] Werecats, when they aren't being annoying. [*] Helping the pack whenever he can. [*] Relaxing in the tub once in a while. [*] Vanilla ice cream. [*] Running in the morning. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b][LIST] [*] People that can’t take a joke in any form. [*] Needless fighting. [*] Having to sit things out. He has to find ways around things quickly. [*] Late nights, followed by early mornings. [*] Werewolf flicks. It’s good to see how people have messed up. [*] The ideas of being a submissive to anyone. [*] Idiots in the pack. They make him growl. And then snarl... [*] Clingy women. [*] Getting ignored or talked over. It really makes him…whine. [*] People bringing up his parents or his family. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b][LIST] [*] Bull-headed at times. Totally charges into things without thinking. [*] Doesn't trust people unless they prove themselves. [*] Wounds from other alpha weres heal slowly, almost human slow. [*] A pretty face can kill him every time. [*] Using his alpha form repeatedly uses up too much energy. [*] He doesn’t know how to show his appreciation properly. Or much emotion for that matter. [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b][LIST] [*] Listens to people before making his mind up. [*] Defiantly stubborn at times. [*] Loyal. No mutt jokes thank you very much. [*] Potential leadership qualities.   [*] A good tracker in both wolf form and human form. [*] He knows when to ‘retreat’ when there’s a need for it. [/LIST][b]Family:[/b] [LIST] [*] Father: Colin White: 57 yo: Alive. [*] Mother: Angela White: 49yo: Deceased. [*] Stepmother: Bridget White: 55yo: Alive. [*] Half Sister: Lenora White:  18yo: Alive. [*] Step Brother: Jeffery White: 13yo: Alive. [*] Grandmother: Janet Ashton: 67yo: Alive. [/LIST][b]History:[/b][LIST]He’s a London born brat that’s had no real purpose in his life until he was infected with werewolf lycanthropy and managed to pull himself away from his ‘family life’, but if you insist, I guess I have to tell you his life story. In that Readers Digested, condescended version, anyway. What? I don’t want to bore you to death after all.

Born in the Autumn of ’84 to Colin and Angela White, what was supposed to be a happy day for the White’s was short lived as mere hours after Alexander James was born into the world, Angela suffered from an unforeseen side effect of the drugs she’d been given during labour. It was a joyous day, and a devastating one all at the same time. Alexander was left without a mother and Colin without a wife, and for the babe, while it didn’t impact him then it certainly shifted the way Colin viewed his boy subconsciously. If AJ hadn’t been born, he’d still have had a loving wife, but that was just the way the cookie crumbled. It wasn’t like his father would abandon him though, much, even if he had been born into a one man’d blue blood family.

Growing up without a mum wasn’t that bad, at least that’s what Alexander thought all the time, as he did the things that normal kids did. Went to school, made friends, had silly little one hour crushes that lasted through the lunch time break only to die when he went back to class. At the end of each day though, when he walked to the gates of the primary school he attended, watching the kids get collected by beaming mothers with buggies and dogs, Alexander always felt a bit jealous and he threw temper tantrums in the Lexus on the way home with only the chuffer or maid that picked him up to try and talk him down from it before they got home. Most of the time, it worked, and some times it didn’t, and Colin caught wind of it.

Bless Colin’s heart, he did try to be a good dad – and yeah, he failed epically – to see what A.J wanted so those anger issues took root and became steadily worse as he got older. There was that typical rebellion stage when he hit his early teens. The thing that really stuck in the youngster’s craw was that around the time of his fourteenth birthday, his father brought along some woman, Bridgit, that he’d been seeing and with her, these two younger kids and his future siblings, Lenora and Jeffery. A.J didn’t like it, didn’t like them and he certainly didn’t like the fact that his father had ‘ruined’ his fourteenth birthday. After all, it was just supposed to be them camping in the Lake District and he took off from the rented cabin without so much as a ‘may I be excused?’.

Probably shouldn’t have done that, in retrospect. The lad didn’t answer his phone when his father blew it up with voicemail, nor did he turn back when it started to get cold and then rain, nor did he stop when it got dark. He just kept going. Now, when you grew up watching horror movies with the staff that his father employed on the family estate, the moment the werewolf howl cut through the early night, the first thing that came to his mind was the older and uber scary movie, [i]An American wolf in London[/i]. And then he did something even more stupid then not calling his father and asking to be picked up, he ran out of the woods he’d been walking in and out into an open field with a freshly bitten werewolf following on his heels. [i]Beware of the moon, and stick to the path.[/i] You don't say...

Well, like you’d expect from any wild animal, the attack was very messy. There was no nip on the leg like some would expect. The newly turned lycanthrope tore into the boy leaving him at deaths door, the pack that came out of the woodwork did all they could do to help him, even had the resident witch and her apprentice step in and try and help A.J while the Ulfric got the other wolves under control and somewhere else very far away from the two witches and the teenager knowing that if A.J survived, then the kid would be changed for life.

It was touch and go for a few days, but when A.J finally came around; he found his father sat beside his hospital bed, crying his eyes out over the idea of losing his boy. There was no sight of Bridget or her kids, and in a twisted round about way it was nice. Shocking, but nice. And Alexander had no idea what to do next expect heal up and work from there, hell, he didn’t trust his fathers new found emotions and to top it off, the moment he could move without being helped by a nurse, Bridget was back and he was shocked to find out that while he’d been in hospital, his father had grown smitten for this woman and had proposed. It was enough to knock down Alexander; he didn’t have the strength to fight his father and some woman with her own baggage. Less than a month later, Bridget Banks became his step mother and legal guardian should something happen to his father. It was so lame!

What was even worse, with his new mother - he flat out refused to call her mum like she insisted - he started to feel different. Like there was something under his skin, waiting for the right moment to come out of hiding and take on the world. His shrink put it down to the emotional trauma of a wild animal attack and the new addition to the family, but he wasn't convinced. So the typical teenager angst hid what was really going on until one night, he excused himself from dinner intending to go to bed early...And he passed out...Only to wake up naked in the forest not far from the house, with a stranger stood over him. That did not go down too well, considering the guy was naked too and looked like he’d been dragged through a hedgerow backwards.

Before Alexander could freak out, the other werewolf told him about what had happened. How he'd been sent to watch out for him since his release from the hospital. AJ was also told that werewolves were real, and so were vampires and everything else that came straight from the fairy tales. The coolest thing – in retrospect, he knew that he should have been shocked – that he learnt was that he was a werewolf too. The only snag in that train of thought was that he had to tell his father, but Quincy, the other werewolf, said that he didn’t have to if he didn’t want. The pack would help him out behind the scenes until AJ was ready to tell his dad. That made A.J’s day, and he accepted the deal.

However, he didn’t tell his family until he was eighteen and thinking about moving out of the family house. By that time, he had a pretty good handle on his wolf too, thanks to help from the local pack. At first his dad thought it was a joke, some elaborate prank for attention, and even went as far as demanding proof and AJ just couldn’t do it to him. He apologized for taking up his father’s time and went back to hunting for a place to live. He found it in the unlikeliest place, some city in the North called Jackford, it sounded vaguely familiar. After tossing the name out casually one evening during dinner, and was surprised to learn that his birthmother had come from there, and that his grandmother still lived there. He didn't even think that his father had known what he'd been saying until Alexander didn't speak up again after that little revelation.

Well, not until seven months later when he was packing up his jeep and on the way to Jackford, already having been in contact with the local Ulfric, Joel, and his grandmother.   At nineteen years old, the world outside of something that he’d known most of his life was a big place but he managed to get a room at the Kiss’s compound under the promise that he’d give blood and work for his keep. He agreed, and to make things better, his gran didn’t seem to mind much either. She was cool with him being a werewolf; he’d told her that the first time he’d talked to her over the phone. Things really were starting to look up for him. They’ve been pretty good times ever since he rolled into town. AJ’s been a long standing member of the pack, met some pretty good mates and keeps his head down unless there’s trouble and just gets on with his life.

His father still hasn’t accepted that he’s a werewolf to this day; denial is a strong emotion after all. However, it isn’t like he can change what he is. He still expects his dad to sit him down and try and turn a conversation around, as if he’s got some kind of curable disease and if he stops being a werewolf, he can just be normal. Yeah, and pigs will fly. [/LIST]

[SIZE=1][b]Name:[/b] Jess [b]Age:[/b] 22 [b]Wow:[/b] Last one for a long time.

[align=center][IMG]http://26.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lz9ajl5XZq1qe3aixo1_250.gif[/IMG][/align]

[b]Name:[/b] Imogen Johanne Holt. [b]Nicknames & Aliases:[/b] [LIST] [*]Imo, Imp. [*]Russian alias: Darya Gretchenko. [/LIST][b]Age:[/b] 33. [b]Date of Birth:[/b] October 10, 1978 [b]Gender:[/b] Female [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Heterosexual. [b]Occupation:[/b] Art curator and historian.

[b]Animal Species:[/b] Crow [b]Animal Description: [/b] [IMG]http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/app%20pics/Crow.png[/IMG] [i]Weight:[/i] 1lb. [i]Height:[/i] (from bill to tail) 19 inches; wingspan 31 inches. [i]Coat:[/i] Black plumage. [b]Do you have a hybrid/alpha form?:[/b][LIST]Imogen is just slightly taller in her alpha form than she is in her human form, standing at 5’11, and weighing just a ‘little’ heavier at 200lbs. [URL=http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/app%20pics/cc9darticle-0-0E8C34C400000578-491_306x462.jpg]Her (not an exact replica)[/URL] alpha form, for lack of better words, is a beautiful cross between a giant black bird and a human – as she’s covered from head to toe in black feathers in this form - with scaled clawed feet. Unfortunately, in this form she doesn’t have arms as they recede into morphed wings, but she makes do with the talons and the wicked beak she gains in this form. [/LIST][b]Rank:[/b] Kelda. [b]How long has your character been a lycanthrope?:[/b] Life, shifted at age 9. [b]Mindset:[/b] Dominant. [b]Power level:[/b] Alpha.

[b]Face Claim:[/b] Jodi Lyn O’Keefe [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/app%20pics/imogen.png[/IMG] [i]Height:[/i] 5’10. [i]Weight:[/i] 150lbs. [i]Eyes:[/i] Vivid blue. [i]Hair:[/i] Black. [i]Build:[/i] Average with all the right curves. [i]Visible marks:[/i] Ears are pierced, and she also has a [URL=http://virustattoo.com/data/media/2/foot-and-ankle-tattoos-300x175.jpg]small[/URL] tattoo on her left foot and ankle. [i]Style:[/i] Depending the occasion, Imogen can often be seen in formal business suit or dress with a splash of casual to mix things up. Unlike her sister who’s a fashionista, Imogen isn’t that big into fashion but if and when she finds something she likes then she’ll roll with that. To the left of her belly button, she has a jagged scar, barely two inches big, where she was repeatedly stabbed.

[b]Special Skills:[/b] [LIST] [*] Can speak Welsh, Romanian, French, Turkish and knows bits and pieces of Chinese, Romany and Arabic. [*] Good at working under stress, tourist season is Hell on earth. [*] Has a keen eye for fakes and originals that pass through her department. [*] Can just keep her sister from maxing out both their credit cards. [*] Hand to hand combat: She knows enough to be able to run away while the other is distracted. [/LIST]

[b]Personality:[/b][LIST]Imogen Holt isn’t really that complicated of a character to get to know, once you get past the barriers that she’s thrown up over the years. Generally, she comes off as a strong and confident woman that knows what she wants to do with her day and with the life she has. However, with that confidence, she can often come off blunter than she wants to a point, and in some cases, even brisk, bitchy and cold hearted. It’s nothing that she stresses over, however. If someone can’t take her as she is, then she won’t bother to change herself for them and will just carry on as normal and as a rule, she would rather let her actions speak louder than her words. She values honesty, loyalty and responsibility most of all, and has no patience for people that make excuses for doing something that they shouldn’t or for failing her. She has shown a certain dedication and responsibility to a lot of her goals in life. Also, Imogen isn’t a stranger to doing what is needed to be done when it comes to her safety or the safety of her family and friends.

She would rather someone respect her title if they don’t respect her as a person, and if she gets it on a personal level, then she’ll return that respect and offer loyalty in the same breath. It’s that simple to her, even if it doesn’t appear to be so simple to someone else. Imogen has a notable ruthless streak when confronted with someone that will attempt to push her buttons and discredit when she’s trying to do or anger her. She won’t devolve to the point where she threatens people or call them names, she’ll simply bide her time and strike when the other person least expects her to crop up. It’s in times like this that she has no problem hurting someone, either emotionally or physically, to make them regret wronging her. Yet, in saying that, there have been occasions where she’s come to offer an olive branch in a truce or help in some manner under the guise of being a heartless bitch. This proves that she’s also patient, compassionate and careful to a degree.

She has a few people in her personal and close circle that she can trust with anything and expect complete honesty or whatever else she may need. One of them is her sister, Freyja, her baby sister. Even though she knows that Frey can handle herself and her own affairs, Imogen is extremely protective of her sister and is willing to put everything she has on the line to make sure that Frey is safe and sound, and yes that even includes her own life if she has to. The same could be said for the other people that have made it into the small circle, as they’re more than friends to her, they’re like close family even if they don’t share blood with one another. She offers everyone a chance to trust her and get respect that everyone deserves, but there’s only one chance with Imogen. A second chance would only come about if there was something mutually beneficial to be gained on one side.

Anger isn’t something that drives Imogen, yes it has its uses on occasion, but it’s not a dominating force in her life. However, when pushed beyond the point of no return, Imogen has a fiery temper that strips down her control and leaves it in ashes. When pushed to this point, she can be vindictive and volatile, it doesn’t matter. She aims to hurt people, to push them away from her. There’s no distinction that marks people as friend or foe, there’s just her and ‘them’. These outbursts leave her questioning herself in an attempt to lock away the certain aspects that pushed her to losing her control in the first place. She’ll become reclusive and quiet, and may even retreat into herself for a time before bouncing back the same as ever.

While she may not seem the type, Imogen has a charitable side – she’s donated to many organizations and fundraisers over the last few years - and a fun side. She likes having a drink and relaxing, and while a walk in the park or seeing a play isn’t exactly the type of things most of her friends like, she keeps a lot of her personal activities to herself to enjoy alone. It’s not that she’s a secretive person, she just hasn’t found someone that she can enjoy things with like that. Her self-control is rather unnerving sometimes, and the same could be said about herself reliance. These are the major barriers that she’s thrown up to keep herself safe from being hurt on an emotional level. She let her heart get in the way of her head before, and it cost her years without her sister as well as a man she thought that she loved. Trust on an emotional level such as that; is pricey and Imogen isn’t sure that she’s ready to pay that price a second time around. Some would say that she’s scared of an emotional attachment like this. Some people have even said that she fears losing her control, her ability to decide her actions. They would be right, even if she strongly denies such a thing.

Imogen is a bit of a tradionalist at heart when it comes to the Myrde. She believes that people should be conscious of their actions when it affects other, be they alpha, beta or omega. For example, should one of her group insult a member of another group, she’ll gladly offer the offender to the offended, as an example to others who think that pulling the same thing would be fun and healthy. She’s not going to endanger the wellbeing of the Myrde by having irresponsible halfwits running around claiming that they’re protected. She won’t constantly hold anyone’s hand either, because she doesn’t have the patience to deal with every little issue that someone has when common sense could easily step in and do the job for her. As a personal preference, she would rather gift the ranks within the Myrde than have someone simply claim them. It’s not because she doesn’t trust other crows to do a good job, it’s because she wants the Myrde to survive as a whole, rather than cripple itself. They’re still counted as kin to Imogen however, and that means she’ll do her best to make sure that they’re looked after and protected. [/LIST][b]Likes:[/b][LIST] [*] Flying. [*] Naturally, her sister. [*] Gummi sweets. [*] Bubble baths. [*] Respect for her postion, if not for herself. [*] Warm weather. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b][LIST] [*] Wolves. [*] Stupidity. [*] Her sister put in harms way. [*] Flying in the rain. [*] Noisy neighbours. [*] Not making it home before dawn. [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b][LIST] [*] Not governed by the moon for shifting. [*] Negotiation. [*] Keen eye for detail. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b][LIST] [*] Her sister, Freyja. [*] Can't block a vampire's call (950 and older). [*] Typical lycanthrope weaknesses. [/LIST][b]History:[/b][LIST]In the autumn of nineteen seventy eight, Imogen Holt was brought into the world, much to the delight of Eira and Greyfell. The Holts were not your average couple, and even though the supernatural community of Cardiff, Wales was appealing, the wedded crows wanted no part of it and they made sure that Imogen had no part of it either from the moment she drew her first breath. Oh, they weren’t ashamed of what they were, far from it actually, they just didn’t want to draw attention to themselves as they had no clan to call their own and they attempted to teach Imogen about the different species out there by themselves, hiding the truth of reality behind fanciful stories. For five years, Imogen was a generally happy child who wanted for nothing if her parents could provide it, but things came to a grinding halt when one afternoon she was taken out of her class with her home tutor by her father and brought face to face with a baby sister, who she was told was called Freyja and little did Imogen know just how close she would become to her sister. Another reason why the Holt’s kept their girls away from the supernatural was because they moved around a lot; they saw no point in it when they would only have to move on again within months.

As it was, they only stayed in Cardiff for another three years before they relocated to Newport, where things carried on as normal for a year. It wasn’t until the November after Imo’s ninth birthday that something happened that her mother had warned her about ever since she could remember. Her first shift tore through Imo like a hot knife through butter, the pain was so immense that she slept for a full twenty four hours after the transformation and the only proof that anything happened was that her parents were a little emotional. The moment that Imo could move without tripping over her own feet, she hurried to tell Freyja all about what had happened like any talkative girl would, and over the course of the week, she would come back to her sister with nifty bedtime stories about flying that she spun from the flashes of memory she retained as a bird and from what her father had told her of their trips out. It was the only way that she could think of to share such an amazing experience with her sister without causing some kind of rift between the two siblings.

They moved again one year later, across the Bristol Channel they sailed, only to end up in Bristol, England. The plan was to stay there until Freyja was old enough to shift, but one night Imo crept downstairs to find Greyfell warning off a nasty looking male on their doorstep. It was her mother that took the time to explain to her, that the male that had visited was a recruiter from the local Myrde, looking for strong men like Imogen’s father to fight in a war against ‘bad things’. So, they moved again and within the span of twelve months, they had settled in four different places and each and every time, they had had to move for one reason or another that their parents would not share. Their last stop in the United Kingdom was in Ipswich, when Imogen was twelve and Freyja was a fragile seven years old. For a brief time, it looked like this would be the last move for the family as their parents knew that they couldn’t keep dragging their children from pillar to post. However, Ipswich was only a stop gap, and within a handful of months they moved much farther than anyone would’ve dreamed.

Bucharest, Romania.

The troubles that had haunted the family seemed to vanish into nothingness and things appeared to get better. The need to relocate every few months became a thing of the past, as Bucharest became home but it wasn’t until they saw their second year there, that Imogen truly called it home. Like they had been in the United Kingdom, the sisters were home-schooled, but unlike before, both were allowed a certain amount of freedom that they’d never had before. Since Freyja hadn’t shifted yet at the time, Imogen attempted to keep her shapeshifting escapades to a minimum so she wasn’t continuously dragging her sister home for something that she couldn’t participate in. Of course she still told Freyja stories of how the world looked through a birds eyes, it had become an odd tradition, one of a few constants in their life that they needed. Much like Freyja did in her spare time, Imogen also attempted to make friends with the local kids in their area, though Imogen herself looked a little farther than Freyja, however at the end of the day the only certain thing was that no one could replace Freyja as Imogen’s best friend.

It wasn’t that long after Freyja’s ninth birthday that the sisters became closer. As she was the first one to discover her baby sister passed out cold and dead to the world, she made damn sure to be the first one that she saw when she woke up. When her parents attempted to pry into the sister’s feathered little secret, as at the time they had been out getting groceries and had come home to find the house suspiciously quiet, Imogen did what came natural and backed her sister up. She lied to them and claimed that Freyja had eaten something bad and that she wouldn’t be down until the next day. Thankfully, and much to Imogen’s shock, Eira and Greyfell seemed to believe it and left the sisters be. It was later that night when Imo snuck back into Freyja’s room that she managed to poke a little more information from the younger girl, and when Imogen was informed that Frey had suffered intense pain beyond words that things fell into place. Just like Imogen a few years before, Freyja had been caught unawares and had unprepared for her first transformation from human to crow, and in an attempt to calm Freyja down, Imogen explained to her sister, what had likely happened to her. She expected Freyja to laugh it off, but thankfully, her little sister seemed to take it to heart.

Over the course of the next few weeks, things were oddly subdued in the Holt household. Gone was the laughter that echoed through the halls in the evening, only to be replaced by silence or the hushed conversations that their parents tried to hide from them. Neither girl was stupid enough to believe that things were fine, and unlike Freyja who would poke and prod at their parents, Imogen took a different route in an attempt to figure out what was wrong. She kept her mouth shut and attempted to play things off as if they had never changed when around her parents in an attempt to get them to drop their guards and explain what was wrong; and it was only in private with Freyja that she could relate her own feelings and concerns. Yet there was nothing that either girl could do, they were trapped in the proverbial calm before the storm and even though Imogen didn’t voice it, she had a feeling that whatever was wrong, was bad enough to alter their lives forever.

Despite the fact that neither of their parents had told them what was wrong; things continued as normal as possible. Imogen put on a brave face and shrugged things off; however, the mask was torn away a few months later when she felt an odd in the pit of her stomach. The sensation moved, it crawled along her spine and spread under her skin before it was cut off completely. Greyfell and Eira had blocked the call of a Master Vampire, a Croweater, and had ensured that both girls stayed safe for just a little longer. It was Eira who attempted to subdue a persistent Freyja, as at the time, Imogen had nothing to say or suggest, and just pretended that she’d imagined the whole thing because they’d been watching a boring show on TV. It was enough for Greyfell and Eira to believe that they would only need to lie to Frey, rather than both girls. Imogen’s solitude was brought down around her ears the following day when Freyja barged her way into her bedroom and demanded that Imogen help her to find out what was so important that their parents had to hide the truth from them. At first, Imogen had been hesitant, boarding on annoyed by the idea of going against her parents, but after a little more begging and pleading from Freyja, Imogen agreed to help her, if only to get a little peace from the blonde imp.

After a few days of no success in their search, their first clue hit them in the face when they returned from the library one afternoon. They had barely made it up the garden path when they heard raised voices from inside, and Imogen barely reacted in time to haul the younger Freyja back out of the way and out of immediate sight, as the a male stormed out of their home, growling over his shoulder at Greyfell who was mid-curse when he noticed the girls lurking. Frey immediately bounced into an interrogation; she wanted to know who the man was and why their father was shouting. Greyfell, with no patience, shut Freyja down with a few stern words and that was the last that was said on the matter for a few days. Unlike Freyja with her bold tactics, Imogen kept her head down and attempted to gain some information. Her silence paid off as less than a week after the visit, her mother pulled her to the side and told her everything she knew. She told Imogen that the male they had seen was their father’s cousin, Emillian, and that she was a crow just like they were. It wasn’t the fact that there was distant family now in the picture that scared Imogen; it was the fact that Eira also informed Imogen that they may have to move once more.

The lull that had fallen after Emillian’s visit was shattered a fortnight later as Imogen, who had been studying at the time and had dozed off, was woken up by the same skin crawling sensation and stomach jerking feeling that she’d felt before. Only this time it was worse, like thousands of spiders crawling over her skin. It made her feel dirty, but what was worse, she couldn’t help herself from responding to it, though the idea certainly was there. The Call was cut off within minutes, as Eira and Greyfell blocked the call once more, leaving a grumpy blonde sister in the living room, and an older sister sat on the stairs trying to work out the best course of action. Imo had no power against whatever had been pulling at her, and she was barely a girl, she had nothing that could help her. It didn’t take long for their parents to come up with a plan of attack however, and it was Greyfell that was the one that faced the small group of vampires lingering outside their home, while Imogen, her mother and her sister remained inside the house waiting somewhat nerviously for whatever was going to happen.

One of the vampires, a snappy Frenchman from what Imogen could understand of what he was saying, inform Greyfell that they were there on behalf of the Master of the City, a generous master, but an impatient one. The male snidely informed Imogen’s father that it was his Master’s believe that all young crows within the territory belonged to him and that it was his right to bend them to his will and mould them into objects of his own beliefs and ideas. Imogen watched from the living room window as her father vehemently protested the nonsense that the male spewed, and as another vampire stepped forward, the world slowed down dramatically and for Imogen it seemed as if everything and everyone was three times as slower as normal. She watched as Freyja bolted free of the confines of the house and start shouting at the vampires, she listened as their father demanded and shook her head as she calmly stepped up beside Freyja. She wasn’t going to let her baby sister run off with corpses! There was no way in Hell would she allow Frey to go through whatever the Master of the City planned for any crow. Silently, she watched as the Master vampire handed her father over to an enforcer within his entourage, before allowing herself to be ushered off with Freyja. Thankfully, it wasn’t until both girls were out of site that the vampire enforcer released Greyfell, and naturally both of their parents were distraught but they couldn’t go against the Bucharest Kiss.

Things changed dramatically after that, but thankfully, rather quickly. Both sisters were kept in line with the simplest of rules, if they didn’t run away or fight, then no harm would come to their parents. They were allowed within reason, to reside in relative comfort at the Master of the City’s home, and it wasn’t until she noticed that Freyja was taking more and more interest in the vampire side of things, that she finally spoke up. After everything that had happened, Imogen just wasn’t keen on making a target on either of their backs bigger. It was after a small and hushed argument within earshot of Emilian, that Imogen agreed that it would best to learn as much as they could rather than languish away with nothing. So, as Freyja continued to meet with Emilian and learn about the vampires and their ways, Imogen turned her eyes to the staff that the Master had. She had never seen so many Crows in one place, let alone wolves and leopards that belonged to other prominent masters within the Kiss. She may’ve been young, but Imogen made it her mission to learn as much as she could about the shapeshifters that served the Bucharest Kiss, and was soon embroiled in enough drama to keep her occupied but not enough to allow someone to slip a knife between her shoulders.

Over the next few years, more and more crows were brought in. Some only stayed a few days before vanishing as if they’d never been there, and yet others stayed longer. Imogen had established countless ties with other shapeshifters and even a couple of vampires. At sixteen, she was no stranger to using deals to get what she wanted, and even though she had suffered a little when people had reneged, Imogen was all the more wiser for the slight discomfort of losing. She was still close to her chilly sister, and even though Freyja had closed a lot of herself off and was quick to anger, Imogen risked her neck on more than one occasion, for her sister. As, unknown to Freyja at the time, her temper had provoked two wolves into wanting to see her pretty little throat torn out. Being the big sister, Imogen had cornered the males and hashed out a deal. If they would leave Freyja alone, and back her against others of their species, then they could have Imogen for a night a piece. One male, Corbin, saw through her rouse easily, but the other demanded her first. True to her word, Imogen gave herself to him…Just not in the way that the wolf expected. In their embrace, she slipped a knife between his ribs and pierced his heart. Barely sixteen years old and with blood on her hands, Imo turned to Corbin as she couldn’t bring this to Freyja and she was too numb to go to anyone else. What was between her and Corbin was precious, their moments locked away in their rooms or out in the Masters grounds were the only real thing outside of Freyja that kept her from going mad. They were lovers and confidants, but they both knew that at any moment things could be turned against them and one command from a vampire could send them to a possible fate worse than death.

When Freyja was fifteen and Imogen just pushing past her nineteenth birthday, things collapsed.  One evening Freyja came bursting into her room, crying her eyes out and sobbing. It took a while for Imogen to coax what had happened out of her baby sister, but when Freyja retold everything, Imogen saw red. At the time when Frey had needed her, she had been attending to some duties another vampire had given her. In her rage, she confronted the Crow caller and demanded to know what right he had to do that to a girl and for her trouble, she watched with Freyja, as her parents were dragged into the meeting hall and Frey was ordered to torture them for her first refusal. When Freyja refused a second time, the Master shoved his power at her and tugged at her inner beast; and Imogen, enraged further, lunged at the vampire in some foolish attempt to stop it. She was knocked aside, just before she got to the vampire by none other than her lover, Corbin in wolf form. Since the Master of the City was focused on tormenting Freyja, the second in command of the Kiss had reacted. It was as if Corbin didn’t even recognize her, and when he was ordered oh so sweetly to make her scream, Imo did something she’d never done before in her life. She fled in the chaos with wolves snapping at her heels and vampires laughing. She managed to get into the grounds before the wolves cornered her with Corbin in the lead. Blood thirsty mutts, the lot of them, Imogen forced herself to see them as weaker beings than herself, humans with a disease rather than being born with the ability to transform. Rather than fight them, as the first wolf threw her into the side of a stone fountain and ignoring the pain in her shoulder and side, Imogen played them all. Playing dead, she waited for them to close in, and just as one of them darted forward for her throat, Imogen shifted into her crow form and took off to the sound of a surprised yelp as the unlucky wolf head-butted the marble of the fountain. The confusion the sudden shift caused; left the wolves tearing a piece out of each other out of confusion. However, Imogen didn’t really register that. She was numb, awake and conscious of her actions, but she couldn’t feel anything at all.

The flight north took a lot out of her. Out of Bucharest, she landed – more like collapsed – in Moldova and stayed there for a fortnight. From there, she continued north and after weeks, found herself in Moscow, Russia. With no money to her name and a death sentence hanging over her head, Imogen had no choice but to work her way up to the top from the ground. She was able to track down a snow leopard known as Dimitri, in Moscow that owed a friend of hers from Bucharest, and manage to grab a position in his butchers shop. She earned a pittance, but it was enough for her, as one night she was woken up to find a hunter from the Bucharest Kiss leaning over her. Imogen had no chance to defend herself before the vampire stuck a knife in her belly, not once, not twice, not even three times. That wasn’t the worst, as she lay bleeding, the hunter tracker told her that Freyja sent her regards and took great delight in informing her how loudly her parents screamed and cried before Frey had killed them. She passed out as a giant snowleopard broke down the door and chased the vampire off. When she woke up next, she was in bed with crows. Three extremely handsome…naked… and well-mannered men. If it hadn’t been for Dimitri sat at the foot of the bed, Imo would have freaked out, and indeed, she was on the verge of a nervous collapse as the old leopard explained the Marc, Andre and Pete had helped heal the wounds she’d taken and were responsible for saving her life. She would have laughed it off and claimed that the cat had lost its mind, but she vaguely remembered something her father had taught her when she was little, about how being around members of the same species could help, especially with skin to skin contact. Imogen didn’t have a chance to thank anyone, and sank back into unconsciousness, oddly comforted by the presence of crows. When she came around again, Imogen was alone in the room with a duffle bag of clothes in her size, an envelope full of money to get her far away, excellently forged documentation and a passport. The piesta resistance, however, was not the money and documentation, but a deadly looking hunting knife, that she could tell had silver in the blade.

Four months later she was in America, New York to be exact. Keeping her head low, she survived for years, continued in school, before moving on and  working as a curator for a mediocre art gallery and on occasion, with one of the local museums when they changed their displays. She had always had a knack design and despite everything that had happened, that hadn’t changed. She was twenty-six when her life was altered once more. She had been at work when Freyja had, as bold as brass, walked up to her. The reunion wasn’t as sweet as one would expect, Freyja was furious with her for abandoning her to the vampires, and before her little sister could drag their dirty laundry out to air in public, Imogen removed them both from the gallery and didn’t say a word until they reached her small apartment. Then the full spectrum of emotion was allowed to play out, both positive and negative reactions. Imogen let Freyja rage and growl herself down before saying her piece and it wasn’t until their parents were brought up that Imo made a point that shocked Freyja silent. If it hadn’t of been their parents, it would’ve been her. She knew it wouldn’t make Frey feel any better, but it was all she had to offer. Despite the fact that Freyja’s presence could have meant that her time was up and she would likely end up dead, as she did assume thanks to her healthy paranoia, that Frey had company waiting in the wings, Imogen made it clear that she wanted her baby sister to stay. She really didn’t need to do much persuading, as Freyja accepted the offer within moments of it leaving her mouth, and when no vampires or werewolves burst into her apartment, Imogen allowed herself to relax truly for the first time in what felt like years. For the next five years she was by her sister’s side like always as Frey studied for her undergraduate degree and encouraged her baby sister when the hard work seemed to drain all the energy out of her. When she wasn’t encouraging Freyja, Imogen was focused on her small but blooming business, and on occasion, she even worked with Freyja. It was a new leaf for the both of them.

She got a shock a year later when Freyja made a proposal that Imogen had thought she would never hear from her mouth. They had been young when they had been in the UK, really, really young. So when her sister suggested that they return to their true home, Imogen was slightly confused and a little hesitant. She grudgingly agreed however, that it may be a good idea, and a few months later, the Holt girls made their return to Cardiff, Wales. Since Frey had been a baby when they’d last been there, Imogen lead her through a lot of familiar streets and recalled a lot of fond memories. However it was their first home that really brought back the inquisitive sister that Imogen knew and loved, and she relished the chance to answer everything Frey threw at her. They used Cardiff as a stop gap for a few awhile, and it was when she noticed that Frey was starting to feel restless, that Imogen decided that they needed a new clean slate where no one knew them, their family or their past. It took them two years, but they relocated to Jackford, England. It was only when they had settled into their new lives that they noticed something [i]lacking[/i]. There were no crows in the area! Which meant one of two things to Imogen, Jackford was either Myrde-less or they’d been wiped out. After a little digging, Imogen discovered that there had been no established crow group in the area for over two centuries. The appeal of a fresh start had birthed another idea. She was going to set up a Myrde, and between that and starting her own business, perhaps she and Freyja can forget that if Imogen ever risked going to Bucharest again, that Freyja would probably be the one that would have to kill her because of the insult a silly little crow-girl had given a vampire all those years ago. [/LIST][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][b]Name:[/b] Jess. [b]Age:[/b]  22. [b]Spare space in the brain?:[/b] No.

[align=center][IMG]http://i46.tinypic.com/242h8ie.jpg[/IMG]  [/align]

[b]Name:[/b] William Kubiak. [b]Nicknames & Aliases:[/b] [LIST] [*] Birth Name: Darren William Kubiak. [*] Will, Kubiak, 'Oi, you!', Argumentative. [/LIST][b]Age:[/b] 31. [b]Date of Birth:[/b] August 10, 1981. [b]Gender:[/b] Male. [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Openly bisexual. [b]Occupation:[/b] Security for Aaru Transport.

[b]Animal Species:[/b] Polar Bear ([i]Ursus maritimus[/i].) [b]Animal Description: [/b] [IMG]http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ltovfif8Au1qzya49o1_500.jpg[/IMG] [i]Weight:[/i] 1400lbs. [i]Height:[/i] 4.5 feet at the shoulders; 10.5 feet on his hind legs. [i]Length[/i] 9.5 feet. [i]Coat:[/i] Thick and white. [b]Do you have a hybrid/alpha form?:[/b] No! [b]Rank:[/b] Rogue. [b]How long has your character been a lycanthrope?:[/b] 9 and a half years. [b]Mindset:[/b] Dominant enough. [b]Power level:[/b] Beta.

[b]Face Claim:[/b] Ben Barnes. [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/app%20pics/willbear.png[/IMG] [i]Height:[/i]  6'1 [i]Weight:[/i] 175lbs. [i]Eyes:[/i] Really dark brown, though they look black. [i]Hair:[/i] Brown and cut short. [i]Build:[/i] Slim and lean. [i]Visible marks:[/i] William has a few scars actually. The worst is a thick diagonal scar that runs from the inside of his elbow midway to his shoulder. The other notable scar is runs for two inches on the side of his right knee where he broke his leg as a kid. His only tattoo is a black [URL=http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o82/tehkawaiibunny/benbarnes02.gif]cross[/URL] on the right side of his upper chest which he got when he was younger and dumber. [i]Style:[/i] He prefers easy casual. If it’s comfy and reliable, he’ll stick with what he knows. Jeans and a t-shirt with a sturdy pair of boots are all part of his general wardrobe. However when the occasion arises, William can pull of a suit with ease. Neck ties are a no. Nay. Never.

[b]Special Skills:[/b][LIST] [*] Has a habit of switching accents between Irish and indistinguishable (area wise) British. It doesn’t help when he gets angry of course, words get shortened and the Irish accent comes back in full force. [*] Growing up in a mostly none English speaking household, William can speak, write and understand Irish Gaelic. [*] Knows how to handle a firearm, and he even has a full licence and carry permit. [*] Information Gathering. Now, he knows where to look for the [i]right[/i] information without getting scammed and sent on a wild goose chase. [*] Technologically minded. He’s good at fixing broken things and righting techie issues. [/LIST][b]Personality:[/b] [LIST]Appearances can be deceptive, can’t they? To a lot of people, William appears nothing more than a little bit cocky, a little cynical and somewhat lazy thug, with next to no self-control and a smart mouth the side of Antarctica. That’s fine with him at the end of the day, because he doesn’t really care what people think or say about him bar a few close exceptions in his life that he spends the majority of his time with. For those that don’t see what’s beneath the surface, William rarely lets that get to him for longer than five minutes or the time it takes him to fetch another beer. To them he’s an asshole and that’s as deep as it goes.

His moods dictate a lot of Will’s actions, for example if he’s with someone that he’s known for a long time, he’s likely to be more relaxed and easy going despite the situation he’s in or the conversation going at the time. However, on the other hand if he’s with someone that he doesn’t know, things can be a little uncomfortable on all sides since he doesn’t easily trust from the get-go. Like I said, it’s all about his mood at the time. He has a habit of putting up barriers to stop people from poking their nose into his business and dragging him into theirs, generally he reacts with snark and a “I don’t give a flying fuck” attitude and if that doesn’t work, he’s not above lashing out and using threats to get someone away from him. At his worst, he can be painfully blunt and to the point, say things that others would rather beat around the bush about, and be generally vicious when it comes to other people’s emotions. At his best, he can be a cheeky little flirt that will listen to people’s problems and offer some kind of solution.

William is extremely loyal to his family, there’s no doubt about that, and there’s very little that he wouldn’t do for his mother or anyone of his sisters. Even though he’s had to put up with a lot of crap from his father and been dragged into a lot of mess because of it. Despite that, he still can’t bring himself to cut ties completely with the man and remove him from his life. The loyalty stretches to others as well, like people who’ve impacted his life in a way that others haven’t been able to. These people, his inner circle of friends, lovers, whatever they happen to be, are in Will’s mind his family as well. One of his major fears is that something will take his family away from him, leaving him with nothing. It’s left him in a cold sweat before just thinking about it and he’s been left with nightmares because of someone saying that someone close to him was dead which he hasn’t gotten over. He’s a little insecure with the things that mean the most to him, but that can easily be put to bed.

William has a naturally mild rebellious temperament and often shows a desire to resist authority (and control) through generally playful gestures and words. He’s tried to bury the light-hearted playfulness over the years, but it does come out with a handful of people. He has to push people’s buttons and boundaries when he can, but it’s not always for an instantaneous effect. He’s fine with drawing things out. His general temperament and actions can be, on occasion, contradictory of themselves as underneath the playful persona, is a sadistic side that will quiet happily make someone hurt. He’s not necessarily evil, and compared to most people, he’s a saint. He just does the best he can with what he has to survive.

Just because of his don’t give a damn mentality, it doesn’t mean that Will’s incapable of anger. Sure it takes a lot to push his buttons to make him snap, but it’s possible. His temper isn’t what should worry people however; it’s the fact that he’s insanely stubborn and persistent. He’s been knocked on his ass time and time again, only to get back to his feet and that’s something that won’t ever change with him. It’s why someone needs to pull him back at times, if he gets an idea into his head he’s likely to keep on going until he’s wears himself down or gets what he wants. He’s a sly one, and smarter than he looks, often spending more time processing things that could be useful than ignoring them, it’s just another contradiction and a part of him that he puts to good use.

As he more or less taught himself how to train his other nature, William’s not inclined to care about bear groups and politics. It’s nothing on them, as he just doesn’t understand the whole hierarchy thing, though he’s more than willing to take a poke at it and try and understand it. As a rule though, he’d rather just avoid any trouble that could crop up from tying himself down to a group and live as a rogue. The way he sees it is that he’s done alright (mostly) by himself, so he doesn’t need the help and security that something like a sleuth could give.  He could care less about other supernaturals as long as they keep their nose out of his business or their fangs out of his throat.

What a bloody confusing mess he is, he’d give a therapist a nervous breakdown. [/LIST][b]Likes:[/b][LIST] [*] Cooking. It’s relaxing and it gives him some time to think. [*] Cutting the speed limits on his [URL=http://www.ducati.ms/gallery/files/3/2/8/9/1/996black.jpg]Ducati 996[/URL]. [*] People with a backbone that stand up for themselves. [*] Seeing Keegan smile, but shhhh! Don’t tell him. [*] Movie nights in. [*] His sisters. Pains in the arse some of them may be. [*] Hitting the pub after work. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b][LIST] [*] Being sent on a wild goose chase. [*] Pity Me parties. [*] People pleasers. [*] Social network sites. [*] Hot weather, but he’ll keep the bitching to a minimum.   [*] The Church. He’s a lapsed Catholic, turning ex. [*] Not such a fan of water in his eyes (or swimming or anything like that.) [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b][LIST] [*] Visual deception: He’s smarter than he makes out, yo! [*] He can look a vampire in the eyes (670yrs). [*] Is immune to most peoples taunting. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b][LIST] [*] Has to shift on a full moon, no if's, buts or maybes. [*] His mother and his sisters. There’s not much he wouldn’t do for them. [*] Sometimes needs someone to reign him in. [/LIST][b]Family:[/b][LIST] [*] Seamus Kubiak; father, mid to late sixties.   [*] Margaret Kubiak; Mother, mid-sixties. [*] Kathleen “Kathy” Kubiak; Older sister, 42. [*] Brenna Kubiak; Older sister; 37. [*] Avery Kubiak; younger sister; 25. [*] Laura Kubiak; youngest sister; 19. [/LIST][b]History:[/b] [LIST]Originally hailing from Derry, Ireland, the Kubiak family moved further south to coastal town of Kilrush in County Clare to avoid any more of the Troubles that had almost torn their family apart as it was. Just in time too, as within two weeks of settling into their new home on August the tenth, nineteen eighty-one, Margaret went into labour with her third child, Darren Kubiak. As stressful as a time as it had been, the parents where happy to have a new member of their family, but their happiness was nothing compared to their daughters, Kathleen and Brenna. The girls had been dead set on the idea of having another sister, but when they found out that they had a baby brother, they had to re-evaluate their long term plans of tea parties and such. Poor Darren didn’t stand a chance when they were asked to watch over him. Even as a toddler, Darren was smarter than most kids his age. He was up on his feet and walking by just shy of a year old and he was forming almost proper sentences only a few months after that, only resorting to actions when he couldn’t get what he wanted to say out. His mother lapped that up, but his sisters took all the credit. Unfortunately, Seamus was the only person that didn’t seem that interested in anything that was happening; oh he was happy that he finally had a son, he just wanted things to move a little faster so he could teach Darren about the real world and just how disappointing that it was going to be without ending up on the receiving end of an iron skillet from his wife. The saddest thing was, no matter how much Seamus tried to bond with Darren, the father and son never really clicked like they should have done.

A few months after his fifth birthday, young Darren got the shock of his life when Avery Kubiak was brought home from the hospital. Having a little sister was so exciting and scary at the same time, exciting because there was suddenly someone younger than him, scary because his older sisters and parents spent more time fussing around the new baby. Darren was almost jealous of the attention that Avery, to the point that it almost became obvious to everyone present at the home reception, and he would have thrown a tantrum if it hadn’t been for Kathleen taking him aside and telling him that nothing was ever going to change. He took his oldest sister’s words to heart and even though he spent a few days trying to avoid the new addition to the family while he tried to work out just how things weren’t going to change because to him, everything had changed and would never be the same again. It was the hurt and confusion that he couldn’t shake off no matter what the youngster said or did. When asked to help with looking after Avery, he went in the opposite direction as fast as he could. Sometimes however, he couldn’t shake the responsibility and grudgingly did what he had to do before escaping to his room. It wasn’t until Avery was six months old that things happened that tore the family apart for the first time. Seamus returned home drunk from the pub one night and verbally and physically attacked his wife in the kitchen for some reason only known to himself in his drunken haze. Kathleen jumped into the fray to try and break things up before someone was seriously hurt, and Brenna called the police. It wasn’t unfamiliar to the older members of the family, but listening to the chaos below them while Avery cried in her crib, Darren was terrified! Still, being the only person around to help Avery, he did all that he could to help the baby girl settle down. It was Kathy that came up what felt like days later – when it was only a few hours - to find a very tired Darren pulling funny faces and Avery giggling like there was no tomorrow.

Despite everything that his mother tried to do to make sure things ran smoothly, things had changed in the household and it wasn’t because Seamus had been kicked out of the house either. His mother was more distant and withdrawn and his sisters were nearly always tense and less than inclined to deal with their younger siblings unless forced by their mother. It almost went like this for a year, and it wasn’t until Kathleen announced that she was moving out with her boyfriend, that Darren truly snapped. While he had made more and more progress with little Avery, his attitude dramatically changed when he was anywhere else but home, and it wasn’t until the third letter from his school and a home visit from his teacher that Darren was dropped off on his father’s doorstep, back in Derry and left there after his mum had finally called it quits and had enough and – Darren would always remember her exact words – told him that she “needed a break” and thought that it would be best if he went to live with his father for a while. The last time that he’d seen Seamus, he’d been a scared boy with no idea as to what was happening. Now, he couldn’t care less about the older male. He didn’t think of Seamus as his father anymore, he thought of him as a bully that preyed on women. Still, he had nowhere else to go since he’d been left hundreds of miles from his home. Seamus didn’t seem that happy either, but he made do and put Darren in the spare room after warning him from touching anything that didn’t belong to him. Barely eight years old, more or less alone and feeling abandoned; Darren did the only thing that he could do given the circumstances. He did as he was told. In a roundabout way he did want some kind of connection with his father, but at the same time, he couldn’t forget what Seamus had done. Things didn’t get much better in the following days, it was as if Seamus barely knew he existed unless they were in the same room or he was tossing Darren a bag of chips from the local chip shop, and Darren was happy with that.

Even though it had originally been planned for Darren to stay with Seamus for six weeks, when the day rolled by that he was supposed to come home, Darren was sorely let down when Kathleen came and dropped off some more of his stuff. Apparently his mum had been sick and Brenna was left with Avery to look after, but Kathy was staying for a while because she missed her baby brother. It seemed that Darren wasn’t the only one that didn’t trust Seamus after all, and with a second child under his roof, Seamus started to crack under the parental stress. He did try though, under Kathleen’s watchful eye, Seamus did attempt to get to know them again as their father. It became more than apparent that Seamus couldn’t be a father though, after one nasty dispute with Kathleen over something hilariously stupid from most people’s perspective, Seamus turned around and bulldozed right into Darren, throwing the young boy back awkwardly and hard enough that in the fall, the kid broke his arm. Less than a week later, with his arm in a cast and a seriously pissed off Margret waiting for them all in Kilrush, the father and two children returned to the family home. It was good to be home, and even with Seamus under their roof still – for some reason, Margret didn’t run him off like both Darren and Kathleen had hoped - , Darren’s attitude had taken a major turnaround. The sullen and rebellious kid was replaced by someone more laid back and spent more and more time helping his mother and Brenna with things while taking on the responsibilities of making sure that Avery kept her nose clean even though she was only six and half by then. It was over the next few years that Darren cracked down on his schooling, kept an eye on his father in case there was a repeat of the attack against Margret, and grew close to Avery like only a big brother could do. There was only five years difference between them but that didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of sibling things considering their other sisters were way much older than the pair of them.

While things didn’t get out of hand exactly, there were a few bumps along the road but nothing that they couldn’t fix. Except for issues regarding pets. Brenna and Darren both had rabbits given to them one day by a neighbour, and they loved them…until one day they came home from home from the shops to find Seamus cooking stew. They’d actually eaten some of it before their father had told them exactly what it was and where their pets had gone. The idea of having a pet was never mentioned again. With nothing else to occupy his time, Darren watched Kathleen fall in love and attempt to make a family of her own. He watched Brenna in and out of love like it was a fashion craze and the new latest must have. His parents seemed happy enough and even Avery was doing her own thing. A few months after his eleventh birthday, however, the family was introduced to another change, another daughter in fact, baby Laura. It was great having another sibling and even though Darren still wanted a brother, he was more and more determined to look after his kid siblings and throughout the next five years, Darren did everything he could to make sure that the younger girls were fine. Of course, at sixteen years of age, he did want to do his own thing and on occasion, he did turn away from his responsibilities in favour of something else like any other teenager would, and like most teenagers his age, he was only interested in a few things. One particular incident drove him to be more careful in his extracurricular activities, especially when they included the older sisters of friends of his little sisters. It retrospect, the teenagers should’ve locked the bedroom door rather than simply closing it, but they’d been home alone at the time and hadn’t expected anyone to come back home for a few hours. If it hadn’t been for the girly shriek and giggles causing both Darren and his girlfriend to scramble for their clothes, things would’ve been fine. As it was, his girlfriend ran out of the house mortified that her younger sister had seen her in bed with a boy, and Darren - while embarrassed –, after he’d managed to tug on some jeans, was left as the unofficial babysitter for two eleven year old girls with motor-mouths. It could’ve been worse as he could’ve been in bed with one of Avery’s friend’s brothers, but it did make Darren more inclined to take his girlfriends out elsewhere.

Unfortunately for the Kubiaks, things turned south two years later. Seamus, while he had sworn off the booze for years, had a new vice. Darren’s old man had racked up a rather large gambling debt, and after the third time that someone was sent around to collect money, Darren, Brenna and their mother confronted the older male about it. Seamus exploded, claiming that they were all against him and that they were no blood of his; however it was Darren that drew first blood, breaking his father’s nose with a well-aimed punch that shocked everyone into silence. Darren turned around and launched into a triad of his own, recalling how his mother had tried to pick up the pieces countless times when Seamus had screwed up over the years, he brought up how Kathleen had been the one to sit up all night when their mother had been too exhausted to do anything and how Brenna had been left to run the house when times had been really hard and. Darren actually expected his old man to lash out and attack him, in fact he went as far as to bait the older male into it, but was surprised when Seamus just grabbed his coat and walked out. Things only got worse from there on in. More and more people came to collect money on behalf of his father, and even though the elder Kubiak’s did their best, there was not much they could do. They had no idea where Seamus had run off to after he’d walked out on them, and while some debt collectors were good enough to drop it and leave them be, there were a handful of nasty ones that thought barging into the Kubiak’s home while they were out and poking about for anything valuable was a good idea, simply because they thought that the family was covering for the older male. As hard as Darren tried to protect Avery and Laura from things like this, he knew that his younger sisters weren’t stupid and knew that something bad was happening. However, Kathleen was the one that came up with a solution. The eldest Kubiak daughter sold her house and moved back in with them, and unlike Darren who resorted to running his mouth off to get the debt collectors to leave for a bit, Kathleen was the ballsy one. The first time she saw someone in their home that shouldn’t have been there and looking for money, she grabbed them by the balls and forcibly dragged them out of the house before throwing down money and telling them to piss off.

Darren was working two part time jobs by the time he was twenty years old so he could help stop people harassing his family. If he wasn’t working, there was just enough time to grab something to eat and a nap, and his sisters had come home time and time again to find his sorry excuse of a hide crashed out on the sofa because he’d been too tired to make the stairs up to his room. One night after his shift at the cinema he was working at, things took a massive U-turn that none of them saw coming ever. Darren had been stuck after his shift, as a nasty storm had caused the busses to clock off early, and after calling Kathy for help since she was the only one that had a working car, Darren listened to one of her typical rants about men in their family being useless. He knew that it wasn’t aimed at him and more directed at Seamus, and after a nudge in the right direction he found out exactly why his sister was pissed off. He found out that while he’d been at work, someone had come to the house threatening to burn the house down unless they gave up Seamus’s location. If that hadn’t been enough for Darren to snap over, he also found out that the guy that had come around asking for money had hit their mother and almost turned on their younger sisters before Kathy had showed up with Brenna.

If they hadn’t been arguing over what to do, and if Kathy had been paying more attention to the road and weather, they probably would’ve made it home in once piece. Unfortunately, neither of them made it there. A bolt of lightning cracked a tree in half, and as Kathy swerved to avoid the collapsing and smouldering piece that came away from the tree, she lost control of the car. Darren only caught flashes of the accident at the time, he knew that it had broken a barricade alongside the road and not only rolled once but twice. Then Kathy was gone. Then there was almighty gut wrenching pain as the vehicle came to a juddering stop, caught in a corpse of trees, and then there was nothing at all as Darren lost consciousness. As it stood, Kathy had been thrown free of the car and came away with a broken leg, it was nothing short of miraculous, Darren on the other hand, had the most serious of injuries. If it hadn’t been for Kathy screaming at the fire brigade as they turned up to help, Darren probably would’ve died in the crushed cab of the car. Death probably would have been the better option. As unbeknown to Darren and everyone else for that matter, when he’d been admitted into hospital, one of the doctors on call that evening took it upon himself to take charge of the Kubiak boy’s care. Remus O’Louglin was a lycanthrope – of the polar bear variety - , and an outstanding doctor to boot, with only three patient fatalities on his record. However, the lycanthrope doctor had a secret; he was using his own blood and infecting the worst case patients that passed through his hands in hopes that its healing power could help them. He didn’t infect Darren immediately as he wanted to attempt a more mundane method to help Darren recover, but after the second week in hospital and with Darren showing no signs of recovering from the internal injuries or the head wound that he’d sustained, Remus took matters into his own hands and bled for the cause.

Three days later, Darren was awake and mostly coherent much to everyone’s surprise, his own included.  The following two weeks was an odd time for Darren. He didn’t feel right in himself, and rather than tell anyone, he kept it to himself thinking that it was just exhaustion and his body needing a break from things to recover. It was, as if he was cramped in his own body and as time progressed, Darren felt sicker and sicker with himself, and that’s when his doctor told him that that he was going to be transferred out of there and sent to somewhere that could help him better. “No”. It was in his vocabulary and after attempting to get his feet under him; Darren discharged himself against medical advice and left without looking back, he’d had enough of being poked and prodded and treated like an invalid! The way he saw it was if he could walk and say his own name then things were fine and he’d be ok in a few days. Darren didn’t see Remus’s chipper little smile as the doctor walked away, pocketing blood test results that mentioned that Darren had contracted lycanthropy. Darren got about half way home when he collapsed in horrendous pain that put anything else to shame. However, it wasn’t from his wounds from the crash that caused it. It was the fact that the full moon had risen in the sky, tearing his newly acquired bear out of hiding. Already weak, he didn’t put up much of a fight as the first transformation hit him like a tonne of bricks. He woke up half a day later in the middle of the woods, buck naked with no idea how he got there or where there even was. He wasn’t exactly terrified – he’d had some seriously kinky girlfriends in his time that took a ‘roll in the hay’ a little literal – but he was scared. He felt really good though, stronger even, and it was the only reason that he squished down his fear and took off looking for a house or something where he could borrow a pair of jeans and use a phone. He couldn’t exactly walk buck naked all the way home now could he? After two hours of walking, he stumbled across one of his ex-boyfriends houses on the edge of Kilrush and not embarrassed in the least, he begged for a little help. His ex was more than willing to help and the questions he asked, Darren played it off as a kinky ex that had run off with his clothes while they’d been walking in the woods. It was better than the alternative which was confessing he had no idea what had happened and he couldn’t remember a thing. He didn’t for a moment believe that the other male believed him, but it put a stop to the questions until he got home at least. His ma went nuts when he stomped back into the house, but it was his three sisters that really flew off the handle. Oh it was good to be home once more!

Changes were more noticeable now and he couldn’t deny it. He could hear muttered conversation at the other end of the house, even when he was locked in his room. His other senses were higher as well, and his appetite had taken a turn for the better. Where he couldn’t force himself to finish a plate before his accident, he was asking for seconds like it was nothing. After a few weeks, the girls let things drop and things went back to normal until a new debt collector came to call. It was Darren that answered the door and almost choked on the scent of wet dog that hit him in the face. The other male was just as surprised too and babbled an apology, muttered that he had the wrong house and took off like a bat out of hell. Darren just shrugged it off and went back to doing what he’d been doing, tossing a vague answer when asked who it had been. When it appeared that they were all out of the woods, Kathy and Brenna moved out to start lives of their own – though they remained close enough that they only needed to take a short walk to come back to make sure things at the family house was fine. Darren was more than independent enough that he could’ve moved on as well and he had thought about it for a while prior to the car wreck, but what really synched the deal for him was a visit from an uncle on his father’s side. Apparently Seamus was causing a bit of trouble across in the States and needed help. As much as Darren wanted to tell his uncle to sod off and go bother someone else, but loyalty to his family won out and he was on a plane to Boston within the following days.

He found Seamus in a right mess, holed up in South Boston and it didn’t surprise Darren to know that his old man had been back on the bottle. What did make Darren do a double take was the fact that his father seemed to have found God; it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing but it unnerved Darren enough that rather than turning around and going back home, he actually tried to help the old drunk find his feet again. Until one day he woke up to find his wallet empty and passport gone with Seamus nowhere to be found. With a bad feeling, the werebear phoned home to find out that Seamus had returned and was flashing the cash. Oh he was going to kill the old man when he got his hands on him! Still, he was stuck in Boston until he could organize a way to come home, so he went to his uncle and asked for a job to help him get back on his feet. He managed to wangle a bouncer position in one of the bars and for the most part, just spent his time throwing out trouble makers and making sure that things were running smoothly for folks. It wasn’t until he was cornered coming out of work that the omega bear knew that he’d seriously fucked up because he came face to face with Boston’s Cronus. The male was angry over the fact that an omega hadn’t sought him out for help, and Darren just shrugged it off because by that time he knew exactly what he was. All the meeting did was serve to batter into his head that werebears in groups where really not something he wanted to experience, especially with a king that was a dick.

A couple of months after his twenty first, he met another bear who called himself Keegan, and despite not having been around many werebears before, Darren could appreciate the attention of a fine looking bloke. They struck up a conversation while he was on work, and while there was nothing really going on between them, it was good to have someone to talk to. Darren was still in a bit of a flunk though, he was in a place that was too foreign for him to deal with on top of the fact that he turned into a giant flipping bear once a month, sometimes more if it felt like stretching its legs, and he missed his family to bits. Depression hit him hard and one day, when Keegan dropped by to see him, it was only the other bear talking him out of his funk that got Will up and moving again. What’s more, they began a tentative relationship and he didn’t need to be a brain surgeon to see that Kee was having a bit of trouble with that, it was why Darren never pushed for anything and did his damnedest to make sure he didn’t screw this up for either of them. It was actually the first time since he’d left Ireland and had been trapped in Boston by his father that Darren was truly happy with the way things were going in his life and not just soldiering on without any form of direction. His happiness lasted just a little over a year, before his father came into his life once more and ruined everything.

Seamus said he needed help, and that his legitimate job would go up in flames if he didn’t move some things out of Boston as soon as possible. Darren originally thought that he’d be able to get done with his father in a day and be back before Kee woke up; however his father had other ideas. After Darren agreed to help Seamus on the understanding that the older male would leave and never bother him again, he was told by his father that he was going to be gone for a little while. By that point, he his patience was shot to hell and he left to help his father do what needed to be done. It took Darren five days to work out what his dad was doing, but by then it was too late to tell the thief to take a hike and stuff his ‘job’. If it hadn’t been for the woman that came to reclaim her possessions, Darren probably would have done something violent with the old man; as it was, Seamus became small fry the moment Ms. Nora Devereux walked into the warehouse that the father and son combo had been arguing. The vampire dropped Darren to his knees with a command, and turned on Seamus with the intent to kill the one responsible for putting her to so much trouble. The wiley old fox had another card up his sleeve however, and made like Darren was the one that had stolen from her, that in turn pissed off the vampire even more and gave Seamus the distraction he needed to get the hell out of dodge leaving Darren to a fate worse than death but not before casually mentioning that Avery had drowned. Before Nora could take her pound of flesh, Darren started using the same tricks his father had done, and before the following dawn, he was in the vampire’s lair and in her bed.

It was close to two weeks before he managed to pull himself free of the vampire and Darren had a lot of explaining to do. He’d manipulated a vampire over seven hundred years just so she wouldn’t tear his throat out and drop him in ditch somewhere, and he’d slept with her and bled for her, to boot. That stung, but deep down inside of him, Darren really hurt over what his father had done to him, so he changed things and made a vow that he would never be dragged back into something like that again. A new haircut, a new style, and even a new name weren’t enough though, William Kubiak wanted his man and there was nothing short of the apocalypse that was going to stop him. Within hours, he managed to track down Keegan to a pricey bar but fate was obviously against someone as two bears tried to stop him from entering. William dropped one guard easily enough, but the second one was a little trickier but ultimately went down hard. He’d caused enough of a scene to disturb the Rhea that wanted to get close and personal with Keegan and after tossing his boyfriend – could he even call Keegan his boyfriend after pulling that vanishing act? – a cheeky wink, William turned on the woman and told her to get the hell off his man and take a hike, before promptly dragging the other bear out before the police arrived. The talk that followed was hard to deal with, but William explained that he hadn’t had a chance to leave Keegan a note and that he was deeply sorry for leaving the way he did. He left out the bit about his little sojourn into Nora’s lair and what he’d had to do to come back, and he knew Kee would’ve started poking at him if it hadn’t been for the fact that William mentioned that he was turning over a new leaf and taking a fresh start. Kee accepted that and it was almost as if things were back to normal.

A few years later, things became extremely strained between him and Kee and it seemed like things were through between them. Both of them went their separate ways, Keegan to God knows where, and William back to Ireland to visit the family. Twenty four years old and he was back on the track with no real direction.  Of course, he kept up the pretence of happiness around his sisters, and if he even smelt his father, he went the other way before he could do something. The trip home lasted about four months before he went back to Boston to see if he could make a go of it. He had even started planning on relocating elsewhere, but never settled on anything for definite. He just soldiered on to the best of his ability and put more time in effort in learning to control his inner beast. It was a month later that Keegan returned, and suspicious at first, William almost told the other male to take a hike but something stopped him. He allowed Kee back in and their reunion was great, and for the following four years, despite the fact that they had their arguments and small fights – and the occasional break up -, both of them kept coming back to one another. He never went with anyone else in a romantic sense, but William strayed as far as he could from Keegan if only to get his head on straight again. It worked better than saying or doing something that damaged what they had and no one ever complained. Things got real when he heard from Kathleen that Seamus was drinking and still gambling four years later, and he did the only thing that he could at the time. He started sending money back home, to his mother for the younger girls, to Kathleen in case someone came looking for money and no one had any, and he even set up an account for Avery and Laura and put aside some money every now and then because in his mind it made up (mostly) for being a sucky big brother and a son. It was Keegan that managed to swing them a new career choice, at Aaru Transport for Cara DeBesadre. Over the space of the next year, William watched something happen between his boyfriend and his boss, and rather than being upset about it, he just shrugged it off and got on with his own things, never once mentioning the odd vibes he was getting. He craved the reassurance that Keegan gave him though when the other male took him aside. Yes, it stung a little bit and for a while he was jealous, but he worked on his issues in his own time. It wasn’t until a few weeks ago that the three of them – more commonly labelled as ‘Dysfunction’ – relocated to Jackford to start another branch of Aaru Transport and it seems like they’re staying. [/LIST][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][b]Name:[/b] Jess. [b]Age:[/b] An imaginary number! [b]What happened?:[/b] GH, she’s evil...and I like his hair.

[b]Name:[/b] Hunter Burnett. [b]Nicknames & Aliases:[/b][LIST]Uncle Jordon. Jordan Burnett. Hunter Jordan. [/LIST][b]Age:[/b] 286 [b]Date of Birth:[/b] June 4th, 1725. [b]Age at Death:[/b] 28. [b]Gender:[/b] Male.   [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Questionable. [b]Occupation:[/b] Jack of all trades.

[b]Bloodline:[/b] Beast Master. [b]Power Level:[/b] Adult [s]Kiss[/s]. [b]Mind-Set:[/b] Both. [b]Animal to Call:[/b] None. [b]Powers:[/b] [LIST] [*] Heightened senses, reflexes, healing and strength. [*] Bite...If he enters the persons mind when feeding, he can make it less painful and more enjoyable. He doesn’t most of the time. [*] Empathy, he can smell some strong emotions like fear, rage, anger, lust. Since he’s of Padma’s bloodline, he’s also got a slight empathy to all animals. [*]Enthralling/rolling, he can only get this right with weaker shifters and normal humans. Anything stronger can break free. [*] Glamour, he can switch small things about him. Make his hair darker, eyes brighter, on will. [/LIST][b]Rank:[/b] Rogue. He can be tempted by the Kiss though.

[b]Face Claim:[/b] Gerard Way. [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://i325.photobucket.com/albums/k361/Mychemicalromance55_photos/mychem313.jpg[/IMG] [i]Height:[/i] 5’10 [i]Weight:[/i] 151lbs [i]Eyes:[/i] Hazel brown. [i]Hair:[/i] He’s a dyer. Naturally, it’s [URL=http://img.buzznet.com/assets/imgx/7/5/3/9/1/6/1/orig-7539161.jpg]black, he’s [/URL] gone [URL=http://quizilla.teennick.com/user_images/A/AM/AMU/AMUANDIKUTO4EVA/1264970042_5386_full.jpeg]blonde[/URL] in the past, but he’s currently sporting [URL=http://images4.fanpop.com/image/photos/19400000/Gerard-way-my-chemical-romance-19400197-467-700.jpg]red.[/URL] [i]Build:[/i] Average and lean. [i]Visible marks:[/i] He has a Crucifix burn mark on his left shoulder. [i]Style:[/i] Hunter likes to be comfortable. Since he travels a lot, he’s ditched the formal wear that he used to love and taken to jeans, t-shirts, a nice pair of boots. You name it, he’ll wear it. That doesn’t mean he won’t go back to formal(ish) wear.

[b]Special Skills:[/b][LIST] [*] Can speak pretty decent Spanish and French, well enough to get him by. [*] Not so much a fighter, more of a scrapper when it comes to combat. [*] Good with a knife or any type of blade, if being armed is what's needed. [/LIST][b]Personality:[/b][LIST]Hunter isn’t as complicated as most people would think. He’s a fairly easy going guy that likes to have a laugh and being a vampire nearly 300 years old hasn’t changed that, and why should it? Just because he’s dead doesn’t mean he has to be a mopey Annie, he enjoys his unlife. He doesn’t judge people right off the bat and he’s willing to give them a choice to show their true colours before passing judgement and moving on with his life. He just understands that not everyone choses to be who they’ve become, or what they’ve become. Caring and nurturing – it comes with raising a boisterous were-puppy -, he’s got the patience of a saint at times and it’s hard to push him into snapping but not impossible.

Other vampires, more to the point the older kind, scare him and because of that he respects them a hell of a lot. He’s fine with anyone younger but the older ones make the hair on the back of his neck crawl. He knows he’s got to play it careful with the elders of his kind, they could easily shred him a new one if they wanted and to top that off he’s trespassing on an occupied territory. In some places that would have ended with his heart and head removed. Shape shifters are awesome; he’d rather run with someone that was furry inclined then spend time around his own kind. Maybe it’s because of his bloodline, he’s never worked it out, but if Hunter comes across a shape shifter in need, he’ll lend a hand. Humans are the same, as long as they’re not trying to stick a bullet or stake into him, he’s dandy.

He’s extremely protective of Grey, and has bled for his “nephew”, to the point that he has killed for him. Hunter would walk over broken glass if he had to, to make sure that Grey was comfortable, and he’d go without clothes on his back to make sure that Grey had what he needs. Does he love him? Yes. He’s been there since day one, and while it may seem a little odd to some but that’s just the way it is and the hand that Hunter’s been dealt. They’re not related by blood after all so it’s nothing incestuous despite the fact that he regularly refers to Grey as his “nephew” outside of the few people that Hunter can call friend. There blames himself for the death of his “family”, and he believes that he failed his friend from all those years ago, and it gnaws at him at times when he’s not really paying attention to what’s going on around him. [/LIST][b]Likes:[/b][LIST] [*] Being alive...Well, undead and alive. You get the picture. [*] His [URL=http://www.musclecarclub.com/musclecars/pontiac-firebird/images/pontiac-firebird-1968c.jpg]car[/URL]...Well, technically it's Grey's car now. [*] Living under the radar. [*] Keeping Grey safe, even if Grey doesn't always know it. [*] Wandering the coast at night. [*] When it's not to hot or to cold. [*] Playing games on his phone when he's bored. [*] Watching people. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b] [LIST] [*] Following other people’s rules. [*] Wearing suits. Though he does it occasionally. [*] Being hunted like a dog. [*] Seeing Grey struggle with something. [*] Driving in the rain. [*] Seeing animals abused. (This includes shifters, as well.) [*] Pushing to get what he wants. [*] Being dragged into the spotlight, so to speak. [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b][LIST] [*] Strong willed. [*] High pain tolerance. [*] Won't hesitate to get things done. [*] Grey. [*] Somehow manages to keep Grey calm when he's all worked up. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b][LIST] [*] Can't enter a person’s house without permission from the owner. Has killed because of this. [*] Normal vampire restrictions and weaknesses. Fire, sunlight, Holy items. [*] Grey! He failed his adopted family, he won't fail Grey. [*] Doesn't always feed right. A little taste here and there, just to hold him over. [*]Stubbornly persistent at times. It’s been known to get him into trouble. [/LIST][b]History:[/b]  

When former British Naval officer turned pirate William Morgan found out that the tavern wench, Carmella, that he visited regularly was pregnant with his supposed spawn, he up rooted the poor woman and dragged her all the way from her home in Maracaibo to his home city of London, and in the early summer of 1725, Hunter was pushed screaming into the world and was welcomed with somewhat open arms. Carmella died from a fever and child birth complicates according to the back street midwife that William had paid to help deliver his son, and she wasn’t mourned. William wanted a son, not a wife or a real family, and he already had plenty of mistresses across many main trade routes waiting for him so one whore dead was no skin off his nose to see her buried in an unmarked grave just outside of the city.

For Hunter though, it meant something different. Since William didn’t haul the boy out to sea with him, he was left from the moment he could walk with William’s sister, Cassandra. She was nice enough, and made sure that her brother’s son was fed and looked after, but that was it. There wasn’t a maternal bone in the woman’s body, and Hunter grew to know this very well, especially when he got hurt and all she did was pour boiling hot salt water over his cuts and scrapes and scolded him for being irresponsible before always telling him the same story about how his father would be so disappointed and when he came back from his trip then she would tell him of all the bad things that Hunter had done. If anything that was what made him wish for his father’s return all the more, simply so he could meet the man even if he was to be scolded for being a typical boy. He was nine when William came back to London, and upon first meeting him, Hunter was scared. Worse yet, Cassandra lied through her back teeth to get Hunter out of her house and William had no choice but to agree after giving the boy a beating for causing his beloved sister so much trouble. Fear turned to twisted joy, and the following day he was dragged out of one life and into something...better. He’d always wanted to see new places, meet new people and have an adventure. He wasn’t disappointed either, so he waved good bye to England and followed his father like a loyal little puppy.

By the time Hunter twenty one years old, he returned to London under an assumed name of Jordan Hunter. William had died in a raid on a tavern in Panama nearly two years previous and it was that loss that had him seeking something else. It was his father that had taught him everything that he had known, and without him, well, Hunter saw no point in staying on as a pirate and that was a bit cowardly in itself and went against everything in him for the most part. Besides, piracy had been a dying art for years before his father had taken him away from Cassandra at the age of nine, but it was well and truly dead by the time he returned those thirteen years later with more knowledge of the world and with more than a few secrets and tricks up his sleeves. No doubt there was a noose waiting for him somewhere as well. A few weeks upon his return, he found out that Cassandra had moved to the country because of her health, and instead of tracking her down, Hunter decided to stay in the city and it took a year of roughing it out, but eventually he found his feet so to speak in a classy tavern come whore house in South London. He was to look after the working girls, make sure that they were treated somewhat correctly and if a John thought he could get away with something that the Lady of the house didn’t like, and then he was to deal with it and make sure that it wouldn’t happen again. Simple, really. Right? Right! It was something he could do with little to no trouble, because half the time the punters abided by the rules and Hunter became somewhat of a ghost, only appearing when trouble kicked off over the next few years.

Twenty six, almost twenty seven years old, and surprised that he’d lasted that long in anyone one job, Hunter made the mistake of stepping in to stop some high Lord from doing some serious damage to a girl named Mary, a new addition to the household. She was a sweet lass that was a little ditzy in Hunt’s opinion but she didn’t deserve the ever living Hell kicked out of her because someone had shot his ... pistol ... too early and in the wrong place. Mary was only eighteen at the time. Not liking it, the gentleman turned on Hunter in a rage but the Mistress of the house stepped in before it got too out of hand and warned the male away with the threat that he’d no longer be welcome in any brothel in the city if he didn’t leave. Luckily, the gentleman had some sense and left. That night, after a talk with the Mistress, Hunter became the unofficial career for some of the younger girls and that suited him fine. The ‘business’ was changing after all; he’d seen it rise up from a tavern where anyone could get what they wanted to something more refined. The year following, Hunter got close to Mary and as unwise as it was, he wouldn’t have changed it for the world. They just clicked. However, the good times weren’t something that just wasn’t meant to be. Lord Jennings came back on evening with his friends and they flashed a lot of money around. The Mistress, Emily as she was known, had no choice but to serve the ingrates, but she warned Hunter to be on the lookout for trouble as well as the more senior girls and staff. Mary was one of the unlucky girls that were called on to serve the gentlemen and while Hunter didn’t particularly like it, he had no choice but to let it happen. It wasn’t until later that night that Jennings changed from a rich snob to something else, something from the pits of Hell itself when the Mistress refused him personal service. For poor Hunter, it was like some of the stories he’d heard on his ‘travel’ made real.

The Mistress and Jennings tore into each other with fangs, two of Jennings friends turned into monstrous wolf like beasts that lunged for the closest living body that was near them, another turned into a snake-man. If that wasn’t bad enough, some of the girls turned to. Great cats attacked the wolf men, and those that didn’t transform tore into them with fangs. It seemed that Hunter was the only human amidst the nightmare, and after a moment’s hesitation he was spurred into action by something that he considered even worse. Mary had been cornered by a rabid creature, some kind of man-dog thing and Hunter didn’t hesitate in trying to defend her. One almighty smack across the back of his head sent him flying into the path of another monstrosity. Jennings. The vampire male had split from the Mistress and left her bleeding and broken on the floor and took after the disorientated Hunter, and the last thing that Hunter saw before the world went black was Jennings fangs.

He woke up three nights later, chained at the wrists and ankles in the houses cellar with no idea what had happened to him or the others. He’d never been to the lower levels of the house before, hadn’t wanted to, but the coffins lining the wall made him tremble. If it hadn’t been for the Mistress Emily who was in a similar position to him and trying to calm him down, Hunter would have found a way to raise unholy hell. The hunger he felt would have driven him to doing it anyway, but from what he was being told there was just something distracting about it. Jennings had turned him to spite the Mistress, who was in fact Jennings own wife and his former fledgling. Talk about having your mind blown open. Hunter had worked for Mistress Emily for nearly a decade and he’d never once thought of her as someone’s wife. He certainly hadn’t thought of her as a vampire either! The nightly sightings had been written off as being selective with her cliental but that was it, especially since she had more than enough people working for her to get whatever was needed during the day done. It was so crazy that it actually made sense to him. Hunter just didn't accept it fully until Jennings finally gave both of his 'toys' an audience and by then it was too late for him and Mistress Emily as they both listened to the Master vampire rage about how he hadn't wanted to take over Emily's life again, but the insults that he got because of her reputation had been too much for him as it had started to affect his business dealings in the city. It was time to bring his wife to heel! Back to her place at his side, even if he had to destroy everything that she had built during their ‘separation’ as he called it.

After Emily was beaten into submission verbally by her husband, Jennings turned on Hunter, simply because he’d stood up for one of Emily’s girls. As a lesson to his new fledgling, Jennings tore the throat out of one of the girls that Hunter had promised to look after in front of both of his ‘children’. The scent of blood drove Hunter wild, pushed him past being human to a place where only the blood mattered. Jennings let him loose and the only thing that Hunter cared about was the blood that was draining from the girl’s throat and he fell on her, feeding on what was left. Emily tried to bring him back to her, back to being human, back to being Hunter, and she almost succeeded by sheer force of will but at the end of the day, Jennings had his claws in Hunter and he also had Emily right where he wanted her and it was like that for nearly twenty years before anything changed. He didn’t go around as Jennings ‘servant’, he became Hunter again, all because he found out that Mary – who had because Emily’s maid more than a prostitute – had become pregnant with a child to one of Jennings shape shifter friends, a weredog, just like she was. What made Hunter more surprised than suspicious was that Mary claimed she was in love with the male, and there hadn’t been any force involved. He had no option but to agree when he saw what she was like around him. If only he knew how Jennings would react ahead of time, maybe he’d have been able to stop his sire for doing something stupid.

The birth was complicated. Mistress Emily had taken over the proceedings as midwife while Lord Archibald paced in the hallway waiting to see if he had a son or a daughter. Hunter did as he was told, fetched water and towels and was the perfect little man servant. It was on his second trip up from the kitchens that he found Master Jennings had returned early from a business trip – much to everyone’s surprise – and had found out what was happening. He flew into a rage unlike Hunter had ever seen before, and turned on the vulnerable Mary screaming and cursing that she was ruining the bed. Archibald and Emily lunged to keep him away from the woman and Hunter was the one that had to finish delivering the baby and even though he had no idea what he was doing and there was a battle raging behind him, between him and Mary, the young shapeshifter was brought into the world kicking and screaming. It should’ve been a happy moment, and it was, in a way, but one moment Hunter was on his feet and the next he was collapsing and clutching at his chest. He didn’t know that Emily had taken Jennings head clean off his shoulders, leaving Archibald to deal with the rest. A life for a life, the baby was alive and Hunter was dying for a second time. It was a good exchange in Hunters eyes. However it wasn't in Emily's. She blood oathed him to herself in a last ditch attempt to save his life and she almost lost him. Almost. To them, Jennings had never returned home that day and the never mentioned him again.

Excitement over, the vampires became unspoken godparents to the child that had been named Thomas, and they watched as he grew up and his parents passed on seventy years later. Hunter was barely past his first century of un-life and could have done anything or gone anywhere, but a bond of friendship kept him there. Even after Emily finally grew bored with watching out for her friend’s children and their children’s children and moved on, Hunter stuck around keeping tabs on the closest thing that he had to a family. He became an unspoken Uncle. Sure, he was sad to see Emily go but he just couldn’t do it, and wouldn’t do it for all the tea in China. The only problem was that since his Mistress had left to find something else to occupy her, Hunter had to be careful. It wasn’t right for a “rogue” vampire to wander into Kiss’ territories unannounced, and feeding in a territory that was controlled by a Master vampire was even more dangerous for him. So he crept around the territory lines, nibbled rather than fed, and vanished when there was any sign of trouble headed his way. It wasn’t a perfect life, but it was his to do with as he wished.

He travelled a bit even though he kept in contact since some of the weredog’s that came and went didn’t seem to like him being close to them or their kin. He dropped out of contact for sixty years at one point because he’d been focused on getting a job and getting some money put away in case he ever needed it, and he did get a bit put away for a rainy day. When he finally came back into contact with the dogs and a lot had changed, Hunter was only glad that he could come back in time to see Grey born and could be in the kids life from the start rather than coming in later and getting growled at by someone. He wouldn’t admit it, but Hunter had been growing tired of everything, those sixty years before Grey’s birth had been tiresome and Hunter hadn’t been able to see the point in trying anymore, but things were oddly different now. So he became Uncle Hunter to Grey and for the first year and a half everything was grand, there wasn’t any trouble that they couldn’t get passed. He should’ve known that it would change though, one night hunters tracked down the family of weredogs and slaughtered them all. Hunter had been out feeding in the main town, rather than staying at the family home that night. He got there too late to save anyone, but he did find Grey stashed away in the cupboard under the stairs. After leaving an anonymous 999 call, Hunter left with Grey; the only thing on his mind was how it would look if the police turned up and found him standing amongst the bodies of his family. It would’ve looked liked he’d done it rather than a roving gang of murderers that pretended to be on a mission from God to destroy monsters

So, they travelled for a bit together. Scotland, Ireland, the States, you name it. It was a bit tricky for Hunter, having to explain why Grey wasn’t in school and what not, but he passed it off as him being in private education. People tended to leave them alone once they heard that, but Hunter – who was going as Jordon at the time – dealt with it and made sure Grey wasn’t affected much. Around about the time that Grey hit fifteen years of age, the kid went through his first shape shift. Hunter was glad of this, even though Grey pretty much freaked out over the fact it was a dog form rather than something fancy like a wolf or bear, but that pretty much sorted itself out when Hunter told him that he turned into a [i]big[/i] dog. Since Hunter had pretty much dragged Grey to the states to make sure no one found out that he was a weredog and could connect him to the family tragedy, it was time to come back home to the UK but not before Hunter paid a few of his old Mistress’s ‘friends’ to find out what had happened all those years before. What was turned up was just a little disturbing to say the least. A rogue sect of Human against Vampires had killed Hunters family all that time ago because of him, and it tore him up inside to learn this.

Four years later, the nightmare came back to finish what was started. Grey was nineteen and Hunter was, well, typical dorky Hunter over a movie night when their little rented house was raided. Hunter told Grey to run as he took one of the humans out before swiftly following. It was only later when they met up on the outside of town to watch their house go up in flames that Hunter realized just how important Grey was to him. It was little too late though, the hunters found them and Hunter threw himself at the lot of them so Grey could runaway and that he’d catch up with him later. What Hunter didn’t want Grey to see was him tearing into the crew of slayers with a rage he didn’t even know existed until he saw their leering grins. Throats game out between fangs, silver bullets hit home weakening him more and more until eventually he was left broken on the floor. Rather than kill him out right like anyone sane would do, they hauled his mangled body to a lock up, told him that he was going to be used as an example for monsters in the area.

Now a vampire can take a lot of damage, they beat him, starved him, and threatened to burn his face off with holy water, you name it, and Hunter dealt with it. He even got a pretty cross shaped scar for mouthing off to a chick that obviously wasn’t getting any at home. It wasn’t until two weeks into this Hell that things got interesting. They started bringing in animals for him to feed off, dogs, cats, rats, hell even some idiot brought him a goat. Rather than feed though, he manipulated the animals even though it cost him. A dog would bite here; a cat would take a swipe at someone’s face. It was worth it because one of the punks came close enough for Hunter to snag him by the throat and tore into it, draining the life from the slayer. All he wanted was the blood at first, but the keys to the pretty jeep and his chains were a bonus. Using the animals as a diversion, Hunter got out of the waterside warehouse and the hell out of dodge. Even though it took him a couple of more weeks to track Grey down, he wasn’t in any state to confront the young weredog. He did however stick close to Grey, more a silent uncle that was heard rather than seen. While he was healing up and Grey was getting on with life, Hunter found out that HAV had found Grey in London. Seeing red, he went straight to Grey’s flat and broke in, he wasn’t going to beat around the bush and told Grey everything that he knew before dragging him out of there and telling Grey’s neighbours that there were trouble makers on the way and that they should call the police because there would be guns! Well, as you can imagine it wasn’t the best reunion and Hunter would’ve done anything to make it better except he couldn’t. All he could do was point Grey in the direction of Jackford with a promise that he’d follow him after he gave the slayers some new tails to chase, and he did.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][b]Name:[/b] Jess. [b]Age:[/b] 21. [b]How did you find us?:[/b] Well, you see. You found me!

[align=center] [color=WHITE]Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. -- [b]Edgar Allan Poe[/b] "The Raven"[/SIZE][/color] [IMG]http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lilkhvalW01qzozmk.gif[/IMG] [color=WHITE]Tell me would you kill to save for a life? Tell me would you kill to prove you're right? Crash, crash, burn let it all burn. This hurricane chasing us all underground.[/color] [/align]

[b]Name:[/b] Fallon. [b]Nicknames & Aliases:[/b] [LIST]Fall; He’ll acknowledge you if you’re not being funny. Autumn; He may change his hair colour a lot but that will get you smacked. Sadistic; Why thank you! Lust; No, he’s not a chick even if he wears guy-liner. [/LIST][b]True Age:[/b] 3004 [b]What He Says:[/b] 1018 [b]Date of Birth:[/b] December 26th [b]Age at Death:[/b] 30 [b]Gender:[/b] Male. [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Bisexual, though guys are more his thing. [b]Occupation:[/b] Owns his own theatre plus company, sometimes steps in at Club Hell to help Noah.

[b]Bloodline:[/b] Belle Morte. [b]Power Level:[/b] Master. [b]Mind-Set:[/b] Dominant unless submissive suits the situation. [b]Animal to Call:[/b] Wolves. [b]Powers:[/b] [b]Standard Vampire powers:[/b] Like all vampires, Fallon’s got heightened physical strength and he has steel like grip. He could send a human flying with a slightest touch and like the newly dead, he’s capable of lifting a small car with ease. He’s also very fast, more than capable from switching from a death like stillness to a speed that’s perceived faster than the human eye can follow since he can cloud people’s minds. It’s like as if he vanishes at will! His senses are pretty spot on, Fallon can smell a human’s emotional state, and to some degree, he can taste weaker shifters or vampires and his hearing? Well, he can hear a whispered comment from the other side of the house. With his age, Fallon can disguise himself and appear mortal, but unlike a human, he can switch from being a completely animated being to something that is still, expressionless and silent. The last thing of note is that he’s extremely difficult to harm like most of the older vampires and wounds made from heavy objects, and even bullets, heal with moments even though it hurts like hell he doesn’t let it show.

[b]Feeding Via Mind:[/b] Now, this is a tricky thing for him to do since the human mind is complex. He has to touch people to do this, skin to skin, for it to work and he can only enter a person’s mind to feed from their more promiscuous thoughts and deepest fantasies. He can’t sustain himself on this for long, maybe a day or two extra, but he can use it to hold back the ardeur and the blood hunger. To avoid doing this often, Fallon takes precautions and wears a pair of leather gloves.

[b]Empathic Voice Manipulation:[/b] Fallon can use his voice to bring out the better aspects in peoples moods. He thinks of it more as a mental power than something actually physical because he doesn’t have to touch someone when he uses it, however it still gives off a physical sensation at times to the people he uses it on. In his mind, it’s supposedly like rolling a victim. They want to stay and listen to him, even if they wouldn’t normally do it or despise him. He's only ever really used this power on his wolf, Jesse.

[b]The Ardeur:[/b] Fallon is an incubus, and one of Bella Morte’s special little boys and girls. The most basic way to describe it is that anyone under its thrall is gripped by the intense desire to have sexual intercourse with the user or the closest person to them despite their general preferences. This power’s truly frightening because the Ardeur drains the energy from those it feeds on and can potentially drain a person to the point of death, so incubi and succubi have more than one general lover if they want to feed correctly.

[b]Animal/Human Servant Creation:[/b] In theory, Fallon could take a human on as a servant as well, outside of his animal servant Jesse Harley. Basically, this power allows Fallon to magically bind someone to him, making said servants greater resistance to injury and mental powers and almost complete immunity to his own power (first mark). It also allows him to draw power from his servant and experience what they eat and drink, and even enter their dreams (second mark). He has to take some of the servants blood, but by doing so, it conveys increased healing powers, immunity to poisons and allows him and his servant to communicate mentally (third mark). After that, it’s just a matter of getting his servant to drink his blood and he can make them immortal like him, it also gives them a bond of almost complete mental communication and allows the servant to draw on Fallon’s strength (fourth mark). However, should his servant die, Fallon’s would be metaphysically crippled and most likely go insane since he’s old enough to survive the death. [b]Rank:[/b] Témoin

[b]Face Claim:[/b] Jared Leto. [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://images.sugarscape.com/userfiles/image/july/0707jared2.jpg[/IMG] [i]Height:[/i] 5’10. [i]Weight:[/i] 166lbs. [i]Eyes:[/i] Blue. A very distracting blue. [i]Hair:[/i] Naturally, brown and stays brown. Unless he dyes it a different colour for fun! (and 6 months out of 12, it’s one colour or another.) [i]Build:[/i] Very lean, almost to the point he looks underweight but that’s a lie. [i]Visible marks:[/i] He has two tattoos, one on the inside of his wrist in Latin with a quote he forgot years ago, and the other ( a small triad ) on his collar bone. [i]Style:[/i] Normally loose clothes, grungy punk like clothes. Beaded bracelets, necklaces and so on. He can wear suits, if he does though that’s another story since they make him feel confined. He’ll wear them though, if the occasion calls for it and keep the complaining to a minimum.

[b]Special Skills:[/b] [LIST] [*] Can speak French, Romanian, Spanish and Italian. Oh! And sarcasm. [*] He can appear human, unlike newer vampires. [*] Since he’s second in command of Jackford, he does actually have a network of spies and snitches at his finger tips that he uses when he has to. He’s built this up over the years, so in a way it’s a special skill, because he uses it to keep Noah updated and the Kiss one step ahead of things most of the time. [*] It isn't really a special skill, but he prides himself on not being power hungry. [/LIST][b]Personality:[/b][LIST]Fallon is just a giant ball of multicolours. No, seriously, his hair isn’t the only thing that changes. Normally, he’s an ok kind of guy that doesn’t go out of his way to annoy people too much. He likes to help people out and offer them a shoulder to cry on or wall to bounce ideas off. He’ll give advice where it’s due, even if he’s stepping on toes or going to piss someone off, if he feels the need to say it then he will. He’ll always try and apologize afterwards, but he’s Old World, so sometimes things don’t click right despite being fairly modern. What most people don’t notice, and sometimes Fallon doesn’t either, is that he gets bored easily and he acts out, heck the only people that probably would notice one of his acting out fazes are his brother, cousin or Jesse because he goes beyond the typical theatrical, creative and eccentric, he strays into maliciousness. He’s a bit of a charmer when he’s not being a whacky nut case that should be locked away for societies own wellbeing. Fallon’s loyal and backs up any threats and promises, if he says that he’ll do something then he will do it, even if it makes him squirm and whinge like a kicked puppy.

With his vast age, Fallon’s adopted a slightly twisted perspective on vampires and other supernatural. He comes from a time when they were monsters and did drop bodies where they could be found by others then slaughter others. He’s also well versed in the way many Kisses are run. Masters of the City are treated with the utmost respect, and he would give his life if it was what his “master” would want. Masters within the Kiss don’t get instant respect either; if they’re not strong enough then they have to earn it. In a dog eat dog world, its sink or swim baby. Lower Kiss and fledglings jump when he tells them too…Or at least that used to be the way. Fallon treats the Kiss like extended family, they have their ups and their downs but at the end of the day they’re not that dysfunctional. That doesn’t mean he’ll put up with blatant endangerment of his family. If it’s for the better good of all, he will stop people by any means appropriate and has at times locked vampires away in coffins and forgotten about them, or simply ripped their hearts out. He hasn’t held the position of second in command by only being a funny bastard; he has his ruthless streak well hidden as it may be.

While he’s been in Jackford, he’s made it his job to be friends with all the local werewolves where he can and provide them with an alley should they need it. He’s only ever once called the wolves of Jackford without their permission and he won’t do it again. Those he call come to him willingly or not at all. It’s the same with any partners he has as force is very distasteful. No one in this life time has seen Fallon at his worst. Sure, he has his moments where he withdraws from the world and appears bored with what’s going on around him and with what’s going on in his life, but I’m not talking about a depressive vampire. The anger in him is deep, and it’s destructive and in some ways protective because he does rant and he does rave and he does lash out normally in his head these days and prays that he never needs to get violent properly. [/LIST][b]Likes:[/b] [LIST] [*] Playing video games with Jesse. [*] When there’s no trouble for the Kiss. Running around like chickens is annoying. [*] Riding his bike through the city. Screw your cars! [*] Shopping in person, though he’ll never own up to it when he does it online. [*] When it snows. [*] Swimming. [*] Protecting the Kiss. He wouldn’t be second in command of the city if he didn’t. [*] Tormenting Jesse on their [i]movie nights[/i]. [*] Writing poems, short stories, you name it. [*] Playing the guitar, that’s something only Jesse and Noah know about. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b] [LIST] [*] Religious talk. Followed by the words "vampires have no souls." [*] Getting blood on his favourite clothes. It’s hell to get it out.   [*] When Jesse gets into trouble and doesn’t tell him straight away. [*] Fighting with Noah. [*] Jesse disobeying him in some form or another. [*] Silence. He has to have a little noise around him otherwise his mind wanders. [*] People underestimating the Kiss. [*] People that try and hurt his wolf. [*] Getting blood on his clothes. [*] Having to make an example of someone. [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b][LIST] [*] Goes to great lengths to make friends with the wolves before calling any. [*] Jesse makes him look at the world a whole new way again. [*] Is brutally honest when he needs to be. Suck it up, princess! [*] He’s pretty intelligent, even if he does look like a typical punk.   [*] His brother. Enough said on that matter. [*] Can and will walk into a church, much to the surprise of many. What? He’s fine as long as there’s no flaming crosses or bible toting idiots. [*] Patience of a saint, it must be said. When things look rough, he’ll look for other options. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b][LIST] [*] Having to be invited into a home. [*] Holy symbols. [*] Jesse Harley. Hurt the pet and you hurt the Master. [*] His older brother Noah. [*] He has to feed the Ardeur or risk it getting out of control and no one wants that. [*] Has a habit of running his mouth off at times. [*] Likes blood a little too much. [/LIST][b]Fears:[/b][LIST] [*] Small spaces. He can deal for a little while but not long time frames. He feared them as a human and it has carried over as a vampire. [*] Seeing Jesse hurt and being unable to help him, he wouldn’t know what to do if he didn’t have his wolf around. [*] Noah's temper or Jaspers. He fears that in a big way like any baby brother/cousin would. [*] Being starved from touch again. [/LIST][b]History:[/b][LIST]Seven years after the birth of Noah, during a particularly rough winter, Fallon was brought into the world kicking like any normal babe to be welcomed by his older brother Noah and his father as his mother lay exhausted. His mother knew something was different about her second son; womanly intuition of course, brought on by the fact Fallon was quiet as a babe. Her first son and her husband didn’t seem to notice it, so she didn’t mention it to anyone. From the moment that Fallon could walk on his own two feet, his brother was teaching him all kinds of things as well as his parents. They were growing old; they wanted both of their boys to survive in the harsh life that had been given to them and in less than six years Fallon and Noah were left orphans as their parents passed on. Noah tried at first to make things work, he took up the responsibilities afforded to a man and Fallon tried his hardest too help, even at such a young age. Eventually the local story teller Alaric’s wife came and helped, and then the rest of the settlement rather than see the boys waste away since they had no other blood kin close to hand.

When he was ten, Fallon was left in the care of the story teller and his wife as Noah went off to fight for the clan and settlement with other young men. As much as he hated it, he couldn’t blame Noah much but he did feel abandoned. For most of his life Noah was the only constant in his life, and to be left with strangers that some in the settlement considered mad was a little…scary. After the first few weeks though, he was fine and Noah was the last thing on his mind. Up at dawn he would go hunting with the story teller while his wife kept the house and small farm that they had and they’d go into the woods to hunt birds and the like and every day Fallon was told a different story about Gods and Goddesses, demons and all kinds of great and wonderful things. He was also taught how to shoot a bow and arrow over the nine years he spent with them, he was also taught to hunt and forage in the woods and the land around them, and every night when he lay down to sleep he no longer thought about Noah like he had when he had when he’d been younger.

Nine years later and Noah stumbled back into the settlement. Fallon wasn’t the first to great him as he’d been out fishing at the time, but when he found out that his brother was back, he raced back. Only, things weren’t as they were. Before he embraced his brother, Fallon hesitated for a moment and he knew that Noah noticed it because his brother had to clear his throat to get Fallon to even move forward that last few steps. There was just something different about Noah that he didn’t like and yet he couldn’t explain it. So instead he pushed it aside and embraced his brother and tried to summon up the elation that he just couldn’t feel. Yes, he was happy that Noah had returned alive and whole, but it was the joy of having a warrior return from battle and not that of a baby brother. Maybe it was because Noah didn’t seem that enthused to see him or it was the fact that the entire settlement had hounded him. So, after a quick hug and a ‘I’ll see you later’, Fallon slunk off with his tail between his legs in no mood for the celebration.

Over the following years, the brothers tried to reconnect, they really did. Fallon showed him everything that he had learnt but Noah seemed to always find something to pick and poke at while fending off the women folk that wanted to hear tales of the war and offers from wealthier travellers that wanted a mercenary. Every time Noah poked, Fallon snapped, every time he prodded, Fallon hissed until eventually he just took off and left Noah to the mercy of the villagers.  Alaric’s wife, Ava, tried to get the brothers to bond but to no good, and they got in to enough fights both verbal and physical that on occasions Fallon was left with a bloodied lip or black eye and Noah was left with another dent in his conscious. Fallon may’ve been good with a hunting knife or a bow, but his brother was deadly with or without weapons so Fallon never fought back. So in the end both brothers were left sitting on opposite sides of a chasm that only seemed to get wider and wider and ultimately led to Fallon’s mounting frustration and anger, even Old Alaric called him up on that a time or two when it cost them a night’s dinner.

Old Alaric died two years later, just after Fallon’s twenty sixth birthdays. Ava had passed the previous autumn before and it was the only reason that had Fallon alone on the coast watching a pyre burn rather than finding out about the war in the south. It was then he decided that he really wanted to make things up with Noah. He returned to the settlement too late, apparently his brother and the other warriors had gone that morning. Rather that race after them like an idiot, Fallon retreated to the old shack that had been his home for years with Alaric and Ava and broke down. He screamed and he raged and he prayed that his brother would return again, just one last time, but he never did. It was only then he realized how stupid he’d been for letting the gap between him and Noah stay so wide.

Noah never returned.

It was six months before he really gathered himself together to carry on with things. He became the story teller for the village like Alaric had been before him. He told the children stories that defied all possible imagination while the adults got on with things. After about a year and a half though, things got a little hectic. A very bad harvest had left the settlement running low on food and to make matters worse they’d gotten word of a small wolf pack that had been scavenging to close for anyone’s comfort. When the first body turned up and it was decided by the head of the settlement that they needed to do something about the wolves, when Fallon saw no one volunteering, he offered to go out and hunt the pack down. He was given a horse, supplies enough for a week if he stretched them, and sent on his way. Of course he wasn’t stupid and he didn’t really trust the villagers much, more so the so called leader that should’ve gone off with his damned warriors to war. He stopped by his home to retrieve what he would need, his bow was better than any dagger.

Setting out properly this time, he tracked the animals for a week before setting up a trap far enough away from the village that no one would be bothered by it. Rather than taking the wolves on all at one time he settled into picking them off, one or two over the space of a few days, then another few weeks would pass before he would take more out disrupting their routine and scaring them away from villages they even looked towards for their next meal. Eventually however, he got them  all and returned home with the wolf pelts almost a full year later. It was a bit of a shock to find that the settlement had changed so much, so many of the elders had passed on and the leadership had shifted to a new generation. One that Fallon knew all too well. Abner, son of Esca; One of the other boys that had missed out on the last war had taken over the headship to allow his father some peace through his final days. Fallon wasn’t allowed to approach the old leader directly and when he brought his ‘case’ to Abner, the other male dismissed him. Called him mad, said he’d made a pact with the devil because no one would’ve been able to kill a pack of wolves alone. Rather than accept or deny, Fallon dumped the wolf pelts at the man’s feet before walking away as Abner made it a law before everyone that he should be shunned. Any help of any kind would be met with a punishment and so on and so forth, Fallon didn’t catch the end of it. He did work out what was happening though about fortnight later when no one would look at him, trade, and talk or even walk by him without warding themselves.

It hurt Fallon to his core because of what he and his family had done for the village, but he was determined to weather the bad patch. Only it was a bit longer than any patch, for six full years passed and he was alone through it all. Starved of touch and conversation, Fallon withdrew into a hermit like lifestyle living in the village so to speak but not a part of it. Then the strangest thing happened, after returning from a fishing trip on the coast, Fallon almost walked smack bang into his brother. His dead ice cold to the touch brother. Naturally he gaped like a caught fish before bolting for his home leaving Noah standing there like a statue. He must have been mad! For the next two nights he was scared to close his eyes and stayed locked away in his home and then on the third night Noah banged on his door asking to come in. Rather than have an argument with his dead brother, Fallon invited him in…and fainted.

The following night Noah walked right in and Fallon didn’t even flinch but kicked out a seat from his table and going back to his stew. Since he believed he was mad at the time, Fallon happily listened to what Noah had to tell him for the next few weeks. Fairies were real? Could’ve fooled him! People changed into animals? Get out of here! Noah had been turned into the undead on the battlefield by the Lord Fallon had seen with him weeks previous….No, seriously, get out demon. Fallon snapped and the brotherly fight lasted for weeks before either one of them were calm again to sit in the same room without threats of impalement of some kind, and not once did Fallon tell his brother what had happened in the village to cause him to live like a hermit. He didn’t mark the year passing, but he did try his damnedest to try and fix things with Noah despite his frustration and then one night – exactly a year to the day – he met Master Mikhail. Noah was powerless to do anything as the old Master vampire deep rolled Fallon and tore into his throat.

Sometime later, Fallon woke up starving with fangs in his mouth. Naturally he panicked because he was no longer in his home and he was out of his element. Noah caught him before he could bolt anywhere and tried to explain things before Mikhail came to them. Apparently Mik had grown impatient and turned Fallon and now Fallon would live forever if he fed on the life blood of the living. Gods be damned! If Noah hadn’t already been dead, Fallon would have throttled him or Mikhail. Since he didn’t trust Mikhail as far as he could throw him, Fallon stuck to his brother’s side as the Master told him what was going to happen next and if he didn’t stop hissing and spitting like an annoyed kitten then he could easily die the true death. Rather than argue, Fallon accepted his fate and in a roundabout way, thought of it as a way to see if the old stories Alaric had told him were true. It didn’t stop him from cringing and whimpering when Noah and Mikhail showed him how to feed, and yet again another argument erupted between the brothers that left Mikhail ordering Noah away for the evening while Fallon stayed with Mikhail. He probably would have been scared by his brothers parting words “No, Master Mikhail. You won’t use him.” But he wasn’t. He found it exciting, almost as exhilarating as the rush of blood he’d taken from the girl they’d gotten him. Truth be told, he’d never liked any of the girls in their village because they were stuck up.

He should’ve been humiliated by the actions he took with his master but he wasn’t at all. In fact it was the first he’d really felt in years after having been starved of touch. It also explained why when Noah and Jasper had pushed girls towards him growing up, Fallon had sent them away. He wasn’t a virgin by any means, but it wasn’t something that he’d broadcasted in life. For once in a long time he was happy and content, and in a way it opened himself up to all kinds of guilty pleasures. While he learned to control his new instincts, Mikhail would use him when Noah misbehaved, and when Fallon misbehaved, he would use Noah. Both fledglings learned fast that their ‘father’ wouldn’t be swayed by a honeyed tongue and sweet actions eithers.

Centuries came and went and they travelled all over the world, and then one day Noah reached his Masterhood and the attention shifted from the two of them to Noah. Fallon was jealous and he hid it be slinking off more and more on his own and risked his neck more times than he could count. His brother was only six hundred and forty seven years old! Why couldn’t he have new powers as well? Oh yeah, he sulked. Mikhail snapped one evening and threw him in a coffin while Noah was away for an evening. The sulking turned to panic and out right fear. Being trapped in a box reduced him to nothing within hours and when Noah tore through it, Fallon clung to his brother and cried his eyes out for all he was worth. Fallon didn’t blame Mikhail at the end of the day, he hadn’t told anyone about his claustrophobia ever thinking it humiliating enough, but it was a good century before he felt truly comfortable about his maker again.

More time passed and as Fallon approached his seven hundredth and eleventh year as a vampire, something happened that changed him. Something clicked inside his head, he could feel werewolves and without knowing what he was doing he called the local pack to him. However that wasn’t the only thing that clicked in him, the Ardeur. Unbeknown to him, Noah and Mikhail had gotten into a little trouble with the church and Mikhail was using Fallon as a proxy to feed from. The pack wolves that came were sent into a lust induced frenzy and Fallon was in the centre of it and enjoying every moment. It wasn’t until a few evening safter that he found out one of the wolves that had come had been barely fifteen years old, shocked by that revolution, he waited patiently for his maker and brother to return, still riding the high from the new powers and feeding. Mikhail and Noah were just as surprised as he was when they came back. It was nice…

And then six hundred years later the nice changed. Fallon had grown bored living in his brother’s shadow as well as Mikhail’s and asked if he could leave, after asking his brother of course. Mikhail granted his wish and the brothers said good bye but promised to stay in touch. One thousand and three hundred years old and it was safe to say he’d learnt a lot in his time. He’d gotten a hold of his master powers, fed his incubus side on a regular basis so there’d never be a mistake again with the teenage wolf from when they first showed. He eventually settled in Coventry at age two thousand one hundred, but he hid his powers from the Mistress that accepted him into her Kiss. Morgana was an interesting woman, he’d been drawn to her beauty and she’d been drawn to his bloodline powers. He was her personal toy for the next five hundred years, he jumped when she said so, he started to plot her downfall when she personally tore into a werewolf and rather than letting the poor shapeshifter die, Morgana infected it with her corrupting bite. He was forced to watch as the young boy – barely eighteen – rotted to death in slow agony on the floor because she’d been insulted by the shirt he’d worn. When she’d been lulled into a false sense of security and had had enough of Fallon, she traded him away for something new. Little did she know that he’d given the Temion of her kiss the keys to take her down and the last thing he heard from Morgana or anyone within the Coventry Kiss was that the manor house had gone up in flames.

Oh well. Jackford was interesting enough, even though he’d been ‘gifted’ to the Master of the City at the time to do with as he pleased. Luckily, Fallon won him over and fought his way to the top by wit, skill and sheer power once he was settled in. The Kiss from what he could tell was really new and finding its feet, so he used it to his advantage to get a hold on the city over the next five hundred years. The only interesting thing that tickled his fancy was meeting a werewolf in 2007 on the outskirts of the city. Fallon had been dealing with a rogue alpha that had been the companion of a vampire that had insulted a previous Master of the City and out of a misguided sense of comradeship, Jesse attacked him after Fallon had killed the other werewolf and Fallon had no option but to defend himself from the spirited pup’s mauling while nursing wounds from the other wolf. Jesse staggered off and Fallon traced him back to the Pack house, rather than leaving the wolf to stay unconscious on the kitchen floor Fallon took him back to his home outside of the Kiss manor and patched him up as much as best as he could. When Jesse woke up, he came back singing and Fallon unknowingly gave him the first mark as an animal servant as he taunted and teased the irritable wolf before explaining what had happened. Simple enough right? Right.

Jesse decided to stay with him as his willing blood donor the following year and Fallon was ecstatic. Then he got a call from someone he hadn’t heard of in a long time in early 2010. Mikhail wanted him to return to deal with some delicate werewolf issues for him. He was surprised because he’d thought that Mikhail would’ve known other wolf callers but apparently not anyone as experienced as he was. Shrugging off his curiosity, he bade Jesse fair well and slipped across the pond to New York. Trouble was an understatement, there were four packs fighting for one territory! Fallon was in New York for just under a year and counted down the days until he could get home, he even had a chance to drop by New Jersey and visit Noah for a few nights before him came home to find Jesse picking a fight in one of the local clubs. Then when the last Master of the City left Jackford, Fallon did the only thing he could as he was still wheeling from the trip and familiar faces, he called his Maker and got the promise that Jackford wouldn’t be without a Master for long.

A fortnight later his brother showed up. [/LIST]</span>