Post by sam on Mar 14, 2010 21:18:35 GMT -7
THE HANDLER
NAME: Sama’el Var Lovelace
NICKNAME: Sam, sammy, wolf, fuzzy, bristles, growly,
CLASSIFICATION: Lycanthrope
GENDER: Male
AGE & BIRTHDAY: 28, October 13th
APPEARANCE: Tall at 6’ even, he is very athletic looking, weighing in at 160 pounds, tissue is mostly leaned muscle toned to balance out his frame. He has broad, widened shoulders that work his body into a 'v' shape from his waist up. His limbs are long and sun basked from living in the wilds, their strength showing plainly whenever he moves, flexing tendon rippling up and down their length. Shoulders roll and arms move as if he were using them to walk on all fours. Stride is very well placed, light and easy. Scars cover him from head to toe in criss-crossing patterns that decorate in pale stripes of his tough life. Very much animal-like in move and feature, he isn’t exactly the beautiful type but an eye catcher for sure in a crowd, predatory demeanor clear amongst normal humans. A large scar cuts deep in his side, starting at the bottom of his ribcage and slashing down to his thigh, pale and raggedly ugly against his skin.
His face isn’t without the gruesome souvenirs of life, the right half covered by claw marks that start above his right eye and end at his jawbone. Otherwise, he might have been seen as roughly hansom, carved features fit with a strong jawline and high cheekbones that greatly show canid angles in his facial structure. Face is darkly shadowed and almost cruel looking in certain lights, harshly shaped to fit his gloomy and angered moods. Canines are forever longer and wider, showing his feral blood clearly whenever they are barred. Both bottom and top are irregular, top being more long, while bottom are more wide, offering a sharper smile that could scare the skin off anyone who did not already know if his beastly nature. He is more prone to facial hair than others, and carries a light beard when he can get away with looking ragged around work. His hair is a mixture of dark hazels, coppers, and even blacks. On his head it is cut short, always looking as if he has just rolled out of bed even when he does brush it. Eyes are hazel, bits of honey brown fleck them around the center, and green dominates the outer edges. In darkness or when emotion rules him, they flash a bestial liquid yellow-gold that are reflective like cat's eyes.
ATTIRE: Thin shirts and jeans are found on him regularly, thin material is always preferred because of his high body temperature and for easy tearing if he is ever caught in the middle of a change. He always likes the darker colors, blacks blues and steel grays. For footwear, he has either tennis shoes on or motorcycle boots. He favors a battered leather jacket, its sleeves torn and frayed, patches and stitches up areas covering it. Most of his clothing is heavily used-looking, torn with holes after being worn through a change.
PLAY BY: N/A
THE CREATION
NAME: Wolf
POWER LIST:
1)Inhuman senses
2)Healing
3)Lycanthropy
DETAILED POWER: Rarely do others sneak up on him, for he can hear the drop of a pin several yards away, and can smell a person from several miles away. He can track someone by their scent, in rain and even snow, if he remembers the scent and keeps it in memory. He can also see in the dark as if it were broad daylight. But a flaw to these abilities is sharp, very high pitches noises hurt his ears and make him crumple, as well as very bright light and stinging smells like pepper-spray.
He can heal wounds and brush off shots to the head and chest as if they were nothing. They close up on their own within seconds, minutes if they are really deep. This does take energy out of him, and makes him dizzy and sore depending on the wound. And he cannot grow back lopped of limbs, but anything inside of him with heal immediately. If examined closely when he gets injured, you will see dark fur underneath his skin. Anytime he is cut or shot, it will reveal the fur. This is part of the reason of his healing abilities, the skin being only a sort of ‘costume’ over his lycan form. This also makes him very warm compared to regular humans, his body temperature higher than normal fever temperatures. He can stand out in freezing cold and feel warm, even swim during the winter and feel nice and cozy. But warm temperatures make him sweat easily, even the slightest rise will be very uncomfortable for him. He can’t stand it, and avoids fire and any sort of heater.
The change is a horrible brutal process to watch. The faster he changes, the more painful and wild he is. Human thoughts and control remain when he changes slowly, but ripping off his skin can cause him to act in a bloodlusting state that he can’t control. He won’t even remember most of what happened during these quick changes. So he only ever does it quick when he knows only the enemy will be harmed, and none of his friends. During the change his skin bulges and rips off, muscles and bone underneath stretch and crack, breaking and expanding as his skin peels off to reveal the thick fur coat that grows as the change continues. Claws pop through his nails, and hands become more paw-like with stubby fingers and extended claws. His whole body pulls and broadens into a sort of bi-pedal wolf with human features and brawny muscle. Standing on his back legs he towers over the average human, almost 7' with wide muscles and a body-builders mold. His skull is all wolf, muzzle long and mouth full of long razor-sharp fangs. The main canines are saber-like, longer than the rest of his teeth and sticking out below his chin. His ears are pulled at the sides of his skull, long and sharp tipped, not anything like normal wolf ears. His tail is long and beastly, cords of hair flaring out like a lion's tail at the end. He stands on his back legs with ease, but can also sprint and climb on all fours. Longer hair sprouts from the back of his neck, dark shades of chocolate and charcoal. His main fur is jet black, copper glow hitting here and there on his joins and face. Eyes are a bright yellow-gold, human and very much intelligent. In wolf form he is very much unstoppable. He can climb vertical walls simply by digging his claws into the stone, can jump amazing heights, and can lift cars easy. Its natural for a werewolf to do such feats of raw physical power, and snapping someone like a twig is only a toned down version of what he could do to someone in this form
Of course all these gifts come with a price. He must eat twice his weight in raw meat everyday to keep his energy and health up. He can eat normal human meals, but they don't give even a little bit of the energy that he gets from bloody raw flesh. Cooked meat will only give a little of it, he would have to eat even more of that to get all the energy he needs. If he stops eating the stuff, he will slowly grow weak, loosing his senses and strengths until he either passes out or goes into a killing spree. Healing will also lack when he doesn’t feed, any wounds that he has healed before will open up and start to bleed after a while. A very unsavory fact for him is that fresh, human flesh is even better for him than the regular beef or wild game that he feeds on. He avoids even the thought of such a meal, but on nights of the full moon, he tends to take a taste to such unmoral meals when rampant and wild, never even remembering such acts the next day.
THE POTENTIAL
ALIGNMENT/OCCUPATION: Former Bureau member, now neutral
WEAPONS: Doesn’t need any
PERSONALITY: Cold and concealed, he doesn’t talk often and keeps to himself, his callous appearance warding other away. Known for his explosive rages, he won’t hesitate to throw someone out of a window if pushed to it. He will likely ignore teasing, but even lightly touching him in a negative way will get you killed. If he’s in a bad mood, he’ll cut you down with vicious retorts, none very merciful on where they hit. He might not be a bad person, but it would have been hard to guess if first met. But he has his morals, and knows good from bad. He won’t let innocent people die, and will certainly come to their defense in a fight. He doesn’t take kindly to bullies, and has a habit of showing them their place. The second a person is emotionally harmed, he will be there to comfort and protect. Its this oft side that should be savored, for they are few and far between. Only when he sense pain does he come to their rescue, a shoulder to cry on and terribly loyal. These people will never leave his heart, as comrades and allies, even friends, if their trust runs deep in him. He’ll disappear once their need of him is gone, gruffly responding and from then on barely acknowledging that he had even been nice to them.
He has problems with tears and pain, he thinks that he cannot show weakness. That if he ever did, it would mean he has failed being the hero that people need, that mankind needs. Any emotional breakdown of his will be devastating, and often mixed with anger and sorrow. It would take a lot for one of these to be triggered, and he would rather hide it all away than show it. If someone ever got down to his soft side, the side that seemingly disappeared the moment he became what he is now, it would never be lost again. Fun loving, childish, and most of all laid back, this side has been buried for a very long time. Only the very closest to his heart could pry this away slowly, and even then, its an emotional wound for him. Finding this is like searching in the dark, and opening it up is like making your way through a maze.
SKILLS: Tracking, hunting, boxing, martial arts, wrestling, climbing,
STRENGTHS:
- Very physically fit and strong
- Act like nothing touches him, whether its words or bullets
- Very heroic and brave
- Not easily phased or deterred
- Tough
WEAKNESSES:
- Very violent
- Bad-tempered
- Thinks showing weakness is bad
- Silver: if it gets in his bloodstream it will immediately kill him, if even touched to his skin it burns.
-Wolfsbane: Highly allergic to it, eating it can kill him while lightly touching his skin causes him to bleed, and touching it to an open wound keeps it from healing.
THE STORY
HISTORY: Sam was born deep in a wild forest, on the edge of the human world where the creatures had almost forgotten that such a beast known as man existed. His mother was human, but so kind to the forest that the animals did not fear her. His father, on the other hand, was full blooded lycan. He walked as a monstrous wolf on every night, and during the day walked as a man that the creatures of the forest feared and respected, his wolfish nature controlling him fully. Sam never knew his father fully, for his mother protected him from his father. Sam lived a happy childhood, running through the forest and eating wild grown food and game. He knew how to hunt and track by the age of twelve, and none of the lycan blood had shown so far, his mother hoped that Sam would not take after his father in that way. But, on the night of his fourteenth birthday, it was clear that the blood had pooled deep in him. He was cutting a roasted pheasant open when the blade slipped, grazed his hand wide open, but instead of blood spilling freely, dark fur showed under the skin, and the wound closed up. The curse was thrown upon his shoulders, and his mother wept. The signs slowly increased, his senses growing with the passing days. The full moons were rampant and bloody nights for him, his uncontrollable hunger pushing him to murder animals and humans that passed through the forest. Never did he touch his mother though, some instinct always driving him away from their home when the change took him. His father began to appear in Sam’s life, in the forest when Sam was alone, coming to him and encouraging the bloodlust and change, saying it was a gift and not a curse. He taught Sam to control it, but made him kill human travelers that would come into the forest. Sam was torn between the hunger for human flesh and the pain of knowing what he was doing was wrong.
This continued, until the humans started to push father into the forest, dominating and destroying in their hunger for more land. Sam’s father disappeared when Sam was sixteen, relieving him of the gruesome training. But the humans posed a new threat to his well being, their numbers increasing as the forest slowly filled with sounds of footsteps and the unnatural clangs of metal and electronics. The humans had yet to find the hidden home, but it wouldn’t be long before they did. Sam was fascinated by them, watching them like a wolf on a flock of sheep. He soon came to watch a particular young girl about his age, climbing trees and watching her from the shadows of the forest. When he was brave enough he confronted the girl, and they fell in love soon after. He didn’t tell her of his lycanthropy, always fearful that she wouldn’t accept him. And though, his mother knew of his human relationship, she didn’t spite him for it at all, considering she was in the same predicament with Sam’s father. But, Sam’s father wasn’t as merciful. One night, when Sam and the girl were together, his father came for the girl, wanting no such romance for his son. Sam defended the girl, changing and attacking his father. The large scar on his side is a result from this. In the end, Sam’s strength surpassed his father’s, and he ended up killing him. When he approached the girl, she screamed and ran, calling him a monster, a beast, even after he strived to save her life.
Years passed, and the forest was control by human hands. His mother moved farther away, leaving Sam on his own when she discovered he had killed his father. He moved into the human world, the change one that radically changed him, hardened him. He worked in physical labor, construction and roofing mostly. He didn’t have much to do in his spare time, and martial arts classes and boxing found him easily, Sam being too animal-like to just sit around and watch T.V. or do whatever ‘fun’ humans did. But normal life never lasted for him, and one night he was caught at the wrong place at the wrong time. Late at night in a city park he was caught between a Bureau team fighting off a monster of some sort. They hadn’t known he was still in the park at the time, and when he was in the cross fire on instinct he ripped into his wolf form and attacked the beast, tackling it and killing it faster than any bullets could have. They had to restrain him before he could harm the team as well, and when Sam woke up the next morning, he was at the Bureau. He was twenty-two years old when he joined them, and he was twenty-seven when he left them. The life of a hero was not one for him, and being around people who killed his own kind like rabid dogs only sickened him, his father's influence pulsing in his veins and driving him to leaving the organization. He didn't belong anywhere, not as a hero, not as a villain. He couldn't bring himself to kill innocent humans, though he thought often about it. And he couldn't help a cause that killed off creatures that shared the same world as his. Maybe he would find his own redemption, or his own destruction.
