Post by Hall on Feb 28, 2012 23:18:18 GMT 1
Playby: Sebastien Doury
Name: Hall Sebastien
Age: 21 years
Sex: Male
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
Species: Lycan
Physical Description:
Tall, dark and handsome, Hall is a little on the lean side from a life of constant near malnutrition though what mass he has is whiplash muscle like steel cable. Beneath his long, dark almost effeminate lashes his eyes are a startling shade of blue and his thick dark hair does whatever the hell it pleases. He sports a fresh, infernal looking brand on the left side of his chest.
Attitude:
Infuriatingly independent, Hall is confident and somewhat arrogant about his own capabilities. He has a certain charismatic charm when he chooses to employ it but doesn't generally have much time for other people unless they are hunting, fighting or fucking with him. Despite that he was still violently protective of his community and his few friends were ones he would die for.
Abilities:
Hall was a hunter/tracker/scavenger for his community. He is stealthy, athletic and tireless. Also an excellent shot with a rifle.
Being known as a total horn-dog even before he was infected, Hall has now totally lost control of his enhanced libido to the point of mania. He hates crowds and gets claustrophobic with more than three people in a room. He thinks like a loner and bridles against authority of any kind. Hall must consume human flesh at least weekly to live.
Standard abilities in Human form - Heightened senses - Double strength and speed - Rapid healing at 10x human - Unageing.
Standard abilities in Lycan form - Heightened senses - 6x average strength and speed - Extremely rapid healing rate - Able to sense fellow Lycans - Extremely heightened sense of smell.
Standard weaknesses - Vampire blood will weaken a Lycan greatly - Silver - Full moon shifting - Shifts under emotional distress - Heightened emotions especially anger and lust - The zombie virus will leave them in a permanent feral and rabid state - Must eat raw flesh to live.
History:
Hall was born into one of the outlying wasteland communities. They had less trouble with zombies than many, perhaps because of their location, but they couldn't farm and lived by the efforts of those who went out hunting and scavenging, dangerous occupations and highly respected within the community. Hall was a third generation hunter and his family were quite literally pillars of the community.
When the community fell, it was not to zombies but to demons and the mob of sycophantic humans that served them like camp followers. Very few died during the takeover, the demons wanted the people taken alive, they had far more twisted ideas than simple death for the unfortunates. While their human servants tore the town apart, taking everything worth having and destroying everything else, the two petty demons began to play a game...
They divided the population into halves, each branding their pawns, and pitted them one against the other for wagers. Some contests were petty and pointless, a game of cards with the loser getting their head ripped off. Some were inherently lethal, leaping fire or walking hot coals. The contests became more elaborate and brutal as the population dwindled and those survivors were veterans of the cruel games.
When the town had been reduced to only a handful of warm bodies and the mob was ready to move on, the demons revealed their last game when they dragged out a captive lycan and vampire. The two creatures were crippled and sick, fed mostly on each others blood to keep them weak and manageable. After drawing lots to see which went to whom, the two demons set about the processes of converting the survivors into a more 'exciting' proposition for their final hunt.
With the moon full and high in the sky, the agonised and convulsing lycan was forced to bite Hall and two others 'belonging' to their demonic 'master'. The resulting fever was brutal but the demon wanted to add spice not real danger to the game and so it left the curse unsealed and the new lycans without human blood, weak and fever sick, or so it thought. The lycan however was not quite so weak and subdued as it pretended to be and saw an opportunity for revenge, or even the hope of rescue.
Hall half woke from his fevered delirium with the lycan forcing blood down his throat. He didn't know where it had come from but it was human and fresh and it soothed the raging fever in him and flooded new strength into his limbs. The lycan was murmuring softly not to him but over him some sort of chant as it at coaxed him to accept more blood. It hissed quietly as it left him to exhausted sleep, "New Vegas. Under-city. Find Dmitrius. Tell him... Cly sent you."
When the newly created monsters were released for the hunt it came as a shock to the pursuing demon when the supposedly weak and fevered new lycan that it cornered in the old ruined building roared its rage and transformed into a strong, healthy and very pissed off lycan. Hall of course doesn't remember a thing after that, his first transformation, apart from the most horrifying, excruciating, and seemingly endless pain...
Waking up alive was a huge plus, but it wouldn't last long out in the wastelands alone, and the growing pain in his stomach was driving him to distraction. For all he knew the two demons were still out there somewhere, angry and hunting for him. He needed to get to New Vegas and get some answers about what exactly the hell 'Cly' has done to him...
Rule Code Word: Elek is made of awesome
Species Code Word: Moonkin
Clarification Code Word: Firefly
Rp Sample:
Night had fallen once again and the bright, near full moon waned ominously over the desert, casting sharp shadows amongst the ruins of the settlement. Two men were digging up what appeared to be a shallow grave in the centre of the destroyed town. Presently they exhumed four bodies, who variously groaned and begged, struggling weakly. A high shrill voice giggled maniacally. “Hurry up... mine are done.†it called out. A second voice was raised in the night. “Up, up you flea-ridden mutts!†and more sick groans joined the night chorus as three more bodies were roused roughly to wakefulness from where they lay in feverish restless, near-sleep.
Hall groaned as he was kicked awake. Of the three he alone had been truly sleeping and had recovered much of his strength from the short time they had been allowed. He wondered if the visitation from the other prisoner had been a nightmare, if it had simply been a fevered dream then he had nothing to fear from the memory of just how sweet the taste of blood had been in his mouth. If it was real... he didn't even want to think about that yet. The fever in him had been greatly soothed, not so that of his two companions. Sweat formed and trickled down their skin and their eyes were bright and glassy. Hall had known these people all his life and today he was looking into the half-frenzied faces of strangers.
A whip cracked and they were herded into what had been the centre square of the small town. The new lycans snarled but moved with a stooped gait and jerky feral motions. Hall didn't have to pretend to the snarl, it fell from his lips disturbingly easily. His instinct however was to move in a smooth predatory prowl, and he quickly caught himself, emulating the other two, he did not want to draw the demons' attention to himself before they unchained him. Fortune was with him tonight it seemed, and Hall was the first to be released. With only a moments hesitation to glance around one last time at what had been his home and his life, he tore away into the night to the whoops and jeers of the brigands.
“New Vegas. Under-city.†the rasping voice echoed in his memory. Dream or reality it seemed to Hall like he was running out of alternatives. With the moonlight bright and sharp overhead, Hall ran.
