Post by christian on Jun 7, 2012 21:24:39 GMT 1
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Playby: Heath Ledger[/center]
Name: Christian LeFévre
Age: 29
Sex: Allll Man
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Species: Human/Hunter
Physical Description: Rugged and unkempt, Christian isn’t ever seen without his trusty five o’clock shadow, and with the world in such disarray, it looks like that won’t ever change. He stands at an even six feet, weighing in at 184 lbs. He's not the most terrifying specimen of physical strength, and the wear and tear of every day survival has without a doubt taken its toll on an otherwise attractive man, but he can damn sure hold his own. Sandy blonde hair is always kept short and his brown eyes are constantly observing and surveying, ready for whatever might come lurking in from the shadows. As far as clothing is concerned, Christian was never in possession of any sort of style, throwing on whatever he could find that would at least somewhat suit the weather. This usually consists of jeans and t-shirts, hopefully without any blood stains but you can’t always get what you want. One thing he’s adamant about having are his weapons, various knives and daggers and a pistol passed down to Christian by his father are strategically attached to his person at all times. Other than that he doesn’t care much about his appearance, rather focusing on ridding our god forsaken planet of the horrible creatures that are now in control.
Attitude: Rumor has it that Christian LeFévre is, by all intents and purposes, crazy. He tends to keep to himself for the most part, unless you get him angry (which isn’t hard to do). You can often hear him muttering to himself, planning and strategizing in secret conversations that only he’s allowed to hear. But he’s smart and he knows his way around a fight, which is what makes him a valuable asset to have around as long as you don’t mind the occasional violent outburst and drunken rampage. He’s not bad at heart, just a man torn down by loss and lack of stability. He’s cold and closed off to most, paranoid and distrusting to the rest, constantly assuming that the world is out to get him (and eat him). But there is one thing he loves, and that’s humanity, even if he doesn’t know how to show it aside from killing “monsters”. And when it comes to that Christian tends to be a bit obsessive. He lives and breathes for the kill and it’s become an unhealthy outlet for him, taking precedence over all other aspects of his life. He forgets to eat, refuses to sleep and you can forget about relationships… he knows one thing and he knows it well. He has two great passions in his life: alcohol and killing, and the man hardly has any consideration for etiquette, whatever etiquette there may be. Perks of being an angry man. He does have a soft spot for kids, though he may not show it too well. Innocent and unprepared for the world they live in, Christian feels their protection is the first priority when it comes to defense. All that said, he's a man with a plan and the will to make it happen, and thats really all that matters, right?
Abilities: Christian has no superhuman abilities, however he is very skilled with a blade and in hand to hand combat. He doesn’t like the sneaky, kill you from a distance routine and much prefers the in-your-face route. He’s studied the creatures, the way they move and fight, and knows well enough how to hold his own when pitted against one. His weaknesses are pretty much any and everything a human is susceptible to: knives, guns, powers, all that good stuff.
History: Christian was born 29 years after the fall of civilization into a small traveling colony of surviving humans near the east coast, and he adapted to their nomad lifestyle all too well having never known anything else. His grandfather had been an accomplished soldier before the apocalypse and had passed the love of battle and the ability to survive down to Christian’s father, who in turn passed it to Christian. His father was very particular when it came to teaching the boy how to fight, how to defend and how to kill. He instilled the belief that all creatures that weren’t human were evil and would kill you without hesitation if given the chance, so you needed to kill them first. Christian grew up sleeping with one eye open and keeping a constant watch over his shoulder.
On Christian's tenth birthday, his father sat him down and revealed the "family secret" as it were, explaining that many generations of LeFévre men (and a few women) had dedicated their lives to hunting down the evil creatures that, up until this point, had lurked in the shadows. At that point Christian had already been trained to handle a weapon, and (not to brag) he was pretty damn good at it. It was in his blood, it was his destiny. For hundreds of years LeFévre's had been trying to rid the world of a hidden evil and the weight to uphold such a violently noble cause would soon be on Christian's shoulders. Armed with the knowledge passed down from generation to generation on the pages of a small leather bound notebook, he would spend the next chapter of his life training and learning. The next year would be the one that defined him as a hunter; the year he killed his first vampire. It was a moment he'd never forget and a moment he would celebrate for the rest of his life. The look of pride on his father's face was irreplaceable, just as the way his mother refused to let him free from her crippling embrace, relieved to see that he was still alive (you know how mother's can be) was endearing. Truth was he hadn't done it alone, his father was there to make sure everything went smoothly, but you best believe Christian was taking all the glory for this one. After that first taste of blood and victory, there was no going back.
When he was 18 years old, his mother was brutally killed by s group of zombies when their camp was stumbled upon by the infected creatures in the middle of the night. Christian, his father, and two others were the only people made it out alive, though the emotional devastation was as worse a fate as death. Christian’s father began to become more and more paranoid and angry; something in him had snapped. He began to tell the boy how everyone was going to die and there was nothing they could do to protect anyone, that no one could be trusted anymore. This continued for three months until Christian’s father committed suicide, and the memory of that day was one he tried all too well to forget, and yet one that would end up haunting him forever. His father had gone off to find some food, and after an hour Christian and his two companions went in search only to find the man sitting in an abandoned building with both his wrists cut, knife laying inches from his body and a bloodied note clenched in his fist.
Christian,
I love you, but I can't bear to be apart from your mom any longer. If this means I've failed as a father, I'm sorry. Take the journal, take my gun, and I know you'll make me proud.
PS, don't you dare cry.
Christian he did exactly what his father had instructed. He grabbed the journal, filled to the brim with extensive details on how to kill every known evil, their weaknesses and strengths, movements and behaviors. It was a book filled with priceless knowledge that Christian would guard with his life, especially now that it was one of the few things he had to remember his family by. He quickly flipped through the journal to a page in the very back where a list of names had been scribbled down. There was his father's name, his grandfather's, and so on, back until he didn't even recognize the names anymore. It was a list of every family member that had taken up the cause and committed their lives to the extermination of these abominable creatures that now walked the earth freely. Christian's eyes trailed back down the bottom of the page where his father's name was written, took out a pen, and signed his own underneath. He left without a word that night, unsure of where he was even going, and he took the life of any creature he came into contact with along the way. Killing would now become more than just a hobby, more than just something his family did. No, now it would become an obsession. He no longer cared if he lived or died, only that while he was alive, the monsters responsible for his mother’s death and his father’s eventual suicide would pay. That anger spread from just zombies to every dark being as he couldn’t keep his need for revenge from mutating into a hatred for nearly everything inhuman.
As the years passed, Christian became an expert in the art of the hunt and he found himself bouncing from place to place, small human community to small human community, killing creatures whenever the opportunity would present itself and losing part of his sanity with each kill. Most people weren’t comfortable with him and the fact he seemed somewhat disconnected from reality. Watching as he would obsessively plan and strategize… and drink. But he wouldn't ever stay in one place for too long, and he eventually made his way into Nevada where he found Haven, and it seemed as good a home as any. Its been six months since Christian arrived and he’s found more than enough tasks to occupy his time.
Rule Code Word: Elek is made of awesome.
Species Code Word: Skinny caramel macchiato to go.
Clarification Code Word: Firefly
Citizens Laws and Vampire Laws Code Words: Vampires do not attack innocent humans.
Rp Sample: A blood-curdling sound filled the area as Christian pulled the blade from his victim’s skull, brown eyes set intently upon the figure as it stumbled back a few steps, body coming to rest in a small ditch not 10 feet from where he stood. The sandy blonde muttered something under his breath before he turned to face the young boy who had been hiding behind an old dumpster. ”What the hell were you doing running around by yourself, kid?” his words laced with frustration, ”You know those damn zombies are dying to make a snack out of your scrawny ass.” Inside he smiled, somewhat amused at his unintentional “dying” joke. Zombies are dead, dying to make a snack of him… funny stuff. But he could tell the boy had been scared out of his mind by the zombie attack, thank god Christian just happened to be strolling by as the creature closed in on the kid, or he would have been zombie meat.
Christian grabbed the boy’s arm firmly and yanked him up off the ground, ”You see the problem is no one thinks anymore. Always rushing- always running off- looking for trouble and boy, it’s going to find the hell outta you. Find you and kill you; rip that face of yours right off and then...” Christian started to pace as his words trailed off. It was just as well since the boy could hardly understand a word of it anyway. Christian tended to speak incredibly fast when he was frustrated. Waving his arms around dramatically as he continued his rant, occasionally glancing back at the boy, still scared and shaken, as he should be. Christian knew the kid; he wasn’t more than 12 years old and went by the name of Marcus, or Mason, or Kyle or something. He abruptly stopped talking and nodded towards the small knife gripped tightly in Marcus/Mason/Kyle’s hand, ”You decided to go hunting, huh?” The boy nodded, looking down at the ground.
Christian took the knife, looking it over as he mumbled to himself. “No… no…” he threw the knife on the ground and kicked it a few feet away before looking back at the kid, ”You’re not going to get anywhere with that.” Patting his body down for a moment, he found what he was looking for: a simple dagger, sturdy but simple. He held it out for the boy to take. ”Take it. I don’t want it.” The kid grabbed it eagerly, admiring it in the sunlight a moment as Christian grabbed him by the back of his shirt and began to drag him back to Haven, ”I catch you out here again and I’m going to let those things have their way with you, got it?” he threatened nonchalantly, as though he wouldn't care at all. The boy nodded fearfully in reply as his eyes followed the path in front of them. Christian was crazy, as far as most of the rebels knew, who’s to say he wouldn’t feed a kid to zombies? He let the kid go, pushing him ahead slightly as they both made their way back to the safety of Haven’s walls.
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[/size]
Playby: Heath Ledger[/center]
Name: Christian LeFévre
Age: 29
Sex: Allll Man
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Species: Human/Hunter
Physical Description: Rugged and unkempt, Christian isn’t ever seen without his trusty five o’clock shadow, and with the world in such disarray, it looks like that won’t ever change. He stands at an even six feet, weighing in at 184 lbs. He's not the most terrifying specimen of physical strength, and the wear and tear of every day survival has without a doubt taken its toll on an otherwise attractive man, but he can damn sure hold his own. Sandy blonde hair is always kept short and his brown eyes are constantly observing and surveying, ready for whatever might come lurking in from the shadows. As far as clothing is concerned, Christian was never in possession of any sort of style, throwing on whatever he could find that would at least somewhat suit the weather. This usually consists of jeans and t-shirts, hopefully without any blood stains but you can’t always get what you want. One thing he’s adamant about having are his weapons, various knives and daggers and a pistol passed down to Christian by his father are strategically attached to his person at all times. Other than that he doesn’t care much about his appearance, rather focusing on ridding our god forsaken planet of the horrible creatures that are now in control.
Attitude: Rumor has it that Christian LeFévre is, by all intents and purposes, crazy. He tends to keep to himself for the most part, unless you get him angry (which isn’t hard to do). You can often hear him muttering to himself, planning and strategizing in secret conversations that only he’s allowed to hear. But he’s smart and he knows his way around a fight, which is what makes him a valuable asset to have around as long as you don’t mind the occasional violent outburst and drunken rampage. He’s not bad at heart, just a man torn down by loss and lack of stability. He’s cold and closed off to most, paranoid and distrusting to the rest, constantly assuming that the world is out to get him (and eat him). But there is one thing he loves, and that’s humanity, even if he doesn’t know how to show it aside from killing “monsters”. And when it comes to that Christian tends to be a bit obsessive. He lives and breathes for the kill and it’s become an unhealthy outlet for him, taking precedence over all other aspects of his life. He forgets to eat, refuses to sleep and you can forget about relationships… he knows one thing and he knows it well. He has two great passions in his life: alcohol and killing, and the man hardly has any consideration for etiquette, whatever etiquette there may be. Perks of being an angry man. He does have a soft spot for kids, though he may not show it too well. Innocent and unprepared for the world they live in, Christian feels their protection is the first priority when it comes to defense. All that said, he's a man with a plan and the will to make it happen, and thats really all that matters, right?
Abilities: Christian has no superhuman abilities, however he is very skilled with a blade and in hand to hand combat. He doesn’t like the sneaky, kill you from a distance routine and much prefers the in-your-face route. He’s studied the creatures, the way they move and fight, and knows well enough how to hold his own when pitted against one. His weaknesses are pretty much any and everything a human is susceptible to: knives, guns, powers, all that good stuff.
History: Christian was born 29 years after the fall of civilization into a small traveling colony of surviving humans near the east coast, and he adapted to their nomad lifestyle all too well having never known anything else. His grandfather had been an accomplished soldier before the apocalypse and had passed the love of battle and the ability to survive down to Christian’s father, who in turn passed it to Christian. His father was very particular when it came to teaching the boy how to fight, how to defend and how to kill. He instilled the belief that all creatures that weren’t human were evil and would kill you without hesitation if given the chance, so you needed to kill them first. Christian grew up sleeping with one eye open and keeping a constant watch over his shoulder.
On Christian's tenth birthday, his father sat him down and revealed the "family secret" as it were, explaining that many generations of LeFévre men (and a few women) had dedicated their lives to hunting down the evil creatures that, up until this point, had lurked in the shadows. At that point Christian had already been trained to handle a weapon, and (not to brag) he was pretty damn good at it. It was in his blood, it was his destiny. For hundreds of years LeFévre's had been trying to rid the world of a hidden evil and the weight to uphold such a violently noble cause would soon be on Christian's shoulders. Armed with the knowledge passed down from generation to generation on the pages of a small leather bound notebook, he would spend the next chapter of his life training and learning. The next year would be the one that defined him as a hunter; the year he killed his first vampire. It was a moment he'd never forget and a moment he would celebrate for the rest of his life. The look of pride on his father's face was irreplaceable, just as the way his mother refused to let him free from her crippling embrace, relieved to see that he was still alive (you know how mother's can be) was endearing. Truth was he hadn't done it alone, his father was there to make sure everything went smoothly, but you best believe Christian was taking all the glory for this one. After that first taste of blood and victory, there was no going back.
When he was 18 years old, his mother was brutally killed by s group of zombies when their camp was stumbled upon by the infected creatures in the middle of the night. Christian, his father, and two others were the only people made it out alive, though the emotional devastation was as worse a fate as death. Christian’s father began to become more and more paranoid and angry; something in him had snapped. He began to tell the boy how everyone was going to die and there was nothing they could do to protect anyone, that no one could be trusted anymore. This continued for three months until Christian’s father committed suicide, and the memory of that day was one he tried all too well to forget, and yet one that would end up haunting him forever. His father had gone off to find some food, and after an hour Christian and his two companions went in search only to find the man sitting in an abandoned building with both his wrists cut, knife laying inches from his body and a bloodied note clenched in his fist.
Christian,
I love you, but I can't bear to be apart from your mom any longer. If this means I've failed as a father, I'm sorry. Take the journal, take my gun, and I know you'll make me proud.
PS, don't you dare cry.
Christian he did exactly what his father had instructed. He grabbed the journal, filled to the brim with extensive details on how to kill every known evil, their weaknesses and strengths, movements and behaviors. It was a book filled with priceless knowledge that Christian would guard with his life, especially now that it was one of the few things he had to remember his family by. He quickly flipped through the journal to a page in the very back where a list of names had been scribbled down. There was his father's name, his grandfather's, and so on, back until he didn't even recognize the names anymore. It was a list of every family member that had taken up the cause and committed their lives to the extermination of these abominable creatures that now walked the earth freely. Christian's eyes trailed back down the bottom of the page where his father's name was written, took out a pen, and signed his own underneath. He left without a word that night, unsure of where he was even going, and he took the life of any creature he came into contact with along the way. Killing would now become more than just a hobby, more than just something his family did. No, now it would become an obsession. He no longer cared if he lived or died, only that while he was alive, the monsters responsible for his mother’s death and his father’s eventual suicide would pay. That anger spread from just zombies to every dark being as he couldn’t keep his need for revenge from mutating into a hatred for nearly everything inhuman.
As the years passed, Christian became an expert in the art of the hunt and he found himself bouncing from place to place, small human community to small human community, killing creatures whenever the opportunity would present itself and losing part of his sanity with each kill. Most people weren’t comfortable with him and the fact he seemed somewhat disconnected from reality. Watching as he would obsessively plan and strategize… and drink. But he wouldn't ever stay in one place for too long, and he eventually made his way into Nevada where he found Haven, and it seemed as good a home as any. Its been six months since Christian arrived and he’s found more than enough tasks to occupy his time.
Rule Code Word: Elek is made of awesome.
Species Code Word: Skinny caramel macchiato to go.
Clarification Code Word: Firefly
Citizens Laws and Vampire Laws Code Words: Vampires do not attack innocent humans.
Rp Sample: A blood-curdling sound filled the area as Christian pulled the blade from his victim’s skull, brown eyes set intently upon the figure as it stumbled back a few steps, body coming to rest in a small ditch not 10 feet from where he stood. The sandy blonde muttered something under his breath before he turned to face the young boy who had been hiding behind an old dumpster. ”What the hell were you doing running around by yourself, kid?” his words laced with frustration, ”You know those damn zombies are dying to make a snack out of your scrawny ass.” Inside he smiled, somewhat amused at his unintentional “dying” joke. Zombies are dead, dying to make a snack of him… funny stuff. But he could tell the boy had been scared out of his mind by the zombie attack, thank god Christian just happened to be strolling by as the creature closed in on the kid, or he would have been zombie meat.
Christian grabbed the boy’s arm firmly and yanked him up off the ground, ”You see the problem is no one thinks anymore. Always rushing- always running off- looking for trouble and boy, it’s going to find the hell outta you. Find you and kill you; rip that face of yours right off and then...” Christian started to pace as his words trailed off. It was just as well since the boy could hardly understand a word of it anyway. Christian tended to speak incredibly fast when he was frustrated. Waving his arms around dramatically as he continued his rant, occasionally glancing back at the boy, still scared and shaken, as he should be. Christian knew the kid; he wasn’t more than 12 years old and went by the name of Marcus, or Mason, or Kyle or something. He abruptly stopped talking and nodded towards the small knife gripped tightly in Marcus/Mason/Kyle’s hand, ”You decided to go hunting, huh?” The boy nodded, looking down at the ground.
Christian took the knife, looking it over as he mumbled to himself. “No… no…” he threw the knife on the ground and kicked it a few feet away before looking back at the kid, ”You’re not going to get anywhere with that.” Patting his body down for a moment, he found what he was looking for: a simple dagger, sturdy but simple. He held it out for the boy to take. ”Take it. I don’t want it.” The kid grabbed it eagerly, admiring it in the sunlight a moment as Christian grabbed him by the back of his shirt and began to drag him back to Haven, ”I catch you out here again and I’m going to let those things have their way with you, got it?” he threatened nonchalantly, as though he wouldn't care at all. The boy nodded fearfully in reply as his eyes followed the path in front of them. Christian was crazy, as far as most of the rebels knew, who’s to say he wouldn’t feed a kid to zombies? He let the kid go, pushing him ahead slightly as they both made their way back to the safety of Haven’s walls.
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