Post by Darius on Aug 12, 2012 20:30:40 GMT -5
GENERAL
Birth Name: Darius Bauer
Race: Lycan, born human
Age: 32 years, 12 spent as a lycan.
Gender: Male
Occupation: Previously a pickpocket, currently assuming a leadership role of the Doomhowl clan
Birthplace: Basom, NY
Current Location: Athens, Greece
Family Relations: Mother's whereabouts unknown, Father incarcerated at a federal penitentiory.
Weapon: In his youth he was known to carry a knife, but not since his transformation has he felt the need to carry a weapon
Other Items Owned: Several articles of clothing, some his, some stolen.
BACKGROUND
Personality:
Detailed History:Darius was born and raised just a few miles west of the indian reservation. He has no recollection of his mother, who skipped town shortly after his birth, leaving him in the care of his alcoholic father. Life was rather difficult for him. It's not that his father was abusive, that wasn't the case at all. In fact, Darius doubted that his father was capable of laying a hand on him, considering the fact that when his father wasn't drinking in some dive bar, he was unconscious on the floor of the kitchen. As his father was often unemployed, the two often relied on income from less than legal sources, often stealing, and on occasion, dealing various illicit drugs. Over the years, he'd grown to hate the establishment. In his view, the government, no society itself was designed with the sole intention of keeping the poor down, and making the rich richer. Just a few days after his sixteenth birthday, his father had been arrested and imprisoned after selling drugs to an undercover police officer. From that point on, he took to the streets. He sure as hell wasn't going to allow public servants to cart him off to some sort of foster home, never would he allow it to happen. It wasn't as though he hadn't been taking care of himself for years as it was. The transition to street life wasn't difficult, he already had all he required; quick hands, quicker feet, and a bad temper.
Darius lived that way for nearly four years before Namir found him. He'd been in a back alley, surrounded by some rather unscrupulous men. Of course, he should have known better than to steal from those characters... in fact, after he had made that mistake, he should have known better than to try it again. But there he found himself alone in the darkness with four men armed with bats. They wouldn't kill him, no, they would never get their money back if they killed him... but that was no consolation to Darius as they beat him to within an inch of his life. Though in his mind, Darius got the last laugh as he spat blood in one man's face shortly before losing consciousness. When he awoke, he caught glimpses of three large black beasts surrounding him, the smell of blood heavy in the air. He could have sworn he heard someone mutter "This one is still alive." but strangely enough, the voice seemed to come from nowhere, instead resonating from within his own head. Apparently the blood loss had made him delusion, or so he thought before one of the beasts transformed into a woman before his very eyes. She knelt down to him, her mouth still dripping with what he knew was fresh blood. She made him a simple proposal; serve her, and in return she'd give him the power to exact his vengeance on the world.
Over the next decade, he rose through the ranks of Namir's Doomhowl clan, eventually earning the seat of what would be some sort of officer or leiutenant in an otherwise more organized group. Of course, he had earned his fair share of battle-scars to earn the rank - the black furred doomhowls often met in skirmishes with their leader's nemesis, and his pack of Swiftpaws. The rival pack seemed diametrically opposed to the doomhowls... their white fur, their rigid heirarchy, and their doctrine to prevent the unneccessary killing of humans by any means. It was no surprise that when Namir had one day mysteriously vanished, Darius had come to the conclusion that she fell at the hands of the great Swiftpaw himself - Peter Sharpe. Now he aims to do what any able bodied Doomhowl would; exact his vengeance, killing anyone who would stand in the way.
Fears: For the most part, nothing.
Strengths: As many other Doomhowls, he is very strong, even amongst lycankind. He also has the benefit of being able to blend in/hide in urban settings due to his many years spent as a theif, and his dark fur.
Weaknesses: Often rushes into things blindly, with very little forethought.
APPEARANCE
Facial Appearance: See sig/avatar
Build: Nearly 6'1", strong, but not overly muscular.
Marks/Scars: One large scar cutting through his right eyebrow, over the ridge of his nose, and ending on his left cheek. Several scars across both of his arms, all sustained in combat with Swiftpaws.
Birth Name: Darius Bauer
Race: Lycan, born human
Age: 32 years, 12 spent as a lycan.
Gender: Male
Occupation: Previously a pickpocket, currently assuming a leadership role of the Doomhowl clan
Birthplace: Basom, NY
Current Location: Athens, Greece
Family Relations: Mother's whereabouts unknown, Father incarcerated at a federal penitentiory.
Weapon: In his youth he was known to carry a knife, but not since his transformation has he felt the need to carry a weapon
Other Items Owned: Several articles of clothing, some his, some stolen.
BACKGROUND
Personality:
Detailed History:Darius was born and raised just a few miles west of the indian reservation. He has no recollection of his mother, who skipped town shortly after his birth, leaving him in the care of his alcoholic father. Life was rather difficult for him. It's not that his father was abusive, that wasn't the case at all. In fact, Darius doubted that his father was capable of laying a hand on him, considering the fact that when his father wasn't drinking in some dive bar, he was unconscious on the floor of the kitchen. As his father was often unemployed, the two often relied on income from less than legal sources, often stealing, and on occasion, dealing various illicit drugs. Over the years, he'd grown to hate the establishment. In his view, the government, no society itself was designed with the sole intention of keeping the poor down, and making the rich richer. Just a few days after his sixteenth birthday, his father had been arrested and imprisoned after selling drugs to an undercover police officer. From that point on, he took to the streets. He sure as hell wasn't going to allow public servants to cart him off to some sort of foster home, never would he allow it to happen. It wasn't as though he hadn't been taking care of himself for years as it was. The transition to street life wasn't difficult, he already had all he required; quick hands, quicker feet, and a bad temper.
Darius lived that way for nearly four years before Namir found him. He'd been in a back alley, surrounded by some rather unscrupulous men. Of course, he should have known better than to steal from those characters... in fact, after he had made that mistake, he should have known better than to try it again. But there he found himself alone in the darkness with four men armed with bats. They wouldn't kill him, no, they would never get their money back if they killed him... but that was no consolation to Darius as they beat him to within an inch of his life. Though in his mind, Darius got the last laugh as he spat blood in one man's face shortly before losing consciousness. When he awoke, he caught glimpses of three large black beasts surrounding him, the smell of blood heavy in the air. He could have sworn he heard someone mutter "This one is still alive." but strangely enough, the voice seemed to come from nowhere, instead resonating from within his own head. Apparently the blood loss had made him delusion, or so he thought before one of the beasts transformed into a woman before his very eyes. She knelt down to him, her mouth still dripping with what he knew was fresh blood. She made him a simple proposal; serve her, and in return she'd give him the power to exact his vengeance on the world.
Over the next decade, he rose through the ranks of Namir's Doomhowl clan, eventually earning the seat of what would be some sort of officer or leiutenant in an otherwise more organized group. Of course, he had earned his fair share of battle-scars to earn the rank - the black furred doomhowls often met in skirmishes with their leader's nemesis, and his pack of Swiftpaws. The rival pack seemed diametrically opposed to the doomhowls... their white fur, their rigid heirarchy, and their doctrine to prevent the unneccessary killing of humans by any means. It was no surprise that when Namir had one day mysteriously vanished, Darius had come to the conclusion that she fell at the hands of the great Swiftpaw himself - Peter Sharpe. Now he aims to do what any able bodied Doomhowl would; exact his vengeance, killing anyone who would stand in the way.
Fears: For the most part, nothing.
Strengths: As many other Doomhowls, he is very strong, even amongst lycankind. He also has the benefit of being able to blend in/hide in urban settings due to his many years spent as a theif, and his dark fur.
Weaknesses: Often rushes into things blindly, with very little forethought.
APPEARANCE
Facial Appearance: See sig/avatar
Build: Nearly 6'1", strong, but not overly muscular.
Marks/Scars: One large scar cutting through his right eyebrow, over the ridge of his nose, and ending on his left cheek. Several scars across both of his arms, all sustained in combat with Swiftpaws.
