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 Posted: Thu Dec 17, 2009 4:59 pm
Database Entry 89#Name Desik Daeherof Alias Desik Age 89 Marital Status Single Class Ranger Appearance DesikWolven Appearance DesikPersonality Desik is a loner in spite of himself. He wants to belong, to be apart of his community but he feels detached, choosing to work for himself only. It's not hard to disappoint anyone if you are the only person you care about. Brief History Desik doesn't know his past, not for lack of trying though. He just came to NY to search for related members. He keeps catching a scent but he loses it before he can get leads. Weapons A knife strapped in the middle of his waist, and his mechanical inventions. ID Number; 9789
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Posted: Mon Sep 20, 2010 2:50 am
Database Entry 0044# Name Rena Kraganoff Alias Pummel, Kaya Age 21 Marital Status Single ClassFormer Hunter Current status*Pregnant  Appearance Rena is a pale, delicate ginger with warm amber eyes and a slender figure standing at 66,5 inches, her current weight is 78 kg due to her pregnancy, which is starting to show. She has hair down to her shoulders and often wears some sort of necklace around her neck. She carries a white-gold bracelet on her right wrist, a memory of her former lover, the vampire Marcus. She has a tattoo of a rose caught in chains of thorns and steel on her left shoulder. Personality Rena is a warm, caring person, but as a true lycan she shows no mercy when someone stands in her way. She is very motherly and often spends her night cooking food she then passes to the homeless or poor. She has a soft spot for those in need of help and dreams of one day having a family. She is normally a gentle who avoid fights violence but changes in her life and the world around her has forced her to fight for herself and her unborn child. Rena used to believe that peace could be found between the races, and went as far as to fall in love with a vampire- but her dreams of peace were shattered when hunters and other vampires killed her lover and burned him to ashes. Her later forced relationship with an insane pack alpha subjected her to abuse, an abuse she ran away from when she discovered that she was pregnant with his child. She is fragile in many ways, but she is also strong willed and filled with a determination to live on for the sake of herself and her pup. She is rather naive and trust strangers much too easily. When caught in threatening situations, she uses her powerhouse werewolf form as her way out.  ~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨Wolven Appearance Rena´s werewolf form is approximately 90.6 inches tall with a chest width of 47.2 inches. She is a rather massive werewolf with platinum-blond fur and piercing blue eyes. Her coat is exceptionally thick and long manes of hair cascade down her back, reaching her waist with ease. Rena´s claws on both feet and hands are pitch black. She has a rather big ´bosom´ and a narrow waist. Her werewolf form is exceptionally strong and agile in battle. Childhood: Pummel was turned into a werewolf back in her old home country Russia and brought to America at the age of 7 by an old werewolf healer who introduced the young girl to his pack. Rena was then adopted by Andromeda, one of the packs Hunters and learned how to fight and hunt like her new mother. Andromeda was later killed by her own husband in a bout of raging jealousy when she cheated on him with a werewolf from another pack. Rena´s pack alpha was later slaughtered during a hunter raid and his son, Damian, took over the pack after his demise. Damian´s borderline nature, however, soon turned the power hungry wolf into a vicious and cruel leader. He ordered Rena, his former childhood friend, to be his mate- when she refused and he threatened to force her Rena left the pack and started a life on her own. Guild history: Rena met the vampire Marcus about a year after she escaped her old pack, the two met on friendly terms but something else soon developed between them and out of friendship blossomed love. The two lovers fought hunters, former friends and race differences together until - finally- Marcus was killed by a hunter. After Marcus death Rena felt as if life held no real purpose for her anymore. In a desperate attempt to stop the hurt and pain within she sought out her old pack. Damian captured the psychically weak werewolf female and raped her, sure that her pregnancy would; "Calm her down and teach her where she belonges" Rena put up with abuse, psychological terror and daily beatings until she felt the first stir of life within her. Scared for her pup and horrified at the thought that Damian would hurt their child as he did her, she ran away again only to be caught in the middle of chaos, as the humans discovered that lycans were real and started hunting her race down like cattle. Weapons Model 500 SW Magnum Revolver, UV flashlight. ID Number: 06310-B
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Posted: Wed Oct 13, 2010 4:25 pm
Database Entry 0063#Name: Lance Cole Alias: Age: 16 Marital Status: SingleClass: Pup/HealerAppearance: Link Wolven Appearance: Lance has a slightly emaciated build in his wolven form, just like in his human form but his thick fluffy olive-blonde fur hides this fact. At least from afar. He's bout 5 feet and six inches 'tall' and has orange-red eyes, and a bushy tail. Personality: Timid,and generally nervous around all people,including other lycans. He doesn't know a lot about the war and would in all likelihood want to run away from a fight if he ever got into one. He wouldn't willingly abandon a friend, if he had one, if they were in trouble though. Brief History: Turned into a Lycan at the age of 14 he slaughtered his abusive foster parents and family at the first full moon in his blood lust. The following day he woke in his apartment curled up around the limbs of his dismembered family. He tried to kill himself that night by slitting his wrists but the wounds healed to quickly and he gave up after a couple tries. He's been wandering around New York ever since doing odd jobs here and there to stay alive while looking for a place to stay where no one will look for him. He struggles against his blood lust, trying futilely to be a 'vegetarian' and feeling horrible when, he invariably fails time after time. Weapons: A pocket knife, he's not a big fan of weapons. ID Number; 14663
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Posted: Sat Dec 08, 2012 3:09 pm
Database Entry 0025# Name Alexander Litmus test score 56 Alias Jefe, Diego Age 86 Marital Status very single Class Ranger Appearance  Wolven Appearance  Personality He prefers to keep himself chaotic neutral. Not a bad guy, but definitely not a good person. He prefers to walk alone, sleeping with one eye open out of habit. He was raised to be polite and kind, as the year turned he colder to the world. Having spent so much time alone has caused him to develop oddities in his behavior. These odd tendencies is what has caused him to further retract from society as well as the Lycans. Brief History: Alexander was happy for his the most of his childhood being raised in California within a small family of four caring god-fearing people. He was born in the near the end of the first World War and heard war stories up until he turned. The incident happened a month after his ninth birthday when he was nearly mauled to death by some 'beast' that was never found. He received heavy medical attention and rabies vaccinations, but no vaccination could cure his disease. Alexander began noticing differences that he attributed to the side effects of the drugs the hospital had given him. However, an insatiable desire for warm bloody red meat grew as he neared his twelfth birthday. To the day three years later, the now twelve year old Alexander reached the age of puberty, he killed his family and friends during a sleep over in first transformation. When he came too in the morning, he found that he was covered in blood and had a nauseously full stomach of that consisted of the meatier portions of his friends and family. He knew instantly that he was in some sort of monster or werewolf. Around that moment is when his mind finally snapped he no longer held any form of support, and he knew deep down that being the only survivor of a gore massacre was not the route to go in life. So like all small children when in monumental trouble, he fled. Years of fleeing from one side of the country to the other and back, to the point where he swore he was making laps, developed Alexander into a off-kilter, scavenging young lycan of only 42, that was until he met his first love and an utterly forbidden one at that. She was a vampire that stole his heart away metaphorically and eventually literally. In a bitter battle when loyalties thrown in between them, she thought she to murdered him in order to save herself. So she thought. His shock and denial eventually led him into a blind hate that led him to the sheer joy of bloodlust and for many years he lived that way, swimming in the blood of his enemies and innocents alike. Until he found himself bleeding and dying floating down the Manhattan river. Rescuers fished his grisly form out and nursed him back to health. After that he left New York. Gone was he from Manhattan for two decades until he was rudely awakened. He had been sleeping one lonely moonless night when an agent of the lycans stepped into his camp. His ingrained reaction was to attack this intruder. As he was ready to deliver the death his intruder the let out a mournful howl, the sound visibly jarred him back to bitter memories. Stepping off of his abused ally, he received a message that something important was happening back in Manhattan and it was his duty, as it is to all lycans, to defend and continue the existence of lycans and to strike down all enemies. With a begrudging glare the emmissary departed and left Alexander to ponder, what he could possibly be of use for. Weapons: He carries several different sharp cutting instruments on his person, he carries a scalpel, two pocket knives, a blessed Bowie knife hidden in his boots. Within a stolen golf bag he carries, a blessed baseball bat engraved with holy symbols of many varying religion dubbed his Holy Hitter. Next to the bat is a stolen driver from, a bishop who had blessed his golf clubs. Third and final weapon in the golf bag was a wood cutting axe that he had take from home as a child. The handle had been split many times over the years but the edge on the ax blade is as keen as the day he pried it form the dead hands of a hunter looking for his head the year after he had massacred his family. Finally He also carried a little 9mm pistol with anti-vampire rounds inside. ID Number; 4740
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Posted: Wed Jan 09, 2013 11:05 pm
My Lycanthrope
Database Entry 00#
Name Jacqueleen Du Moire
Alias Jacq (or jacqie), Libertine, The Demon of Du Moire.
Age Appearing around 25; the Truth? It's unaccounted for wink
Marital Status Single, wild && free <3
Class Ranger
Appearance Black & white portrait. Eyes are a vibrant lemon yellow plus her ebony hair, giving off hints of crimson in light, portraying her hair as a silky & vibrantly rich indian red color. Skin a clear and smooth view of olive skin with a soft peach bronze tinting, accenting her hair & eyes together. Generally always wearing an either matte or glossy cherry red color for her plump lips.
A voluptous body but not overly bountiful. The curves of her body capturing the true nature of wolf vixen and the sweep of her thick, lower-back length, hair to embody the sway of the wild wolf inside. She prefers leather jackets, tight jeans and tank tops that shown the small of her back & stomach (with her gold belly button ring).
Jacqueleen's usual outfit cosists of a soft, dulled out brown tank top that seems ripped at the bottom of her own creative idea for her wardrobe, and a light and short ivory faux leather jacket to cover her shoulders. Beige, stretch jeans to match the jacket and calf-length, high heel leather boots that compliment her shirt by being a dull & worn in crimson red.
Wolven Appearance
Personality When first meeting her, most notice the faint french accent which has faded greatly with the passing of many years.Jacqueleen is truly a child of nature (Not the hippie, peace-lovers either). She is one for freedom and the wildness. Her eyes reflect the want of adventure and the love of the moon and stars. A true gypsy at heart and somewhat of a lone wolf because of her true sense from her wolf inside. No crave for a chase but to be the chased.
She seems to always have a trick up her sleeve just like Loki of Irish legend. She enjoys pursuits of the mind with a tongue so quick, it's not silver...it's gold. Although Jacq does not believe in deception because of her inner nature to be loyal as a wolf to a pack unless there is a time to use that side of her.
But even for her attractive-wild style, she never holds anyone close. But she has a way of turning on her charm to enchant others with her personality, revealing a free spirit and endless energy. Even an energy that is devilishly sexy. For all that freedom she embodies, the spirit of her inner wolf has released her into a different world that not so many wolves can share with her, eye to eye on. She craves the the relish of the one who could run for the fun, to embrace the adventure ahead as she does.
Always keeping that mischievious grin, corner to corner of her face, it's only when she's not smiling, should you begin to worry at all.
Brief History Brief is what her story is. She was an orphan and never really grew up with the yearn of the family who left her behind, unlike the other children. She was an odd ball of sunshine as a child and didn't pay much mind to great complexities of emotions and get tangled up in the idea of being well-behaved. She enjoyed her true nature and never denied it, even when her honesty seemed to slip her up and the Mistress of the Orphan House decided a worse-than-before punishment for even breathing.
Jacqueleen didn't know much about her mother and didn't care to know. The woman left her behind and she felt her freedom was the only thing she had. That's the very reason why she took her fate into her own hands and at the age of 16 she ran for her life the first she had to get away from that prisoner Orphan House. Paris, France wasn't exactly every person romanticized it to be. For her it was a part of her past and nothing more. She never elborated much on her past and prefers it that way til this day. Although she is quite talkative and the friendly person, her past doesn't haunt her like the rest of the world. Her life has been but a black hole.....and she is the demon that crawled up out of it.
She began to question her life at the moment when she had her first change at the age of 25. From the moment she was born, her mother lost her. That's all she could remember and it was better that way, just a Demon of Du Moire. A mystery is more like it because the ravinous deaths she caused from her first change til the the next decade that passed, had left policemen, detectives and even the CIA at a loss for words. She lost count of the people that she encountered and held close in her grip as she lovingly ravaged their bodies and the others that she devishly terrified.
As the decades passed, the civilians became aware of Jacqueleen's existence and the fact that is was threatening the populace. It all began on a cold winter night....a night that turned the predator into a prey. Karma for the moon-lover of the crimes she commmited. A young man she had swooned from the first moment they met in the bar, she wanted a taste of his blood. But what had quickly turned into a late night walk down the street, twisted into a Chase The Beast game. As her and the lovely Michael had approached the corner of Lemour & Le Flor, he switched gears from soft & cuddly to rough & passionate. But that passionate had enflared her red flag when he went in for a kiss and she pulled away to tease but instead, Michael got a fist full of her gleaming red locks and locked lips quickly. With all Jacqie's been around this seemed different but it definitely was not sincere. With the swing of her left arm and the thrust of her right palm, the man found himself flying across the side walk, to double-over from the brick hard wall his back crashed into. Her stance held as she stared at him with her golden lemon pool orbs staring at him without pity, as her eyes only outlined with black and enflared with orange, she postured herself and prowled toward him slowly. The man kicked against the ground, to pick up from the help of the wall his back was stopping him. Her eyes slowly evolving to his golden glare, accentuated by the right corner of her lips, lifting to form her habitual little grin before she pounced into the given prey. Even as this happened, the fear left Michael's eyes and he mirrored the same smirk right back at her and with that, she paused, to pay attention to her strong peripheal visions & her instincts had been screaming this whole time. Quickly she nodded at this dim-wit and bounced back with the help of a back flip and just as quickly as she gracefully succeeded this gymast move with ease, her skin crawled and she landed on all her fours with a pound and crack against the road. Goose bumps erupting all over her body and her fangs and claws revealed themselves. Only giving him enough of a taste to watch as his terror engulfed his heart. Jacqie's lips curled back in a passionate love for that empty stare he couldn't escape. In that one moment, she leaped with as much force as her half-morphed wolf form would allow, allowing his black-out as satisfaction enough for what he began to though was succeeding. Within the moment of her victory, a sharp silver rip into her ribcage, stopped her from walking away.
Jacqueleen exploded with a howl of anger as the silver bullet, seraded her skin inside and out. Her stomach queased with the taste of silver now surging in her body. Only just realizing how many men with rifles, pistols and axes began to surround her. With her left hand digging & clawing to stop the bullet's pain, she began to chuckle at the man who rolled out loudly, "A woman??! Unbelievable! Get that Demon of Du Moire!" and as they closed-in around her, Jacqie's laugh had not stopped. As she grew silent, the loud-mouth spout off again, "No more to laugh about harlot? Maybe you should bury yourself into another innocent life!" and with that statement, she chuckled once as she slowly pulled the bullet from her ribs and questioned playfully, "Is that an offer?". With shock wiped across his face now, her body erupted with anger as her bones popped and she moaned, "Now experience...the demon....of DU MOIRE!!".....
At the end of that hour, on that horrendous night. Jacqueleen found herself venturing out into world unknown to her. Changing locations like she did clothes, she only wanted to be free with the demon inside her. The beast within had protected her in many cases other than this only one, but with her past comes terror and she only wishes to leave that grave alone. With no regrets, Jacqueleen found her way around the United States, finding dead ends of wolf packs until she stumbled about into New York City.....and this is where the real story begins.
Weapons Golden engraved pistol with silencer, two switch blades in the same right boot she wears, Several sharp chinese battle pins that she has either tucked into her hair to pin it up, as a disguise or safely plucked into the inside, left side of her leather jacket. Her favorite weapond would definitely be her deadly palm/fist combos she has learned, practiced and used throughout her life. Some foot combos but not as massively devastating as the strike of her arm.
ID Number; 1133
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Posted: Sun Feb 17, 2013 8:07 am
Created new lycan profile page, ergo this one was moved.
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