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Creator of Destruction Captain
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 Posted: Sun Jul 06, 2008 12:40 pm
As it's name clearly states, this is a forum for all of our members to post their profiles and introduce us to their character(s). For those of you in search of a skeleton, these will be posted in the forums.
Rules
[1] Please follow the rules of submission for your forum, and if you are accepted, post your newly created profile here.
[2] Characters may be reused, but you must include the information. Also, please follow the instructions for profile creation for each roleplay, even with recycled characters.
[3] If you reuse a character, include both profiles in a single post. For example, if you have a character named Alice and you reuse her three times for multiple roleplays, list them all in one post (unless you run out of room) with the title of the forum they are a member of listed before each profile. Different characters (i.e. Alice and Henry) may be placed in separate posts. All characters will be linked here.
[4] Page stretching will not be tolerated. If your image is excessively large, link it instead of posting it.
[5] This is not a chat thread. Profile posting only.
[6] Quoting is distinctly unnecessary here, for obvious reasons.
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Posted: Sun Jul 06, 2008 12:43 pm
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Creator of Destruction Captain
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Creator of Destruction Captain
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Posted: Sun Jul 06, 2008 1:20 pm
Charming_Sadist Ava Roleplayed by Charming_Sadist Age: 16
Weapons: Teeth and claws
Abilities: The ability to become a full wolf, and something in between a wolf and a woman. Of course, being lycan, the transformations are not at will– Ava goes into her ‘halfway form’ when she her emotions begin to get the best of her. When she is completely overcome and feels an extreme emotion such as anger, she becomes a full wolf.
Bio:
What happens when man tries to play God?
What happens when man tries to create life that is far greater than his own...what happens when he succeeds?
What happens when man loses control of his creation?
The answer is simple: man destroys.
There are some who would lead you to believe that man did not wreak havoc on the lives of wolven people until ‘The Incident,’ as it came to be called. That is a lie. My parents were first generation lycans– two of the first to have their genetic make up fused with that of a beast. They met each other through that experience; in my opinion, it was their shared misery through that horrific experience that kept them together. Who else would understand? Three years after being “reborn” my parents were both deemed safe enough to be released from the lab and into the general public, I was two years old then. Though the scientists who created them thought that my parents were suitable for life outside a high voltage electric fence, the masses disagreed. We could never stay in one place for too long, for it did not take long for people to learn our secret. Our kind had to inform the government whenever they planned on changing locations, and once they got there they had to register, like some sort of criminal. Once the word got out about what we were– and it always did, without fail– chaos would erupt. They feared us, I suppose, though I don’t know why– my parents had so much control over their emotions that it sometimes seemed as if they had none, and I was but a child. After the initial shock of what we were faded and those who were going to flee had fled, the threats would begin. Those living around us would be sure to flaunt their new hunting rifles, we’d find menacing notes and slaughtered wolves on our doorstep, or nailed onto the door, and several times they actually set fire to our house. It was a terrifying life to lead, never staying put in one spot and being afraid to go to sleep at night. I couldn’t understand their hatred of me– as I stated before, my parents were stoic and mild mannered... but that was before I learned exactly what I’m capable of. When I was six, we rented a cabin near the woods– there were no neighboring houses in a seven mile radius, so we thought we were safe. Little did we know that safety is just another of man’s illusions, another lie. I remember the night it happened so clearly– simply thinking of it is enough to make my teeth sharpen into points and my fingernails extend and curve to claws. My parents’ keen senses detected the smoke before the log cabin had actually burst into flames. With me in my fathers arms, they ran from the house, carrying the suitcases that we never bothered to unpack, only to discover that the real danger was not the fire... as always, the real danger was man. Six of them, I think there were, each of them holding some form of fire arm. Before I could fully register what those men were doing there, my ears were assaulted with the sound of a gunshot, and I hit the ground hard, my father landing on top of me. With an animal’s agility, I crawled out from beneath him and pushed myself to my feet. The men were shouting, and my mother was screaming and sobbing. I felt something warm and wet trickle down the side of my face, I touched my fingers to it and examined them... blood.  Not my own, but my fathers. Slowly, I turned to look at him, only to find there was not much left...of his face, anyway. Another shrill scream pierced the night air like dagger– mine. Before the scream had time to fade away, it became another sound, one less human. It become a howl of anguish. As strange as it sounds, I hadn’t even noticed that I had transformed–I had been too blinded with the horror of seeing my loving father dead at the hands of these heartless men– I only felt that something was different. It was the first time I had ever transformed; being only a child, I had never felt anger powerful enough to change me. My transformation only fed the men’s hatred for me; they shouted words of shock, fear and anger that I did not care to understand. My world was crashing down around me, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I looked to my mother, as if hoping she could take me in her arms, gently rock me and, in her angel’s voice, bid me to wake up, because this was only a bad dream. Of course, that was before I learned that hope was also an illusion. The woman I saw was not the same sweet-faced woman who had raised me– her teeth had become fangs, her long canines forcing her human lips to part and her eyes were wild. Her voice was different, too– gruffer, somehow, and raspy like an animal’s growl– but I could still understand her words.
“Ava, run!” And those were the last words ever spoken to me by my mother.
I escaped somehow, don’t ask me how. I bolted into the forest and ran long after the sound of gunshots died. Though I was young, my wolf side was mature enough that I could take care of myself, for the most part, and my feelings of hatred and fear were enough to keep me a wolf almost constantly. For a while, I lived among a small pack of actual wolves, who accepted me–perhaps out of pity– despite of my unnatural scent. That was years ago. Now all of the wolven people are being mercilessly slaughtered or sent to these ‘camps.’ They are only teaching the more naive of my kind the same lesson that I learned so many years ago: the law of the land is to kill or be killed. No one is to be trusted. There is no forgiveness and no redemption. We are doomed to die at the hands of our creators.
Unless we fight back.
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Posted: Sun Jul 06, 2008 1:23 pm
Riles Roleplayed by Creator of Destruction Age: 17
Species: Lupus Phasma
Weapons: A small, rough piece of metal that has been fashioned into a small knife with a leather-bound handle
Abilities:
Commanding Jadis
Miscellaneous manipulations of the wind that makes up Jadis’ incomplete form, most of which are defensive. [Includes creating a cushion of air that can prevent some minor injuries, warping the air to allow him to see over distances, catching voices on the wind to listen into conversations, etc.]
Linking, an ability that allows Riles to see through Jadis’ eyes
Bio:
My past literally began with my parents. My mom was first generation; no one in our family knows why she was chosen or what exactly happened during the experiments, and she doesn’t like to talk about it so it’s usually an avoided topic in the house. Dad’s always been fairly wealthy, making our living by running his own business. I think that made it easier on mom when she came back, because she didn’t have to worry about the financial side of readjusting to life. She’d also been married to dad for a year or so before she was taken, and dad loved her too much to let something the government did stop them from being together. That’s the way my parents tell it, anyway.
I was born a few years later as a generally healthy child, except for one thing: I had terrible asthma. I was the only child born to my parents, and frequent attacks and loss of breath kept them protective and sheltering toward me for the first ten years of my life. It didn’t help when, around the age of seven, I came down with an illness that left me blind. I think if anything else had happened to me, my parents might have lost it. For a while, they had their hands pretty full taking care of me and making sure I didn’t get into trouble or hurt myself.
The combination of blindness and asthma kept me in generally pampered and sheltered environment. I didn’t have much interaction with other people my age until I was nearly eleven, when I came into my own Spirit Animal.
You’d think I would remember the precise day when my life changed, but the whole thing was so gradual that I don’t think anyone really noticed until Jadis, my Windwolf, and been fully formed. No one in my family had ever been exposed to another second-gen, so the only thing they were familiar with was the abrupt emergence of my mother’s Waterwolf, Selene. The slow, steady arrival of Jadis went mostly unnoticed for a while, even by myself. It was a definite blessing though. We quickly found out that not only could Jadis keep my asthma at bay, he could also link with me to allow me sight. Of course, I was blind again as soon as Jadis was no longer in a physical form, but the fact that I had the ability to see when I needed or wanted to outweighed that minimal downside.
I went through a brief phase after Jadis’ emergence where I liked to test the limits of my abilities by doing....less than legal activities. After getting caught more times than I care to count, I grew out of it, to the great relief of my parents.
And things seemed to be changing in the world outside my home as well. The fear that had pervaded the years after my mother came home had diminished, and although it wasn’t entirely gone it was slowly being replaced by a wary acceptance that came with resignation to the fact that there wasn’t much anyone could do about either generation of experiments. We weren’t going anywhere.
Then the camps came, and everything changed.
One by one, all the first- and second-generation experiments began disappearing. For a while, no one knew where to or why, but when word leaked about the first of the camps it became all too clear. The government had grown to fear its creations, and now they wished they could take it back. Unfortunately for them, that wasn’t possible, so they began the next best thing: isolating the "problem."
From the sound of things, there had been some sort of accident involving a child. But people killed people all the time! Why was it so different when one of the experiments did something wrong? Those were my thoughts at the time. I think by now I realize that the government had always regretted their decision, they just hadn’t had an excuse to do so yet. "The Incident," as it grew to be referred to, just happened to provide that excuse.
Small rebellions broke out everywhere. A lot of people died. I don’t know what happened to my parents after they came. I remember waking up to shouts and the sound of something breaking, and when I got up to find out what was going on I saw the shadow of someone in the doorway. Then there was a sharp pain, and everything went black.
I found out later that they used tranquilizers to put people out until they got to the camps. I guess the government didn’t want the scandal of a massacre on their hands.
Even after all of this, after experiencing first hand how horrible the camps are, I can’t help but think there’s a way out of this. It’s not over yet. Where there’s life, there’s hope, and I’ve always been a bit of an optimist. Some people say I’m naive, but I’d rather be naive than jaded. That’s how most of the people are around here. For now I’m just trying to get through the camps without conflict, and with out drawing unwanted attention from the guards, scientists, or even the other inmates. Jadis and I will get through this. We just have to hold out until it’s finally over.
 Jadis Age: 7
Species: Windwolf
Abilities:
Taking corporeal form
Half form, in which Jadis isn't present as a physical wolf but instead dispels into the natural element to which he is connected. [i.e. Wind]
Linking, an ability that allows Riles to see through Jadis’ eyes
Immunity to physical attacks. Only weapons directly related to earth will cause Jadis harm. [i.e. Wood or natural metals. Metals manufactured by humans, such as steel, will have no effect]
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Creator of Destruction Captain
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Creator of Destruction Captain
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Posted: Sun Jul 06, 2008 1:28 pm
Phengari_Canis_Lupus Professor Kaden Evans Roleplayed by Phengari_Canis_Lupus Age: 42
Species: Human
Status: Scientist
Weapons: He doesn't typically carry them, but when he's around the experiments he carries a number of defensive weapons. These include a tranquilizer, a tazer and a hand gun (in case things get too out of hand.)
Abilities: The ability to fuse human DNA with that of a beast, leading to the creation of wolf and human half breeds that will instill fear in the hearts of humans everywhere, eventually leading to the imprisonment/mass extermination of said sub-humans.
Bio:
I can't remember ever not wanting to be a scientist; it's been my ambition ever since I could distinguish a test tube from a baby bottle. I've always had a special interest--some might call it an obsession-- in the area of genetics. When I was a kid I would stay up late, the covers pulled over my head and a flashlight clamped between my teeth, reading sci-fi novels, the sort involving mad scientists who used their superior intelligence to create super-beasts. True enough, such experimentation always resulted in the final product breaking free of the lab and killing innocent civilians, but that didn't discourage me. I was determined to be like the scientists in those novels, my heroes, without the mistakes. After all, each time a story I was reading suggested that the costs of tinkering with genetics out-weighed the benefits, I would manage to pass of each consequence as a mistake made due to ignorance on the part of the scientist. ‘If he’d only left out this gene,’ or ‘if he’d only realized that this one needed a cage made from a certain kind of metal to contain it, it wouldn’t have escaped.’ Even at that young age, I was confident in my abilities– after all, if I could pick out and correct the mistakes of the scientists in these novels, how could I possibly make any of my own? I started my experimentation early. I would spend hours in my mother’s garden, capturing various types of insects: dragonflies, spiders, praying mantises and any other large ones I could unearth. I would take the poor creatures to my room, where they would undergo a number of horrible procedures. With the aid of staples, a book of matches, and a number of my mother’s knitting supplies, I would remove the wings from a dragonfly and attach them to worm; the long claws of a praying mantis would be confiscated and given to a spider. When I was nine, it occurred to me that insects were not the best test subjects, because they were to small and silent to truly observe... so I recruited a kitten from the litter my neighbor’s cat had just birthed. It had been my intention to remove the one-week-old cat’s two tiny front paws and attach them to the claws of a rather large praying mantis that I had found perched atop a watermelon two days prior. Two hours. Two hours, I spent staring at the mewling ball of fluff that stumbled blindly across my desk, as I fingered the stolen kitchen knife. I remember the exact moment I decided to do it. I remember telling myself to see the thing, not as a kitten, but as a tool of science, a chance to further my understanding of the scientific field and become like the geniuses that inhabited the pages of my beloved novels.
Anything in the name of science, I remember telling myself. With one hand, I pinned the kitten to the wooden surface, and with the other I brought the knife down like an axe. I hadn’t anticipated the screaming. The kitten let out a terrible wail that seemed much to loud to come from a creature that size. There was blood, too– I hadn’t been expecting that, either. It covered my shaking fingers and pooled onto the surface of my desk. Then, a sudden and terrible realization took hold of me: I had caused the creature pain. You’d think that it would be common sense that removing a creature’s limbs would cause it some discomfort, but that was truly the first time it dawned at me. I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t take hearing the creature’s loud screams of pain and accusation. My father had neglected to take his hammer from my room after hanging a shelf for me the previous day; I took that hammer, and with it ended the kitten’s life. Sobbing and sniffling all the while, I stuffed the kitten into a pillow case, along with the hammer and kitchen knife, and dropped it in an irrigation ditch not far from out house. That was the first time in my life that I had to cover up one of my experiments... but it would not be the last.
That experience did not put an end to my experiments with the insects. I told myself that their brains were much too tiny to comprehend pain, and it was reasonable and justified to sacrifice them for science. Of course, that wasn’t real science; it was just a boy playing with creepy crawlies that he found outside, not much different than the activities of any other young boy.
As I grew older, I abandoned the dime-store sci-fi novels and replaced them with actual books written about genetics, authored by actual scientists. There wasn’t much about combining genetics in any of their books, that was still a concept men hadn’t started to explore, but I devoured them anyway. Other boys my age were playing football and chasing girls, but I could always be found sitting in my room reading my precious books in the same manner a religious zealot soaks up the Bible. My father didn’t like to hear about my ambitions. His idea of a good son was a popular jock, someone he could cheer on every Friday night at the high school football games, and brag about to his beer-bellied friends. He could never come to terms with the fact that my slim frame and scrawny arms were not suited for football, and neither was my mind. He wasn’t my only source of criticism; my high school teachers frowned upon my ideals as well. At first, my biology teachers were thrilled to learn of my love and expansive knowledge of the area of science, but when I told them of my career of choice they laughed...until they realized I was serious. They told me that to combine the DNA of man and beast was not only unethical, but a genetic impossibility. On more than one occasion, I was told to lay off the sci-fi movies. But I showed them all in the end, didn’t I?
My intelligence earned me scholarships of high enough sums to send me to the best universities; I never slacked in my studies, and I never gave up on my dream. Those years passed in a blur; the real story worth telling is what happened after college. I teamed up with a crew of scientists with IQs to match mine and ideals that were so similar it was eerie. It was a dream come true. Finally, I had met people who did not scoff at my ideas, men and women who saw my dreams as a possibility, not the result of watching too many horror movies. Each of us seemed to be in it for our own reasons. One man wanted to, for once in his life, outshine his older brother. There was a woman who wanted to prove that women could be capable scientists, and several of them simply wanted the profit. I was there to live my dream. It was a chance to wipe the disapproving grimace from my father’s face and a chance to prove all of my professors wrong. It was all I ever could have asked for.
We spent an entire year in the planning stage. There was almost constant fighting among us, and several times the whole experiment was nearly cancelled because of our bickering. Possibly the easiest decision was which animal we would bind our human subjects to. The wolf seemed to be an obvious choice: it was an animal that differed greatly from humans in size and appearance, but their instincts were similar enough that a being could survive with both planted in their brains. To me, it seemed to be the perfect marriage and I grew more eager with each passing day. Finally, after years of drawing genetic blue prints and building scale models, we were ready to begin.
I will not describe the process of experimentation. I have been asked time and again to do so– even by people who could offer me great sums of money and power– but I refuse. I probably couldn’t, even if I tried; I’ve done my best to repress those gruesome memories. The inhumanity of some of the things we scientists did is enough to pain even me with the slightest twinge of shame.
But the products of our inhumane experiments made it all worth while. I remember the first time an experiment survived the whole process– the pride that consumed me was like a fire that could not be extinguished. My emotions as I stared through the glass barrier at snarling wolf, one that had moments ago been a man, were not unlike those of a man gazing upon his newborn child, I imagine. We had done it. Behind that barrier, my life’s work stared back at me with wild and hateful eyes. We named it for the mythical wolf and human hybrid– the Lycan.
Over the years, we perfected are experiments. Soon, we had managed to create the Loup Garou, a creature that could change forms and will, not just when their emotions overtook them. We considered this creature to be our best work, but then we truly outdid ourselves. We created the Lupus Phasma, a creature that did not actually transform, but summoned a wolf of elemental make up to do their bidding. We were thrilled. We held press conferences, gave speeches and received numerous awards. Our names were on the lips of everyone in the world, our faces on the cover of every newspaper and magazine and our work was envied by scientists everywhere.
Alas, the fame and glory couldn’t last forever. The public feared our creations, and with good reasons– they were capable of ferocity and strength greater than that of any normal man or wolf. The government passed a law forbidding us to experiment further, or create anymore of the already existing breeds– not that that mattered... They proved capable of sexual reproduction. But years passed without incident, and fear of the wolven population began to die out. We scientists were beginning to see hope that we would be able to take up our work once more... But then the child was killed. It caused quite a stir in the public. I had quickly gone to scientific genius to mad scientist. People glared at me where ever I went, complete strangers would walk up to me and spit in my face... But that’s not what worries me about his whole ordeal.
It was the excuse that the government has been waiting for all along; they’ve been laying dormant, like coiled snakes just waiting for a reason to strike. Now my precious creations have been rounded up and put into crowded prison camps, and there have been whispers about mass extermination. Most of my colleagues are more than willing to let our experiments be destroyed: they’re desperate to clean the filth from their reputations, save their careers and avoid lawsuits or imprisonment.
I could care less about those things. I will not stand by while my precious creations are eliminated from this Earth, leaving nothing but the memories of terror behind them. These beasts are my life’s work and I will not seen them thrown away. The creatures need not be destroyed, there are simply some errors that need to be fixed. I can find and correct my mistakes, just as I did with those of the fictional scientists years ago... But I have spent my entire life preparing for their creation, and I will not give up so easily. Frankly, I don’t care that the child died. Sometimes sacrifices must be made so we can better ourselves, so we can perfect the imperfect.
Anything in the name of science.
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Posted: Sun Jul 06, 2008 1:30 pm
Daska Dr. Reynold Roleplayed by DaskaAge: 35
Species: Human
Status: Scientist
Weapons: In case of an attack he carries around a needle filled with Botulinum Toxin. A Toxin produced by bacterium. When injected into the muscle it provents the release of acetycholine and therefore the contraction of the muscle it is injected in. The affects of Botulinum Toxin wear off after a month or so.
Abilities: none
Bio:
At one point in everyone's life I'm sure they have had a Biology teacher who was rather strange, or as you probably would whisper to your friends "Wasn't quite right in the head." This would be the perfect discription of Dr. Reynold though he is a well educated man with a PHD in Biotechnology (science of genetic engineering.), his personality and strange habbits have caused all the people unfortunate enough to meet him to develope a strong disliking of him.
When he was younger and at the age where most children care only of toys and going outside to play. Dr. Reynold would spend countless hours following his parents around asking questions about all the differnet blood types, and questions about genetics that his parents didn't even know the anwsers to. When his parents could no longer provide him with the information that he longed for he would spend hours outside picking the moths off of the side of the house.
Dumping the moths in buckets full of water he would watch their wings flutter around as they tried their hardest to escape from the wet prison that Dr. Reynold had placed them in. When the moths' wings had become so absorbed with water that the moths' started to drown Dr. Reynold would remove them from the water and proceed to cut them open; whether or not they were still alive.
From doing this he learned that moths have orange brains; something that he found quite interesting and would always find the need to share with people at the worst times possible. For example when sitting down for dinner years later with his family and friends that his parents had invited over for the first time, Dr. Reynold would wait for there to be a complete silence to blurt out "Did you know that moths have orange brains?"
____
When Dr. Reynold was in highschool he was the boy that no one liked but no one would be mean to because they all feared that would day he would snap and bring a gun to school and shoot everyone.
The day of the disection of the eyeball all other children in the class were grossed out at the thought of cutting into an eyeball, but not Dr. Reynold. He was delighted at the simple thought of being able to cut something open and pure at the insides of it. As he grabbed the disecting scissors and carefully but quickly cut into the eyeball a smell emergered from its insides that was so foul so gross that it filled Dr. Reynold with a sick feeling and instantly made him want to vomit-he loved it!
After the disection was over he kept the pieces of the eyeball and brought them to cooking class where he proceeded to cut the eyeball up into little pieces and bake them into the muffins that his group and his teacher would eat. Of course they all got sick afterwards but Dr. Reynold had enjoyed very much doing the act, and therefore was without any guilt of the horrible crime he had comitted.
This was not the last of a crime like this for he did the same thing in grade nine with the frog and in grade twelve with the fetal pig. Except with the pig he found it's inside much to fascinating for his class mates to eat and brought them home and put them under his pillow.
__________
By the time he got to University he knew that his dream job and goal in life was to enter a carier in genetic engineering (Biotechnology). With this dream job he would be able to deface nature sin against God-and get paid for it! Dr. Reynold really couldn't understand why anyone would be against such a wonderful science.
After being in University for ten years he graduated with a PHD in Biotechnology and right away began doing rescearch on various different things. One of the main items of his experiments was replacing the chromosomes for a wolf heart with one of a human heart; in an attempt to make animal hearts more human so they could be used for organ transplants.
All his rescreach was for nothing because some other scientist came along and discovered a way to make a single cell of a human grow into a heart or any other organ in the body. Of course Dr. Reynold was depressed his life's or more like a year of hard work was for nothing and at moments he considered throwing himself into the river. However, he never did because he disliked the fact of his body rotting and having fish eat his organs. When he died he was giving his organs to the homeless people!
_______
Evenutally he found a group of scientists who were for some strange reason trying to cross human and wolf DNA. Dr. Reynold wasn't quite sure what he point of this was but it was going against the ways of nature and a sin against God; he was more then happy to lend them his notes of all his work.
He became rather involved with the wolf experiments and eventually became one lesser known scientists who worked on the projects. However, he was never given awknowlegment for his work in creating them; something that at first angered him, but after the incident with the death of the girl he became rather thankful of being thoughtlessly left out.
He moved to the camp to keep a consent eye on the experiments, and to be close to anything knew that occured. This time if anything happened he wanted to know right away; he didn't really care if they were destoryed or not, he just couldn't stand having to find out about it from a paper.
Appearance: He is a tall man skinny man with a long pointed nose and stringy strands of blond hair that almost appear glued to his head. He has blue eyes that are consently staring off into space and randomly focusing on people or objects. Although his hair does not appear well kept Dr. Reynold cares greatly about keeping his body clean. When he is working he is always wearing a white labcoat; when he is not working he is usually dressed in a gray suit. Ever since he graduated University he has developed horrible sleeping happens and therefore has dark shadows under his eyes that won't be going away anytime soon.
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Creator of Destruction Captain
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Creator of Destruction Captain
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Posted: Sun Jul 06, 2008 1:31 pm
Th3 Panda Crow Roleplayed by Th3 Panda
Age:19
Species:Loup Garou
Weapons:Nothing besides her wits, claws, and fangs
Abilities:She was equipped with only basic attacks, save for one test that went "horribly" wrong. Somehow, a foreign liquid given to her had somehow left her with a heightened sense of smell, hearing, and touch. She has little ability other than being able to feel vibrations in the ground or anywhere that will carry vibrations, see for much farther distances that normal, and hear for miles. Her strength is comparable to a few grown human men, but she sees herself as nothing special.
Bio:Crow was originally named Experiment # 136799, and kept as a test being for some time. Though she had little time on the outside, she knew enough of the world from a woman who used to take care of her. That same woman gave her a real name. But those days are long gone. When the ruling was passed to eliminate the wolf race of 'people', Crow was transported in a large crate to the camp where she now stays. She keeps to herself at all times, avoiding people and wolves alike by simply using her simple abilities.
She had been cared for well enough, and treated with some dignity, though her scientist friend had told her that many wolves lived amongst the humans, but she, she was different. The lady, Claire, had never told her why, but she just could live out there in that big world, not yet. Crow had been furious for a few days, but had grown so accustomed to living in the large enclosure, she didn't fight it. With that, Experiment # 136799 became docile. For the time being.
Scared and confused, Ex. # 136799 rode in a large crate to the confinement camp, where she had found her way to hide from everyone in sight. She caused no trouble, started no fights, and avoided all contact. 
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Posted: Sun Jul 06, 2008 1:35 pm
Winter Roleplayed by Storm DaughterAge: 15
Species: Lupus Phasma
Weapons: Whip (not a bull whip, unfortunately. That was taken away), 12 years of kung fu (real, not modern wo shu), any weapon I care to make out of ice.
Abilities: Control over water and Ice. Can change the phase of water (Ice water steam). Cannot actually levitate ice and water, but can move it around and shape it.
Bio: I was sold. I’ve known since I was three and my parents only bowed their heads sadly when the government agents said I needed to begin my training. Oh, I never minded, not really. I’m fairly certain than they loved me, my parents, and I know my younger siblings do, even after all that’s happened. And really, what kind of life would I have had if I had not begun my training then, when I was so small and Rose hadn’t yet been able to fully materialize. I was different, and that was that.
You see, I am among the last of the first generation of Lupus Phasma, and I’m definitely the youngest. They had me before I even left the womb.
Training was never actually all that terrible. I was essentially to be a special agent. I completed the equivalent of a high school education by the age of 12, and I was pretty close to being through with various other training when the s**t hit the fan, or so to speak. I can shoot guns, and I can even make makeshift bombs. Not like Macgyver. I need explosives. I’m fairly adept at hacking too, but again, not like the movies. No one can do that. I have 12 years of martial arts training, and, of course, special training with Rose, who I’ve known forever. I can use all kinds of swords and daggers and knives. No one gives them to me anymore, though, so I’m stuck with make shift ice weapons and my whip. Which isn’t all that bad, really.
Up until I was taken to the stupid camp, I got to go home for holidays and the occasional vacation. I love my younger sisters and brother. They love me. They hate it when I make small ice cubes appear at the nap of their neck so they get a massive chill. Unless it happens to someone else, then they find it as hysterical as I do. My parents like to pretend that everything is normal, and they treated me like I was just away at boarding school. I still write to them, but I doubt my letters get through. I’m sure they write to me, and I don’t get letters either. I never got to keep any presents, no use for dolls in the military, except one, and it’s my beautiful locket with a picture of my family in it. Oh, except now that I’m in  the camp I do have some of the clothing.
So, really, my life wasn’t so bad. I was never lonely. Who could be lonely with a friend like Rose? Although I am young, no one really takes me for a kid anymore, and I never really miss it. I haven’t acted my age since I still wore diapers. I don’t really know what it’s like to be a kid, and I’ll probably never know. I don’t think I want to. They’re kind of stupid.
Contrary to what my fellow inmates think, not all government officials want us dead. I mean, what general wouldn’t want a super adept fighting machine? I may not be as strong as the other species, but I’m definitely stronger than your average human. I was trained to be, essentially, a super seal from the age of 3. And yeah, I know kung fu, but no, I cannot fly or flip three times and then kick four people in the head. I didn’t fall out of a bad Chinese movie and I’m not Chuck Norris. I can probably kick your a** though. And I know my trainers, who are kind of like jackass uncles, and my tutors, who are like a freaky cross between teachers and babysitters, all know that I’m not going to randomly kill people. Unless I’m ordered to or they try to kill me first, that is. And I think they like me. Ah, maybe.
I was trained up until the day my program was canceled. And like a cold war nuke, I was stuffed into moth balls with the hope that my existence would be forgotten.
Thank god nukes aren’t like me. White hair, blue eyes Rose Weaknesses: Electricity, sunlight
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Creator of Destruction Captain
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Creator of Destruction Captain
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Posted: Sun Jul 06, 2008 2:20 pm
Phengari_Canis_Lupus AidenRoleplayed by Phengari_Canis_Lupus
Age: 17
Species: Lupus Phasma
Weapons: Mirage and a rough wooden stake made from one of the bowls used in the camp.
Abilities: The manipulation of the fire that makes up Mirage.
Bio: Even now, people say I'm cocky as hell. I'm not sure that's true; I'm just sure of myself, is all. It's not like I think I can do anything, but when I really want to do something, I’m going to do it. There’s no question about it, I know I’ll find a way. I guess I owe that to Mirage; before he came around, I wasn’t so confident. I mean, I didn’t have a complex or anything, I just didn’t have all this will power. I think it’s because I know, with him around, I always have someone on my side.
Mirage first came into being when I was about ten. It was a gradual process, and a weird one. Every once in a while this flame would just spark into existence, and no one would know why. It really freaked my friends and I out. Finally, my dad– who was the experiment in the family– decided it was time to sit me down and explain what was going on. You would think that I’d be thrilled by the news that I was gaining a wolf companion made up of fire, but I was horrified. I thought my friends would think I was some sort of monster. I knew I couldn’t keep the secret forever, but I sure tried. My friends were beginning to think I was some sort of pyromaniac, because, like I said, whenever I was around these weird fires would start. I didn’t do it on purpose; I hadn’t learned how to control Mirage yet, and he hadn’t learned how to control himself. By the age of eleven, I had almost mastered the technique of keeping the fire wolf out of trouble. More than that, Mirage and I had formed a relationship. I finally understood that he was a blessing, not a curse, and that I’d never be alone again as long as he was around. So I decided to reveal the truth to my friends. Remembering the day I told them still makes me laugh. I told them I had a confession to make, and then I summoned Mirage. Of course, the show off couldn’t just appear, no, he had to make a big production out of it. When I called his name, this huge fire rose up from the ground and flickered there for a moment, as hot as the fires from hell itself, and then when it finally shrunk a little and took the shape of a wolf, he bowed. I stared at the shocked faces of my friends and waited for what I knew would come. I just knew they were going to scream and say what a freak I was and they didn’t want me hanging around anymore.
“Well?” I said, when they still failed to pass their judgement. My pal, Jack, was the first one to speak.
“That is some cool s**t.” He said.
And that was the true beginning of my new life. These days, I only hear about how wolvens and humans can’t live together in piece. But they can, I know. My friends not only accepted me, they loved me and they were almost as fond of Mirage as I was. I even had a girlfriend, her name was Alia. She was just a normal human, but her eyes never strayed to someone of her own race; she loved me and I loved her. She had this little sister named Sarah, I was crazy about that kid. Sometimes I’d look after her for Alia and her mom. They always said that they trusted me over any other baby sitter because Mirage could look after the kid, and if there was a freak fire– even one I wasn’t responsible for– I could stop it in its tracks. I had an amazing life, but that life is gone now. It was torn away from me by a Lycan and the fear that it caused to infect the public.
Earlier I mentioned Alia’s kid sister, Sarah. She was the little girl killed. She was mangled by that beast! I cried for her. Sometimes, I still cry for her, but I also cry for Alia and her mom. Sometimes I even cry for myself. I was a victim, just like they were. I loved that kid, and the Lycan took her away from me. And when it took her life, it took mine. Alia wouldn’t look at me. She blamed me for what that monster had done. And when the law was passed to put all wolven in a prison camp, it was Alia who called and turned me in.
People say that wolven and humans can’t live together. But they can, I’ve seen it. It’s simply a matter of taking the right wolven and the right humans out of the picture. And like I said earlier, when I put my mind to doing something... I do it. Mirage
Weaknesses: Water, anything fireproof [i.e. certain metals], or anything that puts out fire [i.e. fire extinguishers]
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Posted: Sun Jul 06, 2008 2:21 pm
Phengari_Canis_Lupus JerichoRoleplayed by Phengari_Canis_Lupus
Age: 17
Species: Lupus Phasma
Weapons: Phengari
Abilities: Command over Phengari, who has shadow powers and the power of allusion. Phengari can combine with Solaris and create an eclipse, which blinds anyone who looks at it.
Bio: I'm not exactly what you'd call "brave." Or strong. Or heroic. Animalistic instincts? They must skip a generation, because I've got none and if Phengari has any, he must not have very many because he hasn't shared them with me. Oh, Phengari's my wolf, he's made out of moonlight. Growing up, he was pretty much my only companion. I'm not really the type who wins a lot of friends. Well, that's not completely accurate; I have a sister as well, and she's great, if a little eccentric. Her friends used to tolerate me and let me go to pictures with them and stuff (when my sis was around, that is. The moment she disappeared they'd shove me into a trash can.) My sister, Aura, is my same age. We were born on the same day, (though she adventurously came out an hour before I did. I think I was probably clinging to the safety of my mother's womb). That makes us twins, but we are by no means identical. In fact, we're as different as... well, day and night. Aura has always been the out going and adventurous one, and I was always the one clinging to mother's skirt. When we were little, she would kick of her shoes and climb to the top of trees, no matter how old and rotting they looked. Then, she'd perch on a branch, swing her bare feet and beckon to me, but I would never follow. When she gave up on that, she'd yell "Dare me to jump?" And I'd say "No!" So she'd say "Then do you double dog dare me?" "No!" "Okay!" And then she'd leap. She broke her arm like that, once. I must be remembering incorrectly, because she was only nine, but I don't remember her shedding a tear. In fact, my memory claims that she was laughing her head off.
Things didn't change when Phengari and Solaris appeared. Aura was thrilled, and took every opportunity she had to test the strengths of her sun wolf; she used to awe those neighbors that accepted us with light shows and tricks. She even challenged old Miss Rooger's cranky bull dog, once. That dog had chased us since we could walk, but with the help of Solaris, Aura finally put it in its place. They were both natural born fighters. Luckily for me, Phengari seemed to share the characteristics of his element; soft, quiet, discreet. He was no more interested in fighting than I was. Instead, we simply became companions. Finally, I had someone to walk with me in the darkness that I so loved, and someone who seemed to enjoy my presence and wouldn't try to get me to do daring stunts.
That peaceful life was disrupted when the little girl was killed. Aura and I evaded capture, and probably could have successfully gone into hiding. But Aura never was one to sit back and watch an injustice. Even before she had Solaris as back up, she would raise her fists to even the biggest of school bullies to defend the poor souls they preyed upon-- often me. Aura said that it wasn't right that everyone should pay for the crime of one wolven, just like it would be wrong to put every human in jail when one of them killed somebody. I agreed, but I didn't think it was our job to stop the injustice. Aura did. Well, it was either go along with her or leave my sister forever, never knowing what had happened to her. I chose the second option. What else could I do? There were wolven being killed or dragged off to prison camps! I tried to get Aura to come with me, but she just wouldn't listen! She said I was a selfish coward and that I didn't deserve the blessing of Phengari's companionship if I wasn't going to help those like me. Solaris was angry, too; she pinned Phengari beneath her and growled in his face, but he wouldn't even look at her. So we went our separate ways.
About a month later, I was sitting in a park eating beans from a can, when Phengari let out this terrible howl, as if someone had shoved a knife through his chest. I knew almost right away what it meant-- Phengari's bond with Solaris was almost as strong as his bond with me. Something had happened to the sun wolf, which meant something had happened to my sister. We set off immediately to find out what had happened to our beloved sisters. It didn't take us long. We weren't the only wolven on the run, and everyone had heard stories. My sister had made a plan and built an army of those who had managed to avoid being captured. They meant to liberate the camps. The army, or pack, loved my sister and her graceful, kind way of leading. They called her their angel, their savior. Their camp was swarmed, and all of them killed on the spot, except for their courageous leader, who the government wanted to question. I knew what that meant. Torture. You can't imagine the guilt that plagued me! The stories claimed that Aura had put up a brilliant fight, and I knew that, had I been there, nearly everyone could have escaped. Though Phengari is nearly as cowardly as I am, he can combine with his braver sister and form an eclipse, which would have blinded the murderous soldiers and allowed my sister and her army a chance to escape. Traveling by night, Phengari and I set out to find them.
Newspapers claimed that the one to blame for the whole catastrophe-- that is to say, the existence of the wolven-- was a man called Kaden Evans. When I found him, he was staying at a hotel not far from one of the camps. I left him a note requesting a secret meeting. It was risky, and I didn't actually believe that he would come alone, but I had to do something. I had to try. That night, I hid in the woods and waited. Before the time indicated in the note I'd left, the scientist stumbled into the woods. Phengari confirmed that he had come alone, so I came out of hiding and began to negotiate. Kaden told me that my sister had been badly beaten when captured, and had no memory, a fact that had been confirmed by numerous tests. Despite Kaden's pleas, the government meant to kill Aura for the crimes that she couldn't remember.
"But you see," He said, when the tears of defeat began to roll down my cheeks. "You're not the first person I've negotiated with. I have altered your sister's memory even further, so she does not even remember the questioning or tests she's undergone. There was no way the government would let her live if she knew they feared her for some reason. And then, after getting your little note, I told them I could guarantee the capture of Aura's evasive sibling if they'd promise to let her live." What Kaden meant registered in Phengari's mind before it did in mine, and he jumped forward with a snarl, to warn Kaden against what he was planning to do. But it was too late. Phengari's wispy silver body did nothing to stop the tazer Kaden had suddenly pulled from his pocket, and we were both stunned long enough for Kaden to tranquilize me.
They meant to erase my memory as well, but for some reason it didn't work. When I woke up in the camp, I remembered everything. I remembered freedom, something that had been snatched away from me. However, I was reunited with my sister and, just as Kaden had said, she remembered nothing. I may have lost my freedom, but I had Aura back, and she couldn't remember my cowardice, so we soon became inseparable. But even without her memory, she still had her determination. She still believes that it is her responsibility to stop the injustice in the camps. Letting her build another army or recall her old life would mean the death of both of us. In order to survive, I must lie to my sister and prevent her from giving the wolven the thing we all want so badly.
Freedom.
PhengariWeakness: Light
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Creator of Destruction Captain
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Creator of Destruction Captain
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Posted: Sun Jul 06, 2008 2:21 pm
Phengari_Canis_Lupus Gryphon KyadaRoleplayed by Phengari_Canis_Lupus Age: 40
Species: Loup Garou
Weapons: Teeth, claws, wit.
Abilities: She can turn into a wolf.
Bio:
Before I tell you my story, there's one thing you should know: I'm not crazy. Just keep that in mind and accept it as truth. It's okay, you can trust me; I'm was a scientist once.
I was always an outcast in society. Not because I had to be, but because I wanted to be. I could have married and raised a family, or become a business woman. I could have written a book. But the mundane was never for me, I wanted a different life. An interesting one. As it turns out, people aren't that interesting. So, I cut them out of my life as much as possible. Mine was the house that everyone feared, the one surrounded by an ominous black gate. Children would test their bravery by crawling under my fence and seeing how close they could get to my door before fear got the best of them. Sometimes, my dog and I would sit next to the door and listen. Very seldom did a kid actually make it onto my porch; usually the jeering of their friends got the best of them. "She's going to get you!" They'd call. "She'll take you to her lab and cut your guts up!" At the time, I thought the idea was absurd.
If you know who and what I am, you'll know that I worked with Kaden Evans. Kaden Evans: A genius. A mad man. A scientist. A liar and a traitor. Of course, when I first heard oh him I only knew that he was a scientist, and a picky one at that. He didn't hire just anyone onto his team, he wanted a very special group of people to help make his dream a reality. I must of met his high standards, because I was quickly hired. He and I clicked right away. Not in a romantic or friendly way, neither of us were that kind. But in the way that scientists click when united with someone who has a common goal, idea or fascination. In our case, it was a love for the abnormal. I listened to his ideas and threw out some of my own, and I think he might have listened. I can't be sure though. No one ever could be sure about Kaden Evans.
A lot of people were surprised to find that Evans had women working on his project. Some thought them too ignorant, and others too weak and squeamish. I'm proud to say that I was neither; I was always the one to verbally spar with Evans over an idea, or tie a fighting wolf's muzzle shut, or even cut into the beating hear of one of our human subjects. I'm not saying that made me unlike the others on the team; man and woman alike, all of us were dedicated and determined to prove ourselves no matter what the costs. We really were a great team. Of course, you know that, you saw what we created. Whether you think the wolven are good or bad, you can't deny that they are great. Kaden Evans, he was great, too. There was something off about him, though. In that profession, everyone has to wave good-bye to a lot of their morals, but he seemed to have gone a step further than the rest of us... or several steps further. And as I worked for him, I could feel my own sense of morality being warped; I think we all did. A lot of people criticize us for not stopping once we realized he was mad, but you don't understand. You can't just stop, not when you've gone that far, not when you've crossed the line. And we did, we definitely crossed it. It was like wildfire. It all started with a spark of interest that was fueled by possibility until it became an all consuming fire. I remember telling myself that "I won't go any farther than this. If he does this, if he asks me to do that, I'll leave." I think everyone said that. But none of us ever could leave. We were slaves to our own scientific curiosity, our own desire.
I don't think anyone on the team would consider their colleagues to be "friends." But we did know each other; we were together for days at a time, we kept each other awake, we shared ideas, failures and triumphs. It wasn't often that we talked about something that wasn't work, but if we had a few minutes before getting started, we would always fill the silence. Once, I told them about the kids who made dares with each other in front of my house. Simmons-- who would later kill himself in Evans' yard-- told me that I should scare them off by telling them that my beloved german shepherd was one of our experiments and a killer. He said that I should tie it up out front, and no one would bother me again. But Evans said he had a better idea. He told me I should grab one of the little guttersnipes and bring him into the lab, just for a scare, and then he'd go back and tell the others. I was tired of the runts coming into my place, and I figured that Evans idea would work. Luck would have it, that a few nights later one of them wandered up to my place alone. I opened the door, grabbed the ten year old by the wrist and locked him in the spare room for the night and, the next day, I took him to work. Everyone played along. They rubbed their hands together dramatically and spoke of the terrible things we were going to do to the kid. Only Evans was stoic. "Bring him back here, Kyada." He told me, and walked into one of the experimentation rooms. I did as I was told and brought the struggling boy into the room. "Help me restrain him." I hadn't meant for the joke to go that far, but I went along with it anyway. It was difficult because the kid was hysteric, but we managed to get him strapped down tight to the table. "Now leave the room." I looked at Evans in disbelief. "Sir," I began, but he gave him the cold look of his that said he was serious and would not be disturbed. So I walked away. I never actually saw that kid again, but I knew what happened. We all knew what happened, and there was no way to pretend that we didn't. Kaden Evans never believed in giving the experiments unnecessary drugs.
Evans always told us that, in order to be successful, we had to be willing to make sacrifices. He told us never to answer questions that weren't asked, and that nothing was wrong if we had a good reason for doing it, and that right and wrong was a matter of opinion anyway. We learned well, or we must have, because none of us left or even questioned him after the incident with the kid. Shortly after that, the first successful Loup Garou was created. I was obsessed with the creature; at any given time, it could choose to abandon its human life at anytime and become a wolf. A beautiful, powerful wolf. I'd decided long ago that I had no use for people...but I had always been a fan of dogs.
I become obsessed with the Loup Garou. I dreamed about them, only in my dreams, I was them. How grand it would be to abandon the human world and live the rest of my life as a wolf. There was power behind a wolf's majesty, and I knew that, if I could be one, no one would ever bother me again. I think that might have been my goal all along, the reason I clicked with Evans. He wanted to create something  extraordinary, and I wanted to be something extraordinary. Again, I'm not crazy. Or, if I am, I wasn't then. Who doesn't want to escape the life they lead now to be something else? Something greater?
I thought Evans would be opposed to the idea, but he was all over it. That hungry and obsessed light in his eye was there the moment I asked him. The others weren't so willing. They didn't think they could go through with it if it was someone they knew, but Evans had a way of persuading. I won't talk about the procedure, I never do. I blacked out from pain fairly early on, anyway.
I was given no special treatment. I was kept in the same recovery room as the others, and taken through the same cold physical therapy routines. But I didn't care. The time that I would cut ties with the human world was drawing steadily nearer. I remember the day that Edwards told me I was well enough to go into the world. I had never felt so much joy in my life, I was ready to run out of the building on all fours and be free forever... but Kaden Evans stopped me in my tracks. "One more thing." He said slyly. I should have ran. Maybe I would have escaped. At least I would have tried. He led me into one of the back rooms and hit me over the head with a glass bottle. When I woke up, I was in a cage. He said that he was sorry, but he just couldn't let me go. It would be so much more interesting watching the behavior of an experiment that he had known as a human. I became Kaden's own personal guinea pig. The experiments he preformed on me should not be described in words, and I've been altered in many ways that I'm too ashamed to mention. When they came for the experiments after the girl was killed, I was still in a cage in Kaden's lab. Ironically, the prison camp is the most freedom that I've known as a Loup Garou.
Kaden Evans lied to me, he betrayed me and he tortured me. I helped him make his dream a reality, but because of him I was denied my own... for the time being. But I will escape this camp, and I will live the rest of my life as a wolf, just like I always wanted to.
My first wolfish act will be to spill the blood of Kaden Evans.
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Posted: Sun Jul 06, 2008 2:25 pm
Charming_Sadist AaronRoleplayed by Charming Sadist Age: 6
Species: Loup Garou
Weapons: None
Abilities: Shifting into a wolf
Bio: I was raised by my mum, only. I never actually knew my dad very well. The only memory I have of him is when he came over to my house to get something, I can't remember what. I tugged at his pant leg and asked him if he wanted to play with the new ball I'd gotten for my birthday just the day before, but he only shook me off and said he didn't like playing fetch with mongrels. I don't know what a mongrel is, but my mum thought it was impolite, so she yelled at him like she did me sometimes when I burped at the table, only louder and meaner. That made him mad to, I guess, because he started yelling at her. He said mummy was a liar who hid from him what she really was, and that it was wrong of her because he'd wanted a son, not a monster. What is a monster?
My mum and I can turn into wolves. It's pretty neat. We used to play like that sometimes, as wolves. We'd wrestle around and bite each other so gentle that it didn't even hurt. She'd laugh and say she was sorry that she hid that part of her for so long, and she was glad that I came around and showed her how fun it could b be. We had a fun life, my mum and me, and I always thought that it would be like that forever.
It wasn't like that forever, though. Something weird happened one night. My mum was teaching me how to play checkers, but she seemed really jumpy. Nervous, kind of. Suddenly, someone started knocking so loudly on the door that the whole wall seemed to shake! My mum was really scared then. She whispered "I knew it." And told me to go in her room right away and hide. I ran down the hall where her room was, but I didn't do exactly as I was told. I stayed to see what was going to happen. These big men came in the house, and they were really scary looking. The moment my mum saw them, she screamed-- which was unlike her because she always said manners are so important-- and turned into a wolf. I had never seen my mum's wolf like that! Her hair was standing up and she was growling and biting. I think that scared me most. So I ran to her room and hid under the bed. They fought for a long time; I heard a lot of shouting and barking. Finally, there was this really loud bang that made me scream-- I thought it was thunder, and I'm very afraid of thunder. It's weird though, because it wasn't raining. After the thunder, I didn't hear my mum anymore, I just heard the men running in the house. They found me under the bed and gave me a shot that made me very tired.
I guess I did something wrong. They took me away from my mum and my home, and put me in this place that some people are saying is a prison. I'm not sure what I did to get put in here. Mum never seemed that mad when I burped at the table, and I usually wiped my feet before coming in from playing outside. I broke a vase once, but mum said it was ugly anyway. Whatever I did, I really am sorry. I just want to go home.
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Creator of Destruction Captain
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Creator of Destruction Captain
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Posted: Sun Jul 06, 2008 2:26 pm
Charming_Sadist AuraRoleplayed by Charming Sadist
 Age: 17
Species: Lupus Phasma
Weapons: Solaris and a pocket full of rocks.
Abilities: Command over Solaris.
Bio: I know that my name is Aura.
I know that my companion's name is Solaris.
I know that both of us are the product of an experiment.
That's all I know.
A few months ago, I woke up on a hard bunk that reeked of unbathed bodies. I was revolted and horrified, not only because of the smell, but because I didn't know why I was there in that dank and dark place. Not only that, but I didn't know my own name! I shot straight up and hugged my knees to my chest, which was rising and falling quickly with each frightened breath I took. I was a child, robbed from the womb and thrust into an eternal darkness. A darkness with no end and no hope, nothing but that smell like so many rotting but living bodies. I probably would have blacked out again from terror, but, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a bright light. For a moment, fear was usurped by curiosity and I turned to face the strange light. Before my eyes, the light shifted into the shape of a wolf. For being made of light, the animal had such expressive eyes... they were bold and comforting I didn't exactly remember her, and I didn't know her name, but I wasn't scared of her. Being scared of Solaris would have been like being scared of my own hand, because I somehow knew that she was part of me. I could recognize her like anyone could recognize their own soul if it suddenly popped out of their body to say hello. She knew me, too. Almost as soon as she had formed, the bright wolf stepped towards me until we were right beside each other; the light that radiated from her body surrounded me like a mother's embrace and chased away the darkness. As confused and lost as I was, for a moment I felt at home again and I knew that I'd be safe.
The wolf at my side, I left the shelter of the bunk and ventured out into the grounds of the camp-- though, at that time, I didn't know it was a camp. Almost as soon as we stepped into the sunlight, we were met by Jericho, who I would come to find was my brother. Upon capture, his memory was lost to him just as mine was lost to me, but he managed to recall more than I could. He reminded me of my name, and the name of my wolf companion, Solaris. He also reminded me that he and I are a species called Lupus Phasma. Then he informed me that our lives and memories were lost to us because the humans have ordered every Lupus Phasma, Loup Garou and Lycan to be locked in this camp for a crime that only one of us committed.
Let me tell you about the prison camp, or you can call it hell if you like. There's little difference. My fellow "experiments" and I are forced to lived in conditions not suitable for a barn animal. Everyday, more of our numbers die from starvation because the half-cup of slop their issued each day isn't enough to sustain them. The innocent are brutalized by cold, heartless guards. I was brutalized before I even got here; not only did I have head trauma severe enough to cost me my memory, but on my body I found cuts and bruises, some of which have yet to heal. Solaris must have been injured too, because as I grew stronger her light grew brighter. But worse than the physical crimes being committed against these poor creatures and myself are the mental ones. They weren't meant to live in a cage and they could never be happy here even if the conditions were halfway decent. I see my cage mates driven mad, sometimes they fight each other and some have grown so bitter that they'd kill their best friend for getting too close. I know that this isn't their true nature, it's this hell that's driven them to this. They're victims, not beasts. They need help. What these creatures need is a hero. By that, I mean a leader, someone to help them get out of here before more of them die. I told that to Jericho the other day, and he just laughed and said that we don't need a hero, we need a miracle. Maybe he's right, but that doesn't mean it's impossible. I know that there has to be a light out of this dark tunnel, and if I have to be, I'll be the one to lead everyone to it.Solaris
Species: Sunlight wolf
Strong against: Water
Clashes with: Moonlight
Weaknesses: Darkness
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Posted: Sun Jul 06, 2008 2:28 pm
Lucas
Roleplayed by Creator of Destruction 
Age: 13
Species: Lycan
Weapons: Teeth and claws. Or whatever he can get his hands on.
Abilities: "Half-form"
Bio: My, my, where to begin? I'll start by telling you a story. There once was a little boy with a very big secret: he just loved to kill. He bathed in carnage and mayhem, basked in destruction and death, craved the tastes of flesh and blood. Nothing could please him more than the thrill of the hunt or the warm spray of blood from a fresh kill or the coppery taste of it on his tongue. He never felt more alive than he did when he led someone else to death. Such a beautiful union; the blood always pumped louder, his heart always beat stronger when he was draining the life of another. Mindless, fragile things. Such fleeting and meaningless lives the humans led. This kind little boy freed them from their pitiful husks. He let them have death, knowing it was a gift they could never return. Wasn't he sweet?
But his charity went unrewarded. Unable to understand the immense and wonderful gift the boy had dealt his victims, the humans decided to punish him. They sent big men, and these men carried dangerous weapons to hide their weakness. They cornered the little boy and filled his veins with tranquilizers; they dulled his senses so that he was only half-alive like them. Then they bound him and took him to a place that was crowded and noisy and unfit for such a prince of the animal kingdom.
The boy was outraged.
So he vowed revenge.
"Be a good little boy." The law of the camp. What a joke.
The guards didn't take long to learn that I didn't like playing by their rules. The first time I caused trouble, they thought they could taser me into submission. They counted on their numbers, but they forgot about my speed and my teeth and claws. Oh, and my determination to see them all dead at my feet. I had already killed two and removed most of the fingers from a third guard by the time they brought me down. I spent three days in isolation for that little transgression, and when I came out, I was angrier than ever.
Another guard fell when he came to release me. That time, they left me for a week.
After that, they were smart. They learned to use tranquilizer darts and dump me in the camp while I was unconscious, and none came near me without flashing a fully loaded gun first. I was angry, not stupid; I knew what those pistols could do. We reached an understanding: I wouldn't come after them, and they wouldn't come after me. It was a nice arrangement, one that kept meat in a constant and readily available supply. What did the guards care if I took a few extra Wolven off of their hands now and then? Population control.
I got my first taste of blood when I was five. Some sad, foolish child thought it would be wise to pick on someone younger and more vulnerable than himself. Silly humans; they really should learn not to judge by appearances. Until then, I had only killed pets, strays, some wild birds and rodents in the area. But when I snapped and the first taste of sweet blood hit my lips, I knew I could never go back to animals again. Self-defense quickly gave way to delight and pleasure. To think, a bite to the throat was all it took! One little nibble and they fell.
Too easy.
Delicious.
In fact, it was so easy that it scared me. If I could kill the boy so swiftly, couldn't I be caught in no time, too? But after a month, I grew restless. I needed blood, desired it more strongly than I'd ever wanted anything. I craved the indescribable feeling of power that overwhelmed me when I transformed and proved to the humans that we were the superior species.
Kids began to go missing.
Innocence. That was something best left to fairy tales and the soft of mind and heart. What a joy it was to ruin that purity, to soil it, taint it, poison it with the sharp tang of death, the metallic ring of a scream lingering in the air, the sudden silence when life left the body forever, and the strong fed on the flesh of the weak.
 I have my parents to thank for my enlightenment. They were also Lycans, but instead of embracing their animalism as a weapon against the humans, they turned it on each other. I was their favorite outlet. I still have the scars; ghostly remains of cigarette burns and claw marks and beer bottles thrown from across the room. I almost died once. My mother had had a little too much to drink, forgot her strength, and shoved me down twenty-three stairs. There's a scar on my forehead from when I landed, and my head had an unfortunate collision with a nail that had come loose from the floorboards. It was glorious. Seeing my own blood made me aware of mortality. I learned that death was merely a challenge, and if we could only avoid its grasp long enough, we could bend it to our will. We could be gods.
I learned well from my dear parents. They taught me that only the fittest were worthy of survival. Weaklings who couldn't make the cut died, painfully and without mercy. In our house, I was the weakling. To protect my survival, my worthiness as a Lycan, I killed them. I took a knife into their room, and stabbed them while they slept. Their blood was the sweetest yet. Dear old mom and dad. They gave me the gift of life. Their lives.
Here in the camp, my fellow inmates are woefully uneducated. They allow man to rule them, utterly unaware that we are their betters, the gods of this earth. Only one species has what it takes to survive, but the Lycans don't like to play nice. They just want solitude. Pitiful creatures.
I know the humans must pay for betraying their gods.
I plan to make sure they do.
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Creator of Destruction Captain
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Creator of Destruction Captain
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Posted: Sun Jul 06, 2008 2:29 pm
Katherine Slade Roleplayed by Creator of Destruction 
Age: 31
Species: Human
Rank: Government agent
Weapons: Two .45 Desert Eagles and a small knife in her left boot
Abilities:
Sharp shooting
Hand to hand
Disarming
Taking control of any and all situations
Bio:
My past isn’t any of your concern. There are few things about me that will be of any importance to you, and when I mention them I suggest you listen and heed what I say.
I am here to get rid of threats. When I say “threat,” I’m not talking about some petty thief with a weapon. I mean the real kind of danger. These creations are real, and my job won’t be finished until every last one is dead.
Secondly, you should know that I always perform my duties, and I will not fail if I have to die to do so. Sacrifices have to be made in every war.
I don’t like to use more words than I have to, so don’t try to engage me in conversation. It’ll only irritate me, and we don’t want that.
Loyalty is the only thing that has ever mattered to me. If you can’t show that simple philosophy, you can’t be trusted.
If I have to kill, I’ll do it. I’m not bothered by blood or the morality of preserving life. Such things conflict with common sense, and I hold that in higher esteem than foolish sentiment. Emotions should be saved for the weak and the unburdened.
Lastly, I have been sent to eliminate risks to humanity. These “wolven” should not exist, and by the time I’m finished, they won’t.
There's a reason why humans have never tried to played god like this before, and the scientists who created these monsters proved that through sheer idiocy. The worst part is that we all failed to notice until it was too late, and now the government is forced to act as their cleanup crew. They made a mistake when they started this, but we’ll fix it. This is only a small part of cleaning up their mess, but when it’s all over we’ll no longer have to live in fear from anything. Civilians won’t have their throats torn out by these monsters. Government agents won’t be dispatched to monitor these filthy camps, preparing them for the exterminations that must take place. Everything will go back to normal once those damned creatures have been destroyed forever. That’s the only information I’m willing to disclose to you, and though I’m sure you’re dying to hear more about the gossip of my background, there’s something you should know:
It’s classified.
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