Forsaken Impressions: Character & Experience Thread
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Mr Self Destruct on 06-07-2011, 18:44:42</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Forsaken Impressions: Character &amp; Experience Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mr Self Destruct</strong> on <strong>06-07-2011, 18:44:42</strong>
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				Post your characters here after they've been approved.&nbsp; Keep an eye out for experience in this thread, too!<br><br>Please use this format for your character sheet posts:<br><br><div class="codeheader">Code: <a href="javascript:void(0);" onclick="return smfSelectText(this);" class="codeoperation">[Select]</a></div><pre style="margin: 0; padding: 0;"><code class="bbc_code">[b]Name[/b]<br>[b]Tribe[/b]<br>[b]Auspice[/b]<br>Insert Sheet link here<br><br>[u]Appearance[/u]<br>Insert image link here<br><br>[u]Backstory[/u]<br>Insert backstory here</code></pre><br><strong>Character List:</strong><br><br>Jimmy Mac (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=112554.msg4892541#msg4892541) played by Winterborn (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=profile;u=9782). Rahu, Blood Talon<br><br>Haven (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=112554.msg4893191#msg4893191) played by Blitzy (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=profile;u=11785). Elodoth, Hunters in Darkness<br><br>Monica/Monnie/Takes-the-Punch (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=112554.msg4893502#msg4893502) played by Geeklet (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=profile;u=12281). Cahalith, Storm Lords<br><br>Kyle (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=112554.msg4893699#msg4893699) played by Black Howling (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=profile;u=10036). Irakka, Storm Lords
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				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken Impressions: Character &amp; Experience Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Winterborn</strong> on <strong>06-07-2011, 22:02:42</strong>
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				<strong>Name:</strong> James MacAleyne, Jimmy Mac.<br><strong>Deedname:</strong> Numb-Knux.<br><strong>Tribe:</strong> Suthar Anzuth/Blood Talons.<br><strong>Auspice:</strong> Rahu/Full Moon.<br>Character Sheet. (http://tsheetgen.dalines.net/sheet/11720)<br><br><span class="bbc_u">Appearance</span><br>(http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lk46i5FdeH1qbmwa1o1_500.jpg)<br><br><span class="bbc_u">Backstory</span><br>A redneck from Texas, Jimmy grew up on the family land outside the city limits with a variety of lean mutts and cats. His father was an ex-Air Force senior officer, later a paramedic at the local Saint Joeseph's Hospital, who gave James a basic knowledge of emergency medicine and a taste for cigarettes and sweet tea. He also taught his son a great deal about their Scottish and Irish heritage, though he was less informed about the nature of their Native American relations. His mother was an ex-Navy senior NCO, then a cook at a local middle-class restaurant, who taught him, through years of practical lessons, how to endure the not-quite-clinically insane. <br><br>Both parents instilled a love of reading and learning on his own when highschool did not provide for his interests. He had a few very close friends, but apart from them almost no one knew he existed unless word was going around for the Nth time that "Jimmy Mac got in a fight". His reputation as a dangerous kid who would laugh at one insult, then start pounding someone in a rage for another, eventually spread to the teachers. While everyone else was talking about 'anti-social disorders' and 'domestic problems', the one-size-fits-all sports coach was looking at a list of Jimmy's so-called victims, many of whom were older, larger and stronger than himself. The next day, James MacAleyne was on the school's boxing team under the eye of an ex-Marine Gunnery Sergeant, and the hallway fights were over for good. Mostly.<br><br>Apart from being an avid reader with a preference for military history and historical fiction, Jimmy was always a firearms and weapons enthusiast, often practicing with the .45 automatic and 12-gauge shotgun that were the home defense weapons. As a highschool boxer, he became Central Texas regional middleweight champion at 16, though he was disqualified the next year for accidentally breaking an opponent's jaw. Frustration at his disqualification, shame from the harm brought on another youth, stress from his parent's reaction, all piled on top of every-day worries about tight money and family expectations, led to his First Change. He finds this part of his story sounds almost silly to most werewolves; Changing because you lose a boxing match? Get out. But when family is all you have, losing the respect of the only people who give a damn about you can be earth-shattering.<br><br>The event happened just two weeks after the infamous fight, and it was gory as hell, ending with a plurality of people dead or maimed by the end, his parents included amongst the deceased. It started as one of the by that point daily discussions of why he had hit that boy so hard; something inside Jimmy just snapped, and for the second time he lost control. Parts of the memory are a blur now, a fact for which he is thankful; it's enough to remember slashing his father open from throat to belly with a single swipe of his newly clawed hand, without knowing what it felt like to pick his mother up and throw her so hard against the living room wall that her spine shattered.<br><br>He still vividly recalls butchering his beloved dogs, all of them flop-eared, patchy colored mutts that he had rescued from the side of the road. He remembers tearing through the scrubland around his home, howling his agony and Rage to the full moon. He could describe in excruciating detail about how it felt to <em>almost</em> lose touch with humanity and go quite mad, but that is something he tries not to think about, much less speak of out loud. The only thing that brought him back was the Pure, a Fire-Touched preacher and his band of snarling sycophants.<br><br>By the time he had calmed down, when Luna had passed from sight and the sun was lighting the sky, the Pure were on his trail. Their proselytizing at first amused the impious youth, allowing him to collect a few shreds of his former life by mocking them, just as he had the Baptist evangelists and Mormon missionaries who had still sometimes come by the house when his parents were away. <br><br>Usually such cracks either enraged or unbalanced those latter types; it had the same effect upon the Fire-Touched, the problem being that Mormons very rarely have the power to turn into nine-foot-tall killing machines. None of them did that, but they did take the lesser forms, Dalu and Urhan, baiting and toying with him, the more humanly-formed calling out insults while the wolves danced and nipped around him.<br><br>So, for the first time in his life, Jimmy Mac ran from a fight. In truth, he only lived through a combination of persistence, never giving into their demands of surrender, and the fractious nature of the pack; they squabbled with eachother constantly even as they dealt with a potential enemy. Jimmy cut through them on instinct alone, surviving the quick and messy fight through his regeneration and their surprise that he would dare to flee.<br><br>Though a country boy at heart, he knew that he could escape the rural werewolves by heading to one of the big cities of Texas; he'd stayed out of Anshega claws thus far by making it to town and laying low. The closest possibility was Houston, desirable to him for its infamous urban sprawl and massive population. Of course, it was also the center of attention for the werewolves' internecine war in Texas. Almost as soon as he got off the Greyhound, he had Blood Talons all over his trail.<br><br>Unlike the Fire-Touched, the first <em>uratha</em> of Houston Jimmy met weren't interested in matters of faith or warring with their cousins; the city was secure against their most dangerous foe, but it had one hell of a pest control problem. Azlu and Beshilu were growing in numbers and tenacity, causing a considerable influx of Blood Talons spoiling for a fight. Still, they could always use another soldier, so Jimmy was brought into the pack as a Ghost Wolf expected to join their tribe if he so chose.<br><br>Where the Fire-Touched had shocked and frightened him with they're displays of savagery, the People of the Suthar Anzuth gave him an equal surprise. Convinced by the Pure that he could never be anything more than an animal pretending to humanity, the Forsaken led him to the other end of the spectrum; being long-time urban wolves, they had an almost excessive amount of self-control, rigid hierarchy. and a soldierly spirit that sang out to him.<br><br>The Blood Talons were the only real choice for him. Storm Lords? Posh bastards and control freaks. Bone Shadows? <em>Creepy</em>. Hunters in Darkness? Meh. Iron Masters? Tch. <em>City boys</em>. When he first told his new pack how he came to be in the city, one of them responded to a mention of that fight that seemed so many lifetimes ago with, "Damn, son! That was you? I heard about that fight, you shattered that kid's face!"&nbsp; Right then, Jimmy knew he was home again. His soon-to-follow induction into the tribe was broken into two parts. <br><br>The first was borrowed from a famous movie, his mission being that he had to pick a fight with someone and lose on purpose without giving up. Jimmy slapped the pack Alpha on the ass during a lull, and that was the end of that; she had a tattoo on her neck that said "Untouched By Man". She had to break his legs to keep him from getting back up with a grin, at which point the rest of the pack explained what was up. The alpha started calling him "Numb-nut" and that stuck for a while.<br><br>When his leg bones were healed, he was given his second task; find any one of the Anshega, draw them off alone, and fight them. Offer them three chances to surrender, then kill them and bring back proof; he still has two of Hellchild's fingerbones, the rest of his right hand having gone to rituals. His other bits of proof come in the form of several scars, obviously the work of a fellow werewolf. The fact that he had pounded the Anshega into submission using his Dalu-form fists caused the pack to change his deedname to Numb-Knuckles, which he was just a bit happier with.<br><br>James wears three dog-tags around his neck, two on one chain and a lone plate on the other. The matched pair are semi-legitimate, bearing his real name, birth date, blood type and Social Security number. The only thing to mark them out as being anything other than government issue are the letters USS Lexington, the legacy of the aircraft carrier turned museum where he acquired them. The single tag bears the same name, but is otherwise completely different; an authentic dog-tag issued to James MacAleyne Senior by the United States Air Force, the only piece Jimmy has of his precious heritage.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken Impressions: Character &amp; Experience Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Blitzy</strong> on <strong>07-07-2011, 00:32:20</strong>
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				<strong>Name:</strong> Haven Charles<br><strong>Tribe:</strong>Meninna/Hunters in Darkness<br><strong>Auspice:</strong>Elodoth<br>Haven's Sheet (http://sheetgen.dalines.net/sheet/11719)<br><strong>XP:</strong> 35 starting XP + 6 XP for Harmony drop + 16 XP for History/Pictures = 57 XP total. 50 XP spent, 7 XP left.<br><span class="bbc_u">Backstory:</span><br><br>Screams. <br><br>That was all she heard, the only thing that registered, in the bright moon that wavered overhead. <br><br>Most people would run from the screams, but she had to run towards them. There was an instinct that she could not stop nor avoid. As she stumbled through the brush and towards the beach, what she saw made no sense. There was no way that could be what she thought it was, because what were the fucking odds? <br><br><em>The lull of the waves always relaxed her, calmed the aggression that seemed to rage within her body, and gave her a sense of balance. Stretched out on her surfboard, the waves gently lifting her body upwards, while the sun beat down upon her back and the water kept her cool was as close to heaven as she'd ever been. <br><br>This stretch of beach was hers (or so she thought) and there were rarely any other people here. Most didn't want to venture through the wooded area to get to it when there was perfectly good stretches of sand without the trouble of the forest. It wasn't a dense patch of wooded area, but it was awkward when one was carrying a surfboard if they didn't know how to move through the underbrush. Thankfully, Haven's father had made sure that she knew how to operate in that type of terrain and brush, so it was second nature to her.</em><br><br>Haven's eyes re-focused in front of her, taking in everything at once, and yet not seeming to see anything at the same time. Her body was frozen, caught, as the violence played out in front of her eyes. Blood fell to the once pristine sand, shaken from... fur. It looked black in the moonlight, something that she'd remember later. Yet somehow, despite the scene unfolding in front of her, she didn't make a sound. Somehow, she instinctively knew that to draw the attention of the creatures in front of her would be a bad thing.<br><br>Hours, it seemed, passed as she stood there, in the shadow of the sand dune, as the fighting continued. Finally there was a howl of utter triumph and one of the creatures fell. As she watched the fur vanished and the creature became... a person. A horribly scarred person. She could barely see a spot, from her distance, upon the man's torso that wasn't covered with some sort of burn scar. Of course, now there were thick gouges in the flesh and the scars where the flesh had been torn open by the other creatures claws.<br><br>As she stared so intently upon the figure on the ground, the other one began moving. She saw it out of the corner of her eye and turned her head to get an even bigger shock: she recognized the person. Her breath caught in her throat, almost a whimper of sound, and she shifted backwards just a bit until her back hit the sand of the dune behind her. Haven's eyes scanned the face of the figure walking towards her and the shock just pushed through her body until all she could do was shakily say one word...<br><br>"...D-daddy?"<br><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v477/justafreak/forblitzy.jpg)</div> Two years after the shocking surprise of seeing her father engaged in mortal combat with another Werewolf, Haven experienced her own first Change. It was brutal for the young teenager, though at least it was not unexpected. She'd been learning with her Father, who was the Alpha of a smallish pack of Uratha just south of Galveston, for the past two years. She knew that there was a chance she would shift, that she would go through the Change, but they'd had no idea when or even really if she would. <br><br>The attack had come out of no where. The Fire-Touched had managed to get close and all hell had broken loose. Haven had been asleep when the house was attacked but she'd woken to the howl of warning. It was one of the few sounds that she was able to recognize and remember then, that warning howl, and she scrambled to get out of the house. She knew where she was supposed to go, to the beach, because she knew she could get out and her dad knew that's where she'd go. <br><br>She never made it out the window.<br><br>She was grabbed from behind with a mocking laugh echoing near her ear. A hand slid over her mouth and she was shoved up against the wall. Her captor mocked her, reminded her that she was not stronger than them, and she felt the reason she was being caught and held. There was anger, there was fear, and there was helplessness in her as she felt her clothing being torn. <br><br>Strangely, it was as her clothing was being torn, that she felt the stirrings of that rage that always seemed to lurk beneath her skin. She wasn't scared of being raped, not really, because she knew she was strong enough to survive the invasion. To her, it was merely sex, and the psychological damage didn't compute then. It was the feeling of being helpless while she heard the yelps and howls outside, wanting to help, that pushed her past that edge. <br><br>As soon as the man behind her started trying to work his cock inside her body she Changed. He, surprisingly, had not expected it. He wasn't even able to Change himself before she was ripping his throat out in her War form and his blood coated her fur. That was the last thought she had of that night. The violence swelled through her but she was just a bit late to the party. Her father had survived, though hurting badly, and he ran to draw the Rage from her body. She instinctively chased him, out to the beach, and it was there that he brought her down from the Rage. <br><br>When she was able to focus she was curled up on her side, half in the water and half on the shore, while she stared at her father. There was blood along her flesh, though the salt water was washing it away as she lay there, and she could barely breathe as the rage pulled away. She asked him then what was next. He could barely answer her, his own wounds so severe, and he told her that she needed to leave. That the pack had fallen and now she would be in danger. <br><br>The pack had been the last line of defense against the Fire-Touched taking over that area, and now they were no more. There were no more Forsaken around, only Pure, and she needed to leave before they tried to corrupt her and draw her to their side. She had heard the stories, of course, of the old legends and why the fighting had begun. She hadn't felt the calling to deal with it until she saw her father struggling to take his last breaths. The Alpha was reduced to a pup and she was still shocked and horrified at what had happened to her. <br><br>Before he finally passed he gave her his Klaive, something that he'd carried with him for far longer than she'd been alive. She took the weapon which didn't look like much, and left her Father to Luna. She did not know the funeral Rites then, she did not know what to do, so she did what she'd been told by her Alpha...<br><br>She ran. <br><br>It was a long couple months, carefully making her way north, until she finally came to land in Chicago. She managed to panhandle to gather some money, fuck a couple truckers on the way to pay for her ride, and she stopped in Chicago for now. She was balanced, comfortable in her own skin, though she was still young and new. She'd managed to save up enough money to keep going if she wanted, but something drew her to Chicago, something pulled at the young Elodoth, and she finally decided that she would hang around and see if the land called to her here as the ocean once had.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken Impressions: Character &amp; Experience Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Geeklet</strong> on <strong>07-07-2011, 01:33:02</strong>
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				<strong>Name:</strong> Monica Donovan, aka Takes-the-Punch<br><strong>Tribe:</strong> Storm Lord<br><strong>Auspice:</strong> Cahalith<br>http://sheetgen.dalines.net/sheet/11721 (http://sheetgen.dalines.net/sheet/11721)<br><br><span class="bbc_u">Appearance</span><br>(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v477/justafreak/317590233_b89e9deb43.jpg)<br><br><span class="bbc_u">Backstory</span><br>Dear Diary,<br><br>You know, I never used to understand why people would write these things. But after having been on my own, traveling for a few weeks now, I need to let things out. Its supposed to be cathartic, right? So, since this is the first entry and all, I guess I should start from the beginning, huh?<br><br>You see, I was born in... wait, scratch that. I'm not going that far back. I don't even remember that far back. I never had a home. Well, according to the state of Wisconsin I did, but nothing ever felt like home. You see, I was an orphan. Spent most of my childhood hopping from foster home to foster home. The official story is that my parents died in a car crash when I was a baby, but there was always this one lunatic who said there were 'mysterious circumstances' regarding their death. Yeah right.<br><br>So anyway, there I was, an orphaned little girl growing up in Green Bay. Whoever my foster parents were at the time.. they always tried to control me. Mold me into what they wanted their perfect little daughter to be. Fuck that. I am who I am, nothing can change that. So yeah, I guess you could call me a rebel. Always out with friends rather than at 'home' doing schoolwork or whatever. They say I ran with the wrong crowd, but my friends were closer than any family I ever had.<br><br>Now don't get me wrong. I may not have been an angel growing up, but I wasn't a heartless bitch either. Hell, I remember this one time where my foster mother at the time... Annabelle, I think her names was.. anyway, I was heading out, and she forced me to take one of the other kids she was looking after with me. His name was Tommy... real young. I was fifteen at the time, he was like, nine, I think. Real geek, not many friends... Guess she was trying to let him have a good time, and hopefully keep me from getting into any sort of fights. Anyway, we were out, and some jerks started pickin on Tommy. Picking on me, or my friends? Whatever. But picking on a little kid, come on.<br><br>I come over, tell them to stop, and they just laugh at me. I guess cuz they thought I was small, and a girl, I couldn't do anything. Well, at this point, Tommy, well, he knew I had a bit of a reputation.. and that even though I was a bit short, I still managed to come out on top when shit hits the fan. Its at this point he spoke up... "Judge her by her size, do you?" he said. Told you he was a geek. But admittedly, it was funny, we all had a good laugh, which got those little jerks pissed. Long story short, they learned not to mess with a little kid.<br><br>But you know, it wasn't until just before my 18th birthday that things began to get a bit rough. I had snuck out, going out to this party. Was having a good time, drinking a little, overall, things were good. Then the cops came. Everyone started to run for it, not wanting to get caught. I had ran off into the woods behind the house, and I had thought I lost em. All of a sudden, some sort of dog that had gotten loose started chasing me... even bit my damned leg. But that whole chase was enough to flush me out of my hiding place, and it wasn't log before the cops caught up.<br><br>So they brought me home to Annabelle, who, after giving me this long, boring lecture, decided to put her foot down. You know how in some of those old movies, it shows the rowdy kid being sent to karate class to learn patience and discipline? Well, it was something like that. Only with the recent popularity of MMA, she signed me up for one of those classes. Cliche, I know, right? Well, turns out I never made it to even one class.<br><br>You see, on my way there, I started seeing things... like a bad acid trip, only I hadn't done any. Something seemed to be following me, so I ran. I... I honestly don't remember much of what happened next... all I knew was that I woke up in a strange house, my clothes torn, but somehow, it all felt okay. One of em had a cell phone on them, and showed me what I became when I blacked out. But like I said.. it felt okay. It was like a great weight was lifted off my shoulders as I was told the truth. I was one of the People... I was Uratha.<br><br>So yeah... never saw my foster home again. How could I go back, knowing what I now knew? Heh, good thing I'm writing this, cuz I don't think I could say that three times fast. But anyway, after some time explaining things, helping me adjust, their leader came to me with a proposition. He liked my tenacity, and thought I could make a good addition to his tribe, the Storm Lords. What the hell, didn't have anything to lose, right? Just had to pass one little initiation.<br><br>Well, you know how you always see those idiots at sporting events out in below freezing temperatures without a shirt on? Yeah... They wanted me to attend a Packers game, middle of winter, wearing nothing but a bikini. Okay, no problem. I could do that. But I hated football. So to spice things up, I decided to also put some body paint on of the opposing team, and mess with some of the other people there. Little did I know that the team they were playing that game, the Vikings, were some kinda rivals or something.<br><br>So things are going alright. I'm freezing my ass off, but its no big deal. We get to about the third quarter, and this one drunk guy comes over, starts giving me a hard time. When I started giving him one right back, he drunkenly stammered, "You're lucky I won't hit a woman..." At which point his girlfriend, equally as drunk, piped up and said, "Maybe you won't, but I will!" And she decked me right in the jaw.<br><br>People say it was a helluva punch, but I didn't feel a thing. I just ignored the chick and kept on rooting for the Vikings. Oh the rest of the pack was howling in laughter. Of course, after the laughter died down, the alpha stepped up, and wanted us to head on out, figuring we might be attracting too much attention now. But at least dealing with those drunken idiots in addition to the freezing cold was enough for me to pass. Hell, they were talking about the punch more than anything. After that, they all but stopped calling me Monica, and started calling me Takes... short for Takes-the-Punch.<br><br>Next day, they were all still worn out from the celebration the night before, and I needed to get out of the packhouse for a while. I know they told me to stay in, for my protection, but, rebellious teenage youth and all that, I needed fresh air. So I went out, had some fun on my skateboard and stuff. I was out a while, but something didn't feel right.<br><br>When I got back, I saw this strange van parked outside, the driver staring intently at the front door. Not liking the looks of things, I snuck around back. What I found inside... a pack of Pure had tracked us down... killed all but the alpha. For some reason, the Pure kept asking about where I was... Me? What makes me so special. I was just a kid from Green Bay. But my alpha refused to answer. Paid for it with his life. I wanted to scream. But I knew if I let those bastards know I was there, they'd chase me down and who knows what woulda happened then.<br><br>So I ran. Did every thing I could to make them lose my scent, in case they somehow had picked it up. I tried to settle down in a small town... carve out a little patch of land for myself til I could get things straight and find some others. Didn't work out, though. Got a job working as a grocery store cashier. Do you know how stupid customers can be? I quit before I lost my temper. At that point, I knew I wouldn't be able to survive unless I could find some others, so I headed back on the road. Started heading towards the nearest big city. Among all those people, there had to be someone there who needed me, right?<br><br>So that's where I'm at now. By this time tomorrow, I'll be within Chicago's city limits. Hopefully I can find some solace there. If not, I'll have to find somewhere else. And hope I don't go completely batshit in the meantime.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken Impressions: Character &amp; Experience Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Black Howling</strong> on <strong>07-07-2011, 02:21:25</strong>
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				<strong>Name</strong> Kyle Reeves<br><strong>Deed Name:</strong> Nocturne<br><strong>Tribe</strong> Storm Lords<br><strong>Auspice</strong> Irraka<br>Character Sheet (http://sheetgen.dalines.net/sheet/11744?message=true)<br><br><span class="bbc_u">Appearance</span><br>Character Portrait (http://i283.photobucket.com/albums/kk320/Dark_Cresent/Black%20Howling/ra.jpg)<br><br><span class="bbc_u">Backstory</span><br>Kyle was born the son a former navy seal, and a local Chicago waitress. They weren't an ideal couple, and his father wasn't a straight and narrow sort but it worked. Around the time he was six his life switched upside down, his mother had somehow died, and his father wouldn't tell him how. All his father said was that she was gone, and they needed to get away from the things that had hurt her. That was when they went on the run, his dad teaching him tricks and techniques to elude their pursuers. It wasn't till he was ten that he learned some of those pursuers were the police.<br><br>Still, Kyle's dad told him all sorts of crazy stories about what they were really running from. Monsters that wanted him dead, why then did and that they were why his mother was gone. He payed attention to them, helping his dad out with the theft that kept them moving. By thirteen he was actively his father's second hand in the thefts, and his wheel man for when his pops had to do the job and he needed to make sure they got away quick. He learned a lot of things on the road that had them jagging around Chicago, dodging the police. That is until the true things that wanted them caught up. <br><br>Kyle was only eighteen when it finally happened, him and his father on their way to secretly visit his mothers grave. The <em>things</em> as he called them then attacked, and him and his father were hard pressed to hold them back. His old man did the best, his military training and special blade cutting deep gashes in them but he fell and Kyle was close. Something overtook him then as a new-moon night crept up on them, and his first change resulted in the death of both the creatures he'd come later to know as the pure. Out of instinct he hid it all, running until a pack of storm lords caught him.<br><br>Kyle awoke where they stashed him. The werewolves then explained a bit of what had happened, telling him the hows and why's in the typical fashion. From there they gave him a small lesson in how to survive. Over that small time, he came to value their beliefs and stepped up initiation. It was brutal, with them knowing his past they set him on a hunt for the true one that had killed his mother and marked him; the very pure that had done it. He barely made it through, but Luna proved on his side and he outwitted him and managed to use the junk yard to his advantage, crushing him under scrap before he took the pure's own tribal buoy-knife to finish him off.<br><br>Despite everything, he hadn't meant for it to go that way; but he passed the initiation through strength, honor, and cunning. They deeded him Nocturne then for the way he used the night to his advantage, and thus he became. He now carries the Tribal Buoy knife as a prize, a trophy of his victory. He still has many of his fathers contacts in the underworld here in the city, and ply's his trade when he can along with the stocks and the like his father invested with stolen money. He still has their car too, which he now uses as his to scout for his pack when long trips are needed. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken Impressions: Character &amp; Experience Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lady Lunarius</strong> on <strong>07-07-2011, 19:51:17</strong>
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				<strong>Name:</strong> Tally Watson<br><strong>Tribe:</strong>Ithaeur<br><strong>Auspice</strong> Bone Shadows<br>&nbsp;Character Sheet (http://sheetgen.dalines.net/sheet/11762?message=true)<br><br><strong>Personality/other</strong> Tally is a quiet curious woman, she enjoys nothing more than sitting down and reading a book on various subjects, or going out and experiencing it for herself. She is very loyal, and not easily angered or worried. When she feels something is not right with her interests she goes forth to discover whatever has caused the imbalance. <br><br>Having gone through the change in her late teens, she has since learned many new things from both her tribe and "friends" she's met along the way. Always eager for knowledge she learned to handle weapons, and her gifts as well as a few other things. She takes her training and studies of the spiritual world seriously, and prefers not to be interrupted when a particular subject has truly caught her eye. <br><br><strong><span class="bbc_u">Appearance</span></strong><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i262.photobucket.com/albums/ii89/CowGoil08/tally.jpg)</div><br><strong><span class="bbc_u">Backstory</span></strong><br><em>Tally hurried through the park, her dark eyes focused and determined. She'd seen her again, that girl. The strange girl who'd been following her around since she was a kid. Why after all this time had she decided to reappear? She knew what she was, she'd done enough of her own studying to uncover it. Taking a slow deep breath she kept going, willing the girl away. It wasn't that she was scared of her, it was that any time the girl was around strange things would happen. <br><br>Nothing bad really, but things would fall, or people would see her trying to talk to no one that was there. One time, Tally remembered, the girl had appeared in the passenger seat of her car, and she nearly ran off the road. But that was a while back, this was now. She was used to seeing her, unafraid for the most part when she appeared. "Please just go away." she begged the girl who only skipped ahead of her, that same solemn look plastered on her face as before, her braids bouncing against her back. <br><br>A soft rustle in the bushes made her pause as she stepped from the path into the middle of the park. The sky was clear tonight, beautiful really with the way the moon was. A crescent, half sleeping, or better yet, a mischevious smile. Looking to the bushes she shook her head, swearing she smelled something strange. A pain shot through her stomach and vanished just as quickly, and she gasped for air. It had felt almost as though she'd been ripped in two for a second. <br><br>Looking around she tried to find that little girl, but she was gone. Another pain over took her and she screamed out, clutching her head this time as it resounded through there. Her eyes welled with tears as she dug into her scalp as thoughs trying to pull her head of her own shoulders. Next, her legs gave out and she found herself writhing on the ground, screaming in agony. But then her screaming vanished, she couldn't utter a noise, not one single noise.&nbsp; <br><br>"Oh god how can this be happening." Tally thought to herself as the pain ripped through her. Had she really messed things up this time?Had she truly fallen so far from grace that she was to die a horribly painful death? What was happening to her. Her fingers gripped at the hard earth beneath her, a silent scream issuing from her lips as she felt as though she were being ripped and stretched. Her fingers began to claw at her own flesh, almost as if to rip it away from her and her fingers felt something strange. <br><br>Oh gods, was that fur? Was she growing fur, what the fuck was happening? She screamed again, no sound coming out once more. She could smell something, wet dog, and...something else. What was it? Was she being rolled onto her back? Her eyes were weilded shut from the pain. Was someone rubbing her. The pain rippled even more as whoever it was began to stroke her head. But it wasn't a hand, at least,it didn't feel like one. The smell of wet dog and something more travelled through her senses, and a low howl resounded in her ear. <br><br>Her eyes opened wide at that point, her mouth as well as she started to scream. The wolf looked to her, giving a soft wimpering noise as though to say "I know your pain." It was only then she realized it, she'd called him to her, beckoned him. What she thought were silent screams had been howls, unheard through her agony. A tongue lapped at her forehead and she gave one last scream before everything went black.<br><br>Sometime later, she's not sure how long, Tally awoke, her eyes focused, and her mind racing. Any trace of the pain from before was gone, but something warm shifted against her and she gave a soft shriek. It smelled human. Shaking her head she moved back, only to brush into something, or rather someone else. Where the hell was she. A grunt had her turning her head, her eyes focusing on the dim light that came from beneath the door. Carefully she snuck over, peering beneath the door, another grunt issuing beneath it. <br><br>"If you're not going to rest, come out here."A gruff voice said behind the door, and she did as it said, looking back only once to see two other worn out looking nude forms resting as she had been. Their hair shuffled, their face blotted with blood and dirt, and something felt as though it were not their own blood she was seeing. Looking down at herself her eyes widened, "What the hell, where are my clothes?" she said, though her voice was dry, hoarse sounding. <br><br>The man who'd been sitting at the counter rose up, smiling at her, "We'll have to get you some, for now you may wear this. Have a seat and drink all that water and I'll explain everything." he said tossing his own shirt to her, his tone bare chest showing many scars that reminded her of claw marks. It was sometime later after he'd explained everything to her that the others woke up and he further explained what was to be done from now on.<br>~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br>3 Months later<br>~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br>Tally looked down at the small locket that lay between her breast, her fingers tracing it lightly. The other two who had gone through their first change were gone, with tribes of their own, having completed their initiations and now. It was her turn. Taking a deep breath she waited in silence that little girl dancing some distance away that solemn looked plastered to her face. The others looked to the girl as well, "We should banish her; send her from this world, but if you wish to see her leave it peacfully, uncover what it is she wishes." The elder told her, and Tally only gave a nod in reply.<br><br>The only problem with their task was that the girl didn't seem to speak, even with their knowledge of the first tongue, nor with hers. And so she began to research, looking into how she'd come across the locket herself, she'd even tried searching for the girl herself and that's when things became interesting. It seemed that the girl had gone missing shortly after a fire in their small home, but no body was ever found. Her mother, who'd been searching for a long time had been driven mad trying to find the girl. <br><br>The small bus creaked as Tally rode towards the asylum, her dark eyes focused on the girl who seemed to know where shewas going. As the bus pulled up out front the girls eyes grew wider almost excited as Tally stepped off, pulling her pack up more, "Are we going to see mommy?" she asked, her voice filled with sorrow. Tally drew in a breath, had the girl just spoken after all this time? Maybe this was what she wanted. To see her mom again before she left. Not wanting to be seen talking to herself right outside a nuthouse she only nodded and moved forward, brushing the necklace once more.<br><br>"Her names Sarah. Sarah Wright!!!!" the girl said excitedly and Tally relayed her message to the receptionist, who looked rather worried. "Yes, Miss Sarah is here, but....are you family?" Tally nodded and after a bit of talking the woman agreed to five minutes. As they walked down the halls, she forced a light smile upon her features knowing the woman had been through enough pain to last a lifetime. "Sarah, hunny you have a guest." And the woman looked back expectantly, only to turn around the moment she saw Tally.<br><br>"I'll be back in a few minutes." the woman said before leaving, "Hi Sarah." she said reaching back to unlatch the necklace. "I have something for you, and so does&nbsp; Lacey." The older woman sat up, looking back with searching eyes as Tally held out the necklace, "Here, this is from Lacey." she said, setting the necklace down. The girl was dancing around her mother, though the woman didn't see that, "She's here...my Lacey girl, she's here..." Tally only nodded as the woman clung to the necklace, "Keep that near you and she'll always be near..." Tally said before she opened the door and walked out. <br><br>As she stepped outside the asylum, one of the elders met her, a look of approval upon her features. "Well done, and welcome." She said giving Tally's shoulder a firm squeeze before she walked off motioning for Tally to follow. <br></em><br>
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