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                  “I dreamt of becoming a part of this supernatural shitshow world since I was a kid.

  And I did, just not how I’d hoped. Because now I shed, and my goals of going vegan are shot to shite.

                             Guess it falls under the category of ‘be careful what you wish for.'”




                    ABOUT THE WOLF


Oliver is a smart-mouthed wiseass who loves nothing more than a good joke, though never at the expense of someone else; he’s a teddy bear. And usually, he's happy, friendly, a veritable ray of sunshine, and polite when needed, though far from formal. He is also a bit of a Casanova and frequently flirts around with pretty girls. The lad does not respond well to authority figures. Like, at all.

Oliver has trouble focusing and is mentally hyperactive 24/7. Almost certainly, he has undiagnosed ADHD. He has poor planning skills and often has problems following through with tasks due to being easily distracted. He is also highly impatient, a trait which never fails to get the boy into all sorts of trouble.


After his encounter with the werewolf, he is prone to periods of depressive episodes due to the fact that he inadvertently got all of his friends killed. He’s remorseful, bitter at himself, and may appear distant. Overall, he is less himself on most days and more like a shadow of his former happy self. And around the days before the full moon, due to its influence, he becomes more aggressive, impatient, unpredictable, wild and animalistic. He may say or do mean things that he later comes to regret.


10625363458?profile=RESIZE_710x10625366079?profile=RESIZE_710xOliver was born in 2001 in Richmond, London, Great Britain, to the Harker family, great and venerated vampire slayers, starting with Jonathan Harker who dealt a great although temporary defeat to Dracula in 1894. Oliver always took great pride in that fact. He was fascinated by his mother’s stories growing up. He wanted to be a hunter too.

Oliver was afflicted with asthma from a young age, which only became more severe as he got older. At the age of six, an altercation between him and a classmate even caused him to have such a severe asthma attack that he was sent to the hospital.

He attended Hampton High, a secondary school where he befriended Tom, Mark, and Lucas, his three best friends. He confided in them the truth about his family’s profession, showing them irrefutable proof when they first laughed him out. At this time, he also worked as a barista at a local Starbucks, but was let go when he insulted and threw coffee at a rude customer.
When he turned 19, he was brought before the leaders of the four families, one of which was his father. The four families lead the Van Helsing Association, a large group of vampire hunters. He was to receive his initiation into the group, and start his training. But unfortunately for Oliver, it was decided by the four leaders present that he should not be allowed to join the Association. They said this was due to his asthma, which they argued could potentially present itself as a problem. They thought he’d only ever be a liability to both him and his fellow members.
He resented this and pleaded for his case, trying to convince them his asthma was under control, that it would not impede him in his duty. They did not listen, and he was dismissed.

Infuriated with their decision, Oliver stormed out, thinking himself a failure.


Months passed, and he grew jealous and felt looked down upon, like a stranger in his family. Because each one of them had done greatness, except for him. His friends had tried to console him, but he still felt terrible. They felt bad for him.
One day one of his friends approached him, Mark, who told Oliver of a suspicious man he suspected to be a vampire after witnessing his immense strength kidnapping a woman. Mark said he saw this from a hiding vantage point late at night. Mark then told Oliver that they were all with him, the two other of Oliver’s friends, to hunt and kill this vampire. And initially, he was reluctant, his inner voice of reason telling him, no, but due to his sense of loneliness and inadequacy within his family, and his desperate want to prove himself to them, he ultimately said yes.

They tracked the ‘vampire’ as it left Richmond to the outskirts of the town of Crawley in West Sussex; he had holed up there in a secluded house in the middle of a small woodland area. They entered, expecting the vampire to be found sleeping somewhere in the house because the sun was out. Instead, they found the place to be in a horrible condition, rotting and wet, and more horrifically...with scattered human remains in various stages of decomposition.
As they were leaving, disgusted by what they’d found, the exit they found was now blocked by a rough-looking man with a tangled beard. He was holding a shotgun pointed at their face and telling them to pull up seats, tie themselves up, or he’d shoot. Left with no other options, they complied. He proceeded to brag, telling them throughout the day when he came into the room how he’d enjoy feasting on their flesh soon. He was so caught up in his rant that he did not notice Oliver using a small shard of broken metal to slowly cut through the ropes when he was not in the room.
Eventually, as night crept upon them, the man entered the room a final time, his weapon absent for some reason. And Oliver, having finally cut through enough rope, burst free and took the man by surprise, knocking him back, stumbling backwards and hitting his head against a shelf. He lay unmoving on the floor while Oliver went to free his mates. Though just as the last one was released from their bonds, the moon shone through the windows.                              The supposed vampire on the floor then became revealed as what he truly was, a werewolf. 



Knowing they were unequipped to deal with the threat and traumatised, frightened for their lives, the four friends began to flee towards the door. Tom was grabbed in the process, and gutted instantly, his insides spilling onto the floor. Meanwhile the rest successfully got out of the house and ran across the yard, pursued by the beast. They even got as far as escaping into the woods before another one of them was struck down.

The wolf got on top of his friend Mark, Oliver saw looking back, and caved in his skull with its teeth. He and Lucas kept running.
Running for over two minutes, they thought they were in the clear and took a breath whilst hiding in the bushes to regain some stamina when the creature suddenly pounced from behind in the dark. It ripped Lucas apart, literally. Oliver ran, hearing how his friend's body's upper and middle parts landed on the ground with a wet thud. He didn’t get far, though, as the creature knocked him down, and he felt strong teeth close around his shoulders, and sharp claws dig into his lower abdomen. By sheer dumb luck, he managed to grab hold of a sharp stick that he used to escape, stabbing the abomination in the eye.

He ran, fueled by adrenaline alone.

The creature lost him, eventually, but he continued running anyway, entering a residential area where someone called an ambulance as he collapsed in front of them. He fell in and out of consciousness, remembering only that at some point a nurse asked him his full name, and he gave it.
He later woke up in the hospital, quickly seeing that his injuries had healed fully. He quickly put two and two together and realised that he now had the wolf's blood coursing through his veins. He knew what he now was, and would become, each rising of the full moon.
Feeling a horrible shame and guilt over what he’d done, and terrified of what his family would do if they found out what he now was, Oliver chose to flee. He left just as his family had arrived at the hospital, narrowly avoiding being caught by them. He saw their faces, presumably for the last time.
He fled to New York, America, taking only with him what small things he could get from home before his parents returned from the hospital looking for him. He took some clothes, his passport and his credit card, the latter emptied to pay for his way to America. He also took with him a stuffed animal given to him by his grandma.




Arriving in New York, Oliver refused to get a work visa for fear that his family would be able to track him down. He instead took up an under-the-table job as a stripper and erotic dancer at a gay club and as an occasional male escort.

Initially homeless, he eventually moved into a fellow co-worker’s run-down old flat in Hell's Kitchen.

In America, he struggles with his internal wolf, with each moon spent locked up in the basement of the apartment building, in the boiler room where he’s chained himself up, hoping no one finds him or that he manages to break free and hurt someone.
Somehow, in all the misery, he maintains hope that somewhere or someway, there is a cure and a possibility for a better life.






Notes of notice;

I have been writing for 10+ years. I may be picky about who I write with.

I suffer from bipolar disorder, which sometimes affects the quality of the replies or the time it takes for me to reply.

My main account is Dracula, and I welcome those characters who may not vibe with Oliver to try there. 

The werewolf skull thingy seen above is made by this wonderful evil bean.





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September 6

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  • ~May your love soar like the untamed Eagle~ 

    Nathan bit his lip discreetly to hide his amusement at the customer’s verbal, and probably mental, stumble. That wasn’t something uncommon at this hour, but it was always amusing, and relatable. He himself was the same way when talking to… pretty much anyone he didn’t already know. Seeing others go through something similar made it feel less embarrassing perhaps. Though it wasn’t just the stumbling that got to him. It seemed that the young man in front of him too came from overseas. No one here used some of the terms that came from his lips. It was a bit odd hearing such a familiar accent outside of the apartment. Not that it never happened, this was New York after all, tourists from around the world came here and Nathan had come across more than a couple from his homeland before. Still, it always caught him off guard nonetheless. It reminded him of his childhood, before his mother fell ill and they had to move here to the States. They didn’t have any family left in London, and his mother didn’t want to spend the rest of her life in a hospital bed. Better to spend the remaining time with those that mattered the most. And her mother had insisted they come too as although she was quite old, she could still move about quite well. 


    Nan had moved to New York with her late husband soon after Nathan’s mother moved away from home and she always hoped that her daughter would come visit. Though, life took a different direction. She fell in love with the wrong man and had a child much too early. By the time Nathan was born, the man had vanished, leaving the boy’s mother to raise him on her own with no family nearby. She’d done a decent job though, they’d had a decent life. But by the time Nathan was 13, she had fallen ill and the doctors could do little but prescribe medicine to ease her pain. No one could figure out what was making her ill so she decided to call her mother who told her to come to New York. They’d seen the doctors here too, but nothing really came of it aside from more meds. Which was why Nathan was working here. Meds were ridiculously expensive here.

    But returning to the task at hand, Nathan brought out a small notebook and a pen as he made ready to scribble down the order, stopping once the boy mentioned the waffles. “Unfortunately we’re not allowed to start serving the waffles until five thirty.” he paused for just a second before continuing: “At least we don’t get the supply until then, but I could check with the chef if there’s any batter left if you’d give me a minute. If not, I can recommend something else tha’ might taste a bit like home? Our baked bean sandwich with bacon and cheddar is fairly popular with the regulars” He nodded towards the man in the corner that Oliver mentally remarked upon entry. “Did you still want that coffee by the way, or you trying to catch some kip before sunrise?” he added with a nauseatingly friendly smile.

  • ~May your love soar like the untamed Eagle~


    11:24 pm, Dinah’s Diner, 9th Avenue, Hell’s Kitchen.


    The door bursts open, nearly causing one of the waitresses to drop the tray with dishes she was carrying. A shrill yelp escaped her as Nathan rushed in, throwing his backpack to the ground not even stopping, as he lets out a short; “Late! I know, gotta use the bog” booking it through the kitchen and towards the restroom. The waitress shook her head and sighed as she put the tray down and continued her tasks. As Nathan rushed past the stench of day-old frying oil, sweat, and grimy corners that had probably stood neglected for months, he snatched a work shirt and an apron on his way. He quickly greeted the tired chef in stained clothes who clearly just wanted - and definitely needed - to take the rest of the night off to spend with his family on the way. It didn’t take long for him to finish up in the restroom and re-emerge with the same speed that he had entered with, but this time with a shirt that wasn’t drenched in sweat. As he returned to the back room where the dishwasher was located, as well as the staff entrance, he apologised to the waitress for being late. Again. She told him that she’s not the one he should apologise to and directed him to the front desk where another girl, probably a couple years older than the both of them toiled away running back and forth between taking customers’ orders, cleaning tables, and checking in on the chef. Nathan didn’t say a word, only gave her a regretful smile and made his way to the counter. 


    “Hey, Sam, shouldn’t you be on your way home by now?” he jokingly asked her to ease the potential tension caused by him being late. “You mean shouldn’t I be AT home? I woulda been home by now, I only live 15 minutes away, Nate” she replied with some annoyance, but no ill-will. “I know, I know, I’m late” - “Again?” - “Again! But I have a good reason?” he added to which Samantha only added a low “Mhm” followed by a raised brow as she put the towel away and made her way to the back. “You’re lucky your cute British face is good for busines!” she added from the back as Nathan made ready to take over.

    The rest of the evening was fairly calm. Hours went by with a few hurried business people running in and out for a late coffee or a sandwich -to-go, a couple of regulars that often stuck around for longer chatting with Nathan as he tended to other customers, waited tables, cleaned the counter, poured coffee, made jokes with the chef, ‘Daddy Diaz’, and whatever else needed doing.

    04:11am. A face he doesn’t recognise enters the diner and sits down by the end of the counter as Nathan is briefly in the kitchen talking to the chef. As he spots the newcomer, he quickly finishes up and makes his way to the front again. His eyes quickly analysed the young man, deducing that his day could’ve been better, and quickly prepared himself for whatever may come. Tired customers often needed a little extra friendliness. He approached the patron with a gentle smile, drying his hands on his apron as he introduced himself and the place with a cheery tone and notable London accent, tainted slightly by at least a few years in New York; “Hi and welcome to Dinah’s Diner, I’m Nathan, what can I get you tonight?”

  • 10923190463?profile=RESIZE_400x

  • *chucks Tundra's dog food bag at you*  >8[ 

  • ||Thanks for the add! Casey is a different kind of shifter character, very cautious, scared and confused about what she is.||

  • 23SQ.gif


    | He's forever a work in progess, but I'm ready to write if you'd like to start a thread. |

  • You can have an entire sack if you're the goodest boi



  • 10628010301?profile=RESIZE_584x 

  • Woof. 

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"I have the patience of a saint. Have waited months at a time for a reply. "
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"Again, slow replies. 
I'm sorry, this week is cursed."
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