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OLIVER HARKER - 2001 - BRITISH - MALE
HUMAN / WEREWOLF / LYCAN
6' - GREEN EYES - DIRTY BLOND
FORMER STARBUCKS EMPLOYEE, STRIPPER - MALE ESCORT
AMBIVALENTLY HETEROSEXUAL
“I dreamt of becoming a part of this supernatural rollercoaster 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
A smart-mouthed wiseass with a strong penchant for all things sarcasm, Oliver always comes armed to any given occasion with a plethora of sharp quips at the ready, though never one that lands at the expense of someone else, as the lad's a total softie, happy and friendly like a dog and every bit as loyal.
This is an attitude that extends to his mannerisms as well, as Oliver is known for his casual, laid-back sort of charm that will win over just about anyone in the end. Particularly those of the female persuasion, as he's noted for being quite popular with the ladies.
That being said, Oliver's upbringing has equipped him with the ability to adopt a more formal tone should the need arise to do so. Granted, he does not respond well to most forms of authority and so good luck getting that stubborn pup to sit if he doesn't want to...
Also, having a great bit of trouble focusing and being mentally hyperactive 24/7, Oliver almost certainly 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 him into trouble.
Following his fateful encounter with the werewolf that infected him with lycanthropy, Oliver has become a shell of his previous self; he struggles with the 'wolf inside him' and a severe case of depression on top of that as he grapples with the overwhelming guilt and sorrow of losing his friends and former life back in England.
Oliver's behaviour is now also partially influenced by the lunar cycles: the closer to the full moon that he is, the greater the shift is towards negative traits such as aggression, impatience, unpredictability, arrogance and animalism. He may say or do horrible things to people around him that he later comes to regret.
Born in England on September 2nd, Oliver's birth into the Harker family all but destined him to inherit their noble yet blood-stained legacy of protecting the living of this world by hunting and destroying the undead in the shadows – their calling and sworn commitment ever since the legendary Jonathan Harker defeated the infamous 'Count' Dracula back in 1894.
Oliver grew up hearing stories about this heroic encounter through his mother's bedtime stories as well as his own readings of Bram Stoker's book later on, leading him to aspire to follow in his family’s footsteps and become a hunter in his own right someday.
However, Oliver’s journey would prove a difficult one as, even since early childhood, he grappled with a pretty severe case of asthma and was even sent to the hospital one day following a fight with one of his playmates when he was seven, which, unknown to Oliver at the time, caused his parents to question their child’s ability to pursue hunting in the future.
At the age of 11, Oliver attended Hampton High, a co-educational Secondary School, during which time he made best friends with three of his classmates: Tom, Mark, and Lucas, and with whom he shared many crazy adventures and later even made the bold decision during a drunken impulse on his 16th birthday to divulge his family's secret profession as hunters. And though he was initially met with laughter and scepticism by his friends, Oliver provided them with undeniable evidence by unveiling a captive vampire held for interrogation in a warehouse owned by his family, an act which got him in a boatload of trouble afterwards with his parents, as he had not sought their consent beforehand, resulting in a five-month grounding period for him.
The year after that, Oliver landed his first job as a part-time barista at a local Starbucks, though sadly, he did not hold on to that position for very long, as he got fired for having retaliated against a typical Karen who had been hounding him relentlessly since his first day by hurling cold coffee over her head. Also, on top of this, Oliver received a long and boring lecture back home from his mom about patience, or something to that effect.
When Oliver turned 19, he was summoned before the esteemed leaders of the four families who governed the Van Helsing Association, a revered organization of vampire hunters of which his family was a part, and among its four leaders, one was his own father. It was a crucial moment for Oliver as he was about to be initiated into the organisation and commence his training. However, to his dismay, the four leaders deliberated and ultimately concluded that he would not be permitted to join. Their decision was based on concerns about his asthma, which they argued could potentially pose a risk during their perilous missions, as well as his. They expressed apprehension that his condition might compromise not only his own safety but also that of his comrades, deeming him a potential liability.
He resented this and pleaded for his case, trying to convince them his asthma was under control and 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, given the fact that there were only five other people in his family history who had not been hunters: Robin, Kayla, Keegan, Tom, and Isobel.
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.
Comments
~May your love soar like the untamed Eagle~
Nathan swiftly pulled a pen from his apron and jutted down something on a small piece of paper and was just about to turn around when the boy in front of him gave his name. He paused for a split second, unsure of whether it was out of courtesy, or whether this Oliver was trying to flirt - as had happened before, though mostly with young women.
“It’s nice to have you by, Oliver. We don’t get a lot of newcomers at this hour.” he said before quickly turning around towards the kitchen, calling out to the chef; “Ey, Daddy Diaz! Could you check if there’s any batter left? Got a new’n here” in a twisted London-New Yorker accent. “If you’ll just sit there for a bit, I’ll go check the batter situation or in worst case have chef throw some toast together and then fix you some coffee! Sugar’s there on the counter, and if you want milk just ask, I’ll be with you in a jiffy.” and with that, the brown-eyed boy disappeared behind the corner leading into the kitchen.
About a minute went by before Nathan reappeared with a plate upon which Oliver’s first request rested, in his other hand a bottle of syrup. He gracefully placed the plate in front of the other lad, followed by the syrup bottle. “This one’s on the house” he said before continuing- “But we’re having some trouble with the coffee-maker so apologies if it gets a bit delayed. Seems the nozzle is clogged.” and as he finished his sentence, the doors flung open as a tall man in full suit and suitcase, reeking of sweat and way to much cologne hastily stepped into the Diner. Mornin’ kid, the usual please he said barely even looking at Nathan who replied explaining that the coffee machine seemed to be malfunctioning but that he expected it’d be fixed in a sec. The man disgruntedly looked at his clock before he took a deep breath out. That’s fine, got an extra ten minutes today. Nathan thanked the man, whose name seemed to be Mr Harris before turning his attention towards Oliver once more, grazing him with a slightly concerned smile.”If you need anything, just let me know, I’ll go see what’s wrong with the machine. Wish me luck, never had this happening before.” he bemoaned, wiping his hands on his apron. On his way to the coffee maker, which was standing in the far end, right next to the kitchen entryway, he leaned in over the kitchen window to get Diaz’ attention. “Could you fix Mr Harris’ special while I try and fix Bertha, she’s being a knob” he asked before grabbing hold of Bertha the coffee-maker and leaning in to see what the trouble may be.
~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?”
*chucks Tundra's dog food bag at you* >8[
You can have an entire sack if you're the goodest boi
Woof.