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 "BLOOD and INK..

                             ..will write these stories.. "

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Logan was born nothing more than a mere wolf, at first. A pup and it's twin sibling while the other two of the litter had perished. Together, the twins had been inseperable through their lives. The pack was strong and the two became another number to face. His sister eventually took her stance as the alpha when their father, the alpha, and elder siblings perished in war of Arcacia. His twin rose and took the reigns, Logan far too unstable to have been chosen to lead..

At a young age, Logan began to show signs of "split personalities".. He believed he had a "evil" side and fed into it, giving himself reason to satisfy his inner desire for the fight..the rage.. And being bred a warrior only improved this unstable side of him. Still, his sister trusted him as he did her and kept him close at her side as the pack moved for the next part of their fight. 

Eventually, in the end, all perished or disappeared. The pack had fallen. Logan lost his mate, his sister, his mother and this made him far more volatile, so volatile he abandoned his daughters and disappeared himself. 

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Mere wolves they may have started out as, but there was magik wound within these wolves.. It started when a family of mages took it upon themselves to charm wolves and use them for protection. This continued on until the family was bled dry and the remainder wolves returned to their wild roots. This magik.. It allowed these wolves to create human counter parts, among their other powers. 

 

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Like reversed werewolves.. 

 

 

 

   

Logan lived a good portion of his life as a wolf. It was his preferred form, but in time he grew curious of the human world.. His first involvement was in World War II. He joined on the Axis powers, fighting along the Italians, but went rogue before they, too, turned on the Axis powers. When the drug cartel wars began to arise along Spain, Logan heavily involved himself. The man quickly learned the languages fluently, the ways of a conman and fed his desires in any shape or form. 

 

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   Many a wolf are deemed shapeshifters or werewolves or just some creature with the added ability to bare it's features, and perhaps Logan is all that remains of his kind, but like a man is taken by the beast's will, Logan was taken by the opposite.. He grew up alongside wolf and men alike, but it took time to truly become something resembling human.. At present day, Logan can be well mannered, speak wonderful english, among other languages, and seems well versed in the modern world, but long before that he was only an animal. Sarsks magik remained within the bloodline, but for what stories Logan's been told, he'd deemed the magik well enough weak that most of what came of it was far out of his grasp.. His sister first found her human form and Logan, reluctant, only found his own if to use it on rare occasions that specifically called for the form.. But, upon finding his human form, he found mental complications that he nor others could quite fathom.. Suppose the animal had always been a bit unhinged.. but this was a new level.

The wolf had began as a curious and ambitious pup.. In the pack, no one is hand selected to become alpha for which was only determined by the challenge, but he was easily seen to become a warrior rather than a tracker, or a hunter as his family had evolved in status. His sister seemed meeker, following her brother's lead, but upon the change of his stability, she leveled out the lead before then having to become alpha herself. As Logan grew older, he became more and more volatile, but he was often protective and loyal. He was embedded into pack hierarchy, even as he achieved Beta status with his own mate and pups. However, once he allowed the man to consume his mentality, this hierarchy became lost upon him. It has been many years since he's been a part of a pack.. Perhaps, it was just his way of escaping the pain of losing his family, of what once was, but some order was needed.. 

The animal needed to be free again.. to live his wild roots. No medication would cure him, but this achievement, alone, could bring some stability back into his life and with it, who he once was. 

 

Amarsetzu = A Darkness

Pitch = Pitch black

21101d1af7b4b9d5004c8a7783e61fb6.gif?profile=RESIZE_710x The first was his birth given name upon by his father, while his twin sister was named by his mother. He was never quite pleased with the name, as though his father sensed something he couldn't that had been coming.. By the time he'd turned to a more human side, Logan was his own self given name.

765071.gifPitch had been merely a nickname given more fondly by the pack, more for the fact of his pitch black fur, his twin sister being of the same color and same eye color, their build usually how humans told them apart, or scent, mind speak and mannerisms through pack, of course.. But in time, after a fight against Arcyrus, nearly falling to his death, Logan was left with odd patches of white through his fur, mainly seen around his right eye and a portion along his maw, or beard in human form.

He has only been known as Logan. No one would call him or know his other name..mright.gif?w=842&profile=RESIZE_710x

However, you may only hear his original name mentioned when he speaks of his other "half". The part of his personality disorder, that is. His father once mentioned a taint of the blood from his side, his own great great grandfather who'd shown a darkness upon the mages and was thought to have been possessed by demonic forces, but with no real truth coming forth, most simply believed Logan had simply had a mental disorder and maybe that was just it.. or maybe not. This other "side" entails his inner most desire for destruction and pain upon others who cross him. As a Guardian bond wolf, his kind were not known for being aggressive, unless threatened first and made to defend themselves, Logan as a warrior only meant he was in the front line during a pack war or keeping the perimeter clear on pack territory. However, Logan ended up being the more notoriously violent one. It only got truly worse once his pack had already fallen.. They wouldn't see the monster he's been feeding.

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 Often times, he'll snap and satisfy an inner urge, but after has shown to try and fix his mistake. He has mild schizophrenia, voices in his head he knows does not belong to anyone else, but rather believes it's his "other half" speaking to him. He does not try to justify this as an excuse for his actions, as this part may make Logan appear of only bad intentions, but there is much more to him and he's not really all that bad at all. Sarcasm and mild cruelty or humor is sometimes used as a defense mechanism, but suppose he's a lot like an anti hero for the best comparison..

 

Maya Gonzalez is his current bane of existence.. Long ago, Logan had involved himself with drugs and more specifically the business of the drug trade, enjoying all that came with the power of money, sex and drugs. War was his first initial introduction to the human world, something he was familiar with already.. But this was different. It was a different kind of power. He was with the Gonzalez family as far back as before Maya's birth. She knew him as one of her father's men all her life and as she'd become a woman, there was a few nights they had together, but..once she realized he did not love her, things dramatically changed.. Posie, his mate's name was still embedded by ink upon his chest, over his heart, what now has a knife's given scar over it from Maya, after she'd lashed out upon him, nearly killing him then and there.. But he was a strong asset, acheived more than most of her father's men and his life was saved.

Maya is now in charge.

She runs the cartel and him with it. She knows of his nature. Her father had, too. He was their " attack dog", as Maya snidely called him the few times, but upon learning that she could bond him to her existence for life, she has quickly taken it upon herself in learning the magik of the Guardian bond. Logan, learning this, is struck with how shitty a situation that'd be and has essentially left the cartel, trying to burn his bridges with it and her. It's proving not to be so easy.. He will not be forced to serve her, as she does not deserve his loyalty.. 

 

  

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Name: Logan (Darro) - Amarsetzu/ Pitch

Age: A century or two

Biological sex: Male

Sexual preference: Bisexual 

Mate/Lover: Posie (Deceased) - single

Children/pups: Anna, Layla, Amaki, Kai (All alive)

Pack: Lone wolf

 

Hair: short, either naturally black with splotches of white or dyed fully black or white.

Eyes: A sharp deep blue

Skin: light skinned, marred by scars and some Ink

Wolven pelt: mostly black with odd patches of grey and white that grew in later

Height: 6'5 ( A goddamn giant )

Wolven form: 5'2 at the shoulders on all fours

Weight: 224 lbs

Wolven form: 247 lbs

Clothing: usually described as a viking/biker hybrid. He loves his furs when he's naked as humans typically are, but also enjoys leather, however being fully naked is always a plus, too..

Body Build: Muscular- bulky around the arms and broad shoulders as well as upper torso, but with a slim waistline. Strong muscled legs, large feet; equally large hands with long pianist like fingers.

 

Mental status: 80% unstable

Disorders: Multi personalities, mild schizophrenia

Physical status: Healthy and strong

Physical disabilities: None

Vices: Cocaine, Weed, Ecstasy, Vodka or Whiskey and Cigarettes. 

 

Birth Land Origin: Some range of Russian Mountains 

 

 

Alliances: w.i.p..

 

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             Powers and Abilities: 

                         ↓             ↓

  • Shapeshift:  Created himself a human counterpart

 

  • Bloodline Telepathy: He and those of his blood can communicate through the mind.

 

  • Guardian Bond: An old magik for which carries still within his bloodline and can be called upon by those who know how and once called upon, he must bend to it's will and serve. 

( Depending the plot, I might explain..)

 

  • Heightened senses: They have the typical heightened senses much like werewolves might.

 

  • Blood Moon Divinity: During blood moons, they become impervious to hellfire and therefore are a better match up against creatures like demons and hellhounds. 

 

 

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This dude was my first ever created character.. There's a lot to cover and I'll get to that soonish.. 

2005 is his birth year.. Skjxjfjf he old lmao

  

THREADS ARE CLOSED

Dyson Mercer - Reply sent 

Eleanor Kane - Reply sent

Kross - Reply sent

Kougar - Reply sent

_______________________

 

 Fc: Michael Eklund

 

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  • \\Knock knock! Stopping by to let ya know that I'm doing the final touches on your response; sorry it took me ages to get back to ya :(

  • [Sounds good to me, and sorry for my brief hiatus, work and events in real keep me busy.] 

  • Luckily enough for Logan, he isn’t the object of her hunt tonight. Her actual target has a much bleaker fate in store, if all goes according to plan. A hot date with the business end of a  stake, in fact.

     

    As for Logan’s intentions, she is neither aware of his previous run-ins with her family, nor does she really care to be, in all honesty. He isn’t the first one to recognize her, whatever he was, and she knew he wouldn’t be the last, either. There existed a distinct reason for her nomadic nature, and it was highlighted by Logan and Lenny’s little interaction.

     

    She’ll have to skip out of here as soon as she accomplished what she came here to do…

     

    What Logan picks up between the vampire and the Huntress are small snippets of feigned conversation. The man doting on her quite attentively, with the dead eyes of a predator and a grin to put a shark to shame. She flutters, batting thick lashes and blushing, answering in saccharine tones that are dripping with poisoned honey.

     

    “Really, it’s my fault, I should’ve been paying better atten-” There’s a small, sharp gasp from Lenny as she accidentally pricks her index finger on a shard of glass, the sweet smell of blood permeating her vicinity as it starts to pool and bead. The vampire’s eyes turn stormy, tumultuous and dark, and he captures her wrist in the next moment.

     

    “I’ve got a band-aid in my car…” He purrs, already leading her towards a nearby exit.



  • (Well cool beans. We should banter sometime then :)

  • Logan’s rubbed her the wrong way already, but who didn’t? She wasn’t exactly the overly friendly type, nor did she really have any friends at all, for that matter. There were only allies and enemies in Eleanor Kane’s world, trust was a foolish concept that she’d never participated in, only formed mutually beneficial bonds over.

     

    The vampire she’s clearly after starts packing up his things, throwing some money on the table for a waitress to scoop up when she cleans up the mess of empty drinks and plates and napkins the group has left lying all about.

     

    Right now, she’s more focused on tonight’s goal rather than striking up conversation with someone who knew her family’s history.

    On another night, when she were indulging in more pleasurable activities than business, she’d likely have given Logan the time of day. Tall, brusque, rough around the edges- exactly the type she liked to sink her claws into.

     

    “Yeah, the rumors are true. And you’re right.” Lenny’s already out of her seat, flashing Logan a devilish grin and a wink. “It doesn’t make it sound better at all. If you’ll excuse me.”

     

    She wasn’t a fan of working with an audience, but by the way Logan’s hanging around, she has the feeling he isn’t going to slink off any time soon. And so, she “accidentally” bumps into the vampire, spilling the drink he’d been holding and feigning a gasp as it crashes to the floor, shattering into a few large pieces of glass.

     

    “Oh! Exuse me, I’m so clumsy.” Lenny bats her lashes, apologizing as she crouches down to start plucking up the glass. Her entire demeanor changes, bumbling and airheaded. The leech has already taken the bait, of course, pale lips peeling back in a grotesque smile while too-black eyes graze the woman up and down appraisingly, settling a little too long on the slender column of her neck. “Allow me.” He says, too charmed with the mortal beauty in front of him to notice the signs that she might be a little more dangerous than his ego would suspect.

     

    Hook, line, and sinker.

  • Predators followed prey, and a place like these were always somewhere they flocked to, using the advantage of crowds to try and slip away. This one, the squirrelly man giving off that horrid stench, wasn’t any sort of big fish. Just a small ladder on the way up to a larger goal. Cannon fodder.

     

    The leech has no idea he’s being watched, carrying on with a group of others that either don’t know what he is, or they don’t care. Laughs are shared and the drinks are pouring, though it isn’t alcohol that the man is after, no. He reaches into his pocket when he thinks no one is looking, slyly pouring a thick, vermilion red liquid into his cup that smells of iron and life.

    But what Kane had Logan crossed paths with if not her? Her father? Her grandfather? She was, in fact, the famed only female, and whispers of her presence ran rampant through the underground networks of Earth, where the things that went bump in the night stowed away, passing information from mouth to mouth.

     

    When she came around, death surely followed.

     

    He towers over the woman, who is petite and delicate by all appearances- not a single physical indication that gives away her true, roguish nature. She’s as lovely as all that hearsay promises, too, all soft skin and full lips, a face better suited to pose behind a camera rather than engaging in gritty violence on a near nightly basis. That Kane blood, fiery and boiling, runs hot through her veins. It was much the same dance of deception that her enemies engaged in, all masks and smoke in mirrors. No one ever got close enough to let their guard down, and if they did, they didn’t live long enough to tell tales about it.

     

    “You’re doing a fantastic job at irritating me, however.” She chides, tilting her head back to finish off the rest of a whiskey that’d long since gone warm. The glass, bulky and empty, is set gently back on the counter. She knows nothing about Logan, or even what he is aside from the fact that he is obviously not undead.

     

    “Why the Hell would I indulge you in any of my plans?” Her nose crinkles, features contorting into a look that silently, but not so subtly, questions his sanity. For all she knew, he’d been sent here to kill her. But alas, the mouse she’s chasing has stirred, guffawing and clapping his buddy on the back as they all begin rising from their seats.

     

    “I don’t have time to be gawked at like some slab of beef at the butcher’s.” Sharp words and a biting wit, she shifts uncomfortably underneath Logan’s stare, eyes wandering to find the man who’s chatting with too large of a group for her to infiltrate just yet.

  • It didn’t matter where she was.

     

    After a while, details started to blur together. The differences between cities got harder and harder to discern, and Eleanor Kane stopped paying attention to them. She’d become a little jaded over the years, perhaps, an existence floating between humanity and something else eroded some of her sharp edges.

    The dive bar she’d ended up in was like any of the others she often ended up in. Dimly lit, poorly decorated, and encased in a perpetual cloud of hazy smoke, so thick with the stench of sweat, debauchery and sin it was head spinning. The script ran ad nauseum- stalk, chase, kill. Lenny could all but run through the motions in her sleep.

    A faraway gaze is lost in the amber liquid sitting impatiently in her glass, somber expression painted heavily across seraphic features. It’s interrupted only by an unfamiliar voice directed her way, one daring enough to capture her attention.

    Large, hazel eyes holding far too much intelligence for their age drink Logan in, putting a few pieces together. He knew who she was, that much was obvious. Something about having her mask removed out of her control makes her quite uncomfortable, and it’s visible in the way her posture stiffens. How her brows knit together. How the fingers of her left hand dance down into her jacket, brushing against the ivory handle of a revolver tucked comfortably into the waist of her jeans.

     

    The woman doesn’t dare break his gaze.

     

    “As long as you stay out of my way, I won’t have to make you into a runner, too.” She warns, a thinly veiled threat that dies off on the rim off her glass.

  • (Thanks for the invite. I loved me some Bobo. The actor played him well. 

     

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  • The first thought had been a bear. Perhaps these hikers simply strayed and got to close to a sow and her cubs. Then, the sightings of something more sinister arose and the need to look into the matter became apparent. Dyson spent a good amount of his time looking over pictures of what remained from the scenes of the crime. Not a whole lot, but flesh that had been carved by tooth or claw did give some hints to what could have happened. Bones had been gnawed on, stripped of meat and left in splinters as something gorged deeper into the marrow. It was violent, almost done in a mindless fashion as though the creature had no idea where to begin.

    So, there he is with a hotel waiting for his return when he finished this investigation. Dyson wandered until he came across some yellow tape that warned that a crime scene was up ahead. An officer was supposed to meet him here, but it looks like he is going on his own. He lifted the tape with his finger and ducked beneath it, then continued onward. At least there is a pleasant trilling of birds somewhere in the trees to give this ominous trip some cheer.
    He finds a tree with deep grooves cut into its bark. They had a distinctive distance between them that he could splay his hand and run his fingers along. Hm...

    The birds had stopped. The trees loudly groaned when nothing was there to fill the silence, creaking as they sway with the breeze passing through. Dyson steps from the wounded tree and presses on until he finds the trail of a scuffle, some blood dripped on ferns and vegetation. *Fresh*. Shit.
    Dyson pauses for a moment, maybe he should pay attention to his surroundings now...

  • WARNING

    THE FOLLOWING CONTAINS MATURE THEMES.

    VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED......

    ______________________________________________________________

     

    What happens when you mix water and oil? They don't mix correct? Not everything mixes but....when it does mix the outcome of it can be either good or either bad and in this case, the outcome of what was bound to happen would more then likely be a bad on. Well it was bad because....there were no survivors after the crash and you would think that no one would have survived that wreck but you are so very wrong again my dear friend. You see....what we have here is a case of a drunk driver...but let's say that it was a drunk driving accident but the only problems that was there was that he wasn't drunk by any means, he killed those people on purpose. Why did he kill those innocent people? Had they done something wrong to him or were just at the wrong place at the wrong time? We are just gonna say that these people were at the wrong place at the wrong time and got caught in a crossfire before a pack of rouge wolves and himself. The car itself was completely total out, the headlight of the car kept flickering between on and off as if the bulb in it was about to go out, pieces of the car lay in the street as the car itself was on fire and burning. A couple of feet away lay the body of a male who looked to be no more then in his early 20's....poor fella didn't even make to see 30; his body was....how does one say a criple? The male's body was just....not how it was suppose to look cause bones were sticking out in various spots and his eyes were wild open and as for his lovely companion who was with him...well she was impaled to a tree near the wreck. A tree branch that was broken by someone or something stabbed right through her chest and he heart was hanging at the very tip still very much beating like a normal heart should be doing. All in all....the scene was just downright horrible....but there was a third party in the mix....

     

    Kross on the other hand survived, though he was having one of his episodes again when he was back in war, he black out the moment those people tried to help him; he meant them no harm whatsoever and all they were trying to do was help the bastard but instead he snapped and just did the unthinkable to those innocent people. Kross was very well known in the area as well as being very popular with the law enforcement in the area as well, there wasn't a call that was made to the police station that involved Kross somehow and as much as he tried to stay out of trouble and keep to himself, there were times when he would literally just black out and not remember what happened during his little episode like now; he could hear the police sirens coming in his direction and he had to move fast before they got to his location. He knew that they were probably was gonna come knocking on his door later on since they wouldn't believe his story that he would tell them, he needed to get out the area and fast but he couldn't leave....where could he go? Who could he go to when something like this happened to him? But he had no other choice but to run from the scene before someone spotted him, but he knew that he may not get far and that the moment the police start to make the connections they would put out a man hunt for Kross...it was only a matter of time and he knew that better then anyone.

     

    His heavy boots carried him further and further away from the scene, the further he got the lesser he could hear the sirens getting closer and closer to the scene, he needed to get back to his apartment somehow...he needed to grab a few things so he could get the hell out of town before police officers started kicking in his door to search for him and the last thing he needed was a bunch of law enforcement barging in on his peaceful little life that he was trying so hard to live. The streets were barely empty and yet...here he is running through the crowd, pushing people out of his way and constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure that he wasn't being followed by anyone but still, he couldn't shake this feeling that he was being followed and watched by someone but who he didn't know and that is what scared him more then anything in this world right now. Panting heavily as he made a sharp right turn and ducking into an ally, trying to catch his breathe for a moment...though he wasfar from being safe out of the woods just yet....he still needed to get home before he was spotted by someone....

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