J A C K || L Y S A N D E R || D A W E S

Jacky, the Midnight Wolf, Loverboy

March 31, 1995


Los Angeles, USA

Devoted || Gay - Engaged

½ American ½ Canadian

Werewolf || Midnight Wolf || Son of Fenrir

"--The Sun, the moon, the truth."


"Could you imagine trying to juggle being a normal, hormonal teenager and being a raging werewolf?"

Jack had to learn real quick that being a werewolf was both a blessing and a curse. He couldn't tell anyone what he was. Couldn't allow himself to get close to anyone ~ not even his family. And when the hunters showed up on his door step one day, firearms at the ready, he ran. He ran and he never stopped running. Every few days he'd find himself in a new location under a new alias.

It was his way of surviving.

The Boy Who Cried Wolf ~

Jack's adoption was set through an adoption agency in the city in which he previously resided. He was but a month old when his parents would come to fetch him from the hospital. As tiny as he was, Jack was a quiet infant. He rarely ever cried, fed plenty, and he grew quickly. At the age of four, his parents adopted another young child. This one a little girl. She was only a year old. Jack would become the best, most protective big brother on the block. By the time Jack was six years old he'd already outgrown most of his clothes and was kept under constant supervision due to the sudden rise in his body temperature. He wasn't a sick child. At least not in the normal sense anyway. And doctor's were at a loss as to what could be causing such a distressing illness. But Jack didn't appear any different. He still ran around after his sister, still rough and tumbled with their father and helped their mother with the cooking and cleaning. 
Jack was a good boy. 

September 28th, 2001
7pm was the time the Dawes residence would sit down to supper. The children, six year old Jack and his three year old sister, are tearing around the house. Jack’s gone and stolen one of his sister’s dolls again, the rascal! Little Bethany is screaming her lungs out and races away from Jack who has cheekily hidden himself behind a large indoor plant in an expensively large decorative clay pot. A wooden spoon to his backside has Jack yelping, tears pricking his eyes as he hands the doll back to his sister. Their father is preoccupied in his study and won’t emerge until dinner is called to order. But dinner never comes. The front door is kicked in as three men rush across the threshold bearing arms. Round after round explodes from the barrels, glass breaks, wood splinters and bodies fall. All but one were slain in the Dawes residence that evening. Little six year old Jack had remembered something his father had told him many moon cycles ago. “If anythin’ happens, ye run. Ye hear me, boy! Ye run and ye n’ver look back!”
And that’s exactly what Jack did. He ran until he could not run no more. When his bare feet were bloodied and bruised and his lungs felt like they were going to explode.
A Wolf in Boy’s Clothing ~
The origins of Jack's werewolf genes were lost somewhere between conception and adoption. His biological parents didn't want anything to do with him after the birth and he doesn't know he's adopted, nor had he known he was one of the cursed ones from the book of Fairy Tales his adopted mother would read to him before bed. Little Red Riding Hood being his all-time favorite. His wolf is quadrupedal and considerably larger than the grey and timber wolves that inhabit the earth. Unlike his boyfriend's bipedal form, Jack gallops on all fours. His fur is inky midnight black with deep, sapphire blue tips and there is a small white tuft of fur on his chest between his forelimbs and around his bottom lip. Large hues of scintillating burnt umber drink in the world from a different perspective. In this form, Jack retains his humanity to some degree. Though he cannot speak, there is the possibility of telepathy in which to communicate with other wolves within the immediate area, however Jack does not yet know how to active this ability and therefore uses the old fashioned barks, growls, rumbles and howls to do his communicating for him.

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  • Profile undergoing changes.

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    - Mhorir


    Owing: Anzu & Kujo

  • He tilted his head to the side every so slightly, staring at the woman sitting on the bed in front of him. It was clear to him that she was pretty shocked at the information that he had just told her, how he was that same rabid dog that she welcomed into her home last night; it didn't come as a surprise to him when she started to piece everything together. He could smell the fear rolling off her body in waves, that same fear that he always smell from his victims when they say him in dog form, though he chose not to attack her last night but spare her and wait until the right moment to strike her and take her out that way. Kujo could understand her confusion and anger right now, but at the same time, never in his mind would he try to scare the woman, let alone threaten a woman the way he did just, it was the fact that she was freaking out and thinking that he was going to harm her but what person wouldn't think that right?


    "Look, I'm sorry for intruding into your home like this....don't worry about the food in the fridge, I'll replace it all."


    That was all he said to her before he walked towards the door, unlocking it as he pulled the bedroom door open and walked out the room, making his way down the hallway and into the front room towards the front door. Reaching for the doorknob, he turned it and opened the door, walking out as he closed the door behind him gently, not once did he look back nor was he hestitate in his steps when he left her apartment. He sighed, rubbing the back of his head as he groan, walking down the steps and onto the ground floor of the apartment complex looking around, granted that he had no shirt nor shoes on at the time when he got to her place last night. 


    Thank god his own apartment wasn't that far of a walk from her place or anything, upon walking outside, a neighbor from within the apartment complex was outside with her dog when she looked up to see Kujo come walking by, he wasn't really paying attention but he was pretty sure that the woman was checking him out and admiring his tattoos that covered his torso and whatnot, plus not to mention that he had a huge 'X' mark on his chest right where his heart was. After what happened last night and just now, maybe the woman would have probably stayed far away from Kujo or hell, even call the police when she felt that he was a good distance away from her home to even do anything; and since he did eat up the vast majority of her food in the fridge, he was going to pay her back by buying her more food to put into her fridge and freezer that should last her for a while..

  • Anzu has a heart-beat, alright.  Pumping as strongly as a war-drum in his chest with perpetual energy.  He's a machine of wonder; complete with all the bones and organs and blood--just like all humans, most creatures on this earth, in fact.  Like the wolf himself, no doubt.   In an odd gesture of subtle defiance, he tips his chin up, as if exposing his throat to those gleaming fangs for inspection.  He's not afraid.

    "A specialty?" he mirrors, finding it an odd term.  Although.. he supposed it wasn't a wrong one.  Quirking a brow, he reaches up and pushes his fingers through his hair in yet another attempt to tame his unruly spikes; it doesn't work. "Right, the blue fur.  That's wicked cool, by the way." Anyone with eyes could tell this male isn't like the other wolves--and his are cursed with the power of to see beyond "ordinary."

    "They saw me, didn't they? Them and the crows and all the trees these last four days--no, I guess only the crows eyes can see through that veil.." He trails off, laughing loudly with care-free joy. "I was here.. shepherding, aye, that's it."

    He watches with a frown as the wolf starts it's--his--sniff-fest.  Anzu curls one leg into a knee and pushes at the wolf's shoulder with his other foot. "Stop that." He smelled--- human-- good, despite having hung out in the woods for the last four days without showering.  But Jacky wouldn't be able to keep the brilliant gold and reds of Fall from creeping into his head; his memories of the season in particular and flashes of autumnal leaves swirling in an empty field..

    "You haven't a clue," he argues, lips twisted into something like a grin. "the trees never shut up, and the crows-- all they do is spread vicious rumours.  And even the shadows have eyes and noses and mouths.." The way he says it is like the wolf should know it, or at least that he believes it wholeheartedly.

    With the threat of being sat on again looming overhead, he scrambles to his feet where it's safer.


                    “My mother once told me that if I wanted something, I should be persistent on it,” he contested her with, inserting the gun into a minimum ray of moonlight that had managed to perforate the tree above, consuming the cigar and its venom as the time slowly dragged on between them. He had all the time of the world to be there if he wanted to. Admittedly, he was flabbergasted by her reaction to the abduction, as if she had accepted her own fate. She was somewhat calm, which unnerved him, but did not deter him from accomplishing his objective. Obligated to comply with her without producing a mess, Heinrich withdrew the cigar from his mouth, puffed out another cloud and permitted it to idly linger a few inches beneath his chin.

                    “It’s a personal matter. You saw something you shouldn’t have seen. You were in the wrong moment at the wrong time,” he vaguely explained, aiming now the gun at her, just for her right thigh. The gun, fortunately so, was also suppressed. Her screaming, of course, would not be. The police officers, all of them, were still busy enough at the amphitheater, already beginning to set a crime scene investigation in its innards while Heinrich, the criminal and the one responsible for the explosion, was too occupied with the only witness that had caught a glimpse of the German.

                    “I suggest you get in the car. I wouldn’t do anything stupid or you will regret it,” he finalized, glancing over to the passenger’s door, which was located on the left side of the European vehicle. Did she have a choice? No, not at all. He wouldn’t give her one, to begin with. It was do or die. 

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the Midnight Wolf ( αnd σthєrs ) and Uɲǚṩʉⱥʟ Ȼʀɘɕȶựʀə are now friends
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Owing: Anzu & Kujo"
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"That would explain the lack of surprise, the Midnight Wolf flip-flops its large head left, than right, listening for something other than a heartbeat. He did have a heartbeat, didn’t he? Not human. That could have meant any number of possibilities.…"
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"The impact created a clap of thunder so loud it startled the wolf, whose ears had perked up and were twitching left, right and center like satellite dish trying to find a signal. A thick pelt of black fur with midnight blue tips ruffles as it’s larg…"
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"Surrender the throne, they said. It would be good for the pack, they said. Bullshit! It was all bullshit. And now look where he is. Lost in the middle of some ganky forest shrouded in mist and covered top to base in frost and snow. Despite running a…"
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