-Werewolf-
---General Information---
-Full Name: Kyros
-Nicknames/Aliases: K, Ky((Pronounced kai))
-Actual Age: 139
-Physical Age: 23
---The Specifics---
-Appearance: K is a younger adult, appearing to be in his early twenties. He stands at about five foot eleven inches, with a muscular build. His jaw is squared and masculine, lined with no facial hair at all. Kyros' nose is thin and chiselled, like his jaw, with an almost angled shaped to it. Lying on either side of his nose is a pair of almond-shaped, electric blue eyes. He has thicker, blond eyebrows, arching a short distance above his optics. Kyros' lips are thin and pale, hiding a set of perfectly straight, brilliantly white teeth. His dirty blonde hair falls messily off of his head, spiking occasionally at random points. K has a thinner, long neck with an adam's apple protruding forward. His adam's apple is a bit larger than it probably should, giving him a mildly awkward appearance when he speaks, as it moves up and down. His shoulders are broad, his collar bone prominent. He's a muscular person, as previously stated, and this shows in both his upper and lower body. His upper body is pale and cut, showing defined pectoral muscles, and abdominal muscles divided into six bars. His arms, muscular like the rest of his body, contains bulging veins, because of the blood that it takes to keep his body running at all times. His legs are also well-toned, and like his upper body are covered in scars from past battles fought.
-Preferred Wardrobe: Kyros prefers to wear a pair of baggy cargo pants and a strip of leather as a belt. These pants contain dozens of basic weapons from his original arsenal as a hunter. Hanging from his right hip are the two long swords that he inherited from his father. He also occasionally dons a pair of thick leather boots, unless of course he's planning to morph; which would just make putting shoes on a waste of effort. Because he morphs so often, though, he prefers to go barefoot. Like his feet, his chest is also completely bare. He used to wear a black leather trench coat, but that was burned a hundred years previous.
-Wolf Form Appearance: In wolf form Kyros becomes a large, muscular canine. His fur is a mottled black and white, his back, tail, and head all pure back. His neck, stomach, and the backs of his legs and paws are all snow white. He has electric blue eyes, just as he does in his human form. He stands about twice the size of an average wolf, which a powerful, authoritative aura about him.
-Personality: Kyros is an odd soul. He's noble and responsible, and will always take care of his pack. However, he's also good-humored and takes most things very lightly. Though he is ambitious and wants to lead his pack one day, he also refuses to be referred to as anything above his pack-mates, and seems to be a bit bashful when given a lot of attention. He's extremely combat-oriented when it comes to beings he dislikes, but when confronted by anything other than a vampire or demon he plays the 'lover not a fighter' act. Kyros is constantly trying to help angels, purely because of the guilt he feels for a previous job he had to do. Kyros, while very intelligent, tends to act with little common sense. He's an expert tactician-something he learned in the century that he spent with a military- but he doesn't often show it. He seems to have some sort of painful memory or self-hatred birthed from that century, and refuses to talk about it, or show any of the skills that he learned during that time.
-Likes: Food, Lillith, Combat, Other Wolves, Animals, Freedom, Running, His Blades, The Future, Eternal Youth, Trophies, His pack.
-Dislikes: Fire, Silver, Vampires, Demons, Deforestation, Republicans, Pious people, destruction of innocents, losing a fight.
-Hobbies: Gardening, Hiking, Fishing, Cooking.
-Fears and Goals: Forest Fires, Death, Losing his pack. Goal -> To be Alpha.
-Special Characteristics/Skills: Being an Ex-hunter, Kyros has extremely well-developed skills in tracking and combat, as well as an arsenal of hunter-esque weaponry which he uses in place of morphing on occasion.
---Character/Roleplayer's Bio---
-History:
Born to the human race, Kyros once had everything that a mortal child could ask for. He had parents, a home, a name, and a stable future. He was a happy young boy, living in a farm house with his two parents, a dog, and no siblings. They were a close, loving family, and were hardly ever apart. However, every weekend K's father would disappear for a day or two and come back with the money that they needed to buy everything they would require to survive another week. Kyros never questioned this, he figured his father just had some really cool job that he only had to do on weekends. Kyros was mostly right. At the age of eight Kyros started learning martial arts, and the art of swordplay. At first it was disguised in games and books that his father taught him to read with, but as he grew it became serious training. At the age of fifteen his father introduced him to the family business; Creature Hunting.
For a year Kyros went through an intense training like nothing he'd ever done before. On his sixteenth birthday, he was offered his first job. His father asked him to help on a simple vampire hunt; a small band of vampires had inhabited an abandoned house just a short way away from the nearest village. Armed with nothing more than a few silver-edged knives, Kyros followed his father. Their information had somehow been leaked, however, and the vampires were waiting for them. The ambush was brutal, and Kyros was the only one to survive. He didn't kill them all, but they ran off. Kyros pocketed his knives and drew the two long swords from the ground where his father had dropped them as he fell dead. Shedding tears for his father, he ran off after the vampires. The vampires had ended up in the village, three vampires short of the amount he had seen running away. What happened next to Ky was all a blur to him. One second he saw the first vampire, and the next he was covered in blood and standing in the front doorway of his farm house. The three vampires had began rampaging through the countryside, and K had found them just in time for them to rip through his mother's throat in front of them. He killed them in a blind rage, like the others.
Four days layer Kyros had buried his parents and set out on his own. For the first year or so he did rather well, hunting for small towns and villages that provided him food and shelter, and occasionally a little bit of money. However, as he moved further and further into urban areas; where work was more abundant, he discovered that just swords and knives wouldn't help him. People just wouldn't hire someone who didn't have the stereotypical hunter weapon; a gun or a crossbow. K purchased two pistols, which he carried only when looking for work. They were really just for show; he never even bought ammo. Again his hunter business would begin to prosper. He began collecting trophies on a long wire, which he would occasionally have to add to when his trophies became a bit too abundant.
While he technically owned his old home still, and occasionally visited it, he was mostly a nomad. This nomadic lifestyle is what brought him to Lillith. The she-wolf was morphed in a forest that he was tracking in, though he wasn't tracking her. He instantly fell in love with her, when she turned back into her human form. Though she was physically much younger, Ky didn't care. They talked, and were suddenly interrupted by a demon. Kyros protected the she-wolf, dispatching the demon easily. In return, she turned him. Though he had strong feelings for the she-wolf, his motivation behind becoming a werewolf had nothing to do with such positive emotions. This was the only way he felt that he could be strong enough to eliminate all of the vampires in the world.
For a short while he travelled with Lillith, who hadn't had a pack of her own. She began to accumulate wolves, forming a pack that she was the Alpha of. She was the Alpha, he was her Beta. For a while everything was good, the forest was prosperous and they never ran out of food. However, their pack was the smallest, not even recognized by the other werewolves. They were taking up space in the woods and the other packs couldn't have that. Ky and his pack were ambushed by the other wolves, and Ky tried to lead them to safety. However, Chase-a boy he had been teaching to hunt for a while now- was left behind. Kyros came back to find him pinned under a larger wolf. Freeing from the wolf's hold, Ky stalled the ambushers long enough for Chase to run. The next thing he remembered he woke up in a hospital bed.
He would be informed that he was rescued by the german military who were out on a simple scout mission, making sure that the werewolves who were allowed to live there had been keeping up their best behavior. Since there was no way of proving that he wasn't a part of the packs that were eliminated due to the battle that was going on, Ky was given two options. Either he joined an elite force of mottled creatures that worked for the military, or he was executed. Left with little to no options, Kyros joined the military.
For the next century he ran with the squad. Unlike his previous life as a hunter, this was more like a genocide. He took out any group of mythical creatures that they were asked to. The squad-consisting of him, two demons, an angel, a ghoul, and an animated skeleton- were asked to take down entire cities of creatures because the military deemed them 'dangerous'. On occasion they would even have to travel to other countries that had contracted them through the German military. Throughout the years they lost and gained members, but the new ones were never as good as the originals, and they didn't last much longer than a year or two tops. Eighty years into this job, Kyros was the last of the original squad.
Twenty years later he was free. He had escaped during a genocide of angels, which he couldn't stomach. Finally deciding that this wasn't right, Ky took off, daring the other squad members to try and catch him. They did, and they fell to his claws.
Kyros returned to the forest that was his original home, and found a pack that took him in. Though he was the strongest of them, and most fit to lead, he was also the newest and least respected. He didn't mind, however, and stuck with the pack patiently, waiting for his turn to lead. Often-times he thought that he saw Lillith in the distance, but when he searched himself he couldn't find the love he had once harboured. The military had changed him, severely, he would never be the same.
-Roleplay Sample:
Just an hour before sunset was the time; the town was the place. What a lovely concept, fate, it brings people apart and tears others from each other. It's so fair and just, and yet some choose to whine and bitch about how it hates them. What a ridiculous thought, fate hating someone, thought the beautiful woman known as Nagare Warui. More specifically, she thought this as she wandered her way into a dark alleyway. Because of the convenient placement of the buildings, the sun shown through into the alleyway, despite its low position in the sky. This sunlight revealed her appearance to anyone who happened to sneak a peak at the figure as she walked into that vacant space between a filthy strip club and a pawn shop. Nagare looked an eighteen year old girl, but if that was the age you would guess you'd be more wrong than a straight man in the fashion industry. She had slightly tanned flesh, unmarred by acne or scars despite her age. Standing at only five feet four inches, she was an average height for a woman. She was nearly twig-thin, with a flat-yet visibly unmuscular- stomach. Her arms didn't appear to carry that much muscle in them, because her muscles are compact and wire-like. This was a result of more acrobatics and such than actual combat training. Nagare had a heart shaped face with sharp, defined features. Set in her eye sockets were matching cyan-colored eyes, like the brilliant sky above her. These eyes were rimmed by black eye liner and eye shadow, bringing out the brilliant hue even further. Nagare's eyebrows were thin and arched, ebony in color just like her hair. Between those cyan eyes was a thin, bony nose, her lips also thin, and a light, rosy pink shade. She had high cheek bones, small round ears, and a regal air about her. Her smile was brilliant, revealing perfectly aligned, achromatic teeth. She wore her ebony hair down around the sides of her head, pushing the bangs to the sides to frame her face, while the back was pulled into a ponytail that spanned down half of her back. Moving on a bit lower, her neck was an average height, her shoulders not very wide. She had an average bust, which she had wrapped in a bikini top. Her favorite bikini top to wear is a white one with black pokadots, and that was exactly the one that she was wearing. Her arms were long and slender, her hands small with longer, bony fingers. Fingernails painted black, both middle fingers containing rings in the form of dragon heads. Even further down, she had wide, shapely hips. This was because of her feminine qualities, brought on by puberty. She was wearing jeans, black as her hair. Because she was so skinny, she had to wear a black studded belt, to keep her pants from falling down. Upon her feet were black converse sneakers, with red laces poking out and brilliant white toes.
The alleyway she had stepped into had about as many things to take in as her, which weren't much. The ground was made of dirt, scattered rocks playing the role of eye catcher, should one walk staring at the ground. The rich brown, almost black, dirt was occasionally broken up by white pebbles and other small, white, rocks; like stars on the inky night sky. On either side of her, just three feet in, were two dumpsters, one for each building that made the alleyway. The walls were made of brick, both, and close enough that even she could reach out and touch both with her fingertips. Dirt scattered as she walked on in, kicking it up as her feet skidded over the ground. Next to the green dumpsters were garbage bags that hadn't fit, though the alleyway didn't really seem to stink all that much. It was only a few more feet in that she would reach a wall that marked the end of the alley. The wall was identical to the two buildings, and in the dimming light became almost invisible to her. A sun sank down the horizon, marking a new night and a new form for the beautiful girl who had entered the alleyway.
Suddenly, her form began to become engulfed in shadows. The shadows swirled around her, lashing out at the alleyway, creating gashes in the walls as if they were the claws of a massive beast. Within seconds the sunset was over, and night came into the scene. The sky turned inky black, pinpricked with white lights, and one massive white circle that was a full moon beginning its feverish run from the wolves that the cruel Norse gods had set after it. Shadows fell from her body like water, hitting the dirt and sinking in like it was being absorbed. The form that was left was an astonishing one. She appeared to age at least four more years, being in her early twenties now. Once lightly tanned skin was now a stone grey, though not unappealing; it was smooth, soft looking, and unmarred just like her human form. A small stretch of yellow flew from her body as the hair-tie snapped, allowing her hair to flow down as it should. Wavy bangs covered one eye, her hair seeming to have grown and gone from straight to a beautiful wavy texture. It fell over her chest, spanning down to about her belly button, the back falling to the same length; her silky hair was still dark as the sky above her. Goat-like horns protruded from her shoulder, spanning on either side of her face and protruding a little bit out. Like a reverse-halo, a small black semi-circle, set with glowing rubies, floated above her head. Floating in front of this semi-circle was a glowing ruby in the form of an arrowhead. Within this semi-circle was yet another ruby. Her visage was emotionless, cold, and beautiful. High cheek bones, regal features matching her human forms. The only difference was that her lips were more full, colorless, and her eyes were crimson in color. Cloth tore itself from her, now five foot seven, body as onyx-like material covered her. It spanned the top half of her rib cage, covering the outside slopes of her breasts, including the nipples, and also formed around her upper arms. The material covering her breasts seemed to span to her back, a pair of massive bat-like wings growing from the armor. The wings were folded due to the lack of space, but one could guess that the wing span was nearly two meters. Like the bikini the jeans were destroyed, in their place was a skimpy piece of cloth that covered her hips, vagina, and butt crack, but not much more. Flowing from the back of this cloth came a small cape-like length of material which whipped around her, the force of her appearance creating a small tunnel of wind which swirled around her. Covering her legs, from halfway up her thigh down to her toes, was that same ebony rock-like material. Though the material looked like rock, and was hard as rock on the outside, it was like she was naked to her, not restricting movement at all. She smiled, a door to the alleyway opening.
A young man stumbled through, obviously drunk. He was fair skinned, with blond hair and green eyes. The suit coat he had been wearing was hanging from his right arm, nearly torn off; presumably by a stripper, his shirt dishevelled and his tie falling off. The drunk man release a load of vomit before looking up at her, as if seeing light for the first time. Drool hung from his pathetic face as he stepped toward her, overpowered by her natural ability to turn any man into a willing sex slave. He neared her, but she wouldn't have it. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the throwing daggers which she kept hidden in human form appeared in her hand. She threw the dagger, grazing his neck. Suddenly, he grasped at it, screaming with agony. The blade had barely drawn blood, but its affect would prove more devastating than any laceration. She smiled, throwing another two, which would graze his arms. Two more and his legs would feel the same insane suffering that his neck was experiencing. As he screamed like you wouldn't believe, she collected the knives, causing them to disappear in a puff of smoke-like shadows. Suddenly, her bare, stony-grey hand reached out and grasped him by his neck. She pulled him closer, lifting him into the air. At this point the pain was so unbelievable that he couldn't even cry out. A look of fury crossed her face for a moment, before smoothing back out into its emotionless visage.
"Well, aren't you useless." She growled to the pathetic man, before clenching her fingers around his throat. Blood scattered across the alley walls, and the chest of Albatross. She dropped the corpse, reaching down to her chest where she would wipe off his blood with one finger. Putting that finger in her mouth, she licked her finger clean, taking in the delicious taste of blood once more. "It's been too long." She giggled to herself, before turning to see what other fun she could have.
