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Jamie Delmont Southside

"Ya ever get that feeling you've ever done this before?"

0 · 223 views · located in New York

a character in “Bonded Through Time”, as played by Derek Smith


Name: Jamie Delmont Southside


Nickname: In the vicious and unforgiving street fighting circles Jamie earned the nickname Berserker for his unthinking and brutal fighting style.
Age: 23
God: Ares
Aura of the Determined- Most living beings are unworthy of the life given them. Jamie on the other hand overcame every obstacle thrown his way. As a result no matter how badly wounded the warrior becomes the man can fight with the same vicious brutality and rage he began the fight in. Victory or Death is all Jamie has ever asked of life.

The Art of War- There isn't a thing about warfare you can teach to this brawler from the cold streets. . From the martial arts to artlliery counter battery he knows it all and could write a book that would teach Patton a thing or two.

Physically Superior- Jamie is simply put a monster. At 213 cm tall and weighing in at 170 kgs he is simply faster and stronger then just about everyone out there. His reflexes border on impossibly quick and he set the record for long distance running so high that no one has bothered to challenge it in years.
Aura of Over Confidence- Jamie is to put it midly full of himself. This manifest as the instant dislike nearly everyone has of him. Being near this chosen of Ares makes the average person blood boil.

Glory Chaser- More then once Jamie has nearly been sent to the realm of Hades because of his innate desire to lead the charge. If there is a good fight within a kilometre of him you can guarantee Jamie is risking his neck trying to win it.

Unsubtle- Though capable of out thinking anyone on a field of war Jamie understands nothing of daliy life nor political matters. Nor does the Berserker show the least desire to. This has bitten him in the ass more then once.
Sexuality: Bisexual
Appearance: Jamie is perhaps the most physically imposing person you'd ever meet. Towering over most at 213 cm tall and packed with 170 kgs worth of muscle he is covered in scars from head to foot. These twisted and white strands of tissue stand in mute testimony to the violence in his dark silver eyes. Those orbs of fury stand out in that harsh and angular face like a naked blade or a loaded gun would. His shaven head only adds to the harshness of his features.

But without a doubt it's the tattoos inked around the scars that mark him out. The crest of the Southside Demons MC is splashed across his back in its gory reds and blacks. The grinning deaths head holding the heads of various kills the MC has made. The other tattoos represent the events Jamie thought worth inscribing into his skin. Pride of place is a blonde headed child embracing a leather clad grey haired man the background a snow covered street inked above his heart.

The Southside Demons MC
Loud Parties

Those who stand idly in times of war
Those who don't fight tooth and claw for every breath
Sponge Cake
Political B.S

Becoming a coward
The price his power will come with
Not living up to the expectations of Ares

Personality: Jamie is the sort of person who'd quite happily hunt a fly with a bazooka if that's what it'd take. Never one to pause in paying the ultimate price the Berserker cares only about the victory. For he has never given up once in his life and expects the same of everyone else. Indeed Jamie lives life with an almost suicidal zeal caring only about victory.

And in his mind victory isn't about the defeat of the enemy. It's about living up to the courage and will the gods have given humanity. That if one can smile in Hades face then you've lived life well. To go out swinging is all Jamie has asked out of life.

But at the same time he is terrified that his strength and courage might meet its match one of these days. This is perhaps arguably the source of his suicidal courage in the face of all odds. This is a truth that the Berserker has deeply surpressed. Any that try and probe its depths will not live long.

History: Jamie grew up for the first four years of his life in an orphanage. Its white washed walls and cheerless aura the defining aspects of his infancy. The same tasteless slop three times a day and play time with the other hopeless children. Even the staff seemed grey and worn. It was in this first taste of life the future Berserker learned he wanted more.

But his childish mind couldn't even begin to fathom the plan of action required. He didn't even know what more was let alone how to get it. But as a baby learns to crawl then walk Jamie learned that struggle earned him more. In this the infant soon adopted the attitude that would become his defining trait.

Then came the day of his fifth birthday and the day his childhood education ended. Ares offered him the strength to never be beholden to any but himself. To face the storms of fate with sword and shield at his side and nothing more. Jamie accepted knowing even then nothing came free..

The next day the orphanage burned down and the chosen of Ares was the only one left alive. Dancing in the ashes he left the old shell of his life behind. Though life for a five year old on the streets was unforgiving Jamie somehow always pulled through. With animal cunning and perhaps divine luck he always found food and shelter. Clothes were always on his back, if not always clean at least whole. He lived like this for five more years.

The night of his tenth birthday proved a bad one. It had been nearly three days since he had eaten and his clothes were falling apart. The cold snow dusted his deadlocked blonde hair and he was seriously doubting he'd live to see the morning. But true to his bargain with Ares Jamie cried not once for help.

Some pleas unspoken though they may be are heard. Daniel Southside president of the Southside Demons MC saw the child on his way back from the bar. Stopping his Harley fatboy the hardened killer took one look at Jamie and offered the child a home. From this one event Jamie learned true thankfulness. Perhaps the only time an emotion other then rage or determined courage crossed his face.

Life with the Southside Demons MC was anything but gentle. But the rivers of blood were the ink Jamie would gladly write his life story with. Anything was better then starving on a cold street.
Daniel Southside- President of the Southside Demons this man has been the father figure of Jamie's life. A hardened killer and man who cared about his brothers in arms he taught Jamie the duties of a Southside Demon. He died on the first of December on Jamie's 21st birthday. He died a warrior's death defending his MC from a rivial MC. Three Thousand people turned out for his funeral. This was the only time Jamie would ever cry.

Sean Southside- The son of Daniel he and Jamie grew up as brothers in all but blood. He is now the President of the MC with Jamie as Vice President.

Gregory Timor- The Sergeant at Arms of the MC he was the uncle figure in Jamie's life. The only human alive who can come close to matching Jamie's strength.

So begins...

Jamie Delmont Southside's Story


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Character Portrait: Meredith Mackenzie Character Portrait: Jamie Delmont Southside
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When Meredith leaned into him Jamie felt a brief sensation as if she had always been there, against him. Her touch felt as familiar as his own heart beat. Which was odd given not twenty four hours earlier they hadn't even known each others name let alone become familiar to such a degree. Shaking it off as simply a by-product of their gods forged bond the outlaw biker smiled back after she had finished the emotional purging of whatever thoughts her sleep had brought.

" Trust me lady five grand would be a small price if it bought me a couple of hours alone with ya." Jamie replied with a wicked smile and what could only be interpreted as a lascivious smile as Meredith commented on the fact her brother might need such an amount to give them the alone time they both obviously wanted. Jamie would in fact offer such a sum if only because the outlaw life was a profitable one, the Southside Demons had their hand in a lot of pies after all. Gun running, shares in Private Military Companies, even a large part of Alliant Techsystems. So money to him was something he'd never worried about, easy come, easy go as they say. Plus after looking around at the part of town they were in Jamie had no doubt a little cash wouldn't hurt.

Such thoughts were for a later time though and he followed the woman whom he'd had the luck to be tied to...At that thought came the feeling of the familiar again. Images of a blossom strewn forest and a woman who bore a exact resemblance to Meredith flashed before his eyes. Furthermore she was dressed in what could only be qipao, a item of clothing he'd certainly never seen Meredith in. But the feeling of joy and familiarity as she walked in front him, mischievous grin written large on her face was impossible to deny. Once more he shook the feeling out, thinking the short sleep of the night was beginning to affect him. It was a tough sell with his rational mind, he'd gone days without sleep in the desert and suffered no ill effects other then a caffeine addiction.

He raised an eyebrow though at the sheer amount food he saw upon the breakfast table though as the walked into the kitchen. And at the way she offered him a seat which he took. He really looked somewhat shocked at the speed at which the chosen of Apollo was making the food disappear. True he himself went through the groceries at an alarming rate but then again he was usually three times bigger then most people out there. Shrugging he himself tucked in with gusto after helping himself to a cup of coffee. Despite being engrossed in his food the former Abram gunner still didn't miss the glances his bonded threw between him and her brother. Jamie considered Ash and stuck by his former opinion on the fact he was a kid. The soldier in him could not forgive a man who wasn't capable of protecting those he loved for if he couldn't protect himself he wasn't fit to protect anyone.

He then considered Ash's place in Meredith's life compared to his. Jamie then realized whatever his opinion on the man he'd have to make peace for the sake of tranquillity. He wasn't going away, the gods saw to that and Ash being her brother meant he wasn't either. So when the chosen of Dawn made her less then subtle desire for privacy known the Vice President of the SouthSide Demons dug out his wallet and pulled out the cash within. Sliding all five thousand of it over the table towards Ash he spoke up.

" Buy yourself something nice kid, maybe a vest. I know a guy who'll sell you military grade armour if you'd like."


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Character Portrait: Meredith Mackenzie Character Portrait: Jamie Delmont Southside
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#, as written by Belynta
Meredith stared at the wad of cash, that Jamie casually put on the table, as though it was going to suddenly sprout legs and walk. She had never seen so much money in one place like that and it hit home then that her bonded clearly had a lot of money if he was happy to throw such money around. Money had never been something she had had a lot of and so she had so she had taught herself that money didn't matter. But that did not stop her wondering what it would be like not to worry about money and to choose where you lived and what you bought on preference rather than what you could afford.

Her brother wore an identical expression of awe, shock and disbelief and his eyes were so wide Meredith thought they might pop right out of his head. She would have laughed if she hadn't been equally as shocked, and also touched by the gesture as Jamie was clearly trying to get along with her brother for her sake. She thought the amount of money he offered, or that he offered money at all, was a little over the top but she was touched by the gesture. Ash reached out a hand and touched the money with a finger, as though doubting it was real, and stared at Jamie.

"I can't take this. It's too much." He said.

Meredith was inclined to agree but then she realised that to Jamie the amount was not an issue and he genuinely wanted to help her brother and right now the money was the way he could do that. She reached out and pushed the money into Ash's hand, nodding slowly.

"Take it Ash, it's okay."

Ash hesitated for a few more moments before slowly curling his fingers around the money and picking it up off the table. He nodded to Jamie his eyes filled with his gratitude.

"Thank you, I know I don't deserve this after...last night but thank you." He stood. "I will pay you back, every penny. I promise."
He had a look of fierce determination on his face and Meredith believed him even if it took him the rest of his life she knew he meant it. He looked at Meredith and grinned. "I'm going to go and look at apartments, this is enough for a deposit."

She grinned back at him realising he was right, it was enough to put a deposit down on an apartment and if they were careful they could afford a higher rent. They would finally be able to live in an area where they felt safe and would not have to risk their lives every time they left their home. She finished her breakfast and then said goodbye to Ash as he left, hugging him briefly.

She then turned to Jamie and smiled, her eyes lit up with her happiness and gratitude. It never occurred to her to be suspicious of his motives, of why a almost complete stranger would held them in such a way. Perhaps with someone else she would have but for whatever strange reason she trusted him completely and had no doubt he did this to help her and for no other reason.

"So." She said mischievously. "How would like me to thank you?"

She slowly looked him up and down as she spoke, her eyes lingering and full of heat.


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Character Portrait: Meredith Mackenzie Character Portrait: Jamie Delmont Southside
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Jamie let his lips form a amused and wry grin at their reaction to his offering of the cash.If I knew they were going to be so shocked by this I might have done it sooner if only for the laughs. He thought with a small laugh at the thought. He then remembered his own days on the street when money was something he had rarely held. Those days when begging and theft were his sole source of income. When each penny meant the difference between starving and having enough food to eke out a ghost of an existence. What had happened to those days he wondered, now he considered the five grand he offered mere pocket change. His own accounts were fit to burst, he had investments in so many things it took the MC treasurer and three of his assistants to keep track of it all.

It's been a hell of a ride hasn't it skreb. Meredith's keeping it real though, reminding ya that life isn't the silver spoon ya used to now. Not that you haven't earned every red cent of your stash.

Jamie had to agree with his patron, Meredith was the living example of a life not as blessed as his had become. He did wondered at the cruelty of Apollo, why had the Sun God not lead his chosen to the same reward Ares had. He then considered his own past, the bloodshed, the scars, and the crucible of life lived on the cold and unforgiving streets. His life had been hard but he had found a family in the Southside Demons and had found the promised land of wealth and enough combat to keep his warrior's blood satisfied. His bonded seemed to have only found family in a Brother too stupid in his opinion for the right to live. But regardless the Berserker decided his was not the right to judge Meredith and Ash, her gift after all wasn't as easy to exploit as the gift Ares had given him.

Besides when the chosen of Apollo looked at him with those lingering eyes, full of heat the chosen of Ares forgot all about anything else.

" I've got an idea or three." He answered as he got up out of the chair he had been sitting in. The Vice President then bodily lifted his bonded out of hers. Supporting the to his mind non-existent weight he looked into her grey eyes with his own dark silver ones. Carrying her over to the counter he laid her in a sitting position on it. His hands thus freed he began to explore her body while slowly and thoroughly enjoying the feel of her lips against his.

The moonlight streamed into the open blackwood shutters of southern making, the silk curtains dancing in the warm breezes of summer. Silken skin moved underneath his hands and her grey eyes danced in an dance old as time. " Is that what they taught you while wearing the King's coat James." She whispered in his ear and at the same time kissing his neck. " Or when they knighted you.."

Once again another vision, at least the outlaw biker thought so. His name wasn't James nor had ever been knighted. Least to the best of his knowledge. Ignoring the sight in his mind's eye he moved his lips down to her neck, savouring each second he spent there. His hands impatient with the feel of mere cloth ripped Meredith's t-shirt off with the same ease a child might to a sheet of paper. Freed of that barrier they seemed to regain their patience, their finger seeming content to crawl their way up from her lower back to the catch on her bra.

" Here's hoping your Brother isn't about to interrupt us again."


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Character Portrait: Meredith Mackenzie Character Portrait: Jamie Delmont Southside
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#, as written by Belynta
Meredith gasped in surprise as Jamie lifted her out of her chair and carried her over to the kitchen counter, he set on the counter and moved so he stood in between her legs. His mouth found hers and she was swept up in a kiss of passion that left her breathless and wanting more. She leaned into him kissing him back as passionately as he did her, his hands moved to her shirt and in one swift motion he ripped if off her body. Somehow the violence of the movement only served to heighten her passion and she leaned into him more trying to touch as much of his body as she could. As his hands moved to the catch of her bra she slid her hands to his chest lifting his t shirt off his head exposing his broad muscled chest. She ran her hands over his bare back and wrapped her arms around his neck.

She was struck then again by the feeling that she knew him, that she had been in this exact situation with him before and yet she could not remember when. Her mind told her that it wasn't possible, that they had only met the day before yet her body insisted that it knew him. That the feel of him was as familiar as that of her own body, powerless against the feelings of lust and familiarity she trembled in his arms needing him with a desperation that seemed out of context with how long she had known him. She pulled back slightly and smiled nervously at him.

"It's been a long time since I have done this." She said. "Hopefully its like riding a bike."

She kissed him again then and pressed herself closer to him, giving herself to him, letting him know with her body and her feelings that she was letting him lead.


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Character Portrait: Meredith Mackenzie Character Portrait: Jamie Delmont Southside
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The intensity of Meredith's response was both unexpected and as familiar as the heart beating in the chest covered in the tattoos and scars that were the story of his life. Each of touch of her fingers evoking memories that had his rational mind been in charge would have alarmed him. But there was no rational thought, no logic, no reasoning with the passion running free and loose in the warriors blood that was his birthright and curse. That Berserker was as lost in the taste of the chosen of Apollo's lips and the feel of her body against his as it had been in the battles those scars spoke of. Jamie couldn't have stopped now if he wanted to, not that he wanted to in the least.

As his hands worked with Meredith's bra the chosen of Ares felt her lift his shirt and with that the patience of Jamie's lusts seemed to ramp up a notch or ten. At here words the former Abram's gunner left his lips part company with that particular bit of her neck he was kissing. Resting his forehead against hers the outlaw biker smiled , drinking in the sight of his reflection in her grey eyes.

" Well practice makes prefect as they say. We just need a lot of it is all." He replied with a voice heavy and full of the promise of what he wanted to do.

Lifting his bonded off the counter Jamie carried over to the bedroom door not stopping in the slightest in his ministrations of Meredith's body. Shifting to a one handed grip of the woman who seemed both stranger and familiar lover he opened the door to her bedroom. Closing the door with a swift backwards kick he strode his prize in hand. Lying her atop the mattress he looked over the woman who the Gods saw fit to tie him to.

" Do you James Chisholm take this woman as your lawfully wedded wife. To have and to hold in Sickness and health, for richer or poorer until death do you part?"

" I do for all of eternity itself." Was the man whom tried not to show his disappoint in the priest's fallacy in thinking death would separate him from the love whom he'd left behind the ashes of a life lived after Yorktown. Not so long ago the lack of his knighthood would have stung but the life of nobility was now behind him.

A vision that was swiftly rejected as he clambered atop Meredith. It's enigmatic appeal as the vision centred on a woman who looked like his bonded held no sway with the Southside Demon as he worked to remove the jeans that she still wore. Reaching down with his mouth he once more kissed her with a violence and desperation of a man separated from his lover for years uncounted. Every taste seemed to remind him of something Jamie had been missing for far too long. Each touch only reminded it had been too long since he had last seen her. Why that feeling of the familiar didn't bother him was a tale the scarred and tattooed street fighter had about as much interest in as the reason why the sun rose and set. It was just there it mattered little to those not interested in philosophy and reason. Logic mattered not in the face that Meredith was here and his alone at the moment.

" I should be thanking the Gods, all things aside this isn't so bad..." Jamie spoke as he tore his lips from hers. His hands done with the catch on her bra he savoured the sight of Meredith clad in only her underwear, mere fabric that wouldn't stand a chance against the blood running hot and free in his veins. Removing that final barrier between him and his desire the Vice President of the Southside Demons Motorcycle Club let his passion spend itself throughout the night.

" So Sir Chisholm I wonder if they'll hang us or shoot us after this battle." A fresh faced youngster spoke, little more then a child in uniform his shoulders bore the rank of second lieutenant. He was the favoured child of a Marquee doing his part to raise the social status of his family by becoming a war hero. Despite his age the child solider had acquitted himself well, showing a steadiness that put shame to men twice his age. The closely shorn blonde haired man the child solider spoke to felt it a shame this absolute cock up of a war would likely be the last this promising youngster would ever fight.

" You think these American dogs will spare us, you've seen what their capable of lieutenant. Savages that could teach the red skinned ones a thing or two." Was the Knight's sneering reply, a brave façade to hide the fact his own company of Dragoons was scarcely any better. There was no honour in this war, neither side held any heroes. The Americans failing to realise how much their desire for an independent state would cost the common people of England, had deep the cost in blood had already been. The King and Country he fought for failing to realise their once loyal subjects needed a semblance of pride and yes a little independence. Not the overbearing demands of a colonial power fighting a war with the world itself.

" 5th company, forward." The cry rang out over the screams of fighting men, the roar of cannon fire and muskets.

" Up and at them lads, Nemo me impune lacessit." The Knight cried as his orders rang across the battlefield. Kicking his spurs into the mount he rode the leader of the 5th Dragoons rode across the battlefield, followed by his men. The thundering of his heart drowned out the horses hooves as he cut through the enemy with sabre and pistol. The feel of that razor sharp blade cutting through human necks sickening and exhilarating at the same time. He was in his element, the flames of war were everything made sense and nothing else mattered but victory.

So much so that he rode too deep into the enemy, his Dragoons doing their best with the suddenly overwhelming odds. Coming to his senses the Knight ordered a retreat. But before the words had left his lips a cannon shot landed beside him, the shrapnel cutting down his mount and lacerating his left side. Falling to the ground he came up swinging catching a militiaman in the upper chest. Wrenching his blade free he ripped the musket out of the dying man's hands. Bringing the Kentucky long rifle to bear he emptied into an other militiaman.

" Get them out of here lieutenant." The commander of the 5th Dragoons ordered as he dodged underneath the bayonet thrust of his attackers. The fresh faced child soldier saluted with his sabre as he whirled his horse around, the 5th Dragoons, the elite vanguard of the British Army for the first time in all of recorded history retreated from an enemy force to regroup with the struggling regular infantry.

The Knight danced around the American musket fire, the thrusts of their bayonets and felt a ball tear into his flesh. Dropping to the ground the tall soldier held onto a kneeling position only by virtue of thrusting his sabre into the ground and using it as a support. Blood flowed freely down the left half of his body, his red coat splattered with the mud and blood of combat. Grabbing his third and last pistol off his belt the Dragoon emptied it into a American wearing the blue coat of a regular. His breathing a harsh uneven rhythm the thoughts that consumed him at the moment where nothing of war or the last stand that the poets seemed to love to glorify. No for him the thoughts that raced through him as he watched death come for him held only the images of a woman who he had loved in his youth when he was in King George's personal guard.

" I am not the most holy of men God but please if it be in your plan let me see her one more time, and I'll never ask anything else." The wounded Knight prayed with earnest fervour as he watched American troops stride towards him, confident in their kill their steps held no urgency. The stopped several feet away, out of reach of the sabre that kept him from collapsing on all fours. Their blue coats insultingly clean and free of the stains of combat they lined up in a firing line, their rifles bayonet's gleaming in the afternoon sun.

" There's been enough dying for one day men, lower those rifles. " A gravelly sounding voice spoke, revealed to a grey haired man who wore the rank of a Lieutenant Colonel. The knight thanked his lord and creator before blacking out.

The dreams he dreamt as he slept beside Meredith his lust utterly spent for the moment seemed both fact and fiction. Jamie couldn't tell if they were memories or visions induced by the bond. But why would the Gods care to show him the life of an eighteenth century British officer. It made no sense to this former soldier, for his military training and grasp of history revealed he was dreaming about Yorktown, the battle that gave birth to a nation. But every swing of the sword, every pull of the trigger felt like his own, as if he was simply recalling a battle once fought and lost. A feeling the chosen of Ares held very little experience in, he always won. Defeat was not part of his creed.