Announcements: Initiative: Promoting Forum Roleplay » Universe of the Month! » Finding Universes to Join (and making yours more visible!) » Guide To Universes On RPG » Starter Locations & Prompts for Newcomers » RPG Chat — the official app » USERNAME CHANGES » Suggestions & Requests: THE MASTER THREAD »

Latest Discussions: Empty Skies » Does Mind Affect the World? » I have an announcement. » Iskjerne Ballad by dealing_with_it » Viking Music / Norse Songs - Germanic Paganism » Capitalism » Panspermia: a Case for Cordyceps » The Ethics on owning a Housepet » I just really had to share this plot idea. » Materialism » Satire & Comedy » Platonic numbers » No complaints (a little bit of rappin) » Any multi-player roleplay videogamers here? » Needing a woman's perspective on a concept » Gluts and Gaps » Universal Basic Income » Impending Pursuit Q&A » Eudaimonia » Loot! »

Players Wanted: Long term partner to play an older male wanted » DEAD! » Looking for new RP Buddy(s)! » Sands of Oblivion » Looking for Role Players to join an active universe » Looking for Empire of Cendalia Players » Seeking Roleplayers for The Isekai Wonderland Project » Hadean The Brave - Fresh Blood » Just a trophy of status - long term, story focus! » Kingdom come looking for roleplayers » The Last Dragon! » Roleplay Return for 1 x 1 » Players wanted for a science fiction adventure. » Players needed for Fantasy Romance reboot » One(1) male & Two(2) Female Roles OPEN <3 » Talmora: Kingdom of magic » Looking For A New Partner » Hellboy characters » 18+ Writing Partner [Fantasy, Romance, Etc.] » 18+, Multi-Para to Novella Writers please! »

0
followers
follow

Edmund Markus Bales

I am not a wolf in sheep's clothing, I'm a wolf in wolf's clothing.

0 · 788 views · located in Cherry Blossom, Washington

a character in “Cherry Blossom's War -Reboot-”, as played by listentothetimpani

Description

Edmund Markus Bales
::...Image...::...Image...::...Image...::

Image

NICKNAME(S)
Since a young pup in the pack, and attempting to fit amongst the humans as well as any young werewolf could in the public school system, Edmund has always been called by his middle-name, Markus. And not because of a general distaste in his first name, of which he does hold a certain lack of affection for it, but more along the lines that really no one really realized 'Edmund' was his first name - he's known and introduced as 'Markus'. Other nickname(s) usually revolve around some variation of 'Markus' from then on. But friendly play-fighting days amongst the the newly turned sixteen year-olds often had 'Fur-face' and 'Wolf-breath' being tossed at one another, and one of his fondest - 'Fluff-but'.

AGE
25 years old.

GENDER
Male.

SPECIES
PURE Werewolf

PLACE OF BIRTH
Cherry Blossom, Washington, USA

SEXUAL ORIENTATION
Heterosexual

RANK
Gamma - Regular pack-mate; Guardian / Protector, Tracker, Patrol and messenger. Beta of the 2nd Pack, under Willow Octavia Sanders.

OCCUPATION
Daycare Center, Preschool Instructor

MATE
Lillian Smith, or so Markus thought back before the split, but now he isn't so sure: Different packs, the betrayal felt, and old, well-buried feelings raising new, ugly, negative heads instead... He is technically now "Open", but is not actively searching or wanting one right now.


Image

ABILITIES

Markus can shape shift into his wolf form and out of his human form at will, and vice versa. It has taken him time, however, to master this without the full moon's forcing, and the embarrassment on his record of having been stuck a furry issue for almost nearly a year when he was first turned at sixteen years old was a strong motivation tool; but he can do it now without so much as a hitch, and wears either form with controlled easiness.

Where other wolves were fast and quick, he is fast and quick but is graceful and elegant in turn. He knows exactly how to shove his weight around during a fight, and makes it seem effortless with his careful use of brute strength. However, ask him to compete in a full out sprint with other wolves of his age group, it'd take him longer to get his limbs underneath him in a proper rhythm and be working up to a decent speed while the others would be waiting for him to catch up at the finish line ahead already, but the stamina he has in the long run can be a terrific assest.










WEAKNESSES
* Swift to anger.
* Stubbornly proud.
* Lactose Intolerant.
* Likes to cook, but isn't very good at it.
* Children and laughter will be the end of him one day, of this he's quite certain.
* Struggles recognizing others, and his own to an extent, emotions. Tricky bastards.
* Quick to judge, internally and externally, and very little but a direct order will cause him to sway his original opinion.



Image
Image


Markus is a young man that has come into his full adult strength, tall and strong. He has a solid jaw, a nose that had been broken on several occasions, wolfishly intelligent dark eyes, sharp, pointed features, and a lean, but mean, and well-muscled frame. He will never be thought of as beautiful, his features are rugged and tough and have an appeal of their own. He has a dark unruly mop of black-brown hair atop his head, and likes to keep it short, neat, and well-groomed; and is at the barber at least once a month, because he cannot stand the weird things it's liable to do when given more length, waves are one thing but curls is another realm entirely. Numerous scars slash across his frame like horrible decorations, each with their own stories (and he knows them all). Most of the silvery, fine slashes covering his arms and chest, are little more than the marks of a growing up child, however, clearly a little more rambunctious than most. Heavier marks, like teeth punctures and deep clawed swipes, are likely remnants of pack-life and his training. Some he's even had made into inked decorations on his arms and shoulders, partially to hide them and honestly just because he could (artistic license, perhaps?).


In wolf form, Markus is a gaunt, dark wolf, and is nearly as large as those of strictly Alpha bloodlines. He has clean proportions and a narrow muzzle. His eye shade becomes slightly lighter in this form, but still shines the same harsh, vicious intelligence as before. His fur is colored the same coal black-brown shade as his human form's hair, but has lighter golden honey and silvery gray slivers scattered throughout. It is of a wiry length and heavy coarseness regardless of the time of year, and is constantly bothered by random cowlick or wave or curl keeping it from falling properly along his frame.
Image
Image

I saw a werewolf drinking a pina colada at Trader Vic's;
His hair was perfect.


Markus is often described as a cold, quiet, and serious, individual. He has compassion, but a ruthlessness in turn. He doesn’t wish to cause harm to anyone, and always wishes for events to be resolved without violence; and yet when confronted with the choice he knows what he has to do, and will not lose any sleep over it either honestly - as he knows how to move on and continue to survive. He has a certain lack of patience bound within a highly intelligent mindset. He doesn't mean to come off as rude, but he's very much a no-nonsense sort of person and will not be putting up with explaining things to "stupid" people. This leads him to a near constant state of exasperation amongst his peers and silent eye-rolls. He is extremely quick to judge, internally and externally, always looking for the best - and unfortunately, to his distaste, always finding the worse to take note of. Markus knows his flaws, but cannot change the force of habit that he has done it all to himself without a doubt. Yet, he represents the best that a human being (or werewolf) can be, given context. He doesn’t desire control, and when he has it, he wishes only to avoid the abuses that he sees others commit with it. Understands manipulation and knows it is necessary. He has learned that in life we are sometimes forced to play games that we would rather not play, and that sometimes winning must be second to nothing else. And still, he manages to retain his humanity and hopefully his compassion wins out in the end. But despite his flaws, Markus has a nothing to lose, and everything to gain, sort of attitude. An asset to his pack for many moons to come...

Image
...:Likes:...

* Chess.
* History.
* Fighting.
* Cooking.
* Intelligence.
* Tactician / War Games.
* Children, fluffy and human.
* Order, Responsibility, and Power.










...:Dislikes:...

* Elderly, or anyone else particularly weak and sickly.
* Heights.
* Spiders.
* Running.
* "Stupid" people.
* Milk, Cheese, the works.
* The past, and future; he likes to focus on the present.










...:Fears:...

* Has an irrational fear of mechanically inclined vehicles, and will not travel in cars, ride a motorcycle, or fly in a plane. While get to where he needs to go by two or four feet, or by the bicycle he's recently acquired.
* Equally frightened of heights and spiders. He in general prefers not to go any more than ten feet off the ground at any given time, and the bloody bugs have way too many legs period.
* Markus isn't afraid of being killed, or dying, but is secretly afraid of what comes after. With all that he has done, been a part of, etc; what will happen to him?





Image
Image

"My parents raised me up in the passive-aggressive culture of pack-life, with a lot of sarcasm and righteousness. That went with my weird messianic complex rather well. The ego I gained is a fascinating monster. I was taught from a young age that I had to serve, so that turned into me thinking I had to save the planet. And when I completed a job, no matter how gruesome and/or against my basic morals, I felt good."

Nicholas and Jaina Bales have been with the pack many years, and have the roots of either of their bloodlines deeply embedded a multitude of generations back (and perhaps even to the original werewolf that started the pack). A successful hunter and wily guardian in their own rights, it was long over-due occasion but they finally welcomed a new pup into the pack on a breezy, chipper-day in late October, and named him Edmund Markus Bales. Markus was born into a happy family, and had all the attention and needed love to from his two elderly werewolf parents upon their retirement of their jobs within the pack and surrounding community. Pack-life was essential from the get-go and it was no surprise his change happened earlier than most. And with it came responsibilities and duty of becoming apart of the pack, he trained with an almost mindless devotion to become a Guardian. He is still on good terms with his parents, and never particularly had the annoying urges of most teenagers to rebel against them; he respects and loves them both dearly. But with the growing distinct age gap between the, he often fears coming home to the quaint cottage on the outskirts of town where the three of them live together and finding them having fallen alseep for good. Even then, he protects them and takes care of them with the money he gains from his job at the Daycare center, and keeps them up to date with what happens on in the pack.


So begins...

Edmund Markus Bales's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Willow Octavia Sanders Character Portrait: Robin Sykes Character Portrait: Nathaniel Searus Character Portrait: Charles A. Greyson Character Portrait: Ronan Matthews Character Portrait: Edmund Markus Bales Character Portrait: Lucian Tchaikova Character Portrait: Julie Sinclair Character Portrait: Daniel Warren Character Portrait: Rafael Lopez Character Portrait: Nadine Dubois Character Portrait: Brooklyn Simmons. Character Portrait: Lillian Smith Character Portrait: Vivian Greenwood Character Portrait: Elisabeth Hill Character Portrait: Serena Roberge Character Portrait: Gerald Andrews Character Portrait: Levi Winters Character Portrait: Maxine "Max" Alexander Character Portrait: Roman Kingsley
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Image
Lilly Smith

The moon was just coming up, you couldn't see it just yet but Lilly could feel it. It wasn't quite a full moon but it was close. She spent all day training, she didn't want to be bothered today. For her it was the anniversary of her brothers never speaking to her kindly again. For other werewolves it was the same, families broken to shreds, friendships shattered. For the vampires it was a semi-glorious day, with the packs on the cusp of war they had opportunities to invade the town. For the humans it was just another day.

Taking a break from her running she sat at the edge of a small creek and watched the fish swim by. She let her mind go blank, something she never does. It was nice to have a few minutes without a care int he world. Lucky fish. You only have to worry about not dying and reproducing With a heavy sigh she stood, whipped off her jean shorts and began running her way pack to the pack house.

Not only was this a sad day but a happy one. She had become Alpha on this day and she worked hard for it. It was a time for grief and celebration. She ran faster, her breathing not affected at all. She wasn't much for celebration but some of the pack members came up with the idea and she didn't want to be a downer. She made it to the pack house and there was music already playing. More people had shown up than she thought, she slowed to a stop and walked the rest of the way to the door. Before she could open it Hanna, an omega, opened the door with a huge smile. "The guest of honor has arrived!" the girl yelled over the music causing everyone to yell in return. She was already regretting this.




Image
Vivian Greenwood
In her usual spot, at the only diner in town. Anyone who worked there pretty much knew her, knew what she was going to order, and knew when she would come in. They pretty much knew her routine, so much so that that night her order was already at her usual table. She turned to the waitress behind the counter and smiled, "I had to make a darling couple move tables to make room for ya, sweetheart." The woman said in a southern accent. Vivian had known the woman since she arrived in town, she half expected her accent to be gone by now but she grew to enjoy it. She sat the booth and scooted close to the window so she was sitting diagonally and pulled out her book she recently bought from the bookstore.

She opened the book and took out the marker setting it on the table and began reading. She didn't bother touching her food and no one bothered asking her if she still wanted it. She would spend so long reading before she even touched her food. Once she sat there for exactly 4 hours and twenty-five minutes just reading, her food untouched, the waitresses had made a bet to see how long it would take her to even look at the food.




Image
Julie Sinclair
Julie had slept all day, something she normally does when the sun is out. Some people would just watch tv or movies but Julie doesn't even own a tv. She doesn't like the new technology being born hundreds of years ago. The only thing 'new' that she has is a cellphone but it is the most basic phone, she only got it so she could keep in touch with the others int he coven and some friends and her boss. Tonight she had to work, she was a stripper and she was the clubs most popular dancer besides the youngest girl there because some guys are perverts. Unfortunately, the sun was still up so she would still have to wait in her apartment.

Once the sun was gone she was free to roam the town, this was one of the only bad thing about being a vampire and she hated it. She got dressed and was on her way. Normally on her way to work she dressed in normal clothes jeans and t shirts but tonight she felt a little racy so instead she wore a plain black mini dress and heels. She liked to stir up trouble in town especially with the women who hated her and what she did for a living, it was her daily joy in life besides murdering witches and drinking from humans.

She got to work, late which her boss wasn't happy about but she didn't care. He didn't yell at her like he would have done with the other girl because she was not the type to take his shit plus she was popular so she got a little more leeway. She made her way to the dressing room waving hello to the bartender and a few of her work friends. The club was packed tonight which was nice for her and the girls. She liked when it was packed, about half her customers wanted private dances and that was when she would drink from them. She didn't kill them because that would give her away but some have had to go to the hospital from her drinking a little too much.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Willow Octavia Sanders Character Portrait: Robin Sykes Character Portrait: Charles A. Greyson Character Portrait: Edmund Markus Bales Character Portrait: Rafael Lopez Character Portrait: Vivian Greenwood
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

E. Markus Bales
{ Location: Daycare Center, Home || Outfit || #A65200 }

Image
A stout, older woman, was shifting through a filing cabinet with a practiced air, in the backroom of a Day-Care Center, and so busy with her work that she did not notice the steady tread of a young man entering the room and stopping short of an arm's reach behind her. He was dark of hair and eye, and his fair complexion had a healthy glow to it even in the dimmed lighting. He was quiet, purposeful, and had an unnatural stillness few his age could ever match. He had flecks of dried yellow and blue paint speckled on his fingers, and hand/finger-print's of the same colors gripped around his wrist and fore-arms, the evidence of a busy day and Markus's unworldly patience. "Ma'am," He rumbled, as gently as he could, still a line of shivers ran across the elder care-taker's shoulders and along down her spine. Markus may have felt down right apologetic of his decidedly rough voice, if his employer hadn't asked him to be up front today to collect and return the children from and to their parents - and no less than two people had complained to their significant other as they were leaving, in perfect earshot for even an ordinary mundane human to have heard, that they weren't particularly comfortable leaving their children with such a 'brute'. And while he guessed he couldn't blame them, as humans were naturally frightened (or aroused, as the case would've been in situations not concerning their children) of hybrids like him; and maybe he wasn't thrilled with adults in general, because yes... Children, fluffy or not, he could more easily adore - made of a little salt, a squeeze of lemon, a bucket of sugar, and a forgiveness for his kind (whether they knew it or not) that lasted for a time, long enough like they were on his Preschool watch, before they grew up and became like their parents eventually. Markus continued, "Last kid was out at 3:30, and everything's' been cleaned up. Can I head out for the night?" "Yes, Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow morning. Goodbye." The matron resumed her usual tact, rough but proper, as she dismissed her youthful employee - even though she was unwilling to raise her eyes from the cabinet to make sure he had heard her, all though, she needn't have bothered anyway. He took his leave after her response and picked up this week's paycheck off the counter, before departing out the door to the spare closet to grab his back-pack (mostly empty except for a lunch bag returned haphazardly within, and a set of keys for a bike lock) - heading to the bike rack to collect his ride, and headed on to the quaint little home he shared with his elderly parents on the outskirts of town… Markus started awake as his phone suddenly thrilled loudly an text alert with a muted groan, and an aching feeling that felt like he had only just closed his eyes moments ago - he'd only wanted a spare few minutes before a brief dinner and his pack-mates started meandering into his and his parents’ home in varying waves depending on when school let out, or their means of employment’s letting out, for the scheduled hunt this evening. He stretched idly to fetch the phone buried underneath a pillow, scowling at the time, which was just under a 30 minute nap, which wasn’t awful; and then at the blighted text message that had awoken him up in the first place, and blighted may have been a far kinder word than he really wanted to think about it being groggy from sleep and general exasperation with the world. The hunt wasn’t scheduled at a set-time, but more so as a general agreement of getting there around the settling of dusk to dark, it wasn’t that hard, honestly. He snarled under-breath to himself, but forced a terse texted reply of Yes in response to the message asking if they could start to head over now, pft. With that taken care of, Markus threw the covers, shoving himself upright, and moved towards the bathroom – knowing a hot shower would awaken him quicker, and wash off the preschooler paint markings off. And with a fresh set of clothes he was set to go down the stairs and wait for everyone’s arrival shortly.



Charles A. Greyson
{ Location: Dance Studio, Diner || Outfit || #929292 }

Image
“Alright, man, well we’ll see you next week.” “Goodbye, Thanks!” “Good luck running the joint, Adios~” Charles gave a radiant grin, shrugging as he bobbed his head friendly in farewell to the handful of his co-workers and boss that had decided that everyone would be getting the time off to go on a vacation together, to run amuck in the free time they had in the big city far outside of Cherry Blossom’s boundaries, window shopping to their hearts content, hanging around in the many hot spots that littered there, or grabbing a bite in the hundreds of restaurants and bistros dotting across the map. He’d declined on going himself on such a notion of careless frivolity, of just doing water, consequences be dammed; and had simply offered to stay behind, and take on the few more classes of various dance and yoga to cover the slack, and keep patrons happy, while everyone else was gone for the week for the unplanned, spur-of-the-moment vacation. Really, truth be told, Charles tended to avoid such events, even when invited out or under extreme duress from his few friends. Well, that might have been a bit of an exaggeration, but the point remained that he was certainly more comfortable (than even some of the born locals, given recent events) keeping his own two feet on the ground in Cherry Blossom – regardless of what he well knew went bump in the night. He much preferred that predictability here, it wasn’t quite safe, but it was, most of all, home. He blew out a contented whistle through his teeth, and with a quick glance to figure that everything was put back in its place(s) for the night, ready for the following day, and all the stray water bottles had eventually found their (a) owner(s) (or the recycling can); he headed out, setting the alarm, locked the door, and went out onto the streets of Cherry Blossom. It was not much of a walk from the studio to the diner in which his mother and Aunt worked at (though this night, they were actually both off in fact – but with a known sweet tooth, and the habit of a chocolate shake after work ingrained in his mind, he was headed that direction anyway), but with the sky stretching with the colors of the sunset his footsteps weren’t unhurried per say but simply purposeful in their movement. When he finally arrived, he caught the waitress’ eye, with a small grin, Regular, please. “Sure, just a minute.” No worries. Instead of sitting at the bar or at one of the open tables, Charles caught the familiar sight of Vivian, surprisingly without the shadow of another coven member or one of her human friends yet. Hey, Vivian, Charles greeted, as he made his way over and slipped down into the booth’s other seat, with one of his common bright grins (that probably said ‘Hello’ better than words did anyhow) lighting up his face. How’s your newest addiction going? He hummed in friendly question, not disapproving but not approving either. With a small hand flick, gesturing seemingly to the ‘new’ book she held that she was reading and/or towards her forgotten food upon the plates in front of her with a raised eyebrow.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Willow Octavia Sanders Character Portrait: Ronan Matthews Character Portrait: Edmund Markus Bales Character Portrait: Lucian Tchaikova Character Portrait: Daniel Warren
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by mjolnir
00
W I L L O W00S A N D E R S


Image

# A 6 0 4 3 9 x// xo u t f i t
00

00
L U C I A N00T C H A I K O V A


Image

# 6 7 8 7 7 3 x// xo u t f i t

Willow groaned as she slowly woke up in her tiny studio apartment. Very glamorous for a pack Alpha. But it keeps her more under the radar than living in a fancy house in a small town like Cherry Blossom. Plus, she was rarely in it other than sleeping or showering, and that's if she slept alone. She rolled over in the plush bed, holding the fleece blanket up to her face as she squinted. She looked at the clock. 6:23pm. Damn, over slept. She always slept during the day. She tended to feel more alive at night. Plus vampires can't be out in the sunlight so she always figured it'd be best if she slept when the sun was out and was awake while those blood suckers were awake.

Will didn't want to get out of bed if she didn't have to. So she grabbed her cellphone and the first thing she did before checking messages or missed calls was see what time sunset was at... 8:47pm. So she could technically go back to sleep but after flipping through her texts she wouldn't. She cursed under breath remembering the unofficial meeting. She groaned as she buried her face in a pillow. Today was the anniversary of everything and she wanted nothing more to stay inside. But she also knew that on this day the others wolves would be slacking and it was up to them to pick up the slack on the vamp slayage.

After laying around lazily in bed for about another 20 minutes, playing stupid games on her phone, Will finally dragged herself out of bed and into the shower. She spent at least a good half and hour in the warm water trying to wake herself up and prepare for another night. If Will was never practical. Even though they were hunting, she still felt the need to hunt for other things as well. That was her style. Will tore through half of her closet before she found an good enough outfit. It probably took her double the time it took to get an outfit, to do her hair and makeup. After all, she never knew who she could run into out and about. Always had to look her best.

Willow headed out of her tiny apartment and down the stairs to where she parked her motorcycle. She pursed her lips contemplating if she should just walk. After all, she wasn't particularly dressed to be straddling a machine. But she also was wearing even less appropriate foot wear. So, she threw a leg over the bike, gave the engine a couple revs and was off.

When she reached Markus' house, Willow parked her bike in the drive way before heading up the porch. She didn't bother knocking because she honestly spent more time in his house than her own. Will smiled towards him as she entered. She took a seat next to him, crossing her legs. "How's my favorite person doing? Ready for some action?" Will then held up her hands teasingly, "Calm down, not that kind of action."

***

Lucian spent the majority of his day like he spent every other day, locked in the basement. He sometimes hated how much he was a cliche when it came to vampirism. Whenever there was daylight, he was reading by the fireplace. Surprisingly for his numerous years of life, he still finds new books that he hasn't yet read. Of course, the classic have been all consumed. And Lucian used Twilight as fire tinder before getting through the first chapter.

He glanced down at his watch habitually until it was officially sunset. As if clockwork, he finished that day's read on the dot. Lucian got up and placed the book in it's home on the newest bookshelf added to his own library. His home was basically just a quaint museum filled to the bursting point with books in every language that range back to before he even graced the earth. It was a hobby to keep him going. A vampire's life always seemed to crawl past and also go unbelievably fast in the same breath. But either way it was never easy alone. Sure he had his coven... But that's far from a partner or lover. He didn't even remember what love was and often times he felt like it was a myth much like himself.

With a sigh he decided to shower and shave like he did every day at dusk. After getting dressed, Lucian headed out of his house. With no destination or plan in mind, he slid his hands in the pockets of his trousers and strolled the streets. For such a small town, it always surprised him how Cherry Blossom never seemed to sleep. A suburban New York. It was good for his kind, low key. One of the many reasons he decided to take up residence here every 50 years or so.

It seemed everywhere he walked, Lucian could feel the gazes on him. But he paid them no mind. After all, what could these petty blood bags do to him? Blink in his direction? Pathetic. In the centuries he's been on this hopeless planet, he's realized the growing weakness of the humans. They become more and more accepting. They in turn become scared little mice at rumors instead of acting on them. 300 years ago he would have been lynched, chased out of the village by an angry mob or beheaded and burned. Now all he has to fear is a whisper and stink eye. So terrifying.

Through his mindless walk, he ended up somewhere he happened to regular quite often. The bookstore. Lucian pushed open the door and stepped in. His gaze shifted towards the two, barely men, that were the only occupants in the store. He scanned the store briefly then looked back towards them again. "Anything new since last time I was in?" He walked up to a best sellers aisle. Read it. Read it. Horrible. Tolerable. Not even literature." He scoffed when he saw Twilight and 50 shades of shit on the shelves. "Of substance... Not... Whatever that is." He waved his hand dismissively at the shitty romance novels of the decade.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Willow Octavia Sanders Character Portrait: Robin Sykes Character Portrait: Edmund Markus Bales Character Portrait: Rafael Lopez
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

E. Markus Bales
{ Location: Home || Outfit || #A65200 }
Image

While I can merit an agreement that your earlier accusation, James, that shifting quickly between forms is a tedious and at times painful process, however, the benefits of having such control outweigh any of the costs – for your own good, and for the good of the pack as a whole. Markus finished shortly, not necessarily rude but not lacking (nor attempting to hide for that matter) his general exasperation with the world – let alone a trio of new puppies within the pack, sixteen years old (only ten years younger than himself) and so sure of their own invincibility, that he merited it okay to bleed that vanity from time to time to make them wolves eventually worthy of the pack. The chastised male ducked his head, pinning his ears to his head but wise to keep any returned commentary internal instead of allowing a disgruntled growl out. Huh, well, they were learning something one way or another. Technically, you’ve all improved, but it’s disappointing that your lacking centers between wolf and human still, He paused as a hollow, coughing roar of a motorcycle pulling up into the drive echoed through the front parlor and living room of his home. It was a surprise, if welcomed because he wouldn’t be expected to continue with this lesson any further, that Willow was remarkably early instead of falling to her fashionably late tendencies. Markus wouldn’t complain. He continued, as the cycle was turned off into silence, waving his hand dismissively, Find your centers soon, yes? Now, head out to the back yard with the others. There was a flash of challenge in the eye of the red-brown, built as thin a whipcord, female wolf lurched forward and shifted back to human admirably faster than previously, before standing, having finally defeated the modest that never survived long in a werewolf pack, scooped up her clothes and headed out shortly; the two gray males blinked in surprise, looking at each other and then too Markus who only offered them the wrinkles of a beginning snarl showing his teeth (flat as human, but unable to mistake the idle threat they presented, nor the wisps of a tolerant pride for the female before them), they followed her out the door shortly after. At that moment, Markus attention was taken towards Willow as she slipped into the home without a knock and plopped herself unto the couch directly beside him. How’s my favorite person doing? Ready for some action? He let a soft warning growl, and Will held up her hands in teasing surrender, Calm down, not that kind of action. Markus scoffed lightly, a small snort of reluctant amusement. Even if he wasn’t remotely ready for that kind of action, let alone willing; Will was already ready for such a ‘hunt’, especially given her state of dress (it wasn’t quite undress yet, but damn close), having driven here on her motorcycle no less. Tolerant of the latest puppy-sitting, but well enough. You? He mused evenly, unhurried. Though he would much rather have the rest of their pack hierarchy here so that planning could be finalized (though Will had never led them astray, and always listened to his suggestion no matter how often they butted heads; so it should not take very long), and the evening / night hunt too thus begin; versus small talk or it’s related ilk.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Willow Octavia Sanders Character Portrait: Ronan Matthews Character Portrait: Edmund Markus Bales Character Portrait: Lucian Tchaikova Character Portrait: Julie Sinclair Character Portrait: Daniel Warren Character Portrait: Levi Winters
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by mjolnir
00
W I L L O W00S A N D E R S


Image

# A 6 0 4 3 9 x// xo u t f i t
00

00
L U C I A N00T C H A I K O V A


Image

# 6 7 8 7 7 3 x// xo u t f i t

Markus growled at her flirtatious and apparently unwanted greeting. Nothing new in Willow’s opinion. It was always hot and cold between them, and there was nothing she enjoyed more than ruffling some feathers… er, fur. Markus knew it was all in good fun and just the way she was. The one thing Will never did, was pretend to be anything other than herself.

“Tolerant of the latest puppy-sitting, but well enough. You?”

Will chuckled slightly, crossing her legs. “I’m itching to get out… Where is everyone? I never get her before the rest of the pack.” She sighed. She then sat upright, resting her elbows on her knees. She leaned closer to markus, speaking in a hushed tone. “I smelled new blood today… Not coldies, but wolf.”

Willow was restless moving from sitting up, to leaning back, crossing and uncrossing her legs. Eventually she shot up and looked down at Markus. “Ok, well I can’t sit around like this. Makes me stir crazy. I’m going to go prowl, maybe hunt down this new blood.”

She always had her phone on her, so it wasn’t like it’d be difficult for anyone else in the pack to find her or sniff her out. Willow headed towards the door, opening it but stopping in the doorway. She rested her right hand against the door frame, glancing over her shoulder at him. “Oh, come on. You know you’re as tired of being cooped up in here as I am.” She didn’t wait for him to stand up or reply. Markus was his own person, and she wouldn’t force him to go walking around the small and boring town of Cherry Blossom. She figured if he wanted to join, he’d be on her heels in no time.

Will strutted down the sidewalk. The sideways glances from those she passed always made her laugh. She wondered what the rumors were. She had heard on more than one occasion that everyone thought she had a more vampiric “air” about her rather than wolf. If anything, she just played it up. Of course, her scent would give it away but it’s easier to get behind enemy lines when you at least look the part.

When she turned the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks. A breeze blew in her direction, sending a scent from someone ahead of her right at her. That was the smell, the new blood. It was a wolf, no doubt. But the scent was unlike others, it was musky but in a delightful and warming sort of way. Her gaze scanned the approaching people as her pace quickened, pushing her way past people. No. No. Hell no. Is that person even human? And then she stopped.

A dozen or so feet ahead of her a male approached, the scent only growing stronger. Everything about him was triggering her primal instincts. His scent, his appearance… It called to her. He was handsome, in a surreal sort of way. His dark hair was curly and unruly, but perfect for his face. His 5 o’clock shadow only seemed to add to his rugged appeal. And as if to make matters worse, he dressed like a bad boy too.

Willow hadn’t noticed she was still moving towards him, until she stopped maybe a foot in front of him. “You…” She pointed her index finger at him, in sort of a dazed trance. After a moment or two, she blinked her eyes rapidly, before brushing her blonde waves from her face. “You’re new… You’re scent… I’ve never smelled anything like it. It’s… intoxicating, Will sounded blind sided and like an idiot. She cleared her throat, and extended her right hand towards him. “I’m Willow… Willow Sanders. But you may call me whatever you’d like.”

***

“Nothing that you’d like in particular Mr. Tchaikova. We did get Harper Lee’s new novel in a couple days ago, I can go get it from the back if you’d like me to. We weren’t going to put it on the shelves till next week, but let’s just say a favor for a frequent customer.”

Lucian gave a cold chuckle, rolling his eyes at the smile that obviously was not the most sincere. But, whomever gave him a true smile? No one. “Harper Lee is overrated. To Kill a Mockingbird is barely a decent piece of literature. Reviews say that this new book is a sad excuse for a sequel.”

He paced around the store, his hands cupped behind his back as he scanned the shelves. Nothing new. Nearly everything he’s read. He stopped before the theology section. Religions always interested him. People’s meanings they put behind the world… Gods, the force or whatever else. They all believed there is meaning behind everything, that everything happened for a reason.

Lucian was about to leave when a book on witchcraft in the 21st century caught his attention. He had heard the rumors of witches in the area. If they were true or not, he did not know. But something like this could potentially prove helpful or interesting.

He grabbed the book and walked over to the counter. He set it down, before reaching into his back pocket, pulling out his platinum credit card. When Lucian’s gaze met Ronan’s, he attempted his best shot at a joking tone. “Looks more interesting than Twilight.”

After paying, Lucian headed out of the book store. He wasn’t even down the steps when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He growled. Lucian hated cellphones and most modern technology. It made everyone become so impersonal. When he saw Julie’s name on the screen, he sighed and brought his phone to his ear. “Please tell me you’re not getting in trouble already. The night has barely begun.”