Description

Tall, broad-shouldered, lean but fit--he's good looking and he knows it, and can sometimes be a bit insufferable about it. He's used to getting the girls he sets his eyes on and sometimes needs to have his ego punctured a little with some good-natured jabs. Black hair and dark brown eyes. He's usually pretty swarthy from being out in the sun but will burn if he's out there too long. He's a wuss when it comes to sunburn in spite of his very high pain threshold for everything else.

Personality

When he's not hunting wolves and vamps, Mark is a drinker and occasional smoker. He loves a good drinking partner and deeply respects those who can match him ale for ale. When drunk he's more of an affectionate, honest person and very rarely gets into barroom brawls unless it's totally provoked.

He dislikes confrontation (unless they're fighting vamps or wolves, that is) so often tries to defuse tense situations with bad jokes and diplomacy. He's also remarkably lazy when not doing something that motivates him (again, fighting wolves and vamps or caring for his weapons) so if he sees a way to cheat and get around a day of hard work, he will go for it.

In spite of his general "whatever" attitude on the surface, he is fiercely loyal and protective and is often spurned into doing really stupid things if he sees someone in trouble or in danger. He largely tries to act like a useless party guy so people won't take advantage of his bleeding heart.

Equipment

+ Shotgun across his back that he whips out when needed, though it isn't his weapon of choice

+ Two pistols (one at his right hip and one in a holster under his left arm on a shoulder harness)

+ An ammo belt with silver and wooden bullets

+ A silver hunting knife strapped to his left thigh

+ A flask of something-or-other at his left hip (the contents change depending on what he feels he'll need that day)

+ Rugged outdoorsy clothing with tall, comfortable boots and light cotton clothing that breathes easily

+ He carries no personal or sentimental mementos whatsoever

History

Mark grew up on the streets, stealing and swindling people for money and food. He learned that the vamp/wolf hunting business could be extremely lucrative if done well and sought out mentorship from some of the gangs on the streets. After many years with no success he proved himself in a surprise battle and earned the respect of a few of the gang members, who taught him the ropes a few years before he went off on his own.

So begins...

Markus Harrington's Story

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#2013-02-01 20:20:25, as written by Amarkov

Two bullets zipped through the air, one slamming into a male vampire's stomach and the other following suit quickly into its head. The creature was thrown back from the impact, its howl cut short, and the vampire closest to the girl whipped its head in the direction of the new figure. Pulling pale, bluish lips back from monstrous fangs, the third vampire shrieked and leapt forward for the second attacker and was met with a shotgun blast through its abdomen.

Chucking aside the sometimes useful but often cumbersome weapon, Mark whipped out the knife at his thigh and, in a moment of bravado, threw it straight at a fourth vampire. He missed by an embarrassing margin and the knife embedded itself in a nearby tree. He was no good with any range weapon besides a gun, and wasn't sure what had possessed him to suddenly play darts with the damned. With the last two bullets from his first pistol laying in the corpse of one vamp and his shotgun too slow to reload, it was time to go for his final pistol.

The fourth creature whipped its head to look over at the knife, then turn back to Mark, cold rage on its face. Mark had only managed to lift his gun when it was suddenly in his face. He put a wooden bullet into its larynx, but the momentum carried the creature ever forward and Mark was soon slammed under a tangle of dead vampire limbs. The two rolled a little ways backwards, Mark grunting and struggling to disengage. He shoved the corpse aside just in time to spot two more creatures emerging from the hole to serve as snarling, nightmarish backup. Mark laughed quietly under his breath and swore. This was going to be an interesting night.

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#2013-02-04 21:51:20, as written by Amarkov

Markus laughed to himself at the display the other hunter put on. As he dispatched one more emerging creature with his pistol he nodded to himself, rather pleased with her skills. He’d been concerned that he’d be coming to the aid of someone who didn’t know what they were doing, perhaps a young hopeful trying to break into the business by diving in headfirst. He’d seen it enough times before to recognize a seasoned killer at once, though, and differentiate her from the stumbling, terrified fools who thought this sort of thing was easy.

Now that he had a clear path to the tree, Markus swooped down to sling his rifle back across his back and darted forward and pried his knife free from where it was wedged in the wood with a grunt. He slid it back in place and cocked his gun, watching for any other signs of the damned oozing forward from their damp, earthy homes. When nothing seemed to be immediately offering itself up, he edged a bit closer to the woman, gun still raised as precaution.

“Oi there, nice shooting… you taking this place on solo?”

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