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Daniel J. Anderson
Half-wolf, half-man. A highly trained assassin. Wielding a black blade and a set of pistols, he keeps the peace in New York and around the world.
0 · 995 views · located in 
The Infinite Void
a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by DJAtomika
Description
[ WORK IN PROGRESS. WATCH FOR UPDATES. ]
Personality
[ WORK IN PROGRESS. WATCH FOR UPDATES. ]
Equipment
[ WORK IN PROGRESS. WATCH FOR UPDATES. ]
History
[ WORK IN PROGRESS. WATCH FOR UPDATES. ]
So begins...
Daniel J. Anderson's Story
Daniel J. Anderson gets roused from his alcohol-induced slumber, shaking the cobwebs from his head as he looks around. The only face he recognised : The Card Master. He waved to the cloaked card-player and looked about for a bartender, finding one in Kat. He motions for her to come over. 'Morning, already? Well, could I have some bacon and toast please? I got money somewhere about me...' He frisks himself for a wallet, finding one in his back pocket.
Daniel J. Anderson slips into the bar silently, clothed in his normal gear, a sleeveless black hoodie and grey jeans, fingerless gloves and sneakers, silver-grey tail swishing lazily behind him. He goes behind the bar and retrieves a mug, filling it with ice-cold beer, before taking his usual place in one of the darker corners of the bar.
Daniel J. Anderson enters into the bar, carrying a large, black fabric guitar bag with him. His tail swishes lazily behind him as he takes his usual seat in a corner of the bar, near the counter, yet shrouded in shadow. Placing the bag against a chair, he makes his way over to the counter, filling up a mug with cold beer before returning to his seat, silently watching the occupants of the bar.
Daniel J. Anderson unzips the guitar bag, pulling out an Ibanez Concord acoustic guitar, plucking gently at the strings, not watching Gideon try to kill Axel, ignoring the gunshots. The soft sounds of Western country music fill the bar, if it were silent enough for the music to be heard.
Daniel J. Anderson continues playing on his guitar, plucking and strumming the strings, playing his own rendition of Me and Mrs Jones by Michael Buble, humming softly to himself, the humming and music loud enough to be heard by anyone near him or near his side of the bar.
“
Humming softly to himself, Dan stops playing the guitar for a short while to take a drink from his beer, before resuming to play music, now playing The Bones of You by Elbow, still humming to himself softly as he plays.
”
Daniel J. Anderson switches to a melancholy tune, upon hearing snippets of the conversation, as if giving a backing track to the two sitting at the bar, deep in conversation. He hums out the tune sadly, one he used to play for funerals or during sad times in his life.
“
Upon hearing the conversation switch topics suddenly, he resumes simply playing music for the occupants of the bar to listen to, this time playing Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood by Santa Esemerelda.
”
Daniel J. Anderson plays the chords of the song's chorus, softly singing out the lyrics to the chorus.
' 'Cause I'm just a soul whose intentions are good,
oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood. '
' 'Cause I'm just a soul whose intentions are good,
oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood. '
Daniel J. Anderson places his guitar gently on the table in front of him, next to his half-empty mug of beer. He stands, shadows gathering around his hand as he walks towards the robed skeleton, the cold only vaguely perceptible to him through the layer of fur on him. The shadows around his hand gather around his arm, then flow down to his hand, extending into the shape of a sword, a mix of a Japanese katana and a standard shortsword.
'No violence in the bar, mister. I suggest you back off before things get a bit too ugly.'
'No violence in the bar, mister. I suggest you back off before things get a bit too ugly.'
“
'Threat?' Dan eyed the large cannon, primed and ready, swivelling around to face them. His sword, as quick it appeared, disappears, fading into shadows that swirl about his arm and then disappear into his body. He calmly walked back to his guitar and beer, sitting down and resuming his music-playing, noticing the new occupants.
”
“
His head hidden beneath the hood of a hoodie, the wolf-man made his way into the bar, a guitar case gripped in a gloved hand/paw. He sits in his usual corner, near the bar counter, at a table shrouded in shadow. He pops open the guitar case, not revealing the contents of the case to anyone but himself, rummaging around, probably messing with a guitar, if there was one in the case to begin with.
”
Daniel J. Anderson pulls an acoustic guitar, an Ibanez Concord, out of the case, before snapping it shut and flipping the latches on the case, closing it fully. He plays some chords, before settling on a song to play, Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood by Santa Esmerelda his choice of tune for today.
He strums the intro chords softly, before playing the chords of the verse, keeping in mind to play them softly so as not to annoy the patrons of the bar. The lyrics, he leaves out, content with humming softly to himself.
He strums the intro chords softly, before playing the chords of the verse, keeping in mind to play them softly so as not to annoy the patrons of the bar. The lyrics, he leaves out, content with humming softly to himself.
Daniel J. Anderson props up his legs on the table in front of him, guitar resting in his lap as he played chord after chord, note after note. The songs he could play flew through his head, remembering correct chords, notes, and if it were playable on an acoustic or an electric guitar. Currently he plays a country-ish tune, of his own composition.
The chords he would play, and the rhythm he chose, the things he would hum, it would suggest that he knew someone that was a cowboy. The tune is reminiscient of a tune a cowboy or a ranch hand would play out in the Texan desert, or on a cattle farm, back in the old days of the USA's past, during the Wild West era.
The chords he would play, and the rhythm he chose, the things he would hum, it would suggest that he knew someone that was a cowboy. The tune is reminiscient of a tune a cowboy or a ranch hand would play out in the Texan desert, or on a cattle farm, back in the old days of the USA's past, during the Wild West era.
Daniel J. Anderson switches tunes now, changing fluidly from a country tune to a decidedly Latin tune, tapping out a beat with his feet that were on the floor again, also tapping on the body of his guitar every now and then, playing a tune that you could dance to, but was only loud enough to be heard if you were sitting at the same table or close by.
“
The wolf's own eyes were closed, concentrating on his music, rather than the going ons of the bar and its patrons. The door of the bar opening violently, however, broke this "trance" of his, and sent his white eyes wandering to the source of the sound, landing on the individual, apparently a young lady who seemed to be in her late teens. The music he was playing would continue, regardless of the disturbance and the fact that his eyes were not on his guitar.
”
“
In response, Dan closed his eyes again, turning the Latin dance beat into a more rapid, fast paced flamenco dance tune, fingers flying over the strings as he tapped and thumped out a beat with his feet.
He began to rise, standing up now. His shoes, even though they looked like sneakers, had metal-plated soles, toes and heels for protection. The metal was light-weight, but strong and sturdy. With this pair of shoes, he began to tap-dance, an amateur at this artform that combined dance and music, but able to achieve, nonetheless. With guitar in hand and feet tapping out a rhythm, he would move out of his shadowy corner, ever so slightly, moving nearer to the dancing lady. ”
He began to rise, standing up now. His shoes, even though they looked like sneakers, had metal-plated soles, toes and heels for protection. The metal was light-weight, but strong and sturdy. With this pair of shoes, he began to tap-dance, an amateur at this artform that combined dance and music, but able to achieve, nonetheless. With guitar in hand and feet tapping out a rhythm, he would move out of his shadowy corner, ever so slightly, moving nearer to the dancing lady. ”
Daniel J. Anderson The door of the bar creaks open, yet there is no one outside. No one should notice the black mist pouring into the establishment, and as the door closes, the mist coalesces into a man, 5'10", who is also half-wolf. He walks non-chalantly to the corner of the bar that was clothed in shadow, sitting down and lighting a cigarette.
Puffing from his cigarette, he placed it gently on an ash tray before ambling over to the bar, looking around for a bartender.