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Jason Stackhouse

Sometimes it's okay to do illegal stuff if it's for a good reason. That's in the Bible...or the Constitution.

0 · 453 views · located in Los Angeles

a character in “Wolves Reign”, originally authored by Caged Bird, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

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God gave that boy a penis and a brain, and only enough blood to run one of 'em.







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Full Name

Jason Stackhouse

Nicknames

Jase, J, Special J,
Jason Fuckin' Stackhouse,
Captain Chisel Chest


Species

Human Fencer

Sexuality

Heterosexual

Age

32

Height

5' 10" (1.78 m)

Weight

181 lbs or 82 kg.

Physical Appearance

Jason Stackhouse has the quintessential 'All American Boy look.' Dirty blonde locks, tanned skin, cocky/happy-go-lucky grin plastered on his face, he's physically fit, etc. He has chocolate brown puppy eyes that hold a perpetual naive lost sort of glaze over them and he likes to keep a clean shave.






"Evil is making the premeditated choice to be a Dick! Yeah, premeditated! I know big words too!"






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Personality

He's a red-blooded mortal in a world suddenly colonized by phantasmagoric sophisticates, an affable if dim Everyman whose horndog exterior and prodigious sexploits mask a deep human need for connection.

He has struggled with an addictive personality all his life including dependence on drugs and using sex as a substitute for emotional intimacy. He can be selfish and often involves his friends in his troubles, however, though Jason may not be the brightest bulb on the porch, this free-wheeling bachelor gets people to align themselves with him all the same. That is most likely due to the fact that he doesn't scare easily and will do anything in his power to protect his loved ones. And though he is a bit of a screw up, Jason has a certain innocence that makes him endearing. Unfortunately, he knows he is better off if he decides with his brain instead of his libido, but that's something Jason just is not capable of doing. He constantly searching for the next great high, and he is not afraid to take a walk on the wild side to get it.

Likes||Dislikes

Jason enjoyed playing football as a kid and equally enjoys watching the game on TV as an adult. He knows just about any sport statistic you can think of. Likewise, he enjoys a nice cold beer, has done a few drugs(Though he is mostly sober of anything hardcore now), likes to workout, sex, and play video games. He hates chick flicks, smooth jazz, politics, abusers, bigots, and big rivers.

Fears||Weaknesses


Fearless and loyal to a fault, he will often run into dangerous situations without fully thinking them through. He tends to be the epitome of a "simple man" and is not very "book smart". Jason is also very outspoken, and while in normal situtations its an admirable trait, in his line of work, it tends to get him in trouble.
Skills

As a former football star quarterback, Jason is very athletic and keeps up his fitness through an intense workout regimen. He is capable of handling himself in a fight and is unafraid to challenge or attack individuals with strength that dwarfs his own if someone he cares about is in danger. He has proven multiple times he is quite proficient in the use of firearms as he usually hits his intended target with uncanny accuracy.





"If what you've done is stupid but it works, then it really isn't that stupid at all."





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History

Jason lived a normal contented childhood...that was, until he turned 11 years old and both of his parents died in a flash flood, causing him to have to move in with his grandmother Adele Stackhouse. Then when Jason turned 18, he made the decision to move back into his child hood home, even though his gran wanted him to remain with her. This was when Jason left high school, did not go to college as he failed to earn a scholarship from playing football, and got a job on the road crew where he was Supervisor.

About three years later his gran suffered a fatal heart attack leaving Jason all alone in the world. He combated his loneliness with sex and drugs, partying the pain away. Because of this, he soon lost his job on the road crew and lost his grandmother's home over an inability to pay the bills. He seemed to be spiraling down into a deep depression he couldn't get high enough to rise out of. Just as he was about to lose his second home-his parents ramshackle housing-his friend Hoyt, his saving grace, introduced him to fencing. At first Jason just sold stolen items(TV's, DVD's--all sorts of electronics and various equipment)to those unaware that the goods were stolen. All humans. But he quickly found himself being pulled into a more risky business that not even Hoyt knew about...and all because of his libido.

One of the thieves through which he got stolen goods developed an infatuation with Jason, and true to Stackhouse style, he quickly bedded her. It wasn't too far into their toxic relationship when she revealed to him where the real money was, working for the Werewolves. "There's werewolves still? Big Foot, is he real, too? Santa?" She laughed at what she thought was skepticism and agreed to bring him along on a meet with one of the wolves to see if she could get him in the game. The wolf she brought him to meet didn't like so much that she had openly shared not only information on their existence but brought Jason to meet him so he killed the girl for her insolence and told Jason he'd be his new fencer. Terrified, Jason agreed. It's been many years since this happened and he has been passed around from wolf to wolf to fence them goods they need to survive. Jason hated it at first but has grown comfortable and complacent with the cash incentive. He had wanted, once upon a time, to get revenge for the girl he had been seeing, but upon learning that she was supposed to 'belong' to the wolf-some sort of couple mate like thing, and that she'd brought her boy toy to meet her wolf toy, he quickly understood why the animal went wild. Not that he agreed with it or wouldn't take him down if he ever got the chance....

So begins...

Jason Stackhouse's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Maia Murdock Character Portrait: Lauren Silverstein Character Portrait: Coren Somerhalder Character Portrait: Camille Elliot Character Portrait: Victor Creed
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America was no stranger to war. Over the long, bloody centuries, the New World had been captured and fought over by a succession of conquerors before finally claiming its independence. But all these merely human conflicts were fleeting in comparison with the shadowy, ageless war now being fought in the moonlit streets and alley ways of downtown Seattle.


A war that, at long last, might be nearing its end.


The Werewolves had been losing ground for a little more than two centuries, ever since their crushing defeat back in 1809, when a daring assault team had penetrated one of their hidden fortresses. The government then believed Adam, the most feared and ruthless leader ever to rule the wolf horde and the original werewolf, had been killed at last, his men scattering to the wind in a single evening of purifying flame and retribution for humankind. Yet the ancient feud had proved unwilling to follow Adam to the grave. Though the Werewolves were fewer in number, the war had become even more perilous--for the moon no longer was the only time during which they could shift. Older, more powerful wolves were now able to change form at will, posing an even greater threat to humanity. For close to 200 years, the Wolfsbane Warriors, an elite squad of human assassin's, had pursued the surviving man-beasts, the weapons changing but never the tactics: hunt the wolves down, and kill them off, one by one. A most successful campaign...or so they thought. But deep beneath the the city streets the wolves live and plot their revenge, their resurgence, their revolution.


Cut to the aforementioned city streets, the dawn of a new day where the human world continued on in blissful ignorance of the war that still posed a threat to their way of life, of the war that they still believed to only to exist in the pages of their history books...Driving rain pelted the rooftops, while the howling autumn wind carried a hint of winter's bite. A grotesque stone gargoyle, oily black and slick with rain, perched on the crumbling ledge of Gray's Security Firm, an imposing, three-story block adorned by long faded elaborate stonework. The oldest edifice in the district, whose ground floor now housed a dry cleaners and a loan office, overlooked The Square, a busy hub of pedestrian and auto traffic located near the heart of the city. Buses, taxis, and other various vehicles zipped along the streets below, braving the torrential downpour.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Victor Creed Character Portrait: Shavon Griessel Character Portrait: Victoria Striker Character Portrait: Jason Stackhouse
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As usual, her blase attitude irked Victor. He had long suspected that Ms. Striker had only once served as a Wolfsbane Warrior in the field to advance her own position within the order; in a Patriarchy based largely on seniority, a reputation as an assassin provided an efficient shortcut to the upper echelons for a woman like her. Being the infamous Blue Riding Hood had made Striker's name, and, at least as far as Victor was concerned, she had been coasting on that triumph ever since. To his perpetual annoyance, the Assassin regent had zero patience for any attitude that contradicted her seat of power. The silver fox pulled a chair deskside, metal scrapping on marble with a sound reminiscent of nails on a chalk board, bidding Victor to sit at her feet like some obedient dog. She produced a paper and pad for his little 'questionnaire' and his dosage for the week--his pupils contracting and dilating at the sight of the needle and syringe. She quickly and impatiently answered the phone on the first ring and hung up all before he had made it to the seat where he slid down in the chair, legs extended, ankles crossed and fingers intertwined, hands resting on his chest. "The half wits they send us these days.. And they wonder how we could be infiltrated. It seems there are fewer people with any raw talent for the job of wolf hunting." Victor smiled, still predatorily, but somewhat less so than before, his fangs peaking out from behind thin lips. "At least we can agree on something." he replied, his voice heavy with bemusement, his tone always low like the growl of a wolf mixed with dark chocolate and velvet and sex. "Lets see, I am not craving raw meat, feeling the urge to bay the moon...or chase cars and neighborhood cats." he chuckled. "No transformations, no sprouting hair in places I didn't have it before." Victor sighed. "Did I miss anything of import? Lets get on with this shall we, Ma'am?" He was ready for his injection and the question and answer portion of the testing he endured was the worst part of it, so tedious. He hoped the rapid fire responses would suffice, after all, did she not wish to be rid of his company?

Most did. Victor Creed was hardly a ray of sunshine. The warrior cocked his head to the side curiously, eyeing her up and down. But maybe he had been barking up the wrong tree all along. She may be ruthless and heartless but then again so was he. She was older but perhaps she still had game in between the sheets...not that she'd ever let him know. She was missing out, women like her usually loved to be dominated in secret.


Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Lauren Silverstein Character Portrait: Coren Somerhalder Character Portrait: Victor Creed Character Portrait: Shavon Griessel Character Portrait: Elizabeth Harrows
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Image"Of course I would be honored to have you teach me...but you certainly have your work cut out for you, Alpha. I am not a werewolf by birth, so I am not as strong as the others and I have no skill in fighting. You are starting out with a very raw piece of material."

Ian studied Lauren with quick and calculating indicolite eyes, a faint smile as sharp as a knife creeping up his face. "I've worked with much less, trust in that my dear." He intoned, voice ominous though he wasn't really intending for it to be. "As it so happens, the full moon is drawing near, and there couldn't be a more opportune time to work. You are at the pique of your physical abilities and your skills will be much sharper now more than ever."

He leaned to rest, it seemed, upon the thick crumbling stone of the capacious wall behind him, one knee bent where his foot pressed against that wall his back propped against; then crossed his arms over his broad chest, the kind of arms that came from exercising his body as much as he exercised his intellect, and he seemed almost meditative as he looked upon her eager countenance. "I want you to report to me tomorrow in the Sparring hall, at high noon, not a minute later or the session is off and I'll have to pawn you off on one of my lesser lieutenants. I haven't the time or patience for games or anything less than one hundred percent commitment from you....You're dismissed." Ian stated, throwing a playful wink her way, belieing the seriousness of his sudden command.






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ImageVictor's mouth drew up into a jester's smile, or more like a macabre horror film caricature or version of a jester's smile--all sharp teeth and malice before he let lose a low riotous laugh that seemed endless as Shay pulled him into an crampt stairwell. And he allowed it for only the reason that he found the whole of the situation oddly amusing. How very typical of a woman to be beguiled by tanned skin, a crooked grin, and lean muscles. Their sex was no less affected than his own by the charms of a beautiful body.

"Calm down Red..." He resounded, long and drawn, dubbing her with a nickname not out of affection but a vague disrespect. "You're not in trouble...yet." He only continued to smile, making his face a perfect mask of comedy from the almost proscenium arch of the stairway, as she appeared to size him up. "You know it wasn't my idea to partner up. I'm hardly the company man. I only said I'd work with you because Striker asked me so nicely." Victor purred, cocking his head to the side as he towered over her dainty form, scrutinizing her in return. "What a funny little thing you are..." He sighed before taking a step toward Shay, too close for comfort in fact, an intimidating tactic. "But don't worry, I won't tell on you as long as you stay out of my way tonight." His warm breath washed over her alabaster skin. "We've been ordered on a hunt. Some mutt has killed eight of our own and we have to track the bitch and put her down."

ImageA plethora of sounds on the tessellated surface of the night came swirling in on the freezing air, a dim mingling of countless human voices. Victor's eyes clamped shut tightly, unable to drown out or control his hightened senses--his sensitive ears. He could hear everything around them for a three block radius, right down to the couple fighting and throwing glass things in the loft above their heads. He wanted to growl but refrained while in such close quarters with another assassin. victor'd hate to have to explain her death to Striker...and her death would be certain if she discovered his secret.

"Now are you going to go put away your delicates and unmentionables so we can leave or am I going to have to go without you and explain your noncompliance to our boss?"






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Image"There she is, up and at em." Coren breathed in relief; his eyes crinkling up at the edges as he smiled lightly, iris' so bright it seemed as if the blue sky was fixed forever in those eyes.

Her friend babbled on abnoxiously, prattling off apologies as if she had them to spare. "I think, I'm just gonna take a taxi back to the apartment." Elizabeth replied, still looking a bit faint and flushed in the cheeks. Coren drifted out of the conversation momentarily to scan the crowd around them. Every tight and corded muscle in his body set on edge in his state of fear. She had drawn so much unwanted attention his way.

"So, what's your name anyway?" She asked, pulling him back into the conversation and out of the panic attack that was forming in his constricting lungs. "Huh? Oh! Coren." He rattled off before considering the fact that he should have probably given her an alias and not his actual name. "Lets uh..get you out of the floor and into a seat, okay?" He asked as he pulled her to her feet, ignoring the nevous clinging grasps of her friend Carrie to Elizabeth's shirt. "You gave everyone quite the scare Hannah Montanna, you're not doing any drugs here lately are you?" He teased before gently guiding her-his hand on the small of her back-to an empty spot on the metro bench and taking the spot next to her, curious as to what could have made her pass out so abruptly.

He sighed balefully, running a hand through his matted locks as Carrie took the available seat nearest him.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Daryl Garreth Character Portrait: Coren Somerhalder Character Portrait: Melanie Johnsheed Character Portrait: Charlotte Constance Lydia Marie Davenport Character Portrait: Jared Geyer
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β€œSame goes for yours...Though you might want to remind them to come back when they come to visit. You wouldn't want to lose another one of your best to me.”

ImageIan smiled superciliously and tilted his head, it oscillating in an almost reptilian manner as he watched Daryl retreat smugly. On the outside, the Alpha seemed quite relaxed, but if any of the other wolves would look upon his face closely enough, they might be inevitably drawn into his bright blue eyes, flickering with undisguised fury. He could feel something in his chest, something volatile, a live thing that stirred, dizzying him with an appetency for battle that made him shudder, turning logic to madness. Soon. He told himself. Soon you will have the fight you crave. Daryl will be made to hurt for this....

The difference between power and control was that power was an empty status. To hold and attain power over others was not significant in itself without effectively wielding it. Control was wielding his strength in his own favor. Control was internal and external. Power was nothing without control, and powerful men like Daryl would always be crushed under the weight of those with control...Those like Ian.

He spun on his heels and strode out of the common room, breath held tightly in his lungs as if he were worried if it escaped, he would follow it back into the room and go for Daryl's throat. This was a dangerous game he was playing now, but the other Alpha would surely come back from speaking to the separate sector's leaders with his tail tucked between his legs like a cur that had been kicked one too many times. In the meantime he headed for another room, one set up for sparring; makeshift mats laid out across the stone floor to protect the unfortunate losers from too painful a fall. Coren would follow as per usual along with the new morning addition, the recently disgruntled Lauren...

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Image"I'm Melanie, but you probably got that from Daryl, and thank you, flattery can get you almost anywhere." The she-wolf replied, extending a hand to shake as a glittering smile broke across her face like the waves of the ocean crashing upon the shore. It lit up her whole countenance. Coren's smile brightened in a subtle way in response--not like a sudden sunburst, but more like an oil lamp being turned up gradually but one that could very easily be smashed to pieces to grow into some frighteningly contagious wildfire. He took her hand is his own but instead of giving it a shake, he brought it to his lips before giving the smooth skin there a kiss. He may of been laying it on thick, but she left the door for flattery wide open with that last comment.

"I'm Coren Smolderholder-er I mean Somerhalder." He replied, feigning the correction before letting her hand slip out of his. "And please don't take any offense, but you are way too pretty to be hanging around with Geyer." He stated, looking to her like a moth drawn to a flame. "Why is this the first time I am seeing you here around Sector one?"