TOM WOLF (PC - PLAYER CHARACTER)



A naked 5'8" 195lb, golden eyed male with shoulder length auburn hair, woke up suddenly. The metal restraints that formally held him to the tilted metal examination table not longer held him. He blinked three or four times and groggily stepped forward, the sensors on his chest and head ripped from the monitor as he stumbled forward. Alarms sounded softly as the telemetry stopped.

Shakily he reached over to steady himself and the IV needles ripped from his wrist and arms. More alarms began to sound. Suddenly he reached up to cover his ears as the softly sounding alarms, pierced through his hearing like a thousand sirens. His right arm swung out smashing into the monitor, sending if flying thirty feet through the air, across the laboratory. Smashing into a medical cabinet with enough force to shatter the monitor and the glass on the medical cabinet. Once again he fell to his knees covering his ears and howling out in pain.

The laboratory lights flashed twice then went out enveloping the laboratory in darkness only penetrated by the light from under a door. Suddenly his vision shifted to one of a subdued twilight like hue. Even in this subdued light he could make out every detail of the laboratory.

The acrid smell of electrical charges, medicinal fluids and rotten flesh permeated the room. Rising from his knees and elbows to his knees, he saw a bracelet on his right arm with the name TOM WOLF and a barcode on it. Standing and looking around he saw a table. Lying folded on the table were a pair of black jeans, socks, a black t-shirt, a back leather jacket and a pair of black calf high heavy soled boots. He stood and stumbled over to the table and dressed.

He confusingly looked around and saw a solid steel door. Walking over he tried it only to find it locked. Grabbing the door handle he pulled and pulled the door was locked securely. Looking around frantically, becoming more frustrated, he saw a large glass wall, five feet high and ten feet long. Lights flashed on the opposite side of the wall revealing a room with an open door. Picking up a metal chair, he began to repeatedly beat the chair against the window. Suddenly a large crack spider webbed across the glass wall. Repeated strikes eventually shattered the reinforced glass. More alarms sounded louder.

Dropping the chair, and covering his ears, wincing from the pain, he climbed thru the shattered wall, into the observation room and out the door. Slowly he stumbled out into the corridor and down the hall, nearly falling again to his knees, his sight returning to normal in the lighted passageway. Stumbling down the hall, staggering from wall to wall, the sound slowly faded in the distance.

Confusion continues to fill Tom’s mind as he looks around and sniffs the air. Why does this look and smell so familiar, he can not remember ever being here before. Yet something pushes him on. More memory flashes speed across his mind. The shafts of light filtering thru the cracks in the ceiling illuminate graffiti painted on the walls. Words that are somehow familiar as he reads them, although the symbols elude his comprehension. He can hear the scratching of rats as their claws scamper across the concrete and dig in the refuge littering the tunnel. Strange voices echo thru the tunnel to his ears faintly, although some of the words mean nothing to him.

Coming to an abandoned subway car, he sniffs and cautiously climbs in through the end door. Sniffing and closely examining the car a faint scent of human and animal remain lingering in the air. The signs above the seats speak of strange and unfamiliar things. After examining the car thoroughly Tom leaps to the track bed below and continues on down the tunnel. Finding a passage way to the right of the main tunnel, he turns and enters a small room. In the corner is the remains what appears to be a campsite. A pile of torn and soiled blankets, some old coffee cans and assorted refuge. Tom sniffs the blankets, steps on them, a rat scurries from the blankets and with the speed of a cobra Tom snatches the rate by the neck. He bites into the rat and devours it. He then circles three times ruffling the blankets up and lies down, falling into a light and broken sleep. Waking often from dreams and to the slightest sound.

NAME : Leo

AGE: 24

SPECIES: Human, seemingly “pure-blooded” but who knows…



APPEARANCE: A lightly muscled 5’ 9”, wavy blond hair, clear blue eyes, isn’t good at growing facial hair and thus prefers to be clean shaven; he smiles more than seems appropriate for this grim world, as if untouched by its tragedy. Leo wears a black leather jacket and fingerless gloves. But that is not all he wears. Those are just the important things.

OCCUPATION: Treasure Hunter. Explores and collects things from ruins of civilization, relying on his dexterity and optimism; barters his finds for a living. He is especially fascinated by the remnants of technology, sometimes attempting to repair/invent things (with varying degrees of success, as he usually has only crappy parts to work with). Rides a clunky old Honda bike (has undergone many repairs) with a sidecar converted into a trailer for tools and other junk. A sampling of items in the trailer: wrenches, hammer, bolts, rope, netting, flint & steel, hand saw, hunting knife, crowbar, small tarp, odd wires and pipes, cans of spam (it never goes bad).

SKILLS: Stealth skills emphasizing breaking and entering, mechanics, and wilderness survival—particularly adapted to the strangely vegetated areas of his homeland (where uber-plants have all but destroyed the remnants of pre-year-zero society). For self-defense, Leo is armed with a Glock 19 semi-automatic handgun, a machete and a lucky smile.

BACKSTORY: Leo was born and raised among a clan of semi-nomadic tinkerers called “Junk Gypsies” by outsiders who know of them. The region of the world where the gypsies roam is also populated by a large number of mutants as well as superstitious “pure” humans—though these two groups don’t live in the same communities (in this area, individual fortified towns are common). As is typical throughout much of the world, the humans shun the mutants, many of whom are in fact dangerous, giving the whole lot a bad name. Junk Gypsies, however, take a more diplomatic stance towards mutants and willingly trade with them. Interestingly, many human communities refuse to trade more than absolutely necessary with gypsies because the gypsies are associated with technology. Many of these superstitious humans shun technology, viewing it as the cause of the great apocalypse, knowing little else about it.

With this setting as his origin, Leo wanders the countryside in search of the treasures of the lost world, always willing to follow up rumors of technologically rich sites. He rambles most days of the year, but does go back home from time to time to see his mom and the rest of the clan, bearing gifts of spare parts. His father is also a rambling man, and Leo hasn’t seen him since his youth.

"Kitty"


HUMAN-ANIMAL HYBRID (FELINE)

APPEARANCE

Brown hair, greenish/yellow eyes, pigmentation marks on her face, wider at the hair line and thinner as they reach further onto her face and her ears taking on the shape of the point of a cats, Kitty is undeniably different.

While she stands up straight and walks like a human, her facial features show she's not exactly your typical human. Even her fingernails can be retracted back into her fingers and extended when needed. The result of a government experiment mixing feline (tiger to be exact) DNA with human DNA, she has decided to emerge from the underground society of hybrids to try and make her way in the new world, or what's left of it now.

SKILLS

Keen hearing, heightened sense of smell, enhanced strength and night vision are just some of the enhanced abilities she has thanks (or not) to the governments need to reach the next level in genetic experiments.

Kitty can understand everything you say to her, but she is unable to communicate in a normal language due to having feline vocal chords instead of human ones. She can say simple words and when she talks, it sounds more like a purr or a growl. Instead of trying to talk, she uses a combination of ASL her own form of sign language or nods and shakes her head

HISTORY

Kept secret from the world, along with the others of her kind, Kitty was in a deep underground laboratory. It was many years after the Apocalypse before the many tests scientists perfromed were successful in fusing human and feline DNA. When food began to run out, the other hybrids decided it was time to prove to their "parents" they were more than simple beings.

Overpowering the scientists who were keeping them held in the lab, Kitty, along with many others, escaped and began their own society living in the abandoned tunnels and buildings that once kept a heavily populated city running day and night.

Upon surfacing to the destroyed world, she and her fellow hybrids realized most human populations were wiped out. Only now and again would they come across a few sparse groups and they were sick and dying, or already dead, from the affects of the radiation.

Since she was able to remain in the lab for a while after the explosions and fall out, she and her kind were greatly unaffected by the affects the environment had on the humans. But to help with things, the lab was equipped with a decontamination chamber at the entrance so anyone coming back into the lab after a visit outside the protective walls had to spend a few moments in the chanber to insure they didn't contaminate the group.

Now she walks about the abandoned city, or what's left of it, looking for survivors, of any breed, to try and unite the species. "Live together or die alone." Where she heard that saying she can't remember, but she never forgot the meaning of it.

Name: Gregory / Sophocles Charon
Place and Time: Year Zero
Race: Human...-ish

A man on a mission from... Well, himself actually. Though Gregory isn't his given name, he has adopted it after he left his home town; Purity (that’s what they call it nowadays, anyway). Purity is a town where “untainted” humans have gathered after the apocalypse and created a relatively thriving community, unfortunately this means all who show signs of mutations are quickly disposed off, one way or another. Gregory seemed pure blooded enough, in the sense that the radiation from the apocalypse had not stained it, but some time ago he started to show some strange symptoms. Fortunately his tale did not end there, for his family is a part of Purity’s ruling class and they used their influence to hide him and see if they could reverse the mutation. Surely the mutation was caused by an outside influence, some kind of contamination perhaps, it couldn’t have been in his blood all along, they told themselves. But as a month drew by and little progress was made, Gregory decided to leave. If he stayed much longer his secret would eventually leak out, that would do him no good, and probably his family neither. And so he packed his things and went off to find a cure on his own, though he has made little progress…

Due to his heritage, Gregory had the finest education Purity could offer, leaving him with a good general knowledge of things, but specifically he learned all there was to know about engineering. Most of the noteworthy equipment he carries he, at least partially, made himself; including the “Current Amplifier”, “Auto-Bow” and the “Byonamo”. The Current Amplifier, also referred to as “Ol’ Zappy”, consists of a pair of gloves with copper plates on the outside, covering the knuckles, top of the fingers and the complete finger tips of both hands. Once activated Ol’ Zappy will be electrically charged and punches become shockingly more harmful (pun intended). If punching means getting in too close to your foe, it comes with a button that will release a bolt of energy from the tip of the index finger capable of electrifying someone from a meter away at best. The power is provided by batteries making continual use of Ol’ Zappy impossible. The “Auto-Bow” is practically a straightforward crossbow, except that it is powered by an electrical motor. It was designed to work with specially made steel bolts, but Gregory has run out of those long ago and needed to modify the A-Bow to work with a larger variety of ammunition, anything approximately the right size and shape can be fired by the A-Bow. It also runs on batteries, the same as the Current Amplifier. The Byonamo gets its name from the combination of both Biological and Dynamo. In order to be able to use his battery powered weapons no matter where he is, he relies on the Byonamo to keep his batteries filled with electrical current. It is basically a suit covering large portions of his body that converts about anything his body does into a little trickle of electricity. Every breath, every step he takes is converted by the suit into electricity, even body heat. The Byonamo covers Gregory’s Chest his upper legs and arms and comes with a mask covering the mouth which doubles as an air purifier (can’t be too careful). The batteries and wires with which to connect the batteries with the two weapons are also considered a part of the Byonamo. Something it does not do is offer protection, but luckily it is light and slim, making it hard to even notice the Byonamo under Gregory’s stylish (well, it was fashionable in Purity anyway) leather jacket and pants. Additionally his equipment was designed to be practically waterproof, as long as he doesn’t go for a swim his equipment should continue to work properly (who goes swimming with so much equipment anyway?).

Luckily for Gregory his mutations are not so easy to spot, which at least gives him the appearance of an ordinary human being. Probably the easiest to spot symptom of his mutation can be seen by his eyes. Each eye’s iris has changed from what was once brown to pitch black and is also enlarged. The once white tissue surrounding it has become yellowish with red veins clearly showing. Gregory covers them with a pair of dark goggles. Even when staring through dark goggles he can still see just fine, a positive side effect of his changed eyes, in fact he has superior eyesight compared to normal humans, almost nothing escapes his eyes. His skin has also undergone some changes, for one it has turned almost completely pale and he lost all of his body hair. He can also no longer sweat, instead his skin secretes an oily substance which does offer some isolation, but not being able to sweat still makes him susceptible to heat. On top of that his skin has become much more sensitive. The final sign of mutation is the small tail he has started to grow in the last few months, but he makes sure it stays in his pants. Though Gregory certainly benefits from some of his mutations, also including increases in agility and speed, he is anything but pleased by the recent changes to his physique. Luckily for him they did come up with a way to slow the speed at which Gregory is mutating back in Purity, unfortunately it means he is on a steady diet of Ovien leaves, a rare plant said to be able to reverse mutation, but Gregory knows better by now. In order to supply himself with the leaves he carries an Ovien plant around, of which he is very protective and takes care of as best he can, which is no easy task for it is a very demanding plant. Aside from the positive effects on his mutations it leaves Gregory with little appetite, and he is unsure if his body has gotten used to too little nutrition or whether it is the mutation that allows him to continue his journey at a steady pace. He hopes it is not the mutation…

His ordeal has certainly not made Gregory a nicer person to be around, for one he can’t risk people getting too close to notice he is no longer purely human and secondly he is too much in a hurry to find a cure that he doesn’t wish to waste his time with other people. Still to other humans he is likely to be friendly enough, but anyone else had better stay out of his way if they don’t want a piece of his mind, or if he is in a bad mood, a piece of Ol’ Zapper.

Name: Gavin Piper (Last name is a play on "Pied Piper")
Age: 26
Species: Human/Rat hybrid

Appearance: Oddly enough, Gavin is average height, about 5'10" of average to slightly smaller build. Though he is not obviously muscled or of a particularly threatening stature, he is toned and relatively fit. A mop of unkempt brown hair falls over his head around his eyes and down the back of his neck almost brushing the base of it. Muddy brown eyes are usually hidden behind a pair of cheap, black sunglasses. Though unwilling to grow a beard, a healthy amount of stubble covers his somewhat squared chin and defined jaw. In clothing, he gives the appearance of a bum who has become especially adept at Dumpster diving: A pair of torn blue jeans beneath a worn, plain t-shirt, are swallowed within a trench coat which, while intact, has seen better days. He managed to hold on to the combat style boots however and a pair of fingerless gloves which he says keep his palms warm.

Personality: Gavin's expression is usually that of a kind of platonic calm and this is reflective of his overall personality. Despite having some of the genes of a prey animal, Gavin is rather laid back and passive with a go-with-the-flow attitude. At the same time, however, he is cautious and relatively intelligent, knowing trusting too many will lead to his downfall. As a result, he lives his life moment-to-moment, just trying to survive. While he sometimes yearns for company, he is mostly a loner and is most comfortable alone, particularly when he need some time to think. Should he come across friendly company, he is loyal and caring and will go out of his way to help where he can. Since he hasn't met too many who would qualify as friendly company, he lets his nature guide him which in his case is usually into the shadows where he'll observe covertly though not necessarily from a distance. Most of his social contact is with rats.

Bio.: Gavin is the most successful result of some extremely precise genetic concoctions. While others were creating hybrid soldiers of brute strength and unleashed fury, Gavin's creators were looking for a more covert, stealthy approach to their soldiers. While the rat provided the covert part, they unfortunately also provided a high level of anxiety unfit for a soldier. Though extensive genetic research, certain traits were handpicked, such as a low level of stress hormone, and these were bred with one another while the rejects were culled. Among these generations, Gavin was created and fit the mold rather well. While being raised and trained in this facility, Gavin was treated like the lab rat he was, residing in a cage and often ridiculed and mistreated by some of the lower assistants. During the nuclear holocaust, the lab was badly damaged and most of the subjects perished. At the same time, both Gavin and his cage were badly damaged, but luckily not so much that he couldn't wander out into this strange new world. Since then, he has been wandering the streets, looking out for others and just trying to survive until he can be sure all is truly hopeless.

Alterations: While his teeth do not appear to be rat-like, they are stronger and sturdier than the average human and with some gnawing, he is able to chew through many different materials without damaging them. He also has a strong sense of smell and good hearing, although his eyes are extremely sensitive to light and he has difficulty seeing during the day. He can also compress his skeleton not unlike a rodent so that he is able to fit into spaces much smaller than the average human could squeeze through. He is also skilled at climbing. The most notable of his abilities is the almost psychic connection he has with his rat cousins. Without speaking a word or sometimes even moving, Gavin can control rats and they will do his bidding for him without hesitation. This also comes with the side effect of seeming to attract rats wherever he goes.

'Plymuth'

ICHTHYO-SAPIEN (Human-Animal Mutant)

APPEARANCE

Age: 34 Height: 1.78m (5'10") Weight: 15.36 stone (215 lbs)

Plymuth is muscular, with strong chiseled features, and has dark receding hair which he keeps shaved. His blue green eyes like the ocean appear to be human. Aside from his normal human eyelids, however, he has two other sets, one which closes over the eye helping him to see perfectly underwater, and a third protective lid which is an opaque white that reacts when the eyes are threatened.

MUTATIONS

He can see as clearly in dim underwater conditions as he can in the day and he can breath in open air as well as underwater, due to gills behind his ears. The normal air passages that connect a humans ear to their throat have been greatly enlarged, allowing his gills to be fully functional. His skin is resilient against over exposure to water and allows to stay indefinitely under water if he so chooses.

His lung capacity is greatly enhanced, allowing the storage of enriched oxygen to sustain his body, which allows Plymuth to dive very deep, but just how many fathoms has never been determined. On land, his oversized lungs and ability to sustain a higher hemoglobin count than a human can tolerate gives him a heightened a endurance. This combined with the strength developed living and swimming in the water for prolonged periods of time has given him heightened attributes by human standards.

While underwater he is able to hear perfectly, and decipher sounds at approximately 250 meters as well as smell substances, such as blood up to 2 kilometers away. He can also feel vibrations through his skin that alert of him any presences that are near him, but on land his senses are fairly normal, and his hearing is actually less sensitive, he can pick up sounds but cannot readily decipher what they may be. His eyes as well see far better underwater and are able to focus at what would be 30:5 vision, as his protective membrane is like a magnifying glass when submerged.

His skeleton has also been altered, and his bones are coated with an extra layer of cartilage making them very difficult to break as they can absorb powerful impacts. If a fracture does occur, the cartilage will mend very quickly, providing support while the bone mends. His skin also heals much faster as well, but for his regenerative ability to work for abrasions and wounds he has to be submerged in water.

In the water, his hands and feet will secrete a mucous which will within a hour begin to congeal and form a membrane between the digits in which capillaries will form to carry a blood supply. This webbing will continue to exist until he leaves the water for more than 48 hours, then the membrane will begin to wither and die, sloughing off in a few more days. Should he remain in the water for more than 48 hours, the mucous will begin form over his entire body, giving him added protection against the water, covering him with blueish coloured epidermis. A skin, like his webbing, will be shed after he has been out of the water for a lengthly period of time, and his gills will also fold tightly behind his ears making them very difficult to distinguish.

Under the water, Plymuth is able to communicate with others of his kind (if any still exist) by the use of dolphin-like high pitch whistles, chirps and clicks that their vocal cords have mutated to produce. On land these sounds do not travel as far, but can still be effectively used as a secondary language, although limited in the amount that can be said.

HISTORY

Plymuth grew up off the southern coast of what was once England and was named (with an incorrect spelling) after his birthplace, the remnants of one of the great cities that overlooked the ocean. He is the product of generations of mutations, that were caused by an evolved virus that infected the entire population of his humble fishing village. Those that survived the illness were changed, developing fish like characteristics which for most were internal but for an unfortunate few, became horrible aberrations that had to be destroyed. In time, they became a species, each generation growing stronger than those they preceded and until Plymuth was born, the villagers had only possessed vestigial or semi-functioning gills.

His people eventually left the violent coast and built their homes upon a platform that was once used to extract oil from the bottom of the sea. On this ancient man-made island the people who called themselves the Selkie, after an old tale from the forgotten Hebrides, of creatures who could assume the form of seals, created a self-sustaining village. They developed an understanding of the technology left behind, and utilized solar and geo-thermal power sources to provide power. Fish farms beneath the water at the base of the structure were made, and the Selkie who could either hold their breath or partially breath underwater for a lengthly time tended them.

Gardens of seaweed and kelp, grew over the fish farms, feeding both the villagers and the fish while green houses were constructed from which they were able to harvest fruits and vegetables. Everything, their clothes, paper, ropes, and even fuel (via a process of converting algae into an 'fossil fuel) were made from what they took from the sea and in turn all waste was reused, creating a utopian society that for many years thrived, but it would always not be so. Their birth rate was very low, many children that were born with severe deformities or mutations that took their lives and though the people seemed to have far greater life spans than humans, their numbers dwindled.

A new threat emerged on the horizon, a crusading cult of pure strain humans, bent on purging the world of the un-clean. They used their religion to justify genocide, and hunted mutants in the name of their god, living off of the toils of their labours. The Selkie saw them for what they were — murderous thieving pirates, and the first time they appeared they fought them off and strung the corpses to the pillars as message to all those who would ever again try and attack their home. Time passed, and Plymouth grew listening to the stories of the pirates from his grandfather and though the Selkie had triumphed in the past, they numbers were fewer and they feared the return of the invaders. For the years had been kind to the Humans, their cult grew, flourishing upon the graves of their conquests and they set their eye once more upon the island city that become known as Avalon.

Plymuth was a grown man when the pirates returned, out to sea salvaging yet another ship. He had become a trader and because he was able to survive underwater at great depths, he was able to obtain items that the land dwellers had never seen and the wares fetched a good trade in the coastal communities. None ever suspected him to have a mutation, and Plymuth was able to move about in the human world and profit from his hidden abilities. When he returned to his home, he found it over run with Humans and is entire village, including his family, had been strung up like tuna and left to rot in the sun. He killed many Humans that day, but his burning vengeance only seemed to grow with every life he took and eventually he too was struck down, but they did not kill him. As the last of his kind, the Humans of the purist cult called the Nobles of Man, branded him with their mark and cast him into the sea and forbidden to ever live like a man again. They believed that he, like the rest of his people, could not survive indefinitely in the ocean but they were wrong. He survived, but currents pulled his crippled body far from home, toward a distant land that his people had spoken of, a land called the Americas.

On the coast of a new world, Plymuth was able to re-equip himself and begin anew, but never again would he trust Humans. The loss of his people burned within him, and the taste, the smell, everything of the sea washed over him like salty tears, and so he turned away and pressed inland, toward his greatest fear. He sought to escape the pain and felt the deep into the dry lands he would find solace or perhaps death, either way it did not matter.

Tiph,

Welcome to the fray....Plymuth is approved.

Fold him into the story when you think he would fit since he's been traveling into the interior of the giant cat box that used to be America.

Rarmon



Race & Class: Technological Cyborg (with feelings included)

APPEARANCE

Age:42+ Height: 1.93m (6'4") Weight: umm heavy

Physical Description: he has black hair with streaks of grey which is cut into a military haircut, always wears a helmet to cover blue bionic eyes, flack jacket and combat trousers which are urban, a black overcoat for cold times. His features are typical soldier his chin square, his shoulders are broad the only smell that comes from him is the smell of lubricaing oils and maybe maybe a stench of death as he is covered in blood from survival.

Personality: Simple military man a grunt to the force when it was around and a black sense of humour but his morals are set right in helping others. Does talk to himself about 'the old days'


WEAPONARY

.30 cal rifle 25 rounds (drum enhancment available with a chainsaw attachment)
3 shot anti-heavy revolver (punches holes in stuff).

BAG LOOT

Whiskey (medication for the wounds be them physical or mental)
Cigars
Grenades
Ammo & Mags (important for shooting )

BIONICS

Due to bionics it takes more than a few claws and knifes to take him down instead a good spray of bullets. His whole body was done into bionics no heart beats beneath the prosthetic skin and hard steel shell only a brain sits inside of him. (alot of nervous surgery though)

Rarmon is a artwork of machinary as his eyesight/HUD is computer based and independant as it enters commands measuring distances and accessing the 'net' obtaining maps, GPS signals the usual necessities of soldiers

HISTORY

Welcome to the fray....Bloodnose!! It's great to have you back, my friend.

Rarmon is approved.

Fold him into the story when you think he would fit.

its a bit empty im still editting to give some detail into it and some corrections dont remember putting yellow eyes so tweaking!!!

NAME : Jack 'Longshot' Carver

AGE: N/a

SPECIES: Human....well they say he is something iffy



APPEARANCE: A lightly muscled 5’ 11”, grey dull hair, steel grey eye,unilluminated bionic eye, always cold and stern when angry quite laid back if in a 'good mood'. Jack wears standard issue sniper gear (longcoat with hood, drab trousers, t-shirt and webbing and sniper trigger gloves).

OCCUPATION: Freelance sniper. Explores and hunts, relying on his decisive wit and instincts. He is especially occupied when he finds human tracks instead of mutants. He carries everything he needs and is quick on foot most of the time he rides a drab sprayed motorcross bike looking for 'game'.

SKILLS: Stealth skills of moving here and there, patience,Bionics increasing stamina, and a knack for survival. For weaponary, Jack is loaded with a MK11 sniper rifle (semi-automatic with a x10 zoom installed) as a seconday for those close pinches a relic of weapons a colt.45 semi-automatic pistol with black pearl grips.

BACKSTORY:

Jack Carver is a sniper, he came from the same unit as Rarmon they had both been in the infantry together. Unlike Rarmon his memories are in good order he has one sole objective hunting a single hybrid. Any other hybrid he will act neutral hoping to get information the hybrid he wanted was 'Kitty' he had only been a PFC when he had watched the rest of his squad killed by this 'Kitty' his sarge was taken into a project of bionical special forces (Rarmon). Jack vowed to one day kill 'Kitty' he had followed Rarmon into the bionic special forces a year after Rarmon hoping to help. Jack had more adept bionics a more recent version than Rarmon. Ulterior motives were handled inside Rarmon's brain as dirty data so Jack could not convince him to help him hunt 'Kitty' for the units revenge. Jack carried on his career with Rarmon who went MIA presumed KIA during a major raid on a stormy night agaisnt some rebels who supported the hybrids. Jack almost left the unit but stayed but one day he woke from his 'sleep pod'. Finding the base dead taking himself to the control room he found video tapes of the camera showing his arch-enemy 'Kitty' killing everyone inside she had been so close he almost fell in upon himself about to collapse when he realised his chance he took his weapons and left the hunt had begun that was almost 5 years ago.

gulps

Jack is approved.

Fold him into the story when you think he would fit.


Great....as if Kitty didin't have her hands full enough already, now she's being hunted by another....dang it....LOL

it's all good!

Her name was Sin, at least that what they had called her. The ones who had taken her in or the ones who had made her, she didn't know. She had no memory of who she was or what she was. She could shift into a large, black wolf with silver tips on it's fur, but that was all she knew. That was why they called her Sin. She was an abomination.

Her hair was waist-length, thick, silky, and black with silver highlights. Her eyes were a golden amber, slightly tilted at the corners, her skin a golden brown. She wasn't real tall, only 5 ft. 4 inches, but she was toned and nimble. Her skin was clear, no blemishes, and she was slightly curvy.

They, the ones who had found her, had tried to kill her the first time she shifted in front of them. They had found her beaten in an alley in the ruins of an old town she didn't know nor remember. She had been with those people for not even 24 hours and upon waking, her eyes had turned an even lighter amber. Snarling at the people, she had shown canines that were longer than normal and slightly curved. Her rescuers looked upon her with fear and loathing as a growl came from her throat. "She's not one of us. She's from the labs," she had heard a woman say. She didn't know what that meant, but it didn't sound good. A club came down on her, almost breaking her arm. Before she knew what she was doing, she shifted in the large she-wolf and ran through the group of screaming people to the outside and fled into the night.

She ran until her heaving sides hurt. Stopping, she once more shifted back to her human half and lay there on the hard ground. Sitting up, she looks around, seeing rather well in the dark, but fearful of what she saw. It was strangely quiet here. Eerily quiet. What trees there were were mere shadows of what they once were. Shaking her head, she grasps it as the pain shoots through it while a memory tries to push to the suface. ~A cell, cold and gray. A steel slab to sleep on. A collar around her neck, choking her, being drug down a hall. The memory stops, her head feeling like it's split open. She lays there for a while, waiting for the pain to subside. Somehow, she knows the pain will leave her.
Sitting back up, she instinctively knows that she must find shelter, food, and clothing, and not necessarily in that order.

Rising shakily to her feet, she sniffs the air, and heads south to what she thinks is an abandoned town. Little did she know, but she was heading back to where she was found and she wasn't alone.

This Character is for Life after the Cataclysm before you all think im introducing a 3rd character so heres my character hope it gets approved

His name he had forgotten, he ‘stole’ his name from another calling himself Zack. He had one major memory a white room with a bright light. He had no memory of his identity or why he was a ‘hunter’ waking up at a ‘church’ as the monks had called it. He had found himself rather more agile and ‘youthful’ than his fellow monks he had watched at least 3 generations age in front of him. He had one aim in life hunt those who do not believe in the cross but the monks wore white ‘robes’ of stained bandages smelling of decays and something horrid at all times Zack kept his distance from being touched by their heavily bandaged ‘mittens’.

His hair is shoulder length pulled back in a ponytail, his hair the colour of jet black which did not sheen. His eyes were a silver colour with empty pupils having seen much, his skin was a plain white as snow the veins in the back of his hand easily seen. He was taller than the average man, being 6 ft. 5 inches; he had many pink livid scars lining his arms and mostly on all exposed skin his face having a dominant feature of a 4 clawed cut across from hairline to throat.

Zack had been found on the steps as a child they had raised him as a protector of the church he felt sick whenever he remembered even the ‘women’ smelled of the rancid decay. He had grown into a protector the church watched as he became a fighter his skills in weapons increasing but Zack learnt his true love, killing things with his bare hands. He knew he wasn’t human when one time at night he had been attacked by an oversized dog he had broken its neck but not before it had bitten him on the arm he had watched the whole night as his arm had healed before his eyes yet that very morning another dog had clawed at his face the reason for the 4 scars a valued lesson.

Standing over eight feet tall and weighing 650 pounds the lion mutant is a horrifying sight and in the harsh apocalyptic world most are quick to judge the beast as hostile. Those, however, who are able to brave his monstrous appearance see him for the gentle being he is and find him to be a soft spoken and understanding individual. Unlike many of his kind, Stasinus is able to talk, and is in fact quite well spoken although his raspy voice resembles a low growl most of the time.

He prizes knowledge and education above all else and among his most prized possessions are the ancients books salvaged by his adopted parents and gifted to him.

Stasinus' origins are unknown, his humanoid parents found him abandoned in the wilderness and despite his appearance and animal features could not leave him to die. They took him back to their underground community, a town of peaceful artisans and scholars hidden from the violent world above. Naturally the townsfolk were outraged when an abomination was brought into their gentle world but as he grew, Stasinus proved that he had a capacity for compassion that surpassed any of theirs and so he was accepted among them but always watched. Nurtured by a benevolent environment, the lion-mutant grew up learning to appreciate poetry, literature and music that were all taught to him by various members of the community. Never in twenty six years did he ever show a fang or draw a claw until intruders from the surface infiltrated their secret world and preyed upon the peaceful citizens. Seeing then with his own eyes what men could be capable of, Stasinus' judgement was swift and he descended upon them like a wild beast that had been starved for years. He tore them apart with claw and tooth and for the first time tasted blood and to his horror desired it's taste so much that he craved more. None were spared and the town was protected from the stories that any might have told to others of their kind. Stasinus had become a hero among the underground dwellers but when they went to congratulate them they found that the taste of blood had changed him. He had become agitated and unpredictable his temper quick and so the town was forced to make the difficult decision of what to do with their friend and protector but Stasinus realizing what he had become made the decision for them and left his home forever.

Abilities and Physiological Traits
Night Vision (Ultra-vision) and Infra-vision (Sensitivity to heat, allowing his eyes in total darkness to see thermally).
Heightened hearing and smell.
Empathy- A highly developed form of emotional communication and sense.
Retractable claws
Very agile despite his great size due to his strength.

Attitude and Moralities
Stasinus is a peaceful individual whose last resort in any situation is violence, preferring to remain civilized until there is no other choice and even then will try and avoid confrontation if possible.