- Jack -

[three]

Out Of Character

What would you liked to be called?:
Lu
Are you over the age of 13?:
Yuppers
Have you read and understood all the rules?:
Yup

In Character

Name:
Jack
Age:
26 (789)
Gender:
Male
Species:
Night Crawler
Special Power:
Telepathy

Father:
Unknown
Mother:
Unknown
Sibling/s:
Unknown
Partner:
None

Appearance:
Jack looks like your typical Native American male; tall, standing at around 6’2”, and lean. There’s not an ounce of spare fat in his body. His skin is the dark, reddish bronze characteristic to his people and, like all other Night Crawlers, he is physically unblemished. His raven-black hair is long, reaching the middle of his back, and is worn loose all year long. His eyes are dark brown, almost black, and are constantly narrowed into what seems like a glare. He has a broad forehead and high, defined cheekbones that give his face an angular look to it. Outside of annoyance or anger, there are rarely any other emotional changes to his expression.

Even though it’s been centuries since the last Apache walked about the earth, Jack still keeps to his bloodline’s traditions, at least when it comes to his appearance. He goes around topless regardless of the season and weather, and is also barefoot most of the time. A pair of buckskin leggings is the only clothing he wears and even these are fashioned crudely so they serve next to no purpose at all. Everything about him is tan or brown in color, monochromes. On his right arm, near his shoulder, is a tattoo of an eagle feather he had done for him a few years later returning to the city. The bright white and blue combination is the only touch of color to his whole form.

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No bigger than 300 high x 530 wide px Signature Image:
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Personality:
Somber and antisocial would be best to describe him. He doesn’t associate with others, Crawlers or not, and it’s unlikely that he ever will. Unlike his fellows, he is not vain, neither is he conniving or coveting. He hates everyone, especially other vampires, and often holds grudges. If provoked, Jack can become quite a ferocious demon. He doesn’t discriminate so he could care less who gets killed and who survives; if it gets in his way, then it dies, that’s the general rule of thumb. On his better days, he’s simply remote and distant. He won’t talk to you, but at least he won’t snap your head off for anything you say. All in all, a very unpleasant person to be around and certainly one that is better left alone.

Being a telepath allows him at least one redeeming point personality-wise and that is his ability to understand what others are feeling. He doesn’t intentionally enter the minds of the people around him, but neither does he care if he does hear their thoughts and emotions. The only problem with this is that though he can be empathetic, Jack is incapable of being sympathetic. He is not one to show any compassion, kindness, pity, or anything along those lines. The most he’ll do is withdraw himself from that personnel’s mind and leave them to suffer whatever it is they are dealing with in peace. He has no interest in getting involved with others’ affairs.

If you’re wondering whether or not there’s even a possibility of a better person beneath all the bitterness, then the answer would have to be no, there’s not…at least, none that anyone living has had the chance to witness. Like everything on this planet, Jack has multiple sides to him, so there is a more positive face of his buried down deep, somewhere, waiting for someone to come along and dredge it back up again. But so far, no one has succeeded and so, it’s considered that he does not possess such a side. Who knows, maybe someday he’ll learn to love once more.

Strengths:
- Empathy
- Smart/Agile mind
- Lying
- Logical
Weaknesses:
- Bitter/Hateful
- Easily annoyed
- Moody
- Quick to anger, slow to calm
- Lack of sympathy

Mental Health:
Slightly insane (blame the amnesia)
Likes:
- Solitude
- Reading
- Quiet moments
Dislikes:
- Conversing
- Irritating people
- Other Night Crawlers
- Loud noises
- Mentions of his past

Past:
(He’s got a severe case of amnesia so he can’t remember his past – reason why he gets so ticked when it’s brought up around him – so he wouldn’t be able to tell any of this if asked. But, since I’m the creator, I’ll give the brief of his history.)

There’s not much to tell about his life before being turned really. He never knew his parents to begin with since he was stolen from their home after birth. By whom, no one knows, but he ended up an orphan from that day onwards. Born Massai Juh, he was your average human guy, living on his own, when he happened to stumble upon a Night Crawler out in the woods. The reservation where he’d stayed at was one of the few remaining ones for Apache Indians like him, and it was quickly being demolished like its fellows. This meant that the security around the place was extremely lax and any man bold enough could slip out at night, completely unnoticed. Massai was one of them, and it would be to his own demise that he ran, as he soon found out. After shirking the fence that enclosed the ‘camp’ and making it into the forest, he’d settled in for the night, not thinking that he’d encounter anything dangerous out in the dense woods. He was awakened not long after by the sound of running footsteps coming his way; running too fast to be a human, he had time to think before he was ambushed by a hulking figure cloaked in black. A flash of white teeth, displayed in a grin, was all he could make out of his attacker. And thus began his end as a normal person.

For some reason, his body reacted to the Crawler venom in a peculiar way. It tried to reject the foreign substance and in the process, his memories were wiped clean. When he woke up again, he was still where he’d been the night before, but now he couldn’t recall anything that happened beyond the past 12 or so hours. Panicked, Massai ran off further into the wilderness where he’d pass the next 3 or so decades of his life in solitude. When he reemerged in civilization, he was entirely changed, no longer the man he’d been 30 years ago. The wild had done its work in carving him into a lean killer, well adapted to harsh living; the vampire blood coursing through his system also lent into creating a very efficient killing machine. He’d been living off of animals to begin with, never tasting human blood before and it’s something he intends to keep a habit. The amnesia, unfortunately, failed to erase his memories of his Turning and he holds an eternal grudge against the Night Crawlers, refusing to fall so low as to hunt at their standards. He is forever on the prowl for the man who changed him, determined to hunt him down and kill the bastard himself. And it was that pursuit which led him to the Night Crawler Coven.

Massai was a loner since his childhood; he never joined the other kids in their romps and make-believe fights, preferring to keep to his own little corner and ignore the rest of the world. As an adult, he was no different. So when it came to joining the Coven, he was more than unwilling as it went against his nature, having to incorporate himself with a bunch of blood-suckers. But join he had to since this would provide him with a wide range of possibilities when it came to tracking the Crawler he’d encountered in the woods long ago. His current name Jack he got when the other vampires realized he couldn’t’ recall anything beyond his Turning. Well they had to call him something, so they came up with a generic once; Jack. It was an easy name and though it obviously wasn’t Native American in any way, shape, or form, it was the best he got.

(( Argh! It’s not four paragraphs I know, but I seriously can’t think of anything else to add to his profile! >< ))

Sample Post:
(( Ancient post… ))

She smelled cat. And not just any normal cat, a jaguar. Naomi blinked through the thick tangle of gold and black that was her hair and tried to decipher just who it was she was getting the scent from. If it had been one of the domestic animals, then there was no cause for alarm, but one was not likely to find a large, predatory feline like a jaguar wandering the streets as a pet. True the city held many strange phenomenons that would be otherwise unheard of in any other part of the state, but she had a feeling jaguars did not fall under even that category. Which meant that whatever she was smelling was either a Were-Cat, or a Shifter.

Of course, it would be her bad luck to run into yet another full blooded Were-Cat so soon; that would make for three encounters in one day already. Even if it was a Shifter, her situation was just as bad as ever. 'And this one just had to be a male one as well...' she sighed, pondering her fortune. What god had she angered in the past to deserve this sort of stress? So early in the day too...The young half-blood girl was thoroughly tired of running, having already raced, sprinting at full speed, away from two other Cats that morning, and was in no mood to put up yet another chase. Not that her legs would have been able to put up with any more pressure on them for another hour or so. If trouble really did sniff her out - and it tended to do that quite often - then the predator would find its prey a very easy target.

Naomi pulled her knees in closer to her body and curled into a defensive ball behind a dumpster, not that such a tactic would do much good if she were found. True she did still have her fangs and claws, but she didn't know jack about how to use those in a fight. The most her teeth did was help her tear through meat during a meal, and her fingers had never once been exposed to the light of day; at least, not in a long time. Now, she tugged nervously at her long sleeves, her hands' motions muted by the rough fabric that coated them like a second skin, and wished once more that she hadn't left her den. Better trapped and safe than free and hunted. For all she knew, this new threat could be one of the guys her Grandfather was now constantly accosting her with. 'I knew I shouldn't have gone out today, I just knew it.' she cursed to herself, withdrawing even further into the shadows. 'Granddaddy really is bent on killing me; well I hope he's happy after this...'

A pair of feet crunched past her hiding place, and Naomi cringed back instinctively. It wasn't until she'd determined they were not the source of the jaguar scent that she relaxed her tense posture. Maybe the Were-Beast or Shifter would go away, head in the opposite direction, disappear into another part of the alleys and never cross her path again. Or maybe they'd slowly advance towards where she crouched in the dark, and make an easy kill of yet another half-breed wandering the streets. She sighed; this was going to be a long wait.

[WaT]

Accepted! Welcome to Under Ground