Post by Phraxius on Aug 14, 2008 15:41:21 GMT -5
Name: Phraxius Decimus Venator
Gender: Male
Age: 2079
Appearence:
Category (vampire, werewolf, human): Original Werewolf
Hometown: Lucinium
Family:
FATHER: Lucius Recinius Cato
MOTHER: Flavius Ferenia Cato
SIBLINGS: None
Strengths & Weaknesses: Super-human Strength, Agility and senses. Very, very experienced. Bad temper, easily goaded and aversion to sunlight
Personality: Phrax is hard to describe. His original personality can be described as stubborn, quick to rage, careless, foolish and indecisive. But 2000 years have changed this. He is now careful, determined and planning. He has a unique callous cunning that has allowed him to survive for so long against Cassius. He hates with a cruel and deep power, that means little can stop him.
History: Phrax started off as the tough, bullying son of a Roman Governor. He grew up in a comfortable lifestyle, and he often used his money and power to torture his friends. Once, he and a group of boys stripped a boy naked and left him to rot, tied to a post, in the local slums. The boy came back unable to do walk or talk properly, let alone work. The father sought compensation from Phraxius' father, but the entire family mysteriously disapeared during the night. This happened before Phrax hit the age of 10.
For, then, puberty broke in. His hair knew no bounds to growing, and he often got into fights. But it was what happened upon the full moon that terrified him.
He would wake up in a forest, or in a sewer, covered in blood. Disapearances became more common.
For 10 years, he lived with this. Only a milennia later would he learn how he got this bloody heritage.
For when Phraxius was 19, a man and beginning to decide on his career, hopefully a Tribune in the Legions, a band of men came to his villa, and massacred his family. But Phraxius had been away, bullying and beating yet again. He found his mother and father's throat ripped to shreds, and the eviscerated remnants of 6 Assassins.
He was forced to join the Legions as a common man, but his massive strength, reflexes and damn good education allowed him to survive and soar through the ranks. His natural ethnity for bullying came in handy as a Centurion. But when he reached 50, after re-enlisting, and he showed no signs of aging, he was forced to flee, and become a sewer rat of Rome.
During these times, he had survived at the full moon in the army by taking long walks away from camp, simply telling his superiors he had been scouting. But now, his form was his strength. He dominated Rome's underbelly, only emerging when the Visigoths sacked
He lived like this for 400 years, and then fled Rome. He travelled the known world 4 times over, and then the unkown world 6 times. He avoided literally thousands of attempts on his life.
For it was he who brutally beat Caius nearly too dearth, deep in Venice during the 700s. He barely survived the cullings by spending massive amounts of time in the Black Forest
These days, he is simply a wanderer, angry at his race's ruthless plight and nurses a fierce hatred for Vampires.
RP sample:
The silvery winds of the harbour blew over the pristine Venitian docks. They were surrounded by magnificent houses that brought back memories of Lucinium to Phrax. But he did not much care to him. He simply looked at the body beneath him, as if the piercing volume of his eyes could will his kin back to living. But no. The Lycanthrope was dead as the wood that floated in from the shattered ships of the coast. It might break the heart of another man, but this was just another one. No. Not 'just' another one. It was a member of his kind persecuted and hunted. It was almost unbearable.
Phrax clenched his fist, his claw-like nails digging into his palm. Blood trickled to the floor insignificantly, but the man was deaf to it, the pain and the figure stepped up the docks towards him. Only Rage filled him.
But then he heard the voice. A voice he would come to hate with a viciously intense passion.
"Another wretch dead. You Beasts. Deserve your fate."
How he knew the identity of Phrax and the dead Lycan at his feet, the now-ancient Wolf did not know. But he knew the deathly wisp of a Vampire's voice.
"Arrogance is not a virtue. Much rather a Beast with a heart then a 'Pire with a chunk of rock."
"Let's take that heart from you, shall we?"
Racial Details: My idea of the original werewolf is the classic one. Pretty much a Wolf on two legs at the full-moon, superhuman abilities everyother time.
Gender: Male
Age: 2079
Appearence:
Category (vampire, werewolf, human): Original Werewolf
Hometown: Lucinium
Family:
FATHER: Lucius Recinius Cato
MOTHER: Flavius Ferenia Cato
SIBLINGS: None
Strengths & Weaknesses: Super-human Strength, Agility and senses. Very, very experienced. Bad temper, easily goaded and aversion to sunlight
Personality: Phrax is hard to describe. His original personality can be described as stubborn, quick to rage, careless, foolish and indecisive. But 2000 years have changed this. He is now careful, determined and planning. He has a unique callous cunning that has allowed him to survive for so long against Cassius. He hates with a cruel and deep power, that means little can stop him.
History: Phrax started off as the tough, bullying son of a Roman Governor. He grew up in a comfortable lifestyle, and he often used his money and power to torture his friends. Once, he and a group of boys stripped a boy naked and left him to rot, tied to a post, in the local slums. The boy came back unable to do walk or talk properly, let alone work. The father sought compensation from Phraxius' father, but the entire family mysteriously disapeared during the night. This happened before Phrax hit the age of 10.
For, then, puberty broke in. His hair knew no bounds to growing, and he often got into fights. But it was what happened upon the full moon that terrified him.
He would wake up in a forest, or in a sewer, covered in blood. Disapearances became more common.
For 10 years, he lived with this. Only a milennia later would he learn how he got this bloody heritage.
For when Phraxius was 19, a man and beginning to decide on his career, hopefully a Tribune in the Legions, a band of men came to his villa, and massacred his family. But Phraxius had been away, bullying and beating yet again. He found his mother and father's throat ripped to shreds, and the eviscerated remnants of 6 Assassins.
He was forced to join the Legions as a common man, but his massive strength, reflexes and damn good education allowed him to survive and soar through the ranks. His natural ethnity for bullying came in handy as a Centurion. But when he reached 50, after re-enlisting, and he showed no signs of aging, he was forced to flee, and become a sewer rat of Rome.
During these times, he had survived at the full moon in the army by taking long walks away from camp, simply telling his superiors he had been scouting. But now, his form was his strength. He dominated Rome's underbelly, only emerging when the Visigoths sacked
He lived like this for 400 years, and then fled Rome. He travelled the known world 4 times over, and then the unkown world 6 times. He avoided literally thousands of attempts on his life.
For it was he who brutally beat Caius nearly too dearth, deep in Venice during the 700s. He barely survived the cullings by spending massive amounts of time in the Black Forest
These days, he is simply a wanderer, angry at his race's ruthless plight and nurses a fierce hatred for Vampires.
RP sample:
The silvery winds of the harbour blew over the pristine Venitian docks. They were surrounded by magnificent houses that brought back memories of Lucinium to Phrax. But he did not much care to him. He simply looked at the body beneath him, as if the piercing volume of his eyes could will his kin back to living. But no. The Lycanthrope was dead as the wood that floated in from the shattered ships of the coast. It might break the heart of another man, but this was just another one. No. Not 'just' another one. It was a member of his kind persecuted and hunted. It was almost unbearable.
Phrax clenched his fist, his claw-like nails digging into his palm. Blood trickled to the floor insignificantly, but the man was deaf to it, the pain and the figure stepped up the docks towards him. Only Rage filled him.
But then he heard the voice. A voice he would come to hate with a viciously intense passion.
"Another wretch dead. You Beasts. Deserve your fate."
How he knew the identity of Phrax and the dead Lycan at his feet, the now-ancient Wolf did not know. But he knew the deathly wisp of a Vampire's voice.
"Arrogance is not a virtue. Much rather a Beast with a heart then a 'Pire with a chunk of rock."
"Let's take that heart from you, shall we?"
Racial Details: My idea of the original werewolf is the classic one. Pretty much a Wolf on two legs at the full-moon, superhuman abilities everyother time.
Lol j/k!