E-Mail: [email protected]
*IM: Pr0n for Pandas
*Birthday: 07/31
Character Sheet:
Name:
Donald Cleese (Mocks-The-Enlightened, Don, Moxy, Mocks)
Race:
Garou (That's a Werewolf you ninnies)
Garou Affiliation:
Black Spiral Dancer
Age:
22
Description:
Donald isn't a very intimidating man, he doesn't stand much taller than five and a half feet, and his thinly-muscular frame isn't anything that a heavier set man would see as threatening. For all purposes he looks like a somewhat malnourished individual who happens to spend a bit of time keeping in shape. The kind of body you'd expect some burnt out crackhead having. His face is ever hidden behind a military issue gas-mask he picked up when he was a bit younger, both for the purpose of concealing his horribly disfigured visage and as an amazingly wonderful fashion statement. Past the mask is a wild tangle of red he likes to refer to as his hair which looks as if it was cut by a blind, one-armed barber. He has only two distinguishing marks which he enjoys sporting openly, the first is a solid black tribal tattoo upon his left shoulder, and the second are his fingers, which end in sharp cat-like claws.
Personality:
An avid follower of Erisian practitions, Mock's personality can seem somewhat eccentric at times. However, boiling deep beneath the surface is a cauldron of hatred for all who stand in his way. He holds a strong belief in the 'out of sight, out of mind' principle, and rarely hunts down those who cross his path the wrong way. However those who get him riled and remain in his presence often recieve the short end of the stick in this game we call life.
Background:
Born to a rape victim in the 80's, Donald was abandoned by his biological mother and stuck in an orphanage. He had always had a mean streak which didn't allow him to function properly wiht the other kids, along with certain other deformaties that further ostracized him. Due to his nature, he never found a successful foster home, he was simply too much to deal with for the parents who attempted him. Given the situation, he grew up rather unhappy with his situation. By the age of 14 he had ran away from the orphanage and was living as a street rat in Atlanta.
A year later he was just as miserable as he had ever been, but he was free to do whatever he pleased which brought with it a shred of happiness. On a cold October people typically know as halloween, he experienced the first touch of his lycanthropy. What was once a gangly young teenage boy biding his time to his next meal was now a hulking monstrosity of death, a true embodiment of death. The time directly afterwards was all black, he remembered nothing of it when he awoke the next morning in a strange place.
The building in question was a condemned apartment building which was used as communal living quarters by some of the local homeless. I had always been home to some rather rough individuals, so Don had stayed away from it. It turned out that it was actually the center of operations for the local tribe of Black Spiral Dancers, who adopted him into their ranks after he massacred a group of children that first night of his transformation. For him, the tribe was the greatest thing he'd ever belonged to, people who shared his outlook on life, people who didn't judge him based on his appearance, and people who shared his hatred for everyone else.
He quickly developed a strong bond with one of the tribal shaman who was instructed to teach donald all he needed to know of the world of darkness which was now his oyster. He was taught of the three controlling spiritual powers, to control his transformations at will, and various abilities which his formed granted him. For five years he learned with the shaman, and quickly excelled well past the rest of the pupils, he had obviously found the true favor of the wyrm and was granted powers which some of the eldest tribe members had rarely seen in their years.
With such a reputation, it was no wonder that he was given a quest to prove himself worthy of these gifts. He had been told to retrieve an artifact of great importance from the old countries, one which could possibly eradicate the entire garou population in North America, provided they weren't under the wyrm's favor. Without Hesitation, Don (now known as Mocks-the-Enlightened) tracked down a spirit who could give him a clue as to the location of this artifact. After 'convincing' the spirit it's best interests were to tell him the information, he boarded a plane to England with a phoney identity and false passport.
Abilities:
-Natural
Ability to shift into the five basic garou forms.
-Homid
Master of Fire, Jam Technology, Staredown, Cocoon, Assimilation, Part the Veil.
-Ragabash
Blur of the Milky Eye, Open Seal, Blissful Ignorance, Taking the Forgotten, Open Moon Bridge, Luna's Blessing
-BSD
Rat Head, Sense Wyrm, Toxic Claws, Ears of the Bat, Patagia, Wyrm Hide, Foaming Fury, Crawling Poison, Doppleganger, Avatar of the Wyrm, Mask Taint.
-Rites
Rite of Binding, Rite of Talisman Dedication.
Weapons:
Whatever's handy, preffering long bludgeoning objects.
