Jack Tarion Jan 29, 2017 10:04:18 GMT -5
Post by Jack Tarion on Jan 29, 2017 10:04:18 GMT -5
Tarion; Jack; Meister
Name: Jack Tarion
Nickname: The Alpha
Class: One Star
A Strong Body
Picture:(Description till i finish the imagery) Jack stands at average height, his physique sleek and lean boasting a decent level of muscle designed to assert him at speed. His flesh is sun-kissed,a darker hue whilst his eyes reflect like that of ice; deep set and piercing. Jack's mane remains a deep red and drawn into a messy, spine like feature at the tips whilst his hands are confined by bandages up to his forearm. Donned about his back and sweeping past his knees is a white coat, leather in construction and torn at the shoulders to gain ease of movement. The man also wear bandages about his chest, white and tightly drawn across his frame. Baggy pants encompass his legs, jeans torn at the knees and two heavy black boots are worn on his feet, large black buckles occupy where laces would reside. The frame of Jack's complexion is narrow, taught and exposing his cheek bones whilst he'd boast an easy 5 o'clock shadow . Dotted about his right arm that's exposed is that of a Wolven tribal tattoo that winds about the limb vanishing beneath the bandages and scars decorate the frame of his throat, shaped as claws as though a beast had sought render him on time or another.
Fighting Style: Swift as you'd expect a predator to be, precised and an opportunist. Able to fight whilst low to the ground utilising his flexibility and dexterity to its fullest potential, rarely simply stood on his feet, Jack will often resort to more than fists using any part of him as a means to execute a vast array of manoeuvres design to keep his opponent guessing. Taking up the Horse stance and producing paws like talons, he'll strike with precision at vital areas such as the neck, joints, wounds, between the legs and hold nothing back in order to gain the advantage; his focus is unwavering and yet once his pride is injured the mans anger threatens the fragile balance this style requires.
Personality: Jack was a boy torn from comfort and thrust into a life empty of any form of devotion from a parent. Judging a book by it's cover was how you remained alive out on the streets and so Jack finds himself quick to judge a person, upon challenge against any for of interpretation he'll bite back and argue mute points simply to bolster himself; make him seem the Alpha Dog. As emotionally explosive as he is, he still holds a strong sense of honour which is, as always, challenged and thus renders him in a state of rage fairly soon on, rarely will he focus more upon execution of the combat and more on hurting his enemies as much as he can muster, be it via words or a straight jab to the face. Negative emotions of a more so personal nature are drawn deep and buried beneath a mountain of assumptions, judgement isn't taken well, failing is taken far worse as he'll often depress himself which spurs on further aggression and anger upon the moral of familiarity. friendships come rarely however he'll remain loyal to a fault, refusing to believe even his friends could do wrong and defeating any that speak against them, Jack is a loose cannon with a good heart, though fists like solid iron. Having been raised majoritively upon the streets, his will power to survive is the aspect he'd dote upon the most, wit and the inate ability to seek out trouble in all forms also collaborate with the context to which he is held; favouring the open doors for slumber to that of a bed in kind. Often you'll find him clambering up high to take a gander at the beauty of the laughing moon and stealing any amounts of food he can muster from any soul stupid enough to remain unguarded,
Inside the Soul
Souls: Blue = Human
red = Kishin
Purple = Witch
orange pulsing cross vein = Jack
Out of your Mind
Strengths: Dexterity, Stamina, Physically resilient
Weaknesses: Psychologically Weak, Intellectually inferior, Tactically inferior
Hobbies: Smoke, Train, Fish
Likes: Truthful souls, to out do everyone, to smoke
Dislikes: Liers, to lose, Boats
Aspirations: To Survive and become the perfect Hunter
A child known as Jack, born in Pennsylvania, the lad considered himself that of a strong soul, as most would of course; imagining himself as a pirate, Cowboy or thief. In honesty there was no real dedication to a form of craft despite his family adhering to the way of the Meister. With a Father, two older sisters and others involved entirely with the world of said job. It was a wonder but seemingly the boy preferred his Mother's homeliness to that of a weapon wielding, soul gathering soldier for Death and his ever changing appearance. The sad fact of such a dangerous line of work was that, sometimes the worst would come about.
It began gradual, a shift in the demeanour of his once cheerful Father, anger was quickly snatched into a conversation over the simplest things. Mother would speak of how it was merely stress, that heir Father was under a lot of pressure. However, Jack could peer unto the man he adored and see there was something a miss. This only worsened, the further he fell the darker their house hold became and soon Jack felt less than safe. No more were there games of an adventurous boy, replaced by fear and subordination under the psychologically addled father.
As with all things, cracks began to show beneath the strain, as night fell on the moment Jack could barely recall, red was all there was, walls and floors decorated in the crimson life of his family. Paralysed in shock, pierced by grief he slipped into a state of disbelief where his mind cornered off the painful memories to protect its self. that night his Father committed the murder of his bloodline and wife, uttering words profound and ludicrous to Jack as he strode out the door with a dark chuckle of amusement and bloodied scythe in hand.
From there lay as an absolute blur to the youth, he was eleven years old, homeless, parentless and to his knowledge; he knew not why. Fleeing his family home, his life and into hiding he descended unwilling to allow his Father a chance to discover him; he dread what he would do should he involved any form of authority and thus vanished. From deep within his thoughts came the prepubescent rage that would outline his persona for years to come. A small town it may have been but the homeless were few. The few who resided in such ways garnered a violent tenacity, it became apparent fairly early on that his fists would become the greatest asset he owned. With every insult came a fight, with every judgement came a rant, clashing head long with those about him Jack soon found himself dominated by a very primal way of living; survival of the fittest.
This of course came with a price tag, scars to this day litter him from witty escapes due to his natural ability to evade and use his dexterity to his advantage, by the age of fifteen he owned a fairly insidious name for himself. Blanketing his positivity with a venerable animal. Wit soon joined his rep, snarky comments earned by aggressive souls and kind ones alike. pity was beneath him both in application and offering thus friends were few and far between in kind.
A way he earned his food or coin came with battle, battle amongst those who enjoyed it and fed the gamblers who found their asses meeting the pavement due to over indulgence. There was no rhythm Jack new better than the cruelty of adults, most paid to see a beating and most of the time they were granted that. Jack suffered defeat to a steady point that he hated the concept. However, a singular moment in his life soon saw him approach another junction.
The air about him distorted and writhed, Jack himself sneered and placed his palm over his right eye; the pain had come back. For several years he'd get headaches and his vision would blur. Now it had become irritating, not that it hurt but even as he began to roar profanities in the street he couldn't understand what was happening. Upon opening his eyes he'd take note of the oddities that formed. Colours, shapes, no longer did the realm feel as it once was thus with a final elevation of his voice; the boy elaborated on the colours, he covered his eyes time after time and began to call out for various friends as to whom had spiked his water.
Approaching the startled teen, this soul questioned him, asked after the meaning of his irritable bellows. Jack was resistant, he averted his eyes and sneered an explanation of a shift in colours surrounding the people in the street. Of course, this adult coloured intrigued at the notion soon convinced the Teen to uptake a challenge. Accepting without dismissal, expecting a brawl, Jack obliged unknowingly following a Meister, not just any but a teacher to a particular school; one he'd soon enrol in at 15 after a discovery that he had inherited his families skill; but what more was to that?
Extra Notes:" I tend to make out that these creations aren't as sloppy as they appear, but there you,"
Behind the strings
Other characters: None
Face Claim: OC Work in progress
RP Sample: Blood coiled it's way down the boys chin like a morbid serpent, framing the length of it before falling at his feet. Quivering, shaking, his smaller frame drawn back to reveal young but lean muscles in order to regard his attacker. A stocky, well built man standing a foot or so above the younger lad. Drawing his jaw taught, Jack would thread a paw through his long mane, slanting the style and betraying a set of feral, ice blue eyes that interlocked with his target.
The attack was swift, drawing in low the younger boy fed a straight punch to which his opponent redirected with a palm. As his fist fed towards the concrete he'd splay the palm and capture himself. Supported by his girder of pale sun-kissed flesh there came a sudden switch as he'd twist his hips into a form of dance rotating his feet to the right and sweeping both heels out to the older mans ankles.
Down he fell, fumbled and retching in pain to the blow, however the young Wolf was yet to finish. Landing back a top all fours, the boy vented himself skywards with a bound seeking drive an elbow hard into the cretins kidneys; with a sickening boom silence would fall. Struggling, nursing his now damage arm Jack rose and with him came the cry of the crowd. Excitement lit that dingy hovel, grown men gathered in a circle passing their notes about; but Jack noticed one man staring at him and it sent chills down his spine.
Please write at least a three paragraph sample of your character.