Post by marius on Feb 13, 2013 2:01:53 GMT
MARIUS ARNOLD TEMMER !
’I’ll be the one that takes all the blame, going down, down in flames.’
’I’ll be the one that takes all the blame, going down, down in flames.’
HEY THERE! SO, TELL US ABOUT YOU ... LET'S START OFF WITH THE BASICS. WHAT DO WE NEED TO KNOW?
“Well aren’t you a nosey one? Butter me up with questions like I’m sort of celebrity to get some information out of me, eh? You’re lucky that I’m a sucker for that. Hm, the basics? Well, my name is Marius Arnold Temmer, some people call me Mari, that’s not pronounced Mary, call me that and you’ll have to worry about more than just losing the interview. Believe it or not, I’m forty-two, I’d like to think I look younger but age doesn’t matter to me. Clearly I’m male, I mean really, was there any question? My taste in love, hm, it all depends really, I’ve been known to dabble here and there, guess the kids today call it Bi-sexual or something like that. I suppose you want the real juicy information, I mean, you don’t look like you’re here to just put me on your top ten most good looking men you randomly stop on the street, although I’m flattered. I’m a werewolf, that’s right, a moon howling, fang bearing, human hunting werewolf. That’s right, human hunting, I don’t really care for those bastards, so I guess that makes me on the Dark side huh? Heh, I’m not all bad though. “
SO, A LITTLE BIRDY TOLD ME THAT YOU ARE GORGEOUS. DESCRIBE YOURSELF.
“Well, ain’t that a sweet little bird? Hm, I’ve been told that I resemble this actor named Robert Downey Jr., he’s not the worst looking guy out there so I guess I don’t really mind. My eyes are brown, as is my hair, seems boring but I promise the rest of my attributes really bring it home. My hair is actually short, the longest bit is about halfway down my neck, but it’s thick so it always seems like there’s a lot more. I get a lot of compliments about my hair, amongst other things. I’m about 5’9”, a little on the shorter side of things I guess, but whatever. Last I checked I was around 165? I’m a little bit on the thinner, less muscular side when it comes to my race. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not petite or anything, but I’m not really bulky, you know what I mean? I’m pretty detailed, you can see my muscle tone in my arms and torso, hell, I’ve got at least a five-and-a-half pack going! My legs are pretty muscular though, I use to do a lot of sports when I was younger, so there’s my muscle. Hmmm, anything distinguishing? I guess my facial hair? It’s kinda like my trademark, mainly since no one can grow it like I can. You like it? It’s a bit of a pain to keep it trimmed so that the beard stays thin and parallel to the ends of my lips, and I have to trim the center without managing to cut my bottom lip, but it’s worth it. My style? Eh, I guess it’s considered corporate casual? I like to look nice, usually throw on a nice blazer, I don’t know, maybe a tie if I’m really trying to impress. If I’m lazy it’s usually a black or gray long sleeved shirt and a comfortable pair of jeans that make my hind parts look nice, you know, gotta work what you got. I do have a tattoo though, right here on my chest, it’s the mark of my family’s pack, one of those stupid, headstrong and prideful things I guess every teenage boy gets these days.”
I'M SURE YOUR PERSONALITY IS SOMETHING ELSE COMPLETELY. TELL US ABOUT YOURSELF, WE WANT TO KNOW YOU BETTER!
[/b]? … is this a bedroom question? Oh, erm, sorry. Well, I’d say I’m probably more naughty than I am nice, being nice requires effort and some days I’m just too lazy to try.
“My personality is a gem! Can’t you tell? Pfft, heh, well, hm, I like jogging and running, especially in the rain, hmmm, I’m a bit of an adrenaline junkie, I do enjoy a good bar fight every now and again. Hunting, but that’s a given, I mean, helllooo, werewolf! But I like it because that’s something my father and I use to do together, I like snow too because it reminds me of my childhood, bonfires too, you know, keep the past alive or whatever.
I hateee peppermint, the taste, the scent, it’s makes me want to vomit, total turnoff. Boats, yeah, no to boats, have you seen Titanic? Yeah, I think not, I want nothing to do with anything that can sink. I hate frickin Shifters… I guess that’s more jealousy than hate though… it must be nice to be able to control when you change… and control yourself during it, lucky bastards. Please no perfume, there’s a girl over there that’s wearing just a spritz of it and it’s already giving me a headache, don’t get me started on the guy that walked by twenty minutes ago, I could track him with a cold, in the pouring rain, ugh. Cliché probably, but I hate responsibility, I’ve never been real good at handling it, so I kinda turn tail to it… no pun intended
I’m claustrophobic, so I’m terrified of being in any real tight spaces, no trains, no planes, no cabs, no elevators, that kinda thing. I’m also, you know, the moon and all; I’d be willing to admit fear to that.
Well, my race is a strength of mine, that’s a given. But I’d like to think my ego works too, heh, it doesn’t me listen to people who tell me I can’t do something. You’d never guess but I’m also a real nice guy, I hate that I am but I can’t turn people away, I guess in some ways its strength.
My addiction to cherry flavored cigars and liquor has to be a weakness of mine. Kids too, I’ve always wanted them, but I could never pass on this curse so willingly. My size is a weakness too, I don’t favor my odds against a bigger, well, anything.
I’ve got some real nasty habits , besides the smoking and drinking. I’m really organized, I can’t function in clutter so I’m constantly trying to make things perfect, and sometimes it even bothers me when people themselves are a mess. I run, a lot, morning, noon and night, if I’m ever upset or irritated I just run off, travel a few miles and back, it’s relaxing.
A secret of mine? We’re getting all into the juicy information here. …. I have a book in my library, in there are handprints, mine, but the blood used to make them doesn’t belong to me. I then write the names of people who die from “dog/bear/animal” attacks from that night. It’s like a scoreboard, except when it’s not the humans, and then it’s a guilty reminder.
I desire more than anything else to be able to control myself in my greater form. I don’t want to ever not be a werewolf; I’m proud of what I am, I just want control.
I’ve been told I’m like a father figure to other people. And I’m a bit more protective over those who I’m actually fond of more than I probably need to be. Yeah, I’m that “I’m willing to go back to jail” or “Full moons out tomorrow” kind of guy. To humans, I’m usually cold, rude, a classic asshole, because that’s all they deserve from me.
My family and I don’t talk much these days. Most of them are in the ground but my mother is still alive, she doesn’t usually have nice things left to say to me though, it’s a complicated subject.
My view on life? I mean, I’m not getting any younger so I do what I want when I want to, without breaking the law, I’m not a brute. If I see something I want, I work for it, if I see something I want to do, I do it. I’m the only one who controls what happens to me, the rest of just coincidence.
Religion, ugh, stupid nonsense if you ask me. But I’ll fight for your right to worship whatever you want as long as you pay me the kindness to not bother me with it.
Now, see, the war is pointless. But this is the problem with mankind, they are pathetic creatures, when threatened by something they do not understand they mean to destroy it. We will never live side by side with humans even if we wanted to, we can never forgive the family, friends and pack members they stole from us, and I personally only promise to take ten times the amount they took from me.
Heh, topic change eh? Sorry, [n]naughty or nice
The bedroom question got you stirred up huh? Haha! Romantic or Brooding ? I’ll go with romantic, I am a sucker for romance, not getting it as much as giving it. Don’t get me wrong, I like relationships and all that mushy stuff, but there’s something about someone having their breath taken away by something you’ve done that really does the ol’ ego some good. “
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I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR ABOUT YOUR HISTORY ... I'M SURE IT WILL BE INTRUIGING!
“I was afraid you’d bother me about this, and to be honest it’s not a topic I’m particularly open to sharing, so if you’ll swear to keep your mouth shut I guess I can tell you my story. Just this once.
I guess we’ll start with my parents, I was born March 1st to Janessa and Arnold Temmer, I was the youngest of three sons, my brothers were Jace and Leon; Jace being the eldest, thirteen at my birth and Leon being the middle child at five. My “family“ itself was very large, six “aunts”, nine “uncles”, more cousins than I can actually remember, every season it seemed someone was pregnant or having another child, but I guess that’s what makes a good clan, lots of members. They were all just names and faces; I didn’t really have time to get to know too many of them personally. My father was the alpha male, and naturally it would progress to my brother Jace, then his son and on and on unless something happened to him, then Leon would be the next alpha ….then me.
We were a typical upper middle class family from the outside looking in, my mother stayed at home, my father was a professor at the nearby university, teaching mythology and feeding the supernatural to the human’s brains with hopes that one day they’d learn to accept us and leave us be. But humans didn’t listen, they never do. My father was discovered by one of his students, some stupid girl who found him a bit too interesting and stalked him relentlessly, we know she was there, she always smelt like peppermint. My father wanted us to put trust in her, if she saw how normal we were as a family then she’d see that we were nothing to be feared, until the full moon came. I remember back then I could look up at the moon and not be terrified, the change hadn’t claimed me yet.
But that night my mother took myself and Leon down into the basement while my father and eldest brother changed; the three went out and hunted, just like we all do. They ended up killing that little stalker, she had it coming, following three werewolves after they had changed, but low and behold, her father happened to be a Hunter. I didn’t think of it much but that day had seemed a bit different than the others. My mother, father and Jace were so jumpy at breakfast, I had dropped my fork onto my plate and they jumped from their seats in a panic. I was young, only eight at the time; I was more occupied with trying to find a way to not go to school that morning. I never would have guessed that bastard would show up at my father’s job and shoot him dead between the eyes with a silver bullet, then hunt my brother down do the same.
My mother was never quite the same after that, I don’t blame her, I don’t think any of us were. My brother Leon became the next Alpha, and even though he was young, a mere thirteen, with the other werewolves assisting him, he was shaping to be like our father. Life seemed to go back to normal after that, years passed and Leon led the clan without fail. But I’m convinced there are no happy endings anymore, life never stays good for too long. My brother died when I was sixteen, his death still remains a mystery, he was found in the woods with a silver collar strapped on his neck and silver sewing needles in his shoulders and torso.
So it was to be my turn now, I was next in line to lean the clan. I was nothing like my father or brothers, I didn’t want the responsibility, I feared it….. so I ran. …. I…. I ran. I ended up wandering for a couple of years, blending in with other clans that took pity on such a young rouge once they had heard of my family’s death. When I was eighteen I settled in a small apartment with the help of one of the clans, working my ass off to make a life for myself. The rest is history, I’m financially stable, living alone in a much nicer apartment than before, and am still haunted by the guilt of my actions every single day.
Needless to say I rarely speak to them anymore, any of the “family” really. They probably wouldn’t want to talk to me anyway. Who would want to talk to a traitor?”
AH, AND WHO IS THIS AMAZING MASTERMIND BEHIND THE LIKES OF YOU?
Hello! I’m Ez (not pronounced “easy”, chatspeak has ruined my name). I’m twenty years old and I found this lovely site on Caution. This is my first character on this site. I’m in the EST time zone. And I’m a Leapyear baby, which is one of the only really interesting facts about me.
Marius snored quietly, lying naked on hardwood floor of his living room. There was blood on him again, his finger tips and left palm, his neck had specks from the bite of whoever he maimed last night. But he was in a blissful dream, until the sun peered through his window and disrupted any chance at further rest. He groaned, his body aching and his head pounding, he didn’t have to ask himself what happened last night, it was always the same thing, and he never would remember. The man forced himself up, mumbling curses as his body seemed to refuse.
He looked to his hand, the blood that was on it was not his own, he had taken another life; no one ever seemed to escape from a werewolf unless the werewolf wanted it. There was a silence, his mind quiet for once and the world seemed to stand still, it wasn’t hard for him to accept this, he had killed someone, but since he had no control, he wouldn’t think of it too much. Instead he went to the bathroom, gently dripping a few drops of water on his hand before making his way to his study. It was by no means a grand room, just a second bedroom he decided to use for a different purpose, it wasn’t like he would ever be expecting company. Marius thumbed along the books on his shelf, stopping at one of his Father’s old textbooks, sighing a bit before grabbing the one beside it. It was a thick book with ruined pages, with his clean hand he opened it, flipping to the next available page before placing his soiled hand on the fresh page.
“And another one bites the dust.”
Marius said quietly to himself, chuckling at his musings. With the print drying, he went to properly wash, scrubbing any trace of his victim’s existence from his being. With a towel around his waist, the werewolf grabbed the book, a pen and the remote to the television in his living room. Now he would investigate another animal attack victim? He needed a name for his handprint.
“Last night, officers confirmed the body of James Tillop, age thirty-three. Officials say he had been jogging last night around ten thirty when attacked by a vicious animal. The bite and claw marks found on the victim’s body are that of a dog but the wounds almost appear bear like. Animal control is now searching the woods for this creature.”
“James Tillllop.”
Marius said, letting the name dance off his tongue as he scribbled it down next to the handprint. It was nothing against Mr. Tillop, but he should really know not to go running during a full moon, especially at night. With a dull smack, the book closed and Marius rose from the couch to go get ready for his morning run, chuckling at the irony that he had just showered and was planning on getting sweaty all over again.
“Searching the woods for this creature, hah! I’m big foot now I guess.”
He looked to his hand, the blood that was on it was not his own, he had taken another life; no one ever seemed to escape from a werewolf unless the werewolf wanted it. There was a silence, his mind quiet for once and the world seemed to stand still, it wasn’t hard for him to accept this, he had killed someone, but since he had no control, he wouldn’t think of it too much. Instead he went to the bathroom, gently dripping a few drops of water on his hand before making his way to his study. It was by no means a grand room, just a second bedroom he decided to use for a different purpose, it wasn’t like he would ever be expecting company. Marius thumbed along the books on his shelf, stopping at one of his Father’s old textbooks, sighing a bit before grabbing the one beside it. It was a thick book with ruined pages, with his clean hand he opened it, flipping to the next available page before placing his soiled hand on the fresh page.
“And another one bites the dust.”
Marius said quietly to himself, chuckling at his musings. With the print drying, he went to properly wash, scrubbing any trace of his victim’s existence from his being. With a towel around his waist, the werewolf grabbed the book, a pen and the remote to the television in his living room. Now he would investigate another animal attack victim? He needed a name for his handprint.
“Last night, officers confirmed the body of James Tillop, age thirty-three. Officials say he had been jogging last night around ten thirty when attacked by a vicious animal. The bite and claw marks found on the victim’s body are that of a dog but the wounds almost appear bear like. Animal control is now searching the woods for this creature.”
“James Tillllop.”
Marius said, letting the name dance off his tongue as he scribbled it down next to the handprint. It was nothing against Mr. Tillop, but he should really know not to go running during a full moon, especially at night. With a dull smack, the book closed and Marius rose from the couch to go get ready for his morning run, chuckling at the irony that he had just showered and was planning on getting sweaty all over again.
“Searching the woods for this creature, hah! I’m big foot now I guess.”
