Post by dissidiarequiem on Sept 17, 2009 18:18:19 GMT -7
† Pankraz - Orel - Reinhold †
†Kraz†
[/center]† General Information †
Full Name: Pankraz Orel Reinhold
Nicknames: Kraz
Gender: Male
Race: Werewolf
Age: 67
Age they appear: 23
Orientation: Straight
Mental Problems: Anger Issues
† Personality †
Basic Personality: Kraz is hardly an open book. In fact, the male is much more likened to a closed book with a lock on it. Getting close to him is next to impossible, and most of what people know is what they see. Raw anger, mixed with passionate rage, mixed with sadistic glee. Truly, the male only seems to be really happy when he's making someone else truly unhappy---normally from being fed their own teeth. By far, the male isn't truly leader material in the sense of being charismatic, or intelligent...He passes, but his strength lies in fists and fear. Rule is by the strong, so he amasses those weaker than him under him, to carry out the task of thinning out the even weaker. A horrible job, but someone has to spill the blood.
Likes:
† Pain
† Giving Pain
† Breaking Vampire Necks
† Breaking Human Necks
† Breaking Necks in General
† Knocking over little old ladies
† Taking that last box of cereal you wanted
† Kittens
Hates:
† Things not going his way
† Things going the way of someone he hates
† Weakness
† Cowardice
† Guns
Talents:
† Breaking Necks
† Slitting Throats
† Beating People Senseless
† Expert Driver
† Tap Dancing
Habits:
† Always wears blue socks on Tuesday
† Brakes for kittens
† Likes his meat bloody
† Likes his victims bloody
† Always cuts off the right ear of his victim
† Appearance †
Skin Color: Alabaster, Germanic Heritage being present
Hair Color: Dark Blonde
Eye Color: Navy
Build: Toned
Piercings/Scars/Tattoos: Multiple scars running down his back
Choice of Clothing: T-shirt and jeans. Nothing fancy, and often easy to disrobe
Wolf Appearance: Strong, broad. 4'6" tall and 180 pounds of tearing machine. Likes feasting on the blood of his enemies. Still stops for kittens.
Other:
† History †
History: Rule by the strong. That simple idiom governed Kraz's life for a good portion of it. Until the 'strong' showed enough weakness that the growing man bared his teeth and took what he found to be rightfully his. The slaughter of his family came swift and fierce, though he gained nothing truly from it, other than the chains binding him being freed. His own man at the age of 17, Kraz has held fast on the bottom streets of London for a long, long time. Fifty years, to be exact. In that time frame, many have come under his boot, and many more under his claw...only now, he hungers for something larger. Seeking out potential werewolves, he seeks to form a pack, and from there, they'll place a foothold into something much, much larger...Or just kick down the door. Whichever works best.
Mother/Father: Eliza Reinhold(Deceased)/Rakran Reinhold(Killed by Pankraz)
Siblings: Two killed by Pankraz
Offspring: Ha.
Other:
† RP example †
(From another board)
“Where did that fool go…”
A hand rested on the window sill of the third floor, not long since passed through—It was still open, after all. Not the most discreet…but then again, one turn, and another, as they say, with more words tossed in there. A dark grin spread across the features of the owner of said hand, before one carefully stepped through the window, closing it behind. There was an acute awareness, being in a place such as this. It was nearly eloquent…Nearly…sophisticated…Nearly…burnt to the ground. But wait, that would come later. Much later. Twenty years? Thirty? Who knows…everything burns. Everything dies. Everything decays.
Such fun!
“I don’t have the time to go chasing some…Hm…”
Footsteps, steady and sure pattered down the hall, leaving a clear sound with each meeting of rubber to floor. The boots had such thick rubber, didn’t they, hardened to protect the wearer’s feet. This pair, was only liked, actually because it was rather easy to get that dark red substance that dripped from open wounds off of them. A little bit slick on the black surface, yes, but that also worked fairly well for bile…Or whatever else might come into contact with them. It was a messy line of work, after all. Why didn’t the rest of the form accentuate that? Instead, a pair of black jeans ran around toned legs, a little loose, up into a sanguine colored shirt, matching the hair and eyes of the wearer. Male, had to be, from the facial features, and the way the small muscle tones of his chest shone through the shirt. Of course, over all of this was a thick dark red duster…which also hid more than the sides of his body.
Deep pools of blood colored eyes scanned the hallways, before moving to the stairs…It would figure, the person this male was looking for tended to be –loud-. And with being –loud- came being easy to –find-…Then again, he had his own moments of being loud, now didn’t he? But that was reserved for when there were little LEFT to notice, that he hadn’t already taken care of. This? This seemed…reckless and fun. Amusing. A smirk ran over the man’s sharp features, tugging on the fingerless gloves that stretched around both of his hands, as he made his way down the stairs.
It wasn’t hard to find who he was looking for…And lo and behold, there were people. Two of the same girl, and a monk remainder. Ah, but these were Parahumans, no doubt…though the male looked to have pointed ears. Elf? High or Wood…or maybe he was a Mystic. Hm. Interesting…No one would want to know the thoughts running through this man’s head…surely, one might feel sick at merely a glimpse…but walls, they were painted the color of his eyes…in one way, or another. Stepping down the hallway, he licked his pale, cracked lips, stopping next to the mercenary already present. This was another one.
“You’re also an idiot. Just saying. No one could get a hold of you…so they sent me to track you down, for a nice little sum, to tell you they’ve a job specially for you. When you’re…’done’…Now with business out of the way…” His voice rose…and fell, not in time with much, and not –quite- melodic…it was just a little, off. A little…raspy. The male turned his eyes onto the girls, indicating what might come after business…“Who are these…tasty little morsels…All three of you.”
Draw whatever conclusion you liked…
† Let's talk about you †
Name: Kraz
Other Characters: None.
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