Post by neverever on Mar 22, 2010 16:19:27 GMT -7
† Donovan - John - Everett †
† Everlast, Everclear, Evermore †
[/center]† General Information †
Full Name: Donovan John Everett
Nicknames: Everlast[ing], Everclear, Evermore
Gender: Male
Race: Werewolf
Age: Two hundred
Age they appear: 23
Occupation: Hired hand; former Army infantry
Orientation: Straight
Health Problems: PTSD (Posttraumatic Stress Disorder)
Religion: Christian; non-practicing
† Personality †
Basic Personality: Everett was always a relaxed individual, preferring to worry about the things that concerned him at the moment than to fret over what wasn't upon him yet. Despite that having that kind of attitude has backfired on him multiple times, with severe results, it's a mentality that he has yet to kick. He enjoys hard work and working hard, and pushing himself to his physical limits. In his head, however, he is close to reaching his limit for what he can handle. Due to the combat he experienced during his time in the US Army, Everett suffers from posttraumatic stress disorder, which comes in bouts and is set off by the most unexpected things. It makes coping with what he has been through incredibly difficult and every day is a struggle. In many ways he has yet to accept the reality that the woman he loved is dead, and has spent years almost waiting for her to rise from the ashes. Everett also loathes his werewolf nature, indulging in denial of it until the full moon cycles back once more, forcing him to face his darker side again.
Likes:
† Physical Training
† Mooney
† The countryside
† Fixing things
† Meat
Hates:
† The full moon
† War movies/games
† Cities
† Not being able to see the stars or moon
† PTSD bouts
Talents:
† Skilled with various artillery
† Very knowledgeable when it comes to tactical situations
† Mechanical repair know-how
† Street smart
† Green thumb
Habits:
† Cleans under his fingernails with a knife
† Literally waits by the phone when expecting a call
† Refuses to purchase second hand books
† When something meaningful or worthwhile happens to him, he tries to save a physical remnant of it
† Needs a fan on to sleep
† Appearance †
Skin Color: Tan
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Blue
Build: Standing at 6'2", Everett is lean muscle
Piercings/Scars/Tattoos: The number "1" in red on the back of his left calf muscle. On his left forearm he has the 1st Infantry Division motto, "No Mission Too Difficult, No Sacrifice Too Great - Duty First". He also has a series of Chinese characters tattooed on the back of his right shoulder that represent Loyalty, Duty, Respect, Selfless Service, Honor, Integrity and Courage - the seven Army values.
Choice of Clothing: Typically jeans and a t-shirt, a jacket if it's cold or raining.
Wolf Appearance: Stands at 4'1" with a brownish-black pelt. There is no fur on either place on his body where he has tattoos. Eyes remain the same shade of blue.
Other: He wears a small gold crucifix necklace on a long chain at all times, even when changed.
† History †
History: They don't grow them in the North like they do in the South, nope.
Born and raised on a farm in Oklahoma, Donovan John Everett was the Southern boy that's immortalized in lyrics with a banjo strumming in the background. Listened to his mama and went to church every Sunday. Had a tan that cut off halfway up his upper arm and around his neck, and drove around in a Chevy so old that he kept the door shut with a bungee cord. Was raised to respect women and, as he aged, encompassed that so-called "Southern Charm". After he graduated from high school Everett enlisted in the Army. 11Bravo, infantry. Between the ages of eighteen and twenty one he had done three tours of Afghanistan before being sent to the 1st Infantry Division at Fort Riley, Kansas.
Before he left home for the Army, Everett had tried his hardest to win the affections of a girl named Ashleigh Clint. But, to all of his persistence, she always simply replied: "Never, Ever." He continued to write to her while he was abroad, always asking her to be his. Yet still the same response.
"Never, Ever."
Everett arrived at Fort Riley. There he met fellow sergeant Mooney, man who hadn't scored high enough on the ASVAB to enlist as anything but infantry, hailing from the backwoods of West Virginia and still carried the stink of a coal lamp. Mooney latched onto Everett like a fly on shit, rendering them inseparable. They were together that night in 2019 when Kansas found itself at war with something...not human.
The 1st Infantry Division was deployed to the local cities to try and evacuate the citizens and to kill the animals attacking - men that transformed into wolves. Everett and Mooney became separated from their squad in the heat of battle, and found themselves cornered by one of the monstrosities. They killed the animal - but not before it had bitten them both. Before the night was through their mission was a lost cause, the city overrun and destroyed. A wounded Everett took a vehicle and Mooney, and drove to the small town he had grown up in. The town where Ashleigh still lived. But he arrived too little too late. It had been demolished. The home had had grown up in was burnt rubble with both his parents dead inside. He knew before he even reached her that Ashleigh was lost too. He found her dying from the wounds she had suffered. Everett cradled her in his arms and begged her to live, that he would never ask anything of her ever again. And with her death rattle came her final words:
"Never, Ever."
Mother/Father: John James Everett and Marianne Wick Everett; deceased
Siblings: None
Offspring: None
Other: Lover: Ashleigh Clint; deceased
Other: Friend: Paul Mooney; NPC; werewolf
† RP example †
Rhiannon didn’t know how long she stayed there but when she finally found the world again it was dark out. The sheen of the streetlights glowed on the other side of the blinds. She stretched where she laid on his bed, reluctant to rise but a hunger clutched at her - and it wasn’t a hunger that Julian would be able to sate. No, that wasn’t true. She had a feeling he was the only thing that would satisfy it, but she couldn’t turn to him for this. Fire burned in her cheeks as she sat up then slid over the side to stand. He had tempted her and seduced her with his wares, but it never failed that when they were together another temptation laid in bed with them. She wanted to lengthen her fangs and delve into the crook of his neck, taste him in a way that she had yet to. The way that only a vampire could appreciate. Rhiannon’s hands rose to cover her face as the vivid image danced before her closed eyes, seeing herself drinking from him. Sinking her fangs into him as he sank into her and discovering him in a way that she reserved for prey.
There laid the one thing that separated her from Moore in an irreconcilable way. That which he could never know, and she could never share.
Rhiannon found her way to his bathroom where she showered and dressed. Blue jeans and a white wife beater tank that worshipped the soft curves of her body the same way Julian did. The dark lengths of her hair were left to hang on her back. As she headed for the door she paused to pull on her brown leather jacket, finally replaced, and boots. The keys to the apartment went into a pocket. She’d sworn to Moore that she wouldn’t disappear, and every night she and his keys returned without fail. And every night he rewarded her greatly for her dedication, returning it with diligence of his own.
The hunger pains in her grew, diminishing the raging lust only slightly as she hit the street. She needed to feed - had been holding off on doing so for too long already. The last time her body had met Moore’s and their breaths had fallen in sync, a perfect rhythm, it had been an almost uncontrollable urge. She’d bitten her lip and tasted her own blood instead. It wasn’t the blood she wanted but it quelled her desire for his. Just long enough to shudder a final time (or two) without hurting him. Now there was a trickle of anxiety for his safety in her veins. The ever present feeling of fear within as that bestial self churns deep and begs to be free; to feast upon blood.
Her hand took a scroll of teleportation from her pocket and unrolled the small paper, Rhiannon read the words scribed upon it and the world vanished once more, reforming a human heartbeat later in the darkness behind the station. On the other side she could hear the sound of buses and taxis and a train not far off in the distance. The pulse of the living city beat on. It was the Thalia station. A safe distance from Moore’s apartment, she could hunt without fear of finding him in the darkness of an alley fighting. It was becoming almost torturous to be there as he exchanged blows; a single drop of his blood frenzied a beast within her. An animal she fed with a physical, unchaste substitution.
He had devoured her innocence. She now fed them both with what he’d left behind.
Rhiannon made her way through the shadows lithely, the cold air of the night biting at her face but she didn’t let it sway her. She needed to feed. It couldn’t be put off anymore. Tonight she had to find prey or this would be the first night that she didn’t return for Moore.
† Let's talk about you †
Name: Everett
Other Characters: None
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