:.I Swing Towards.: He doesn't seem to mind either way
:.A Glorious Gift.:
-Can shift into a horse-sized wolf
-Can read to the kids during story time (does the voices and everything)
-Will appreciate your cooking no matter how bad it is
-Has excellent survival skills
:.The Proud.: Warrior
:.People Say.: Fen is sort of a strange fellow. He's pretty friendly with strangers, and makes a good first impression, but the longer you know him, the more of his quirks you notice. Your first impression of him may be a meek and awkward man; he's terrible at speaking with people he doesn't know. He's kind of naive and a bit childlike, which may be why he's so good with the kids. You may not notice it at first, but every now and then, you'll see him curl his lip in a snarl at someone he doesn't like. He's not afraid to bite and claw during a fight. He'll have playful bouts where he wants to wrestle and spar. It takes a little getting used to, but he's a good guy at heart.
:.What You See.: Fen is 5'9" with lean muscles. His hair is long and mousy brown. Fen has pale skin and light brownish-gold eyes. He often lefts his facial hair go for a while before shaving or trimming it. As for clothes, Fen only wears the most comfortable: loose fitting pants, sweatshirts, t-shirts, ect. At home, he often wears nothing at all.
In his wolf form, Fen stands at 6 feet at the shoulders. He has brown and tan fur, and the same golden brown eyes.
:.Behind The Scenes.: Fen sports many scars from his life in the wild. There's too many to bother telling about.
:.The Past Was.:
Fen's parents were part of a small settlement up north. He was one of the few children there, but his parents were great teachers. They taught him to read, do math, and how to speak a few of the languages he may come across in the outside world. Fen lived in this settlement until he was 9, when a group of raiders stormed through and tore the place apart.
Fen was separated from his parents, so he did what they had taught him to do in this situation: he found shelter and he waited. And waited. And waited. Eventually, it became apparent that they weren't going to come rescue him. Fen had to fend for himself. He wandered his way back to what was left of the settlement, many of its people dead, and gathered what little supplies were left: a rucksack, a couple of his favorite books, a canister of water, and not much else.
Fen then ventured out into the big, scary world to try and survive. He came across a rickety little shack in the forest to call home. The roof leak, the floor creaked, and he was pretty sure it had more termites than nails, but it was better than nothing. It didn't take long for him to get hungry, forcing him to learn to hunt. He knew that wildlife lived in the area; he'd heard wolves not far from his home. If wolves were around, then there had to be food as well. He began by foraging: eating nuts and berries, and occasionally the left overs from the wolves' hunts. As he grew older, he became braver. Fen eventually set out to meet the wolves that lived in the area, and to hopefully befriend them. Or get torn apart, whichever came first.
He seemed to have a natural instinct when it came to animals. He knew when to back off, when to approach, and how to convey that he was a friend, not an enemy. After a few weeks of relentless effort, Fen managed to infiltrate the wolf pack. He started off as a loner that simply trailed behind them, then slowly began to join them on hunts and during meals. His intelligence, ability to make tools, and knack for hunting soon earned him a trusted spot among their ranks.
Fen was once a lonely boy in the middle of nowhere, but now he had a canine family. As the years went on, Fen's old clothes outgrew him, and as he became more feral, he eventually lost the need to wear them all together. During the harshest days of winters, he would still seek shelter in his shack, but the cold springs and falls didn't even bother him anymore. When he got bored, he would sit around and read his books to keep his literacy skills sharp. His favorite stories were about one of Norse god Loki's brood: Fenrir the wolf. He eventually adopted the name for himself.
This all changed when he came across a group of travelers, headed for the Paradise Land. Fen couldn't remember the last time he had seen a human face, and he felt a need to join his own kind again. He was torn between the prospect of human interaction, and his quaint little life in the woods. Finally, human interaction won out. Fen followed the group to the Paradise Land, but never really spoke with any of them. He seemed happy to just have their company. When they finally got there, Fen slowly started making a home for himself. It wasn't easy getting acquainted to the human way of life, but he did his best.
:.People Say.: What do people say about the King of Hearts? Well... most try to rationalize the way he is by summing him up into a one word package: caring. He starts by disarming you with words, using a talent of tongue to pick the locks around a man's guard. Once he's found you open he begins to read the story scrawled across your chest, flipping through the pages until he finds your heart. There... where blood meets, where the muscle pumps life through the rest of the body, he takes a hold and doesn't let go... you can't let go. He tells you that you're safe and you believe him. It's here that he begins to mend what's broken, revive the person inside until they can walk on their own again. In this way they become his and in this way, they become a part of his family. It's invasive... perhaps dark... but in his mind and in the minds of those that follow him, it's safe.
What else do they say? Well perhaps he's not limited to a single word. Cold is another label to aptly describe him. If there is weakness in his men, he'll expunge it with prejudice. If there is a threat to his family? He'll eliminate it. If someone turns against him... he'll punish them, deliberately. It's in such conditions that his men grow strong, hardened, and loyal.
When he's not dealing with people, he's dealing in knowledge. Not only are his people growing in the wild to be strong and hard, they also find themselves growing smart. It's often you'll find Cypher buried in books, either reading or reading to others. If he's not reading, he's hunting, teaching those around him how to kill for sustenance. When he's not hunting... he's killing, teaching the most important lesson: to take another's life.
:.The Past Was.: As a child, Cypher's hold on life was a struggle. He was born sick, a side affect of the poison that blanketed the air. Even as the years ebbed away what radiation remained from the war, there was still trace amounts in the Earth that had an effect on those cursed with living. It had an changed people, for the better... and worse. Cypher saw more of the latter. He'd been raised at a time when metahumans were common knowledge but remained a rare sight. There were stories floating around, tales passed from dense roves of survivors that caught the ear of a curious boy. A man who could glow, another who could ingest anything. There was the stranger who could ignite any object on a whim and the woman... a "Mother" who could summon water, the element of life from nothing. Back then they'd been simple stories... but these stories held within them a strength that Cypher hadn't yet known. Hope was a rare gift that no one could give but everyone sought after and in these stories was the hope people had been looking for. And so, it was in pursuit of this fabled "Paradise" that he and his family set out. His mother; ever beautiful, gentle and wise, always trying to see the light in the dark. His father; strong, intelligent and steadfast. He was the example of a man that Cypher hoped to one day become. Finally his older sister... and odd child but just as wise as his mother and who shared in their parents love for himself. They together with a ragtag group of survivors began the trek across the dead waste to find life.
Life however is rarely, if ever forgiving and the Earth never forgets. Neither would Cypher.
Today, Cypher travels at the head of a large group of survivors outside and far away from the walls of Paradise. They move ever closer...
:.Behind The Scenes.: Large scar painted vertically across his back. It's starts from the left hip and spreads as it travels toward the head, ending at each shoulder blade.
The epic journey of Cypher and his family through the dead and to the city has been left out intentionally (I promise I'm not trying to be lazy... this is my second go after all :P). It'll unfold as events in the present unfold to add depth to his character :3
Yes it is! It's located in the middle of an old city. I've been trying to figure out what city I wanted it built in but I haven't had any good ideas yet. Does anybody have a good suggestion for what city it was built in?
I've thought of: -New York City -Dallas/Austin -Washington D.C.
I'm really liking the thought of New Orleans, though.
Hey guys. Thinking of making a blessed one. I have a really great concept for a character but I need to ask first. Would the ability to control radiation be a viable power for a blessed one?
-He's a born leader: brave, loyal, good at making tough decisions.
-He's a formidable fighter, having proved his proficiency in battle several times.
-A tinkerer. He's good at making and fixing various objects.
:.The Proud.: Usually the guy people come to when they need dirty work done. He's not exactly proud of that.
:.People Say.:
When Isam began his journey to the Paradise Land, he was a good man. He had pure intentions: getting these people, strangers as they may be, to the safe haven and hopefully living a peaceful life there. But the journey proved harder than he could have imagined. At out the all the people of his group, Isam was the one that became the understood leader. He had to call the shots, and they weren't all pretty. The long, hard road to the safe haven was paved with blood, sweat, and tears. Isam did things he wasn't proud of, thing that he would likely never forget.
Once he reached the haven, he was spent. Isam was done being a leader, done being everyone's personal bodyguard, and done being a killer. All he wanted was time to unwind and get his head on straight. He suffered anxiety and paranoia, and the nightmares kept him up most nights. And despite his efforts to escape the violence, he was still the one people came to when they needed someone gone. When someone came to the haven with foul intent, or when someone got infected with the mysterious living dead illness. It seemed that Isam could never escape what he was: a killer.
To most people, Isam is a quiet and respectful man. He's calm, reserved, and mostly seen as the serious type. Can occasionally be seen practicing dry humor.
:.What You See.: Isam is 5'6" and muscular. His hair is black, curly, and shoulder length. It was often unbrushed and unruly, sometimes worn back in a ponytail. He often sported facial hair. His skin is a medium brown, and his eye are dark brown. Isam's body bare extensive scarring, most of it from his years of travel. His fashion choices are hardly that; Isam is a utilitarian by nature. He wears army pants, earth tone t-shirts and tank tops, and combat boots almost every day of his life.
:.The Past Was.:
Isam was born in Afghanistan. His country was a rough place to live. Cities were in shambles, kids were getting legs blown off by old land mines, the land was arid and infertile, people were struggling in poverty...To be honest, not much changed. He grew up with very little family, most of them having died of illness or starvation. Isam learned from a young age what death and loss was, and after a while, he grew comfortable with it. People died all the time; it was just a thing that happened.
When he was 24, he heard about a group of people getting a ship ready to travel to the supposed Paradise Land. He honestly didn't have very high expectations, but it couldn't be any worse then where he was, right? While on the ship, it as discovered that he was the only guy in the group who could speak English, having learned it from his neighbors, who were of American descent. Isam was nominated the leader, seeing as most of the people on the Paradise land where likely English speakers. That's when things went downhill for the poor man.
The ship took four months to reach America. During that time, several of the passengers went mad with cabin fever. As the food supply began to dwindle, people started going at each other's throats, accusing each other of stealing and hoarding food. Isam had to keep his cool to sort the mess out. When one man finally lost his mind and started threatening the other passenger's lives, Isam was the one who had to kill him.
People slowly died off of starvation and disease, and Isam was the one who dumped the bodies into the sea, to keep the other passengers from cannibalizing them. By the time the ship landed, it wreaked of death. Isam couldn't get off the damn thing fast enough. They had started out with 97 people, and now they only had 63. They landed in eastern Canada, their ship having moved a few hundred miles off course. The people weren't prepared for the cold, and many froze to death. By the time they crossed the boarders into the United States, they were down to 41.
The caravan was attacked by thieves several times, and each time, Isam led his best fighters against them. Many of their attackers weren't all men; women and children were among them. Isam was the one who had to decide if they should keep the wives and children of the men they had murdered, and risk them seeking revenge, or to leave them to die. Usually, the choice wasn't one that left his conscience clean.
Over the years that it took them to travel to the Paradise lands on foot, the group was attacked by undead, raiders, and traitors. When one of them got infected, Isam usually had to kill them. When they took a raider captive, Isam was usually the one to pry information out of him. When their supplies ran low, Isam made the call to raid other survivor's camps, just to keep his own people alive.
By the time they finally reached the safe haven there were only 20 of them left. Isam was left with scars on his body and mind, and it may be years before they heal.