[CHAR] New York Underground

[Metronome]

Name: Elwood
Age: 43
Gender: Male
Species: Gargoyle
Rank: Leader of Manhattan Clan

Personality: Elwood is a bit harden; he likes to pretend that people and things don't get to him anymore, regardless of how false that may be. He keeps a cool head most of the time, and puts his clan first. He has been known to have a temper when things don't go even remotely right; especially when he's work for it. He doesn't have a whole lot of patience for lack of intelligence. Stupid people irritate him more than anything else.

However, under his thick hide there is a tender heart. Elwood doesn't show this side often, too used to having to be the invulnerable leader. But to those he knows as friends, he isn't afraid to reveal his emotions to. He'll ask for advise, opinions, or maybe just a talk. Sometimes big scary gargoyles need to talk about their feelings.

Other: He has placed the clan on top of a large sky scraper as their resting ground. A smaller, abandoned apartment complex next door serves as a meeting place/nest.

He does not allow vampires or other human-hunting creatures in his territory.

Appearance: Elwood's looks command respect. His skin is emerald green and smooth like high quality suede. He stands at a towering 8'2", with a massive wingspan. His build is very muscular, with broad shoulders. He's clearly build for strength, not agility.

Weapons/Equipment: Nothing worth mentioning.

History: Elwood was hatched in a small castle in Ireland. He lived there with his clan until he was 23. During that time, he hardly ever saw a single human being. Sometimes they would come along the hiking trails, or ride horses by, but he never really interacted with them. He'd heard legends of how the gargoyle was made to protect the keepers of their castles. But their castle was abandoned.

Or at least, it was. One day a group of humans came to the castle and started poking around. The castle was decaying, and was set for demolition the following week, but they wanted to make sure that nothing valuable was left inside. Some of the gargoyles caught the eyes of the visitors, and they decided to come back the next day to pick them up and auction them off.

The gargoyles were sold online at very high prices, being in great condition considering their surroundings. Elwood and a few others were sold and shipped off to separate corners of the globe, while the rest were destroyed in the demolition. Elwood broke free of his sleep one night to find that he was inside a large box. Confused, he wreaked havoc, tearing through the wood to find more boxes. He was buried under tons of cargo crates on a ship.

Unable to escape, he was forced to sleep there again. The next night, he awoke on top of a stone column in front of a mansion on Staten Island. He took off into the night to find out where the hell he was, and was thrusted into a world of lights, crowds, and little greenery. For a while, he hid in Central Park. It was the only place he ever felt truly at ease.

When he found the Manhattan Clan, they were still a small group. He joined them so that they could teach him how to survive in this new world. Luckily for him, Elwood had always been versatile. He grew used to the loud, crowded streets, and soon he learned to thrive there. Over the years, he gained favor in the clan and eventually became it's leader.

He did eventually learn about his castle and old clan being destroyed, and it grieves him to this day. It's hard to not dwell on it, and hold it against the humans for their carelessness. But Elwood has more or less put it behind him, because now New York City is his castle, and he has to protect it from the things that come.

[Metronome]

Names: Amid and Kadir Karzai
Ages: 25
Genders: Male
Species: Humans
Ranks: Hunters

Personalities: Amid and Kadir are twins. They have been together their whole lives, and, for the most part, they were all each other ever had. As such, their personalities are very similar; they both have similar interest and goals. They're both young and eager to do something that they think matters.

However, the brothers vary in their own little ways.

Amid take up the role of big brother. Possibly the smarter of the two, he takes pride in his ability to form strategies and plans. He has a certain foresight that his 'baby' brother lacks. Amid is less likely to take a risk, and more likely to sit back and think things through. He's often the cooler headed one of the two. He's a bit less emotional than his brother.

Kadir is the reckless one. Although not stupid reckless. He knows that, from watching his brother, strategy pays off. But while his brother plans, Kadir paces. He's a bit on the hyper active side, always wanting to move and do something. Sometimes, this comes as an advantage. Kadir can stay up all night and take watch on hunts while his brother sleeps, and then catnap throughout the day with no ill effects. He can sit down and focus on one task, such as cleaning their guns or mapping the city, and be done in half the time it would take his brother. Kadir is always on his toes; a fast thinker.

Other: The Karzai twins were born in Afghanistan. Both are multilingual due to their travels.

Equipment and weapons: Amid was adamant that they invest in at least some creature hunting gadgets, but for the most part, they live on a budget. Both brothers own rifles and proper ammo (lead and silver), and both have their knife collections, but that was the cheaper stuff.

They recently bought a magic version of a cutie pie device that detects the trace levels of "magic" that all inhumans admit. Areas that they frequent will have higher levels. The only problem with this is that, when near witches, the device goes haywire. The merchant forgot to mention that when the brothers bought it.

Kadir bought a stake gun specifically for killing vampires, which Amid thought was a dumb ass idea.

Amid has a silver coated knife, and Kadir had one with a diamond edge. Both were incredibly expensive, leaving the brother's recent sphinx hunting money drained.

Appearance: Amid and Kadir are identical twins, but it's easy enough to tell them apart. Both are of Arab nationality, which tan skin, dark brown hair, and dark brown eyes. They're both around 5'10" and have lean muscular builds.

Amid has a small scar on his left cheek, and wears his hair shorter than his brother. His style is casual: button up shirts and slacks.

Kadir has longer hair. He dressed a bit more sloppy, preferring t-shirts and jeans, and sometime sweatpants.

History: The brothers were born in a small village in Afghanistan. As children, they played in the streets, never once feeling unsafe. This changed when a group of men came into town one day. The boys were about 13, and they didn't understand much about politics yet.

The men demanded food and supplies, but the villagers refused to help them. Their mother told the boys that these men were bad; they killed people for power and wanted to overthrow the government. Because the village refused to give in to their demands, the men demolished it. They shot people in the streets, burned houses, and raided and looted all they could.

The boys' mother gave them each a backpack with food and water and told them to run and hide in the desert until things had calmed down. They did just that, but when they returned, there was nothing left.

Amid and Kadir were left alone. Those who had managed to survive the attack were too busy with their griefs to bother with the boys. So the two set off into the desert to head to the nearest city. They hoped to find work there, and maybe pick up the shambles of their lives. It was during this journey that they first saw a mythical beast. It was part lion, part bird, and had the head of a woman. It terrified the two boys, who hid from it.

When they got to the city, they tried to tell people of the creatures lurking out in the desert. Their claims were brushed off by everyone except for one man, who took them aside and told them that what they saw was a sphinx. Part woman, part lion, and part bird, the sphinxes of the desert were vicious beasts. They would stop travelers and give them a riddle. If the traveler couldn't answer the riddle, they were eaten. The man explained that he and a few others hunted these beasts, and that there was good money in selling their parts on the black market.

So of course, the two young brothers wanted in. The man took them to his comrades, who agreed to help train the boys. It wasn't terribly unusual to see boys so young fighting in wars, so why not fight creatures? Amid and Kadir hunted sphinxes for years, traveling all around the middle east and eventually into Asia. This opened a new world of creatures to them. They hunted kappas and dragons, and all sorts of other critters.

Eventually, they found their way into Europe, where vampires were the ruling beast. They found that it was trickier to hunt sentient beings, but they were regarded as heroes for killing the monsters. The small towns plagued by the beasts would often reward the brother heavily for their efforts.

Eventually, they caught wind of the turmoil in New York. They caught a private flight overseas and began setting up shop. However, the diversity of the inhumans in New York wasn't what they expected. The brothers joined the hunting guild so that they could learn about the local creatures.

[Osmius]

Name: Baghead
Age: Unknown (For both entities)
Gender: Male (The wearer that is, the Bag is only male in essence)
Species: Human (The wearer of the Bag, not so much the Bag itself)
Rank: Newcomer to the New York Huntsmen

Personality: Scores of men and women have donned the Bag throughout its time. Each one was their own person, but once they took up that old, ragged mantle, their thinkings and perceptions were superseded by that of the original Bagman. And he himself was, and still is, a cold and sinister man set on one simple goal - to kill monsters, any and all, who would do ill against mankind. He is often solemn, though he is liken to chat with those who share his profession, on just about any subject, even outside of hunting. He has been witness to centuries of human advancement, and is versed in many subjects, even if he may not seem it. Those he becomes friendly with may find him to be somewhat brash and humorous, though of the morbid kind.

Other: Those who wear the Bag and let it control their actions are still very susceptible to death, but the Bag is not so easily undone. The Holders are always close by, ready to reclaim the Bag when its wearer falls, and send in a replacement to keep the work going.

Appearance: Most every iteration of the Baghead has looked different from the last. Times change, vessels are swapped. The Bag itself, of course, never changes, but everything else does. This Baghead of today dons a simple white, long-sleeved, buttoned shirt, black dress pants with a leather belt, black dress shoes, black leather gloves, a beige leather trench coat reaching down to his knees, and atop the Bag rests a brown fedora with a black band.

Equipment/Weapons: Just as the Baghead's appearance changes, so to do the tools with which their work is carried out. Silver pellets and wooden stakes have been either traded out or upgraded into new, modernized versions of themselves. Today, he is equipped with the following weapons - a custom-crafted heavy pistol for louder confrontations, a compact crossbow for stealth and subtlety, and a silver hatchet for when things get messy. Alongside these offensive tools is an old little bauble, able to detect arcane energies and inhuman essences. There's also things more belonging to the man who wears the Bag than the Bag itself, such as a phone and a wallet, but those are largely unimportant in the business of hunting, save for contacting the Holders.

History: The strange tale of the Bagheads reaches ever so far back to the faded roots of known history. It is a story that some will tell their children either to scare them, or to give them hope. And the story itself is relatively simple. It involves a man, monsters, and a leather bag.

Once there was a man, now obscured and unfamiliar to all others, who hunted monsters. He hunted them with such fervor and bombast that, he himself almost seemed one of them. His people praised him, and his enemies feared him. It always went unknown who this man truly was, for he wore a simple leather bag over his head, concealing his true identity, and taking up the name of "the Bagman". It was sometimes believed that it was, in fact, no man at all, but the Bag itself that hunted in the night, lacking meat and bone and flesh beneath its woven strings. But despite the rumors that might have spread, he truly was just a man in the end. He was slain one nightly hunt, in his prime no less. His body was torn apart, and his mask was cast into the dirt.

The Bagman was dead, but he was not gone. Anger, and vengeance, and purpose coursed through the fabric of the leather mantle. A young man, follower of the masked hunter, came and claimed it one night as its slayer was away. He vowed to carry on his hero's work, and bid the Bag his former bearer's strength. And his strength, that young man did obtain, and much more indeed. The two combined became the very first of the Bagheads. Two minds, one vessel.

For years, this successor to the Bagman carried out much the same work he did, until such a day came that he began to grow old, and feeble. But the Bag refused to stop there. Together, they formed a cadre of servants to this one task - pass down the Bag to those who would see inhuman kind be undone, so that men could rest easy in the night. These servants became known as the Holders, and they pledged themselves to the Bag, and hunter after hunter who carried on its work.

Many years have passed. Hunters have come, and hunters have gone. But the Bag itself has ceased to rest, and neither have the Holders. Baghead after Baghead, more and more monsters see their end at the sight of the old, ragged leather. The Holders assist the Bagheads however they can, telling them where the inhuman congregate, and supplying them with tools with which to work. The Baghead of today has come to New York City, as word of the underlying presence of monstrous beings has caught his ear. He intends to carry out the same service he has in so many other places and times.

And he just may do so with the help of the local Huntsmen.

[smarty0114]

Name:Charles Galloway
Age:21
Gender:Male
Species:Witch
Rank:Charles serves as a diplomat/spymaster of sorts. He deals with the leaders of the other ruling factions, and makes sure that they don't do anything rash or stupid. Since talk of war has broken out, he's had his hands full trying to prevent it.

Personality: Charlie is charismatic and funny, a true jokester. But past the charisma, he's an extremely intelligent and very manipulative young man, someone that you wouldn't want to cross. He stays true to his friends, and his enemies are never forgotten. He believes that the ends justify the means, and is willing to do just about anything to get what he wants. He can be rather self serving, although he's always willing to help a friend in need, just so long as it doesn't interfere with his own needs.

Appearance:

Charlie

Equipment/weapons: Charlie uses a revolver as his weapon, and always has some ammo for it on hand.

History: Charlie's parents were the definition of soul mates. They met as teenagers and fell in love. Once they graduated college, his father, George, asked his mother, Lillian, to marry him. She said yes, and a year later, Charlie was born. His parents then opened up a small shop that sold trinkets to passerby. While most people believed them to be just trinkets, his mother liked to enchant them with small charms that would help people out in small ways, like keeping them healthy.

Charlie's childhood was a happy one, and his parents trained him in the ways of magic. He always was rather skilled with it, and is respected around the supernatural community for his skill. When he became an adult and full fledged member of the coven, he was elected to the position of Head Diplomat, a rather prestigious position for someone so young, but one that he earned.

Since then, he's made many friends across the city, and works tirelessly keeping the other factions from getting too pushy with the Coven, while also trying to gain more power for the witches. He was also able to gather a group of witches who were out of work. They act as a sort of gang for him, and carry out anything that he can't see to personally.

[Taytay]

Name: Alexander Thompson
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Species: Witch
Rank: Leader of the Brooklyn Witches

Personality: Alex is a warm soul. He is always wearing a smile and greets with warmth. He has impressive analytical abilities that stretch to his well-developed people skills and robust social relationships; and though he is the judging type, he is often receptive to change and new ideas. He is often meticulous to the point of perfectionism, and though he procrastinates, Alex can always be relied on to get the job done on time. Alexander takes his responsibilities personally, consistently going above and beyond, doing everything he can to exceed expectations and delight others, at work and at home.

He has a tendency to underplay his accomplishments, and while his kindness is often respected, more cynical and selfish people are likely to take advantage of Alex's dedication and humbleness by pushing work onto him and then taking the credit.

Naturally social, Alex utilizes excellent memories not to retain data and trivia, but to remember people, and details about their lives. He will never forget who his friends are and who helped him along the way. Alex has a tendency to be underestimated because of this kindness he fosters, but in actually he is quiet strong will and can be bull headed sometimes.

Other: He got BA's in botany and biology and owns a flower shop off of Ocean and Parkside Ave. The entire building also doubles as a coven house that he lives in ans some other who need it.

Appearance:

Alex

Equipment/weapons: Nothing at the moment.

History: Alex was raised in New York all his life. He grew up with two magically gifted parents and had deep roots at the Brooklyn Coven. His parents had always preached to him about not misusing his abilities and being a upright citizen at all cost. It became so strict that he could not take it anymore, and left after high school. Alex went to college on the other side of the country and stayed as a guest in another coven. He wanted to see the world and meet other witches from all around and be exposed to something beside his "safety net".

Every year while in college he would study abroad unaware to the things going on back home not answering his parents calls while in Paris. Not responding to their emails when he backpacked through Italy. Not writing back to them while he received their letters in London. Alex had completely neglected his responsibilities to his coven and his parents and it was not until he was 25 that he came back to his home in New York.

When he came home he found that his parents had died when some Huntsman had raided their herbal shop. He went through half a year of grieving, feeling the true sting of guilt. His guilt came from ignoring their pleas and not coming home more often. He was grieving for not being here and being able to do something for his parents in their time of need. After he stopped crying he decided to make it up to them by devoting himself to the coven and sharing what he had learned on his ravels. for two years he taught his people in Brooklyn what he had learned from different parts of the world, from the spells to the potions to the enchantments to the curses.

After sharing most of his knowledge and showing his devotion, it was a collective decision that he be made Coven leader because of his strength, knowledge and oath he made to them. He just recently accepted the offer from the elders, and now he is filling in his new position. Trying his best to keep his people safe and rebuild what they once had.

He leads with a heavy weight on his heart due to his parents death and now he uses that to help him make decisions to help his people as a whole. But with the deaths and the imminent threat of war on the horizon, Alexander wants no part of it, it will only cause more death and pain for everyone. But now all he can do is prepare and wait for someone else to cast the first blow and hope for the best.

[yoyohayli]

Name

Preston Holt

Age

24 (69)

Gender

Male

Species

Vampire

Rank

Probably one of the lowest in vampire society

Personality

By all accounts and purposes, Preston is not a very good vampire. He is compassionate, gentle, and a coward when it comes to conflict. This makes feeding a chore, having to battle his conscience while still managing to survive. Because of this, his main sources of food are drunks and heavy drug users because it wouldn’t be unusual for them to “pass out” unexpectedly only to awaken later with no memory of what happened. Occasionally, he will partake in group feeding so long as he doesn’t have to make the actual kill.
Preston does not view humans as lower creatures and quite enjoys observing them, although it is hard to be around humans without feeling that instinctual hunger. He thinks the most beneficial course of action for vampires and humans alike would be to make humans aware of the existence of vampires and allow for some sort of mutual feeding agreement that would reduce the need to kill. Of course, he has no delusions about the current state of mind within the general vampire community towards humans and knows that revealing themselves would most likely cause panic more than anything else.

Appearance

Appearance

Equipment/weapons

None.

History

Preston was born in New York City in 1923 to working-class parents. He was only a child when the Great Depression hit, forcing his mother out of her job to stay at home while his father continued working hard for even less than he had been earning before. Preston’s family scraped by below the poverty line until 1939 when main economic conditions began to stabilize again.
When WWII rolled around and the United States entered the War in 1941, Preston was 18. His father was already too old to be considered for war, but Preston began to fear he would soon be drafted, knowing that he could never handle a battle situation. If there was a god out there, it certainly heard Preston’s silent prayers every drafting period. Eventually, the war ended and Preston never ended up having to fight, although his peers criticized his cowardice, saying he should have been drafted just because of his squeamishness.
Preston finished school and moved out on his own in 1947, still staying within the city. It was then he met the people that would change the course of his life forever. They had seemed like a normal group of young persons around his age, though he only ever saw them smoking and hanging around at night as he returned to his apartment from work. They approached him one night, inviting him to a dinner gathering of sorts and he politely agreed, just happy to have something social to do for once. He should have felt wary of entering the underground hangout for a dinner party and he ended up being dinner at the end of their fangs.
Of course, he wasn’t the only human they’d invited there. But he was the only one spared from death. These were young and inexperienced vampires. Apparently, one of the girls had taken a liking to him from observing him for quite some time and so she turned him into a vampire as well, essentially gifting him a longer life. Preston didn’t see it as a gift, struggling with the concept of needing to feed at least once a week in order to survive. Fleeing from the group of young vampires, he tried to live off rodent blood for a while, but the taste was so awful, he couldn’t keep it down most nights. The Queens coven took him in, but they soon realized he was useless on hunts and he spends his nights on the receiving end of sneers.
He’s been contemplating leaving the Queens vampire coven for quite some time now, but doubts he would be able to survive on his own.

[flightless-angel-castiel]

Name: Naomi Northcutt.
Age: 25.
Gender: Female.
Species: Werewolf.
Rank: Omega.

Personality:

Despite her ranking, Naomi is a scrappy little thing, having street smarts from her time living on it. She has to be scrappy, considering where she was pushed down in the pack. Naomi might be strong-minded, quick-witted, and have a sharp tongue, but she isn't physically strong. Even being a werewolf, she would be considered one of the weaker werewolves around, probably from her petite frame and the fact she doesn't, actually, like physical fights. She has a mouth on her but when it comes to actual fighting, she tries to stand up for herself, but in the end, she is usually beat. She isn't prideful, admitting when she's wrong easily, and also admitting defeat. She isn't that confident in herself, either, because she doesn't know how to fight as well as some of the other pack members. She's peaceful, more of a lover than a fighter, and only uses words as her weapons. Usually because she has too. Most of the time, she sits back and observes, only stepping in when she thinks something really stupid is occurring or something she heavily disagrees with.

Besides that, she's good at keeping quiet and unnoticed. She's a deep thinker, being in her own head a lot, and prefers the outdoors, and is usually found in them, be it hidden as a wolf or blending in with humans. She enjoys people-watching and has a good listening ear. She doesn't lie very well at all and she doesn't like lying, either. She's more honest and up front and very open, telling it like it is, coming off as blunt at times. She has long ago accepted her place in the pack, choosing to stay in her place rather than try and get out of it, considering that meant being brash physically and she didn't like that. Despite the way she has been treated, she is still very kind, with a open heart, and still tries to help others; having a low mindset of herself, she believes she belongs in the lowest ranking and still tries her best to help the pack, and whoever she comes across that needs it, when need be. She tries to be happy and positive, though that is sometimes hard.

Other: Naomi has a thick Cajun accent that usually stands out to most people.

Appearance:

Naomi

Equipment/weapons: None.

History:

Naomi was born in the swamps of Louisiana, to two kind-hearted werewolf parents. From there, she was taught to appreciate nature, be peaceful and positive, and love all things living. Her parents were not like many werewolves, angry and quick to fight. Instead, they had broken away from that and created a safe haven once they were pregnant with Naomi. Her parents could be considered very hippie-like, to be honest, and Naomi still had many of their morals and mindsets, just growing a sharp tongue once she was in New York. Naomi very much loved her parents but always felt like there was more out there for her. Another issue was her parents sheltered her very much, and she didn't know much about the world. When she was a teenager, she was stupid and young and ran away from a happy, but sheltered, home, to go to New York, where she had heard travelers coming through her small town talk about how beautiful and huge it was there. She got a hard taste of reality in the real world, learning quick she couldn't trust everyone, and having a hard journey to New York. But she didn't stop until she was in New York, despite all the hardships and learning that the world wasn't as pretty as her Louisiana home. Even then, she pushed for what she wanted, lived on the streets for a long time, until she was about nineteen. Then, she stumbled upon the wolf pack, and they took her in; she had never been in a pack before, had only really been around her parents for most of her life, until her travels but she hadn't made any actual friends during those, and so she was quickly pushed down the lowest rank, inexperienced in helping a pack and not understanding the ways it worked. During her travels and life on the streets, she grew quite the sharp tongue, which only got her into more trouble with the older, more experienced pack members, and so finally, she just accepted her place and does what she has too. She still does miss her parents and Louisiana but she enjoys the sights and people in New York too much to go back, and honestly, she is afraid to return, feeling like she has betrayed her parents in some way and can't return.

[karamonnom]

Name:
Rosaleen Crowley

Age:
25

Gender:
Female

Species:
Witch

Rank:
Second in Command

Personality:
In contrast to her first in command, Rosa appears to be a much colder individual. She is sharp-tongued and sarcastic. She says what is on her mind and doesn't seem to have a filter. She is also strict and has high expectations of other people and if they don't meet her expectations, they should prepare for some lashing out. She is a hardworking, responsible person who does her best to complete any task given to her to the best of her abilities and with efficiency. People are often scared of her because of her personality and her naturally angry-looking face. However, that doesn't mean she is a mean person. She is actually quite nice when people get to know her and has a soft spot for all living things. She is secretly protective and maternal, though that side of her isn't quite obvious to most people.

Appearance:

Rosa Crowley

Rosa is not very tall, standing only at 5"2 but she often wears boots with high heels to make herself seem taller.
She dyes her hair often but at the moment it's black with green streaks.

Equipment/weapons:
Rosa always has some potions on her in case she needs to help heal someone. She also carries a charm that is supposed to "ward off evil". It was given to her by her grandmother so she doesn't exactly know if it works but hopefully it does.

History:
Rosa never had the chance to meet her father because he was slain before she was born. She was raised by her mother and her grandmother who both were witches as well. They taught her everything she knew about magic and potions. It was a peaceful existence and when she was not at school, she was working at her grandmother's charm shop. However as she grew up, she learned that things were not that easy. They struggled to pay rent and business was not as good as it could be. There was also this constant fear that they might be hunted down like her father was.

They weren't alone though. There were other witches like themselves and they stuck together at the Coven. Rosa was extremely grateful for the support and now that she has gotten older, participated more and did her best to help with anything the Coven needed. She was very hardworking and moved up the ranks patiently, only to end up being second in command to some young world traveler who has decided to show up seemingly out of nowhere. At first she was disappointed with the elders'choice, but when she saw him at work, she realized that he was not as incompetent as she thought. He was a talented witch and a responsible leader, so she had no choice but to respect him.

With the threat of war looming over them, Rosa has been doing her best to prepare. While she does want to avoid it, she cannot deny the fact that it is a likely possibility. She wants the Coven to be ready for whatever may happen.

[OtomostheCrazy]

Name: Kinjabal
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Species: Troll
Rank: Second-in-Command

Personality: Despite being what some would consider an adult troll, there was always one particular trait that Kinjabal never let go from his younger years. That trait would be a desire to experience the excitement of life, which is often visualized as thrilling adventures and epic battles. The trait has dulled, as he no longer thinks that the world can provide either adventure or epic battles, but it still resonates within him with enough influence to have him seek some sort of conflict.

Aside from that, he's usually very competent in his personal decisions, and rarely goes against Tribe Leader's proposals and plans. That being said, he is still very arrogant and cocky, boasting about his skill and strength whenever not discussing anything that would affect the tribe as a whole. He's also driven in whatever goal he or his tribe has decided on, and is almost too stubborn to be convinced that certain decisions that have been made are bad.

Other: He tries to hide it, but when a woman tries to flirt with him, he gets really flustered.

Appearance: Despite the picture, it really only shows off his physique, rather than the normal clothes he wears. Casually, he wears large jeans and and a tank top, covered in large coats with large hoods, and inner pockets that hide smaller weapons like his pistol and tomahawk. He also wears boots and fingerless gloves. When hiding among the humans, he's usually avoiding large crowds or anyone that may get close enough to see past the shadows of his coat's hood. To hide his hair, he slicks it back with water before pulling the hood over his head.



Equipment/weapons:

• Barreta 90
• Iron Tomahawk
• Earbuds that are synched to a radio frequency that only the Trolls of Staten Island have access to.
• Knife

History: Kinjabal was born and raised in Manhattan...well, raised the way trolls are raised anyway. His life on its own was always filled with a sense of longing. Like other trolls, he wanted to live out in the world as an equal, but he was raised to believe that humans would treat him and the rest of his kind either as barbarians or even monsters. As a child, he thought that it was foolish of humans to think that way, when most had probably never have seen one for themselves at this day and age. As an adult, he carries a bit of that thought process, only with a better understanding behind the reasoning behind it.

Unlike what most would believe, Kinjabal didn't train all his life to become a warrior. In truth, he's was more a mischief maker. Instead of lifting rocks and boulders and bags of produce and all matter of other idiotic sounding strength "exercises" to become strong, he focused more on annoying and enraging others. He started off by tossing pebbles, then moved on to a slingshot as he got older. By the time he was considered a teenager, he was one of the most skilled marksman in the tribe, and proud to boot.

He joined the ranks on a whim, as mischief had become boring to him back then. Other trolls managed to train and discipline the young Kinjabal, and influence his views on the state of things. He became aware of the general wellbeing of the tribe, and found a responsibility to fulfill their shared dream of living out of the hiding. Though he still have a bit of his mischievous self, his first and foremost thoughts belong to his loyalty to his people.

[Bombardier]

�

Name: Luke Friedhold
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Species: Werewolf
Rank: Beta/Library Assistant

Personality: _{βeta as fuck}
Luke is a bit odd in comparison to the other werewolves, seemingly not wanting to harm anyone or anything, being outwardly more humane. Using human technology, reading human books, and just taking a general liking to them, the man happens to possess a trait that has doomed many men throughout the books he's read, ambition. The only thing balancing his hunger for power are his fears and attempts to be what he considers a moral individual. Due to his fears, Luke tries to make himself prepared for any situation and carries around a lot of gear, and in his attempt to be moral he usually ends up serving as a diplomat. Luke is rather reserved in relation to his pack, but to his friends he is a kindhearted man.

Those aren't the reasons he is beta. Intelligent, efficient, and cunning, when wronged he can forget about his desire of being a good individual. At times his vindictiveness can overpower everything else about him, and it is then that Luke is one of the deadliest in his pack.

Other: He is a vegetarian.

Appearance: Luke stands at an unmenacing 5'9" and sports a skinny build. He keeps his black hair short and spiked, this in addition to gray eyes, an angular face, and sharp features makes many consider his human exterior attractive. The man's lightly tanned body is surprisingly near hairless unlike his fellow wolves' human form. The second in command sports a casual attire consisting of a shirt, jeans, and running shoes. The job of keeping him warm is covered by a black hooded coat and matching gloves, and underneath all of this he always conceals a ballistic vest. Among the list of things he always has on him are his rucksack and his watch.

Wolf form- Some of his features carry on into his wolf form in the form of his black fur and grey eyes. Unlike his human form Luke appears skeletal in his wolf form and his fur is unkempt with black tendrils sticking out in all directions. The unhealthy guise deceives his opponents, for he is still as strong as any other werewolf, in most cases stronger. Luke's demeanor switches from confident to jittery and jumpy when transforming from human to wolf, and nothing alludes to his incredible speed and reflexes.

Equipment & Weapons

Hand
Umbrella

Pocket
Machine pistol
Extra Magazines x2
Enchanted flashlight attachment
Ballistic knife x2
Condom
Phone
Mints x23

Wallet

$60
ID
Gift card x2
Metrocard
Library Card

Rucksack
Wooden stake x3
Bottle of holy water
Multitool
Lighter
Map of Bronx
Map of Manhattan
First aid kit
Box of Cards
Ballistic mask
Guide to Mythical Creatures
Guide to War
Picture of mother

History: Luke doesn't recall much of his early childhood. According to the wolves' who found him crying in the woods his mother was killed by some hunters and the same hunters must've scooped the boy up from his home before leaving him in the forest for whatever reason. Soon after his first contact with the pack he received a photo of his mother from his aunt, however none of the wolves have seen his father due to the couple's desire to keep their relationship and illegitimate child secret. If not for the similar features and lil toddler Luke whining his name, his aunt wouldn't have recognized him. He lived with the pack and when he came of schooling age the boy reentered human society, instantly fascinated by all that he could grasp of it. History! Politics! Weapons! Humans surely were a species all their own. The teen got into many fights with other pack members which resulted in either Luke finishing the fight swiftly or losing a long drawn out fight; the prior happened majority of the time. After finishing high school Luke got a job at the library he loved so much, at first as a pager and then as a library assistant. Now that a war could possibly kill much of what he loves, the man is attempting to find his father and his possible step-family along with attempting to make ties with the right members of other factions. He will do anything to avoid a war.

[AtlasRedfox]

Removed.

[Fetzen]

Hrrstag

Name

Hrrstag

Age

19

Gender

Male

Species

Gargoyle

Rank

Ordinary member of the Manhattan Clan

Personality

He's a hot-head. Not that he's especially loud or more convinced of himself than others are of themselves, but there often are many ideas roaming around in his head and once he has focused on one of them, you better get out the big chains quickly and wrap him in them tightly before he starts to let off steam, possibly mumbling something about a belief in 'speed and power'. He definitely doesn't lack cognitive ability, but experience, patience - and a bit of emotional continuity. Especially since the rumours of an upcoming war are spreading, one can feel how strained his nerves are.

Other

-

Appearance

Hrrstag's skin feels rigid, rough and is dominated entirely by a dark gray hue. He's got a mane of long hair one can discover a bit of a blue opalescence in, but the most noticeable features of his head likely are his coiled horns and piercing eyes. Hrrstag is 'only' 6'8" what makes him short by gargoyle standards, but having a closer look will quickly revise the first impression of him being a weakling. In fact, almost every inch of his body could be used as an example for pure... savagery.

Equipment

He tailored himself a large, hooded cloak he can hide his sharp skeletal extensions and wings under if he packs them tightly together. Whilst this certainly isn't a disguise that would survive a close inspection, it at least saves him from having to walk around naked and being discovered immediately. Aside from that he doesn't posess anything worth mentioning, especially no weapons.

History

One night, the Manhattan Clan found a small crate someone must have placed on top of their skyscraper in an unobserved moment. There was a document attached to it in which the anonymous parents pleaded for accepting their yet unhatched son. They stated that they had been expelled from their clan and did not want their child having to grow up under the conditions they were now confronted with and not to be associated with their disrepute.

There was quite a debate about what to do in the situation the Clan found itself confronted with and an investigation was started. Thanks to it, it is known today who they are, which clan they were expelled from and for what reason. The proof the other clan provided wasn't totally convincing, but the present location of Hrrstag's parents is not known as they hid away.

Hrrstag was raised within the Manhattan Clan, but it was not always easy for him as there was noone specific he could always talk to and neither did everyone accept him at once. This all has settled, but if someone gets in trouble or caused such, he's still often the first guess.