Asuu

Easy Money [Heist RP]

I'm just reading this RP since it's cool, but you should totally do first-person, imo. Your character is hilarious in first person.

Werewolves are Endangered? Reboot [Starting soon!]

Oh lordie.

Werewolves are Endangered? Reboot [Starting soon!]

Lol, yeah, I know it's more about the Greyville pack. I just figured that, as a hunter, Dimitri would also being taking out other Werewolves on the side. I've a feeling that the bar will be packed soon, with everyone in there, so I don't think I'm gonna have Dimitri be around there for now.

Werewolves are Endangered? Reboot [Starting soon!]

I'm assuming that there's more werewolves than the ones you gais made, and I'd think that some would go mad enough to live in caves. It would make it a bit droll if every werewolf ever lived in apartments.

αттα¢к gιяℓѕ ѕωιм тєαм νѕ тнє υη∂єα∂

i cringe

Werewolves are Endangered? Reboot [Starting soon!]

Welp, a post with Dimitri. I'm liking him so far.

Are the werewolves tall, hairy, anthro wolves, or just larger than normal wolves, like in the Twilight movies?

Werewolves are Endangered? Reboot [Starting soon!]

He had been expecting it, honestly. The man had been expecting the anonymously scouted Werewolf cavern to be...stank, but this was a bit above what he had previously assumed. A figure stood in the dark of the forest, dark blue - or were they black, eyes narrowed as he peered into the lip of a shady, unassuming cave. On the cave's entrance, deep claw marks grazed along the rock, apparently by razor-sharp wolf nails, but this wasn't what made him pause.

No...it was the pure amount of stink that came out of the cave. It smelled...like wet, furry dog, a dog that had been decomposing in the desert sun for the past few months, without disintegrating. There was also the smell of shit, piss, and blood, but the blood seemed fresh, while the other scents were stale. Stale, but still there.

The figure twitched, and finally got the feeling of his nose back into place. The figure was tall, a bit taller than most Americans, with a muscular build, even obvious from under the dark clothing he wore. The clothing was tough; a form-fitting, long-sleeved black shirt, black gloves, dark, rugged jeans, and dark brown combat boots that held two straps on both sides, the long, metal hilt of two knives evident in the straps. A studded belt was wrapped around his waist, and it held numerous, compact black pouches on each loop; although, what was in the pouches, was a mystery.

The man's face held the scruffy remains of a shaven beard, and his close-cutted, dark blonde hair blended in well with his surroundings. In his gloved right fist, he held a razor-sharp, jagged combat knife, the silver metal of the knife not even glinting in the moonlight, while, in his right hand, a dark black pistol was evident. His eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, and although most would make a snarky, annoying joke about wearing sunglasses at night, these sunglasses obviously had multiple uses, the most prominent one being that it allowed him to see as clear as day, even in the night. Not to mention that it hid his eyes, allowing him to stare and focus on things/people without anyone seeing.

The man gripped his combat knife tighter, while his finger edged over the trigger of his pistol. He took a glance at the motorcycle, practically invisible in the darkness, hidden nearby. Without a second thought, he silently dashed into the cave.

_______________________________________

Werewolves were strong beings, but wild, unrefined...and generally unskilled. Dimitri cleanly slammed a stone-hard fore-arm against the snarling wolf's swing, his arm wrapping around the other beast's arm, while his knife-hand darted forward, the silver, razor-sharp blade easily tearing through fur and flesh to reach deep within the beast's heart. Kicking it away, the Russian Hunter watched dispassionately as the beastial wolf slowly formed back into the dead, wild form of a hairy, dirty man. This pack of wolves, hidden in the forest and mountains near Greyville, was one of the disgusting packs that preyed on innocent humans for no reason, other than their maddening lust for food, glory, and worthlessness. All around him, in one of the cave's stony areas, the bodies of gutted, stabbed, and generally dead werewolves littered the floor. Gas was slick on the stone ground, and as Dimitri began to walk away, one hand in his pocket, the Hunter flicked his cigarette - a guilty, once a month pleasure - and sped up slightly as it landed in the gas.

The rev of a sleek motorcycle blasted through the mountains, as the cave collapsed in on itself, the fire having spread to take over the rocky maze.

αттα¢к gιяℓѕ ѕωιм тєαм νѕ тнє υη∂єα∂

mi char is totes animu now

Oh God, what am I even doing with my life?

Antiquity - A Different Type of God Game

I personally think that we should go with a sort of tone that befits our image. Something quietly powerful, words calm, direct, and invigorating. We do not need to scream and throw around power to make them pleased; auras are something that people can't really see, but I think that they can feel it...and our aura should be one of power, composure, and utter calmness. We look down on possible enemies with an apathetic, cold stare that would make them bow before us, so that we don't even have to waste time, while we treat our allies and servants to a calm leader that won't flinch, our words filling them with moral and calming any doubts. That's my thoughts on the matter.

Werewolves are Endangered? Reboot [Starting soon!]

Dimitri Kozlov

Name: Dimitri Kozlov

Age: 23

Appearance: Dimitri is a tall, muscular young man, his physique stream-lined and chiseled from years upon years of arduous training and physical exercise. His face is considered 'handsome', with a clearly defined jawline, and strong cheekbones. A minor scuffle could be seen dusting his face, a natural dirty blonde, the exact same as his hair - which is naturally cut short to his head, to avoid anyone gripping it in a fight. His eyes, however, are a dark blue, almost appearing black in different pieces of sunlight. Multiple long, pale scars on evident on his torso and back, with the most prominent one being the three deep, jagged marks scraping across his chest and down his abs. Generally wears a thick, form-fitting, dark-colored long-sleeved shirt, rugged jeans, and combat boots, along with a leather jacket thrown over it, sewn in with Kevlar. Can never be too careful, and he's pretty used to cold and hot temps.

Species/Occupation: Human/Hunter

Background: Dimitri was born in Moscow, Russia, underneath two war-weathered parents; Aleksandr Kozlov, and Marie Kozlov. His father was a veteran from the Spetznaz forces, while his mother was a former soldier in the Marines, having been honorably discharged after a grenade ended with her left arm being torn to shreds. How the two managed to find love in each other, Dimitri would never know; while his father was strict, gruff, cold, and incredibly ruthless in the training of Dimitri, his mother was soft, kind, and gentle, always there with warm treats and cold bottles of water. That's another thing...his training.

Aleksandr Kozlov was both a Spetznaz veteran, and a former Werewolf-Hunter, having to retire from both due to old age, and PTSD. While this made the man quite brutal, it also made him force Dimitri to follow into his footsteps - and not for a bad reason, either. Werewolves - specifically, feral ones - were dangerous, this Dimitri knew from a young age. At first, up to the age of seven, he didn't know what he was training for. His father always made him do pushups, squats, and sprints down the snow-frozen road whenever he was awake and not eating/hydrating, always stopping and limiting the repetitions so that it was just under enough to not have any effect on Dimitri's physical growth. Weapons training and close quarters combat had already began, back when he was six.

Pistols, assault rifles, shotguns...he was a crackshot, naturally skilled in any firearm that was brought before him. Obviously, he was kept to smaller, less destructive weaponry, as his relatively small stature - albeit big for his age - would make it incredibly difficult and inefficient to train with. Krav Maga; it's basic stances and attacks were taught to him as his 'main' chosen fighting style, although it was more along the lines of his father forcing it upon him. When he turned eight, he was brought on his first 'mock mission', which wasn't a mock mission at all.

His father had tracked down a wandering, feral werewolf that preyed on cattle and smaller children that would wander away from their parents, in the park. Seeing his father rip open the werewolf's chest, and give him the silver knife...Dimitri was confused. Sorely confused. But when he saw the corpses of the children, he plunged the dagger down without hesitation. That was the start.

Years passed, and Dimitri was trained with the brutality of a Demon from hell. He became an immensely capable marksman, a master of Krav Maga, and extremely competent and lethal when it came to the art of fighting with melee weapons - he began taking Werewolf Hunting missions at the age of twelve, going for the Werewolves that was blatantly harming others due to lack of mental awareness, or general insanity and love for violence. Life continued on like this, with Dimitri becoming a strong, intelligent, brave young man that did what he had to do in his forced line of work. His mother had passed away due to an illness - something that affected Dimitri greatly, and seemed to inspire his father's fiery ire even more. Finally, the man keeled over from a stress-filled cardiac arrest, on Dimitri's twentieth birthday.

Ever since then, Dimitri has been travelling the globe, always on the case whenever reports of wild werewolf attacks sprung up, or whenever mysterious sightings or murders breezed the grapevine.

Relationships: Thomas Young...Dimitri's partner. They met in Alaska, while Dimitri was hunting a group of feral Werewolves. It was an...interesting predicament, with Thomas managing to stop Dimitri from executing an innocent female Werewolf that had been planning on escaping her wild, out of controlled friends. Yvette was picked up, as his second partner, as they were leaving the frozen state.

It snowballed from there.