The City of Blood and Wolves
Every city has a secret. A darker side, one hidden in secret and shadow. In this city, turning down the wrong alleyway could be the biggest mistake of your life. Will you fall victim to the City that Bleeds or are you one of the many residents that are helping run up the body count? Come to Covaire City, the City that Bleeds, and watch how quickly your heart begins to race in fear.
❝ Strength is the mark of a man, but loyalty is the mark of the beast. ❞
✒ Background: Though Aidric’s change into a werewolf had never been a choice, he couldn’t imagine his life without it. It changed the very foundation of his being — turned him into the man that he is today.
Aidric lived a very mobile life growing up. His parents were always on the move. They taught him about guns — the different types, assembling them, using them properly, and shooting with a steady arm. It took Aidric a few years, but by the time he was fifteen, his parents finally saw him fit to let him in on the family secret. Not that Aidric was particularly surprised to find out that his parents were involved in a dangerous occupation (and one that didn’t pay well enough at that, considering how they lived out of their car on most nights), but werewolf hunters? Aidric wasn’t raised to believe in fairy tales. He didn’t understand why they expected him to change his mind on that before he had even figured out how to get a girl to kiss him.
They began taking him on their hunting trips, making him observe while they sought out entire packs to bring down. They and a few others would ambush werewolves — take them by surprise. The idea brought Aidric to sickness. He’d never been a sentimental boy, but he did know right from wrong, and slaughtering for the sake of it was wrong — even if they were werewolves.
When he brought these concerns to his parents, they chastised him. They said that werewolves were dangerous, and if they weren’t, then they wouldn’t be hunted. Aidric found it hard to believe at first, but as time moved on, he began to share their philosophy. Werewolves were dangerous. Why else would they promote the mass slaughtering of an entire species? It wasn’t long before Aidric was going on hunts with his family, putting his skill with guns to use. Most of his talent lay in distance, patiently watching through a scope for the enemy to emerge before putting a bullet in their head. That isn’t to say that he was incapable of closer distances, but his team put his strengths to use.
Somewhere down the lines, Aidric fell for a woman named Josephine. She hunted with his family on the regular, and despite being at least ten years younger than Aidric at the time, she was almost as equally skilled. He trained her to the best of his ability, teaching her the code of their group: Hunting only the dangerous wolves, and never leaving someone to die. When she asked what qualified as a dangerous wolf, Aidric had no answer. The seed of doubt should have been planted then, but it wasn’t. It hadn’t even occurred to him how heavily he had been brainwashed until seven years later, when he was forty-two.
It had been a particularly stressful hunt. The group was exhausted, dehydrated, and hungry. But they pushed on. Aidric settled himself up and away from pack of wolves as his group worked on their own skills for an ambush. He stared through the scope of the rifle and waited. Ten minutes passed. Fifteen. He knew they could be waiting for hours before something happened, and just as he was getting ready to settle down and get used to the discomfort, he heard movement behind him.
One wolf had gone unaccounted for in their sweep, and it caused for Aidric to be blindsided. He tried to fight the wolf off, but to no avail. The gunshots and shouts alerted the group to trouble, and believing that their ambush had backfired, they ran, leaving Aidric to fend for himself. If he hadn’t pumped the wolf full of silver bullets, he surely would have died. As it was, when the wolf retreated, Aidric was left with nothing more than some scratches and a bite.
Aidric’s survival training hadn’t included how to handle situations on his own. No one went on a solo hunt, and no one returned without someone else. It was part of their code, and it had been strictly enforced. Of course, Aidric had never seen any of the other hunters get attacked like he had, so he had never seen that part of the code come into play. He figured that since no one had encountered that situation before, they were ill-prepared. So Aidric had been forced to fend for himself before he wound up back at the hotel they had been staying at — starving, dehydrated, and beyond exhausted.
He sought help, believing his friends would lend him assistance. But when he arrived with that bloody bite on his shoulder, even Josephine treated him with nothing but coldness. His own father said that the only way they could help him now was to “put him down,” as if he were some sort of rabid dog. Aidric protested, insisting that he wasn’t dangerous — that if the bite took, he would never lash out against others. That didn’t stop them. They knew that if Aidric had managed to survive the wildnerness on his own, bitten and injured, then the bite wouldn’t kill him. It would take. Aidric barely managed to escape, taking one of the group’s cars and speeding out of town until he had no clue where he was.
A full three years passed before Aidric resurfaced. He had been biding his time, tracking down the group of hunters that had preached one thing, but turned their back on not only their methods, but on Aidric. Aidric, who had trusted and believed them without a doubt. Aidric, who had been loyal to a fault. Aidric, who honestly believed that he had been doing the world some good by hunting what had been “dangerous.” Knowing that he had been lied to, Aidric came to the logical conclusion that he had slaughtered hundreds of innocent wolves. He spent months in mourning — and though he wasn’t much of a religious man, he prayed for forgiveness. He did whatever he could to feel some sort of redemption in himself. He became obsessed with making things right.
And when the time finally came, he sought out the group of hunters one more time, tracking them down to a small town in Minnesota. Aidric played his game as he was taught. He waited patiently, watching from a distance. With keen senses, he kept his gaze through the scope of a rifle and watched the people he thought had his back, waiting for the opportune moment.
Then, one by one, he fired bullet after bullet and brought them down. The only time he stopped was to watch the panicked frenzy Josephine put herself in as she tried to protect herself and her group. The hesitance hadn’t been for remorse. In fact, Aidric wanted to savor this death above all the others — the death of the one who betrayed him the most. When the last hunter fell, Aidric never looked back. He spent the next two years trying to redeem himself, living life through the eyes of a wolf. He killed the hypocrites that called themselves hunters — defenders, even.
Still believing he wasn’t worthy of forgiveness, Aidric sought out Covaire after hearing rumors of its existence. He didn’t want the protection — but he wanted to offer his own. He wanted to patrol the city’s boarders, making sure they remained safe. He knew how hunters worked from a very personal perspective, and he knew how to fight them better than the rest.
✒ Secret: Aidric’s loathing for what he’s done extends beyond the need for forgiveness. He hates not just his past, but who he is. He believes that his past as a hunter has tainted everything about him, and that it will be impossible to scrub his hands clean of the blood. Aidric considers his self-hatred a weakness, and would never inform anyone of this in the event they use it against him.
✒ Personality: Aidric’s work ethic is strong. Not a single moment goes by when he’s not thinking about the city and its well being. Every action he takes is dedicated to Covaire. His strong sense of professionalism can be a tough image to crack. He’s all work and no play. But underneath all of that, he’s a very stressed man, prone to his own self-destructive vices. Prone to beating himself down until he believes he’s scum, Aidric is in a constant state of inner turmoil. Rarely does this ever show through his tough exterior. To others, he’s nothing short of the hard-working man they see on a constant basis. He endures a majority of his struggle alone, knowing full well how people could use this weakness against him. The fact that he was betrayed by people so close to him only strengthens his distrust of others, leading him to believe that if he ever gets close to someone, he will suffer dearly for it. He keeps his distance, remaining unattached. Despite his disengagement from others, Aidric’s loyalty is unmatched. He admires his Alpha and would give his own life for him.
As a werewolf supremist, Aidric believes that his species triumphs above all others. He believes that his perspective as an ex-hunter only further strengthens his argument, because he knows precisely how difficult it is to bring a beast down. He knows the planning and dedication that goes into it. Aidric would take great pride in being a werewolf himself if he felt as if he deserved it. As it is, his pride comes from making the lives of the werewolves in Covaire easier by contributing to their safety.
❧ Open|| Reserved || Taken
❝ Wolf is just a sugarcoated word for mongrel. ❞
✒ Background: He was born in 348 AD in Acidava, Dacia., now known as Enosesti, Olt Country, Romania. They lived in close range to the Danube River and he came from a family of fishing vendors. Dragos had a healthy relationship with both parents, both loving and kind, but moreso with his mother. That became further apparent when his father volunteered for the Roman army. Dragos and his mother lived in constant worry and wonder if their patriarch would live and return to them, however they never let it keep them from living their lives. The two of them kept the family business going yet without his father, they didn’t catch as many fish. So to help pay for their living and home, his mother agreed to allow soldiers to stay. Only those who were injured or in need of rest stranded too far from home. Dragos witnessed his mother’s natural caretaking skills come to light. He helped as well, however he was far more interested in hearing stories of battle and of their homelands. One particular day of curiosity brought forth a sorrowful story. The soldier had unknowingly spoken of Dragos’ father’s death. His mother grieved upon hearing the news, and the words had the opposite effect on Dragos; He wanted revenge.
The young teenager’s focus was put forth into building his skills and had many mentors in the soldiers who took rest under their roof. His mother was against his learning and if the need for vengeance hadn’t consumed him, Dragos would have listened to her. Year after year, he sparred with soldiers well and willing enough to do so. At 17, he made the journey to find the man in change of the great army. Many laughed at the boy for his insistence to join as they knew who his father was, however the commander was impressed and soon recruited Dragos. Under the commander’s tutelage, he fought well and hard, proving to be a determined, loyal asset for the army. The other soldiers often thought Dragos could not hear their jokes about his father, often speaking as if he wouldn’t know what they were referring to, and never did he allow himself to react. Dragos only let their cruelty fuel his need for revenge, using it as inspiration on the battlefield. Fight after fight he proved to have much heart. “More heart than your father possessed,” the commander would comment, knowing Dragos would see the respect he held for his father. It both humbled and saddened him, but Dragos knew his father would be proud and honored.
The Battle of Adrianople was waged when the army arrived in 378. Although at a poor disadvantage without supplies to keep them strong in heat bearing down upon them, Dragos was determined to keep fighting. He would not die in war like his father. Soon though, he would mourn the loss of his commander. It didn’t occur to Dragos that without the word of the fallen commander to protect him, that he would be at the mercy of the other soldiers. And after the Battle of Constantinople, the other men turned on him. Dragos had no knowledge of where they had taken him, but there were others captured beside him. Bound in chains, Dragos listened while the strange cultists spoke of how they killed his father with the aid of the traitorous soldiers. The leader of the following told Dragos that he was far too pretty to be killed needlessly and would instead be used as a slave for tasks about camp ranging from cleaning to sex if the men so desired. Dragos would have rather fought to the death than abide by the ruling of the man, however he knew he was in no position to defend himself. Setting aside his pride, he accepted his fate. The menial chores bothered him little, however when he was used for sex it was overly rough and one-sided. Many nights were spent hidden in shame as he brought himself to release, the aching of constant denial too much to endure.
The better part of a month passed, yet Dragos still was unaccustomed to the way things were. But as the full moon rose, he saw for himself what was so different about his captors. Before his very eyes, they turned into beasts; Wolves that howled for the moon and left to slaughter under the light that controlled them. It was clear as it was terrifying because he knew the truth, and the wolves used his fear to ensure he never disobey. Dragos felt weak but he didn’t dare trying to fight their demands even if it meant his own pain. They overpowered him far too easily and so he believed there was no hope in ever breaking free. Dragos’ luck changed one night, and while he was fetching water from the well he was approached by a mysterious woman. She was nothing like his captors, her touch too cold when the wolves was warm, sometimes burning hot. The lady was curious, asking many questions, but Dragos had lost his friendly touch, offering little conversation. Yet when Dragos turned to go inside, the stranger was on him so fast attacking . Left to writhe in agony, Dragos knew he could have offered her kindness and avoided his fate. Stumbling in, the bite was spotted right off and in a blur he was taken to the torture chamber where they unleashed a level of violence they never did before. Bringing him to the point of begging, they wanted Dragos to know without any doubt that if any rebellion or escape occurred they would track him down and kill him as they should have in the first place.
Century after century passed for Dragos as he was made to endlessly serve the wolves, who only became more harsh as time went on, to keep fresh the fear and obedience embedded in his mind. On some occasions he would be left chained, kept from feeding for countless days. It was a means to torment other servants and if they starved Dragos long enough, they knew the vampire would drain the one thrown at him without thought. Many times he wished hunger would take him to his grave but never was he that fortunate. The centuries droned on and Dragos met each one with new vervain-laced scars that would never heal to always remind him what he was and who he served. The day he finally lost hope was the day that everything changed. A mercenary wolf arrived, hired to do work for the pack and was in turn refused payment for his services. As the wolf left in a fury, Dragos was discreetly tipped off that there was a sword nearby left unattended. It seemed so crazy at first, to go for the sword and kill his way out when all Dragos knew was that he would never succeed and die trying. It was then or never. In the end it was easier than he thought, cutting through the wolves like it was nothing. Dragos gorged himself in the bloodshed, draining at least two of the wolves and decapitating all those near at hand with a single slash. No time was wasted as his supernatural speed took him into the night, yet no matter how long he searched there was no sign of the one who gave him the chance at freedom.
Dragos went into hiding and managed to stay out of sight in his travels for years. He ventured to places he only dreamed about before, seeing sights never before imagined. Returning to where he was born was far from an option as he knew the wolf pack had a far reach and he would not be safe. Dragos needed to get far and fast. Stowing away on the next ship to America covered in a stolen cloak, Dragos set off to a new life. Docking in New York, he never stayed in one place too long. He stuck out no matter where he was as he remained set in old times and made his money on an old trade along the coasts; Fishing. He fashioned a home within the boat he used with the thought it would be a quick and easy getaway should the need arise. It was only by the currents of the ocean and following the Eastern Coast that he came to find Covaire. Buying his way into the city from the harbor, Dragos wandered the streets in awe that was unmatched by any he had felt before. There was a vampire king, a wolf Alpha, and many humans coexisting amidst the city walls. His initial intention was to stay just long enough to raid the waters for fish, sell, and leave to the next town but it was far from simple as that. Dragos didn’t like that the wolf pack was so strong in numbers but there was an undeniable magnetic force keeping him there. Some part of himself could truly see staying longer than he’d stayed before in one place.
✒ Secret: Much in the same way that soldiers are profoundly affected after wars, Dragos still experiences occasional post-traumatic stress. Certain things trigger him and he suddenly doesn’t know where he is and thinks everyone around him is against him. There are also instances when he still has the servant frame of mind and a panicked hysteria briefly overcomes him as if believing he should be offering his services less their be hell to pay. It fades away just as quickly and he feels disgust that such old memories still have a grasp on him.
✒ Personality: The wear and tear over the many centuries that he endured at the hands of the wolves has made Dragos a vile creature. He cares nothing for anyone else and has little to no feelings or emotions other than hostility and grudge. Being a vampire doesn’t bother him, but the unnaturalness of living forever pulls at him once in awhile. Living forever is monotonous, but then with passing time he knows he gets stronger. His body is riddled with scars and none of them are anything Dragos is ashamed of, truly making him an example of “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” For someone who seems like he has a ticking time bomb for a temper, he’s much more responsible and rational than many assume. One still should be mindful, his patience and humor only lasts so long before annoyance takes place. Dragos harbors pure loathing for wolves, limitless and irrational as it may seem, it has spread to a species-wide grudge against the beasts. There’s nothing about them he enjoys aside from their warmth, yet even that unsettles him with the memory of what was usually paired with it. Smart as he is strong, most of what he does is premeditated. Never does Dragos go into something blindly. He’s unforgiving and mean as the most poisonous of snakes.
❧ Open|| Reserved || Taken
❝ There comes a point in a man’s life when he has to take a step back and just say….fuck it. ❞
✒ Background: Born in the fall of 1976, Matt Powell was the first child born to an upper middle class family living in the suburbs of Pittsburgh. When Matt was two, his family welcomed his little brother Mike. The moment his brother was born, Matt’s parents found a competitive edge forming even in a kid as young as Matt was. This would continue on as the boys grew up, especially when it came to sports. Football was Matt’s forte, playing the sport from pee-wee all the way through high school. His brother Mike was more apt to the sport of baseball, the star pitcher that led his high school team to be state champions.
When it came to college, both ended up at Penn State University which was several hours away from his parents. During Matt’s senior year of college, his father suffered a heart attack which led to his little brother transferring to a college closer to home, ultimately giving up his dream of playing in the major leagues to help take care of his mom. With only a few weeks left before he graduated, Matt stayed at Penn State. Once he graduated, his mother and brother put pressure on him to move back to Pittsburgh but Matt had other plans.
Finding a job at one of the country’s biggest financial firms in New York City, he left the state of Pennsylvania for good. Matt’s personality and sharp mind led him to a promotion two years after starting at the firm. His paycheck grew substantially and he was soon living quite the life in the big city. When he met a girl at local bar named Lisa, the two instantly hit it off. While he wasn’t ready for committing before that point, Lisa was too good to let get away. Life seemed to be going in the right direction, meanwhile, his contact with his mom and brother became less and less.
He and Lisa ended up eloping after three years in Niagra Falls. Two years after that, they welcomed a baby girl named Ella. With a new child in their lives, apartment living seemed to be difficult. They invested then in a brownstone in Brooklyn and it was the stress that came with the family life that took Matt to find a new hobby, which ended up being gambling. Card games with his coworkers once a week turned into games with strangers several nights a week. He was good at it and made good money, but his home life was slowly starting to fall apart. His wife was always threatening to leave him, Matt always making promises he couldn’t seem to keep to fix things.
One night, Matt was at an underground card game when he received a frantic call from a neighbor. There had been a gas leak in the building resulting in an explosion, Lisa and Ella didn’t survive. The event sent Matt in a downward spiral, ditching work for endless card games, gambling away what money he had. Calls from his brother and mother were never returned and after two years, Matt was completely broke.
Making promises of payment with money he didn’t have, Matt made himself a target to many. One of those men happened to have a connection to a city that Matt could only believe if he saw it, and it was only a matter of time before he did. Thrown in a black van after not paying up to a very greedy wolf, the broken human was shipped to Covaire.
✒ Secret: After he ran out of money, Matt found himself giving sexual favors for money. It was his lowest moment but also woke up a part of him that he didn’t know existed, that he enjoyed men. He found himself seeking it out more, not just for the money but how much he enjoyed dominating those of the same gender.
When one of these men threatened to out him after a heated argument about payment, Matt strangled him, leaving him near death in an alley.
✒ Personality: Matt is very charismatic and loves to make people laugh. He himself can be incredibly charming and flirtatious, always knowing the right things to say to feed a woman or man’s ego. It’s this personality that got him so far in life but the darker parts of him are what eventually had him sent to Covaire.
The darkness was fueled by greed and was only made stronger when he lost his wife and daughter. He savors domination and telling others what to do, making them putty in his hands, especially in the bedroom. It’s as if a switch flips when he feels threatened or strangely enough turned on that brings this on.
❧ Open|| Reserved || Taken