Post by pope on Dec 4, 2009 16:15:05 GMT -5
Name: Pius Xystus Boniface
Nick Name: Pope
Race: Werewolf
Gender: Male
Age: 336
Appearance:
*Hair: Dark Brown, He normally kept short and easily manageable.
*Eyes: Dark Brown Eyes
*Wear: Pope’s clothes normally change to keep with the times. He had once lost his favorite long coat during one of the beginning incursions of the Lost War. However in the time between then and now he has gone through a couple and now has one just like the coat he used to, broken in and everything. Other than that it is whatever is causal and close. He doesn’t like to dress up but will if he has to. Under his clothes against his skin he wears around his neck the ring that he had bought for Kitty when he was asking her to marry him. He hasn't taken it off in 19 years, nor has he allowed himself to love again.
Normally Pope could be found wearing his favorite long, brown leather trench coat. (Since lost during the "Devil's Night" thread.) It show signs of wear from years upon years of use, experience has taught him that such bulk is good for concealing whatever weapons he might have on his person at the time. Underneath he keeps it simple, usually dons a form-fitting shirt (imagine under armor), should he need to get away he doesn't want anything to get caught up with baggy clothes. For pants, it cargo style all those pockets good to keep things in, extra ammo, rations etc. He also wears steel-toed boots....
Weapon: Pope has always been a “weapons” type guy. He has a small arsenal close at hand however to carry on his person he carries his faithful old .50 D/E’s now with the changing times the can often be little more than noise makers. So the past Seventeen years he has been learning, practicing and mastering melee weapons and blades. He has become a master of the “Butterfly Swords”, 3-sectioned staff & Fighting Sticks, as well as his mastery of the Spanish Keysi fighting technique and method.
He is a master and sharp shooter with small arms & conventional, he can pretty much fire any type of handgun, assualt or specialty with 99.999% accuracy. But his favorite to keep on him is a .50 Desert Eagle. When silence is needed he also keeps a couple throwing knives on him concealed in his boots (one in each) and two push-knives hidden in his belt buckle. Though he doesn't carry it on him all the time he does have a 50 Cal (M107) sniper rifle with laser sighted scope.
However that was in the past, and his cache of weapons has been lost. He only carries a cobat knife on him these days but he is well versed enough to turn anything at hand into a potential weapon.
History: (Pope was born in Spain during the late 17th century, to common church going, God-fearing parents who had hoped that such a blessed name would deliver them from the evil that plagued the lands. The eldest of 6 children he became the man of the house at an early age when his father was wrongfully accused of being a werewolf that had been plaguing the simple village and murdered in the public square. Being forced from his native home he, his mother and 5 siblings packed up and moved to a coastal area where they were able to start over. It was harsh especially for his mother; she did what she needed to do in order to put food in the mouths of her children. Swearing to himself his mother would never have to do such he took up a life as a ship hand on a Privateering vessel headed for the Spanish Main...
On one raid they encountered an English Merchant vessel and attacked, eventually boarding when they found more than just cotton and tobacco. This ship was transporting human cargo or what looked to be human at the time. Claiming the passengers and the goods for their own, they set sail to port to divide up the take-of-the-day and sell off the "rescued" passengers as slaves. They were making good time with the wind full in their sails when in trek there was an outburst from the lower levels.
These "passengers" had turned werewolves they attacked the crew killing most as they seized control of the ship. This is when Pope was first bitten, managing to steal a skiff and escape death at the jaws of one of the vicious beast he made it to a small island with the aide of another crew mate... an unbitten crew mate. Luckily for his friend they did not spend too long on the island before they themselves were picked up by another Spanish Galleon heading back to Hispaniola. He spent many years wandering the Spanish Main, cursed when he happened across a band of pirates that was actually Captained and Crewed by Werewolves... Their Captain took mercy upon the boy and offered him a crew spot aboard the "Sea Claw". As the age of the sail and pirates came to an end he found himself in the new colonies of England during the time of revolution, lending out his "services" to the Colonist working as a mercenary as so many of their kind did during those times. Using his wits and keen sense to keep him alive he always stayed around conflict learning what he could about battle, and weapons to both keep himself sharp and useful for the next war to come....
Pope also served in the Civil War, Spanish-American (For Spain), WWI, WWII (Under Britain's Flag), and Vietnam (which was his favorite to say the least...) and various other conflicts during the later 20th century. Very early on in the career of one John Striker, Pope served as CO to the young Sergeant. He never wanted to be anything special, he is content with just being another grunt on the line... in the big picture of things it gives him a sense of worth....
When the War broke out onto the streets of New York, Pope was one of the first to answer the Pack Leader’s howl. The battle was long and vicious; Pope had turned into a monster that he until then thought he had conquered. Many service men fell under his paw and fang for simply following their insane CO’s officers, a man Pope himself took to training early in his military career. It wasn’t until Pope killed one trooper that served 3 tours along his side did the realization hit Pope of who and what he had killed. When he regained his conscious self there was a small mountain of decapitated and disemboweled corpses around him.
After the War was over Pope was left at a loss, the woman he had grown to love disappeared, he had to deal with seeing the faces of those he maimed and mauled while he slept. Pope left the city and traveled aimlessly through the backcountry and wilderness. It wasn’t until he happened a small Canadian town did he hear of a Werewolf up in Alaska teaching the misguided youth of the area. Strangely this wolf matched his old friend Nathan’s description to a “T”. Burning rubber Pope packed up what he could and eagerly set out in search of him.
Meeting up with his old friend and confidant, Pope spent the next fifteen years in Nate’s company using this time to hone his skills with bladed weapons and reflect on the actions and sins of his past. Pius was called Pope but he was far from being a saint. The world changed and Mortal and Immortal became infused into one global culture, Pope used this time to repent and beg forgiveness for death and chaos he caused.
- Extras-
Personality: Some say that the face of war changes people, Pope had seen many battles and been on the frontlines more than he cared to remember. Death was not uncommon to him. However after the Lost War, Pope seemed forever changed and he had set out on the path to contrition leaving him more calm and at peace with himself.
Pope really is a pretty laid back person...He views all life as a struggle and likens everything to battle. The War going on right now.... When it's over, if he is still around he will be ready and rearing to go for the next one. He doesn't fear death but has come to accept that it comes for everyone Mortal and "Immortal" alike. He is a pretty nice guy, especially with the ladies... maybe too nice. For all his good qualities he does have his vices. He likes to smoke and drink, and really likes the company of women. That part of his animal instinct's he gives into... You know what I mean.
Pope's Return: [An excerpt fom: Highway Star (Pope's Return)]
...Pius Xystus Boniface was a man with a tainted past. Former Privateer turned Pirate made his billion dollar fortune looting, killing and pillaging, he was successful at doing one thing and one thing only, ending lives of others. His 300+ years upon this earth he had ended more lives than he cared to even try and recall, he justified it by however he felt he could, it was a fools rationalization. Even when this cursed existence was bestowed upon him and he wandered the Central American jungle aimlessly the only thing he could do to deal with what he had become was kill indiscriminately. At first Pope was suffice to the realization that it was a punishment God had placed upon him for the horrors he had committed against the English Merchant Ships and Navy under Royal License for Privateering.
*Flashback*
“El Diablo debe amarle, porque él me le entregó...” 1 a husky and gruff voice said waking him from his sleep. Lifting his head Pope, squinted his eyes to block out the blinding rays of the morning sun that hid a large silhouette looming over him. In the distance Pope could hear the crashing waves, his memory of the night before was foggy to say the least. The coppery taste of old blood formed a thick film over his teeth and made him almost gag. Not to far from him was the dead body of a villager disemboweled and its throat ripped out. As Pope stood slowly the crusty dried blood flaked off his naked form, and through the surf and salty mist into the air. Pope could see he was standing before seven or eight men with a jovial look upon their face.
“¡Consiga lejos de mí! ¡Me maldicen! ¡Soy un monstruo! ¡Le mataré todo!” 2
He said in a sleepy panic still not fully aware. Of his surroundings, in fact it took a moment for him to register the sounds of their rolling laughter. “Usted intentará el perrito joven..." 3 The gruff shadowy figure spoke once more… It turned out that the Devil did hold Pius in some favor for that morning a band of Lycan Pirates happened upon his God-forsaken soul and showed him what it meant to be a Lycan first and a Pirate second. Over the next forty or so years Pope learned much about himself and how to cope with what he had become, the most important of which taught him that it wasn’t his werewolf that resided inside of him that was the monster, it was really himself he should be wary of.
*End Flashback*
Why can’t things ever be easy?? Why does Fate wait till when you have forgiven yourself of your past sins, buried the ghosts of your past and you no longer see the faces of the ones you killed every time you close your eyes, to just throw you back into what personal hell you foolishly thought you had escaped. Up until six months ago Pope could have died with a clean conscious, but now his past had caught up to him. What do you do when you can’t out run yourself? You give in and hope to make piece with what you had become, but if people are inherently good do they truly ever forgive themselves for these horrors? And if they are inherently evil, well then you’re fucked either way.
Its often said that it is always darkest before dawn, if that was the case Pope hoped that the darkness that consumed him had reached its apex. The first rays of morning were streaking up from beyond the horizon leaving a towering silhouette into foreground that at first looked like a shapeless mass of earth jutting and extending skyward in a dive proclamation of defiance for God’s natural law. Still they rose from the earth to the sky, this place, this city had become his only refuge. In New York Pope could blend in, he knew the city well or at least used to. Pope wondered what it would be like to return, what would be the same and what wouldn’t. Seventeen years in the life of a Lycan isn’t much, however they still lived in a world populated by Humans and they were ever changing. ...
Flashback Translations:
1-The Devil must love you for he delivered you to me….
2-Get away from me! I am cursed! I am a monster! I will kill you all!
3-You will try young pup…
Nick Name: Pope
Race: Werewolf
Gender: Male
Age: 336
Appearance:
*Hair: Dark Brown, He normally kept short and easily manageable.
*Eyes: Dark Brown Eyes
*Wear: Pope’s clothes normally change to keep with the times. He had once lost his favorite long coat during one of the beginning incursions of the Lost War. However in the time between then and now he has gone through a couple and now has one just like the coat he used to, broken in and everything. Other than that it is whatever is causal and close. He doesn’t like to dress up but will if he has to. Under his clothes against his skin he wears around his neck the ring that he had bought for Kitty when he was asking her to marry him. He hasn't taken it off in 19 years, nor has he allowed himself to love again.
Normally Pope could be found wearing his favorite long, brown leather trench coat. (Since lost during the "Devil's Night" thread.) It show signs of wear from years upon years of use, experience has taught him that such bulk is good for concealing whatever weapons he might have on his person at the time. Underneath he keeps it simple, usually dons a form-fitting shirt (imagine under armor), should he need to get away he doesn't want anything to get caught up with baggy clothes. For pants, it cargo style all those pockets good to keep things in, extra ammo, rations etc. He also wears steel-toed boots....
Weapon: Pope has always been a “weapons” type guy. He has a small arsenal close at hand however to carry on his person he carries his faithful old .50 D/E’s now with the changing times the can often be little more than noise makers. So the past Seventeen years he has been learning, practicing and mastering melee weapons and blades. He has become a master of the “Butterfly Swords”, 3-sectioned staff & Fighting Sticks, as well as his mastery of the Spanish Keysi fighting technique and method.
He is a master and sharp shooter with small arms & conventional, he can pretty much fire any type of handgun, assualt or specialty with 99.999% accuracy. But his favorite to keep on him is a .50 Desert Eagle. When silence is needed he also keeps a couple throwing knives on him concealed in his boots (one in each) and two push-knives hidden in his belt buckle. Though he doesn't carry it on him all the time he does have a 50 Cal (M107) sniper rifle with laser sighted scope.
However that was in the past, and his cache of weapons has been lost. He only carries a cobat knife on him these days but he is well versed enough to turn anything at hand into a potential weapon.
History: (Pope was born in Spain during the late 17th century, to common church going, God-fearing parents who had hoped that such a blessed name would deliver them from the evil that plagued the lands. The eldest of 6 children he became the man of the house at an early age when his father was wrongfully accused of being a werewolf that had been plaguing the simple village and murdered in the public square. Being forced from his native home he, his mother and 5 siblings packed up and moved to a coastal area where they were able to start over. It was harsh especially for his mother; she did what she needed to do in order to put food in the mouths of her children. Swearing to himself his mother would never have to do such he took up a life as a ship hand on a Privateering vessel headed for the Spanish Main...
On one raid they encountered an English Merchant vessel and attacked, eventually boarding when they found more than just cotton and tobacco. This ship was transporting human cargo or what looked to be human at the time. Claiming the passengers and the goods for their own, they set sail to port to divide up the take-of-the-day and sell off the "rescued" passengers as slaves. They were making good time with the wind full in their sails when in trek there was an outburst from the lower levels.
These "passengers" had turned werewolves they attacked the crew killing most as they seized control of the ship. This is when Pope was first bitten, managing to steal a skiff and escape death at the jaws of one of the vicious beast he made it to a small island with the aide of another crew mate... an unbitten crew mate. Luckily for his friend they did not spend too long on the island before they themselves were picked up by another Spanish Galleon heading back to Hispaniola. He spent many years wandering the Spanish Main, cursed when he happened across a band of pirates that was actually Captained and Crewed by Werewolves... Their Captain took mercy upon the boy and offered him a crew spot aboard the "Sea Claw". As the age of the sail and pirates came to an end he found himself in the new colonies of England during the time of revolution, lending out his "services" to the Colonist working as a mercenary as so many of their kind did during those times. Using his wits and keen sense to keep him alive he always stayed around conflict learning what he could about battle, and weapons to both keep himself sharp and useful for the next war to come....
Pope also served in the Civil War, Spanish-American (For Spain), WWI, WWII (Under Britain's Flag), and Vietnam (which was his favorite to say the least...) and various other conflicts during the later 20th century. Very early on in the career of one John Striker, Pope served as CO to the young Sergeant. He never wanted to be anything special, he is content with just being another grunt on the line... in the big picture of things it gives him a sense of worth....
When the War broke out onto the streets of New York, Pope was one of the first to answer the Pack Leader’s howl. The battle was long and vicious; Pope had turned into a monster that he until then thought he had conquered. Many service men fell under his paw and fang for simply following their insane CO’s officers, a man Pope himself took to training early in his military career. It wasn’t until Pope killed one trooper that served 3 tours along his side did the realization hit Pope of who and what he had killed. When he regained his conscious self there was a small mountain of decapitated and disemboweled corpses around him.
After the War was over Pope was left at a loss, the woman he had grown to love disappeared, he had to deal with seeing the faces of those he maimed and mauled while he slept. Pope left the city and traveled aimlessly through the backcountry and wilderness. It wasn’t until he happened a small Canadian town did he hear of a Werewolf up in Alaska teaching the misguided youth of the area. Strangely this wolf matched his old friend Nathan’s description to a “T”. Burning rubber Pope packed up what he could and eagerly set out in search of him.
Meeting up with his old friend and confidant, Pope spent the next fifteen years in Nate’s company using this time to hone his skills with bladed weapons and reflect on the actions and sins of his past. Pius was called Pope but he was far from being a saint. The world changed and Mortal and Immortal became infused into one global culture, Pope used this time to repent and beg forgiveness for death and chaos he caused.
- Extras-
Personality: Some say that the face of war changes people, Pope had seen many battles and been on the frontlines more than he cared to remember. Death was not uncommon to him. However after the Lost War, Pope seemed forever changed and he had set out on the path to contrition leaving him more calm and at peace with himself.
Pope really is a pretty laid back person...He views all life as a struggle and likens everything to battle. The War going on right now.... When it's over, if he is still around he will be ready and rearing to go for the next one. He doesn't fear death but has come to accept that it comes for everyone Mortal and "Immortal" alike. He is a pretty nice guy, especially with the ladies... maybe too nice. For all his good qualities he does have his vices. He likes to smoke and drink, and really likes the company of women. That part of his animal instinct's he gives into... You know what I mean.
Pope's Return: [An excerpt fom: Highway Star (Pope's Return)]
...Pius Xystus Boniface was a man with a tainted past. Former Privateer turned Pirate made his billion dollar fortune looting, killing and pillaging, he was successful at doing one thing and one thing only, ending lives of others. His 300+ years upon this earth he had ended more lives than he cared to even try and recall, he justified it by however he felt he could, it was a fools rationalization. Even when this cursed existence was bestowed upon him and he wandered the Central American jungle aimlessly the only thing he could do to deal with what he had become was kill indiscriminately. At first Pope was suffice to the realization that it was a punishment God had placed upon him for the horrors he had committed against the English Merchant Ships and Navy under Royal License for Privateering.
*Flashback*
“El Diablo debe amarle, porque él me le entregó...” 1 a husky and gruff voice said waking him from his sleep. Lifting his head Pope, squinted his eyes to block out the blinding rays of the morning sun that hid a large silhouette looming over him. In the distance Pope could hear the crashing waves, his memory of the night before was foggy to say the least. The coppery taste of old blood formed a thick film over his teeth and made him almost gag. Not to far from him was the dead body of a villager disemboweled and its throat ripped out. As Pope stood slowly the crusty dried blood flaked off his naked form, and through the surf and salty mist into the air. Pope could see he was standing before seven or eight men with a jovial look upon their face.
“¡Consiga lejos de mí! ¡Me maldicen! ¡Soy un monstruo! ¡Le mataré todo!” 2
He said in a sleepy panic still not fully aware. Of his surroundings, in fact it took a moment for him to register the sounds of their rolling laughter. “Usted intentará el perrito joven..." 3 The gruff shadowy figure spoke once more… It turned out that the Devil did hold Pius in some favor for that morning a band of Lycan Pirates happened upon his God-forsaken soul and showed him what it meant to be a Lycan first and a Pirate second. Over the next forty or so years Pope learned much about himself and how to cope with what he had become, the most important of which taught him that it wasn’t his werewolf that resided inside of him that was the monster, it was really himself he should be wary of.
*End Flashback*
Why can’t things ever be easy?? Why does Fate wait till when you have forgiven yourself of your past sins, buried the ghosts of your past and you no longer see the faces of the ones you killed every time you close your eyes, to just throw you back into what personal hell you foolishly thought you had escaped. Up until six months ago Pope could have died with a clean conscious, but now his past had caught up to him. What do you do when you can’t out run yourself? You give in and hope to make piece with what you had become, but if people are inherently good do they truly ever forgive themselves for these horrors? And if they are inherently evil, well then you’re fucked either way.
Its often said that it is always darkest before dawn, if that was the case Pope hoped that the darkness that consumed him had reached its apex. The first rays of morning were streaking up from beyond the horizon leaving a towering silhouette into foreground that at first looked like a shapeless mass of earth jutting and extending skyward in a dive proclamation of defiance for God’s natural law. Still they rose from the earth to the sky, this place, this city had become his only refuge. In New York Pope could blend in, he knew the city well or at least used to. Pope wondered what it would be like to return, what would be the same and what wouldn’t. Seventeen years in the life of a Lycan isn’t much, however they still lived in a world populated by Humans and they were ever changing. ...
Flashback Translations:
1-The Devil must love you for he delivered you to me….
2-Get away from me! I am cursed! I am a monster! I will kill you all!
3-You will try young pup…