Post by Jaeger Vitalyovich Zhilin on Jun 14, 2010 9:06:19 GMT -5
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HELLO MY NAME IS JAEGER VITALYOVICH ZHILIN AND I AM TWENTY-TWO YEARS OLD. I'M A SHIFTER AND RANK AS AVERAGE, CHEESE AND CRACKERS MEMBER OF LA PESTA NEGRA AND I WAS BORN ON JANUARY 19th, 1988 IN RUSSIA. MY NATIONALITY IS RUSSIAN/GERMAN. PEOPLE SAY I LOOK LIKE NICK AYLER. THEY ALSO SAY THAT I AM CLEVER, DECEIVING, AN EVIL MASTERMIND, THE DEVIL IN DISGUISE, SMARTEST BASTARD THEY'VE EVER HAD THE MISFORTUNE OF MEETING, A HEAVY DRINKER, KLEPTOMANIAC, A THIEF. TO BE HONEST, I'M BEING PLAYED BY karma!.CODEWORD: ivory
ROLE PLAY SAMPLE:A bastard, the result of a whore of a German mother and an asshole of a Russian father. The most recent memory he has of his father is being shoved in the snow and being kicked in the head by thick, WWII-style combat boots, all the while his drunken dad saying slurred russian curses that noone could decipher afterwords. He then looked to the black smoke trails of hope, hopping on a coal train and riding away while Jaeger was left bleeding in the dirt.
Jaeger is the result of one impromptu vists from a married German woman to Russia, just a vacation is all. But then, she met Vitaly Alexyovich Zhilin, and she became obsessed. With everything about him, from the way he looked, the constant stench of alchohol on his breath, and as she had constantly learned, his "assets". So again and agin, she told her husband she needed to go back to Russia, until eventualy she stopped telling him. There was no divorce, as divorces are a formal thing, and she was no longer formal, just a common street whore to him. One day, however, the rubber that seemed to hold their "love" together broke, and she was pregnant. Not one to be held down by a child, Vitaly quickly ran for the hills, away from this stupid whore, how dare she refuse she get an abortion? He'd do it himself, if she'd like! So, the german whore gave birth, and with her heart still belonging to Vitaly, she gave him both his last name and patronymic name. Still, her German heritage caused her to name him Jaeger, and get a few odd looks along the way.
Vitaly only visited four more times, the first two to beat the shit out of his mother, the third to beat the shit out of him, and the last to beat the shit out of both of them and say his final farewells. Good fucking riddance, he'd say over his mothers pathetic, desperated sobs. Why did she love him so much? He wasn't charming, he beat her, and beat her son. So, he grew to hate her to, finally seeing her for the whore that everyone around town had claimed her to be, and knowing they were right. He hated both of of them, and he was going to be their only connection to intelligence, smarter than him both. He certaintly didn't use his knowledge for good, ramsacking houses and stealing their valuables without ever being caught, but hey, he was getting somewhere with his life.
Of course, there was another gift in store for Jaeger. One day, he walked into the small little German cottage they had moved to, to find a thick-framed dark-skinned man, sitting in the little rocking chair, nothing on but his shoes. He had seen his mother's "guests" before, but never had they been so rude to not get decent before he walked through the door. The man didn't seem to move, and with closer examination, he had terrible jaundice and his brown fingers were stained with the red-brown of blood. He also wasn't from here, able to tell from his near-black compexion, probally from Kenya or some other place in Arica. The man's thickened, yellow eyes stared forward at his, seemingly in a state of catatonia. As Jaeger gazed in the mirror of his dirty eyes, he saw the reflection of the mangled body of his mother, torn apart like only an animal can. Just as he raised his fist, the man lunged forward, canines brandished, and sunk his teeth into the boy's palen flesh, as he felt his blood being pumped with infectious venom. The man is no longer human anymore, and hops out the window in a loud crash.
The next full moon, Jaeger almost dies, turning into a painted wolf, or, as most people knwo, an African Wild Dog. Even through the orange, black, and white mottled fur of a wild dog, his genius personality shines through, as crafty and cunning as a fox. And for once, from amongst his pack, he is valued for something, other than being a bastard who stole a man's name. He smiles at this.
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