Post by Deleted on Dec 31, 2013 13:43:26 GMT -4
Markus Alexander Reinbold 137 WereCat Jensen Ackles Mark | TIMEZONE: Central HOW DID YOU FIND US?: Google! CONTACT INFORMATION: PM NICKNAME(S): Jax DATE OF BIRTH: 09/15/1876 DATE OF CHANGE: Born a WereCat BIRTHPLACE: Kiet, Russia HOMETOWN: Moscow, Russia CURRENT RESIDENCE: New York City DIET: Human food and animals. MAIN ANIMAL: N/A SPECIES APPEARANCE: A large African Lion. The fur is a tan, sandy color while the mane is a dark and rich brown. His eyes are a sharp and bright green and his form is large and powerful like all lions. SCARS/MARKS: Scars litter Markus's body from his numerous brushes with death while serving Naomi. He wears them all like badges of pride, a sign he was always the better of the two in a fight. Both arms, his chest, back, and parts of his legs are coated in tattoos. They range from symbols of hell, a mural of the four horsemen, to trees, a full moon, a portrait of a lion, glyphs Naomi ordered him to have put upon his flesh and sayings he enjoyed. The man is a walking canvas of ink, though he shows very few people. The only place that doesn't seem to sport a tattoo on his torso is his right shoulder blade, it is there that a brand can be seen, the brand carrying the personal glyph that Naomi used as her symbol and calling card. No matter what he tries he cannot remove it. PERSONAL STYLE: Markus has a simple style to say the least. Old worn leather boots, a leather jacket, plain jeans and t-shirts that carry nothing upon them. He has never been flashy, instead opting ti blend in whenever possible. He carries a simple wooden charm carved of oak around his neck hanging from a leather strap, one that was gifted to him long ago. OCCUPATION: On paper Markus's official jon is that of a mercenary, working for different Defense Firms, Mob Bosses and generally the highest bidder. However, it is simply a cover to earn a check while he worked as Naomi's personal Hunter and Enforcer. Today he still takes Defense Contracts and Hunts, but his days as an Enforcer for the Magi are over. AFFILIATION: N/A ABILITY: N/A LIKES: Markus enjoys simple things. He loves cigarettes, he likes cheap drinks, and cheaper women. He is an impulsive person, so he goes after things he wants without a second thought, it's gotten him into trouble more than once but he doesn't care. He also has a strong liking of Human, whether it's of his choosing or it's been beaten into him is up in the air. DISLIKES: Markus absolutely hates Vampires. There is no getting around it. Whenever he sees them he wants to kill them, he wants their heads on a stake and their bodies burning. It's a passion that can't be broken from him, one that will follow him to his grave and most likely send him to his grave. STRENGTHS:Markus is a dangerous fighter. He's spent most of his life training himself in it. He prides himself on saying he's never met someone he couldn't kill. It's a source of arrogance, but he doesn't care enough to fix it. He's also a damn good Hunter, having been taught lore from a Magi, trained in the art of tracking, trapping, hunting and killing most of the Supernatural species that exist. He was her personal muscle and he had to fit the part perfectly. WEAKNESSES: Markus will place other people before him if they manage to worm his way into his heart. It's a borderline Hero complex that he is so willing to die for them, almost a suicidal desire. He wishes to go out in a blaze of glory and for that reason he will fight other people's battles, the more bleak they seem the quicker he will jump into the fray. It's gotten him beaten pretty badly in the past, and almost killed more than a handful of time; but he refuses to change. HABITS/QUIRKS: Markus is a habitual nail biter, his fingers looking a bit like stubs from his constant assault on the nail beds. He also can be seen smoking a cigarette at just about anytime. When he's bored he has a habit of playing with his knife, spinning it around in his hand or simply sharpening it. He has to always keep his hands busy, no matter the situation. FEARS: Markus has a deep fear that one day, once he has finally found someone he's willing to spend his life with he won't be able to protect that person. He's spent so much of his life fighting, yet he thinks once he finds a mate he will lose his edge and in that moment he will have everything taken from him. It's such a deep paranoia that he has left women many a time, women who he could have seen himself being with for all eternity. Love isn't worth becoming weak for in his mind. SECRETS: Markus has a daughter named Arabella in Moscow. He's seen her a handful of times, always from a distance. He always wished to go to her, to let the young girl know who he was, but he never did. He feared that she would become a pawn in Naomi's games if he did, so instead he sacrificed any hope of a relationship with her to keep her safe. Though after a long night of drinking he sometimes wonders if he merely tells himself that lie to explain running from the responsibility of being a father. GOALS: Markus hopes with all his heart to one day find a means to kill Naomi, to see her body crucified and her blood forming in crimson pools beneath her. PERSONALITY: Sarcastic, arrogant, careless, and impulsive. All these words sum Markus up perfectly. He doesn't really seem to care about much, and the things he does care about even get little attention. He simply lives his life without attatchments, blowing from one breeze to another, a leaf constantly on the move in a storm. The man has no cares, has no hopes and no dreams; he simply exists for the moment. His sarcasm is an ever-present friend, even while facing certain death. Markus is the kind of man that when he has a .45 pistol pressed against his head he would simply look up at you, grin and say, "Well, make the thing go bang." However, beneath his mask lies the truth. Markus is intelligent, dangerously so, he simply finds that people act different around him when all they see is a sarcastic brute that cares for nothing upon the Earth. His intelligence becomes apparent with his wit, a razor tongue, and his ability to quickly formulate a plan when fighting. The man isn't book smart, but in most situations he has a pretty good idea of what's going on and how to come out on top. However, this doesn't mean he hasn't been tricked more than a few times, and that happens to him when he does to others what he expects them to do to him. He underestimates almost everyone he meets, his arrogance unable to accept anyone could possibly outsmart him, could possibly be one step ahead. It's a horrible trait, but one he will never give up. Markus also has quite a temper. He is a man quick to anger, and once he's angry he becomes furious and nothing can calm him. It use to cause him to shift frequently, but now that he's older it simply causes him to rage and try to kill the source of his feelings. It's funny because his temper seems so opposite the laid back nature he puts off, and that is the beginning of the mystery. People who have worked with the WereCat begin to see the true him and weigh that against the mask he puts up. It makes them wonder who the true Markus is and how much is the care-free mercenary he pretends to be. No one has ever gotten close enough to solve the mystery. FATHER: Ivan Drovsky, Deceased MOTHER: Tretya Drovsky, Deceased SIBLINGS: Mira Trovsky, Older, Deceased OTHER FAMILY: N/A OTHER IMPORTANT PEOPLE: Arabella Harkon, Daughter, 28, Alive HISTORY: Markus Reinbold, the Naomi's Enforcer, the War Lion; a man who has lived in shadows and blood for over one-hundred years. However, every monster has it's beginning's so that's the best place to start for Markus. Born just before the turn of the century, Russian 1876, a time when the country was becoming lost in turmoil. A time of political unrest and danger. Markus was born in the small village of Kiet. His parents, both of whom where WereCats themselves, had been so happy to finally have a son. His father, especially, worrying his daughter would be his only legacy. Markus came into the world welcomed with love and open arms; a rare gift in those days. Russia was becoming a harder place than usual, with class differences becoming a major boiling point. Everyone was on edge, but out in the small village of Kiet things weren't as stressed or tense as they where in the major cities. Markus was able to grow up with a moderately happy childhood. His family taught him what he was, they taught him to control his rage, to control the beast when he turned. Ivan watched his son grow, and knew that Markus had the makings of an Alpha in him, a powerful and dominating young boy who would claw his way to the top in any situation. The notion was a source of great pride for the man, one that inspired him to train his son further in combat and strategy. However, no exciting person ever comes from a story with a happy ending, and Markus's perfect little life came crashing down on him at the age of eleven. A group of Vampires came to his small village, they came with evil in their hearts. The night of October 27th was one that he will never forget. Markus woke up to screams, to the acidic smell of woodsmoke stinging his nostrils, to the sounds of death and violence. Rushing outside he saw the Vampires killing freely, he watched his Father charge with a knife in his hand and watched him be batted aside and killed. Markus had been filled with such rage in that moment that he'd picked up a stick and ran to the monster that was destroying his life. Bashing the wood against the man's shin, the Vampire had laughed in annoyance before savagely striking the boy across the face. In that moment pure rage had overtaken the small child, and once again he rose to his feet, but this time he scooped up his Father's knife and drove it through the thigh of the Vampire. The Vampire had howled in anger and ripping the knife from his flesh, prepared to use it upon the child. Markus, however, hadn't shown fear; defiance shown brightly in his eyes. The Vampire looked upon the child, looked at his anger and bravery, and had simply smiled and said one thing. "She will want this one." With that a savage blow had knocked him unconscious and that had been the last he'd seen of Kiet, of his family, and of his old life altogether. Markus considers that they day he grew up, the day he was forced to become a man. He had only been eleven. A Magi named Naomi worked out of Moscow, a dark woman, she used Supernaturals as her own personal soldiers. She was obssessed with her own power, with expanding her sphere of influence within Moscow. She would send her soldiers out to destroy smaller villages around the main cities, always sending Supernaturals to do her dirty work, so that she could appeal and say that the monsters where slaughtering Humans. She was a Queen of Shadows, and she became something close to Markus's mother. After he had been delivered to her, he had been a ferocious little monster, refusing to let anyone near him, attacking with everything he had. Naomi, however, had been able to soothe him. Like all monsters, she appeared beautiful and gentle, calming the child and telling him things would be okay. She filled his mind with poisonous lies, telling him his family had been killing the innocent in the night, feeding their twisted hunger on the flesh of Humans. At first Markus had refused to believe it, but as days turned to weeks and with little sleep or food, the lies began to turn to truths within his own head. He accepted her words as fact, and finally he was released from his cage, he was rewarded for believing her, and that began a dangerous cycle. Markus began training with an old WereWolf by the name of Idric. The man was a veteran of many wars Russia had fought in, and from his never-ending well of knowledge Markus grew. He was taught combat with nearly every instrument, ranging from axes and swords, to the use of his own hands and poisons. He was schooled in the lore of the Supernatural, learning the strengths and weaknesses of each species. Markus was trained to become a Hunter against his own kind, a monster used to hunt monsters. At first it had all seemed so twisted to him, so horrible; but with everyday a little bit more of his mind was convinced this was the correct course of action. He was programmed to believe that Humans deserved the world, that it truly belonged to them and the most respectable thing one of the Supernatural could do was aid them in gaining control over their rightful domain. So the years wore on as such, split between being trained for combat, being educated in lore, and listening to Idric or Naomi tell him propoganda and lies; he was being molded into exactly what they wanted. Markus was not the only one to be going through this, several other young boys and girls had been brought to Naomi, all of them being taught to hunt their own kind. Markus, however, stood out. He was the most violent, the best at combat, his mind was sharp and able to process things quickly, and once his will was broken he absorbed all the lies he was fed without a second thought. After several years had worn on, Markus was clearly the front-runner of all the young recruits. One day things came to a head when all seven on them where assmebled in the courtyard of Naomi's estate. It was a cold Russian morning, virgin white snow blanketing the ground. They where all told that training was over, but only one of them would wear Naomi's glyph and serve as one of her Hunters. Some of them had been confused, but Markus had known right away that it was kill or be killed. Without waiting to be told to start he had pulled a knife from his hip, and without hesitation he had turned it on the girl next to him, slashing through muscle, flesh and bone to puncture her heart. The melee had only lasted a few moments before Markus stood the sole survivor. Blood dripped from wounds to his body, but he stood their proud and arrogant, a twisted grin upon his lips. Idric hadn't been surprised in the least to see the young WereCat the victor. The Wolf took him inside and ordered him to remove his clothing. Markus was scrubbed clean, his wounds stitched shut, and brought before Naomi. She had ordered him to his knees as she removed a brand from the fire place. The brand was that of Naomi's personal glyph, a runic symbol that other Magi recognized as her calling card. The hot iron had been pressed against his right shoulder blade and Markus had received the pain without a sound. The smell of cooking flesh adn the soft sizzle of his own skin filled the room, but he remained silent. As the brand was removed he stood to his feet, bowing slightly to them both. Idric and Naomi had glanced to one another before Idric smiled and clasped Markus, lifting him in a bear hug. To this day that is the closest thing Markus has to a 'family memory'. Upon the completion of his training Markus began following Idric and the others out on hunts. However, he quickly began to see that it wasn't always Supernaturals they went after. More than once Markus found himself questioning everything as they slaughtered small villages of Humans. They would do this and then Markus would be forced to listen as Naomi told Human leaders in Moscow that rogue Supernaturals where to blame. In turn these leaders would pay Naomi substantial amounts to use her personally trained Hunters to solve their problems. It was then that Idric, Markus and the others would go out and attack innocent Clans and Covens. The entire thing was a charade, it was Naomi creating more and more evil in a vicious circle. However, Markus never questioned things. Silently he protested things, but always he followed orders, after all he was a soldier. It wasn't his job to think, only to act. Months gave way to years, and years molded into decades. They continued their games until finally one fateful day everything changed. It was known as the Red Revolution. The people of Russia had grown tired of the class system, and in one night they began attacking the nobility and anyone else prevelant in society. The night it had happened Idric and a few others had been out on a hunt, leaving Markus and a handful to guard Naomi and the estate. It had all happened to quickly, suddenly a battle was being fought in the courtyard against peasents nonetheless. Naomi had ordered them all killed, but Markus had seen his chance. As the heavy oak doors where bashed against from the outside, Markus had looked to Naomi and only smiled. As the doors came crashing down, the WereCat had stepped into the shadows, allowing the Magi to face her own fate. He had made his way quickly away from Moscow that night, wishing to be done with it all. Markus had traveled west, finding his way first to Bulgaria, then moving into Eastern Europe. Along the way he had sold his services as a mercenary, fighting other peoples battles for a little coin. Anything to keep his pocket full and his mind occupied. This became his fate for nearly twenty years, simply wandering and fighting. However, one day in 1937 he was approached by a man that offered him steady pay and constant work, work that didn't need to be done from the shadows. He was offered employement by a government organization and Markus decided to accept. The mans name had been Heinrich Grutberg, and in 1937 Markus had joined Hitler's Elite troops, the SS. During his time serving with the Germans Markus had seen battle in Poland, France, and finally Russia once again. He had turned a blind eye to the horrors the SS and Hitler where committing, telling himself the problems where for Humans and Humans would deal with it. It was in Russia that he came face to face with old enemies, enemies he thought long dead. During the Battle of Stalingrad Markus had led a small squad of SS but suddenly they where attacked, attacked by creatures that couldn't have been Human. Markus managed to kill three before his squad was wiped out and he was knocked out and dragged away. They brought the captured Nazi to an abandonded house, and it was there he awoke, chained to a chair and facing a fire place. Beside the fire place sat Naomi, a wicked smile on her lips. Naomi had seethed with rage since his betrayal, she told him that she'd planned to have Markus replace Idric one day, but now all she wanted was his head. In her rage Markus had been forced to laugh, he had thought her long dead and seeing her still alive angered him as much as his treachery angered her. That was the first time he transformed into a state he had total control over. His new power easily broke the chains and he became a monster standing just a hair over seven feet tall. On two legs like some vague humanoid creature, Markus appeared to be a lion monster from the pits of Hell. Idric had attacked quickly, but was over-powered by the sudden change Markus underwent and had his throat ripped out by razor sharp talons. Naomi had fled that night as what remained of her followers fell to Markus. It was a bloodbath, one that still brings a smile to Markus's lips even now. After the Nazi defeat at Stalingrad it had been full retreat, fighting day in and day out for survival. As the crimes of the Nazi's continued to grow ever worse Markus opted to switch sides. One night he took the uniform of a captured Soviet and simply swapped himself out into the man's place. The soviet army boasted over four million soldiers, it wasn't difficult for him to slide in unnoticed. After switching sides, the war steamed on and quickly Germany was defeated. The world celebrated in delight over the end of the 'Evil Empire', but Markus didn't care. He knew it was only a matter of time before another war sprang to life. However, he had grown tired and wanted a fresh start so with the end of hostilities he had moved himself to Ireland. It had been peaceful there, and Markus had called it home for nearly thirty years. During his time their Markus worked with the local soldiers training them, it helped keep himself sharp and built good relations. No one knew he was a supernatural, but only thought him an old Soviet war veteran. Life had been simple, and whenever a rogue supernatural had come a calling to bring death, Markus had answered the call quickly and viciously. However, as is the fate with most immortals, Markus grew bored. Leaving Ireland, he relocated to Rome. It was here he spent a decade before meeting a woman named Amelia. Amelia had been a beautiful women, gentle and kind. She had been the opposite of the life Markus had lived, and for that reason he fell in love with her. Remembering the night she had whispered she loved him still brings a shiver to his spine, however, he found himself feeling something for the first time with her he hated. It had been fear. Fear of losing her, fear of losing their love. That fear had made him weak, and he despised weakness. It was for that reason alone he left Amelia, after nearly five years of bliss. Turning his back on her he had run away to America. Some years later he had learned of a child, Arabella. She is his biggest regret, sometimes late at night he wonders how different life would have been had he stayed with Amelia and Arabella. In America Markus had begun to offer his skills to anyone that paid enough. Crime Lords, Magi, Drug Cartels; he was a soldier for hire and didn't care what the cause was. This went on for several years. He worked out of New York City, though he would go anywhere to work. This lifestyle carried on right up to current times. the only thing that changed was Markus gained a job with a Defense Firm known as Helios Industries. They offered mercenaries for whatever work was needed. Markus became a highly prized soldier, being paid quite a bit for his skills. With them he saw combat all over the globe, fighting little wars for the rich. Wars that never made the paper, wars against the innocent who wouldn't leave their land even though a rich corporation wanted it to build a new factory on. Markus has burned villages, killed the innocent, and displaced many a family all in the name of the unholy dollar. That brings us to the present. Markus has turned his back on Helios, his guilt becoming too strong. Between his services with the SS and his recent mercenary work he has become forced to ask himself why he is always drawn to the darker side. Trying to atone for those actions Markus has once again returned to hunting, hoping to save his soul with the blood of those darker than himself. |
