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Your Name: Rockefeller
OOC Journal: N/A
Under 18? If yes, what is your age?: old as balls
Email + IM: thehoodedfiguresss@gmail.com / [plurk.com profile] thehoodedfigures
Characters Played at Ataraxion: Erik Lehnsherr

Name: Flint Deckard
Canon: OC

Original or Alternate Universe: Original
Canon Point: After jumping overboard into the sea in shackles to escape his most recent capture.

Setting: Flint is from an original post-apocalyptic universe wherein magic has reclaimed the earth, and a small percentage of the surviving population is host to a theater of specialized magical abilities. City centers and territories that previously housed dense populations are broadly considered unlivable for a variety of reasons (radiation, hostile spirits, dragons), and are only ventured into in search of lost knowledge and technologies whose potential value outweighs the risks.

Most of the population that remains has had generations to build up settlements in the country. These settlements are often specialized, and run the gamut from agricultural to industrial to academic. What any particular settlement focuses on or is capable of largely depends on the specialized knowledge of its inhabitants passed down through family lines, wealth, and access to resources.

The largest and most powerful settlements may lay claim to surrounding territories and take lordship over them by force or in exchange for the promise of protection, both from other settlements and from hostile magical forces.

“Mages,” as they’re called, are usually born to normal families and can be identified at a young age by the appearance of animal familiars, which can take any shape, but typically settle on a favorite few. The powers a given Mage possesses are specific to the individual. There are elemental Mages with power over fire, healing Mages, arcane Mages, and so on and so forth. Their abilities make them highly sought after -- the most skilled and useful Mages can easily achieve local celebrity status if they play their cards right.

Magical beasts and phenomena are commonplace and an accepted part of day-to-day life. The majority of Flint’s history takes place in and around what was once France and Great Britain.

History: Flint was a guard captain for one of the most powerful and influential families in northern France when he was cursed.

174 AE - Born in a grey coastal town in England into a family of merchant sailors with American roots, and never developed a knack for the trade. Although a straight edge with a mind for financial strategy (and adventure), he preferred land to sea, and spent much of his time helping to move goods south down the coast below deck vomiting into a bucket until it came time to unload.

196 AE - 22 years old when his father’s ship was overtaken by pirates. Most of the crew, including his father, was killed in the ensuing struggle. Flint wasn’t in much shape to put up a fight, and was taken prisoner with a few of the other survivors. The pirate ship was flanked by a larger French vessel after crossing the English Channel. Flint and the other captives were taken aboard and carried back to New Rouen in France, overseen by the extremely wealthy Allegre family, where they were freed by the Allegres.

197-231 AE - Flint joined the Allegre family’s guard at the age of 23, after learning enough French doing menial labor to get by. He found his niche in it, and was highly successful, largely owing to his level head and organizational skill. The Allegre family had already established an iron grip on New Rouen and the surrounding territory for miles (kilOMEters) before Flint came onto the scene, and the only real drama to contend with was squelching the odd revolt brought on by a widening class divide. At the age of 40, Flint was named captain of the guard.

241 AE - Sanctions brought down on the poor by the aging (and increasingly demented) Allegre head of house brought violence to their doorstep, and Flint led a contingent of guardsmen in an overnight clash that left two guards and twenty civilians dead, including several youths. When Flint attempted to tender their resignation in the aftermath, Allegre’s daughter, a mage and the heir to the Allegre estate, recommended that Flint be cursed into eternal servitude as a dog of war instead. The elder Allegre agreed that this was the most rational course of action. Flint served the Allegres for an additional 10 years with memory manipulations and other magical influences in place to keep him compliant. He was used primarily to shock and awe, and fed heartily on human flesh. Near the end of those 10 years, the Allegre estate collapsed and Flint escaped into the wild in a fugue state in the ensuing chaos.

Flint’s curse was touted as a mark of the Allegre’s power, and his condition was made well-known as a threat to the local population before the Allegre family’s fall. In the years immediately following, he was hunted down and eventually captured and sold off as a magical oddity, easily controlled with magic and memory erasure until whatever inevitable horrible accident that saw him turned loose again.

This has continued for one-hundred odd years. He’s been sold and traded and escaped and brainwashed in a continuous cycle, most often utilized as a guardian, strongarm threat or a sort of freak show spectacle people pay to see.

His canon point finds him at the moment of his most recent escape, off the side of a merchant ship peddling illicit goods and into a storm.

Personality: Habitually apathetic towards expectation and cagey under pressure, Flint Deckard is easily distracted, has a difficult time staying on task and doesn't seem to care about much of anything, the state of himself included. He is indifferent to many social norms and frustrated by ones that are actively obstructive to him getting something he wants, whether it be a drink or a nap or the freedom to wander off to be unproductive in any other way without consequence.

He wears whatever clothes, doesn't shave and doesn't like to talk much. It'd be easy to assume he's slow. There's an air of homelessness about him whether he is or not, but he keeps himself clean and tends to be cooperative when it's in his best interest. Not a total loss to society, then.

Manageable status quo aside, he is sometimes deliberately abrasive and occasionally reckless and/or violent. At other times he can be inexplicably difficult to find.

Flint’s nihilism is borne of a separation of himself from his history, and of the side-effects wrought upon him by the curse. He doesn’t know where he came from or how he came to be cursed, or by who. Without identity or purpose, he’s drifted between masters as a magical curiosity for one hundred odd years, with brief escapes into smaller townships doing odd jobs, most of them cut short by the correlation between his arrival and the rooting up of local graveyards.

He’s typically well-meaning, doesn’t deliberately advertise his abilities and is more likely to stand his ground on another’s behalf than he is his own. Even in full-blown episodes of werewolfery, he’s something of a coward, and favors feints and bluffs over direct engagement unless starving, cornered, or aggressively provoked.

Abilities, Weaknesses and Power Limitations:

Rough visual references:

"werewolf" by HaughtyFlaki

flint sketch by me

Lycanthropy has been a fact of life for Flint for as far as he can remember (not very far at all) and he has more in common with magical beasts than he does the average Mage. The lunar cycle exerts significant influence over his behavior (and temper) – a vulnerability that can in turn be utilized against him by those with knowledge of the occult. He is weak to magic and incantation by default, and especially susceptible to rituals and incantations wherein the moon plays a role. Silver, wolf hide, bone and other relevant magics can also be wielded against him. Silver in particular is, in accordance with myth, corrosively poisonous to his system. He knows the smell and will rarely attempt to stand his ground against it.

He suffers from powerful cravings for human flesh -- particularly dead human flesh, and will seek out and dig up corpses to feed. It doesn’t have to be fresh. He will crunch through bone, lap up residue and consume contaminated earth. These pangs intensify with time between feedings, and are magnified many fold by the full moon. A scavenger first, if dead meat isn’t available or accessible, he may be driven to take on live prey.

Although it typically takes months of deprivation for him to reach that point, he is more likely to take advantage of opportunities that present themselves during a full moon. His perpetual state of “semi-starvation” in this regard is directly responsible for his poor physical condition. He was made to gorge on the dead.

Like other supernatural entities in his universe, he may be summoned or directed or bound to a task. While shifted he gains muscle and bone mass under fur but retains his overall lanky build and would be considered rangy by werewolf standards, if such standards exist. He can move swiftly on two legs or four, is impulsively reactive (suffering from an even greater lack of self-control than usual) and is armed with thick claws, brute strength and crushing jaws. Significantly, he is cursed and was not bitten. Therefore his condition is not contagious and does not turn others, although bites inflicted are messy and prone to other types of secondary infection.

Additionally, while the full moon forces a shift and tears the worst out of him, he is capable of reactionary and willful shifts independently of the lunar cycle. The former is easier than the latter. Strong surges of emotion, particularly negative emotion, may provoke a shift that he can’t easily subdue.

When Shifted:
Approximately 7 ft standing upright, built wiry and lean about heavy bones
Broad shoulders, long arms, digitigrade haunch with thickened pads under hand and foot
Dark, brackish grey and brown fur, lighter about the underside and thickest in winter
Wolfish skull, robust fangs
Gorilla strength, physically resilient to mundane (non-magical/occult) trauma, rapid healing
Fast enough to bring down a horse in short bursts but quick to tire, suggesting a reliance on ambush predation
or a reliance on food sources slower than horses

When human:
Slightly enhanced senses (hearing, smell, night vision)
Average strength, speed, etc
Immortal (doesn’t age)
Physically resilient, mild healing factor

Unlike skinwalkers, he has nothing to bond with or isolate himself from. The werewolf is not a separate entity, symbiotic or otherwise. He is only himself.

Inventory: shackles, pants, shirt, hoodie jacket
Appearance: Tall at 6'3" and wiry in conformation, Flint is perpetually distracted and frequently looks as if he's just rolled out of bed. The dusty grey-brown bristle of his hair is clipped short, scruffing down into a perpetual layer of stubble that's grizzled at the fringes. His eyes are a stark, biting shade of slate overshadowed by expressive brows and flat lines etched across his forehead - the likes of which are balanced out by the frown lines carved in deep around his mouth.

Overall, his features are narrow and his eyes are slightly bugged. He’s thinning bald up top, tends to slouch, and the pads of his hands are thick with calluses.

Age: Approximately 150

AU Clarification: N/A

Log Sample:

[ The stink of wet earth clots in the sinuses, cloying cold, another night filtered through the rap of rain over canvas.

There are only so many tents, and the storm is relentless.

So it is that there’s something else here when the first dawn light ghosts in grey through the open flap -- something with bony shoulders and eyes that flash pale silver after the first sign of wakeful movement from the makeshift bed. Flint Deckard is sitting cross-legged on the hard-beaten floor, rawboned, bristling, rough shaven. He’s wearing a windbreaker the color of Ty-D-Bol and both of his hands are rustling past the wrist in a rucksack that doesn’t belong to him.

Most of the contents are already strewn to the side, sorted into categories according to usefulness.

When the sheets shift again, he draws up into himself, elbows and eyeshine, watching, breath whistling thin through his nose.

Waiting. ]

Comms Sample:

[ Flint is a shirtless shadow silhouetted against the sun when the transmission begins, jutting ears, sunken clavicles and the slope of a jaw easily picked out of a lineup, long and narrow.

This is not his comms device.

He pries at the case for a moment or two before he recognizes his own reflection tilting -- not in the glare, but through it. His scrutiny intensifies; he leans in, and then out of frame, looking after the treeline, towards camp. ]

Listen, [ he says, now that he’s satisfied he’s being recorded, ] this isn’t mine.

But that guy was dead when I found him.

[ He thumbs across the screen, scrolling through menu options. The feed toggles to black and white. Guilty or not, he could stand to sound more invested in the outcome. ]

I’d testify in person but I don’t have any pants.


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Flint Deckard

September 2015

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