Marston, Drake Alexander [werewolf]

[Drake Marston]

The Application
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Drake Alexander Marston

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nicknames: Xan.
age: 25
gender: Male
sexuality: Straight
occupation: Bar Tender
Species: Werewolf
Group: Louve
Residence: A small house in Doodletown

played by: Jensen Ackles
appearance: Drake Marston is quite a tall gentlemen, standing about six foot, two inches tall. That's not overly tall for him, but he does find he has some trouble getting a lady that is tall enough for him. He has bright blue eyes, almost grey on first glance, and dusty brown hair that makes it look as though he has never combed it and looks as though he just got out of bed. His hair is cut short, and often is spread wildly atop his head. He has dyed it a few times, so there is a hint of black remaining in his unruly locks if you look close enough, though no one except a barber or a girl is allowed to get that close to him. Despite the unruly mess atop his head, it is always parted, though that remains to be seen.

He is quite a handsome man, despite the clothing he can be seen wearing. For the most part when he is not working he is dressed as casually as they come, sometimes often having holes in his jeans and tears in his shirts from his changes. He has taken up carrying a back pack with him that contains extra clothes and he always keeps it close at hand when he is changing, or right after he has changed for the evening. Sometimes he carries his clothes with him after he has changed, most often carrying them in his mouth when he is the changed wolf. Consequently this has a tendency to get blood on his clothing, more often than not. When he's not wearing the usual bloodied clothing, he is dressed for work which consists of a really nice outfit, meaning a semi-formal suit and tie. His shoes are always polished and black as can be. He normally combs and gels his hair when he is out working as well, and is always in prestine condition.

When not working his clothes are tattered and he looks as though he hasn't slept in days. He wears jeans that cover his hiking boots, and often he is seen wearing the standard muscle shirts and blue denim jacket that he is never seen without (except when he is working ofcourse). He hardly ever wears shorts and would not be caught dead swimming, unless he is already changed into a wolf.

Drake has a few piercings on his body, though none of them are actually shown, except his ears. He has one nipple pierced that he did as a dare two years ago, as well as one piercing on his right ear that has a skull and cross bones ear ring. Drake also has a new tattoo on his upper part of his back that is a graveyard scene with a wolf to the side and a beautiful young woman sitting on a gravestone wearing very little.

likes: bartending, women, reading, writing on his laptop, other werewolves, astronomy, sex, music, money, Cigarettes, alcohol.
dislikes: Humans (though he has a tendency to use them for sex, or whatever he sees fit), running, the sun (prefers night), guilt, hunters (though he has hunters in his family), certain memories.
goals: to find out what exactly happened to his first wife, and whether or not the rumors are true that she was pregnant.
fears: Hunters, Hippies, and that the world will never be completely at peace with all the war happening.
personality: What can one say about Drake Alexander Marston? Well there are a few words in which he would use to describe himself: funny, intelligent, happy, a prankster, and others of various nature that may seem suitable. As far as being funny, Drake enjoys a good laugh much like any other man his age, often taking time out of his day to make a joke or two about the professor's teaching abilities or make a joke as to how to make a slytherin turn red in the face. He's always been able to make his family laugh, whether it be with his own humor taking a turn for what may seem the worst, or the simple going ons of the day making him crack out a joke. But sometimes he can have quite the dry humor, often finding that it gets in the way of his day.

Eccentric: Yes some people have even gone far enough to call him eccentric. Just his mannerisms are enough for some to question his sanity. Most days when he is boisterous and ready for a good prank, he can start out as quiet and reserved, only letting his humor get the better of him as he finds it in everyday living. He often takes the smallest humor out of a day and blows it out of proportion, making it funnier than it would have originally been. He's never been a quiet person, but uses his ability to be quiet to add to the effects of a what a good joke would bring. Some people have seen that his eccentricity makes him who he is because without it he would be bland and boring, which is something he has been trying to avoid all these years in New York City.

Intelligent: Since the day he picked up a book at his schools his wit and humor have grown, his intelligence adding to the lines of humor. Books bring out the best in him, often quoting his favorite book when the timing seems to be right. When he's not joking around, his knack for being smart comes out in other forms, like in his scholastic abilities as well. Drake has always been a pretty bright boy when it came to the everyday world, but with his academic career coming to an end, he hits the books harder, getting the best grades he can and grades are important to him. Even though he loves being the prankster that he is, he still finds time to be the best student he can be, often studying beyond the time needed. School, afterall, isn't just a playground. When he finished his career in school, he retained all his intelligience and even gained some. For the most part he keeps it to himself, knowing that a smart werewolf can be a bad thing.

Tough Interior, Sticky Exterior Drake, when not in a prankster mood, is on the defensive when it comes to people he doesn't know. He keeps a tough interior, never letting someone break his barriers unless he lets them fall. He doesn't let anything get to him on the inside, letting things stick to him for a moment and then disregarding it all together. He rarely let's these sticky things get under his skin, mainly because he's developed a kind of shell that can't be penetrated. Things that stick to him stay there for some time and then are brushed away as if they never existed. His tough interior also lets him get away with the fact that he isn't obsessive about being a werewolf. Despite the war, he thinks that all species whether werewolf or not should be treated equally, but he understands that war cannot be conquered on that basis alone.

Hold Heart, Don't Go. With the loss of his first wife right out of highschool, Drake has been on the depressed side these passed few years, finding it hard to cope without her. And to know that she might have been pregnant with his child is something that has been aching at him since he learned of her disappearance. For the most part he avoids trying to get into a relationship, though he knows he has needs that must be met, and often indulges himself in a good lay with another woman. He sees the act as purely physical, no emotional or spiritual bonds to the person. But he knows that one day he will have to give up his first love, if she is even alive.

relatives:
history: Drake was born one winter night under a nearly full moon, perfect for a werewolf to be born. When the birth had taken place without much problem, the doctor had taken to tending to the woman who was having problems after her son was born. He tried his best to save the young woman, but with her age he could not save her so she was buried the following day as her infant son cried in his father's arms. Drake's father John Marston had not a clue what to do with a young werewolf child, so he left him with his sister for a time while John was away attending to the affairs of his wife, and the affairs of prostitutes. When he came back the young boy was already five years old and just learning that he was special. While staying with his aunt, he had actually shifted from young boy to wolf, which actually scared the living daylights out of the uncle who had thought the boy was completely normal. He had explained that he was one of 'them', and stormed out of the house, only to return drunk out of his mind.

It was a few years later that his father had accepted the face that the boy was indeed special, and soon after left the Hunter order as an undercover agent for the werewolves. He still had his hunting permit the day his son was born, but has since renounced ever being a hunter, knowing that he would have been hunting his own son, and that was something in which he could not do. By the time the young boy was in his teens, he had taken his knowledge learned from his aunt homeschooling him and applied it to the everyday living at the local highschool. It was in his freshman year at Highschool that he had met a young girl by the name of Sarah Jones, a pretty red haired lovely lady in which was smitten by the young boy's talent at wooing her. The two began dating shortly after, and spent many of their time in the back of the school where they played around and talked of the future.

After graduation, the two of them moved in together. It was a somber day, her having to leave her family, but for him he couldn't have been happier. For nearly five years the two of them spent their time planning on a marriage, and were married in a shotgun wedding with only a handful of witnesses. One night after a few weeks of being wed, the young bride left her husband, but Drake knows what happened. She was taken, but he knows not why. He has suspicion that the Louve was involved, but has since learned differently. She had been taken, and he just knew in his heart that she was pregnant when she was taken... But he knows not of what happened to her. He has since vowed to find out exactly what happened to her and why.

your name: I'll go by Drake
your age: 22
experience: 9-10 years
Example:

(Taken off the site Psyhcology of, a site where I play this character)
Maybe it was meant to be one of those days, but so far things were different. The sun was high in the sky over the castle, the sun's light reflecting off the surface of the black lake, though it still looked as black as ever. Outdoors was where the world was bustling. On the pitch, Quidditch practice was taking place for Slytherin as it normally did after Gryffindor finished theirs for the day. The Gryffindor quidditch team was filing off the pitch, making tracks towards the castle. For some reason the Gryffindors were not making rude remarks at the Slytherins, maybe because it was the fact that Roxanne was pushing them harder than ever for the upcoming game against Slytherin because it was rumored that the house had new team members this year and it was said to be a promising year for them. After the Gryffindors parted ways from the pitch, Slytherins began their practicing, doing their best to guard the rings from the quaffle going into them. But there was one Gryffindor that stayed behind to watch the action from inside the changing room area, leaning on the windowsill as he watched the quaffle being tossed back and forth between the six players while the seeker remained above the rest, keeping his eye out for the shimmering snitch. He was still dressed in his teams robes watching as his other clothes lay in a pile by the lockers, waiting for him to change once again. He grimmaced, watching one of the Slytherins take a bludger to the face, their motionless body hurling towards the ground. The flight master was below, ready for such incident. He whipped out his wand and eased the student to the ground, giving a thumbs up to the rest of the students as they darted this way and that, avoiding the bludgers as best as they could. After sometime, the boy wiped his brow of the sweat from the days practices and he made his way to get changed and cleaned up.

The sweat seemed to be at least a inch on his body as he began peeling layers of cloth off, piling them beside his clean clothes. He then walked over to the shower and turned on the hot knob, soon adding a bit of cold so it was smoldering. He then stepped into the shower, the walls of the shower being pounded by the shower of water. Particles of dirt began streaming down his body, the water trails leading from the top of his shoulders, down his spine, and cascading down his legs, small droplets clinging to his body. He reached for the shampoo and conditioner, mixing both of it together and lathering it on his hair, going back and forth with his hands to create a rich lather that peeled off onto his shoulders to be washed away by the falling water. After his hair was cleaned and washed, he reached for a bar of soap, lathering it all over his body before washing it away as well. For the moment he was letting the water fall over his face, the curtain being pounded upon as he lost himself in the water, soon finding that minutes had turned into at least an hour. He cursed himself silently, and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a large towel around his waist as he made his way over to the mirror to shave what stubble was on his face. He shook the razor under the water and applied some shaving cream to his face, letting the razor glide over it without much problem. He then let the razor rest in the sink as he put another towel to his face, wiping away any remaining hair and shaving cream that still clung to his face. Placing the hand towel aside, Caedon then made sure his hair was properly gelled before he would put on his clothing. He walked over to where his clothes were laying and began getting dressed, making sure that his boxers were indeed boxers and not those awful boxer briefs that gave him discomfort. He pulled on his black jeans that were somewhat frayed at feet and tattered in various other areas. Socks came next followed by a brown pair of hiking boots. He made sure that his shirt was one of the last items to adorn his body, the dragon design wrapping from the mid of his chest, around his side, and ending at the small of his back. It was an elaborate design that looked as though it had taken alot of work and effort. Finally the last thing to be on his body was a dark blue denim jacket that nearly matched the shade of his shirt. After he was dressed, combed and shaven, Caedon gave the room one last look before exiting the changing room, leaving his quidditch robes in his locker.

Caedon walked out onto the grass, his head held high in confidence. Slytherin didn't have a chance. With the way his team had been practicing nearly four nights out of every week, there was just no chance that Slytherin would win the next game, let alone the cup. He grinned broadly as he picked up his pace to the castle, his bag bouncing with every step. He passed by the suits of armor that lined the hallway, his destination within his sights. The grand staircase was every sense of the word "grand". It was a series of staircases that periodically moved for what seemed no reason at all. Once it was certain that the staircase wasn't going to move at all, Caedon jumped each step, taking two at a time. Finally he had reached the sixth floor, more particularly, the general commonroom. Expecting to find it vacant of any student, he pressed against the door and discovered that he was not alone, and there sitting lazily on the couch was his Ravenclaw best friend, Deirdre Ashe, a girl who in her own right was a bit on the loopy side, but it was all in good fun. Caedon loved teasing Dei, and often got away with just about anything. At first glance, he smiled brightly at her, letting his bag fall next to the couch in front of her. He let the smile fade into a smirk as he made for a notion to tickle her, but seeing as how he had made a record for most days going without being slapped, he decided against tickling the seventh year Ravenclaw. He then decided it would be better for the both of them if he sit next to her, choosing a large recliner. Kicking back the recliner so the leg rest hovered in mid air, he placed his legs over the sides and lazily lay there, resting his head in the crook of his arm, his gaze cast over in her direction. "So Dei, are you as homework-swamped as I am?" he said with a grin.

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