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Post by Deleted on Mar 29, 2016 23:46:40 GMT
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[attr="class","ilbgdtraits1"]HELLHOUND
[attr="class","ilbgdtraits2"]MERCENARY | BARTENDER
[attr="class","ilbgdtraits3"]526
[attr="class","ilbgdtraits1"]SINGLE
[attr="class","ilbgdtraits2"]CHRIS EVANS
[attr="class","ilbgdtraits3"]AUTHORED BY BOBBI
Tobias "Toby" L. Donovan
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Hiding behind a deceptively cheerful facade, Toby comes across as a friendly, seemingly innocuous individual. One would never think that he was one of those mythical, frightening monsters of the dead. Harbingers of death, guardians of the supernatural. But underneath that sweet, charming smile lurks a dark, tortured soul who’s seen death in many different lives, the burden of his task as a protector of supernatural secrets weighing heavily on his shoulders. He knows much more than he lets on, and despite his amiable exterior, Toby is a ruthless creature who will stop at nothing to erase a smudge if it means protecting the world from the horrors of the supernatural. Humans fear things that they don’t know. Hard-headed and stubborn to the very end, Toby won’t budge from the path that he sets himself on. Some might say he’s emotionless, cold like marble, but he’s not heartless. The fear, the sadness. Everything. He just hides it almost too well, having practiced that fake, diplomatic smile in front of the mirror.
HISTORY:
A sharp, bawling cry pierced the air as the dark-haired woman gave the final push, her fingers clutching the blood-stained bedsheets. ‘Mo mhac. Tabhair dó dom.’ The soft whisper came like a ragged thread of air, as the woman weakly extended her arms out to hold the newborn in her arms. The old crone gave a solemn nod, swaddling the small infant, before gently sliding the mewling baby into the mother’s outstretched arms.
His eyes were beautiful, as if the Gods had taken a piece out of the sapphire skies to mold his eyes from, and they were burning with a hidden fire too.
‘Oh my blessed child,’ came the soft, happy whisper that brushed against the warm forehead.
Thwack! His head jerked back as the punch exploded into the young boy’s cheek, causing him to draw a sharp intake of breath, pain blooming across his face. Right about now, he didn’t feel so particularly lucky right now, Tobias mused to himself miserably as his brows knitted together in an annoyed scowl. A wry smirk dancing on his lips, with a thin thread of crimson tracing his cut lip, the boy instantly lifted up his thin, slender arms, petite hands curled into defiant fists. “Come on, I could do this all day,” he let loose the breathless, ragged taunt, smirking up into the scowling faces of the two bigger, brutish boys who towered over the smaller, petite young blonde boy. ‘Ya got a death wish, or sumthin, kid?’ before another fist came swinging down, boxing him on his left ear and sending the boy sprawling into the dirt. Tobias felt the bread tumble out of his fingers, and he knew that he really wasn’t feeling lucky today. But then again, when was he ever?
‘Just try stealing from us again, boyo, and you’ll say goodbye to that hand of yours!’ One of them snarled as he picked up Toby again, catching him by the scruff of his shirt. “This hand, you mean?” He sneered as his right fist came popping out of nowhere, catching the other boy by the nose, which cracked noisily under the impact. And Tobias found himself released immediately from the howling boy’s grip, grinning mirthlessly as he watched the boy clap his hands over his gushing nose. ‘You demon!’ The other boy screeched, lunging for Toby, but he was too quick and already out of his reach. “Maybe!” He only hollered back, laughing over his shoulder as he scrambled away from the boys. He’d deal with them on another day, but for now, his pa was waiting for him back at home.
‘Tobias! Not again!’
The scowling facade of the older, bearded man greeted the twelve-year old boy at the threshold of the small cottage as soon as Tobias came marching up the sloping hill. “What? They started it, Pa!” He retorted, huffing in frustration as he swiped his sleeve against his muddied, bruised cheek. The towering, stocky man shook his head in disappointment, crossing his arms as he watched his son stride inside the small house. ‘Sometimes I envy your mother, God rest her soul. What would she say if she saw you now?’
Rolling his eyes at that, Tobias scoffed as his shoulders rolled in a casual shrug. “Well, Pa, I never met her, so I can’t really tell you that.” Almost as soon as he had let loose that remark, a thundering sound of footsteps approached him from behind, followed by a loud slapping sound before Tobias tumbled forward, the back of his head smarting from the slap. “OW!”
‘Watch your mouth, lad,’ His father only warned, and one look into those thunderous blue eyes was all that it took to humble the young boy, who gave a small nod. “Sorry.”
A sigh escaped the older man’s lips as he stared sternly down into the blue gaze of his son.
‘Did you at least kick their arses?’
Tobias grinned. “Oh yeah. I did.”
He woke up screaming in a burning world that was flickering in shades of orange and red. The flames. The warmth spread all throughout his body. They were everywhere! On the ground, the ceiling, his cot. He should have been suffocating, with the flames swarming all over him. But most of all, it should have burned him. Instead, it only seemed to go right through him. As if the flames were attracted to him. His veins were singing with heat as Tobias stared down at his fingers in shock. The flames were coming from his own hands. Fear struck him as he realized that the fire that was soon swallowing up the cottage had been started by his own hands. “Pa!” He finally screamed, as he realized that he couldn’t stop the fire that was surging with a great intensity. No no no. This was just another nightmare, just like the one that he had just woken up from. He had seen a horrifying vision in his dreams. A man who had shifted into a horrifying monster. A wolf. A beast. What was it? Or more importantly, what was Tobias?
Feet pounding, he found himself shouting for a father who was long gone, his body charred to the point that the old druid was unrecognizable. “No!” The desperate scream escaped past Tobias’ lips as he stumbled before the charred lump, fingers shaking as he touched the burned corpse only to have it shatter to ashes underneath his touch.
Maybe he really was a demon, bringing death to those he loved.
He was only thirteen, when Tobias had first discovered that he was not entirely human. He had left his family’s cottage in flames, running away into the woods in fear. He didn’t know where his feet were taking him. He only knew that he needed to find someone. Something that reeked of death. Something that he had to hide. But what? Something was whispering to him from the shadows. You must protect our world. Protect the secrets. What secrets? His questions were answered when he came stumbling across several bodies lying in the ground. Werewolves. Left for dead by passing hunters. He could smell the death and supernatural power reeking off of their corpses. And somehow, Tobias knew. He just knew that he had to do something. It was like something else had possessed him. Like a demon. Without a second thought, the boy went to burying the corpses, covering up whatever secrets their bodies held. He couldn’t understand it, why he was knee deep in dirt and mud, and wondered if his mind was broken. Maybe he had gone crazy. After all, he had just accidentally started a fire and killed his father with it.
Why? Who am I? What am I? Those questions would continue to plague Tobias for the next several years, as he began a nomadic life, running away from his home and all that he had once held dear. Every time his emotions ran high, his fingers would spark with flame and so he had to work hard at controlling it. He also feared contact with the humans everywhere he went, hiding himself behind a cloak and keeping his mouth shut. He must be a mute, they often said. He wasn’t, but he was fine letting them think otherwise. Better that they know nothing than to see him for what he truly was. He was a monster, that he concluded about himself as he traveled through Ireland. It was tough, living life in the gritty streets and roads, nearly starving everywhere he went. Steal. Kill. He had to fight his way almost out of every situation he had found himself in. A survivalist. He learned how to pick-pocket better, toss a knife properly, and improvised his fighting methods. As he grew older, Tobias came to understand that he was stronger than most humans, gifted with the ability to generate and control flames.
But most of all, Tobias was cursed with the damning visions, all boding of death and horrifying monsters. The voices whispered to him, telling him to protect the secrets. That was when Tobias realized there was something severely wrong with him, and so he had started traveling with nomadic priests, trying to find some answers in religion. There was nothing in their scrolls, their texts, or prayers that could answer his own questions. So he left religion as well, deciding that, he wasn’t going to find a simple answer in a plain old grimoire. He was something else entirely. And so, he continued running in the shadows, trying to protect himself from the eyes of the world. The only times that he ever pulled himself from the shadows were to answer to the calls of his task. Death. His feet somehow managed to find their own path, leading only to more bodies and death in other places. Scotland. England. He had traveled to these places, drawn to places that hummed with great supernatural energy. And he did what he does best: hiding secrets. By the time he was 30 years old, Tobias had become well-adjusted to his powers, understanding that he couldn’t stop whatever he was doing. Getting visitations of death, going to places where death reeked, and covering up the bodies that were left behind. He came to understand that there was more to this world. Like werewolves, chimeras, and druids. Hunters too.
The more he encountered these supers, Tobias came closer to understanding what he was: A hellhound. A guardian of the supernatural. And so, as time passed, he came to envy humans, for they were blessed with the gift of ignorance. They didn’t have to deal with the visions, this heavy weight of the world on his shoulders, and do the dirty work of covering up the bodies. Humans fear what they don’t know. So it’s better for them to not see what’s really there. As Tobias roamed through England, several hunters had caught wind of his activity and hired him as a mercenary. Hellhounds were extremely rare to come across, and so they wanted the aid of a hellhound to help in rounding up supernaturals-at least the ones who harmed the innocent people. At first, he was reluctant, but he needed the coin and he wanted to do something about these deaths that he kept dreaming of. He also disliked having to pilfer from other people’s pockets, and so, he agreed to working for them.
But he couldn’t ever stop people from dying. He kept dreaming of it, and no matter how hard he tried, Death still claimed their lives. So he saw men and women die, falling to the clutches of Death itself, and all he could do was cover their bodies, their secrets. Literally, bringing their secrets to the grave. It seemed that Tobias only came out to clean up whatever mess the hunters had left behind, and would receive his pay from the hunters. It was dirty, rough, but that was Tobias’ life. Then he grew tired of Europe, before finally coming over to the New World, hoping that he could find something else there. He needed to move from Europe anyways, as he had stopped physically aging at some point and people were starting to suspect him.
But even in America, it was still the same. Moving to places where supernatural energy was strong, and keeping to the shadows until it was time for him to answer to the calls of death, working to hide away any corpses so that no human would know about their supernatural world. The world of monsters and men. This went on for the next several centuries, working occasionally with the hunters and druids he befriended in exchange for money. He continued to travel around the world, traveling between America and Europe, and several other countries around the world. Wherever death went, Tobias would follow.
Then he met her. Hazel. 1942. World War II. He was fighting in the war as a soldier for the Allied Forces, on the American side, and was placed in the front lines somewhere in Italy. She was a nurse, having volunteered to work near the frontlines. And as soon as he met her eyes, Tobias was smitten with her. For the first time in ever, he thought his whole world had changed the moment he fell in love with Hazel. She was devastatingly beautiful, with her dark hair and those strong eyes that seemed to show no fear, even in the face of danger. She showed him how to laugh, how to really enjoy life, even in the middle of war. That’s when Tobias began changing his outlook on the world. Death didn’t always have to rule his world, Tobias realized. Not when there were beautiful things in life like Hazel, who was just an ordinary human. He found a new thing worth fighting for in this life: love. Not even death could stop love, at least, that was what he thought.
But oh how so wrong was he, when that horrible dream came upon him. Her body was drenched in blood, her lungs devoid of oxygen. Death would soon come for her. But he was determined to stop it from ever coming true, but the fates were already spinning on their wheels, and before he knew it, he found himself cradling the bloodstained corpse of his love not too long after he had received the vision. And so he had buried her. But he had missed something in his vision. Yes, she had died, but not exactly. No, for she had become an upir, breathing a new life. But Tobias didn’t stay behind to find that out, completely unaware that his love had become a monster. And one thing was clear to Tobias: not even love could escape death’s grip.
After World War II had come and gone, Tobias returned to America and continued living there since then, moving around the various states as the years passed well into the present day. All the while, he kept to himself, keeping a low profile, but he had built up somewhat of a reputation, becoming known as the Red Demon, appearing at only places of death in a visage of flames and making bodies disappear mysteriously. He became a rumor, a myth, and any hunter who had seen him would be lucky to live to tell the tale, for Tobias rarely liked letting anyone see him so far out into the open. He also began to craft personas, masks to hide behind while walking in the human crowd, until he finally settled on one: the facade of a cheerful, friendly young man. No one would ever suspect that he was a monster, right?
He lived in New Orleans for a while, working a mercenary and helping several hunters take out supernaturals before he found himself drawn to another place: Beacon Hills. And so, he drove all the way over the seemingly peaceful town, and found himself a job as a bartender, keeping himself in disguise. But he knows that soon, death will strike, and he will be ready to greet it.
/// PERSONALITY ///
Hiding behind a deceptively cheerful facade, Toby comes across as a friendly, seemingly innocuous individual. One would never think that he was one of those mythical, frightening monsters of the dead. Harbingers of death, guardians of the supernatural. But underneath that sweet, charming smile lurks a dark, tortured soul who’s seen death in many different lives, the burden of his task as a protector of supernatural secrets weighing heavily on his shoulders. He knows much more than he lets on, and despite his amiable exterior, Toby is a ruthless creature who will stop at nothing to erase a smudge if it means protecting the world from the horrors of the supernatural. Humans fear things that they don’t know. Hard-headed and stubborn to the very end, Toby won’t budge from the path that he sets himself on. Some might say he’s emotionless, cold like marble, but he’s not heartless. The fear, the sadness. Everything. He just hides it almost too well, having practiced that fake, diplomatic smile in front of the mirror.
HISTORY:
✣✣ 15th century, Medieval Ireland ✣✣
A sharp, bawling cry pierced the air as the dark-haired woman gave the final push, her fingers clutching the blood-stained bedsheets. ‘Mo mhac. Tabhair dó dom.’ The soft whisper came like a ragged thread of air, as the woman weakly extended her arms out to hold the newborn in her arms. The old crone gave a solemn nod, swaddling the small infant, before gently sliding the mewling baby into the mother’s outstretched arms.
His eyes were beautiful, as if the Gods had taken a piece out of the sapphire skies to mold his eyes from, and they were burning with a hidden fire too.
‘Oh my blessed child,’ came the soft, happy whisper that brushed against the warm forehead.
✣✣✣✣✣
Thwack! His head jerked back as the punch exploded into the young boy’s cheek, causing him to draw a sharp intake of breath, pain blooming across his face. Right about now, he didn’t feel so particularly lucky right now, Tobias mused to himself miserably as his brows knitted together in an annoyed scowl. A wry smirk dancing on his lips, with a thin thread of crimson tracing his cut lip, the boy instantly lifted up his thin, slender arms, petite hands curled into defiant fists. “Come on, I could do this all day,” he let loose the breathless, ragged taunt, smirking up into the scowling faces of the two bigger, brutish boys who towered over the smaller, petite young blonde boy. ‘Ya got a death wish, or sumthin, kid?’ before another fist came swinging down, boxing him on his left ear and sending the boy sprawling into the dirt. Tobias felt the bread tumble out of his fingers, and he knew that he really wasn’t feeling lucky today. But then again, when was he ever?
‘Just try stealing from us again, boyo, and you’ll say goodbye to that hand of yours!’ One of them snarled as he picked up Toby again, catching him by the scruff of his shirt. “This hand, you mean?” He sneered as his right fist came popping out of nowhere, catching the other boy by the nose, which cracked noisily under the impact. And Tobias found himself released immediately from the howling boy’s grip, grinning mirthlessly as he watched the boy clap his hands over his gushing nose. ‘You demon!’ The other boy screeched, lunging for Toby, but he was too quick and already out of his reach. “Maybe!” He only hollered back, laughing over his shoulder as he scrambled away from the boys. He’d deal with them on another day, but for now, his pa was waiting for him back at home.
‘Tobias! Not again!’
The scowling facade of the older, bearded man greeted the twelve-year old boy at the threshold of the small cottage as soon as Tobias came marching up the sloping hill. “What? They started it, Pa!” He retorted, huffing in frustration as he swiped his sleeve against his muddied, bruised cheek. The towering, stocky man shook his head in disappointment, crossing his arms as he watched his son stride inside the small house. ‘Sometimes I envy your mother, God rest her soul. What would she say if she saw you now?’
Rolling his eyes at that, Tobias scoffed as his shoulders rolled in a casual shrug. “Well, Pa, I never met her, so I can’t really tell you that.” Almost as soon as he had let loose that remark, a thundering sound of footsteps approached him from behind, followed by a loud slapping sound before Tobias tumbled forward, the back of his head smarting from the slap. “OW!”
‘Watch your mouth, lad,’ His father only warned, and one look into those thunderous blue eyes was all that it took to humble the young boy, who gave a small nod. “Sorry.”
A sigh escaped the older man’s lips as he stared sternly down into the blue gaze of his son.
‘Did you at least kick their arses?’
Tobias grinned. “Oh yeah. I did.”
✣✣✣✣✣
He woke up screaming in a burning world that was flickering in shades of orange and red. The flames. The warmth spread all throughout his body. They were everywhere! On the ground, the ceiling, his cot. He should have been suffocating, with the flames swarming all over him. But most of all, it should have burned him. Instead, it only seemed to go right through him. As if the flames were attracted to him. His veins were singing with heat as Tobias stared down at his fingers in shock. The flames were coming from his own hands. Fear struck him as he realized that the fire that was soon swallowing up the cottage had been started by his own hands. “Pa!” He finally screamed, as he realized that he couldn’t stop the fire that was surging with a great intensity. No no no. This was just another nightmare, just like the one that he had just woken up from. He had seen a horrifying vision in his dreams. A man who had shifted into a horrifying monster. A wolf. A beast. What was it? Or more importantly, what was Tobias?
Feet pounding, he found himself shouting for a father who was long gone, his body charred to the point that the old druid was unrecognizable. “No!” The desperate scream escaped past Tobias’ lips as he stumbled before the charred lump, fingers shaking as he touched the burned corpse only to have it shatter to ashes underneath his touch.
Maybe he really was a demon, bringing death to those he loved.
✣✣✣✣✣
He was only thirteen, when Tobias had first discovered that he was not entirely human. He had left his family’s cottage in flames, running away into the woods in fear. He didn’t know where his feet were taking him. He only knew that he needed to find someone. Something that reeked of death. Something that he had to hide. But what? Something was whispering to him from the shadows. You must protect our world. Protect the secrets. What secrets? His questions were answered when he came stumbling across several bodies lying in the ground. Werewolves. Left for dead by passing hunters. He could smell the death and supernatural power reeking off of their corpses. And somehow, Tobias knew. He just knew that he had to do something. It was like something else had possessed him. Like a demon. Without a second thought, the boy went to burying the corpses, covering up whatever secrets their bodies held. He couldn’t understand it, why he was knee deep in dirt and mud, and wondered if his mind was broken. Maybe he had gone crazy. After all, he had just accidentally started a fire and killed his father with it.
Why? Who am I? What am I? Those questions would continue to plague Tobias for the next several years, as he began a nomadic life, running away from his home and all that he had once held dear. Every time his emotions ran high, his fingers would spark with flame and so he had to work hard at controlling it. He also feared contact with the humans everywhere he went, hiding himself behind a cloak and keeping his mouth shut. He must be a mute, they often said. He wasn’t, but he was fine letting them think otherwise. Better that they know nothing than to see him for what he truly was. He was a monster, that he concluded about himself as he traveled through Ireland. It was tough, living life in the gritty streets and roads, nearly starving everywhere he went. Steal. Kill. He had to fight his way almost out of every situation he had found himself in. A survivalist. He learned how to pick-pocket better, toss a knife properly, and improvised his fighting methods. As he grew older, Tobias came to understand that he was stronger than most humans, gifted with the ability to generate and control flames.
But most of all, Tobias was cursed with the damning visions, all boding of death and horrifying monsters. The voices whispered to him, telling him to protect the secrets. That was when Tobias realized there was something severely wrong with him, and so he had started traveling with nomadic priests, trying to find some answers in religion. There was nothing in their scrolls, their texts, or prayers that could answer his own questions. So he left religion as well, deciding that, he wasn’t going to find a simple answer in a plain old grimoire. He was something else entirely. And so, he continued running in the shadows, trying to protect himself from the eyes of the world. The only times that he ever pulled himself from the shadows were to answer to the calls of his task. Death. His feet somehow managed to find their own path, leading only to more bodies and death in other places. Scotland. England. He had traveled to these places, drawn to places that hummed with great supernatural energy. And he did what he does best: hiding secrets. By the time he was 30 years old, Tobias had become well-adjusted to his powers, understanding that he couldn’t stop whatever he was doing. Getting visitations of death, going to places where death reeked, and covering up the bodies that were left behind. He came to understand that there was more to this world. Like werewolves, chimeras, and druids. Hunters too.
✣✣✣✣✣
The more he encountered these supers, Tobias came closer to understanding what he was: A hellhound. A guardian of the supernatural. And so, as time passed, he came to envy humans, for they were blessed with the gift of ignorance. They didn’t have to deal with the visions, this heavy weight of the world on his shoulders, and do the dirty work of covering up the bodies. Humans fear what they don’t know. So it’s better for them to not see what’s really there. As Tobias roamed through England, several hunters had caught wind of his activity and hired him as a mercenary. Hellhounds were extremely rare to come across, and so they wanted the aid of a hellhound to help in rounding up supernaturals-at least the ones who harmed the innocent people. At first, he was reluctant, but he needed the coin and he wanted to do something about these deaths that he kept dreaming of. He also disliked having to pilfer from other people’s pockets, and so, he agreed to working for them.
But he couldn’t ever stop people from dying. He kept dreaming of it, and no matter how hard he tried, Death still claimed their lives. So he saw men and women die, falling to the clutches of Death itself, and all he could do was cover their bodies, their secrets. Literally, bringing their secrets to the grave. It seemed that Tobias only came out to clean up whatever mess the hunters had left behind, and would receive his pay from the hunters. It was dirty, rough, but that was Tobias’ life. Then he grew tired of Europe, before finally coming over to the New World, hoping that he could find something else there. He needed to move from Europe anyways, as he had stopped physically aging at some point and people were starting to suspect him.
But even in America, it was still the same. Moving to places where supernatural energy was strong, and keeping to the shadows until it was time for him to answer to the calls of death, working to hide away any corpses so that no human would know about their supernatural world. The world of monsters and men. This went on for the next several centuries, working occasionally with the hunters and druids he befriended in exchange for money. He continued to travel around the world, traveling between America and Europe, and several other countries around the world. Wherever death went, Tobias would follow.
✣✣✣✣✣
Then he met her. Hazel. 1942. World War II. He was fighting in the war as a soldier for the Allied Forces, on the American side, and was placed in the front lines somewhere in Italy. She was a nurse, having volunteered to work near the frontlines. And as soon as he met her eyes, Tobias was smitten with her. For the first time in ever, he thought his whole world had changed the moment he fell in love with Hazel. She was devastatingly beautiful, with her dark hair and those strong eyes that seemed to show no fear, even in the face of danger. She showed him how to laugh, how to really enjoy life, even in the middle of war. That’s when Tobias began changing his outlook on the world. Death didn’t always have to rule his world, Tobias realized. Not when there were beautiful things in life like Hazel, who was just an ordinary human. He found a new thing worth fighting for in this life: love. Not even death could stop love, at least, that was what he thought.
But oh how so wrong was he, when that horrible dream came upon him. Her body was drenched in blood, her lungs devoid of oxygen. Death would soon come for her. But he was determined to stop it from ever coming true, but the fates were already spinning on their wheels, and before he knew it, he found himself cradling the bloodstained corpse of his love not too long after he had received the vision. And so he had buried her. But he had missed something in his vision. Yes, she had died, but not exactly. No, for she had become an upir, breathing a new life. But Tobias didn’t stay behind to find that out, completely unaware that his love had become a monster. And one thing was clear to Tobias: not even love could escape death’s grip.
✣✣ Present Day ✣✣
After World War II had come and gone, Tobias returned to America and continued living there since then, moving around the various states as the years passed well into the present day. All the while, he kept to himself, keeping a low profile, but he had built up somewhat of a reputation, becoming known as the Red Demon, appearing at only places of death in a visage of flames and making bodies disappear mysteriously. He became a rumor, a myth, and any hunter who had seen him would be lucky to live to tell the tale, for Tobias rarely liked letting anyone see him so far out into the open. He also began to craft personas, masks to hide behind while walking in the human crowd, until he finally settled on one: the facade of a cheerful, friendly young man. No one would ever suspect that he was a monster, right?
He lived in New Orleans for a while, working a mercenary and helping several hunters take out supernaturals before he found himself drawn to another place: Beacon Hills. And so, he drove all the way over the seemingly peaceful town, and found himself a job as a bartender, keeping himself in disguise. But he knows that soon, death will strike, and he will be ready to greet it.
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