[*][b]Name (and or Alias):[/b][i] Asher Tybalt[/i][/*]
[*][b]Gender:[/b][i] Male[/i][/*]
[*][b]Age:[/b][i] Born April 21st, 1989 (25 years old)[/i][/*]
[*][b]Lineage:[/b][i] Caucasian - Mixed European Descent (English-Germanic) - Naturalized Zoanthrope (Weretiger)[/i][/*]
[*][b]Fate:[/b][i] Remaining: 2, Expended: 1[/i][/*]
[*][b]Fate Expenditures:[/b][/*] [hider=Naturalized Zoanthrope (1)]
[b]Naturalized Zoanthrope (Weretiger):[/b]

[b][i]Information[/i][/b]
[i]Of the zoanthropes the weretiger holds a unique place among the rarest and most rightfully feared; it is an unnatural beast of tremendous power and incredible ferocity. Yet the weretiger is equally one of the more unusual zoanthropes in that, while known for unmatched savagery and viciousness, is not largely an aggressor. The majority of weretigers who do exist are naturally occurring with one, at times both, parents being weretigers. Surprisingly, most natural weretigers hold a remarkable amount of self control; they are often of an understanding with their other nature and innately capable of holding back its violence. This does not rule out the continued existence of their wrath, that of which is truly infamous; a provoked weretiger is prone to turn from calm companion to roaring fury. Because of this, most natural weretigers are known to have decidedly aggressive streaks to their personality as manifested outlets of their supernatural fury.[/i]

[i]Most afflicted weretigers are the result of another weretiger making a conscious decision to pass on the blood curse, as few human victims ever survive an encounter with one who has been infuriated to the point that they would let loose claw and fang. Such afflicted individuals often struggle with the tiger's propensity for violence and find great difficulty in controlling their anger or irritability. When truly uncontrolled most weretigers fight to kill anything of which proves to be too foolish to get out of harm's way, at times including those they would regularly never consider harming. These rages are often brief unless the weretiger fails to enact revenge against the thing which drove it to anger.[/i]

[i]As a whole weretigers are the rarest of ailuranthropes and their lineage finds itself traced back to Asia but has since expanded globally with time. Most weretigers without an Asian or Indian heritage are Caucasians of American or English nationality, given that historically both countries have been particularly active in these regions and even more so in the later 20th century.[/i]

[b][i]Backstory[/i][/b]
[i]For Asher Tybalt the beginning of his life was set well on the course for failure before it even began as his mother, a younger woman, knew few of her partners quite well; she spent her nights out and away from home, wasting the education that her family had fought so readily for. It was on one of these nights where his mother, enjoying a party as she was, was charmed by an unusual man with dark hair and a cunning, almost animal magnetism to his personality; having already had a few drinks she was more than willing to oblige him and his advances. It was this man who would be Asher's father - a man he would never meet - and just as quickly as he met Asher's mother, he was as quick to disappear from her life all in the same night, having passed on the curse to the child the woman soon bore.[/i][/hider]
[*][b]Relationship Status:[/b] [i]Single[/i][/*]
[*][b]Occupational Status:[/b][/*][hider=Consumer Data Entry]
[b]Description:[/b]
[i]Asher Tybalt finds himself mired in the world of consumer data entry - a job in which, day in and day out, he busies himself by entering the personal information and habits of customers. Such a decision was not made without rationale, as Asher, well aware of his blood's curse, sought an occupation that required little direct interaction with others unless absolutely required; it too provided a sense of normalcy, a regular life of which he could not normally live - the idea of "Everyone commutes to work, hates working in cubicles, and gossips about one another behind each others' backs, then goes home before sunset." Though not fond of his work, and truly loathing its monotony, Asher tries to accept his reality as best one can, and shrink away from the truth that, on some nights, stares him back so clearly in the mirror.[/i]

[i]For Asher, his coworkers provide more than sufficient insanity, and the already withdrawn man only stays separated further. Most view him as timid, or quiet, not wanting to start conflict or even so much as talk, but few could ever imagine the rationale behind such behavior, let alone believe it. Ostracized, much of his time is spent actually working than socializing, which is in great contrast to his peers. Inadvertently this has but only earned him more work, more pressure, and more stress; forced to take on the added work load of his coworkers, his superiors hold unrealistic expectations from him, all while turning a blind eye to their other subordinates.[/i]

[i]As of recent times Asher has drifted closer and closer to that ever present threat, no longer remaining so tolerant and passive; aware of this, he fears what could easily be the result...[/i][/hider]
[*][b]Physical Description:[/b][/*][hider=Human Description]
[b]Description:[/b]
[i]Asher is gifted with unusual athleticism and charm for a man who spends most of his days inside several thin office walls; his height, and build, both atypically tall and lean, are subtle indicators that he is more than just an average man. Standing at six feet four inches, he is ill suited to his economy car and small apartment, let alone most of the world around him; his build doesn't help either, and brings to mind questions as to his hobbies and level of exercise. Though not the form of a polished athlete, Asher is surprisingly muscular and could be, at a glance, mistaken for an individual who takes fitness at a more serious level than the common person. Again, like his father Asher is clean shaven, with his dark hair cut close and tight, and eyes glinting with an unusual underlying cunning - one that never seems to manifest and does not seem appropriate for a man who appears to be so quiet and submissive.[/i]

[i]Having tried to live a more tame, controlled life, Asher has no piercings, no tattoos - nothing that could readily identify him, and nothing that could provide reason for attention. Dressing modestly day in and out, his most common apparel is an informal business attire, most often a white long sleeved shirt, black pants and dress shoes, and a simple tie; a dress code which strangely irritates him given its restrictiveness and conformity.[/i][/hider]
[*][b]Alternate Physical Description:[/b][/*][hider=Alternate Form Description]
[b]Description:[/b]
[i][url=http://postimg.org/image/pasjj4g2x/]The other aspect of Asher is a far cry from his humanity[/url] - it is not only enormous, but wholly fearsome, rippling with unnatural musculature and cloaked in a striped pelt. For him, the transformation is violent and prolonged over a minute as his nails thicken and curve into powerful claws and his jaws reform into a maw of deadly fangs; growing to a height of nearly eight feet, balanced on pawed feet with hostile golden eyes, little evidence of Asher himself remains when he takes on his alternate form. With ample strength and agility, Asher's weretiger form is far more capable than he, as a mere person, could ever dream to be - its terrifying and uncontrolled supernatural power visibly evident.[/i]

[i]A powerful abomination of human and bestial forms, Asher Tybalt's "other self" is of an orange, edging toward yellowed hue, with a lighter cream coloration upon the interior of his limbs from throat to abdomen, but most iconically marked by irregular nearly ebony brown markings. Despite this, like any other ailuranthrope, seems to fade into concealment when provided even the scarcest of cover or darkness.[/i][/hider]
[*][b]Psychological Profile:[/b][/*][hider=Psychological Profile Description]
[b]Description:[/b]
[i]If there ever was a man one could feel the presence of the unusual from, it is Asher Tybalt. His timidness and aversion to conflict is a behavior of coping he has developed and managed for some time, and his silence even in conversation proves awkward, but one can rationalize his conclusions as wrong as they may be; one can't cause issue with others if they prove not to challenge them. He fears, truly fears, that his uncontrolled anger and denial of his condition could come unhinged - that anger, or even argument, could bring out a murderous, savage side to him. First hand has he witnessed what his unregulated personality has in mind, and by the mere way he trembles in his hands as they clench in argument, one can see he is a loose cannon; the unstable postal worker.[/i]

[i]Though he tries to bury his hatred and memory by venting it on monotonous and seemingly mind numbing tasks, Asher can truly never forget what it is he had done; it earned him, to some extent, infamy in the media although they never knew - would never suspect - the two events to share correlation. Blocking out the savage death his tapped anger brought with it, he shows signs of terrible anxiety and even elements of post-traumatic stress; he nervously toys with pens, shakes a single leg, or taps a finger to a palm, all while proving somewhat easily startled when distracted or focused.[/i]

[i]When away from the stressful, demanding environment of his workplace, he reads profusely to preoccupy his thoughts. Much of the material he studies is of factual nature, again trying to remove the possibility from his mind that his condition is all very real despite it being clearly being of the impossible nature. When not reading he instead preoccupies his time by further mundanity such as obsessively cleaning and removing evidence of his other form, going so far as to collect each and every feline hair he can, and replace every broken cup or clawed wall.[/i]

[i]On evenings of the full moon his anxiety controls him outright and he attempts to the best of his ability to not alter his pattern of behavior, clinging fearfully to what it is that he knows and not face that which is unknown to him. This is, as one can muse, a tactic which does meld well with his weretiger blood, and once freed the beast roams the night with deadly curiosity...[/i][/hider]
[*][b]Vices:[/b][i] Mismanagement of anger and lack of psychological treatment.[/i][/*]
[*][b]Background:[/b][/*][hider=Background]
[b]Description:[/b]
[i]An only child, Asher Tybalt spent many of his early years as an outcast among his would-be family; his mother essentially disowned, his upbringing was largely around her, and despite her continued attempts to calm the unusual behavior and aggression she and others noted in Asher, he turned out for the worse rather than the better. His public education rather poor, Asher failed to excel in school where much of his energy was spent on outbursts of anger when pressed to engage in activities he did not desire part in. At best a "B" student and more often than not attaining a C, he cared nothing for organized learning, instead desiring solitude and the ability to read - his comprehension of which was above those in his grade, but never found itself applied.[/i]

[i]As time progressed and Asher found himself in the world of a younger man, his future choices were limited between work and a military career. Having not yet discovered his true nature and not wanting to conform to a rigid social structure and life, Asher pursued work, doing minor jobs as he tried to press on through the remainder of his schooling. Yet as his maturity progressed, he altered in ways he did not expect and honed without cause; his mother, desperate to cling to some good that came from the entire unintended pregnancy told him that he was, in some ways a striking echo of his father - that he would be charming and strong. Unwilling to listen, considering his father dead to him, Asher continued an aimless path until the rise of the moon on one particular summer night.[/i]

[i]Away from home and "family" - his mother - Asher sat in the quiet evening attempting to hone one of his few skills - writing. As dusk at last fell he could not explain his anxiousness or sudden pacing, and attributed his unusual lack of focus to frustration, but as the silver orb ultimately crested the horizon he found himself transfixed by it; pained inexplicably, he struggled to fight the rush of adrenaline that accompanied his change. With progressively agonizing breaths he twisted and altered under the moon's presence until he tore free of both his mortal bonds and clothes alike...[/i]

[i]Unknowingly he wandered for hours, stalking, hunting and adapting to his true nature against his will, watching helplessly as this seemingly foreign entity controlled his movements, but at the same time he knew well that it was he who was fueling this horror. It was not until the sun of the next day fell upon him that he at last awoke from his terror; a dream all too real. Gathering himself up, clothes torn free and his body nicked and marred in faint places, he believed himself to have hallucinated - that someone had drugged him. With haste he returned home, not to speak of the incident to anyone else, fearing what it was that the event could have inferred...[/i]

[i]In time Asher suffered these recurring "nightmares", as he termed them, and devoted a sole book to their occurrences; writing his vivid dreams and hallucinations, he noted how he seemed to faintly influence them, that some how he all along drove this monster to act. Curious, yet imaginably worried, Asher devoted more recollection and prompting to them until they became a strange comfort, somehow giving him the power and freedom he desired at heart, but with time his pride, and temper grew. A more confident, charming young man, he made a mistake that many young zoanthropes fall prey to; violence.[/i]

[i]After a night at a bar Asher, stumbling, returned to his car, only to be stopped cold in his tracks by a lone man who had crept in upon him from the shadows. With a worn leather jacket pocket containing the faint glint of metal, the man demanded Asher hand over his wallet and keys - the entirety, in a sense, of what he owned as a young man. Inebriated, as well as youthfully brave and foolish, Asher taunted the man mocking him with a gun gesture of his own. Unimpressed, the man struck, and as the hammer of the revolver fell the night roared twice; once with the sound of iron thunder and the second time with a primal, unholy bellow.[/i]

[i]Asher, standing over his attacker, felt the run of red between his claws and the warmth of escaping life down his jowls; he had never killed before, but as he looked down upon the man he felt unrelenting hate and bewildering fear. It was he who had done this - he, Asher Tybalt, not this other. He had wanted to kill the man after the bullet tore and bit deep into his flesh - a wound which now stained the white of the fur that was his chest. However nothing could be done... he could not will this away; it was not a dream, mere imagination, no, he was very much this thing and that which he had done was all real as well.[/i][/hider]
[*][b]Recent History:[/b][/*][hider=Recent History]
[b]Description:[/b]
[i]Having lived alone in his adult life so modestly Asher has steadily gathered his meager earnings into savings in the hope that one day he need not work again; the psychological pressures building upon him as well as his unnatural anxiety, he wishes to be out of the environment he finds himself currently in, knowing that no matter how hard he tries he can never truly blend among the rest of society. His coworkers, still belittling him and prying him, as well as his boss providing undue pressure, have made Asher a hair trigger. Another major change or turning point in Asher's life is likely to break him and put him into a state of mixed repressed anger ousted and longed for freedom, as twisted and savage as it is; a zoanthrope hiding and sheltering - let alone fearing - their nature is a recipe for imminent disaster.[/i]

[i]Ready for a life change in more ways than one, he's unaware of the strange turn of events impending upon him and a select few others - all he can hope, is that when things do change, they at last change for the better, as his familiarity with change... well, it only suggests that things can go from bad to worse...[/i][/hider]