Name: William Anderson
Age: 18 (Senior)
Gender: Male
Power:
Canine ManipulationPersonality: Quiet, Contemplative, and Straight Forward would be the best way to William. He's willing to speak his mind when necessary, though he tends to stay silent unless spoken to in the company of strangers. Among peers, he is talkative and thoughtful, and he enjoys making others laugh. At the bottom of it all, he is intensely loyal, and would do anything for those closest to him.
Likes: Dogs, Video Games, Music, Writing
Dislikes: The heat, birds, especially vultures, people who take advantage of the weakness of others
History: William Anderson was born in a small town in northern Ontario, Canada. His father was originally from Pavar, and moved to Canada for school before meeting William's mother. They were married, and had two children; first a daughter, Winona, then a son three years later, William. The siblings were raised in Canada until William was eight, when his father's failing health prompted them to move closer to his family. Will adjusted poorly to the new environment, a situation that only grew worse when, two years later, his father died of pancreatic cancer.
Teased and bullied as he grew older, William managed to sink deeper and deeper into obscurity until the teasing stopped, fading into the background of any situation. This did not last, however, as the appearance of his powers allowed him to gain confidence, and he slowly dug himself out of the rut he had created for himself in self-defence. His mild and submissive personality remained however, though he works to overcome it.
Nowadays he spends most of his time at home with his family, and doesn't go much of anywhere without at least one of his dogs; Murphy, a three year old male German Shepard, Gracie, an eight year old female Beagle, and Oliver, a one year old male Toy Poodle.
Awakening:
Will's ears were ringing. He could hear barking. He tried to focus, but the throbbing in his head blurred his vision and made his arms weak. He was brought out of his trance by a swift kick to his side. The small fourteen year old looked up and managed to focus on his attackers; a pack of rowdy teenagers, four of them, and about three years older. They stood around him in a circle, baring down menacingly on him, like vultures. They must have pushed him down from behind.
"Get up, Will," the biggest grunted, smiling a wide, crooked smile, lacking a few teeth.
"Come on Willy, don't be such a wuss," taunted the skinny one, his voice higher but no less malicious.
"Just give us our money," said the tallest, his long greasy hair pulled up in a pony tail, "and we'll be on our way."
Will recognized them from his school; miscreants and ne'er-do-wells, held back a few years but still a grade higher than he was. He had been in Pavar for seven years, but still hadn't shaken his reputation as the easiest punching bag in the school. Most ignored him now, but there were a few especially malevolent who would single him out. He had hoped that once he had reached high school things could be different. He was wrong.
Another kick came to his side, but Will managed to tuck and avoid most of it. He started to stand, picking up his backpack from where it had fallen at his side. He held the bag to his stomach, his eyes darting around the circle of boys as he stood up straight. This particular group had decided to harass him every few days for any money they could get. It wasn't much, only what he could scrounge together doing odd jobs around the neighbourhood, but it was his.
"Pay up, Will." Said the final boy, his voice deep and intimidating. This one was easily the strongest, his arms thick with muscle. He was short, only a few inches taller than Will, but was clearly the leader of this little racket. He never said much. He preferred to speak with his fists.
Will's breath was ragged. His head was pounding, and his legs were shaking. He couldn't give them his money, not anymore. That meant fight or flight, and Will knew there was no chance in hell of fighting the older boys off alone. So he ran. He kicked off, dodging around the skinny boy, barely slipping between his fingers. Expletives could be heard as the strong boy barked at the others to follow. He didn't need to look back. The thundering of feet told Will all he needed know.
Will felt adrenaline coursing through him, his basest instincts powering his legs forward. Despite this, he could hear their footsteps growing closer. As they sprinted down the side-walk, Will's ears were drawn to the sound of barking. He turned a corner, and passed through the gate to a junk yard, full of hollowed out vehicles, left to rust. Looking back only for a moment, Will saw his pursuers close behind him.
Left, right, another left, the sound of barking was the only thing that pierced through the thickening haze in his mind as his head throbbed harder. No other thoughts were passing through Will's mind other than run, hide, and survive. Turning a final corner, Will found himself at the office of the yard, and out front, the source of the barking; two dogs, chained to a pair of dog houses.
The cloud in his mind seemed to lift as Will sprinted for the canines. Almost instinctually, Will dove between the dogs, turning to press his back against the dog houses. The dogs, a slobbery Pit-bull and powerful Great Dane, paid little mind to the smaller boy, instead turning their attention to the gang following him. They continued to bark, though to Will, the barking was no longer jarring or frightening as it might have once been, but was instead almost comforting. He knew, almost instinctually, that these dogs would protect him.
The teenagers came to a stop just out of reach of the chains restraining the guard dogs. They looked puzzled, surely confused as to why the ferocious beasts were completely ignoring the frail boy. The tallest one even looked on edge.
The deliberated for a moment, then shoved the skinny one forward. He approached slowly, but the dogs only barked louder. He tried to go around, but the dogs followed, straining at the end of their chains, jumping and gnashing their teeth.
"I-I can't-" The skinny boy stammered, looking back to his friends, "It's like they're protecting him."
"What?" shouted the strongest boy, mockingly, "You gonna hide behind the big bad mutts forever, punk?"
Will managed to stand, shakily, but with a giddiness rising inside him. He turned to the hooks holding back the dogs.
"No, no more hiding," Will said, confidence in his voice rising. He could feel his link to the canines growing stronger by the second, gripping the hooks. "No more flight." Will mumbled. He unhooked the chains, and commanded the dogs to Fight.
