Maybe something like this? I might need to focus it a little more...
[hider=Chris Grey]
[b]Name (and or Alias):[/b] Christopher “Chris” Arnold Grey
[b]Gender:[/b] Male
[b]Age:[/b] 33
[b]Lineage:[/b] Scottish-American, third generation

[b]Fate: [color=lightblue]3[/color][/b]

[b]Occupational Status:[/b] Veterinarian. He works for a small clinic in his town and is usually involved in animal surgery or other less-than-glamourous parts of the position. He’s an excellent vet who takes his job very seriously, sometimes too seriously in some cases. Generally, people are quite uncomfortable with him when he is asked to communicate to customers, but his pure efficiency as an animal doctor is more than enough reason to keep him around.

Besides the usual, sometimes Christopher is called in by pounds or other places to euthanize the animals when the population gets too big, and he’s one of the few with the constitution and the knowledge to be able to do it in the most comfortable way possible for the animal. 
 Lastly, being one of the most skilled vets in the area; sometimes he’s called in by the police or other investigation teams to identify 
Previous Occupations: During his lengthy stay in school, he worked through numerous jobs. Research Assistants, Teacher’s Aids, Archive Organization, Libraries. There were even a couple coffee shop jobs in there that lasted a couple months. Christopher’s struggle with customer service and people was an effective roadblock in these careers. The less he had to interact with people, the better. 

[b]Physical Description:[/b] Standing at about 6’2”, Christopher is in a decent physical condition. He’s broad-shouldered with a thicker chest and a flat, slate face. His eyes are dark and nondescript, though they are held behind frameless glasses most of the time. His hair is kept in a simple crew cut that he usually trims with his own razor.

 People sometimes describe him as gaunt or menacing, but most are caught off guard by the neutrality of his expression most of the time. He doesn’t react to most jokes, and for some reason, his job never appears to stress him out. He’s like a tall, effective tool with nimble hands. Even his manner of dress is quite neutral. When he’s not wearing a lab coat over a pair of slacks and a grey collared shirt, he’s wearing a similar outfit on weekends or a day off.

[b]Psychological Profile:[/b] Christopher’s world is very black-and-white in many ways. There are people that succumb to their vices, and those who don’t; People who work hard and people who are lazy; People who would stand up to defend those who cannot, and cowards. He perceives himself on the white side, and it drastically affects his relationships and understanding of people. Some could describe him as mildly neurotic, and they may not be wrong. He just knows that there are some things in the world that are good things, and there are some things in the world that are bad things. And if he must be the one that purges the bad things to save the good, then so be it.

 As such, most of the affection he has seems to be shared with the animals that he works with and… that’s about it. He’s yet to meet someone that has the same dedication that he has, and he is very quick to judge someone’s character. Most of his joy comes from animals and working with them. He is very prideful in this sense. He just doesn’t believe that anyone could have the same dedication to preserving good that he has, though he’s also treading that line carefully. He needs to be working constantly with these animals and saving other people, because, without that, he would just be another monster. He copes by saving lives whenever possible.

[b]Vices: [/b]

[i]Work[/i] – He’s a workaholic, and will spend as much time as he can at his job in the hopes of preserving the lives of the animals that he encounters.

[i]Wrath[/i] – One of the few times that Christopher smiles is when he’s beating the shit out of someone else. He’s always had a bit of a twisted mentality towards violence in general, but he almost craves that adrenaline, even though it’s far into the black of his own perception. That’s why he tries to limit it to protecting other things or people, because that’s the only justification he has. It’s an addiction, essentially. If he doesn’t find just outlets for his need of violence, then he isn’t going to be able to manage it at all.

[b]Background:[/b]  Growing up in a very religious family, Christopher always struggled with the belief as a whole. Believing in something without seeing it was never something he was ready to accept. Unfortunately, his father was a strong believer in corporal punishment, so Chris learned quickly how to keep his mouth shut and follow the rules as they stood. As he grew older, however, he began to resent these ideas. He started to fabricate his own morals, Christian ideals without the belief. This time, when his dad came to punish him for his differing ideals, Chris snapped. No longer was he willing to listen to this brainwashing drabble. So, when his father came out with a familiar paddle, Chris followed his gut reaction and hit him in the face.

 Then it kept going. He didn’t stop with just one punch, he started to take out every moment of frustration on his father, pushing through each time his father hurt him for choosing his own path. Chris relished the feeling. He loved listening to his father gasp with each punch to the stomach, and he was justified in this. Chris was delivering penance for all the suffering his father had caused him.

 This incident resulted in a visit to the hospital for his father, many conversations with Social Services for him and the entirety of his family, and when Chris showed some scars on his chest and back from some more “experimental” punishment, it was more than enough reason for them to separate the poor boy from his father, who lashed out in self-defence. The other condition was numerous psyche evaluations of the young boy because the damage done was clearly more than self-defense.

 The problem with evaluations is that they’re just like tests, and if you know what you’re studying, you can pass tests with flying colours. The only extra thing that they suggested for him was some kind of service dog for anxiety and other things. Its name was Armstrong, and he was the dog that brought Chris to realize that the only thing you could trust in the world was loyal animals.

  As he grew up more, a few more of these similar situations had arisen over time. Kids at school getting sent to the hospital with broken ribs and noses, bullies who were picking on a young girl with dislocated elbows and more broken bones. Chris believed that he had a right to that pleasure as long as it was for just reasons. And as long as he kept telling himself that, there was a reason to enjoy hurting others.

  Then one night, he got into a fight with a vampire. He really had no idea of what he was going against, but he heard a woman scream outside his residence room in his first year. He ran outside and after the noise, and he came across a student in one of his night classes with fangs deep in another student. He tried to engage in a fight but found that he was outclassed for one of the first times. A punch to the ribs seemed to do nothing to them as they practically batted him out of the way with a simple slap. Something broke in his arm, and he was left watching helplessly as the vampire drained the girl completely. With her still draped in his arms, the vampire walked away, leaving him alive “for another day.” The vampire said.

 Chris was at a loss. There was no pleasure to gain from fighting a losing battle, and how was good supposed to triumph darkness if darkness was so strong? This one event essentially destroyed his trust in humanity forever. How could he trust humans knowing that people with whom he studied were actually monsters? How could he trust humans knowing who he was? No, it wasn’t his problem. His actions were just.
 It was all other humans that he couldn’t trust…

[b]Recent History:[/b]  Much to his chagrin, Chris hasn’t really been able to log many hours in at the animal hospital. Each day he shows up hoping they’ll let him do his job for once, and each day he’s told that the police need his help with an autopsy. So he slogs over to the human hospital to examine bites at the morgue. And each day the image of that girl having her blood sucked out strikes his mind as he examines massive bites or scratches on bodies.

 And since he hasn’t been able to work, all he’s been able to think about is what kind of animal is killing these people. There have been three victims, each with similar wounds. Dog-like bites larger the bear jaws, eviscerated arms made by some kind of claw, yet there’s no dog or other animals in existence that makes marks like this. He tells the police the truth each time, but, in reality, he’s not sure if he can keep going back. Without work to distract him he’s just getting angry, and since he has no just outlet for his anger, he’s starting to wonder if he’s actually as just as he thinks he is.


[/hider]