[hider=Alexander Reese]
[img]http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/viva_espanyol/11966948/25329/25329_600.jpg[/img]

Full Name: Alexander Marcus Reese

Nicknames/Alias/AKA: 
Name Currently in use: James Alexander Reese

Age: (Cycle 2) 26

Gender: Male 

DOB: 8-28-1921 2nd cycle 4-11-1992 
Occupation: 
Firefighter, Blacksmith (Kinda Hobby)

Race: Dragon

Hair Color: Bronze 

Eye Color: Left Blue, Right Caramel 

Height and Build: 6’ 
203Lbs Lean Muscle 

Other Appearance: In his dragon form he has copper scales running up and down the top of his arms, and the entirety of his legs and torso, with large leathery wings and a tail that reaches 3 feet in length. He tends to carry a scorched black quarter around with him everywhere and his right ear sometimes (often) twitches when he lies. His voice is quite plain, if a little on the deeper end of tenor. 

History: Born in 1921, James or as he went by back then, Alexander, appeared to be a normal boy. Well except for the fact that he occasionally had copper scales that coated his arms, legs and torso and large leathery wings growing out of his back. His first cycle saw him excelling in classes especially mathematics and English before beginning to learning carpentry as a career shortly after graduating from high school in 1939. When the United States joined WW2, He quickly enlisted and was trained in time to be sent to the Italian Front where he quickly climbed the ranks to Staff Sergeant for acts of Valor. 

In time, Alexander’s squad was relocated to the UK awaiting the invasion of Normandy Beach. It was a nerve racking experience and the wait was terrible too. Landing on Gold Beach was awful, terrifying and would give him nightmares for years to come. The salt in the air. The sound of 155mm cannons pounding the surf and ships around him. The sound of machine guns firing. As the ramp dropped the coppery smell of blood filled the air as people dropped dead. Crawling up the sand, ducking behind tank barricades and into craters from the shelling. It was a harrowing day and he nearly got killed numerous times. Only luck saved him in his mind. As they pushed in on the Western Front, a few dozen miles outside of Paris, tragedy struck out at Alexander as a grenade tore his left leg apart just above the knee. 

The mission was a joint operation with a local French Resistance Cell to capture an important town on the way into Paris, as well as gather any intel that might be left behind. Involved with the group were eight individuals in the know about supernatural beings, including an elf, an angel, and a shifter. The mission was a failure, enemy reinforcements had arrived to hold the town and in the chaos Alexander got separated from his unit and was running with the shifter and elf. In the fighting a grenade was tossed into the group, and Alex pushed the others away and was caught in the blast. His left leg was heavily injured and he had caught shrapnel across his body. The Shifter and Elf saw the blue blood of their ally and immediately made a tourniquet to stem the flow of blood. They began carrying him to the car they had stolen and parked outside of the town. They drove to their village where a healer experienced with dealing with supernatural beings lived. It was a struggle to save his life and he fought every hour of every day for the next week. His left leg was removed just above the knee and he would carry scars all across his body for the rest of that life.

Luck again saved his life, but he was upset. Upon becoming stable enough about four days later, they returned him to his regiment. He was going to be sent home, and would be leaving his those he considered brothers to finish the mission. And as expected, the Colonel he was working with thanked him for everything he had done and that he would be going home with an honourable discharge. The ride home was full of regrets and pain. 

Getting home was easy, settling back in however was a different story. He was struggling to find work with his mobility issues and fell back on what he started to learn before joining the army, carpentry. He started by building himself a simple prosthetic leg to improve his ability to get from one place to another. Soon he was working towards finishing his apprenticeship with a respected teacher and began to work for himself. It wasn’t always easy, however he made enough money to own a respectable sized house. Ladies weren’t exactly lining up to date the scarred warrior, but he found a few who seemed to try and catch his attention. A small corner of his mind laughed at the idea of dating any of these mundane individual.

As he reached his fifties for the first time, Alexander moved closer to a place he felt at home, the magical community of Nowhere. He wasn’t about to die, and start his next cycle just yet, but he wanted to have plans and a support system in place. It was where his older sister was and she was getting older, and he wanted to be there for when she started her second cycle. He knew he was wearing a bit thin, especially with how he kept trying to push himself and hoped he could last until after his sister was old enough to hold down a job and take care of him when his second cycle started. He had invested wisely though and they wouldn’t hurt for money to take care of each other. He would be a great father when he finally got a chance to have his own, after all, his sister and he had made that an agreement, to take care of each other when they started their new cycle. 

Alexander was young the first time he died, for a dragon anyway, at only the age of 71, shedding the pain of his first life in a brilliant blaze. It was April 11, 1992 and he had already told his sister the name he planned on going by the second time around, James. All the “trophies” he collected from WW2 were stored in a locked safe in the basement of the house he had “willed” to his sister. Growing up the second time was nearly as fun as the first time. As his memories started to return though so would the nightmares of what had happened. The beaches of Normandy stained red, the metallic scent of blood. On the bright side, he did great during that part of history class. He decided he wanted to help people this time, but he didn’t want to be a cop, nor did he feel he had the steady hands to be a doctor. He grew up wanting to be a firefighter and it was perfect for him in this life. When a friend growing up mentioned that he did metalwork, James got curious and began to do some reading and eventually gave it a try himself, finding some sort of affinity with it.

Family/Relationships: 
Mother: Allison Reese (Deceased) 
Father: Jacob Reese (Deceased) 
Sister: Ashley Marie Jackson (2nd Cycle age 42)

Other/Extra: Has a few (3) trophy guns from WW2 that were willed to him by “His great grandfather” A P-08 pistol, a Kar98, and a demil-ed MP-40. 

He is a protective person, especially of children and those he claims as his family. Attacking them or his honor are the quickest ways to anger him as his honor is another thing he holds in high regard. He enjoys a good laugh and being able to be his true self, with his wings, scales and tail.  When not working, he’s often in his forge which he set up in his garage, out in the park exercising, or out checking out fishing spots. He is currently returning from a trip to France, where he went and visited Normandy Beach for the first time since his first life cycle.


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