John Taylor
Wendigo
| Name |Jonathan Sage Taylor
| Date of Birth |October 30th, 1993
| Gender |Male
| Sexuality |Bisexual, with more experience on the female side
| Occupation |Tattoo Artist
| In-Depth Appearance |Really, really tall. Around six foot six but too thin, almost unhealthily so. John carries himself like an old junker would. Slow, tired, and a little broken. His shoulders sag, he has some heavy bags under his eyes, and he’s always a little slow to react, like there is something preoccupying his mind. His style can be broken down into two categories, work and home. Work clothes consists of various types of t-shirts, dark jeans of various wear and tear, and flannel. Home clothes are sweat pants, gym shorts, and big fluffy sweaters. As a tattoo artist he has some ink, most prominently his sleeves, which are matching deer skulls starting at the mid-bicep. Ink bleeds down the eye sockets and become a writhing mass of solid black tentacles. When John speaks you can hear that his voice is a little ragged, mostly from alcohol but bad sleeping habits are also a contributing factor. One will notice that he seems to carry the smell of cigarettes with him wherever he goes.
| Personality |♦ Grounded ♦ Friendly ♦ Tired ♦ Sad ♦
Let’s start with the good aye? John is not a very difficult man to figure out, minus the whole teeter totter of cannibalistic rampage and normal human being that is. John isn’t one to flaunt anything and prefers to stick to the modest things in life; money stays in the bank account, clothes are simple and cheap, car is a piece of shit but can get him to point A to B. The only exceptions to this level headedness is his love for pork and his passion for art, specifically body ink but he can and does appreciate other mediums. It’s usually a shock to the people who know him to see the normally docile John explode when he sees that “metaphorical art shit” like the blank white wall.
Now let’s get into the not so great bits. For all his “straight man” mannerisms and usually docile dependency, John is a very tired, very worn down person. Fighting off constant cannibalistic cravings, an intense hunger, and an angry, spiteful spirit living in the back of his head has left John with very little energy to deal with other people’s shit. So instead of fighting or arguing he would rather just take it and move on, “What’s one more pebble for the pile?” As he would say. This take it and roll attitude paints him in an unflattering light, with many people dismissing him as a pushover. Unfortunately, all his wear and tear has also given him very little patience for those who are rude and mean, usually met with a very stern “Fuck. Off.” and a death glare that could put fear into the devil himself.
In the end, John just wants everything to be nice and quiet. With how everything is going however, it doesn’t look like things are going to go his way again.
| Likes & Dislikes |✔ His art
✔ Big puffy sweaters
✔ Sweets; chocolates, anything out of a bakery, candies, the works
✔ His two poisons, whiskey and menthols
✔ Stupid jokes/puns
✔ Pork, in all it’s forms
✔ Low maintenance, in both people and in life
✘ Horror movies, doesn’t like being scared and the gorier ones make him hungry
✘ Bad tattoo’s
✘ People who disrespect art and artists
✘ Romantic comedies
✘ Surprises
✘ High class anything; the people are jerks, the drinks are weak, and the food is small
✘ Vegetables, they are just gross
| History |John’s story isn’t a very interesting one up until he got possessed, so we’ll start from there. It began with a camping trip five years ago, just him and a friend in the canadian wilderness. Everything began all right, sure it was cold but the two of them had seen worse and so the pair just did their thing. Star gazing, ice fishing, hiking, and all that jazz was done before it happened. The pair were hunkering down on an especially cold night when John became possessed.
I’m going to spare the details but when John awoke from the spiritual fight for dominance that ensued in his head, the friend was dead. The poor hunk of a bastard was ripped apart and the last thing that went through his head was that it was his best friend doing the deed. John doesn’t camp anymore.
The incident was called an “animal attack” but John knew, and he couldn’t live with himself. So he so he packed a bag, sold everything else, and left. The process of becoming a British citizen wasn’t the most streamlined but after it was all said and done, he could start again. So here he has been, picking up small time jobs and building up his reputation within his industry before finding himself here, in the middle of a god damn upheaval. Can’t a man get a break indeed.
| Family |Severed all ties with his family. For all they know he just up and left one day.
| Strengths |- Willpower
- Transparency
- Honesty
- A bit of a doormat
- Exhausted, physically and emotionally
- Very little patience for jerks
| Theme Song || House Number |I’ll shack up with anyone in Faraday Heights
| Extra Information |Has a moderate reputation within the tattoo industry, enough to be recognized but not enough to be all that noticed.
