Infinite Cosmos

✨Beyond The Veil✨

Color code 766359
Location: Mainly The Underground, but some nondescript locations before that
Speaking with: Person on the other side of the phone
Interacting with: Concert goers and venue workers generally

^{__________________________________________________________}

THUD

Lucian pulled the door to his purposely nondescript, slightly worn, 2005 Toyota Camry, painted black with slightly tinted windows. The rain continued to patter against the vehicle. Even though the exterior is showing it's age, the interior was kept spotless, even without the scent of burnt cigarettes as Lucian brought one to his lips. With the cigarette unlit, he reached inside his kutte, brought out the old flip phone and began to dial...



"Yes. It's me. I need to call a cab for two. Midnight Express, if you know what I mean. "
"Yes, I'm still..."
"Now why would you ask that, Charlie?"
"Yes, I'll have..."
"See you, Charlie."


The phone call ends. Lucian inspects his clothing, making sure there were no bloodstains on him. He pulls his shirt up and takes a long, hard, sniff, trying to pick up any stray scents that didn't belong on him. He needed his hands clean of what he just did. A slip up like that cannot go unpunished. They knew better. Checking his watch, it was still early enough for him to head home and change before going to the concert, as long as his 'friend' got here fast enough. The rain was threatening to wash out all the blood from the asphalt and carry it to unwanted places. Lucian tried his best to keep the scene...tidy. The act was not necessarily quick, nor painless. But it was deemed efficient enough for Lucian's standards...

About 20 minutes after the call, a white, unmarked, refrigerated Sprinter van pulled up. Lucian checked his rear-view mirror and noticed a familiar figure wearing a black trilby. The man was followed up two very large individuals wearing full-bodied lab suits with neoprene gloves and boots, carrying various cleaning implements.

"Charlie."
"Mr. Shelby."

Lucian reached into his kutte, pulling out two poker cards with a golden border and handed them to the man wearing the trilby.

"Does this mean you're back doing the handy work yourself, Mr. Shelby?"
"I never stopped. Be seeing you, Charlie."

The man tipped his trilby softly as Lucian stepped back in his car and drove off. During his drive, he called into The Underground, the sound of music, crowd and revelry filled his speaker.

"Who have you seen?"
"Just about everyone. Even the loners. Dom. Kessler, Luther, Vex, Casey..."
"Backdoor. I need a booth in the upper area."
"Ooo...They're tak-"
"Clear one out. Quietly.
"It's gonna cos-"

Lucian hung up before the man at the venue finished his words. Moments later, he arrived, just as he said he would. He made eye contact with the man standing by the backdoor and with that small acknowledgement, the man opened the door and allowed Lucian in. Reflexively, he slid his hand into the inner pocket of his kutte, making sure the flip phone is silenced and secure before walking through a heavy metal door, the dull thudding of bass drums bumping just beyond where Luican stood.

As soon as the door opened, Lucian was flooded with a mix of various senses. Sounds, colors, sights, scents, everything hit him at once. He softly closed his eyes, allowing his brain to process all the information. The speakers belting out sounds, the performers on stage doing their thing. The crowd in the pit shambling like mindless puppets to the music. Sweat, alcohol, perfume, pheromones. An intoxicating mix that tugged at Lucian's based desires. He grinned to himself slightly, one canine fang showing slightly. As calm as he wanted to remain, his body reacted naturally to the chemical mixture that presented itself to him. In the midst of deciphering all the information and walking towards a recently emptied booth, Lucian made mental notes of where people are. Dom and Vex are near the dance floor. Kessler and Casey are firmly in the mix. Luther is near the bar. Very good.

"Mr. Shelby. Welcome. Enjoying your evening?
"Murphy."

Lucian said coldly as he slid a poker card with the shimming gold border to the man. The man giddily pocketed the card and scuttled off. Lucian made eye contact with a bottle service girl, porcelain skin shimmering with the faintest hint of sweat and make up.

"What are we drinkin, honey?
"Gin. Hendricks"
"Certainly."

Voice dipped in honey and coated with gunpowder. This one would be fun to break, Lucian thought. He reached into his kutte once again, taking out a small stack of cash. He slipped the bills between his thumb and index finger, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on the girl.

"Keep the rest, you've had a long night, I'm sure."

Lucian said as he nonchalantly placed no less than five bills into the girl's palm, pressing in with some force before allowing his fingers to trail off.

"It's Yelena."

The girl said as she stood with a sultry smile and sauntered away. Lucian leaned back in his booth, allowing the atmosphere of the venue provide him with an imperfect camouflage. Lighting a cigarette, he took a long drag and observed the scene from his perch, plotting his next move...

✨Beyond The Veil✨

Flashback, before the official time skip

Color code 766359
Location: His apartment Time: Night time, after he left Church
Speaking with: Person on the other side of the phone
Interacting with: Random groupie and person on the other side of the phone

^{__________________________________________________________}

Lucian stirred. The faint scent of sweat and sex lingered around him. He looked to his left and drew in a breath through his nostrils. Exhaling, he pinched then swiped across his nose with his index finger. The girl, all procelain-skinned and feminine, let out a small, drowsy moan as she turned and tugged at the comforter. Lucian sat up, reaching for the pack of Marlboro Reds, tapped the butt of the carton before drawing a filtered cigarette out with his lips. Peering over his shoulders at the 'battlefield', he let out a small "Tsk" before standing up and standing by the window. Halcyon buzzed below his high rise apartment. People looked like ants, cars looked like little rectangles of light, all just whizzing by.

Walking towards his kitchen table, where a stray lighter laid motionless, he spots a bottle of London Dry Gin. He's heard it somewhere, that gin, unlike other spirits, was distilled "for the eradication of seemingly incurable sadness." "Ain't that the fucking truth..." He mumbled under his breath. As he sat down, striking the lighter and bringing the flame to his cigarette, he reached for the neck of the liquor bottle with his free hand. Haphazardly tossing the lighter back onto the table, he swirled the clear liquid around the bottle before uncorking it with a satisfying pop . The scent of botanical flooded his nostrils, followed by the 'medicinal' scent of ethanol. Taking a swig from the bottle, he set the bottle down and picked up his phone.

- One New Message -
- Three Missed Calls -

Clicking open the text message first...

- I missed you baby. Where have you been? -

From a number without a name. These were popping up way too often. Luican ought to really think about settling down. Get himself an old lady, and really make good on his career...

"Fuck that."

Clicking open the missed calls

Again, numbers without a name. But, this time, he recognized them. A quiet anger rose up inside him. They knew better. They know better. Setting his phone down on the table, he reached in to his kutte, draped over a chair, and took out another phone.

No missed calls. No messages.

Walking towards a set of sliding glass doors, he looked at his bed once more. The girl, fully of red bite marks and surrounded by small spots of blood on the linen, was still fast asleep. Without a second thought, he opened the door to his balcony and stepped out.



"Yeah. What was so urgent that you..."
"What?"
"I don't give a fuck. You do not contact..."
"No. That doesn't matter."
"No. Go tomorrow, personally and collect it."
"Yes, that. Do that. Then, you bring..."
"I need it all. You know why."
"Nah. Call Leslie at Marshall for that."
"Remember, we have a shipment of..."
"Yes. From Chihara and Hammer. Make sure you..."
"Oh, and tell Jim to call me."
"Yes, from fucking Rothschild's."
"One last thing. You. Do. Not..."

The phone call ends. He snuffs out the spent cigarette and takes one last look over his balcony. Neon lights, tires, and the wind.

✨Beyond The Veil✨

Color code 766359
Location: The Cracked Fang Time: Dusk
Speaking with: The Pack
Interacting with: @Oso Dom @deegee Kessler

^{__________________________________________________________}

Lucian sat quietly as Dom gave his closing remarks. Watching the gathered mass disburse, Lucian offered those that walked close enough to him a nod. A silent acknowledgement.

The room, still warm and humid with body heat, was now essentially empty. The three of them remained. Lucian's mind was blank, repeating the conversation he had with Hollow and Cinnamon in his mind, trying to pick up any morsel of information that he can glean from it. The conversation itself was very, very light. It made sense. The situation was so fresh, not many people knew of what happened. And if the wardens were in on it, Hollow certainly would not have divulged that information, lest incurring Lucian's wrath where he sat.

"Yeah. Just us now..." Lucian said, as he softly tossed a rag at Dom's hand, for him to do what he could to clean up the wound. A relatively empty gesture, as surely that wound would heal just fine, like the many others all of them have suffered along the way. "What I wanted to say before was that after the warehouse, I met up with Hollow. I wanted to see what he knew. And sure enough, the fuck told me next to nothing other than there hasn't been any whisperings of the event amongst the Wardens... I wanted to tug on whatever thread, whatever lead I may possibly have. Thus far, nothing we don't already know..."

Looking over towards Kessler, Lucian pondered what Dom said about being Second. Could he fill the show of someone like Logan Delaney? Could he be what Dom needs not only now, but also into the future? He did not doubt Kessler's capabilities. But, even amongst the wolves, Kessler's temper may not be the most ideal for what they need right now. Sure, there will be a need for it, but being the representation of blind fury is easy. Anyone can be angry and lash out. But as Dom said, he needed someone loyal enough, for that he does not doubt neither himself nor Kessler. Dom needs someone mean enough to scare the young ones into behaving. The approaches Kessler and Lucian would take would be...quite opposite, but both would be effective.

" Kessler. I think you and I would both agree that we're both very capable. This is just my opinion however. Dom. You're right. Filling the void Logan left would be a monumental ask. Thus, as much as I hate to keep one more task on your very full plate, I think you should decide. Unless, Kessler, you have a convincing case of why you should have that spot. Speak it and I will listen..."

✨Beyond The Veil✨

Color code 766359
Location: The Cracked Fang Time: Dusk
Speaking with: The Pack
Interacting with: @Oso Dom

^{__________________________________________________________}

Lucian drew in a breath and exhaled as the pack filtered in. Some held nervous faces, some clueless. There hasn't been a gathering like, where every member was present, in...forever. Usually, it is just the shotcallers and ones that needed to be around called into Church. This was obviously different.

This was war.

Dom brought out the old wooden box out. Lucian knew what was in there. Knew what it meant. The gavel. A barbaric thing. Symbolic, savage, yet elegantly made. Pure silver. A symbol of...whatever the current pack leader needs it to be. Solidarity perhaps. Now more than ever, Lucian assumed. Even Lucian, a seasoned member of the pack, shrugged with a sense of uneasiness when the metallic clang rang out as Dom pounded the gavel. Lucian paid no mind to the searing sound that came from Dom holding silver. He knows what this all means. Dom sure as hell does too.

Looking down at the flat surface of the table that they all sat at now, and as Dom began to speak, Lucian reached his right hand beneath the tabletop and brought out an old bowie knife. The small hand guard, handle, and pommel all looks worn, but the blade held a devilish sheen. Like some meticulously takes care of it. Holding the knife, and with the pommel resting against his forehead, Lucian sat and listened to Dom. Each word from his leader carried unseen weight. Each word cut.

Damn right it was a message. A message that will be returned in kind, Lucian thought.

As Dom finished speaking, Lucian shot him a look. Taking the knife away from his forehead, he gently tapped the point of the blade against the table. "Yeah, Dom. I need a word with you, alone." In the same breath, he looked up to the gathered mass and continued "But before that... The rest of you. Some of you know me, some of you don't. That doesn't matter right now. What I need you to know is this... These motherfuckers Lucian said through gritted teeth and emotionless face that somehow also portrayed seething fury "These motherfuckers. I don't know and I don't care where they're from. Wherever that is, they forgot to teach'em to never mess with a man's family... They crossed a line. The fuckers responsible. You find them. Bring them here. And you watch. And you learn what family means. Youngbloods, don't travel alone. There is real strength in numbers. The rest of you ladies and gentleman, you know what this is, what this means. You don't need to hear me blabber..."

Lucian leaned back, sheathing his blade and waited to see if anyone else spoke up.

If so, Lucian would give them his undivided attention.
If not, the hunt is on.

✨Beyond The Veil✨

Color code 766359
Location: The Cracked Fang Time: Dusk
Speaking with: NPCs around the bar/Crack Fang
Interacting with: @Oso Dom

^{__________________________________________________________}

Rumbles

Lucian brought his bike to a screeching halt, right outside the Cracked Fang. Sure, the lot was less busy than usual, especially given the day of the night. But there is and has always been a small cluster of parking spaces, not specially marked, but understood to be 'Members Only' so to speak. The locals don't park there, and the bar will usually send someone out to move a bike or a car that erroneously ends up in one of the spots.

There was a bike already in a spot. Dom's bike. Lucian supposed that that is how it should be. Pack Leader, already in the building, rather for the Pre-Hunt gathering. Lucian made his way in, half-smoked cigarette hanging loosely in his lips. The gathered mass steered clear of Lucian, either recognizing his kutte, or following the rest of the crowd and just parting a path. Lucian walked up to the bar, and the bartender approached. "He in there?" The bartender nodded and Lucian replied in the same manner. "Alright then." Lucian snapped his fingers and reached his hand out. The bartender, without missing a beat, reached beneath the counter and brought out a bottle of Glenlivet 18 years. The bottle itself was about three quarters full. Reserved only for Church or special occasions. "Hey thanks. I'm sure you know what's going on. You can keep the bar open, but the rest of the building is off limits. As per usual. Thanks. He snuffed out his cigarette and gave the bartender a swift nod before making his way towards where Dom currently sits.

As he made his way down the dimly lit hallway, filled to the brim with the Pack's history. Old photos, patina'd kuttes, all things that spoke volumes to anyone that cared about their history. Each item means something to the Pack. A piece of history, a moment in time. As he made his way to the wooden doors at the end of the hall, he took a brief moment to pause and drew in a deep breath.

Church.

Everything is finally starting to feel real. Logan Delaney is really dead. His murderers are really still out there, drawing breath and no doubt enjoying whatever payments they received for committing what will be the last criminal act of their pathetic lives. Dom, Lucian, Kessler, and everyone else in the pack will make damn sure of that.

Pushing through the doors, Lucian confirmed what he had already asked the bartender upstairs that Dom was the only one there at that moment. Lucian stepped in and let the silence wash over him. Lucian circled the table, from his right and towards where there will now be an empty seat. When he reached where Logan would usually sit, he placed the bottle of liquor on the table directly in front of the seat with his left and held on to the top of the chair with his right. Lucian then moved towards Dom, plating a brotherly kiss at the top of his crown before settling into his seat, second one away from the top spot, to Dom's left.

✨Beyond The Veil✨

Color code 766359
Location: Abandon Warehouse Time: Dusk
Speaking with: @Oso Dom @deegee Kessler

^{__________________________________________________________}

Church. So poetic. So...ironic. Lucian agreed. Anyone who is a part of the Iron Fangs, or wishes to be, needs to see this. They need to know what the pack is all about. Sure, the pack is just a group of misfits, scoundrels and miscreants. But it's also family. When someone punches your brother or sister, you punch them back first and ask questions second.

Let alone killing one of your own.

Lucian looked to Kessler, mind already revving at a thousand miles per hour. "Hey bro, take him somewhere peaceful. Like Dom said. Somewhere where the sun hits first. I'll start calling in the pack. I'll have them all gather for church. Dom, there is someone I need to see. I need to know. I'll be back in time for Church. Don't worry, I'll have a couple of newbloods with me. You two, get home safe. Whoever did this. They will strike again. And if they were bold enough to go after Logan, there ain't no telling who they're after next. I'm headed to the Bite, just in case I don't come home..."

He didn't ask if Kessler can be trusted to get this done. He knows that Kessler can do this. There was no need to ask for trust. As for himself, there was an air of heaviness to his last words. The Velvet Bite, as welcoming as they are to the different factions, has always been murky ground even before this major shakeup. But, Lucian didn't care at this point. He was already on the hunt, trying to sniff out even the faintest trail. Anything that can lead the pack to finding whoever, or whatever, commit this atrocity.

With that, Lucian stepped off. The sound of his boots grinding into concrete was followed by a low, throaty rumble of his bike engine, then by the sound of it's exhaust as Lucian rode off into the night.

✨Beyond The Veil✨

Color code 766359
Location: Abandon Warehouse Time: Dusk
Speaking with: @Oso DomMentions: @deegee Kessler

^{__________________________________________________________}

The rain letting up was a nice touch, a bit poetic perhaps. Lucian flung out the kickstand to his bike, and approached Dom. Standing under the dim light of the encroaching night, there was a quiet menace to his Alpha. Something that needed no words. As Lucian walked, the soft crunch of gravel echoed more than it should. Lucian turned and noticed his pack-brother Kessler approaching as well. Lucian gave him a wordless acknowledgement, a simple but effective greeting.

As he handed the bottle of blended scotch to Dom, Lucian knew things were going to be bad. From the way the newblood sounded on her phone call to him, to how Dom torn into the bottle. Lucian drew in a deep breath and followed Dominic into the warehouse. The creak of the door, the must of the stale air mixing with the freshness of rain and the swaying of the old warehouse lightbulb all made for a dramatic set up to a tragic scene.

It was Logan Delaney. Or what was left of the man. Beaten, mangled, mutilated, among a bevy of words that could be used to describe the image that was seared into Lucian's mind. Lucian's left eye twitched. Was it anger? Was is sorrow? He didn't know himself. In front of him was the former second-in-command of the pack, the big brother everyone could rely on. A tough son-of-a-bitch, no less. "Made you pay for it, didn't they, D." 'D' was what Lucian would call Logan, in informal situations only of course. "You tough old fuck. Goddammit. Couldn't go cleanly and just had to leave a mess for us to clean up. Fucking mongrel bastard." None of these words were spoken loudly. None of these words were spoken out of insult. It was just a way Lucian's subconscious is using to shield himself from lashing out, from charging straight back out there and burning Halcyon down to find the rats that did this to Logan 'Red Right Hand" Delaney.

Lucian watched quietly as Dominic poured one out for their fallen brother, as a last rite. Blinking a few times and turning to cast a glance at Kessler, Lucian snatched the bottle from Dominic. Studying the bottle in his grip for a brief moment, he did exactly as Dominic did and pour a line onto the concrete next to the lifeless body of his pack-brother before taking a long, hard, swig from the bottle himself. Thrusting the bottle into the clutches of Kessler, he turned and walked up the the body and pulled out two wrapped cigars from the inside-pocket of his kutte. "For the road, fresh shipment for the pack. See you around, old man." Tucking the cigars neatly into the pocket of Logan's kutte, Lucian stood back up and face the door.

Speaking with Dominic now, "Where are we burying him? On a hill where there is lot of sun? The quicker we get this done, the quicker I can get to work... The next few words to come from Lucian were colder than usual. A low, raspy growl behind his words. A mix of emotions ran hot through him right now. A chemical mixture so volatile it might just spontaneously burst into flames. "Because you're right. The hunt's on, brother. Lucian said while having his head turned ever so slightly to his right to address Dominic.

✨Beyond The Veil✨

Color code 766359
Location: Bloodmarket Row then Abandon Warehouse Time: Just before sunset into dusk
Speaking with: Randoms mostly. Mentions: @Oso Dom

^{__________________________________________________________}

"Nah nah nah, mate, there is just no way. Fuck off with that price. I thought we were here to make a deal!" Lucian said, in a calm, raspy voice. The boxes stacked haphazardly behind the man sitting across from him. "You know how hard I had to work to get all these? Directly from Cuba no less! The fucking embargo, the fucking tariffs, fighting the Coastguard. All that costs money man. Lost a few good men doing all that too! The price is to compensate their mothers, for a son lost. You wouldn't say no to that, would ya? Even you wolves had mothers, right? The stubby, gruff man said.

The air around the table shifted slightly. The man's goons patted slightly to their left and right, showing their unease at what their boss just said. Especially considering where they were. One of them, out of the three, even had the audacity to graze his palm over the pistol tucked away in his waistband. Just like the two-bit gangster wannabe he is...

Lucian blinked slowly, facial expression unchanging. A small, guttural growl did escape his throat. "Bartholomew. Please have care of what you speak...My boys here, they're not as...controlled... as myself... The man sitting acrossing would look up and see the two newbloods standing behind Lucian, with their kuttes on, letting out a slight snarl with a twitch of their cheeks. "I will accept a 50% discount on the previously agreed upon price for your...indiscretions... Lucian extended a hand across the table, claws retracting back under his nail bed as he did so. "F-fine...But we need to talk about a new price..." the man said, amidst a swallow of saliva. Lucian grasped the man's hand firmly and shook it. "Certainly. We can do that. Let me know when you'd like to speak again... His icy blue gaze never leave the man's own.

Releasing the now-sweaty hand, Lucian turned to the two newbloods behind him "Boys, check the boxes, get our labels on them, and get them back to the Cracked Fang." The newbloods got to work, doing what Lucian told them to. A low chime rang out from Lucian's pocket and he picks up the call...

"Yeah. What? What? Slow down. Where? Ok. Tell him I'll be right there. Turning to the barkeep, Lucian barked out, perhaps more harshly than he would normally "Yeah. Hey! Give me a fresh bottle of Johnnie Walker Red. I'll come settle the price later! The barkeep hesitantly handed Lucian the unopened bottle of blended scotch. Lucian whirled around to face the newbloods and the black market trader "Boys, crack one of the boxes open for me then get the rest box to the Fang. On the double. Barty, we'll talk. Lucian swiped a few brown, tubular items from one of the cracked boxes and gave both of the newbloods a quick pat on the shoulder.

With that, he stormed out of the dingy bar, and approached his Triumph Rocket Storm, with the Iron's symbol hand-painted onto the chassis. Foregoing his helmet, as he typically does, he turned the machine over and it roared to life obediently. With one twist of the throttle, Lucian sped off into the rain, scotch bottle in hand.

Upon arrival, Lucian parked his motorcycle as quickly but safely as he can and hopped off. Shaking off some rain from his hair, he walked towards Dominic, gripping the bottle of scotch...

✨Beyond The Veil✨

Lucian 'Lukas' Shelby

__________________________________________________________ Basic Information __________________________________________________________ • Name | Lucian Shelby • Nickname(s) | Lukas, Claws, 'The Merciless', 'The Bag Man' • Age | Appears to be in his early 20s • Gender | Male • Birthday | Feb 17th • Race | Pureblood Lycan • Rank/Status | - Appearance __________________________________________________________ [+] • Height | 6'5" • Build | Athletic, broad-shouldered, well-defined muscles from training, fighting and general Lycan physiology • Eye Color | Icy Blue • Hair Color & Style | black, with a textured crop with a disconnected undercut - 'Peaky Blinders cut' • Skin Tone | Sun-kissed • Notable Marks | Numerous scars from previous fights, some have very notable scar tissue while others look old and is the same color as his skin at this point. Numerous tattoos, mainly on his arms and back • Typical Clothing Style | Dark toned clothing. Generally t-shirt and jeans. Though, he has been known to dress up for special events and have been commented to 'clean up well' Example • Aura/First Impression | Quiet, measured, reserved, but with a subtle rage and wildness. This has been reined in compared to his 'younger' years. • Voice | Low, baritone, soft but not without a sense of harshness needed to survive the streets Relationships __________________________________________________________ [+] • Openness to Friendship (1-5) | 5 • Openness to Romance (1-5) | 3 • Romantic Preferences | Let's see how this plays out • Current Romantic Interests | None • View on Forbidden Relationships | It's fine • Biggest Turn-ons | ✦ Loyalty ✦ Sass ✦ Independence • Biggest Turn-offs | ✦ Clinginess ✦ Deceitfulness ✦ Someone that disapproves of what he does • Known Friends | He has many acquaintances, but he only considered Dominic Blackmoor as his friend • Known Enemies | Those who would do harm to his pack • Known Family | Dominic Blackmoor, loosely

Psychology ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ • Hobbies/Interests | ✦ People-watching ✦ Cooking ✦ Training • Likes | ✦ Live Music - Specifically Jazz ✦ Fine Whiskey ✦ Classic Car • Dislikes | ✦ Disloyalty ✦ Over - Or - Under seasoned foods ✦ Newly turned vampires • Fears | ✦ Fae Magic ✦ Being betrayed or left behind by the pack ✦ Losing control or becoming his former self • Habits | ✦ He will sort of pinch his right index finger and thumb together under his lower lip when in thought or contemplation ✦ When annoyed, he will crook his lips up just slightly on the right side and suck a small, sharp breath though his teeth and make a 'tsk' sound ✦ He will take on an even more sullen appearance when angered • Vices | ✦ Whiskey ✦ Fast cars ✦ A cigar Core Motivation Redemption above all. He spent decades of his life being a lone wolf, doing whatever needed done to survive. He wants to redeem himself to a pack, to show that he can exist within the right structures. He wants to right wrongs. He is not above utilizing his former connections to achieving his newfound purpose Personality Overview Lukas is quiet, reserved and measured. He was not always this way. In his younger years, he was rash, quick to violence and isn't above dirty tactics. He essentially used to behave like a low level street thug, because that is what he was. As he grew older, and became more integrated into the pack, he learned that he does not have to always outwardly show his intentions, using intimidation tactics or resort to violence to achieve his goals. He isn't so serious that he cannot find his humor. He still enjoys a good joke and still likes to have a good time. Where he used to be boisterous, he is now measured. Where he would have resorted to violence, he will now save that as the last option.

Background ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ • Current Occupation | Part Hunter - Part Warrior. He does Dom would ask him to do • Level of Schooling | Minimal, but the streets taught him how to survive • Past Occupations | Black market savant • Socioeconomic Status | Middle-Class? If such a thing exists within a pack • History Summary | Lucian was born into a prominent Lycan family, local to Halcyon. Sure, there were rumblings about how his family accumulated their wealth and status, that they made deals with the fae to propel themselves forward, ahead of their peers. Lucian didn't care. He knew that his family loved each other, and they had everything they needed as their own pack. In other senses, Lucian's childhood was as normal as any lycan child can be. He attended the local school, did decent. Played sports with his peers, did pretty well. Attended social gatherings with his peers, and aside from a few scraps, did ok. That's it. He enjoyed a fairly normal early stage of life, by lycan standards. Then. One day, he came home to the surprise of his parents and saw that they had a guest over. His mother ushered him into his room, and would not answer any questions he had regarding the meeting. Of course, Lucian got curious and pressed his ears to the door as hard as he could to glean as much information as he could on the conversation. "Sure, we will..." "But that's..." "How will..." "Yes, you can...." "But, please..." "I don't...." All he got were fragments, and they did not sound good. Then he heard his name called, by a voice that sounded both like and unlike his mothers. It was as if her voice was filtered through a wet bath towel. Without hesitation, he pushed his bedroom door open and rushed down the stairs. The scene in front of him was...gruesome... He saw his mother dead on the ground, a jagged, uneven, cut to her throat and her blood smeared around her, showing that the cut was certainly not clean and she struggled with her dying breath. His father was in arguably worse shape. He was transformed into his full Lycan form, but his eyes were glazed over, losing their usual luster. The strange man from before had a silver chain wrapped around his father's neck, and the smell of burning flesh emanated where his father's neck met the metal. His father was much larger than he usually was, being transformed, but still not big enough for another adult to be standing on top of him. However, the strange man seemed like he was floating above his father, chain in hand and a grotesque smile on his face. With the same smile, the strange man took out several vials from his coat. Each vial held a silver-y liquid but each tinged with different colors. Methodically, he jammed each vial into seemingly random spots on his father's body. With each vial, his father's form became more and more bloated and twisted. The sound of flesh rending and bone crunching will never be erased from Lucian's mind for as long as he shall live. Finally, with the last vial, the strange man gave the now distorted body of Lucian's father a jerk and a twist so that the father and son would come face to face. Lucian swears that he saw a singular tear fall from his father's face. With the same sadistic face that he had on the whole time, the strange man gave the silver chains a forceful tug and severed the head of the malformed wolf in the most twisted manner. Thunk Lucian had fallen on his behind long ago. He wasn't sure if the sound came from the strange man leaping down from where he stood of his father's distorted head hitting the floor. Lucian began to crawl towards the lifeless bodies of his parents, too stunned to even feel the rage boiling within him. The strange man approached him and lithely bent down. "The faes sends our regards..." Was all Lucian hear before he felt a searing pain drag across his back. The pain broke him from his stupor and allowed the rage to take over. However, with inhuman speed, the strange man had faded into the mist, leaving a broken Lucian to rampage through his broken home and the streets around him. Lucian blinked, and tried to get a sense of his bearings. His clothes are bloodied and torn, and he was not home anymore. He searched his memories and all he found was his father's distorted form and his mother's slit throat. He stumbled to his feet, using the grimy wall next to him for support and took a few steps before falling to his knees again. Some hoodlums in the area approached him, whispering and chatting among themselves. He was still in the Lycan-dominated part of town, and the hoodlums approached cautiously. Lucian flashed his claws, and the hoodlums did the same. They found, Lucian was beaten. But he won. The two hoodlums scrambled off. Lucian stripped the clothes off of the fallen hoodlum and changed into it. They fit surprisingly well... That's how Lucian lived for the next few years, fighting off offenders, and trading his youth and brawl for survival. After a few years, he made a reputation for himself and even had a small following of younger Lycan's around him, propping him up to some kind of tough underground guy. Then, he ventured into Bloodmarket Row after hearing about some 'cool shit' being traded there from one of his underlings. He was nearly thrown out on his first visit, not knowing the rules of the land. He was never one to just give up after a failure. So he went back, several times. He never had the kind of money to buy some of the more illicit goods available, but he was able to trade, barter and buy some of the more mundane things on offer. Small arms, blades, and other 'tools of the trade' were all common buys from Lucian. That was his ticket and 'membership pass' to the black market. He didn't know it, but the vendors took him as a fool that would pay elevated prices for their mundane goods. During this era of his life, he saw the ones around him that were part of packs. The stability they had, the support they had. He craved it. He remembers how it felt being supports by like-minded people. Sure, the people around him now are 'like-minded' but he also knew these people would leave him in the dust at their earliest convenience. Lucian's worth to them were solely about what he can provide for them and for the time being that meant the conveniences brought about by violence and intimidation. Through grapevines, he hears about the Iron Fangs. That's a name he recognizes from his life before the strange man. He starts talking to his crew about pack-life, asking about their thoughts and feelings around being in a pack. Some of the more self-interested people around him vehemently rejected pack structure, preferring to operate on their own. Lucian understood. However, some of these people openly confronted him about this, thinking that he had 'gone soft'. Lucian did not like being challenged like this. He tried his best to dissuade the dissidents with words. But, as always with Lucian, things turn violent very quickly. Depending in perspective, one can say Lucian was never calm about it. He may have been provocative even. Regardless. The issue was settled. Lucian would go meet with the Alpha of the Iron Fangs and hear his words and decide for himself what he wants. Those that wants to keep following him can do so. Those that didn't were in for a fight with Lucian, then they can decide what they want for themselves...

Race-Specific Questions ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ✦ Fill the relevant section (Vampire, Lycan, Fae, Warden) Race info ▸ Lycans ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ • Born or Turned? (Most are born. It is rare an alpha turns someone.) | Born • Reaction to Full Moon | Vastly increased bloodlust, claws will not be able to be retracted once extended, eye color changes from icy blue to a muddled blue-black as soon as he sees the full moon • Pack Loyalty Level | Loyal • Views on Mortals | He follows his pack leader and will protect the mortals when needed • Views on Vampires | Neutral, but will generally steer away from them unless a deal needs to be made • Views on Fae | Distrusts, and will avoid them as much as Lycan-ly possible Miscellaneous ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ • Theme Song | Hotel California - Eagles • Favorite Food | A good steak, cooked to the rare side of medium rare • Favorite Animal(s) | Peregrine Hawks • Favorite Music Genre | Jazz • Favorite Haunt | Changes between The Gutterbane, Bloodmarket Row and Ink and Iron • Signature Weapon | A katana, among other various small-arms • Preferred Vices | Old whiskey • Pet Peeve | Not looking at someone while talking to them • Guilty Pleasure | Having a cigar, watching the sunset

Beyond The Veil Interest Check

You have my toe dipped.