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| Name/Nicknames |
"Christopher Francis Hurk. Lotta people just call me Hurk though."
| Race |
"Werewolf. Y'think the guys would've caught on, and I think they have, but they're cool with it."
| Age |
"34."
| Appearance |
"I'm five nine, with dark woody brown hair, scruffy and messy. Light gray eyes, mostly from my turning. Skin's...normal white man colour, if a little tan. Got some callouses on my knuckles from dirty work, scar over my nose too.
Unlike the guys I work with, I prefer more casual clothing. I normally prefer wearing a turtleneck sweater most days, with jeans and work boots and full fingered gloves. Got a little brass locket my dad left me too, it's on a collar I wear around my neck. Got a little bracelet too, small thing, wooden cubes that spell my name around my right wrist."
| Personality |
"I'm an alright guy, I guess. I get very protective of my friends, especially people that have stuck by me even though they know what I really am. I like the friends I've made over the years, and I'd hate to see them leave.
I also love my good ol' fashioned rock music from, like, the 80s and 90s. I love hanging out with my friends, having a meal or a drink, long walks in the park to admire nature, um, the sound of the ocean too. If I'm on a job, I'm dedicated, although things do distract me a bit easily."
| Bio |
"I was 17 when I was turned. I was out with my father on a hunting trip when, one night, I was pounced on and mauled liberally by one of those big angry fuzz monsters. He fought it off with a silver knife, but by then I'd had the werewolf curse in my blood. He didn't care. He took care of me, locked me in a meat locker during the full moons, and when he passed away he left me with his locket with a picture of our family in it. Our mom passed on early in my life, when I was still very young. She went of breast cancer, and when she did, dad broke inside. I guess that was why he spent so much time with me.
After he went though, I kinda lost my way in life. Santa Somabra was a big city, still growing at the time, but I didn't feel any...connections with it any more. That was when I chose to enlist.
I was sent to Afghanistan on my first tour. Spent eight months there, fighting turban-headed extremists hellbent on removing the good guys from the equation over there. And every month, for one night I had to go AWOL because of my curse. Back then, it wasn't much of a problem; people didn't ever think there would be werewolves in the
military, and in that warzone our rest was rightfully given. No one paid any mind if a soldier disappeared in the night, as long as they were back in their beds by morning. That's what I did, and I lasted my whole deployment surviving with my curse.
It was during my third tour in the Afghan provinces that I met Anthony Alonzo. Awesome guy, first real best friend I ever had, and the first man I told about my curse. He didn't mind at all, as long as it didn't bother anyone or kill any of our own men. After that tour was over, I'd spent about five years in total in Afghanistan, and frankly I was aching to go home. With Alonzo in tow, of course. By then we were...something more. Not sure how much you're gonna judge me about that, but Alonzo and I were together when we got back to Santa Somabra. He moved in with me and stayed with me the whole time.
Looking for work after my five years of war was hard, especially with the stress and twitchy fingers from all the fighting I had to do. Thankfully, Alonzo knew a guy who knew a guy who hooked us up with the Martovannis as guards. We were given a nice, hefty pay packet every month to wander around their opulent mansion, day or night, or to stand at the gate to receive visitors. Me and him, we did that for a few more years, thought I'd be stuck as one of them for life. Wasn't the case though. That was around the time we met Andy DiMaggio. Scary bastard, for a zombie. Me and Alonzo, we helped the guy out. Brought power back to the city, found his old friend too. Then we were given the task to help them with their werewolf problem.
Now, the Hunters. Those guys, I didn't care for, even with my own curse. That night, even as I was struggling to hold back my curse, I went out with the boys one last time.
That was when my lover died. Sacrificed himself to save the rest of us from a gruesome, horrible death.
After that night, I felt like dying . I was broken inside, without a reason to continue living. Then I saw that Andy and his friend Benjamin had separated from Bloodbloom after their "contract" was done. They'd gotten paid in full, then made their own bodyguard agency, whole nine yards. They started recruiting some of the better operators and free-lancers in Santa Somabra, and me with nothing better to do with my life, decided to join them for one last hurrah."
| Other |
"I'm the most modern of the regular bunch, so I happen to have and use some modern weapons. Beretta M9 pistol, was my sidearm in the army and it's served me ever faithfully since. Got myself an AR15 too, the commercialised one since American gun laws prohibit civilians from owning automatic firearms. Also have a Taurus revolver, part of the "service issue" that came with working for the Boys."
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