Name: Alexander Jason Reese Jr.
Age: 73 years old, but still feeling like 20. ;D
Gender: -looks down- "I’m pretty sure you can figure that out, darlin’."
Rank: Warrior
Summary: I don’t enjoy speaking of my past, but since you asked here goes...
In 1940, WW2 was in complete control. Outside the skies were the color of smoke. The Nazis’ boots thumped loudly on the roads of Europe. It didn’t take long for the Germans to come across another family to put into a concentration camp like the rest where they will eventually die of diseases, chemicals, or even starvation. People were at war as well as being captured, but some families remained hidden. Outside of London, a small family of shifters stay locked away in an underground bomb shelter where two bouncing baby boys are born. The mother with golden and long brown lochs looked to both of the newborn boys cradling in her arms. Her husband, pureblood wereling and father of the children stood at her side. The twins both had a pair of matching icy blue eyes and light brown, dirty blonde hair. She whispered. “We shall name him Vincent, and the other Alexander Jr..”
When the war ended, the twins had finally reached the age of five and were learning how to read and write. The parents could barely tell which twin was who due to their identical features and personalities, but when they turned eight, the two grew different from each other. Vincent had learned a love for teaching, where as Alexander enjoyed fighting as well as an interest for playing the guitar. Alexander and Vincent were bonded as brothers aside their differences, treating each other fairly and teaching each other things they did not know. It worked out perfectly for the parents as well as for the twins. What could go wrong?
One the night of their thirteenth birthday, things started to feel unbalanced to the twins. Their father grabbed them by the arms and pulled them to the side, away from the party. His eyes held a fear the boys had never seen, Alexander could feel his brother’s hand trembling in his grasp. The next thing they knew, they were being dragged into their mother’s car and driven off without a goodbye to their relatives. Vincent’s icy eyes grey wide as he noticed how fast their father was driving, Alexander pulled him into his embrace. “I don’t know what is going on, but you must stay calm. It’s going to be alright, brother.” He chocked out a whisper. Vincent then seemed to pull free of his grasp, holding his head high as sweat embedded upon his forehead.. Alexander’s vision grew red, he grunted as his hand pressed against the glass window. “What is happening to us!?” They said in unison. The car swerved to an immediate halt. Their father opened the door and pulled them out. “I’m sorry, but it’s for your own good my children. I should have told you earlier, I wish you luck.” Without another word, the car turned in reverse and sped up back down the road.
Alexander fell to his hands in knees, pain shot up his spinal cord and his upper gums felt as if they were being cut with a razor. As Vincent tried to hold his balance up against a telephone booth, long white fangs sprouted out of the corners of Alexander’s mouth followed by a snarl of rage. His brother’s nails turned to claws and the rest of his flesh turned to a snow white fur, where as Alexander’s turned to a dark Hawaiian brown, both of their icy blue eyes intact. The nine-foot brutes stared at each other from a distance, trying to keep their fear from escaping. They had know idea that is was even possible, nor that it could happen to them. The werelings both looked up to the glorious full moon in the sky. Together, they roared out a howl, symbolizing they accept these bodies as one.
In the morning, the two woke to a blurry start, persuading each other that last night was permanent and there was no turning back to what they have become. Vincent suggested they go back to their parents, but Alexander denied for he was outraged with his father’s action of not warning them. He refused to see him again and would never forgive him for what he has done. It is because of their father that his other half was a beast. How could he not of seen it coming? His mother had always been human, but the realization of their father being immortal made sense. Together Alexander and Vincent set off to live on their owns. Living as a teenager alone wasn’t the smartest plan, but at least they had each other. Alexander helped smuggle food for them to feast upon in the daylight and Vincent kept his brother from getting into fights. At night, the two would hunt in their wolf-like skins for sheep out in farmer’s pastures.
When they finally turned eighteen, the two split ways when Vincent fell in love with a female shifter from Yorkshire, marrying her only two years later. Alexander wished his brother goodbye, continuing his travels after bands and playing gigs in pubs. In 1996, the man headed to the big city across the lake in hope for making a career in the music department. After years of dealing with his other half, he named him Jasper and even wrote songs about his wolf when he was alone. Now, Alexander plays for bar outside of New York City as a loner, spending his days filled with writing songs and late nights with Jasper in control.
Pack: Braveheart
Joining Keys: All joining keys have been removed for the fair joining of future members ~Alpha Gabriel
Human Photo:
Wolf Photo:
Example Post: "You know who I am, so what's the point?"
Age: 73 years old, but still feeling like 20. ;D
Gender: -looks down- "I’m pretty sure you can figure that out, darlin’."
Rank: Warrior
Summary: I don’t enjoy speaking of my past, but since you asked here goes...
In 1940, WW2 was in complete control. Outside the skies were the color of smoke. The Nazis’ boots thumped loudly on the roads of Europe. It didn’t take long for the Germans to come across another family to put into a concentration camp like the rest where they will eventually die of diseases, chemicals, or even starvation. People were at war as well as being captured, but some families remained hidden. Outside of London, a small family of shifters stay locked away in an underground bomb shelter where two bouncing baby boys are born. The mother with golden and long brown lochs looked to both of the newborn boys cradling in her arms. Her husband, pureblood wereling and father of the children stood at her side. The twins both had a pair of matching icy blue eyes and light brown, dirty blonde hair. She whispered. “We shall name him Vincent, and the other Alexander Jr..”
When the war ended, the twins had finally reached the age of five and were learning how to read and write. The parents could barely tell which twin was who due to their identical features and personalities, but when they turned eight, the two grew different from each other. Vincent had learned a love for teaching, where as Alexander enjoyed fighting as well as an interest for playing the guitar. Alexander and Vincent were bonded as brothers aside their differences, treating each other fairly and teaching each other things they did not know. It worked out perfectly for the parents as well as for the twins. What could go wrong?
One the night of their thirteenth birthday, things started to feel unbalanced to the twins. Their father grabbed them by the arms and pulled them to the side, away from the party. His eyes held a fear the boys had never seen, Alexander could feel his brother’s hand trembling in his grasp. The next thing they knew, they were being dragged into their mother’s car and driven off without a goodbye to their relatives. Vincent’s icy eyes grey wide as he noticed how fast their father was driving, Alexander pulled him into his embrace. “I don’t know what is going on, but you must stay calm. It’s going to be alright, brother.” He chocked out a whisper. Vincent then seemed to pull free of his grasp, holding his head high as sweat embedded upon his forehead.. Alexander’s vision grew red, he grunted as his hand pressed against the glass window. “What is happening to us!?” They said in unison. The car swerved to an immediate halt. Their father opened the door and pulled them out. “I’m sorry, but it’s for your own good my children. I should have told you earlier, I wish you luck.” Without another word, the car turned in reverse and sped up back down the road.
Alexander fell to his hands in knees, pain shot up his spinal cord and his upper gums felt as if they were being cut with a razor. As Vincent tried to hold his balance up against a telephone booth, long white fangs sprouted out of the corners of Alexander’s mouth followed by a snarl of rage. His brother’s nails turned to claws and the rest of his flesh turned to a snow white fur, where as Alexander’s turned to a dark Hawaiian brown, both of their icy blue eyes intact. The nine-foot brutes stared at each other from a distance, trying to keep their fear from escaping. They had know idea that is was even possible, nor that it could happen to them. The werelings both looked up to the glorious full moon in the sky. Together, they roared out a howl, symbolizing they accept these bodies as one.
In the morning, the two woke to a blurry start, persuading each other that last night was permanent and there was no turning back to what they have become. Vincent suggested they go back to their parents, but Alexander denied for he was outraged with his father’s action of not warning them. He refused to see him again and would never forgive him for what he has done. It is because of their father that his other half was a beast. How could he not of seen it coming? His mother had always been human, but the realization of their father being immortal made sense. Together Alexander and Vincent set off to live on their owns. Living as a teenager alone wasn’t the smartest plan, but at least they had each other. Alexander helped smuggle food for them to feast upon in the daylight and Vincent kept his brother from getting into fights. At night, the two would hunt in their wolf-like skins for sheep out in farmer’s pastures.
When they finally turned eighteen, the two split ways when Vincent fell in love with a female shifter from Yorkshire, marrying her only two years later. Alexander wished his brother goodbye, continuing his travels after bands and playing gigs in pubs. In 1996, the man headed to the big city across the lake in hope for making a career in the music department. After years of dealing with his other half, he named him Jasper and even wrote songs about his wolf when he was alone. Now, Alexander plays for bar outside of New York City as a loner, spending his days filled with writing songs and late nights with Jasper in control.
Pack: Braveheart
Joining Keys: All joining keys have been removed for the fair joining of future members ~Alpha Gabriel
Human Photo:
Wolf Photo:
Example Post: "You know who I am, so what's the point?"
Last edited by Guardian Alexander on Mon Oct 21, 2013 10:37 pm; edited 7 times in total
Tue Mar 14, 2017 2:09 am by 
