Hunter Oliver Nichols

[hunter]

Hunter Oliver Nichols
"Thou art the Great Cat, the avenger of the Gods, and the judge of words, and the president of the sovereign chiefs and the governor of the holy Circle; thou art indeed...the Great Cat"

. B A S I C . I N F O .

NAME Hunter Oliver Nichols
NICKNAMES Hunt, Ollie
GENDER Male
RACE? human turned werepanther (bitten by members of the Hot Shot werepanther pack)
AGE 19-20
SEXUALITY Heterosexual

. A P P E A R A N C E .

HAIR Black, cut short with bangs barely brushing into his eyes
EYES Vibrant blue in colour - very similar to the color cerulean.
HEIGHT 5'10 (178cms) - his panther form is a few inches bigger than a regular panther.
WEIGHT He's of slim build, so about 135-140lbs? (His panther form is a lot heavier than this, obviously)
FEATURES Multiple bite scars on his body from werepanthers from Hot Shot.

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. P E R S O N A L I T Y .

LIKES Mythology, ancient history, cats, rain, icecream, spinach, swimming, the sun, running, girls, parties, drinking.
DISLIKES Snobs, onion, dogs (he's allergic to them), people who call him a mother's boy, his father at times
STRENGTHS As a budding werepanther he has greater strength when in his animal form, and he's faster and more agile. He's also very intelligent and uses that to his advantage.
WEAKNESSES He can only turn during a full moon, he cannot control himself when he turns, and he dislikes fighting when he isn't in his animal form.
OVERALL PERSONALITY
&&The youngest child&&

Born into a Southern 'old money' family as the youngest child, Hunter has found that things have always come easier to him. Now, this hasn't given him a 'spoiled' attitude, rather, it's forced him to work harder to get the proper attention he's wanted as a person rather as the baby in the family. His family who respect him, but at times it takes longer for them to notice him. He's got a great relationship with his mother, and they're still really close friends even though he has his own friends to hang out with. He also loves his elder siblings, Anne-Marie and Harley dearly, even though he doesn't see the twins often.

&&the straight A student&&

By the time he'd hit high school, his siblings had already moved out which gave his mother plenty of chances to help him with anything he needed. Using her help, and natural intelligence, he became a straight A student, and mostly loathed while he was at school. He did have friends, but most just thought he was a suck up. His grades helped him earn a scholarship for mythology and history at Louisiana State in Shreveport. He's generally proud of his grades, but doesn't like flaunting his intelligence.

&&the partygoer&&

Like most teens, Hunter had his brush with the party scene. He's a looser person at parties, and actually has fun. He can hold his liquor quite well, and he loves dancing. He can be a bit of a flirt but he's an overall gentleman and would never take advantage of a drunk girl, no matter the circumstances. He's responsible even while he's drinking and is almost always the designated driver.

&&the werepanther&&

Now is where things become tricky. He has no recollection of the attack at Hot Shot, nor the events that happened after. All that he has are strange bites on his body, and flashbacks. During the full moon, he loses every semblence of sanity and rationality and becomes the beast he's forced to phase into. This is because he was turned, not born into the were society and cannot control his animal form. He will not hesitate to kill simply because that is his nature. He cannot distinguish friend from enemy, and can only restrain himself in the face of his family. Right before he shifts he gets abnormally agitated, and violent, a hint that he's going to shift, and he can never remember the events that go about while he's in his animal form.

&&confused and alone&&

He has absolutely no one to tell him what's going on, and that scares the hell out of him. He doesn't even know what happens. It got to the point where he is now prescribed both sleeping pills and anti anxiety pills, as he was getting so stressed that he stopped eating and sleeping, and would experience panic attacks just thinking about it. He needs friends, and people to tell him what's going on.

&&the romantic&&

A true blue Southern gentleman, Hunter is looking for that special girl to fill the gap in his heart. He knows she's out there somewhere. All he has to do is find her. He's caring, and while not exactly the kindest person after the attack, he's patient. He;s all for flowers, and taking girls out on dates, and yes, partying. He'd buy chocolates and sit by the toilet while she throws up just to hold her hair. He just longs for the person that can accept every part of him.

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. H I S T O R Y .

FAMILY Caroline Angela Nichols -mother/49
Billy Ray Nichols -father/51
Harley Nichols -brother/26
Anne-Marie Nichols -sister/26
HOME Town Bon Temps, Louisiana
OVERALL HISTORY

Born in late June to parents Caroline and Billy Ray, in the quiet town of Bon Temps, Louisiana, Hunter was the third child in a very well off family. For all of his childhood, things were easy. They had the best clothes, the best toys, the best tutors. But, the best part. Their parents always had time for them. His elder siblings, identical twins Anne-Marie and Harley, always the more noticed out of the three Nichols siblings, but Hunter always got his fair share of attention from their mother. He was her favourite, she always said so, and he didn't care if he was teased and called a mother's boy, he was happy.

School came and went, and byt he time Hunter was 18, his siblings had already moved out and were living in New Orleans. He'd recieved a scholarship from Louisiana State, to attend and study mythology and ancient history. He was a good student and an overall good kid, a real gentleman. However, his second year of college he made friends with the wrong person. Bryce was a high school dropout that had friends in high places, and somehow managed to get into Louisiana state. So, he managed to convince Hunter to come with him to get more weed. Now, while Hunter was against drugs, he was friends with Bryce, and drove him out to Hot Shot one night to buy from the Norris family. What he hadn't been expecting was to get attacked by a group of panthers after Bryce refused to pay full price. They killed Bryce, and bit Hunter numerous times, but didn't kill him.

He was found a few miles down the road by a passerby, and taken to the hospital. Thankfully the full moon wasn't until the end of the month, and he was out of hospital well before that occured. After spending the night partying, Hunter was on his way home when he stopped near Hot Shot, during the full moon. He shifted, and then woke the next morning outside his house, with no recollection of his actions. He was placed on anti anxiety pills and sleeping pills when the stress began to get to him, but he still doesn't know what happened, or what happens every full moon.

. O U T . O F . C H A R A C T E R .

YOUR NAME Victoria
YOUR AGE eighteen
ROLEPLAY EXPERIENCE 10 years.
HOW YOU FOUND US Admin
FACE CLAIM Colin Morgan
RULES PASSCODE ~removed by pam~
SPECIES PASSCODE ~removed by pam~

ROLEPLAY SAMPLE

It was dark. Had it always been dark? No. It wasn't dark. His eyes were closed. But he wasn't sure if he wanted to open them. The sounds of the world outside frightened him. A woman's blood curdling screams for help, the yowling of some sort of cat. The sound of clothes ripping, and then an almighty crunch. And then... Silence. It was as if the very air had stopped circulating, and all the world was still, save for one sound. The soft drip, drip, drip of a thick liquid hitting the pavement. What was going on? He tried to move, and made to cry out in horror, but he could do neither. His body was numb, immobilized, and his mouth would not work, or maybe it was his throat. All he could do was lie there, and listen, as the events carried on around him. And then, nothing again. No sound, no light, not even a breathe. His chest grew tight, and his head dizzy, and he felt himself begin to slip away, drifting further into the subconscious of his own mind...

The panther looked up from the corpse of the lifeless woman, blood dripping from his maw as yellow eyes gazed around the empty lot beside Hot Shot. Something had happened there, he knew it. But he couldn't quite remember what. Or how he had gotten there. Or why he'd attacked the woman. All he rememered was watching her leave Hot Shot, and then... pouncing. His claws had ripped through clothes and flesh with ease, leaving ribbons in their wake as he turned on her. His jaw was powerful, and her feeble throat was no match as he closed his jaws around her jugular and bit down. Blood had spurted every where. Over him, over the road. Everywhere. He could still taste it, coppery and warm, rolling around his mouth. And yet, a part of him liked it. Letting out a low yowl he dipped his head and tore off a chunk of flesh from her shoulder, devouring it before a low rumble made him look up. Headlights in the distance. A car approaching. Slowing. Stopping. The panther was still until the last moment, before finally, blending in with his surroundings, he took off into the trees, making for a familiar place, and scent. It was strange that he knew where he was going, without knowing where he was going, or so he thought. But he was an animal. Nothing more. No rationality. No control. No trace of human left.

The sun burned bright, forcing Hunter to wake. His body ached in places he didn't even know he had, and his eyes momentarily refused to work as he sat up, lifting his fingers to brush hair out of his eyes before he stopped. Why were his fingers red? Was there something wrong with his eyes or... Blood! A shout of distress left him and he stumbled to his feet, staring dow at his blood stained hands, and shirt. In fact, he was covered in blood from head to toe. With no recollection of what had happened. That was the most unnerving part. Turning on his heel, he realised he'd woken in his backyard. Thankfully no one was awake yet. Making his way up the back porch, he slipped in through the washhouse door and made his way for the shower, making a mental note to burn his clothes afterwards. As he stood naked in front of the shower, his eyes slowly lowered over several prominant bite marks that covered him. One throbbed against his shoulder, another rested on his hip, and a third still oozed blood from his chest. And while he couldn't feel them, he knew there were more on his back. What had caused them? he had no idea. His eyes looked away and he closed them, trying to remember as a dull ache spread through his skull. After a few minutes of no luck, he stepped towards the shower and turned it on, moving under the warm stream as it heated. He stood in silence, watching the water stain red as the blood washed away from his body, his hands raised in front of his face as he stared at the shaking appendages. He just could not remember. And it frightened him.

"Hunter, is that you sweetheart?" His mother. She was always up early. Maybe she had noticed that he hadn't come home the night before. Hunter looked towards the door, his hands dropping to his sides. He didn't know what to tell her. He didn't know himself. As long as she didn't come in, or notice the smell. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, mom, it's me," he called back, clearing his throat as he ducked his head out of the shower, rivulets of ruby water dripping down his face. "I'm sorry if I woke you. I was at a friend's place last night. I'm sorry for not calling or anything."

There was silence before his mother called back something and he relaxed. He was a good kid, he had gotten good grades at school and now he was attending the local college in Shreveport on a scholarship. His parents trusted him. Stepping back under the shower he washed off the rest of the blood before he turned the water off and wrapped a towel around his hips. If only he could remember what had happened the night before. Stepping towards the mirror, he stared at himself before his vision blurred and he had a sudden image of a great black cat lunging at a helpless woman. All too soon the image was gone and Hunter was left pale faced and trembling, gripping the hand basin. What was that? He was still thinking about the image as he carried his bagged and bloody clothes down to the dumpster, a hand raking through his hair as he looked down the street afterwards. Something had happened. And he needed to know what it was.

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