Strength 4/8 (as Werewolf) Dexterity 4/6 (as Werewolf) Constitution 4/6 (as Werewolf) Intelligence 3 Perception 4 Willpower 3
Acute Senses [Smell] (from Werewolf Quality), Attractiveness (1), Fast Reaction Time (2), Hard to Kill 5 (5), Jock (3), Natural Toughness (2), Werewolf [full control] (12)
Adversary [Vampires, Demons, and the occasional Werewolf Hunter] (3), Clown (1), Love (2), Secret [Werewolf] (2), Teenager (2)
They say puberty brings on many changes. I'm here to tell you, they don't say the half of it. One day you're joking around with your friends, playing on the B-Ball team, getting into a little inoffensive trouble. The next day you're running down a dark alley trying to get away from a werewolf hunter who wants to stuff and mount you. The first time the change hit me I almost ate my best bud. We were fighting over a girl. He hit me. He didn't mean anything by it, ya know, but it cheesed me off royally. I snarled at him, and I mean really snarled. Then I felt funny, and Ed was giving me this look. I looked down at my hands, and my nails had grown a little - like an inch. I ran all the way home, and it only got worse. By the time I was home I was covered in fur, with inch long fangs. I ran up to my room, trying to avoid my mom. I was totally freaked, so I ended up knocking over a lamp, and a chair, and a table. Mom found me in my room, and she wasn't surprised at all, just kind of sad. She told me about my dad, who had died when I was like six, and about the gypsy curse and the way it had gradually changed so we could control it. She said she hadn't mentioned any of this before now because she hoped it wouldn't hit me. Sometimes it skips a generation. Ed was cool, but he was freaked, and he started talking. Pretty soon I was getting funny looks from other people. About a month later I had my first run in with a professional werewolf hunter. Fortunately, he was expecting a mindless monster, not somebody who would slash the tires on his Harley. We moved after that, though. Of course it seems that we've moved to Weirdness Central. A couple of months ago, I saw an honest-to-god Vampire attacking this girl. I didn't even think about it, I just wolfed out and tore the bloodsucker to shreds. Then this other girl with a wooden stake tackled me and tried to rip my head off before the first girl told her to stop. Then this English guy said something about it not being the full moon, and the girl stopped hitting me, which was really good. Now I'm helping these people out. On the sly, like. I don't want the whole school to know I'm a furry freak, and I'd kind of rather my mom not know I'm out fighting vampires.
Quote: "So help me if you offer me one more dog-biscuit I'll bite your arm off, and I may not wait to change shape first."
You want to be just a normal kid, play on the team, maybe form a band (You're pretty good at that guitar thing), party, you know. On the other hand, you can't just stand by and watch other people get hurt while you can do something about it. With great furryness comes great responsibliliy, right? You're not about to make a spandex costume, and you sure as heck don't want anyone outside the Scooby Gang to know about you, but when it's time to throw down with the forces of darkness, you're a lean, mean werewolf machine. Oh, and that girl you saved from the vampire that time is a hottie.
"Vintage" car, Letter Jacket, Tire Iron.
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