Requelm

Dredged from an underwater facility isn't exactly the brightest way of remembering your origin. Of course, neither is remembering why you were down there and what you really are either. Well, it's not if you are normal anyway. Sure, there were thousands of horrible experiments that took place deep within hundreds of which took place with him. That he can remember, anyway. Now and then details slip through, and sure it pisses him off that had happened to him...but there were good times. From a perspective anyway, like being in a ghetto or high crime area. Sure there are bad things that go on, but you're living aren't you? Anyway, to back up a few pages in the old book left on an old park bench it was a dairy. Yellowed pages, rotting binding--it was an old thing to stumble upon but what's more unique are the pages. Hundreds, easily seven hundred pages and over thirteen years worth of entries detailing the week by week life of a subject. The very one, dredged from an underwater facility in the middle of no where and each entry ended with '-Requelm.' Dating back to the start of his life, waking up as a small boy within a test tube no older than four years old. The writing malformed, yet even so written a lot of data for someone of that age. Explaining his life, the way his body can appear human. How he usually goes about with wolf ears and tail, the escapades of becoming a cross between wolf and man and murdering lab assistants. The full wolf, running through the laboratory halls howling in the midst of another chaotic break for escape. How he drained countless other subjects when they wanted to monitor how he fed. Every drop of their blood pooling in his form, making him stronger as he lived and how he could take a kiss and steal a life. Countless other details, abstract down to mathematical designs on how his body was constructed. How he used the data he stole to figure out more latent, unforseen abilities within himself. The sun was beginning to set, boy you've been reading a while haven't you? The soft sound of boots walking across pavement would echo behind you, followed by a soft chuckle. "So, my journal was still at the park after all. Imagine that." A calm voice would speak, as the person holding the diary would drop it in a startle. Lean arms would slide around their waist from behind, a soft sigh of breath escaping and a gentle hum. "I'm afraid you know how the story's going to end, huh?...Out in the wild, living amongst you all. Shame, you're cute...could've had fun with you." He'd speak onward, before his hand would cover their mouth and his lips wrap around the neck with fangs piercing within. Struggling hard, before it began to weaken as the man would relinquish their throat and smile. "Shh...It'll be over soon." He murmured, and stole a kiss. Midnight hair falling over his victim's face, as he gently lay them down on the park bench. Black, baggy cargo pants rustling in the wind with a loose black coat. Open rather then buttoned, resembling a laboratory coat almost as he would bend over and grab the journal. "Thank you for keeping it safe, may your afterlife be at peace.." He murmured, and turning away he would leave the scene. The sky becoming dark, as he knew another predator would come by for the body later mistaking it for a sleeping patron. He'd finally made it somewhere he could be himself, Requelm's arrived.

What fun is this? Live a little, do some asking and talking.

Super submissives. Tied up? Wiggle, suck harder, make noise...etc. if a corpse was wanted, there are cemetaries. Being fucked? Ask for more, press back into, things like that. You get the idea. A little bonus here: "Do what you want.." is an irritating responce. Your submissive, not an idiot. You know what you like, so when asked...Bloody answer. Both character and player hate, otherwise would not have added this in.

See interests.

None.