Post by The Overseer on Oct 9, 2006 4:32:17 GMT -5
Name: Kevin Anders
Alias: The Judge
Celebrity Used: Mark Wahlberg
D.O.B.: January 13th, 1975
Age: 29
Concept: Federal Marshal/Vampire Executioner
Height: 5'10
Weight: 170
Hair: Dark Auburn
Eyes: Dark Chocolate
Race: Caucasion
Religion: Catholic
Nationality: American
Languages: Too many to name
Vehicle(s): 1969 Chevrolet Camaro SS Upgraded
Weapon(s): Too many to name
Location(s): Kansas City Metropolitan Area
Fighting Style(s): Too many to name
Dominant Hand: Both
RolePlaying Style(s): All
Favorite Food(s): Fast and delicious
Most Hated Food(s): Healthy
Allergies: None
Marital Status: Unknown
Favorite Place: Kansas City Metropolitan Area
Favorite Music: Anything but Country and Kenny G
Favorite Movie(s): Classic Horror
Mark(s) and Tattoo(s): Well too many to name, literally
Powers/Special Abilities:
Precognitive Psychic- Level 3
Clairvoyancy/Clairvoyant- Level 3
Intuition- Level 2
The Gifts:
Throughout my life alot of people have asked about my gift. Well it's simple, when it happens, I just see things, but not like you would think, it's kind of like looking at a photo album, and the images that I see there, tend to happen ten times out of ten. But I have no control over it, in fact it happens more than I would like it to. Someone's cheating on their wife, someone's about to steal a child, whatever it is, when I get close enough to them, I can see these pictures. When I shake hands with someone, or pick up something, their histories flash by me in quick images, this is like being in a movie theatre, the images are clear and big, but it still looks fake, that's why it's kind of hard to determine, but the images that are apparent would be things I was interested in, like you tell me about your friend dying, then you intorduce me to their wife/husband, the moment I shake their hand I will be able to see their memories and feelings on the person that passed away. Recently I have been able to determine the feelings by the colors behind the images, if there is anger, or hatred I see red as the screen, if there was love, or caring, it is more pink to white, if there was friendship, light yellows, guilt is green, and sadness would be blue. With the green I try to touch the person numerous times, because the only reason why they would feel guilt, would be due to them killing the person, if this is true, then I take it upon myself to apprehend them, my buddies down at the station don't mind that when I point out the evidence they will need. When encountering a Lycanthrope my skin become warm, and static electricity builds up, like small sparks dancing over the hair on my arms. Vamps are easy, when they get within five feet of me it's like my bones go cold, but I would like to think that I could spot the vamp coming well before it got that close. This gift amazes even the Vamps that I know, and yes, the guys down at the pool hall give me grief over putting a handful of Vamps on the 'Immunity' list, but we have to, cause we are not, and I repeat we are nothing like H.A.V., we take out the renegade Vamps who think they are Gods. I get along just fine with Lycanthrope, although I did have to put one down once, down, not out. I think it was a Weretiger, but I didn't study it that long. I was dating this chick who lived over off of Swope Parkway, well needless to say on a Saturday night, don't park there, cause just the few feet from your destination to your car could mean you are dinner. Anyway this guy was in the park screaming at the trees or whatever, so I just ignored him, that's the last time that will happen. I come out and the guy is on the ground, so I thought he was just taking a nap, but this weird, crackling sound came from him, like dry bubble wrap, then when I noticed the guy was getting too big for my comfort I paniced, again, bad idea. Dropping the keys on the ground caught the beast's attention, so after I crapped myself a few times I was finally able to open the driver's side door, oh how I love the door pockets, which held my baby, the .45 Kenny made, d**n he is good with guns, but for some reason he prefers knives, talk about irony. Anyway, he got me with a nasty claw to my back, I got him with five rounds into his stomach. But of course, my d**n morals would get in the way, so here I was, in my pride and joy, the Camaro, d**n werebeast passed out bleeding all over my backseat and I was flying down I-70 tring to get to Central Ave. in order to save the creature. Pulling up to Deathany, or Bethany Medical Center, the east wing of course, the creature was taken away, but that was only a timy portion of my problem. There was my sister, fresh from nursing school taking the crap job of working on the preternaturals, and now her brother. The moment she saw the claw marks she began to cry, ok, so much for her helping me, but the doc that moved to me did. He had the brightest blue eyes I had ever seen, like they could glow on their own, without any light, and they could, cause the doctor was a Wererat. Even with the laws stating you can't be prejudice against preternaturals, people still were, so he worked at Deathany. There was this unspoken respect for one another, considering he gave me the anti-lycanthrope syrum, due to the fact I brought the Werekitty there, instead of letting it bleed to death on the street, or let it get other people, either one was not a good option. So he gave me his card, Dr. Glen Lennox is his name, and I get the anti-lycan shots by the caseloads from him, they say that KC has more of that then it does water, good news for me. But ever since then I have got the heated sparks, and the original vamp attack got me the cold bones and I like to call it, so if you ever want to find me, and you've heard of me, just go on the streets, and ask for UV, cause I'm just as deadly to the f**kin fangheads as sunlight.
History:
Alright, you want my history, ok, I was born, and now here I am... ok, ok, ok I was born January 13th, 1975, yeah I know, creepy date, but I think it's fitting for me. I have two younger brothers and one older sister. We all keep in touch, even after all we have been through. Let's see here, it was maybe August of '79 when my real dad left, he was a drunk that worked at the grain plant down in Fairfax, a real bum, and I think I'm following in his footsteps, wait, I know, one thing at a time. Anyways, he left leaving my mom with two kids, a mortgage and bills neck high. Needless to say she got rid of the mortgage and a few of the bills by selling the house back to the bank, putting us in a two bedroom apartment off of 10th and Central. It was crap to say the least, but we made due and got by, as I am still here to tell the tale. Mom got two jobs, one at 'Deathany', or Bethany Medical Center working nights for the emergency room, she pretty much hands them a clipboard and talks to my aunt on the phone over at the police station. Yep, just a couple of night owls, hootin over the phone at 3 a.m. on a Tuesday morning. Mom's other job was at Paul's down on Osage in Armourdale, the best d**n onion rings in the country if you ask me. Moving along here, things were pretty touch-and-go there for a while, until I got to middle school. It was Central Middle School, just down the street, well, a few blocks, but sixth grade was there, time to get my act together... yeah right, I think fights were booked in advance for me there. It didn't matter what I did, grabbed the last big cookie at lunch, tried to make my clothes look nice, which even reflects to this day, you will see everything in my place torn up and junked beyond, but I guarantee you there will not be one unfolded piece of clean clothing, and the dirty clothing will seem neat in the hamper, I would stake my life on it, no offence to you fangheads out there.
Alias: The Judge
Celebrity Used: Mark Wahlberg
D.O.B.: January 13th, 1975
Age: 29
Concept: Federal Marshal/Vampire Executioner
Height: 5'10
Weight: 170
Hair: Dark Auburn
Eyes: Dark Chocolate
Race: Caucasion
Religion: Catholic
Nationality: American
Languages: Too many to name
Vehicle(s): 1969 Chevrolet Camaro SS Upgraded
Weapon(s): Too many to name
Location(s): Kansas City Metropolitan Area
Fighting Style(s): Too many to name
Dominant Hand: Both
RolePlaying Style(s): All
Favorite Food(s): Fast and delicious
Most Hated Food(s): Healthy
Allergies: None
Marital Status: Unknown
Favorite Place: Kansas City Metropolitan Area
Favorite Music: Anything but Country and Kenny G
Favorite Movie(s): Classic Horror
Mark(s) and Tattoo(s): Well too many to name, literally
Powers/Special Abilities:
Precognitive Psychic- Level 3
Clairvoyancy/Clairvoyant- Level 3
Intuition- Level 2
The Gifts:
Throughout my life alot of people have asked about my gift. Well it's simple, when it happens, I just see things, but not like you would think, it's kind of like looking at a photo album, and the images that I see there, tend to happen ten times out of ten. But I have no control over it, in fact it happens more than I would like it to. Someone's cheating on their wife, someone's about to steal a child, whatever it is, when I get close enough to them, I can see these pictures. When I shake hands with someone, or pick up something, their histories flash by me in quick images, this is like being in a movie theatre, the images are clear and big, but it still looks fake, that's why it's kind of hard to determine, but the images that are apparent would be things I was interested in, like you tell me about your friend dying, then you intorduce me to their wife/husband, the moment I shake their hand I will be able to see their memories and feelings on the person that passed away. Recently I have been able to determine the feelings by the colors behind the images, if there is anger, or hatred I see red as the screen, if there was love, or caring, it is more pink to white, if there was friendship, light yellows, guilt is green, and sadness would be blue. With the green I try to touch the person numerous times, because the only reason why they would feel guilt, would be due to them killing the person, if this is true, then I take it upon myself to apprehend them, my buddies down at the station don't mind that when I point out the evidence they will need. When encountering a Lycanthrope my skin become warm, and static electricity builds up, like small sparks dancing over the hair on my arms. Vamps are easy, when they get within five feet of me it's like my bones go cold, but I would like to think that I could spot the vamp coming well before it got that close. This gift amazes even the Vamps that I know, and yes, the guys down at the pool hall give me grief over putting a handful of Vamps on the 'Immunity' list, but we have to, cause we are not, and I repeat we are nothing like H.A.V., we take out the renegade Vamps who think they are Gods. I get along just fine with Lycanthrope, although I did have to put one down once, down, not out. I think it was a Weretiger, but I didn't study it that long. I was dating this chick who lived over off of Swope Parkway, well needless to say on a Saturday night, don't park there, cause just the few feet from your destination to your car could mean you are dinner. Anyway this guy was in the park screaming at the trees or whatever, so I just ignored him, that's the last time that will happen. I come out and the guy is on the ground, so I thought he was just taking a nap, but this weird, crackling sound came from him, like dry bubble wrap, then when I noticed the guy was getting too big for my comfort I paniced, again, bad idea. Dropping the keys on the ground caught the beast's attention, so after I crapped myself a few times I was finally able to open the driver's side door, oh how I love the door pockets, which held my baby, the .45 Kenny made, d**n he is good with guns, but for some reason he prefers knives, talk about irony. Anyway, he got me with a nasty claw to my back, I got him with five rounds into his stomach. But of course, my d**n morals would get in the way, so here I was, in my pride and joy, the Camaro, d**n werebeast passed out bleeding all over my backseat and I was flying down I-70 tring to get to Central Ave. in order to save the creature. Pulling up to Deathany, or Bethany Medical Center, the east wing of course, the creature was taken away, but that was only a timy portion of my problem. There was my sister, fresh from nursing school taking the crap job of working on the preternaturals, and now her brother. The moment she saw the claw marks she began to cry, ok, so much for her helping me, but the doc that moved to me did. He had the brightest blue eyes I had ever seen, like they could glow on their own, without any light, and they could, cause the doctor was a Wererat. Even with the laws stating you can't be prejudice against preternaturals, people still were, so he worked at Deathany. There was this unspoken respect for one another, considering he gave me the anti-lycanthrope syrum, due to the fact I brought the Werekitty there, instead of letting it bleed to death on the street, or let it get other people, either one was not a good option. So he gave me his card, Dr. Glen Lennox is his name, and I get the anti-lycan shots by the caseloads from him, they say that KC has more of that then it does water, good news for me. But ever since then I have got the heated sparks, and the original vamp attack got me the cold bones and I like to call it, so if you ever want to find me, and you've heard of me, just go on the streets, and ask for UV, cause I'm just as deadly to the f**kin fangheads as sunlight.
History:
Alright, you want my history, ok, I was born, and now here I am... ok, ok, ok I was born January 13th, 1975, yeah I know, creepy date, but I think it's fitting for me. I have two younger brothers and one older sister. We all keep in touch, even after all we have been through. Let's see here, it was maybe August of '79 when my real dad left, he was a drunk that worked at the grain plant down in Fairfax, a real bum, and I think I'm following in his footsteps, wait, I know, one thing at a time. Anyways, he left leaving my mom with two kids, a mortgage and bills neck high. Needless to say she got rid of the mortgage and a few of the bills by selling the house back to the bank, putting us in a two bedroom apartment off of 10th and Central. It was crap to say the least, but we made due and got by, as I am still here to tell the tale. Mom got two jobs, one at 'Deathany', or Bethany Medical Center working nights for the emergency room, she pretty much hands them a clipboard and talks to my aunt on the phone over at the police station. Yep, just a couple of night owls, hootin over the phone at 3 a.m. on a Tuesday morning. Mom's other job was at Paul's down on Osage in Armourdale, the best d**n onion rings in the country if you ask me. Moving along here, things were pretty touch-and-go there for a while, until I got to middle school. It was Central Middle School, just down the street, well, a few blocks, but sixth grade was there, time to get my act together... yeah right, I think fights were booked in advance for me there. It didn't matter what I did, grabbed the last big cookie at lunch, tried to make my clothes look nice, which even reflects to this day, you will see everything in my place torn up and junked beyond, but I guarantee you there will not be one unfolded piece of clean clothing, and the dirty clothing will seem neat in the hamper, I would stake my life on it, no offence to you fangheads out there.