HairyhereticCharacter Description: Character Name:
Mikasi 'Michael' Shadow-on-the-face-of-the-moonGender:
Michael has found himself a somewhat unwilling fighter against the things that go bump in the night. He would much rather spend his time with a hot girl and a cold beer. His passanger though frequently has other ideas. Given the choice between taking on assorted gribblies on his terms, or waking up with a battered and bruised everything, he grumbles and does what he needs to.History:
Michael never knew his father, and as a child his mother made it clear that that man wasn't someone she cared to talk about. Growing up, he was teased by other children about being a 'half breed', half native American, and half .. something else. He learned how to fight when he had to, and when it made more sense to run.
A troubled child grew into a troubled young man, one whom brushed up against the law on countless occasions, but seemed to be lucky enough to avoid serious trouble ... which was a good thing, as he learned the fine arts of petty larceny. His few friends shook their heads, telling him that he would one day get himself in trouble that he couldn't talk, run or fight his way out of. He laughed at them, full of the arrogance of youth.
After he found the sword, his laughter stopped.
It wasn't his fault. I mean, the sword had to be the most expensive thing in that old guys house, and he wasn't going to need it after he'd died, right? Only he couldn't get rid of it. It was like other people couldn't even see it. He tried to dump it, but woke up with it sitting at the foot of his bed. Then the voices started. Well, one voice anyway. He figured he was going mad, right up to the point that something with far too many teeth and claws tried to eat his face.
He's still a little fuzzy on that part, but most people don't turn into minotaur like monsters, and bounce around like something out of a Hong Kong action flick. The next few weeks are still a blur, a haze of alcohol, camera flash memories and pain.
A chance run in with a member of Paranet (he saved the girl from some nasty or other, so she says) got him in touch with some people who really knew what the world was like, and how he'd fallen into the cracks too.
After his mother died, he found himself with a tattered photo and a pair of letters, a lead on the father he never knew. A name ... James Hennesy, and an address in London, England.
((Will add more later))