Werewolf Lord, Semi-Retired


You think you know what monsters are. You think you are a monster." Eyes begin to glow bright yellow. Voice deepening, sounding inhuman. "I'll show you a monster.

Jason Christopher

The werewolf Lord of the Children of the Moon is now semi-retired and living in La Push, Washington as the owner of K9's club. Not particularly partial to human beings and most vampires, he is suspicious of pretty much everyone who isn't a werewolf or some sort of shifter. He has relaxed a great deal since relocating to Washington and meeting Jacob Black, but in his four hundred plus years he has developed quite a reputation for himself as a boogie man, especially among (though not limited to) vampires, who referred to him as The Nightstalker.

Personality Edit

For most of his over four centuries of life, Jason had been deeply damaged individual. All of the most memorable events in his life were tragic, from the many lifetimes of being used by his father as a weapon, to the loss of his mother and, later, his wife and child at the hands of his father. This lead him down a path of vengeance where he became far more like his father than he would ever have been comfortable to admit, had he even been able to clearly see it at the time.

This was the case for nearly a century. Jason used anyone he needed to and killed indiscriminately to forward his goals, right up until he arrived in La Push, Washington and met Jacob Black. Jacob was meant to be a tool, a means to control the wolf pack there and weaponize them against his father, but then Jacob imprinted on him and everything began to change. By the time Jacob and others rescued Jason from his father, and Jason took over as Lord of the Children of the Moon, he was a very different person than he had previously been.

Jason considers himself largely retired now, which is to say he is spending more time enjoying living his life as opposed to ending others'. He once considered himself a monster and was without a lot of remorse about that, but the influence of Jacob and his pack, his son, Sly, and various others he has met in and around Washington have altered that. Now Jason knows he has the capacity to be a monster when sufficiently motivated, but he doesn't need to be all the time, in an unusual way coming to embrace the most basic truth of being a werewolf as a result: finding a better balance between the man, and the beast.


Nature's RoarEdit

Jason is in many ways connected to the natural world, thanks to his very nature as a werewolf and his druidic knowledge. It often reflects his moods with storms, winds, thunder and lightning heralding his arrival. However in times of great rage, or suitably dramatic moments, Jason is able to call on the totality of his connection to nature, in the form of Nature's Roar.

When this gift is employed, Jason either roars, or screams and nature does so with him. Every tree, stone, splash of water, blade of grass, animal in the forests, the very ground itself. All of nature echoes him for miles around. Such that the earth itself seems to vibrate. Even after his roar has ended, the echo of it continues on, rippling outward like a stone being dropped into a serene pond, loosing strength until nature falls eerily muted, or muffled, in the aftermath.




In tandem with his skills as a fighter, being a very fit and active person with finely honed reflexes makes Jason a natural athlete of exceptional skill. His most recent passion has been parkour, which given his abilities, he has technically been doing for a long time. But at least now it has a name.



Perhaps it is just the sheer number of bodies that have been left in his wake through the centuries. There's something that can not be seen, but felt when he looks at someone, or even when they look at him for that matter, as if the weight of all that death never truly leaves, and those ghosts still follow him in droves. Yet, there is a palpable air of danger, of dread, around him. Even without attempting to be intimidating, at any given time it makes itself known just the same: a shudder that rolls down the spine while standing inside next to a warm fireplace, while watching a bitter cold winter storm through a window. He need not even speak. Just a casual glance, or locked eyes, will often achieve the result. Though, when he actively attempts to be intimidating through speech, his voice gets deadly quiet, as opposed to raised in anger. Like a stiletto slipping out of an oiled sheath.

On the rare occasions, however, when he is in fact moved to be angry, he still seems in control, his breathing hardly even shifts to register the annoyance. Only when he is truly enraged is there a physical reaction to it. Something in his gait, his bearing, and particularly his eyes. An unspoken promise there, to whomever made him so angry. A promise that violence will be coming their way, very soon.

It is worth noting though that as intimidating as Jason can be, he is quite capable of being the consummate gentleman as the occasion calls for it as well. Jason can be disarmingly charismatic and charming when he tries to be. That same smile that can virtually freeze the blood one moment. Is quite capable of being every bit as regal as his noble station would suggest it to be. In no small way, his capacity to be so warm, and endearing actually makes his intimidation worse by orders of magnitude. As he effortlessly, and fluidly, moves between them to manipulate and cajole others into doing as he wishes. In his natural, relaxed posture he still has an air of menace about him most people can detect. A predatory feel that even human beings are able to pick up on. An animal charisma that draws one in, despite knowing it is dangerous. Only by actively trying not suppress it, does he appear as "human."

Naturally, those closest to him, those of particularly strong will, and the supremely confident are immune to the effect. The former know he would never willingly cause them harm. The latter, naturally, because of their mental fortitude or inherent confidence in their own skills.



Jason is both man and beast, it is his nature to thrive in both worlds. As such, with the wealth and privilege he has always enjoyed he is well accustomed to the finer things. Wagu beef, Mulberry silk, fleets of vehicles and yachts, homes across the world, private island get a ways. Nothing is really beyond the reach of his wealth. A donation here and there and he has invitations to celebrity galas, weddings, and Academy Award after parties. Whenever possible he tends to purchase land on which one of the Nemeton exist, with real estate companies and agents around the world always making offers on his behalf. As donations go, he particularly favors Museums. He makes a point to attend opening galas for new exhibits, particularly ones which he himself has funded. He is well versed in the antiquities of regions of the world he has traveled, and quite adept at spotting forgeries, fakes, or reproductions.



Jason has made a name for himself in the espionage arena as a freelance problem-solver. Having worked for a number of different government agencies and private interests over the last 80 or so odd years, he has become a nearly legendary figure in the intelligence community. Taking only short-term missions or assignments largely considered "impossible," he has never failed. As a result he is something of a bogeyman in those circles, one that can get places no one else can, get information no one else can, get to people no one else can, and (when the mission calls for it) make sure those people aren't breathing anymore like no one else can--all, of course, without ever having been seen.

Of course, few believe his career is that of a single person, save perhaps a few people considered a bit "special" by their peers. The commonly held belief is that The Nightstalker is a title passed onto new operatives, in a very James Bond sort of way. He is called on as a last resort by most, as it is well known that he is very discerning in what type of assignments he will take, to say nothing of a very non-negotiable fee, which is rumored to be more than the gross national product of a number of small third world countries. It is worth noting two intelligence agencies in the past 80 years tried tracking him down directly. Those directly responsible are cautionary tales now in the community.

As a result of his time in the espionage community, Jason has also developed a fascination with "spy gadgets." As a result he has cultivated a number of "Q" style contacts to develop things for him. Much of it exists in a virtually permanent state of experimental, but if it has appeared in a James Bond movie and the technology exists to build it (or could be paid for to exist), he probably has access to it. He further tends to supplement these technological wonders with more alchemical and druidic ones as well: vampire venom covered shuriken, for example, and alchemical smoke bombs are not uncommon for him to have, among a number of potions and elixirs. He is well-versed in setting up surveillance of a target and the equipment and techniques to do so. He was already capable of breaking and entering from his studies earlier in life, but through his time working as a spy he learned his way around electronic locking mechanisms, security systems, and computers (within a specific context--he's not a true computer expert). He can procure items of a questionable nature from people of a questionable nature within a very small time frame and has such individuals on speed dial for when the situation warrants it. Another component of this, of course, is the oldest trick in the book: simple seduction techniques to get his way. He is not above using his sex appeal to get his way. In short: Christopher, Jason Christopher.



Through his time working in the espionage business Jason has picked up a number of skills one might need to conduct such missions. While he favors martial style weapons, and is far superior in their use. He has learned to be a fairly dead eye shot with various firearms. Both handguns, and rifles both.



Jason has a smattering of general knowledge he has picked up over the years, as one might expect given that he is over 400 years old, a world traveler many times over, and has a flawless memory. One tends to pick up a few things along the way. A sampling of a few of the things Jason has learned include:

Languages: Jason is able to speak, read, and write in English, Japanese, Russian, Romanian, Macedonian, Modern Standard Arabic, Mandarin Chinese, German, French, and Spanish. He is at least able to get by in a handful of other languages as well, based on his travels.

Driving: While no stunt driver, Jason is fully able to handle himself while driving at high speeds. Better than even superior members of law enforcement on average, thanks to the skill and his natural reaction time. His preference is for sleek sports cars, but he is fully capable of driving trucks and larger vehicles as well.

Pilot: Jason knows how to pilot helicopters, small jets, and knows his way around larger airplanes and watercraft. In the latter case, particularly sailboats and yachts which he owns a number of.

Mechanics: Just as a means of being self-sufficient Jason knows the basics of working on any vehicle he knows how to drive or pilot. He is not the equal of a skilled mechanic in diagnostics, but when he gets in their and takes things apart, he is fully able to put it all back together.

Medicine: Jason knows basic first aid techniques, mouth to mouth, and C.P.R. He has the basic medical skills of a trained E.M.T. and is well enough versed in anatomy to use his enhanced senses to detect lies.

Cooking: Jason knows his way around a kitchen and can cook a well-prepared meal in a variety of styles from around the globe. He is no master chef, but he can follow and even tweak existing recipes to the tastes of himself or guests with ease.

World Traveler: Jason has circled the world many times in his life and knows the basic laws of most major countries in the world. He has a solid understanding of investment techniques on a world stage and uses that knowledge to make certain he invests his vast wealth into ventures that will generate more wealth, wealth which is naturally largely hidden, disguised, and tucked away in places such that it would be virtually impossible to discover all of it.



After literally centuries of practice and practical use in a variety of martial arts forms, Jason would qualify as a literal ancient master of hand to hand combat. He knows all of the tenants of ninjitsu, as taught in Japan in the early 1600s. This includes body skills, karate, spear fighting, staff fighting, blade-throwing, use of fire and water (a kind of applied military science), fortification, strategy, and concealment. These are techniques that he has updated with the passing centuries, always keeping his skills updated. In addition he has spent time learning a number of other martial arts forms, both ancient and more modern, since then by studying in a number of locations across the world.

Over time the forms he has learned have all rather blended into an acrobatic fighting style that is his own unique form. Particularly skilled fighters may note elements of other styles incorporated, but it would be a challenge to pick out one defense against a hand to hand style that seems to shift every bit as well and as often as he himself is able to. In fact, some of the moves actually rely on him phasing, at least partially. His style calls on his senses, as well as his natural talents in other ways as well. For example, he is able to fight with no loss of skill at all even with his eyes closed. It is worth noting his martial skills are not absent in his wolf-man or man-wolf phases, making them even more deadly still.



Though less well developed than his vocal and dance skills, Jason still knows how to play a number of musical instruments, something he has pursued as an infrequent hobby over his long life. By far he is most skilled with stringed instruments, in particular guitar, but he can play a piano with no small skill, as well as several woodwind instruments. He is not particularly skilled in drums, at best a talented college band level, but he does enjoy playing them just to blow off some steam.



As an entertainer, Jason excels primarily at singing. His untrained voice is of a quality that he could easily be among the top contenders for a first place finish in a televised competition like The Voice or American Idol. Given his tendency to express more sincere emotions through his music, he has a tendency to practice often in his alone time. His dancing skills are likewise commensurate to his singing voice, ensuring that when he sings he also has those moves like Jagger. He has learned to dance everything from classical ballroom and ballet up through more modern and interpretive dance. His natural athleticism and background in acrobatics and martial arts makes him limber and quite a natural to impress on a dance floor.



Jason spent many decades as his father's assassin. He learned about many of the things that go bump in the night, and how to bump back harder still. Scholars among his kind taught him extensively about occult lore and the creatures that inhabit the shadowy world human beings remain ignorant to. In the intervening centuries he encountered and learned of creatures that even those scholars did not know of, but the bulk of his knowledge is about vampires and shifting breeds of all different types.

Jason also knows a great deal about the legends of the fae and various creatures familiar to the Druidic faith, having trained with druids in his younger years after Japan, and then later continued his studies with Nessa Du Valle. As a result, he is well-versed in magical rituals of the druidic sort, herb lore, and the properties of various flora and fauna, both of the mundane and supernatural varieties. He has a general understanding of the forms and function of various other magics, enough to lend his aid in more impressive casting.



For a variety of reasons Jason is very capable of surviving indefinitely in the wild, pretty much anywhere on Earth from barren desert to arctic tundra and every type of woodland or jungle in between. He knows the proper shelters to make, the right things to eat, where to find them, and how to spot oncoming weather systems even days in advance. He can find medicinal herbs and plants when needed and knows the best uses for any flora and fauna in a given region based on clear and present needs--both mundane and supernatural at that, thanks to his druidic knowledge. He can track across any terrain where someone might leave even the most remote of trails, even when the trail would otherwise seem cold to most.

Even without his animal-based supernatural abilities Jason is a master animal trainer. He is over all animal whisperer, with the ability to recognize hostility, moods, and behaviors in a variety of animal types. If the animal can be trained, given a little time and even without using his supernatural abilities, he will manage to reach it. To say he prefers the company of animals over human beings is a very accurate statement, and his skill with them is demonstrative of that.



Jason was a natural student in his youth, soaking in the teachings of ninja masters, scholars of ancient lore, druids, and a variety of others. All information he has remembered flawlessly over the centuries. As a recruiter and a trainer for his father's forces, Jason learned much in the way of how to pass on that information. He is fully capable of teaching anything he has learned. But his skills truly excel when he teaches other werewolves.

He has an uncanny skill, a bona fide knack for gauging the potential of a werewolf. For feeling out just how strong they might become with the right guidance, the right training. Training which he is then able to provide to them. Generations of new werewolves have learned from him. Have grown stronger under his guidance. He is able to fathom just what it takes to bring out the phases of the wolf in another. A werewolf that has not learned to shift to all the phases available to them. As if his inner wolf was able to communicate with that of another. While there is less of a chance of him doing the same with other varieties of shifters. That chance does exist, particularly if he has the time to really train them well.




Jason knows a number of Druidic rituals and spells that he may cast. Typically those he is aware of have to do with nature and the animal kingdoms, with few exceptions. He is, ironically, despite being steeped in the ability to cause harm, quite adept at healing. Through various potions, salves, elixirs, and other means. He is able to cure various maladies and dispel a myriad of other detrimental effects. Including various poisons and diseases, even supernaturally inflicted varieties. Typically with ingredients that can be found in any wooded area.

Some other examples of spells available to him include: he is able to experience the sensory inputs of animals and sense the surroundings of plants some distance away from him when needed; animate aspects of nature that otherwise are not normally ambulatory or capable of independent movement; simulate plant and animal abilities, often with a more pronounced effect; create basic protection magics that only effect animals; influence local weather patterns often in rather extreme manners. The most impressive ritual Jason is able to cast takes several hours to prepare. However, he is able to cast all but the last bit of the spell, and then finish it sometime within the next forty eight hours. The ritual calls forth The Great Beasts from their primordial home in Pangea, a realm in the deep recesses of The Otherworld.




Jason had previously been a typical alpha werewolf. But when he slew his father and ascended to the position of Lord of the Children of the Moon, he became something more still. The alpha dominance he exhibits is remarkably powerful. A palatable force that others can feel when in his presence. Like a light pressure on the skin. As opposed to having to roar, or partially shift to activate it, he simply naturally exists in that state. Other shifters, and particularly other alphas, can naturally feel it. As can powerful beings of other species, like other "lords," for example. In fact, unless he is actively using his cloaking abilities, those capable of it will sense his alpha dominance easily even as far as up to a few hundred feet away. As this often leads to undesired company, challenges, or ridiculous displays of submission, he frequently keeps it dampened. Of course this has the added impact of making it much more impressive when he isn't bothering to. With time he could learn to do as his father did and usurp the will of other's through his gift, but as Jason greatly values freedom, particularly for werewolves, he is categorically against ever using his abilities like that.



Jason has the capacity to intuitively understand and communicate at least on an empathic level with most animal species. This ability applies to all mammals and avian species. It is less well developed in reptiles and aquatic animals, taking a moment to develop a rapport with them as opposed to the immediate one that exists in others. Particularly intelligent animals, such as whales, orca, dolphin species etc, respond much faster of course. As do predators, which recognize him as an alpha predator of the highest order. Jason can swim with sharks for example, with no concerns. Insects and arachnids have such alien minds that they prove the most challenging to reach. Though it is possible, particularly in hive minds. In such cases by reaching out to the queen, he is able to reach the entire hive. Herbivores of all sorts respond as well, but are always at least marginally flighty, as they can sense his predatory nature.

Jason's variety of lycanthropy is extraordinarily aggressive, and is present in virtually every body fluid, though particularly concentrated in several. With a single drop of blood he is able to permanently alter an animal's physiology. The act creates a bond between Jason and the animal in question. One much more powerful than the basic empathic bond he shares with all animal life. There is actual understanding, and a genuine connection as the animal is essentially awakened, altered to have a more human like sense of identity and self. Better reasoning, and a greater understanding of the world around them. Just as his lycanthropy makes a human more animal, it makes an animal more human. They also have indefinite life spans, and heal fully with uncanny speed. Animals so altered are able to communicate with him, and as they become more accustomed to the link they share, over greater ranges. They can share sensory information, and memories of things they have experienced, often at range as well.

Jason uses this network of animal companions as spies, guardians, and an early warning network. In any area he spends time he has a number of them spread out, particularly unobtrusive animals in areas of human population. Birds, squirrels, mice and the like. These awakened animals are fully able to communicate with one another also, relaying messages to him quickly over even vast areas.

However, despite the very real physical acumen of some of his animal companions. He will not use them to fight his battles. Even the particularly large species, such as bears, large cats (including a liger named Purry), and of course wolves. He is very protective of them all, and anyone that harms one of them will bring his full and complete wrath down on them. He makes a point to ensure that animal companions in other areas of the world are always well looked after in his absence, and thanks to the nemetons scattered around he often visits them or brings them with him when he moves around.



The Beast was once a terrifying prospect for Jason. He saw it as the summation of all of his anger and the pain he carried over the many slights and injuries his father had inflicted on him. Most notably the deaths of his mother and wife. It was only after his father's death that he came to understand what The Beast truly represented. It was his mother's gift to him, a vast percentage of his potential unlocked, at a far younger age than it ever could have otherwise been. As well, in a very real way, her post mortem vengeance on the cruelty of her husband. Delivered at the claws of the son she so loved.

The Beast is the current ultimate expression of Jason's wolf, though as he grows, it still does as well. His agility and resiliency to damage are about half again as strong as his Man-Wolf phase. He is able to shrug off weapons fire from anything commercially available, and even high end military weapons will typically only aggravate him. This is particularly true as his Regeneration and Blow Through Invulnerability reach their zenith in this phase, more than double that of his already prodigious Man-Wolf levels. The same is true of his scythe like claws and dagger sized fangs. With his supernatural levels of strength, and natural weapons, military grade armored vehicles can be quite literally torn through with nearly no effort at all. With a small measure of effort he could rapidly flip over and tear his way into a tank, as well as easily bite through the main gun. He is just as agile, and fast as his Man-Wolf phase, but his increased strength allows him to leap even greater distances still. At least a 150 feet into the air and 180 feet in length, with about a 50 foot gain to either with time for a short sprint before hand.

Jason's senses are as sharp as they are in his Man-Wolf phase, but his capacity to interpret them effectively lowers them to that of his Wolf-Man phase. He still is able to see in perfect darkness, and his eyes always glow either a eerie moonlight yellow, or a chilling scarlet red in this form depending on just how angry he is. In this shape the power of his alpha dominance radiates uncontrollably dialed up to 12, with nature always responding in kind. Only his cloaking power has the capacity to diminish it, and stop the otherwise violent weather patterns. He will transmit lycanthropy 100% of the time in this phase, with any bodily fluid, to new recipients or previous carriers.



Bite of the Immortal: Jason's lycanthropy, as noted elsewhere, is unprecedented in how virulent it can be. It is most concentrated in his saliva, blood, and reproductive fluids, but is present in every fluid of his body. It is capable of altering human beings, and animals, and likely far more were he to care to test it. The bite is a gift however, one he seldom grants. It is in fact so potent, that it will even have an affect on other strains of lycanthropy. Amending them, if not so much over writing them.

Jason's lycanthropy can augment the power of other wolves when it reaches their blood stream. The effects can be rather random. But typically at the minimum the wolf that receives it, usually via a bite, will find they are immortal in much the same way Jason is. Sometimes the effect is even more pronounced, such as new phasing forms, but that is more rare. The effect is not limited to only wolves either. Other varieties of shifters may become immortal with his bite as well, though seldom does it alter the ability to phase.

Over the decades Jason has employed various contacts he has made to experiment with his blood. A serum was developed from his white blood cells to prolong the lives and physical acumen of human beings while they continue to take it. It is rare that he offers it, but one human in particular has been using it for decades now, Abernathy, who looks after his holdings in many locales.



Jason's dire wolf phase looks less like a giant wolf, and more like some prehistoric nightmare wolf from some sort of fantasy game supplement. There is no chance of mistaking it as anything natural at all upon seeing it. This phase is very similar to his Man-Wolf phase, and boasts similar levels of agility, damage resiliency, senses, reaction time, rate of healing, and his blow through invulnerability. His speed is superior in this phase, topping out at somewhere around 250 MPH. Likewise his claws are less deadly, giving him better purchase on terrain. But his bite damage is equal to that of The Beast. Able to exert from 35k to 57k Newton's from the front to the back of his jaws. More than 10x that of a full grown alligator, and enough to crush the engine block of a automobile in his jaws!

The same musculature that allows him to reach such impressive land speeds limits his ability to make vertical jumps. He can Max out at about 25 feet into the air, but his horizontal leaps are on par with his Man-Wolf phase, around 150 feet long. Adding upwards of an additional 50 feet with a running start, or 100 feet at full speed. Naturally while extremely agile, and with reaction time commensurate to his speed, what he is able to manipulate with paws is far different than that of other more humanoid phases. His bodily fluids in this phase will spread lycanthropy. Both to new recipients, as well as a secondary spread of it in those whom already have a variation of it.



Human Phase: In his human phase, Jason is far from merely human. He has basic level toughness allowing him to shrug off sources of damage of basic strength or lower with only superficial injuries at most. His strength, and agility are roughly twice that of the most accomplished Olympic athletes. Making him well above average human physical acumen before he ever phases. His running speed is roughly 45 MPH. With horizontal leaps of roughly 40 feet. An additional 10 or so feet are possible with at least a brief running start. His standing vertical leap is roughly 20 feet, or up to 25 feet with a short running start. His stamina is essentially limitless, as he is regenerative in this phase as well, which keeps lactic acid from building up in his muscles. As such he can maintain peak physical performance until his brain requires sleep. Jason is also able to swim like a Gold Medal winning Olympic Athlete, which carries over into his various wolf phases. Lethal damage in this shape automatically causes him to phase to another form, typically Man-wolf.

Jason's senses are increased even in his human phase, and he is able to sense magical phenomenon, and even detect esoteric things like possession and altered states usually just by miniscule differences in scent, body language, and the like. Naturally the better he knows someone, the more familiar with them he is, the more likely that is to be true. He may see perfectly in any level of darkness, though doing so will cause his eyes to glow a faint pale yellow, like the light of the full moon. He may also track by scent, and recognize familiar scents from at least a hundred feet away, with quadruple the range while down wind. He is adept at determining if someone is lying, just from the sound of their heart beat, which he can hear up to 30 feet away clearly. His body fluids in his human phase are unable to pass lycanthropy to a subject lacking it. But it can cause a secondary manifestation in someone who already has lycanthropy in their system.



Jason's strain of lycanthropy makes those who either acquire it or are born with it effectively immortal. Though they can still be slain through injury, it is no small feat to accomplish. In Jason's case he has not aged since somewhere soon after his nineteenth birthday. His cellular structure does not suffer the damage that human beings suffer from respiration or other sources of illness or injury. He is immune to all poisons, and diseases as well. He does require respiration to remain active, but he is incapable of dying from the lack of it, and can thus can go lengthy periods without breathing, easily holding his breath for upwards of an hour, even with activity.

Jason can suffer extremes of temperature well beyond what human beings can without discomfort or loss of function. Operating in below zero weather, or temperatures of up to a skin scorching 145 degrees without discomfort. He can be frozen or burnt to a crisp however, and in the absence of the conditions that caused it, will rapidly regenerate again. Killing him through such means is not possible unless his body was absolutely vaporized immediately. Otherwise his core will continue regenerating, forming something of a calcified cocoon, until the source of the damage has past.

According to the legends of his species, they have existed since before the dawn of evolved man. Slowly evolving alongside of them, through the long centuries. Included in their bloodline over that time were such figures as Romulus and Remus, Lycaon, Gottskalk, and even Saint Christopher. The inclusion of such notables in the Lupus house is how they explain the greatest test of their immortality, spontaneous resurrection. Even if something were to kill Jason, his lycanthropic cells react to the light of the full moon, and can spontaneously resurrect him if exposed to it. Healing the source of the injury fully. For obvious reasons Jason has never felt obligated to put this particular ability to the test.

Jason was born the son of two extraordinarily gifted werewolves. His father was the then Lord of their bloodline, and had been so since roughly 8 AD. His mother, while not even close to his father's age, had a uniquely powerful gift that reached it's zenith in Jason. The gift to optimize anything she loved. As she never loved Jason's father he never benefited from it. But as she loved nothing more than her son, to her dying breath, he very much did. In no small part one of the reasons for his extraordinary power, even beyond the most gifted of his kind.

Being Immortal Jason has had plenty of time to learn much of his abilities and the world around him. He has a knack for learning new things, but more over he is unable to forget. Having been born a werewolf, his body and mind were immediately conditioned for immortality. As such he is able to recall every conscious memory, up to and including time in the womb and his own birth. Once Jason learns anything, he never forgets it.



Jason has always had a deep connection to the natural world. The flora and fauna, and even aspects of nature itself through his druidic inclinations. In Jason the controlling power of his father to dominate others is instead manifested not through control of lycanthropes, but instead a influence over nature itself. The natural world mirrors his moods and his feelings. When he is calm, the weather tends to be likewise. Gentle rains and breezes, for example. But when he grows angry, even if that emotion is not readily demonstrated, nature recognizes it. Thunder rumbles, and sudden storms and lightning are not uncommon. The wind and the rain lash out, and trees and plants seem to almost try and strike out or trip the source of his annoyance. All physical embodiments of his ire carried out by nature. Even otherwise docile animals may suddenly become more aggressive, such as domesticated dogs barking and growling, cats yowling and arching their backs. Creatures of the forest behaving with unusual aggression. When Jason growls, the earth and the sky rumble. The angrier he is, the more dramatic the response. Should he roar in this state, those conditions worsen dramatically still. The ultimate expression of his rage is a direct result of this power, and is detailed in his signature ability.



Jason's man-wolf phase is the one he typically assumes for battle. It is well suited for it, being his most deadly regularly assumed phase. He has enhanced levels of Strength, Agility, Damage Resilience, and senses. In most ways functionally similar to his wolf man phase. But each about half again as powerful now. He is capable of running at speeds approaching 200 MPH in open conditions. Only his dire wolf phase is capable of faster speeds. His agility and reaction time are similarly enhanced and with his training in martial arts coupled with this forms raw speed and agility he is a very difficult target despite his sheer size. Just how fast he moves is actually alarming to many, echoing the old "nothing so large should be able to move so fast" cliché. While able to crouch onto all fours and operate that way, he stands at nearly fourteen feet tall, with hands large enough to palm a human sized head.

Jason is able to leap vertical distances of 120 feet from a standing position, and 150 feet length wise. With upwards of 30 feet added to either if he has room to briefly sprint. His claws and fangs in this phase, coupled with his impressive strength, are able to rend through alloys as strong as stainless steel, and even score incredibly hard to damage alloys like maraging or carbon steel. Composite body armor of the types worn by military and law enforcement is rent through like a butter knife through Jell-O.

His Regenerative capacity and thus his Blow Through Invulnerability, are substantially stronger in this form. Even damage from higher ordinance explosives heal with such speed that he barely seems slowed down. With his increased strength, only very concentrated, very skilled, or very lucky gun fire has any real chance to slow his advance.

His sensory abilities in this phase are the slightly better than that of his Wolf-Man phase. Showing only about a twenty five percent improvement on ranges and sensitivity, as he becomes more animal than man now. He is still able to see perfectly in any darkness, no matter how intense. Also in this form his bodily fluids will pass on lycanthropy, both to those who have never had it, and altering the lycanthropy of those that have.



Jason's phasing into his wolf forms has a psychological impact on those that witness it. Specifically those not awakened to the world of the supernatural, or at least open minded enough to accept the potential that it might exist. It can cause them to have small psychotic breaks. The inability to accept that what they are seeing could possibly exists in the world they know. So it is replaced with something in their mind that can exist. No matter how ridiculous or inconsistent with the surroundings the new memory might be. The Baby Bear in the mall attacked that guy with glitter all over him, I saw it all!

Only a small percentage of people with exceptional willpower or other similar traits will see him as he really is when he shifts, and they are not always happy that they can afterwards. This same effect applies to those that are unawakened that see him in any phase other than human or wolf. The sight of it is far to much for their mind's to take, most will flee openly, others will pass out from fright. Hardened soldiers or first responders may be able to cope, but even the vast majority of them will not be able to recall exactly what they saw, as above.



Jason was born with a special ability, as were many of his brothers and sisters. An ability that in many ways shaped his early life. Without it, and how early it developed, he might have avoided his father's interest until much later. Instead he became his father's favorite child, his assassin, his enforcer, and in the end his killer and successor. The Lord of the Children of the Moon.

When Jason sets his mind to the act of hunting or stalking a target. He is capable of becoming undetectable. He can selectively cloak his presence from specific awareness, sensory input, electronic surveillance, psychic, and even magical detection at his whim and discretion. His aura, and anything he is holding is likewise cloaked in whatever manner he chooses to be. In essence he is able to cloak himself from any power, sense, or ability that enables one to sense his presence. Once he felt that this was a simple but powerful cloaking effect, that disguised his presence. That however was never really the case.

When Jason makes up his mind to activate his gift, he shunts himself slightly out of phase with reality, as if he occupied a place between the various realities themselves. Not a place so much as the lack of one, and so the perfect place to hide. Given that it exists only for, and indeed because of, him. He is able to interact with other people and objects from this place between places, but is unable to be detected himself. Even when he touches something or someone, or inflicts an injury on them. They will feel the pain from the wound, but only after he is no longer physically in contact with them. His gift starts to fade once a held object is several feet from him, so thrown shuriken, blades, or even arrows or bullets may suddenly materialize after they have been thrown or fired from his cloak. The ability is selective as well, He can make himself heard as a disembodied voice, or partially seen as a inky black shadow within a shadow. The casual brush of claws across someone or the hot breath awash over the back of the neck. All very good ways to intimidate and manipulate.

Against ordinary senses, Jason's ability is absolute. As even the most enhanced of the five basic senses can not see into neighboring dimensions, much less the space between them. However in the rare event someone with an active ability that allowed them to sense something so specific was to look, Jason would seem as if he was under a strobe light that affected all the senses. As his power continually tried to shift him away from their ability to detect him, and they kept managing to detect him again. Flickering maddeningly in and out of existence, like a horror movie ghost special effect. Jason's son Sly passes through the same space between worlds as he activates his power as well, and thus fittingly is the only person that can fully interact with him as he so chooses when Jason activates his gift.



Jason is inherently harder to harm than mere human beings. Even when he appears human, he is far more durable than one, afforded by his supernatural nature, muscle density and the like. However in several of his wolf phases he also has a special variety of invulnerability, brought on as a result of his resiliency and regeneration. More of a Blow Through Invulnerability than the classic sense of the word. Injuries that harm him grievously, even through his resistance to such, tend to heal so rapidly and so completely that it gives the illusion that he was not hurt at all. The only telling indicator that any harm was even inflicted is the blood and gore that tends to spray and fountain from such damage.

For example, automatic weapon fire might paint the wall behind him in blood and flesh, riddling him with holes, yet he would hardly be slowed be slowed down as it heals just as quickly as the injuries are inflicted. An attack that managed to blow off a portion of his head might see him stagger as the injury healed in mere seconds, before he just continued charging at the shooter. Damage from elemental sources heals with much the same efficiency. Though like all animals he has an inherent dislike of being threatened by fire or flames. It tends to annoy him quickly. Magical damage largely depends on the effect of the magic. Though as a supernatural, magic using creature, with excessive willpower. He is something of a challenging target for magical or purely mental effects. As well as utterly immune to any attempts to alter his physical form against his desires. His natural abilities combat that and simply shift him back faster than any magic can take hold to change him.

It is worth noting that despite the difficulty in harming him with things like machine gun fire and even explosives, he is not immune to being flung about by such high powered attacks. Even braced for machine gun fire, he could not avoid being driven back by it in all but his most powerful phases. Grenades, and their like are sure to send him flying. Even if he lands fully healed, unharmed, and likely more than a little peeved.

Of note, blood and physical bodily matter separated from him retains his lycanthropic qualities for only minuscule moments. So much so that a bullet passing through him and then striking someone else, would only have the most minute chance of infecting them with lycanthropy as well. Special magical or ritualistic means are required to maintain the viability of the lycanthropy once it is separated from him in this manner. As a result analysis of the remains left do not test as anything more than unusual by scientific methods. Supernatural methods, are of course another matter.



In addition to his flawless memory, Jason demonstrates immaculate and nigh unassailable willpower. Having grown to adulthood resisting the power of his father, and empowered with the strength of his mother's love, Jason's mental resolve and willpower grew strong enough to resist his father's supposedly irresistible power of domination. Even when he is not using his cloaking abilities to simply hide from attacks against his mental resolve, they typically only give him at most a headache, and thus a source of irritation.



Jason demonstrates Enhanced levels of Strength, Agility, Regeneration, Resiliency, and Senses in this phase. His body is resilient enough to suffer damage from enhanced sources with little apparent injury in this phase. He is capable of running speeds of upwards of 100-120 MPH, without substantial less of his agility. His reaction time is similarly enhanced allowing him to dodge projectiles with little to no trouble, and coupled with his martial training, semi-automatic weapon fire with moderate effort. From a standing position he is able to leap upwards of 90 feet, in either length or height. Another 20 feet is possible with at least a short run before hand. His claws in this phase are powerful enough to puncture materials such as dense stone and concrete, and score harder metal surfaces.

Jason is able to see in the dark, and demonstrates the various sensory abilities he is capable of in his human phase, but the intensity of his senses is substantially increased. His visual clarity is akin to a bird of prey in this phase, allowing him to focus on objects up to a mile away with the ability to make out facial features and other details. His sense of hearing is roughly quadruple that of his human phase, allowing him to hear sounds as low as a fully relaxed human heart beat upwards of 120 feet away. But the largest gain is in his olfactory sense. He is able to track by scent over ranges of nearly a hundred miles, and detect scents up to 200 hours old in this phase. His bodily fluids in this phase will pass on lycanthropy to subjects that are lacking it, or cause a secondary manifestation in those currently with it. This is the first phase in which he demonstrates his Blow Through Invulnerability defense as well. From a distance, in this phase Jason could pass as a rather bulky human. An illusion that the proper clothing, like a trench coat, can help to maintain until someone is close enough to see his face, hands, or feet. All of which would of course far to bestial to pass as human.



Wolf: Jason's wolf phase looks like a black wolf of unusually large size, but nothing so large as to seem beyond what might be found in nature. For those well versed in such matters, he appears as a European wolf. This phase is naturally the one closest to the soul of the wolf, and as such it has some unique senses unavailable in other phases. In addition to the natural senses, which are equal to that of his Dire-Wolf phase, this form is able to detect things like natural disasters, incorporeal presences, possession or loss of faculties, and illnesses in others.

Though to all appearances Jason's wolf phase is a normal animal, it of course is nothing of the kind. He is able to reach speeds comparable to that of his Wolf-Man phase, about 115 MPH or so, and leap about 60 feet lengthwise and 20 feet in height. His bodily fluids in this phase seldom transmit lycanthropy to one without it, but can cause a secondary infection in those with it currently. Jason's wolf phase is capable of healing at accreted speeds, much akin to when he appears human. However this phase is without benefit of his Blow Through Invulnerability. Any potentially lethal damage will see him phase immediately in response, typically to Dire-Wolf. However this phase does still have exceptional physical resistance, somewhat more so than when he is human. As well as similar levels of strength, and agility. His claws are not very useful as weapons in this phase, but his bite is more than powerful enough to shatter a concrete block, much less bone.




Abernathy Aloysius Hobson has been Jason's majordomo, manservant, and steward for approaching 65 years. His family has served Jason for just over a century, and from the time he was a child, Abernathy was raised to know Jason would be his charge. Abernathy has several children, and had been grooming his son to take over for him from an early age. However, when the breakthrough was made with Jason's white blood cells to prolong human life, Abernathy became the first to be offered and to use the extract. While appearing to be a man in his late seventies, Abernathy has the physical acumen and mental clarity of one in his early thirties thanks to the extract he now regularly takes. When Abernathy makes a call, there is no question it is done at Jason's behest, and typically it is treated as such. Likewise those attempting to reach Jason usually have to go through Abernathy first. Jason trusts him on a level reserved for very few in his life, a the man would go to his grave many times over and burn eternally in lakes of flame before ever betraying him. Abernathy and his wife who also uses the elixir, live a very comfortable life, as Jason pays them very handsomely. Their six children live in various places around the globe, with four of them living in the United States, and two overseas.



It's a very big world, and even in 420 years of traveling. Jason has hardly seen a scant fraction of it. But he has certainly done more than his fair share of traveling. In particular, some areas more extensively than others. Most of the major cities in different areas of the world where he has learned to blend in, and speak fluently for example. These are regions he is vert well versed in. Much of the east and west coasts of the United States, for example are very well known to him. Such that he always seems to know where he is, and what direction to go to get where he wishes to be. This is especially true when also factoring in his survival skills. He always tends to know a nice hole in the wall restaurant. Know people in the area that owe him a few favors. As well as know who to go to in order to procure things that might be exceptionally rare or questionable things to own or procure.



Jason carries with him routinely, or has fairly ready access to a number of debilitating or outright deadly objects. He routinely carries small canisters that appear to be pepper spray but in fact have vampire venom in them. Lethal to humans naturally, but also momentarily debilitating to vampires when sprayed in the eyes. Likewise he carries shuriken coated with venom. Even a nick from one will set a human beings blood on fire as the venom spreads. Through druidic means he has limited the toxicity of the venom so that they can be used to kill, or merely debilitate through excruciating pain. He also tends to carry varying Druidic salves, elixirs, and potions tailored to specific goals that he will prepare in advance when he knows he has something challenging in the offing.

In addition to the more mystical gear, Jason has a love of spy style gear as well. Prototype car planes, submersible cars, or boat cars. Hidden cameras in everything from briefcases to tie tacks. Explosive cuff links and plastic explosive gum. Drones with rockets. Cigarettes with poison powder. Wingsuits and jetpacks. He desperately wants a motorcycle that can become a helicopter, something about a cartoon in the 1980s. The closest things technologically possible to a James Bond movie, Jason likes to have access to. To that end he has a number of sources



Jason was one of those lucky ones. Those that hit the genetic lottery. Gaining the best traits possible seemingly from both his mother and his father. Naturally his capacity to have a gift was one such boon. But the combination of Spanish and Romanian blood, with the best features from both of his parents also made him quite exotic looking. He is quite capable of turning heads even with his natural intimidation blazing. He is the 'bad boy' looks wise, that everybody has someone warn them about in life. But whom everybody seems to want anyway. However those same exotic looks that so easily seduce and entice other people. They also speak volumes to those that know what to look for regarding his supernatural nature.



Jason is for all intents and purposes fearless. He has a certain respect for other alpha level predators to be sure. But he has no true fear of them. Those attempting to incite fear in him are more than likely to just piss him off. It is simply not in his personality make up to experience genuine fear. No matter if the source of that fear is mundane, like a fellow supernatural being. Or if it is a more supernatural effect based on a power or spell for example. He is simply not vulnerable to any sort of fear effect.



When Illyana was murdered by his father Jason believed he would be alone forever after that. After all, no woman could ever replace the one he had lost. Which as it turned out was true, just not in the way Jason would have predicted. Jason did indeed find new love, with Jacob Black, and thus no woman was able to replace what he had lost, a man did instead. Jason was no stranger to intimacy with another male, much of his formative years were spent with nothing but. Likewise one of the oldest tricks in the espionage handbook was seduction, and it seldom mattered what gender when you had a job to do.

Jason had originally meant to use Jacob, and through him the Quileute tribe, as a weapon in the war against his father. But when Jacob imprinted on him, that all began to change, rapidly. In a short period of time Jason gave up on that ambition, and in the days just before becoming the Lord of the Children of the Moon, he embraced the growing feelings for Jacob that he had. Now their relationship is strong, and Jason is an ally to Jacob's pack and they to him. Rarely do either the Black pack or Jason take the field without the other close at hand.



Jason's mother had a special gift. One passed down through the females of her family line. They had the ability to unconsciously optimize things they came into contact with. Their gardens were always the brightest and most fully bloomed. Their weaving always the best and most lasting quality. Their children always the strongest and healthiest. Jason's mother was both a werewolf as well as Romani. This power was her Romani gift. It still passes through the woman of her bloodline to this day. Jason's unusual potency comes in no small part thanks to his pure bloodline, further enhanced through his mother's gift. One which continues even to this day to impact him as he continues to grow.



Jason has many contacts he may call on. Many cultivated over the course of many human life times. Some of them are long lived as well. Others he maintains contacts with families that he may call on in times of need. Old blood debts and ties reaching back generations. Sometimes they call on him though as well. Political favors, information, special items or gear, counsel, identification, entertainment, and various other favors. He has contacts in a number of fields, all carefully developed over the years. He is also always looking for new people that he may call on later for such assistance. There are few occasions in which he doesn't 'know a guy' that could help.

Jason is likewise very, very wealthy. Thanks both to many years of life with the accruement of wealth over it. As well as many jobs (AKA government and private contracts) he has taken in the last near century to build up his own personal wealth. The wealth is of course spread out among a number of false names, identities, and bank accounts all across the world. But all told he is worth well over the gross national product of more than a few nations of the planet. There are few places he can't get into with his money if he was so inclined. While he is also quite capable of living in the wilds comfortably. It is not for lack of a number of places to call home if he wishes. He has at his disposal private planes, many cars and motorcycles, and at least six public addresses in the United States under various names and identities. To say nothing of those 'off the grid' so to speak.

In the supernatural world he is also rather well known. This can be both good as well as bad. The new werewolf lords reputation often proceeds him, as news can travel fast in the world of the supernatural where shadows really do talk. It can afford him a significant measure of respect. But it can also create enemies in a new location, often before he is fully aware that such exist.



Jason has been been unwavering in his focus and training for a very long time. The skills and the abilities he has, they are all backed with centuries of practical usage and improvement. His martial arts, for example, is expert ranked. But he is an expert in multiple forms and all the various weapons, philosophies, and training associated with them. So much so that he fuses them routinely into new forms to deal with different combat situations. This is true of all of his skills unless noted. He is an expert at adapting things he knows how to do, in order to better fit those skills to a situation or a problem. Likewise the many years he has spent adapting and learning new things has certainly made him every bit the accomplished student as he is teacher. He learns quickly, and competently and retains all that he is instructed in.



Despite being a supernatural creature, Jason has quite the fascination with science. While he has no real talent with it himself, he does pay a number of others that do. One area he enjoys funding are fringe sciences, where science and the supernatural nearly meet. To that end he has long had trusted men and women, people he has paid to educate for example, experimenting with small samples of his blood. Though they have only scratched the surface, they were able to synthesize a formula from his white blood cells that retards the aging process in human beings without passing on lycanthropy. In some ways similar to what Jason's blood does for animals, if to a lesser extent. Referred to simply as 'The Elixir' Jason makes certain to keep it on hand for the few human beings in his life he finds indispensable.




Black mountain ash is a very common alchemical ingredient. Originally an old Druidic trick to ward creatures of a supernatural nature, a ring of black mountain ash creates a barrier creatures of the supernatural can seldom pass. Only the most powerful can traverse it, and then the act of doing so can leave them physically weakened for the effort. Naturally there are ways around such barriers among the Druid's recipes and tricks. Given the act of passing through such a barrier can even leave him weakened, Jason prefers finding other ways. So, at the very least such a barrier will typically impede and delay him, potentially for quite some time if he lacks the components to effectively dispel it with a ritual and does not desire to be weakened by forcing the issue.



Jason likes to be in a position where he is in control of the playing field. Situations where he is manipulating the outcome to his liking or at least knows how it is all going to end up. When he isn't, he is uncomfortable and striving to get ahead of things and be in control. If he even feels anyone is within three steps of his lead, he redoubles his efforts to stay ahead. Situations where he is unable to be, or where others are attempting to contest that, tend to make him testy. He isn't truly content to be owning the chessboard against someone else. He prefers to be making his moves and manipulating his enemies moves both before he is really content.



Jason has a few lingering issues with his father, even after killing him. Being a domineering psychopath that murdered his mother, kicked him out of a castle window, and killed his wife and almost his son. Things like that tend to produce some issues. His father was a very dominate and domineering figure in his life, and that lingering hostility has outlived him. Those that remind him of his father, particularly if they attempt to be dominate, or domineering towards him. They are seldom well received. Despite having immortal patience this type of personality strips it away a like a cheese grater over fresh mozzarella. Prolonged exposure to someone with an alpha personality behaving that way seldom tends to end well for them.



Once upon a time Jason had nothing but disdain for human beings and vampires. But his time in Forks, and his experiences since coming there have started to soften his views. He still has a lingering level of disdain for human beings and vampires, but believe it or not, this is progress. He also has as a deep distrust of 'demons' colored by his time in Japan and experiences with Oni.

While certainly capable of respecting individuals over species, and for that matter respecting over all capability in the case of allies. Jason still has a tendency to consider humans beneath notice or consideration at times. That is of course unless they prove themselves otherwise. Renowned hunters of the supernatural would not be dismissed in the same way as a womanizing Hollywood executive. Vampires are typically ignored, unless they prove he should pay attention to them. That could go either way depending on how they make that point. He will either try and summarily kill them. Or become somewhat fascinated with them, and want to find out what makes them so interesting. Demons he has the dimmest view on, after a number of his childhood friends perished fighting Oni centuries ago. His starting opinion of demons, and really all Outsiders as well, tends to be one of simmering hostility. This can be mitigated by circumstances, and the opinions of allies. But overall he has not yet met any members of those species that have changed his mind.



Jason dislikes it when strangers presume uninvited or unwanted upon his personal space. Much less when the same people actually deign to touch him. It is simply very poor manners to touch a Lord without his expressed permission to do so. It really doesn't have a dramatic effect, save that it tends to irritate him. More so with more offenses. Of course over irritating a werewolf lord can come with it's own risks.



As a result of them waiting nearly a century to return his son, as well as the mischief of some fae he has known, Jason has something of a bit of a lack of patience with the fae. This is unfortunately a source of much amusement for them typically, and they know largely just how far they can push. Making sure to often take it right to the line, before they allow him to cool off. One fae in particular who introduces himself as Archibald "Archie" Rupert Willasey takes delight in making Jason jump through hoops for things as simple as entrance into the realm of Fae. Making him sing songs as payment for anything he wishes. Sometimes appearing with bits of gossip, or some delightful item to tease or tantalize Jason with. But always making sure that he has tormented Jason adequately before offering it.



Jason has his pride, and he dislikes being goaded into things. It is true, he is not one to lose his cool easily. Nor is the reaction when he does typically disproportionate to the offense. But if a person preys on one of his other flaws, he can be goaded into actions he might otherwise not take. Usually, humorously, it is over the minor things more so than the major that provoke such a response. Of course goading a werewolf lord is really seldom that wise a thing to do.



Jason does indeed have exotic looks as detailed above. He is unusually attractive, in a way that seems to scream he is dangerous and yet still draws people in. However to a trained hunter who knows what to look for they can see what he is on sight. His werewolf traits are so strong they bleed over to his human phase. His unnaturally colored eyes, naturally sharp finger nails, index finger longer than his middle finger, enhanced physical acumen, and elongated teeth. All traits which mark him easily and readily as a powerful lycanthrope. Since becoming a werewolf lord these traits are even more identifiable. Jason radiates a certain powerful supernatural tell now, such that even ordinary people have a sense that he is something that doesn't quite fit into their world comfortably.



Jason became Lord of the Werewolves when he slew his father. The seat of their power is in the mountains of Romania, but Jason spends his time in Washington state in the U.S. As a result Jason's brother acts as steward, and in matters of the day to day he tends to the court. Only when there is a matter of some significance does Jason use the nemeton network to travel to Romania. It is rare, but it does occur as he has that responsibility to his people.

Becoming a Lord through such means also marks him as having had a violent ascension. It makes him something of a target for those that would like to take what he has taken. To say nothing of some hunters that might like to remove such a powerful figure in the world of the supernatural. It is also worth noting that with the sheer number of breeds of werewolves, many fail to even recognize him as lord, even if they have heard that he has ascended to the position.



The loss of his mother at an early age and then his wife much later had a lasting impact on Jason, as one might expect. He is always loathe to harm women, though he won't hesitate to if he must. However small, petite women and motherly figures tend to give him the most pause. If they are threatening someone or something he cares about, he will not hesitate. But if the threat is a more personal one he may hesitate longer than he should. Strong women also do not evoke his hostility response that more dominant men do. Meaning he may tolerate them somewhat longer as well.



Jason was raised a prince, and is now the very Lord of the Children of the Moon. As such he has certain rules he holds himself to in polite situations. While he often engages in breaking and entering, he is no thief. Likewise when asked into someone's home he makes every effort to behave accordingly, respecting the sanctity there of. He tries to afford strangers hospitality if it is asked for and does not presume overly upon him, which given his resources would take some doing. Naturally all of this and more is predicated on a polite situation. If he is engaged in some mission, or aspect there of, all bets may well be off. Or if he is engaging a known enemy. Then the ninja comes out and he will seek any advantage possible. But otherwise he makes a true effort to live up to being a Lord.



Roberte "Sly" Lupus: For nearly a century Jason believed that his father and his older brother had slain his wife and newborn son. That was in fact partially true, as his father did slay Jason's wife Illyana. But his son Roberte had been spirited away by the fae, and only recently returned to Jason. Sly, as he is now known, is much older now. Nearly as old as Jason is himself, physically. But this is still the son, the child, he lost in Jason's mind. As a result he tends to be somewhat a trifle over protective. A slight or a particularly inept attack against Jason will likely be met with an eyeroll and disdain. The slightest appearance of hostility against his son on the other hand, will result in blood and screaming. Probably in that order.



The Beast was once a terrifying monster that Jason feared loosing on those around him. An uncontrollable rage monster that would not distinguish friend from foe. But that all changed after Jason slew his father and ascended to the position of Lord of the Werewolves. Jason gained control over The Beast, and with that control access to the current full measure of his strength and abilities. At least insofar as they pertain to being a werewolf.

However the form comes with some limitations as well. The first is simply one of logistics, as The Beast is massive in stature at sixteen feet tall, taller than an average man even when on all fours. Most indoor areas are ill suited to a creature of those types of proportions. It is also, predictably unsubtle. The Beast radiates Jason's lord of nature power dialed up until the speaker's explode. The weather always alters when The Beast is unleashed, as nature is likewise moved to rage. Jason also tends to be less subtle as a result, only using his nightstalking for example as a last resort, as opposed to something he tends to otherwise lead with. Overall The Beast is a tank, and when Jason assumes that phase it is for the soul purpose of destroying anything between him and a goal. As this is not his usual style, it is a phase of last resort or utter and complete rage.



Jason has a bit of a temper when it comes to those that would despoil nature. Animal cruelty or abuse in his presence is a sure way to tempt a ticket to what Jason believes is a special place in Hell. By way of a lengthy stay in an I.C.U. as he would be certain to make it hurt. But really even just unscrupulous strip mining, clear cutting, pollution, or anything that causes substantial harm to the environment is going to see his ire aroused. He spends a lot of money annually working to shut such businesses down. Though often if the offense is egregious enough, he will take a more direct hand in seeing them fail.



Aconitum, long connected through history to the werewolf. A highly poisonous plant that can kill within hours when ingested. As with most poisons and diseases Jason is quite immune to its lethal qualities. However, that is not to say it does not have a pronounced effect on him. Simply put, it has a narcotic effect on him. Wolfsbane makes the big bad wolf mellow, and somewhat toothless. It gets him high as a kite, potentially for hours depending on how much is ingested. Give his nature to be in control, it goes without saying. He utterly hates that feeling, and avoids it at all costs. If exposed to it and in the presence of mind to do so. He will drop everything to try and devise a druidic antidote. He truly just hates the feeling that much.

My mother was one of the few of my father's brides to be a werewolf prior to meeting him. She was one of the 'special breed', one of us born with a gift. I was born with a gift, as well. It wasn't terribly unusual given both my mother and father had them. In my case, it served me well, manifesting as it did at a very early age. My father took to calling me his Night Stalker, for two reasons. My hair was jet black, as black as the night, like my mother's. But more so because when I was stalking my prey, nothing could find me. Oh there were limits to it, I could still be seen if you were looking directly at me, making eye contact. But no other senses, or even gifts among my father's court, could find me when I chose not to be found.

My mother kept me out of the politics of my father's court for almost the first decade I was alive. My younger brother Roberte was protected by her as well after his mother died in child birth. But after my power manifested, there was nothing she could do. I went to bed one night, my mother's face hovering above me. That was the last time I ever saw her.

In retrospect my mother did me no kindness insulating me from my father's court. When she disappeared in the night, I was quite literally thrown into the deep end. Without it being my actual intention though, I shielded Roberte just as my mother had before me. If only because my father, and thus my older siblings, were far more interested in me. Roberte was just another one of my father's many children, and very much beneath his notice.

My siblings moved against me often enough that it became something of a routine. They would come for me, or plot some truly epic demise, I'd escape from them. Early on my gift kept me safe enough, just using it to avoid them when I was their target. But as time passed, I started to use it for my own gain. I wasn't content just learning the rules of the jungle. I became set on becoming lord of the jungle.

My gift made me an excellent spy. I started following them, learning their habits. Learning their secrets and alliances. From there it was simple to play them against one another. They walked a razor's edge between open hostility and all out war, and that was a state my father seemed to have little interest in changing. I gave him a reason to think otherwise.

It took nearly no time at all really, to cause an all out war. The right ears hearing the right things. Some planted evidence and knowing where certain people would be at certain times. Once I had decided to do it, it took me less then a year to destroy most of my older brothers and sisters just by playing them against each other. Not bad for nine years old, but then kids always know how to make each other look bad. Especially in order to get the praise of a parent. Some are just better than others at it. Me, I truly excelled.

My father ultimately stepped in to stop the war, though he was truly impressed. But he wasn't entirely happy either. The war I had started resulted in a dramatic reduction in my father's bloodline. That time marked three firsts for me. The first time my father actually praised me. The first time my father without restraint beat me. And the first I heard of my father having a mission, his crusade. I was apparently going to be a big part of it, I just needed to be molded first. Something he was going to take a hand in personally from then on.

He had been impressed with how I used my abilities prior to even my first change. But he was also intent on seeing me use them as more than just a spy. He wanted me as his assassin. To that end he tested me, I was to 'poison' my older brother Valleri with wolf's bane. Valleri was my father's favorite son, by doing this I was certain to take that spot from him, and certainly earn his lasting enmity in the process. I did so with out a moment's hesitation. It was a small price to pay for my father's affection after all.

It was actually rather easy with the skills I had already learned. My eldest brother was a light sleeper, a survival trait in our family. But he did still need to sleep sometime. Hiding in his room, I simply waited for him to go to bed. The guards outside of his room never knew I was there, and neither did he. Then I scrambled along the rafters and lowered a piece of waxed thread down to just above his mouth. You have to slowly allow the droplets of liquid to slide down the thread when poisoning someone, patience is a virtue. But Valleri even helped out by licking his lips. Very considerate of him really.

The wolf's bane did it's work, drugging him and sending him on a inebriated rampage through our mutual home. He really made something of an ass out of himself, doing significant damage to his reputation in the process. When it came out that I had been the one to drug him, in his own room no less, his reputation suffered significantly more with our remaining family. My father was very impressed yet again. But the skills I was going to need to refine my natural talent I couldn't learn in Romania alone. I was 10 years old when I was sent to Japan, to learn to kill more effectively.

My father was ancient, and for many years had been a recluse. But he had cultivated certain contacts and maintained them, as befitted a royal family. Ancient lineages and contracts with other very old families had their uses. In the 1600's Japan was going through a period of change. Expanding commercial contacts with the west, the Portuguese, Spanish and the Dutch and English. Even the defacto rulers of Japan, the samurai, didn't remain unaltered. They changed from becoming a military class to that of a bureaucratic class. But in the shadows, things stayed as they were. That was where my father had contacts. That was where I would learn the ways of the shinobi, the ninja.

I arrived in Japan at the close of a turbulent time. The country was at peace for the first prolonged stretch in nearly a century. The Edo period beginning around 1581 marked the end of the need for the skills the shinobi possessed. In this time of peace, the ninja was no longer needed. But it did not mark the end of the ninja. Those skills and teachings would carry on and survive through the ages.

My jonin was famous among his peers for an act of defiance in 1600. Sneaking through a group of Tokugawa's defenders at Hataya castle, he planted the flag of the besieging army high on the front gate. I would never know his name, nor was it required. He was simply my jonin, and I was just one more genin in his ryu, hidden away in the mountains of Kii. If not for the documents I carried, I would never have been accepted. I was deemed to old to teach effectively. Yet, when I was accepted, I quickly prove my worth. At 11 years old I began training. I learned quickly, and well the lessons presented to me.

There were eight methods taught in the ryu. Body skills, karate, spear fighting, staff fighting, blade-throwing, use of fire and water, fortification and strategy, and concealment. I was young but my gift made me an unparalleled master of concealment. Just the same I learned methods to remain hidden even without it. But that was hardly the only thing I learned. Throwing myself into all of my studies with a ravenous desire to learn, to become the assassin my father wished me to be..

By the time I was 19, I was long since chunin. But with skills in some areas that would allow me to open my own ryu if I so chose. But I had no interest in being a jonin, in passing the skills I had learned onto others. Instead I resolved to continue learning still more from others. To truly be a master, but of many techniques and forms rather than one. It was on a simple mission to seek out information that I decided I would ask for permission from my jonin to leave the ryu and travel the world.

The discipline I had learned studying helped me keep my rage in check. In all the years I studied with my jonin I had never changed, despite long since feeling I was capable of doing so. I knew what I was, I had seen others in my father's court assume the various phases of the wolf. But I had found no need to phase. I had found no human my equal in years now. However, when I returned to the ryu, that changed.

Returning to the mountains of kii, the ryu was destroyed. Burnt to the ground, with the remains of the army that had done so picking though the remains. Years before war-lord Oda Nobunaga had attacked the power base of the shinobi at Iga and Koga, believing their strongholds their to be a threat. Now the consequences of those battles had found their way to the mountains.

Part of me would like to say I resisted the savage, blood thirsty need to kill those men. That I fought them with the very skills of those they had slaughtered as opposed to giving into the nature of the beast within. But I didn't. The anger was over whelming and I made no attempt to resist it. The tears in my eyes over the sense of loss I felt were hot. The blood I tasted, their blood, moments later. That was far hotter, and far more satisfying. They screamed, they tried to fight, they ran for their lives. But ultimately, to a man they bled and they died. They believed me to be an oni, a demon. They were wrong, of course, I was no demon. I was a werewolf, though for them, I was nothing less than death itself.

I wandered after that, staying true to my goals of learning. My father grew impatient with me over the years, waiting for my return. But he was immortal, so while he did not precisely care to exercise patience very often, he was capable of it. Not to mention finding me, especially now, was not so easy a task. He waited very patiently for the next dozen years, as I refined my mastery of ninjitso with the study of other techniques and styles. For the next 84 years though, he pretty much hunted me regularly across Japan, China, most of Asia, and Europe as I continued my studies. I also continued to phase regularly in that time. Exulting in the power, learning the phases I knew existed, and slowly mastering them. By the time my father would lay eyes on me again I would be able to flow fluidly through the various guises of the wolf. But that was not the only thing to change.

Time hardened me, I saw how the world was changing, how humanity was changing, and I was glad to be apart from it. At least until a chance encounter in Europe. There I encountered a cabal of druids. They revered nature, and new many secrets of the natural world. Secrets I desired to learn as well. But staying in one place also made it impossible to go overly long without being found. Though I wished to remain longer to know more of their secrets, I was compelled through discovery to return home.

In the year 1704 I returned to my father's court in Romania. I was over a 110 years old now, but didn't look any older then I had in my late teens. Though my father was pleased to see me, others were not so much. It had taken Valleri many years to live down his embarrassment at my hands, and now I was back to remind everyone of it once again. The night of my arrival he coerced several newer members of my father's court into trying to assassinate me in my bed. These were no siblings, my father had stopped that after the war I had started. I left their heads in a bag hanging outside of Valleri's window. I was my father's assassin, his killer, his general. All he had been I now was, and the sooner Valleri understood that, the better.

For all I had learned over the century I had been alive, there were many things I did not know about my own world. My kind, are violent by nature. But we are also immortal. Though it was rare, some of our kind were simply ill fit to a life of conflict. Often they simply died, unable or unwilling to properly defend themselves. However in my father's court they sometimes became the scholars, the keepers of the history. They were my next teachers.

From them I learned the lore of my kind. Much of it I knew, such as the phases of the wolf I had mastered in my time away. But there was much I did not know, and that knowledge I devoured. For my father wished that I should know it, and so I would. With my interest in druidism discovered, I was schooled in deeper secrets of their order. Learning that many werewolf packs cultivated relationships with druids. Relationships that were mutually beneficial to both groups. My father had long since abandoned such in our home. But my teachers knew of those that could teach me still. I also learned much about the history of my family, and how it connected to another topic. Vampires.

Long ago my father had two brothers. One was never spoken of, having suffered from a rare condition where he was lost to his wolf. He had been taken to a primeval forest far from our ancestral home and released into the wood to live out his existence. His other brother was named Alexi. He was to be the king of our house, groomed for it for since birth. Around 490 BC he fought a powerful vampire, named Caius. The origin, the reasons for the fight were lost, as ultimately was my uncle's life. Caius himself was nearly slain as well, leading to him developing a paralyzing fear of my kind, of werewolves. A fear that would ultimately lead to a war between the species when Caius' coven, The Volturi, rose to power over the vampires.

It was a slight my father would never forget, nor forgive. He took the reigns to our family after my grandfather abdicated to him. He took our family into hiding even as the war began. Planning his vengeance for my uncle, and for every werewolf that fell to their war against us. My father would launch his own crusade in retaliation, when he was ready. I had inadvertently delayed that, manipulating the events that lead to the slaughter of so many of my siblings. But in me my father felt he had found a general to lead the pack that he would form to kill our enemies. It was a mission I accepted without hesitation. A choice I would come to regret.

For another 84 years, I performed as the good soldier. Teaching my father's army much of what I had learned. I particularly trained Roberte, taking him as my pupil and teaching him most of what I had learned in the ryu I first learned at. I would lead strike teams to kill vampire covens using the stealth techniques of my ninja masters. We fought a shadow war, always staying hidden from our enemies. More rumor and nightmares then anything like a fact. Our actions attributed to rival covens and nomads among our vampire enemies. Through our actions many fables were created among the vampires, myths about our kind and weaknesses we wished them to believe existed. We enjoyed great success, but not every victory was a clean one.

We had begun traveling far abroad in our strikes, even as far as the American south west. Vampires had been especially busy there for many years, creating armies and battling for territory. Those with me were veterans of many conflicts, we created much dissension between rival covens and sent many vampires to their final deaths there. I learned first hand the sheer power the new born vampires have, as many of them were created and used like weapons in the deep south. But most of all I learned to respect my enemy.

Like us, many of the vampires we encountered had special abilities which made them even more dangerous than their kind usually was. In an encounter with a coven made up almost entirely of such special leeches, my strike group was wiped out. My own ability allowed me to escape, with a new found grudging respect for the blood suckers.

Returning home after such a loss was difficult. My father's rage was palpable, almost madness it seemed. That was the second, and ultimately the last time he would beat me as a father would a child. He brooded for several weeks after that. Before coming upon a new way to wage his war. He would find those humans that displayed psychic talents and take them, turning them into werewolves. Stacking the deck in much the way that our enemy did. That then was my new mission. To search for human beings with psychic potential to turn into werewolves.

I had seen much of the world in my travels. But this new mission for my father took me to places I had never been. One of those places was to visit an Indian tribe in the American north west. I had heard persistent legends while traveling of giant wolves that haunted the rain swept coastal forests there. There I found the tribe, with whom I remained for over a year. I was something new to them, but of the wolf. This much they knew. There was no giant wolves there then, but I learned of their history, their people and their legends. Some of it sounded very similar to legends of my own people, my own family. The Quileutes would leave a mark on me, which would not surface again for many years to come.

For 129 years I searched the world for my father. Bringing him human beings with special abilities. The advent of faster means of travel by those oh so industrious humans made my work simpler sometimes. But even so my success rate was still lower than I would have liked. Often I came into conflict with vampires still, but by now I had hunted and killed them so long I knew when to fight and when not to. Those I encountered alone, rarely lived through the encounter. Larger covens I simply avoided with my gift. Over that time though my father seemed to change.

Perhaps the madness I began to see had always been there, and it merely took knowing him, and then not seeing him for long stretches for it to become evident. In the year 1918 I returned to the crumbling castle in the mountains that served as the home for House Lupus. I had returned alone, finding nobody on my last trip for my father to change. Again his rage was nearly a physical force. He ranted as he threw wine goblets and decanters at me, shattering against the wall of his study. It was then I learned the true depths of his madness, and just what his crusade truly entailed.

He screamed past foam flecked lips of his desire to lead an army of werewolves into Volterra Italy. To drag the Volturi out of their hiding places and slaughter them in the streets. To kill every living thing, everyone that had contacted the leaches there and then abroad. I tried to explain what that would mean. He had hidden from the world for more centuries then I cared to count. He had no idea of what humanity was capable of. That they were growing more capable every day. I tried explaining to him, that whatever his goal, the result would be the end of vampires yes. But also the end of our own species as well once humanity learned of our existence.

He called me a traitor, he said I was either with him or against him. In his madness, which I alone bore witness to he then admitted to things that took the breath from my lungs. He told me how my grandfather had disagreed with him, and the night he died. He told me about the night my mother died. Died by his hands, his claws. She disagreed, she tried to protect me from the life she knew he had waiting for me, and he killed her for it.

Visions of my mother's face swam before me for a moment, and I lashed out at him. My claws grew, and slashed through the left side of his face like it was warm butter. His blood spilled and it felt good to do it. I struck out for my mother, and in my mind's eye I could see her smile. But age meant little to my kind. Though he looked older, my father was little weakened with the passage of time. Only atrophy saw any decline in his power. He kicked me right through a window, and I fell. I fell for what seemed like forever before plunging through the ice and into a river that ran along the castle. The rushing waters carried me away under the sheet of ice. Blackness overtook me, and It was some time before I would wake again.

But when I did, it was in the back of a wagon, many miles from where I had started. I had been found and presumed dead initially, along the shore of the very river I had plunged into. Months had passed since my fall, trapped beneath the ice I had been in a death like state. Unable to truly die from downing, I lived again when there was air to once more breath. My savior was an elderly couple from a small village in Russia.

Even as my eyes flickered open, I was taken aback by what I saw waiting for me. The most beautiful girl I had ever seen was swathing my forehead with a wet cloth. She spoke soothingly in Russian, which I understood from my many travels through that country.

Her name was Illyana, and she and her parents had found me. She was small, petite, and yet there was a fierceness about her just the same. Uncommonly her hair was short, in a somewhat boyish way. Yet it suited her well.

I could have easily left then, I was in no danger and fully healthy despite what they believed. But just looking into her eyes, I elected to remain and be nursed back to health a little longer. A little longer stretched into days, and the days stretched into weeks. The weeks inevitably became months, which slowly passed into a year. The happiest year I could remember since the days when I still looked into my mother's eyes.

I learned much of humans living with them. They felt my lack of knowing many basic things came from my time in the river, never suspecting I was not re-learning them, but simply never knew them at all. Things I had not learned in the ryu centuries before, or in all my time living alongside of humanity. It was my first time living as one, and I found it understandably relaxing. It was easy to settle into such a routine as this. To put my father's madness behind me, to live a life I chose for myself for the first time, well, ever.

Illyana and I wed, as was the human custom. In a strange way it felt like I had left what I was behind me. Wolves did not wed after all, they took a mate. In my father's case he had taken many. It was a silly thing really, making that distinction, but it was satisfying to put yet another wall between this new life and the one I had always known. They knew me only as Jason Christopher, for that was the name I had taken to travel among humanity some time before. Iason, was a bit long in the tooth as names went. It drew unwanted attention. They believed me a human being, and for so long as I could be that, I would. Perhaps someday Illyana would know what I really was. But in my ignorance I chose not to tell her now. Had I it might have saved her life.

Almost a year after we were wed, my son was born. I named him in honor of my brother, Roberte. He favored his mother in appearance, which I found quite pleasant. Life was peaceful, almost idyllic. The life I had lead seemed so very far away. Yet the reality is we can never really escape who we are, or who we are meant to be. Even after all the years I was alive, I was still being taught such lessons. This one came at a bitter cost.

I was out hunting when they must have found my scent. Because I was hunting they couldn't find me, but they were able to find my wife and child. My gift offered them no shield. From over a mile away as I returned I could scent the blood, even over that of my kill. For the first time in years, I shifted, and I ran. But as fast as I was, it wasn't fast enough. I should have known it wouldn't be though. I had delivered death often enough to know it can't be outrun, not in the end.

Illyana and Roberte were dead, her parents who were visiting at the time likewise slaughtered. The scents were known to me, my father had actually left his castle seeking me. In some dark corner of my mind I was almost flattered he considered me worth the time and sacrifice. Valleri's sent was there as well. No doubt he has leaped at the chance to be in my father's good grace again after my disgrace. There was no note, the message was clear enough though. I would never truly be free of them.

There was however an ambush. Roberte waited there, using the stealth skills I had taught him. They weren't enough though, not nearly, to hide from me. I never even looked at him, just spoke out loud, as I looked at my son's savaged body. I told him, he had been named after him. I could feel him break some inside, but I didn't care then. I couldn't bring myself to kill him, but I also couldn't look at him either. My brother risked much that day, stepping aside as I walked into the forest. Melting easily from his sight as I employed my gift.

My crusade began in 1920. My father made it clear, so very clear that I would never truly escape him. So long as he lived he would hound me, follow me, hunt me. Of course he had seen me molded into the perfect weapon, hunting me was no simple task. He would rarely send many against me, as to do so would risk his own crusade. He needed numbers after all to attack the Volturi. Numbers which I had proven in times past I was capable of whittling down.

Thus began the civil war among my kind. A secret war going on during the greater war of vampire versus werewolf. My allies have ever been few, my father's tactics growing ever more modern as he learns more of the outside world from the hunters he sets after me. But my own tactics have begun to evolve as well. Rarely have I ever stayed in a place for long. His spies slowly become legion, as more and more of my kind are drawn into the conflict between us. Now I have come to consider that may be wrong.

Lately I have come to accept that his own tactics may well be used against him. Werewolves traditionally seldom traveled in packs. Only when we are compelled to by need, or a powerful alpha. But when we do, we are stronger for it. I have commanded packs before, in my father's name. Now I will build one myself, to counter his army. Pack vs pack, father vs son. With nothing less than the fate of my species on the line, if in his madness he should attack the Volturi for all the world to see.

The year is now 2005. I have waged this civil war against my father for 85 years, with very few gains. Ours has been a stalemate. Once many years before, the Quileute Indians told me that they were descended from wolves. Now I find myself in the town of Fork's Washington, not at all far from the Quileute reservation. And the forest here, is filled with the scent of wolves once more, as before in legends. Enough to represent a sizable pack. And a Wolf Pack, is exactly what I need.

Jacob Black
Jacob Black

Imprinted Mate

Jacob Black is Jason's imprinted mate.



Roberte, more often known as "Sly," is Jason's son.

Logs featuring Jason Christopher:

Old Logs featuring Jason Christopher:

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