Affliction is a supernatural (and some modern fantasy) role play loosely based on Anita Blake / Merry Gentry lore. We are a R-rated site with explicit content. 18+ members only. Please register with an out of character account first and full character names (first and last) after.
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Posted on: Oct 17 2017, 06:46 PM
Xander has spent a considerable amount of his lifetime trying to maintain a good physique. Because of that he has a relatively considerable amount of muscle – that being said, he is not overly large either. A great deal of his muscle has been earned through hard work outside the gym, which has left him less cut than generally large. He can at times be quite imposing, standing just over six feet tall, he is as tall as he is broad and tends to put people off by sheer size alone. The fact that he has also chosen to adorn himself in a number of tattoos certainly doesn’t help to soften his image.
Aside from his overall size, Xander has an exceptionally warm smile. When he does truly smile it’s almost impossible to miss his dimples. Additionally he has bright blue eyes that seem to light up whenever he is amused. His hair is somewhere between dirty blonde and light brown and has been kept in a multitude of styles. More often than not he clips the sides short and leaves the center long, but he has been known on more than one occasion to simply shave it all off.
Overall Xander is a genuinely good guy. He can be relatively charming when he wants to be and has a good sense of humor. When he lets his guard down he enjoys verbal sparring and jovial teasing, probably more than he would ever let on. Raised in what a lot of people would consider suburban life he has a solid set of morals and tends to do the right thing whenever possible. He would do just about anything to take care of his family and friends, no matter what the consequences might be. In his youth he was a believer of romance and wanted nothing more than to settle down and have a family of his own.
The problem lies not necessarily in his demeanor but the underlying current of his ptsd & lycanthropy. While he functions quite highly with his PTSD it has definitely affected his day to day life. Xander doesn’t sleep much and when he does he prefers to be alone as he can awake quite combative at times. He seeks out places that tend to be open twenty-four hours so he can rely on them when he needs to go somewhere or do something to keep himself awake. There are intermittent times when he has headaches or equates the static in his head to headaches, which usually indicates a turning in his mood and can be followed relatively quickly by violence.
Some individuals, when asked to describe their life story, would begin from their point of origin and then continue on. Xander however did not have what one might call a complicated or exciting youth. All things considered he had a relatively average life. His parents were happily married, they had three children, and none of them seemed in any way compelled to get into trouble. If anything they seemed to be the quintessential poster family for middle class suburban life. Xander was in no way a disappointment to that life, he was in nearly every sense, average. A relatively good role model for his younger siblings, he did well in school, played football, kept his nose clean, and achieved what he needed to in order to be happy.
His hum drum life didn’t really change until his senior year of high school, when he had to truly face his future. There was something about that finish line that had a bizarre ability to turn even the most sensible soul into a bit of a nutcase. Plans were never really Xander’s forte, he simply coasted along through life and was doing fine, but middle of the road didn’t necessarily mean success. Colleges wanted more and Xander was far from interested in debt. What was the alternative? Like so many drifting eighteen year old men, he signed his life away to the military and kissed his ordinary life goodbye.
Bootcamp was not like school in any way, shape, or form. Whatever films he had watched in his youth, they had not prepared him for the hell he faced. The work was grueling and it had only just begun. After thirteen intense weeks, Xander was a private in the USMC and was ready to hit the ground running, but not before a brief break. A short six month interlude at home rewarded him with some time with his family and the introduction to the woman who would become his wife. Though little did he know it, it would not be a long and lasting relationship.
Leave it to a set of dress blues and a newly chiseled physique to draw in the eyes of an interested woman. Caroline was a beautiful girl with a head full of dreams, but she never made a good impression upon his family, especially his youngest sister. He was smitten in every sense with the young woman and she had insisted that it would be best if she could continue school and receive his benefits while he was on tour. Despite the objections he faced, Xander gave in and married Caroline forsaking all others for the prospect of the life he’d always wanted. A few hours at the justice of the peace and a wild night later, he was officially married and happier than he had ever been.
Unfortunately like all Marines, Xander was eventually called to duty. His first tour was a two year stint that seemed to come and go within the blink of an eye. Every week he found himself opening a new letter from his sister, one from his mom, and yet never once one from his young bride. When he finally found his way home again, it wasn’t quite as ideal as he had remembered it. Caroline was not really the princess he had built her up to be in his mind. Her indiscretions came to light within days of his return home and the result was nuclear. Her betrayal was one he couldn’t begin to stomach, so he filed for divorce. It should have been amicable and yet Caroline made it as difficult as possible.
By the time the smoke settled Caroline had managed to convince the judge that she deserved support and Xander lost his cool. Reenlisting and delving into another tour resulted in a multitude of accolades, however, most medals in the military came with a price. War was never easy on anyone and Xander was no exception to that rule. It was the hardest four years of his life, only made worse by the knowledge that while he was away his baby sister had become ill. What little he knew came through sporadic letters and they never seemed to fully add up. The mail system where he was stationed was unreliable at best, so when he got letters it was a miracle. What was clear was that his family needed money or Ashley wasn’t going to get the treatment that she so direly needed.
Luckily for Xander, where there was a will there was a way and he had more than enough drive to find a way to make more money. The military hadn’t exactly kept their projects under wraps when it came to a select few marines. When they had come knocking the first time, Xander had pushed them off, now he had a very good reason to seek them out. The pay would be substantial, more than enough to help Ashley get the treatment that she needed, so he had signed on the dotted line. On the surface the process seemed relatively straight forward, they were testing new vaccines to go into war wrought atmospheres. It wasn’t anything that hadn’t been done before. Those who proved to have the best reactions to the vaccines were then introduced to a new cocktail, this time however, things got a little more complicated.
Despite having shown an incredible resilience to most of what he had been given up to that point, Xander did not withstand the effects of one immunization in particular. The army had referred to it as GV287, Xander came to know it as a strain of lycanthropy that resulted in his departure from the human world. By that time he had already endured a tremendous amount in the field and was already teetering on the razor fine edge of what was typical stress and post traumatic. When he found himself bound to the moon and harboring a venomous counterpart in his core, things only got worse. The army did their best to keep everything under wraps and did what they could to teach him to utilize and control what was within him. In the end, however, they chose to honorably discharge him from service.
Thankfully when he returned he found some semblance of happiness. Ashley was in remission, which meant the money he had sent back had done its part. Many of his worries were alleviated and yet the loss of that stress did not take away from the trauma his mind had endured on his tour nor did it drive the serpent from his body. Desperate to avoid the questions and concerns, Xander packed up what little he had left he moved to a little place just outside of Savannah. It was easy to settle into life there, stored up away from the world. Eventually after months of nightmares and tirades he finally accepted the fact that he was in no condition to truly live and while he hated it he was willing to endure psychiatric help if it meant getting through what he was coping with. Ironically staying on the outskirts only hurt him more than helped him, which didn’t take long for his doctor to uncover.
Xander was at his best when he was in motion, active, helping… which was why he needed a purpose. Law enforcement was out of the question, but there were alternatives. He’d been conditioned for extreme situations and was more than capable of carrying more than his body weight, so the answer was a simple one; he became a firefighter. So long as he remained busy he could curb the demons eating at him from within. With that in mind he took on as much time as he was able at the station and when he wasn’t working he was up and active.
He haunted twenty-four hour locales, keeping himself in some way stimulated as long as he was able. When he had to sleep it was sporadic and usually uneasy; nevertheless he managed to find a schedule that kept him rested enough to function reliably. With his life relatively on track again he was able to focus more on his family and trying to remain stable, even if he was something of a ticking time bomb. Nevertheless when he heard Ashley was sick once more it was his opportunity to step up and be there for her like he was unable to before. Not to mentioning focusing on what was ailing her gave him another reason to ignore his own issues.
Racial Abilities: Increased Healing
Enhanced Reflexes: While Xander is not “faster” than a typical human might be when it comes to running, he is faster when it comes to short physical motions. Examples would be, grabbing something/someone, dodging something, etc. Anything that requires a brief pulse of adrenaline in order to move faster than average. (Think a snake strike)
Sensing Vibrations: Xander can feel vibrations through most solid surfaces. It takes a bit of focus to hone in on specific vibrations, since the world is quite full of them, but he can usually pin point specific ones with the adequate amount of effort. He can also identify people by the way they walk and known when they are coming without seeing or hearing them, as each person has a unique stride.
Venomous Bite: Xander possesses a venom that is not at all unlike his animal counterpart. It is, however, considerably more potent than a normal Gaboon Viper. In most cases his bite is fatal to human beings within a mere minutes of being bit. When it comes to preternatural creatures, his bite effects them the same way a normal gaboon might effect a human being. It causes rapid and conspicuous swelling, intense pain, severe shock, and local blistering. Other symptoms may include uncoordinated movements, defecation, urination, swelling of the tongue and eyelids, convulsions and unconsciousness. Blistering, bruising and necrosis at the bite site may be prominent. Most species who heal quickly are in no threat of dying, however, they won’t be having a good night either.
Control: Xander is not yet an alpha and still suffers at times from a loss of control. He has adopted a number of coping mechanisms, but sometimes he does shift when he is experiencing strong emotional outbursts. Specifically any emotion that elevates his heart rate like rage or fear.
The Call of the Beast: Xander can be controlled by alpha snakes, Master vampires, or anyone else capable of calling and controlling serpents or animals in general.
Cold Blooded: Xander is not technically cold blooded, but he is pretty damn close. The closer he comes to being an alpha the closer he comes to being truly cold blooded. He seeks warmth and finds it almost narcotic at times. It helps him to recover from wounds, sleep, and even digest. When he gets cold it can likewise affect him negatively. When cold his healing is slowed, he finds it harder to be comfortable, he’s more sluggish, and he has a harder time getting nutrients from what he eats.
- Weaponry (Guns, Knives, Etc.)
- Hand to Hand Combat
- Fire Safety & Knowledge
- Survival Tactics
- Mechanic (Car & Motorcycle)
- General Handyman
Xander is a pretty typical middle class Savannah resident. He owns a small house just outside the city to cut back on the cost of living. He does tend to spend most of his time in the city, however, using the night life as an excuse to stay up. When the clubs close he is usually found in 24 hour diners and dives or getting another tattoo added to his collection. When he isn’t eating or having a good time then he is usually working out in the gym or at a local park or he’s working. He’s an active fire fighter for the Savannah Fire Department and works 24 hours on and 48 hours off each week.
As far as “toys” are concerned, Xander has an old 68 Galaxy and a 72 shovelhead that he treats like they are his children. He tends to enjoy finding old cars and bikes then fixing them up and turning them over for a profit. What few he does keep usually have some kind of sentimental value.
Victory Gianetta – Father
Angelique Gianetta – Mother
Ashley Gianetta – Sister
Caroline Gianetta – Ex-wife
did you read the rules? [yes]
your age [OLD]
years of RP experience 
There was a certain art that existed in not only living as a slave but exceling at it. You had to be able to not only identify the wants and needs of the one you were serving, but deliver on them in such a way as to remain pleasing. In the short time that she had been with him, however, Cherish had learned that simply pleasing Nik was not enough to remain viable. Unlike other houses she had been in throughout her past, boring her Master was the farthest thing from what she wanted. With Nik, boredom could be deathly dangerous, whereas with others it could mean a life of blissful peace. In order to remain as in tact and cared for as she was, she needed to ensure that he was not only pleased with her, but that he never tired of her. It was a precarious balance; like walking the blade of a razor’s tip, but it was one she had managed with comparatively minimal damage than that of her predecessors.
As the weeks crawled on to months, her lastly performance was justly rewarded. A room gave way to apparel and before she knew it a trip. The “meeting” as it was referred to would no doubt be less of a blessing than it was implied and yet she did her best to assure him that she was delighted in being chosen. Always the convincing young ingénue, she made herself up as best as she was able, taking care to ensure that every last detail would be something that would please him first and foremost. It didn’t matter where they were going, who would see them, or what they would do… if she did not inspire him from the moment she stepped from her room, then she would have failed and failure was simply not an option.
The ride over was far from comfortable given the degree of tension within the limo and yet despite it the physical contact was minimal. Wherever they were going it would matter how she looked when they arrived; otherwise there was not a doubt in her mind that he would have done considerably more than just hold her thigh. There was a certain pressure in the tips of his fingers against the supple flesh of her inner leg that told her that much. As they arrived she turned her gaze up toward the front of the estate, looking upon it with the smallest inkling of intrigue. Where exactly had he brought her and why? The question was only muddled further as he stood from the limo and presented her with his hand. The gesture was a foreign one and yet it was met with immediate obedience.
Rising in his wake with very little pressure put into his hand, she ascended to the height of her stiletto tipped heels. Balancing with a ballerina-like grace on the balls of her feet as she fell into step at his side. Poised beneath his arm like the prized little gem that she was, guided into the luxurious lap of the seeded underworld. Not paying so much as a glance to the individual behind the door, she allowed her gaze to instead pass to the parlor beyond. Without bringing her gaze higher than that of a person’s waist she could count the bodies and take stock of what was happening. The slaves in accompaniment were not unkempt, rather they seemed to be groomed and trained, put forth to perform like priceless livestock.
The thought narrowed her eyes but a fraction of an inch before Nik’s turn initiated the immediate dismissal of any sign of dissatisfaction. By the time his eyes touched her features they were as beautifully placid as a porcelain doll. As he spoke she heard the tone twisting at the back of his tongue; that lilt in his voice that implied his question was rhetorical rather than earnest. He didn’t want her to tell him that she understood, if she didn’t understand by now then she wasn’t worth his time or effort. Instead she simply acknowledged him with the fractional ascension of her lashes. Offering just the tiniest hint of the multi-faceted shades of blue that hid behind those long golden veils as her gaze found its way to his lips.
When he kissed her she let the world sink away once more as her lashes fell, dropping to splay across her cheeks. Puckering her lips into the embrace she met the contact but not in the way one might find of a lover; instead she seemed to welcome him upon the silken threshold of her lips, submitting to the force behind his kiss. In the midst of it the tiniest sound welled to the surface, buzzing between their skins, so subtle it would have been lost but to the man standing in such proximity. It was a whimper in word only, in practice it was the sound of vulnerability and confirmation. When he withdrew and the last of his words chilled the moisture upon her lips she was quick to respond, allowing the sweet sound of her submission to follow. “Always.”
With the acknowledgement assured she waited to follow his lead. Did he expect her to simply go and be or was there a particular protocol that she was expected to follow, beyond what had been immediately outlined? Whatever was to come, it would not alter her perception of the event. This night was undoubtedly going to be one she would never forget, but that certainly did not mean that it would be one that she would enjoy.
Posted on: Oct 17 2017, 06:59 PM
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