Cherokee Herz

Cherokee had lived out on these streets for nearly a whole year now, not that she really knew just how long it had been because she did not possess things like a calender or a cell phone or anything of the sort. So, she just lived day by day like she always had. She had found shelter for the winter in an abandoned old shack, where she did return when the weather got bad. Aside from then she spent her time roaming the streets down town searching for where she might get her next meal.

Right now, she was headed to the local motel. They had a pool inside and also showers. So, this is where Cherokee always went to get freshened up, the front desk workers were pretty nice and they didn't say anything to her about her visits. She gave the kind lady behind the counter a smile and a nod as she walked past her and into the locker room where the showers were. Quickly she showered using the complimentary soap and shampoo from the bowl in the room.

Once finished she dressed and then she walked out of the motel, no one would ever even know that she was there. No, she was a pretty good girl, she was not really disruptive or aggressive... She just did what she had to do to survive. Every once in a while that got her in to trouble because that often meant that she had to steal to get food or money for food. But, a girl has to eat, right?

It looked like it might rain as she walked out of the little motel so Cherokee decided that she might as well head back to her worn down little shack. At least she would be relatively dry there. So, she walked along the deserted side walk that she always took. Though, to her surprise a car pulled up beside her and slowed down so that it was going the same pace that she was walking. The window was rolled down and a man yelled out it. He asked her if she needed a ride and she shook her head and replied No, I'm fine, thanks. When she kept walking the car stopped and the man got out, grabbing Cherokee's slender frame and trying to drag her to the car.

Cherokee screamed as she fought against the man with all of her strength. She would be no match for him in the long run, though...

Jace Wayland

The archetypal Byronic hero, Jace is sarcastic, cynical, and witty but also vain, arrogant, and full of angst. He had always given the impression of holding most people in disdain but is really quite chivalrous toward women. His charisma, good looks and charm have made him quite the ladies' man and he is somewhat promiscuous. He never forms emotional attachments for more than a short period of time, if at all. Jahoel was a domineering and bullying father to Jace and taught him that "to love is to destroy". Beneath Jace's flippant exterior lies a soul in constant torment. Jace is filled with a deep-seated rage that he keeps in check most of the time and which he channels into fighting and slaying his enemies. While many often date around to calm their nerves, Jace relaxes by getting into fights. One might figure that fighting must be to Jace "what sex is to normal people". Jace's conceited exterior hides a deep inner hatred which intensifies after he learns that he is the only left of his bloodline. Jace has a strong moral core but also exhibits sadistic tendencies which he gets from Jahoel and at times he can be extremely vindictive though often he is being cruel to protect those he loves.

Jace is a brilliant young man with fine,short, deep brown, almost golden blond hair and golden eyes. He has a slim, muscular build, and is about 5"11. His face is described as being pretty and angular, and many have often refered to him as beautiful. Like all other hunters from his bloodline, he is covered in thin, silver scars from years of applying various runes of protection as well as battles. He also has a fine tan that makes his skin a light gold color. His ultimate look is often referred to as an avenging angel. His tanned complexion, golden hair and golden eyes give off a light of their own, radiating his pride and, well, valor.

The story of Jace's life is one of the most complex tales. His father was known in his homeland as one of the most villainous beings ever to be known. When Jace was young, his father bought him a hunting falcon. Jace was ordered to make the animal obey. While in the midst of completing said task, Jace found himself becoming attached to the bird and even began to form a type of bond with it. Proud of himself, he had gone running to his father to show him. When his father saw how tamed the creature was he took out his sword and cleanly sliced its head off. Jahoel said that he was supposed to make it obey, not make it tame. No hunter should ever be tamed, for it would defeat the purpose. It was on that day that Jace learned how to love, was to destroy, and to be loved was to always be the one destroyed.
Because he was dosed with what was referred to as angel's blood in his home religions, before his birth, he has "the gift of the Angel", the meaning of which no one is quite sure. He is stronger than the average hunter and has said himself that his pain threshold is abnormally high. He also has the ability to fall and jump rather long distances.
When Jace came here he was completely lost, as usual. His mind was back at home with the burning remains of his family's city. The natural instincts in his blood urged him to join with the strongest most feared gang he could possibly find. He knew he would easily fit right in with them, he certainly looked the part at least with all of his inky tattoos and silvery scars even the heavy, oversized blade that he carried with him at all times strapped firmly to his nearly bare back but for the usual thin white shirt. But something, someone stepped lithely into his path, changing his mindset almost immediately. Maybe it was time for him to forget his tortured past for a bit, maybe, by going on the exact opposite side of his father he would be able make up for the wrongs he and his father had committed.

Perhaps, finally today would be the day. Jace had arrived in the town early that morning. He had received the usual looks of fear and humor that he always had prior. IT wasn't like it was any kind of surprise. After all, the kid only ever wears a flimsy white shirt, never buttoned of course, and torn jeans. Not too strange you say? Well, he also happens to carry around an ancient, steel sword strapped tightly across his bare chest. Add a few inky tattoos and shiny white scars and you have yourself quite a sight no matter where you go. They made him snicker though, people in awe over him, it really was quite amusing. So he enjoyed himself, bathing in the limelight as he strode along the streets.
He had finally stopped mid afternoon along a brick wall, probably part of someone's garden border, to take a break and catch a quick nap. It wasn't like he was going anywhere, hell he hadn't even decided whether he really would stay or not this time. It was a nice warm place, his smile had become a smirk, at ease with himself as he lay staring up at the greying sky. looks like rain he thought to himself as he plucked a stray weed from the cracks in the wall and played it between his fingers. It was then that he heard it. A sudden, startled scream from at least two blocks down. It was a female voice, young and completely helpless.
Without any thought Jace was up and striding down the street towards the noise. He covered the distance in record time, slowing only when he got within eyesight of the event. There was a car parked, no, stopped along the side of the street and a man and a girl were next to it. At first glance it looked like nothing unusual but to Jace it was clear something was wrong. The girl's face was contorted in dismay, she was doing well staying out of the car at the moment but Jace knew, just as well as she did that there was no way she would win in the end.
After taking a quick glance around, assuring himself that there was no possibility of a crowd, Jace reached behind himself and with a swift, fluid motion unsheathed the stunning sword. Without hesitation and in just a few swift steps he was directly behind the man, the blade of his sword running down the guy's right side, digging mercilessly into his thigh, Jace's right hand lay on his left shoulder enveloping the entirety of his neck in his harsh grip. His pointer figner wrapped around and fit perfectly into the center of his neck where chest and neck meet. Jace then brought his lips close to the mans ear and let loose his one and only warning.

"one twitch of my finger and you'll have breathed your last breath. Let the girl go, and I won't kill you"

Coming from anyone else, an older man perhaps, this threat would seem almost comical, over acted even. But coming from Jace it was clear, even if you didn't know him, couldn't see him, that he was not joking around. Though, his words and voice were completely calm, almost bored as if this was something he did every day.