All stories are about wolves. All worth repeating, that is. Anything else is sentimental drivel. Thereās escaping from the wolves, fighting the wolves, capturing the wolves, taming the wolves. Being thrown to the wolves, or throwing others to the wolves so the wolves will eat them instead of you. Running with the wolf pack. Turning into a wolf. Best of all, turning into the head wolf. No other decent stories exist.
Full Name: David Castor Cooke
Age & Birthdate: 22 years old, born on November 9, 1992
Place of Birth: Bellingham, Washington, USA
Occupation: College student, part-time cashier
Face Claim: Nicholas Hoult
So, Davy. What was your childhood like? And howās your relationship with you family now?
āFucking loud,ā Davy said. And that was, in the barest form, true. He shrugged, but in his shoulders was an aggressive hunch, something that dared this stranger to contradict him. Perhaps that something wanted to be contradicted, for the pleasure of setting things straight. Confrontation was bread-and-butter for Cookes. It was motherās milk. And you didnāt win a fight without getting a little bitey. āIt was good. And real, real fucking loud.ā
He crossed his arms, leaning over the kitchen table on his elbows over a cup of tea. He gave up on crossing his arms, and toyed with the string on the teabag, bobbing it up and down. His memories of childhood were green and gray skies and rooms in big houses filled with moving blurs of other children to play āwolvesā with until they could play as wolves. There were several wolf packs, straddling the border that wolves did not have to recognize, and the Cookes made up a sizable chunk of them. āWe were just a big family. Me, dad, my aunts, all my siblings, all my cousins, all that ā¦. my Grandpa Castor, heās still around and heās, yāknow, heās the loudest. I mean, theyāre family. Itās not like family goes away, like, even the idiots are still our idiots.ā
Davy had heard great-grandpa Castor repeat that particular phrase maybe a thousand times, with a scoffing, scornful pity that Davy never wanted to be on the other end of. It was the way people in the family talked about Karen, the cousin who had run away to San Francisco to live with a human because standards and pride eluded her, or Uncle Reese, who shifted in front of a group of campers once while drunk and had to have the whole family hunt them all down to get them safely tattooed. It was the way you talked about failures, big and small. You owned them because you had honor, but you wished you didnāt have to.
You owed it to your family not to fuck up. It was bullshit that some of them didnāt feel the same way.
Right, well, how did you say you ended up in Seattle?
āOh, I, uh, I didnāt say,ā Davy said, hunching a little lower. The fight went out of him a little. He didnāt meet the strangerās eyes, for once. It was one thing to lie-and-leave-out to a human about shifters and family business; that wasnāt really even lying, it was just the way life was. He swallowed. āI came down to finish out, uh, my degree. Electrical engineering, at UW. Itās a big deal to my dad.ā
Davy pulled the teabag out of the tea, not particularly mindful of how the water scalded his fingers as he squeezed out the excess. āI dunno what he thinks Iām gonna do with it. I just want to go home afterward.ā
This he muttered into the mug. This made him uneasy. It seemed unthinkable that so much work and money and energy and effort should go to waste, but Davy was only grateful that he wasnāt expected to be at the top of the class. Being a part of it seemed to be enough for the others. He didnāt let himself think about what was going to happen afterward too often.
āAnd,ā Davy said, slipping into the vagueness that all the family practiced when they were about to mention something shifter-related. āI have family here; my auntās getting old, and she needs help with the shop, so ā¦ā
He let that lapse. It was a fill in the blanks sort of statement. Aunt Ninaāgrand-aunt Nina, specificallyāhad had a shop on the Strip for years, and it catered to the kind of clientele that might need something suddenly, or might want to sell to specific buyers. Their kind of people, Aunt Nina said stiffly. To the rest of the world, it was a dusty second-hand shop without the distinction of selling antiques. It had worked out that way; a little favor from Grandpa Castor, arranged-slash-enforced by him through his status in the family. Davy was the favored child, and he was ungrateful. It only served to make him feel guiltier.
Okay, thanks. Now ā how would you say your friends would describe you to someone who didnāt know you?
āI dunno. I think Iām okay, so thatās probably what theyād say. Oh, my best friend would probably call me an asshole, but she can get away with it. Sheās my cousin.ā Davy shrugged. Most of his friends were related to him, in some way, or else they were in the pack heād formed with her and a couple others. It had never felt like being exclusionary, when there was so much family to choose from. āThatās basically what best friends do, right? I mean, damn. I miss her. Sheād have a ton of stuff to tell you. I wish she could have come down with me, that would have been awesomeāā
Of course, she would have been down here, if sheād been picked for Grandpa Castorās favor instead of him. What she would probably say was Davy has a stick up his ass, but I love him. Stick and all. He could hear it, in his head, in her voiceāthat was how sure he wasāalong with all her big schemes and plans and ideas, when I get out of school, Iām gonna ā¦ Davy concluded with a jerking, awkward shrug. āI donāt have too many friends at school, right now. Theyāre okay people. But like ā¦ ā
He blew out a sigh. If she had left home instead of him, she probably would have left left. āIām not going to see them after this year, probably, right?ā
Alright. Lastly, whatās your greatest ambition versus your greatest fear?
āTo graduate, obviously,ā Davy said, with distinct fiercenessābut if the stranger was listening carefully, they might have heard the faint question mark. It was the obvious answer, and honestly, kind of a lame ambition. More than anything, Davy wanted to do what the family wanted, and heād do all of everything they asked. āI donāt know about fears. I guess normal stuff. I donāt want ā¦ā
His eyes flicked to the ceiling, trying to think of something dire. The worst thing he could think of was failureāor being found outāor found wanting. He tried to think of what heād do to someone who let him down like that, and concludedāas he had so often concluded for othersāthat heād just abandon them. It would be intolerable. It would be worse than death. And even though he heard Grandpa Castor say, theyāre still our idiots, he couldnāt shake the feeling. Instead he said, āI donāt want, like, Phoebe or Jacky or dad to get hurt, or get shot, or caught or whatever. Iām afraid of that. Sure. Why the hell do you even wanna know?ā
Where would you like to see this character go in the roleplay?
I imagine this character as being a traditionalist shapeshifter, someone who has been raised by a family of conventional, conservative shifters, and is thus very concerned with the current trend of āpeople just finding outā a long held secret. I picture him as being one of the people ārounding upā humans in the know so that they can receive the appropriate tattoos (and would like to roleplay that out!) I would also like to see him arguing or otherwise interacting with those members of the supernatural community that disagree, maybe somehow presenting them for justice to whatever authority is appropriate. Or better, being prevented from doing that, whether thatās by force or blackmail or guilt, however that falls out. And finally, interacting with humans! I donāt see him as someone who is isolated, but very proud and a little aloof, someone who has been surrounded by a lot of rhetoric and belief his whole life, and is only just starting to form his own opinions the state of the world.
This character is played by KelĀ in GMT-8.
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