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handler: alison
age: 24
occupation: cartoonist/mechanic
affiliation: gerard's pack
application: x
plotter link: x
gif link: https://i.imgbox.com/kUywlIlr.gif
lyrics: waiting for the time to pass you by, hope the winds of change will change your mind, i could give a thousand reasons why
Joined: 7-May 17
Status: (Offline)
Last Seen: Jun 6 2017, 02:19 PM
Local Time: Jun 27 2017, 09:39 PM
39 posts (0.7 per day)
( 0.14% of total forum posts )
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marcus okello


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May 8 2017, 01:56 AM
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marcus okello

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24 - werewolf - cartoonist/mechanic

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Marcus is a super friendly and outgoing aspiring cartoonist/comic book author who works as a mechanic. He’s relatively new to London, where he joined Gerard’s pack and started working at the Knox Garages. He has some experience working with cars, and he saw that he could combine both a job and a secure pack situation so \o/ His choice to move to London was a bit of a wide-eyed, ambitious one. He thought it would help jump start his career in cartoons/comic books, but he’s been sending off manuscripts (idk if that’s what it’s called when it’s a comic…) left and right to no avail. He’s struggling to keep up his motivation right now, but it’s something that he’s working his hardest on.
The comic he writes is called Werewolf Boy and is about a character based off himself as a child, when he would pretend to be a superhero who would try and defeat the evil Doctor Fluffson aka his cat :|| His goal with it is to be something relatable for children who are growing up as werewolves/trying to understand wtf is going on basically. He talks about his comic a lot when meeting people for the first time, which can come off as annoying to some people for sure. But really it’s something he takes a lot of pride in and hopes can reach young people — his intentions are good!
He is the youngest of five children born to Ugandan immigrants. The two eldest siblings were born in Uganda, while the rest of them were born in Bristol, where his parents relocated to. He’s quite a bit younger than his siblings (a bit of an “accident” you could say…) and so suffers from a bit of youngest child syndrome, where he’s kind of desperate for attention but also pretty self-assured in general because he’s been semi-babied most of his life. He’s super gregarious and a little bit cocky, but overall people tend to like him; he’s a really nice guy and is a lot of fun to party and hang out with. He doesn’t show his more sensitive/deeper side to a lot of people, he’s more so one of those people who seems like they’re friends with everyone.

<p><b>friends</b>. Marcus has made a fair amount of friends since he’s moved to London. Relocating completely on his own wasn’t a big deal to him at all because he’s so outgoing. He spends most of his time around other people and likes to go clubbing/out to drinks/etc. At this point, however, he probably doesn’t have a ton of super close friends, but rather a lot of superficial ones. He’s longing for some better friends though, even though he might not show it :’)
<p><b>enemies</b>. If he has enemies it’s just someone who’s like…jealous of him or finds his friendliness annoying? Idk. I’d be surprised if he had any enemies tbh.
<p><b>lovers</b>. Marcus has had his fair share of girlfriends and has been dating since he was very young — one of those kids that had a “girlfriend” at age seven, etc. He had a serious relationship in secondary school and probably a couple semi-serious relationships that lasted like six months-one year since then. He’s not looking to find the love of his life atm but is definitely down for something a bit more than a casual hookup. He’s maybe like a “serial monogamist” if you will? I’m down for someone he met on Tinder or something that he’s seeing and getting to know. His final is covered :’)

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<div class="block"><div class="blockword">bristol, UK</div></div><p>
<div class="block"><div class="blockword">gerard’s pack</div></div><p>
<div class="block"><div class="blockword">aspiring cartoonist</div></div><p>
<div class="block"><div class="blockword">F: zoya petrova</div></div></div></div>

</div></div><a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=3048"><div style="width: 295px; color: #000; font-family: calibri; font-size: 7px; letter-spacing: 3px; margin-top: 3px; text-align: center;">WHAT KATY DID</div></a></center><style>.everybody::-webkit-scrollbar {width: 2px;}
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May 7 2017, 02:39 AM
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marcus a. okello

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gerard's pack

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daniel kaluuya

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The adventures of Werewolf Boy!
Werewolf Boy crept out of his den, looking for his arch nemesis, the most evil of all creatures, the cruelest thing to walk the earth. She hid in hard-to-reach places, like the far corner of Werewolf Boy’s parents’ closet, back behind Mum’s Church dresses, or in that tiny space behind the washing machine. Werewolf Boy had to put on his special goggles to see her, because she used her sleek camouflage, the gray and black clusters, to blend in with her surroundings. Without his supersonic goggles, Werewolf Boy would never be able to catch her.
He crept downstairs, listening with his bionic ears for any sounds of the creature. But it was always a challenge; the villainous monster was truly adept at the art of sneaking. This creature could jump from the highest of heights in silence, landing on her feet with grace and scurrying off to one of her hiding spots with Werewolf Boy being none the wiser.
Knowing this, Werewolf Boy slid down the carpeted stairs in almost silence, save for the soft brush of his cotton pants against the itchy fabric of the carpeting. The little hairs would peel off and stick to his bottom, they always did. It was the mud that covered a soldier, the sweat that ran slick across the police officer’s brow. It was just one of the many signs he bore as he made his dangerous trek through the obstacles of the House.
At the bottom of the stairs he saw a flash of grey — it was the creature, he knew it. He had to make it through the living room where Mum and Dad sat with their feet up on the coffee table, lit by the neon glow of the telly. It was dark, otherwise, which meant plenty of places for the evil thing to hide, and a harder job for Werewolf Boy than he was prepared to handle.
But there — he could see her, hiding between the forest of chair legs beneath the dining room table, slinking her body around and around the curved wood in her canopied lair. Werewolf Boy had no choice, he had to go for it. He took a deep breath, pushed his cape back over his back so he wouldn’t trip on it, and got into position to sprint across the floor like the hero he was, hoping to put an end to his nemesis once and for all.
With a low growl he darted forward and scrambled across the room, behind the couch, keeping his body low and on all fours (he was a werewolf, of course) and made it to the dining room table. He glanced hastily back at the couch, but Mum and Dad were still facing forward, gazes fixed on the TV, Mum’s head resting gently on Dad’s shoulders. He was in the clear. But — where had she gone? The creature of the night had vanished — off into the kitchen, no doubt. She was too quick for him, but Werewolf Boy was determined to win. He would make it this time, he would get her.
He hurried into the kitchen. The lights were off, but he had his goggles on, they were helping, of course. Ah, he spotted her, skulking by the fridge, rubbing her body against its cool exterior. <B> “I got you now,”</b> he muttered, letting his voice ease into a quiet growl once more. But as he launched forward, mimicking her spry jumps, her fluid grace, to the best of his ability, he knocked into a chair and it came tumbling down with an ear-splitting crash.
<B> “Marcus! Is that you?”</b>
Alas, he’d been caught. Mum flicked the lights on and he covered his eyes, unprepared for the assault on his vision.
<B> “Stop chasing the cat and go back to bed.”</B>
<B> “I’m not Marcus, Mum.”</B>
<B> “Yes you are. At night, when you’re supposed to be sleeping, you’re Marcus. If you’re not upstairs in five seconds I’m going to haul you up there myself.”</B>
Head hanging low, Marcus pulled himself up and and walked with shame back to the staircase. Another mission intercepted. <I> You may have escaped my grasp this time, Doctor Fluffson, but you won’t get away next time. That I’m sure of. </I>
Eighteen years later, Marcus Okello stuffed copies of his original comic series into crisp manila envelopes. It was black and white — all he could afford — and only thirty pages, but bulk printing was expensive, and he figured maybe a shorter piece would actually be read by someone. Werewolf Boy stared up at him from the cover, equipped with his swimming goggles, his striped pajamas, his towel cape. Marcus was never known for his ability to recreate his own image, but he wasn’t going for accuracy. It was the essence of Werewolf Boy that he wanted to embody, the imagination that he’d had from a young age; a house that became a jungle full of monstrous creatures, a pet cat that turned into a leopard-like menace bent on destruction. Sometimes he worried that he was beginning to lose that imagination. Every rejection letter — if the publisher was even kind enough to send him one — chipped just a little bit away from his motivation. It was hard to keep himself going on the same thing over and over and over again when no one had any faith in it.
He sealed up the last of the envelopes and stacked them all together. Off to the post office again to pay his fees and send them off. He always hoped that he’d at least hear something back from them but so often he didn’t. <I> You’ve made it to London,</i> he reminded himself. <I>That’s step one.</i>
The artist formerly known as Werewolf Boy reached his humble abode once more, the six story walk-up. On two legs now, he jumped up the stairs, two at a time, into his cave atop the mountain. But now, he was alone. Doctor Fluffson was long gone, succumbed to cancer, actually, not to Werewolf Boy’s revenge. He had bigger creatures to tackle now and he knew he’d defeat them one day. Ultimately, this is what kept Werewolf Boy going. They were just another monster aiming for destruction — of his strength, his motivation, his self-assurance. Werewolf Boy’s mission would never be complete, but with every letter in the post, he hoped he was that much closer.

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<div class="alias-box"> alison - gmt -6 - 26 </div>

<a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=165"><div style="width: 450px;text-align: right; font-family: cambria; font-size: 8px; text-transform: uppercase; font-style: italic; color: #000; line-height: 100%; letter-spacing: 1px;"> ♥ SARA! </div></a>
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