Toby Shanker

[Toby]

NAME: Toby Shanker.
NICKNAMES: Though he is far from the youngest pack member, he has earned himself the affectionate title of ‘Pup’, and actually doesn’t seem to mind it at all, especially when it comes from the much older pack members, such as the leaders, or those close to that age. The more common ones are Tobe, or Tobes, which are both obviously derivatives of his given name.
RACE: Werewolf; turned.
OCCUPATION: Pack Member.
GENDER: Male.
SKIN COLOUR: Caucasian, with a subtle tan.
NATIONALITY: American.
AGE: 138, but he looks to be in his mid-twenties, physically.
CLOTHING: Toby looks very much like a child of the twenty-first century, his style usually akin to those of modern youths, with t-shirts bearing easy-going, witty slogans and characters or logos, or baggy jeans that make him look a little ‘skater’. He’s fond of comfortable, looser clothing, not too content in anything that hugs his body too closely, or restricts his movement. A few of his shirts and sweaters have sleeves that are a little too long, and easily reach his knuckles, but that doesn’t seem to bother him. But on the other end of the scale, Toby can sometimes dress a little ‘vintage’, in waistcoats and the like, and he actually even owns a pair of braces/suspenders, though he hasn’t taken them out of his wardrobe in over twenty years, at least not to wear. Colours aren’t much of an issue with Toby; he’s so easy-going, he’ll wear pretty much anything, including pink, if he’s really in the mood. In terms of footwear, Toby is usually found either in a pair of cosy socks or a beaten pair of black and white Converse sneakers; he owns a second pair of sneakers, but in his own words, could live in the Converse. He owns a pair of boots, but isn’t all that fond of wearing them unless he needs to. He wears a black, hooded cloth jacket that reaches his thighs, if the weather calls for it, but usually, he’ll just throw on his denim jacket.
HEIGHT: 5’8.
WEIGHT: 156lbs.
TATTOOS: None.
PIERCINGS: None.
JEWELLERY: Toby carries a pocket watch, but other than that, he doesn’t really wear anything that might constitute as jewellery, save for the odd plastic ‘bracelets’ around his right wrist, usually in black.

BODY MODIFICATIONS: The only thing of note is the simple, often easily missed scar across his right palm, vertically reaching from below his fingers to wrist, about three or four inches in length.

WOLF FORM.

BUILD: Toby is built very much like a common grey wolf in terms of proportions, though he clearly has more muscle than any canis lupus would in the wild, or even in captivity. He has powerful limbs, and though he lacks the necessary extra joint in his hind legs that would allow for bipedal movement, he makes up for this lack of height in his speed and agility, provided by a nimble waist, and the leanness of his frame, allowing for streamline travel. He has a deep chest and neck, the latter leading up to a somewhat stocky skull and compact muzzle that houses sharp teeth and noticeably large upper canines. His paws are exactly the same as any dog or wolf’s, and lack a fifth, thumb-like digit, lowering his dexterity considerably. His ears are rather tall, and wide at the base, tapering up towards the tips. His tail is of moderate length, and rather on the thick, bushy side.
HEIGHT: Quadruped — 4’6. Biped — N/A.
WEIGHT: 235lbs.
HAIR: A dusky kind of light grey, covering the entirety of his body in a full pelt, rather short but protective over the majority of his frame. He has shaggy tufts behind his shoulders and hips, and a spinal ‘ridge’, shallow though it might be, along with a mirroring line on his underbelly. He has a definite mane around his neck, starting between his ears and behind his cheekbones, which reaches right down to his shoulders at the top of his chest and back.
EYES: A shocking, bright blue.
DEFINING MARKS: His full mane, the vibrant eyes, large ears and bushy tail.

PACK.
PACK: Cole’s Pack.
POSITION: Pack Member.
TERRITORY: Cole’s side of Los Angeles.

HAIR.[/i]
LENGTH: In various lengths, Toby’s hair is rather long for a male’s, but he likes it that way, preferring to keep it as such so it gives him the youthful appearance he seems fond of. It’s hard to tell just how long his hair is exactly, but it noticeably reaches midway down his neck at the back, half-covering his ears at the sides, and hangs on his brow at the front if not swept back.
STYLE: Scruffy would be a good word for Toby’s ‘style’, and since his hair is naturally, loosely curly, it’s a little bit difficult for him to tame it, perhaps. He isn’t all that fussed with the tidiness of his human mane, preferring to leave it more on the natural side. Besides, some pack members, Irina Bianchi in particular, seem fond of ruffling it, so styling it would perhaps be rather pointless.
COLOUR: Dark brown.

FACIAL HAIR.[/i]
LENGTH: Minimal, bordering on non-existent. Toby shaves daily, preferring to be clean-shaven.
STYLE: Fine stubble, at best, if anything at all.

EYES.[/i]
COLOUR: Green, though in some lights they can look blue.
ODDITIES: Like all werewolves, Toby’s eyes will change to the colour of his wolf’s if he is experiencing heightened emotions, or if he is in shock/pain or angered. He can also will them to change if he is feeling mischievous, or wishes to taunt/tease/intimidate.

PERSONALITY: Toby is everybody’s friend; that is perhaps the best way to describe the young male. He has always been fascinated with werewolves, and now that he is one, he cherishes each moment, near-immortality aside. He doesn’t take anything for granted, and one ‘thank you’ never seems enough for him. When Toby is grateful, you know about it; it’s as simple as that. He is extremely modest, even shy and awkward when given a compliment, and fumbles badly when praised for something, no matter how small. He acts very much like ‘the shy kid’, albeit without the shy part. If allowed, Toby could talk for hours on a subject he likes, such as movies or art, or heck, even food. He likes to snack, after all, and can often be found nosing through the refrigerator or cupboards for something to munch on; if someone happens upon him during his snack hunts, he will always, always offer to share, regardless of who the other party is.

Toby sees Cole Stanton and Dia Mantenega as parental figures, respecting them more than he can ever put into words, and he never fails to go to one of them if he has a problem, no matter how ridiculous it might seem to an outside party; naturally, Steven Manning and Heidi Fischer are, in a way, the ‘aunt and uncle’ in his eyes, and he enjoys spending time with them, as he does with everyone, very much wanting to fit in and be one of the pack, even though he already is. One of Toby’s constant goals seems to be friendships; he is always looking to forge new ones, and he happens to know each and every member of the pack by sight, always taking the time to learn names to go with new faces. It makes him seem a little nosy or badgering when a new wolf joins the pack, but the others seem to take it in stride.

A people-pleaser, Toby can’t help but want to make people laugh or smile. He’ll agree to help someone with something, and then agree to watch a movie with another person, trying to satisfy or please too many people at one time, but he finds a way to muddle through. He seems incapable of saying no. He often makes lists, if only mentally, to help get him through things, and though literal organisation isn’t one of his strongest points, he will always keep his commitments to pack mates.

The pack are Toby’s friends, his brothers and sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles… they’re his family. He never had a flesh and blood one of his own, and after he became a werewolf and joined the pack, he found the home he had always been searching for. Toby would fight, literal tooth and claw, to defend it and keep it; it is the one thing that can take the gentle Toby that everyone knows and turn him into the fighter than he claims he could never be.

WEAKNESSES: Given that he is a werewolf, Toby is obviously allergic to silver; it can nauseate, burn, poison or kill him, depending on the proximity and duration of contact, and the extent of infection should it infiltrate his body. Should it infect his lungs, heart or brain, the poisoning would be irreversible, and he would ultimately die. Toby’s people-pleasing attitude has the potential to bog him down and overwhelm him, should he ever get himself in too deep and try to do too much at once. His loyalty and love for the pack is an obvious weakness, and he would be easily manipulated and tricked if the pack were used against him.

Because of his age, Toby still cannot control his wolf; not entirely. He is extremely close to accomplishing control, which would enable him to remain human on the nights of the full moon, but though he is near to this goal, he is still not quite there, and as such, must spend the nights of the peak of the lunar cycle in the basement of the hotel along with the other pack youngsters.

Toby is solely left-handed, and cannot utilise his right hand, being in no way ambidextrous. He can obviously use it as any other left-handed person uses their right, but if his left hand were to be immobilised or wounded significantly, he would be unable to wield a weapon. He is also very much not a fighter, even with the natural weapons and reflexive skills he possesses as a werewolf, and should he be thrown into a combat situation, he would easily be cornered or overwhelmed.

ABILITIES: To even out the inherited weakness to silver, Toby has all the genetic benefits of lycanthropy: enhances senses, speed, strength, reflexes, agility, grace, balance, endurance and stamina; heightened pain threshold; an increased healing factor; the ability to leap to, from and across great distances without penalty; and of course, the transformations that change him from man to wolf and back again. Toby has an artist’s eye, and can often be found sketching or doodling, if nothing else is occupying his time; he likes to draw the other members of the pack, and actually has a sketchbook or two full of renditions of his pack mates, though he is very shy about letting people know, in case they take it the wrong way. He is also something of a movie buff, and the extent of useless trivia he knows is rather baffling.

WEAPONS: Toby is against violence in general, and as such, has no weapons other than what his lycanthropy gives him naturally.

PRIZED POSSESSIONS: His pocket watch.

HOME(S): The Hyperion, with the rest of the pack.

HISTORY: Toby Shanker never met his parents, and was never sure if he was orphaned, abandoned, or willingly left in the cheap excuse for an adoption home that he grew up in. From a young age, he was curious about rumours and mythology, particularly werewolves, and it earned him the reputation as ‘the odd kid’. The kids of the home stuck together though, going from one minor adventure to the other, if only to pass the time. Toby wasn’t sure what it was that made him unappealing to families who came, and he watched as friends came and went, finding new families and moving on with their lives. It made him wonder if he wasn’t meant to have that kind of life; maybe he was meant for ‘bigger things’.

Prone to wandering from the home on his own, especially after all of his original friends had been found homes, Toby often went on his own little hunts. Werewolves fascinated him, and he was determined to find one.

It was only when he was in his twenties that he finally did. By this point in his life, he had become a ‘permanent resident’ of the home, more a staff member than anything else, though he had nothing much to offer, except compassion and a friendly face, and the kids seemed to welcome and appreciate that. It gave him some semblance of purpose at least, but that didn’t seem enough. He adored the kids, but he had his heart set on that discovery.

It was a balmy evening, mid-August, when he finally made it. Wandering through the tall grass outside the woods not far from the town where the home was settled, he stumbled across a creature, barely moving. As he drew closer, curious and disbelieving as to what it really might be, he realised it was wounded. He spoke to the creature, sitting beside it. It made no move to harm him; in fact, it seemed to welcome the company, and the softness in Toby’s voice. Its wound was vicious, but Toby was quietly confident that it could be healed. He knew what he had found; he knew. It was a werewolf.

Sure enough, the wolf-creature began to change back into a young woman, and after Toby gave her his jacket, they headed back for the home where they found her the medical care she needed. Toby was the one to treat her, keeping her presence quiet as long as he could. He spent time with her, learning her name, and about her life. She even confided in him, telling him she had lost her brother and her mate, the only pack she had known; they had been separated. She was extremely grateful to the young human, and asked him if there was any way she could repay him for showing her kindness.

Perhaps she knew what he would ask for. Either way, she hardly seemed surprised when he asked, somewhat meekly, to be like her. With a quiet smile, trusting he understood what he was asking for, she took a knife, cutting his palm open, before slitting her own, uniting their hands so their blood could mix, and so her lycanthropy could take hold. The effort proved successful, shown by the quickly-healing cut that vanished after only a few days. It left a scar, but with what she had given him, Toby was indifferent to the fact.

When she told Toby she was leaving, he asked to go with her. She warned him that, should she find them again, her brother and mate were none-too-welcoming to strangers, even ones so kind and helpful as he was, but he accepted that; he simply wished to leave the home, and lacked the courage to go alone. She agreed, granting him permission to accompany her, and so it was that Toby left the only home he had ever known, travelling with the female werewolf; Aimee, his sire.

They did indeed find Aimee’s brother and mate, and just as she had warned him, though they were acknowledging and grateful of his help, they were hardly welcoming, and though he was saddened by the idea of parting ways with Aimee forever, he respected their wishes. He and Aimee said their goodbyes, and he set off alone. It didn’t take him long to realise that not only did he hate the solitude, but he had little to no idea as to how to fend for himself.

It was a stroke of luck that he encountered the pack, hungry and lost. He only realised he had been followed when he heard the death rattle of a vampire, seconds before its eruption into ash, and the fully transformed, large black male that strode towards him, flanked by several others, had him immediately awe-struck; the young animal within him seemed to recognise the superiority and power of the large wolf. This was Toby’s first meeting with Cole Stanton, and some of the fighters. They took Toby under their wing, and it didn’t take him long to win pack members over, earning himself the affectionate nickname of ‘Pup’.

Not only has he finally discovered his rightful place in the world, but Toby has finally found his family.