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Old May 6th, 2013 (3:39 PM). Edited May 10th, 2013 by Skymin.
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Skymin Skymin is offline
part time demon hunter
Crystal Tier
Join Date: Sep 2006
Location: AU
Age: 23
Nature: Quirky
Posts: 5,134
// W I L D L I N G

Age: 22
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 175lbs
Mackenzie (or Macca as his friends call him) is a perfectly average human being with nothing physically setting him out above the norm. His unkept, shaggy, dark brown hair gets in his brown eyes every now and again, which he lazily flicks to the right when he can be bothered. His face is not pudgy not skinny, perhaps a little on the lean side with well shaped chin, a slightly crooked nose and a warm smile on his face. His facial hair is not completely feral, but not always smooth. He probably goes three or four weeks at a time before he decides to shave again. His skin is naturally olive and he could probably pull off a nice tan if he was bothered to go outside and get one.

His clothes are easy and it doesn't take much to please Macca. T-shirts and jeans are his usual, perhaps accompanied by a scruffy hoodie and a pair of shoes that are on their way to becoming unwearable. It's not that he's poor, but because he's too lazy to buy clothes and only when they've become almost rags is when he decides to buy some more. He has no real accessories par a simple necklace with a blue stone pendant he received from his mother when he was younger.

As normal people go, Mackenzie is one of the most laid back and nicest guys ever. You could insult the dude and he'd probably compliment you on your insulting skills. He hardly sees the wrong in people and honestly, thinks everyone is a saint. Well, unless they are a total scumbag in a way of harassing people unnecessarily or actually physically hurting people. He can see that fine. In fact, because he's such a nice guy, he'd stand up for the underdog and call that scumbag a "dumbhead" or something harmless. He rarely gets angry or frustrated with people so he can keep his cool pretty good.

Mackenzie is not a leader and couldn't possibly fill the shoes of one. He'd rather take orders than give them, but in saying that, he can see if something needs to be done. If anything, he's more of a loner than a team player. He's capable of looking after himself and has done so since he was sixteen or so and prefers that others don't worry about him. His burdens are his burdens and he'd rather not share them with anyone else.

Macca was born to a small, nice Welsh family in Surrey. His mother was a stay-at-home one and his father a dentist and their family lived comfortably. Mackenzie sat in the centre of the family, with an older (by 2 years) brother, Derek, and a younger (by 3 years) sister, Emilia and this suited Macca just fine. His entire life was spent being unnoticed, from his birth all the way to high school, and he much rathered cheering on his siblings at their amazing sport or academic achievements than actually try for them himself. And MacKenzie was very much happy with his mediocre life until his brother's 18th birthday.

See, the whole mutant thing that had been going on was not something the O'Connell family associated themselves with. The closest they had come to mingling with mutants was Emilia's best friend, who found out she could emit light by will one night at a sleepover. Of course, Emilia's friend sort of disappeared after that, not that it bothered the family much. So, when Mackenzie's ability came to light, it was nothing less than a surprising shock, especially as it was far more dangerous than glowing.

So, at Derek's 18th, his friends had begun to get a little silly especially since it was the first time Derek was able to drink alcohol legally. Mackenzie, as a lax 16 year old, watched the party from a comfortable distance, laughing at the stupid things the older boys and girls did while under the influence. As the night pressed on and the parents went to bed, the entertainment got a little more violent and a fight started between Derek and one of his friends. When fists started to fly, Macca stepped in, and tried to split it up and instead received a lovely punch to the face. Then, his brother got shoved to the floor.

Being a lax guy, Mackenzie was not one to get angry or rough, but because these guys (older and bigger than him, let's add) had began to kick the daylights out of his brother and nothing Mackenzie could do could stop them, he got frustrated. And angry. Why were they hurting his older brother like this? Why couldn't Mackenzie do anything to stop them? And then, he felt his skin ripple, his entire body felt like it was on fire and then, he blacked out.

When he came to, it was the next morning and he had somehow found his way to his bed. His family was standing around him at a safe distance, cautiously looking at him. The conversation was a careful one, his parents slowly moving closer and laying the news on him. It seemed that although nobody was fatally wounded, Mackenzie had sent all of the offending boys to the hospital. Then, his brother tried to make it clear what he had seen; his brother was an enormous dog. Or wolf. Something with teeth.

After the incident had been cleaned up, his parents, though they loved him, began to distance themselves. Eventually, they were scared to even ask him to do anything except one thing; to leave. He obliged, understanding how his parents felt, and has lived by himself on youth allowance and small pay from working at a pet shop.

The X-Men approached Mackenzie, as he was far too lazy for the other way around. When they asked him if he wanted to learn to control his ability, he accepted. Since the incident at the party, he had been in what he had called first form' at least fifty times (usually in his own home outside his control), second form at least twenty and the third form maybe four or five. To be able to control it was something that was something he probably wanted to do. Probably.


Therianthropy but instead of being based off the moon like popular culture, it relies on his mood, usually his anger or his anxiety. He has almost impossibly a second heart which keeps his second form alive. When he starts to get angry or feels as if he is in danger, his second heart begins to beat faster and triggers a transformation. Of course, Mackenzie doesn't know he has a second heart. He's never done anything dangerous enough to warrant an x-ray or actually checked his own pulse properly.

His go-to form is a wolf but he has the potential (but not that he knows of and probably not for a while) for other carnivorous mammal forms, such as tiger, bear, etc.

His forms are in stages, not immediate transformations. His first form is sharpened teeth, heightened senses, heightened speed, heightened strength... the usual werewolf gig. His second form he begins to take the physical appearance of his werebeast and works on impulses and instincts. His third and last form is full transformation and acts like an animal. He has no control over these changes as of yet. But, being a pretty lax guy, he has never seen the point to. Not yet, anyways.

Writing Sample:
"Uh, no miss. Your fish is dead," Mackenzie pointed at the obviously deceased guppie floating in bag that Mrs. Jamison had her death grip around. She, on the other hand refused to believe an upside down fish with an awful case of rigor mortis meant that it was no longer with the living. She pouted back at poor Mackenzie and shook her head again.

"No! No, he is alive! He was doing this this very morning and I tapped the glass and he just sprang back to life! Your fish is defective! I demand another!!" she thrust her hand hard onto the table, forgetting about the bag it held. Then, physics worked its magic and the force of her hand on the table caused the bag to explode all over the counter. The fish went upwards and landed somewhere in Mrs. Jamison's hair, who proceeded to scream loudly trying to flick it out. "No! Get out, get out!"

"Uh..." Mackenzie turned to his younger and less experienced co-worker, Wendy and shrugged his shoulders.

She giggled in reply, "want me to take over?"

"You're an angel," he sighed, trudging away as Wendy began to apologise profusely to Mrs. Jamison and offer her other fish. Of course, Mackenzie couldn't just abandon his work, he just needed to find something else to do. The puppies looked like they needed some attention. And that was away from people. That seemed cool enough.

The puppies barked happily as Mackenzie waved at them, their tails wagging at warp speed. He wasn't sure that they were happy because he was the one that usually fed them or because he was a person and people apparently, to dogs, were exciting.

"Hey pup," Mackenzie opened the door to the puppy pen and put a hand in, letting them lick or nip or whatever they wanted to it. He gave them a gentle pat every now and again, which only made them more excited. Then, one of them peed themselves. Thank heavens they were in a pen filled with newspaper to absorb the pee and not on Mackenzie's lap, like the last three times.

"You seem to be very good with puppies," a voice from behind said. Mackenzie didn't bother looking around, but replied all the same.

"Uh, thanks, I guess. They just like me because I give them food," he slowly pulled his hand out and closed and locked the puppy pen. Standing up straight, he turned to face the man. He didn't recognise his face, so he wasn't a regular like most of the people who shopped here. He wasn't a mother with her children either, so why was he in the puppy section. What he did notice was the patch on the man's sleeve; a yellow and orange X. Someone was a fan, then. "How can I help you, sir?"

"Perhaps, Mackenzie," the man glanced at his nametag, "I can help you. I represent an organisation fit with helping individuals such as yourself."

"What, Professor Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters?" Mackenzie joked.





"We know about you, Mr. O'Connell, and everything you are," the man pulled a card out of his nicely pressed jacket and handed it to Mackenzie's stained fingers. The contrast between the clean man and Mackenzie's scruffy attire made Mackenzie feel like a homeless bum. Which was almost what he was. Except he had a home. He was still a bum. "Give us a call anytime. We'll be waiting."

"Thanks," Mackenzie stared at the card and the man took this as a cue to leave. The entire store seemed to stare at him as he did, including Ms. Jamison and Wendy at the counter. Mackenzie made a face and thrust the card into his pocket. He'd read into it later.

"Who was that?" Wendy nudged Macca as Ms. Jamison walked away with yet another fish, destined for misery and despair. "What was with the patch? Was he cosplaying as Wolverine or something?"

"I don't think Wolverine wears suits," Mackenzie rubbed his stubble, sighed and continued with work. Whatever that consisted of.
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