Physical Appearance[edit | edit source]
Max is noticeably quite tall, often standing a head taller than most other men, and is estimated to be approximately 7 and half feet tall. He is also solidly built. While not body builder level, it is clear that he is athletic and definitely puts in his time lifting weights.
He is your typical American mutt, hailing from a mixture of heritages. His father is of Danish descent, and his mother an even mix of Cajun-French and Choctaw. His skin is tanned, though more from time spent outdoors than from being naturally dark. His hair is black, though has lightened to a deep brown from his time in the sun. The pale golden hue of his eyes is an inherited trait of his birth pack.
When shifted in either his wolf or beast form, his fur is dark, and his eyes remain golden though are much brighter and even glow at times.
Both of Max's ears or heavily pierced, though he has no facial piercings at all. He is also heavily tattooed, with upper chest, upper back and full sleeves. There are also a series of dates down his right side, and a viking warrior holding a shield on his left. His right leg is also sleeved, though anything more than the markings on his calf are rarely seen by anyone other than Paislee.
Personality[edit | edit source]
The version of Max you get depends largely on you. At times he seems like just a regular good ol' boy with an easy grin, and a southern drawl. He is generally polite, and even friendly in a professional sort of way, with most people, and if he's not...well you likely did something to draw his ire. While he can be sociable when he needs to be, he is actually more of a homebody, preferring to spend his free time with his mate, their son and his pack.
Max is loyal to a fault and fiercely protective of those that he cares for. He has done many terrible things in his life, and while he doesn't relish having more blood on his hands...there are no limits to what he is willing to do for those he loves. During tense moments he is either annoyingly calm or murderous, there is no in between. Either way, he is usually quiet while planning his next moves. If you are the source of the problem he is trying to solve...you should probably be panicking.
He silently struggles with his own PTSD, and a large amount of survivor's guilt, but has never sought out any type of professional help. He, instead, focuses are trying to balance the scales (so to speak) by helping others however he can.
Likes: Working out, bikes & cars, weapons, outdoors/nature, Pais
Dislikes: Disrespect, dishonesty, fucking with his people, bullies, assholes
Hobbies: Working out, free climbing, video games, hunting & tracking, football, camping, riding his motorcycle, doing anything with Paislee
Addictions: Before moving to Clifton Forge he used booze, violence & sex to fill the void.
Phobias: Losing those he cares for
Powers and Abilities[edit | edit source]
Max is a werewolf, and therefore has all strengths accompanying his race.[edit | edit source]
Honed Senses I
History[edit | edit source]
Max was born in a small town in South East Texas, and by all accounts lead the life of a typical southern boy. He went hunting and fishing with his father, uncles and cousins; he played football from the time he had enough coordination to toss one, and spent the majority of his time outside in nature. The main difference was that he was a born wolf, was raised in a pack...a rather large, yet close knit group of extended family lead by his father. Max's father, Augustin, had taken over leading the pack from his father who had in turn taken it over from his, and it was assumed that he would continue in that path. Della, his mother was the daughter of an alpha and had imagined ruling equally with her husband...when that did not happen her only hope to gain the power she wanted was to groom her son to take it for her.
To say his parents were not in love was an understatement, the two halves of his parental unit barely tolerated one another. While his mother was set on her course, Max's father seemed set on on postponing his son's rise for as long as possible...encouraging his distractions from the lessons his mother forced down his throat. Augustin, much to his wife's protests, allowed his son to enroll in a public high school and then encouraged him to join the football team, attend the parties...chase girls. When the scholarship to a university up north fell into his lap, his father pushed him to accept. The idea of a four year long vacation from the bickering of his parents while playing ball, drinking his fill, and partying with hot co-eds seemed like a dream. It was a dream that wouldn't last.
It was in the middle of his junior when one too many infractions got him kicked from the team...no ball, no scholarship. He refused to tuck tail and run back home...freedom was just too sweet. Instead, he joined the Marines and set off on a new adventure. The advantages his true nature gave him were hard to ignore, and he made quite the impression at boot and beyond. His first deployment was straight to Iraq, and his commanding officers there were just as impressed. For the next few years he rose through the ranks, but refused any promotion that could see him taken from the field. He was eventually hand picked for a SpecOps team, and saw many of the worst places anyone could imagine. He carried out the kind of missions that are only spoken of in heavily redacted classified files. He killed and maimed, tortured people, and destroyed buildings and monuments. He saw and did horrible things, he saw friends and brothers shot down and ripped apart...all in the name of his country.
He was leading a team of his own, working in conjunction with a group of PMCs when a war reporter was assigned to them. The journalist wound up being an old friend from his fraternity...he was a wolf, too and they had bonded almost instantly...a two wolf pack. It was supposed to be a rather uneventful mission, scouting and Intel gathering but one of the PMCs made a crucial error and landed them in enemy territory. They were attacked and Max's friend, Liam, was taken hostage. Most of his team were critically wounded, and in dire need of medical attention, while the PMCs were mostly unharmed. A fight broke out between him and the civilian soldiers ending with them on the ground and him loading his men into their vehicle so he could get them back to base. Once his team was safe he was gone again, off on his own to get Liam back.
On paper, Max is a highly decorated war hero...and even if he went against orders, attacked a group of civilians, stole their vehicle and left them alone in known enemy territory...a jury of his peers would never rule against him. Instead he was urged not not re-enlist, and sent off with a half-hearted pat on the back and all of the accommodations and awards that would find him easily employable. Not knowing what else to do he found himself back home, trying to fit into his pack..into a role he had far outgrown. He joined the police academy, and then on to the state police, but even that couldn't fill the hole that had been left in him. He was numb...empty...and he tried his best to fix that with booze, women and violence. It sorta worked, but it was short lived...and eventually he went too far. He was given the choice of prison or leaving town...he knew if he ended up behind bars he would never get out, and so...he left.
He found home again in Clifton Forge with Liam, who had grown up in the sleepy little town, and was soon introduced to Paislee. Within a few months he was Sheriff Holden, co-alpha of a pack of his own, and an engaged father-to-be... It was exactly where he never knew he needed to be, and exactly what he never knew he wanted.