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Information Known by the Garou Nation

Name: Blaez Buchanan, Fenris’ Fortitude

Notable Traits: Hyper-protective of his pack, Loves a good joke and a good fight, Impatient to a fault

Pack: Relentless


Sept: Sept of the Bayou's Rage

First Change

       I’m not like most people you’ll see writing their history down. I had some real good friends growing up. My mom and dad had really good jobs that kept me in books and, once they came out, video games; it was great. The only thing was, I had a temper. Looking back on that fact now, it isn’t so strange… But I cause my parents no end of worry with it, be it breaking a Nintendo controller or my fist on a wall because something rubbed me the wrong way at school… I always lost my temper at something and it never seemed to take much to do so. I say it makes more sense now, but from what I’ve learned, I may just be trying to make myself feel better.

You’ve got to understand something about me before I go any farther. I was and am a self-blamer. If something goes wrong, especially when dealing with people, I am quick to blame myself first. My anger seemed to always be aimed more inwards than anything, but that would generally bubble out into some small spectacle for those around me to see. The few friends I had where I grew up learned to shrug it off because they knew that the emotion was not specifically aimed at them. It wasn’t until someone decided to get physical with me that the anger that I felt would start getting directed at someone else, though that only happened a couple of times. All the way up until it happened, that’s the way it was. Being pissed at myself for some faux pas or at this or that bully for picking on me or my friends physically.

       There. That’s a thing you know about me now. My violence is mainly reactive… Generally my bark is worse than my bite, you could say… Moving on.
      My freshman year of high school started out great. My friends and I were finally part of the big kids club. We felt like we were finally going to be cool in this school. New school, new start, a chance to grow our legacy. That was a dream shattered by the world of Corporate America, though, at least for me. My Dad got some sort of job offer with a huge pay raise in Houston and he decided that we were going to move during Christmas break so as not to interrupt my school year. I begged my parents to let me stay the rest of the school year with my best friend at the time just so I wouldn’t be arriving at a new school in the middle of the year; neither of them went for it. So it went that I was arriving at a brand new high school in the middle of the year. No friends, no idea where the ‘cool spots’ were in Houston, no real urge to fit in and mingle with this alien breed of teenager that I suddenly found myself in the company of. It was hectic, so I was a target. The fact that I was a little shorter than average, a little overweight, and the new kid made me an even bigger target. I cannot say I had a fun time.	
       I endured a lot of crap from a lot of kids that didn’t have anything better to do with their time than throw barbed comments and straight insults at me. At first, I threw them back, gave them a taste of their own medicine. That just made the situation worse, so I went quiet. I didn’t speak, hardly ever looked up from my shoes, nothing. The insults eventually stopped, for the most part, but I remained guarded. This led to me making zero friends or even acquaintances, really, for the remainder of that year. I felt like it was because I was too different… Maybe it was because I was too good at ignoring the higher than average number of pukes in the school to allow the genuine ones to get close to me. Either way, I found myself alone in the labyrinth known as high school.	
       I could have jumped for joy when I finally got home after the last day of school was over. It was a monumentally freeing feeling. Here I was. I wouldn’t have to put up with anything that the school had offered me. No jerks filling their free time with throwing things at me. No teachers, no homework, no obligatory group work that forced me to act like I wanted to be included for a grade, and – the best thing – no one to have to speak to outside of my own family or one of my best friends from back home over the phone. It was just me, my books, and my videogames. I was in heaven.

I should have known that it was too good to last.

       About half way through the summer, my Playstation 2 bought the farm. It sucked. I almost cried… ok, not really, but still, it really sucked. I thought about asking my parents to replace it, but the games I had were getting boring and the next one I wanted didn’t come out until December that year. I turned to my books for a little while but, the way I go through books and how often and fast I read turned that into an exercise in monotony as well. I was bored. I wanted to discover something new. I had actively avoided going outside my house unless it was to read in the backyard like the plague. I didn’t like it out there. It was too people, but my curiosity finally got the better of me one afternoon. I grabbed my bike and headed out into the neighborhood. Who knew, maybe the near-by apartment complex had a pool that I could sneak into.	
       To my surprise, I didn’t get jacked with at all while I was out exploring the neighborhood. No real incidents occurred unless you count the time that I ate dirt in a pretty spectacular way in front of a couple of really hot senior girls. I might have been showing off, but that is beside the point. After that I actively avoided that side of the neighborhood, I didn’t like the taste of humble pie. It was good that I went another direction because I found a park on the other side of my neighborhood. It was huge for this area and offered plenty of shade trees to read under. I was in heaven again. I found out that a couple of Muscle Bros were more than willing to include me in their game of Frisbee on the days that I didn’t feel like getting lost in the same book over and over again. It was great and I was actually happy for the first time since moving to Houston.	
       The best day that summer saw me getting invited to play disc golf with the Muscle Bros and then to eat some burgers with them. One of their siblings was having a party and they had decided that I was ‘pretty chill’ for a teenager. It was a great time had by all that were in attendance that day. We played disc golf, threw the Frisbee, had an impromptu water balloon fight when someone showed up late. I laughed a lot more than I had in a long time and the day disappeared as it does when one is having fun. It was getting hard to see the Frisbee in the twilight when the Bros decided it was time to take off finally – way past the time that I was usually home and relaxing after a shower. I should have taken the ride they offered, but I had my bike and I thought I’d be fine.	
       I remember everything from that night in vivid detail. The way the air smelled, the way the wind felt as it flowed over my skin… the way my least favorite voice and insult blasted into my peaceful bubble like Fat Man blasted into Nagasaki.	
       “Well if it ain’t Puke-cannon!”	
       The voice of James ‘Jimmy’ Greenfield sent a steel rasp over every single nerve I had. I did everything I could to ignore the bastard, but the idiot was like a festering splinter – you could not ignore him once you knew he was there.	
       “Hey! Fat boy! Suuuuey!” Greenfield was a sentient (I use the term lightly) festering splinter. “Hey pig, pig, pig!	
       I have puzzled over what flew out of my mouth next for the past fourteen years. “I’m pretty sure your sister’s out of earshot, Jim.” I had stopped and faced him. Even in the failing light I could see the blood drain from his face and rage fill his eyes.	
       I has stuck my nose in the air, at this point, and interrupted his enraged question, “I’m pretty sure she’s downwind too,” I shook my head, “I can’t smell her.”	
       I knew I was in for a fight when he closed the distance in between us at a dead run. It didn’t promise to be much of one, I remember thinking, but I was tired of the insults. He would know who I was when I got through with him. Time seemed to slow down as I thought on what my counter would be. Thoughts snapped around in my head like piranha in a feeding frenzy, but then he was there and I decided to just take the first hit.	
       Pain and pure, seething, hate filled rage responded to that hit. For the split second that I was still sane even I knew that this was not my typical reaction to being punched in the face. Sure, I hated it as much as the next person, but this? I’ll never forget what happened next. It is etched indelibly in my mind. The pain his fist caused in my face did not stop there. Curiouser, the pain started intensifying. Five, ten, one hundred fold. I felt my body begin to shift as the pain climaxed. Faintly, though I can’t be sure, I thought I heard a scream of pure, abject terror as the monster I was becoming started tearing at the psyche of my tormentor. After my bones, muscles, and skin settled into their new places pain became replaced by a fury I had never known. Rage had a new definition in my mind and I vented it on the human in front of me, claws flaying the skin of his neck and torso. I still catch visions of this murder in my mind, now and again, and even though I know I was not in control of my actions, it does not lessen the blow of the fact that I snuffed a life out for no other reason than it was there for the taking.	
       If you asked what happened in the next few minutes or hours, I could not tell you. I had no real idea of what was going on at the time, but – all I remember is – I was pissed about it. My sharpest memories are of animals dying in my claws and jaws and the strong scent of fear as I tromped through the trees. Everything was dead silent except for my foot falls and the sounds of the far off city. I must have, at some point, gotten used to the silence and smell of fear because, when I heard and smelled something else, a howl ripped itself from my powerful new lungs and I propelled myself towards the thunderous cacophony of a helicopter and the peppery spice of adrenaline that the wind was carrying my way.	
       My monstrous form broke into an area suspiciously devoid of any obstruction associated with even the smallest of forests. This served me, and my insatiable rage, well – I thought – until the two black clad figures on the ground raised their weapons and fired. They were trained well. The muzzles flashed simultaneously and, half an instant later, pain lacerated my torso and a sound like thunder pierced my eardrums. I do not know how they expected me to react, but at least one First Team member did not expect me to charge. Did not expect to see me become even more enraged. He hit the ground in a graceless heap as the two on the ground continued firing controlled pairs in my direction.	
       By the time I descended upon my first target blood had already seeped down most of my torso, though I took little noticed. With an enraged snarl I set upon the first member of the team with tooth and claw, rendering him useless to his comrades in a matter of moments. More silver poured around me than hit me in the next few seconds, but I could feel the harm these insignificants were inflicting. I had to stop getting hit or, my raging mind decided, kill these mooks faster. With that logic firmly in mind, the second and third members of the team went down gargling on their own blood, not managing to cling to life any longer than it took them to sink to the ground.	
       I turned from the most recent victims and observed the last two members of the first team scrambling to reload their weapons. I launched myself at the fourth, graceless, member with an ear shattering roar. I sank a clawed hand into his chest when I reached him and jerked his suddenly limp body towards me. I felt the heat of his breath on my muzzle before relieving him of his carotid artery and jugular vein by way of my monstrous jaws. His life blood added to the nightmare that was already gore stained chest. I turned toward the fifth man. The cannons of a gun that he held meant nothing to me. What would another sting do but annoy me? The enraged frenzy of my mind did not allow me to assess the situation and I paid for it dearly. The rifle roared once and an incredible pain and force ripped through my chest. My momentum was halted just steps short of him and I think I might have even flown backwards a few feet. I was able to raise my head enough to see what was supposed to be my next victim taking aim at my head, no doubt to end my life for good.	
       As everything started to fade out, sharp lines becoming blurred, I saw a form come from the non-existent shadows behind the man with the gun. My last glimpse of the world, that evening, was of a blurry form making short work of my last target.

Time Line

1987 - Blaez Buchanan is born into the world.

2002 - First Change; Kills his childhood bully James Greenfield and four out of five members of a First Team; Riddled with Silver, Blaez goes unconscious and is saved by Jeremiah Grey

2005 - Earns the Deed Name 'Rends the Foe' after completing his Rite of Passage

2008 - Joins Pack Relentless

2009 - Participates in the battle to defend his home Sept from destruction by Black Spiral Dancers, First Teams, and Fomori - Witnesses the fall of 80% of those tied to the Caern and the Caern's destruction

2014 - Blaez joins a Quest with his Pack to obtain a Caern Seed; Becomes a founding member of the Sept of the Bayou's Rage

2014 - Blaez completes his Fostern Rank Challenge earning the Deed Name 'Fenris' Fortitude"

2015 - Blaez wins the title of Wyrmfoe of the Sept of the Bayou's Rage just after Jeremiah Grey becomes the Sept Alpha

OOC Information

Player: Ryno H.

Storyteller: Andy Lambert

Location: Houston, TX