Ambrose Emerson

[Ambrose Emerson]

AMBROSE EMERSON

Nickname(s): "Some people call me Amby or Em."
Age: "I was nineteen when turned, but in reality I'm twenty one."
Birthday: My birthday? Sure thing, it's December 11th.
Gender: "Couldn't you tell I'm a guy?"
Sexual Orientation: "Straight as a ruler, hun."
Ethnicity: "I'm Italian American and pretty damn proud of it."
Species: "I want to say I'm human, shame I'm actually a shape shifting wolf - y'know, a werewolf."
Job: "'Fraid I don't have a job at the moment, I'm an unemployed layabout."

Piercings: "Metal in my face, geez, you've gotta be kiddin' - I ain't having no piercings, not now, not ever."
Tattoos: "I've only just got one actually, it's on the side of my body, kinda around the hip bone - it's of a squid taking down a pirate ship, all in Sailor Jerry colour, it's sick. I'm definitely thinking of getting a few more."
Scars: "Awh man, I've gotten plenty of them over the years, I've got a pretty nasty one across my stomach from when I had my appendix out though - oh, and there's another on the top of my wrist where the bone came out after I crashed my bike and broke my arm. Yeah, I know, I'm a clutz."

Important Family Relationships: "I'm from Italian stock, everyone in my family is important! If I had to pick I'd choose my brother, Noah, my Uncle Ajax and my mother, Davina...I can't say my dad though, 'fraid he's long gone."
Non-Family Important Relationships: "Considering I only just moved here I can't say I know too many of the folks, so no, no one here for me."

Likes: "Only five on all of these? You're kiddin', right? Alrighty then, I love, love, love v neck tops, especially in white or black; I'm also a nicotine addict, so I'm gonna have t0o admit I like smoking - rollies, of course. Uhm, have to say I'm a sucker for those Starbucks' Caramel Frappuchinos, man, they're tasty; oh, and steak, but super rare, dripping with blood - I'd eat it live. Joking, joking - or am I? Aha, bring me to my last one, being sarcasm."
Dislikes: Same as the last one, I guess. Well, I sure hate baked beans, awful things make me feel so ill whenever I see them; another would be modern rap, it just grates so bad on me, that and all the women bashing and shit - it's not right; I have some deep dislike for soccer, I can't stand it - it's almost as great as my loathing of out of tune instruments, ugh. Last one, something that really gets me irrate is people dressing up their dogs in clothes - it's ridiculous!"
Fears: "I'm fearless! I kid, I'm pretty nervous in small spaces, and I don't really enjoy being on boats, or being in deep water - bad experiences, I guess. Another thing I'd say I'm fearful of is transforming at an impromptu time...that something awful happening when I'm in that state, my mind just isn't all there, it scares the shit out of me."
Dreams: "Dreams...I used to have so much I wanted to do with my life, I guess my dream would be to be human again and actually find a cure for lycanthropy, I think that it would help a lot of people."

Transformation: "I don't particularly like to talk about this, it's still pretty raw in my memory. I remember that a few friends and myself had gone camping in the woods, not far from my house - there were six of us; Jacob, Addison, Zac, Gideon, Phil and me. We'd literally just fixed up the tent and decided to go and snag some firewood, Jake and Zac had gone a little further ahead of us, it was getting kind of dark too, I could only just make out their silhouettes through the trees. Then bam, outta no where I hear one of them yelling and running back to us. He had mud kicked up onto his face and clothes, he kept whimpering about a wolf - Zac didn't appear with him. We all decided to go back to base, calm Jake down, he was a wreck. In the end we decided to stay put, have one of us keep watch every hour and wait for Zac. Come my second shift I decided to stretch my legs, see if Zac had found his way back. I wrote a note and left it by the tent entrance. I just kept walking, I mean, I must've just forgotten how far I'd gone...but soon I heard footfalls - I followed the snapping of twigs underfoot. It was Zac, muddied and smeared in blood, clothes shredded and a hollow look in his eyes. He told me to leave, to go back, to go home. I pleaded with him to come back to no avail, and then the sound of rapid thuds. I remember the awful pain of being bitten by a dog when I was younger...but this, this was something else. My calf buckled underneath me and Zac did nothing, just bitterly looked on. I managed to kick the wolf off, dragging myself back, away from it and Zac. I slept on the leafy floor and dragged myself towards the yells of my friends come morning. I was admitted to hospital with a shattered fibula and tibia, the doctors were worried I had already began to weaken from it's infection - I was running a damn hot fever and I was lethargic. Yet, somehow, healing that should've taken months and physiotherapy had occured within a week, my 'infection' had cleared up and I was free to go. I knew something was up. I was reading in bed when it first happened. I began to tense up, like cramp, and then quiver, that's my best explanation and then...and then I was it; I was a hulking mass of fur, I felt wild, buzzing - it was only for a minute or so. I was back. It scared me so, so much. I didn't believe it had happened, but it had. Since when were werewolves real? It made me think of Zac a few weeks before. He warned me."


History: "I don't particularly enjoy the past - I'm a forward looker. I was brought up in a pretty average family, Italian Americans, family is still a big thing. I'd finished high school at eighteen, played as quarterback on the football team and had a nice GPA of 3.8, I'm pretty intelligent, shame I'm a wolf, huh? I've never actually had a job and I never started college because of the camping trip - I applied to Dartmouth though. There isn't really that much more to my 'history' - let's just move on to the next question."
Medical History: "Other than my shattered fibula and tibia I've managed to snap my ulna and dislocate a few fingers playing football. That and I got diagnosed with some kind of anxiety disorder a couple of years back, social anxiety disorder or something. Nothing too serious, especially now I'm a freakin' dog."
Criminal History:"Criminal history? I'm a good boy. No record for me, I'd never get caught anyway."