Rory Avery
Faceclaim: Sam Heughan
Species: Pure Nephilim
Age: Looks 30 | Real 33
Status: Warrior; In the community
Family: None

Born in Scotland during the great Glasgow ice cream Wars, a violent turf war despite the name and one still being fought, leaving Rory's parents with not choice but to surrender their only son to a church in the area for any hope of his survival. They were both Nephilim’s forced to reveal themselves to the church as a final sacrifice to save their son and church delegation that now cared for him. So like the hunch back of Notre Dame the Church's bell ringer he became. “Who knew such a beautiful sound, could have such a morbid after tone.” For years he lived here, protected under the rights of sanctuary, knowing of the world, the war, and his parent’s sacrifice but no one on the outside knowing of him. The priests and nuns and anyone else that came treated him well. Raising him as best they knew how to raise an angel. Like Eli raising Samuel they did what they could for as long as they could until the war came breaking down their front doors, Rory was ten then.

The Lyons gang, though they referred to themselves as a clan, burst through the door first. Promising protection if the church first protected them. So in secret, they hid and fought with the church as their secret safe haven and base of operation, taking Rory under their wings despite the Nuns and Priest disapproval. They trained him for months, teaching him the art of war and ways of life in a gang, and then the day came for him to put it all to the test when the rival gang broke into the church in the night. So taking up arms with the Lyons to protect the only family he ever really knew, he fought, and found he was good at it. If only he knew then that fighting with this gang would cost him his freedom.

The Lyons took him with them, threatening to destroy everything he held dear if he did not do what they wanted. Not having much but the church and his own life he agreed and quickly rose in the ranks with them as he grew. It started off with just small tasks, delivering secret messages and packages, to eventually be a drug runner. He did this for the most of his childhood until he got too big and noticeable to sneak in and down the hidden paths, he once fit into. So a goon he became with no choice of his own, doing the Lyons dirty work and often always on the front lines of any and every physical fight they had. He ganged a name for himself on both sides, with the Lyons he was their war champion, but for the rival, he was their threat. A threat they wanted for themselves.

Molotov cocktails lit the dark night and burned down on the streets as, at last, the Lyons defences fell. That was the first time Rory experienced his powers first hand., he had heard tale of his parents and the church never hid from him what he was. But as he laid there with burns all across his skin he realized, it in time, as he healed that he was, in fact, something more. The Daniels gang had him now and so into the same war but on the opposite side now he fell. He tried to escape, he tried to tell them he would not fight their war for them but if it was not his life they threatened it was that of a random innocent from the surrounding area. So, for the innocents around the sakes, he stayed and fought and lost a bit of himself with every battle.

As a teenager, he was given an opportunity to escape, the Daniels gang had dealings happening in France and with him as their strongest fighter, they had no choice but to send him. With no other way of legally getting from Scotland to France, they sailed there, which gave Rory the perfect means to free himself. So down with boat, he sank after drawing unnecessary attention from the French Navy and failing to identify themselves as harmless. They somehow managed to pull him from the wreckage, listened to his tale and held him in contempt as they tried their best to prove his story.

Eventually getting in contact with the church he was raised in as a child. Allowing it to yet again become a blessing in his life as the priests and nuns whom still lived their confirmed everything he said to an extent. So freedom was once again his, but of course, it was ever fleeting. These naval men were not headed back to France, but out to the ivory coast for the First Ivorian Civil war.

Though they alerted their overseers back in France of Rory's presence it would be months before a boat would come to get him and by the time it would actually catch up to them they would be in the Ivory Coast already. So an honorary member of the French Foreign Legion he became; to be fair he was never supposed to see the war, but before they could even dock near the coast they were attacked and once again Rory was forced to fight his way out. This war was vastly different from the war he was raised in, the violence was organized and much more intentional; this did not sit right with him. War never did but this was different and it did not mater that the French were the peacekeepers here. They were still here for war, they were still hurting and killing people to get that said peace and Rory just could not do it anymore so he just stopped and without a second thought, left.

Walked off the battlefield and went into hiding. Call it what you will selfish, careless, cowardly, lazy but even the strongest being can take but so much death and destruction in their life. The truth was he lost his hope after all that. Lost his will to fight and questioned if he was even a Nephilim. All those lives he could not save for lack of knowledge about what he was, while he just kept living on and at one point he even thought maybe he was just an immortal. So he locked himself away, searching in the dark really, for anything he could find on Nephilim’s.

It took years, but he, at last, had heard tale of a place, a safe haven for his kind and others alike and with its ‘ vast growing popularity he took the chance and arrived in Evermore. Laying in wait to see just what this place and the people it held was all about. Not wanting to reveal himself, even to his own kind just yet as to avoid being yet again forced to fight another war that was not his own, and then the comet struck down. “Gaining mine wings was like seeing water for the first time after years of famine.”

His wings, though they took time to be used to, felt as though they were some reward after all the hardships he had faced. They, to him, were an assurance that he was what he was told he was all along but also a bitter reminder of how he had failed to be what he was for the greater good. It took a few more years before he was ready to reveal himself to the world and his faction. Watching from the shadows to see in an unfiltered sense just how his kind would treat their new state of being at a hopes to avoid joining something just to end up in a war he could have avoided fighting in. But they won him over; joining them as a warrior for the faction knowing he was better off using the teachings of his life for his faction than just keeping to the dark in his hopelessness.

Personality Traits

Good: Indelible - Chivalrous - Well-Versed - Goofy (with time)
Bad: Sheltered - Skeptical - Barbaric (at times) - Indifferent (depends and varies on who and/or what).