Character Name: Basilius Dean Coterell.
Nickname: Basi, Basil, Basilisk [Hates it], or Dean.
Age: 4,675 in human years, 17 in gargoyle years.
Gender: Male
Grade: Junior
Subject: N/A
Race: Gargoyle
Play-by: Jensen Ackles.
Appearance:

Basilius is pretty tall, standing at 6’1, and weighing roughly 175 pounds, all but a little of which is pure muscle. His lifestyle leaves no room for weakness, nor does he give a chance for weakness regardless. He believes in living large but keeping in shape, those chiseled abs a testament to the hours he spends each week simply honing his strength and keeping up to date on all manner of techniques, skills, and arts. Being a gargoyle has its advantages it seems. Having a true form made of stone seems to give hints to the physical qualities of his humanoid form. Just as his stone form has all hard planes, nothing soft nor giving about it, he too, has the rugged, hard features, the rare smooth feature here and there, and the general look of a born soldier. His most common expression tends to be one of easygoing boredom, a twinkle of mischief often seen in his eyes, a wink not uncommon upon his rakish visage. All in the name of the perfect stone soldier.

His eyes, in his human form, are a hazel/grey, with more green intermixing with a touch of brown and grey on the side. Unique to say the least, they tend to become more yellow as his gargoyle form gets closer to the surface, or the closer he is to snapping, watch his eyes. They’re like warning signs. Basil’s hair is always short, gelled into spikes and a general brown in color, the roots often appearing lighter than the tips, though it’s just a trick of the light. His skin is a light tan, staying that way no matter what, another testament to his gargoyle form, for if anything, stone is unchanging, for there may be objects blocking the features, mossing up the crevices, but beneath it all, the stone is the same, never changing, never moving. Now and then he either forgets or just doesn’t feel like shaving, and he gets a faint scruffy jaw, a 5 o’clock shadow if you will.

He has no piercings, no tattoos with the exception of a star within a sun tattooed over his left pectoral. As well as his tattoo he has a multitude of accessories that all have their own stories. He has a protection mask amulet about his neck that a close family member gave to him, which he never takes off, a Tibetan skull bracelet as well as high quality silver ring, along with a second ring, and an Impala Keychain. His favorite weapons of choice, the ones you’d most likely find on him or around him, are his chromed Colt 1911 with ivory grips, a knife, and possesses a large Machete. As part of his personal effects, though not upon his person, is his ’67 Chevy Impala, his most prized possession, rebuilt twice.

Now onto his gargoyle form. His features are roughly hewn, made of plain granite type stone, marks and blemishes covering the once perfect outer layer, evidence of the many fights he has been in. As with most if not all gargoyles, the brute has wings, wings of stone feathers, like a birds’, of which are in correct position over his shoulder blades. Basilius has the choice of moving about biped, as a human does, or on all fours, like that of a canine. He has a long tail, scaled like that of a dragon’s hide, as well that the rest of his body is scaled, and all four of his limbs are clawed, like that of a dragon as well, showing a connection. In most instances he walks on all fours, looking not unlike an anthromorph creature, showing his potential to walk upon two feet, but instead walking on four. He has the smooth gait of a predator, his head one of his most unique features.

Along the back of his head, his neck has long spines, or scales that are larger than normal, sharper too. They lead to the join connecting his neck and his shoulders, where they smoothen out, the sharper spines providing good handholds for any who were to ride the stone creature, if they were to get past the terrifying looks of him. His eyes are a gleaming yellow in appearance, and when angered or agitated, they begin to glow balefully, and looking for all purposes to be exuding fire, or smoke. His lower jaw actually overlaps, or turns upwards to spike like reverse fangs around his maw, sharp and always ready for tearing, and in most cases, bloodstained from old battles. In this form, his ears are simple holes in the sides of his head, much the same as reptiles, and in some cases, other dragons as well.

Personality:

• Unpredictable.
  • Ever changing, always different, adapting to his environment, Basilius isn’t one that is easy to read. Sure, one can get a read on him in a certain situation, or during a certain time, but that is the only read that they will get, and it doesn’t last long. Within moments he can be off to another mind set, or withdrawing deep within himself. He swings most often from wanting someone around to pushing them away, and in this shows his restlessness. Basi isn’t one to just settle down once and for all, he’s traveled nonstop for years, been active, never stopping in one place long enough to drop roots. The male is afraid that if he were to settle for a long time, he would never be able to leave, and for one of his species, that ages slowly, it is never a good thing to have that happen. Because as time passes, the people age, and he doesn’t, well, that’s not good.
  
  
• Prideful.
  • The gargoyle is prideful, always more than ready to point out that he helped in doing many things that happened to save lives. He’s also not afraid to admit his ego, to admit that he has one the size of the empire state building. But what really occurs is that he isn’t really that prideful, for the main reason that pride drives others away, keeps them from getting too close to him, and in that he takes shelter, the safety provided by said actions allows him the ability to remain in the shadows, where he believes he belongs. Now, one would normally disagree with a statement such as that, for prideful people like the limelight. But he isn’t naturally prideful, no, he uses it as his shield, and never lets it down.
  
  
• Thick-Skinned.
  • Having been in enough situations over his long life, the male knows how to keep things from getting to him. Insults, deep emotional stabs, old relationships, present relationships, and the memories of his long, long past. All of them are a threat to his situation, are something that could compromise him, and in compromising he means make him feel emotions. Emotions are a weakness to him, because then those that he hunts may use that weakness to escape, or worse, wreak havoc upon their targets. His skin is so thick that he simply deflects phrases or things that would simply cripple another man emotionally if they were to hear it.
  
  
• Repressed.
  • Dean is very repressed, and has been repressing his emotions since he was a young boy and saw those closest to them die so horribly. He vowed never to let his emotions compromise his thoughts ever again, and since that time he has been working to do so efficiently and completely. Everything he does is repressed in some way. He represses his fear, his emotions, his capability to love, his need for companionship, his insecurity, self-doubt, and resentment towards his own choices in the past. In this way he is a ticking time bomb, for when it builds up too much, gets to be too much to hold back, any little situation can and will trigger this and he will explode, going either into a deep depression, or a fiery rage that is not easy to put out.
  
  
• Genuine.
  • Despite what he would have you think, and how he covers it with his cocky superiority and sarcasm, the male is genuine in everything he does. He is caring, he is protective, he is afraid for his loved ones. In reality, he fits the definition of the typical gargoyle to a tee, you just haven’t seen evidence of this. But he does care, and this is shown in the way he would easily lay his life down for those he cares about, or anyone else, for that matter. If they need protecting, he’s there in a heartbeat, and always there with that acceptance of death. He doesn’t fear it, doesn’t care what might happen to him when he dies, where he might go, so long as he goes out fighting, or saving someone in need of it. He believes it would make up for all the things he’s done in his lifetime.
  
  
• Deliberate.
  • Everything, and I do mean everything he does it intended to be that way. Be it what he says, what he does, what he thinks, all of it serves a purpose that in most cases only he knows of. He’s level headed, calm, doesn’t let just anything get to him, and in most cases, you could be riling him up and you would never know. He prefers to keep it that way, because naturally it’s just another way to show weakness that he utterly despises. Everything about the way he talks is another little defense mechanism as well. Lies pour like honey through his lips should he want them to, and you would never know the difference between lie and truth. So just hope you don’t get the receiving end of his smooth talking action, because he can have you thinking the world is square by the time he’s done.
  
  
• Determined.
  • Just as he has a purpose to everything he does, he also doesn’t let up on that purpose until it is done, or he is utterly forced to. He is mule-headed, taking orders from none, only taking orders from those he cares for, and not without a large debate/argument. He’s stubborn, biased in the views of his personal beliefs, can’t be diverted, and he definitely is driven. Always on the move, always headed somewhere only he knows. He doesn’t believe in giving up, and that belief has gotten him in deep trouble, trouble that nearly always ended in the death of someone around him, more than once. Another reason he keeps to himself, prefers to take the punishment of his mistakes upon himself rather than have it taken out upon anyone he would care for.
  
  
• Altruistic.
  • He’s unselfishly concerned for and devoted to the welfare of others, something that of course upon meeting him one would throw out the window. But don’t throw until you get to know him, see the inner workings behind his prideful, arrogant ways and see the cogs and pieces that work together to form his mind frame. As mentioned above, he is always there to save someone, to take their place in a situation of danger, and he lets no one else take the place if he can help it. Many of the scars he carries on the outside have long since healed, but the resulting scars inside serve as reminders of all the times his mistakes nearly cost others their lives because he was almost too slow to take their place.
  
  
• Cunning.
  • Maybe the dumb, arrogant jock routine isn’t actually true. Sure he plays it, and plays it very well, but then, isn’t that his job? What he’s meant to do? People won’t treat him the same if they know how much of a hunter he is, a predator through and through, and that every word they say, move they make, and even action they take is carefully cataloged and pieced together in his mind until he figures them out. It’s almost like a game, except it’s a game that has saved his life and the lives of those he protects multiple times. His ability to learn things on the fly, take the initiative and do things that would normally be hard to do in order to save someone’s rear are all things he makes sure he can do, and can do well.
  
  
• Street-Smart.
  • Just as Basilius is cunning, he’s also street-smart, the perfect combination that makes him so deadly a hunter. He knows a lot of things that normal mortals just don’t, such as the ability to hack most devices within a few moments, the ability or skill in picking nearly any lock, not to mention his knowledge of weaponry and the inner workings of many agencies that work with law enforcement. He doesn’t take his self-appointed job lightly, which cannot be stressed any more, and it shows through that he would do what he needs to. For those who have only seen that prideful part of him, they would be surprised how little he truly can call his own, and how many times he’s camped out in the back of his Impala because he has nowhere else to go.
  
  
• Soldier.
  • Basi is a soldier, and a good one. A stone soldier made mainly for killing and the protection of others. Everything he knows, in his gargoyle form, his very appearance and physical makeup is generated towards his skills, his technique and his strength. His true form is the epitome of what he represents, and if one were to see that military style to him, they would be correct, because that was how he was raised. Growing up, he didn’t play games, have friends or go to school to get a normal education like every other kid wanted. No, he stayed home, learning all the things that make him who he is to this day. And if his repressed personality wasn’t enough, if one were to just take that soldier part of him, and look closer, they would see that even then he has instincts driving him away from making friends or anything more than friends with any other.
  
  
• Coping Mechanism.
  • All those times when he pushes everything back, holds it in and keeps going, coupled with all the times he’s killed, seen others die, or has nearly died at another’s hands have scarred him so badly that he relies heavily on a few things to get him through, his crutches of sorts. Because of his history he no longer has a good night’s rest. And while he may want you to think otherwise, waking up and looking for all purposes like he had a good night’s sleep, instead of the nightmares that walk his every night’s dreams, he just doesn’t want that weakness. He relies on his sardonic comments, alcohol for the emotional pick me up along with food, and the ever reliant sex and foreplay. It’s his way of connecting to someone without his emotional baggage and in many cases it has been one of the only things that have kept him sane.

History:

From the day he was born, all those long years ago, he was destined to be alone, kept out of sight, in the shadows, the lurker in the corners and never one to really take center stage. His personality developed slowly, everything he knew and loved crumbling away as he aged and grew older, saw his family die around him, at the hands of humans who hated all they represented. They were murdered before him, and not only did the humans not stop there, they continued to burn the bodies, and even when the human shells burned away, leaving their gargoyle forms, crumbling from the sheer devastation wreaked upon them, the humans didn’t stop.

They didn’t stop until all that was left of their bodies were the smallest of flecks, mere powder. And the glee they found in it was terrifying, disgusting and horrifying. That they could enjoy murder in such a way had scarred the young Basilius, and he never did get over seeing that happen. For some reason they didn’t kill his siblings, nor did they try to later on, even when they grew older, slowly of course. Eventually though, life caught up, and the original killers died, and their descendents came after Basilius and his family.

They slowly killed each and every member, taking their time, roughly one of his family members per their generation. And they never made it quick, it was always slow, they’d keep his relative chained like a beast in their basement, behind barred doors and would watch them wither away, for otherwise it was near impossible to kill them, given their stone forms. But kill them they did, and they made a jolly old sport of it too. Waiting until they were so weak they could no longer fly to safety, and then turned them loose upon a stretch of forested land, and hunted them down.

Many of his relatives died in terror, and he knew it as well as the rest of his siblings. He fled the area with his little brother and sister, and they searched for a better place, someplace where they could start fresh, live the lives they hadn’t been able to before.

Basi was the protector of the family, the strong one, the brave one, the one who was always there, the epitome of the pillar, the supporting structure that held his little family together. That was until his sister was kidnapped. Whether it was by people who had learned what they were, or simply sickos who liked their girls young, he never knew, never found out. All he found was one of her articles of clothing, and nothing more. He hopes, prays that she’s still alive, and is relentless in his search for her, despite those who scoff at his quest.

Since that day he has become withdrawn, repressing each and every emotion that could be a weakness. Not only that, but he also aspired to kill out the family that seemed so intent on hunting down the members of his race and kill them for sport. Their generations have slowly thinned out, some of it part of his doing, the other because many were insane in their own ways, and marrying into the family certainly didn’t last long as far as new genes went.

Many years pass in the same way, and one day Basilius is attacked. He never learns what he was attacked by, but he does know that whatever happened, whoever did it pronounced him dead, or left him for dead, and he woke in a shallow grave, to learn that upon digging his way out, his death was classified as a murder, unsolved, and discarded. Since then he started over, new name, new town, always with his brother.

Over time he began to recognize a pattern, a way of events that seemed doomed to repeat itself the longer he lived and the older he got. Everywhere he went, death, descruction and natural disasters seemed to follow him. It wasn’t surprising to hear about a poisoning or a flood, fire or deaths that follow him, and he knew that with every place he went to it was only a matter of time before something happened.

He never does anything that would instigate these things, with the exception of the occasional murder around him, but never without reason, and otherwise there can be no fault to be placed upon the male, just that he has a penchant for such things.

Not only did the penchant for bad happenings begin to wear upon him, but he also began to experience moments of a lakc of control, a comfort in the ramblings that make up his inner workings on occasion. He knows this is a sign of his mental deterioration, but the moods never last long, and are rarely witnessed by any other than himself or his brother, but his brother soon left to try a normal life of his own, and after that he didn’t need to hold back so much.

The moments began to grow worse, lasting longer and growing stronger with his lack of reason and purpose in life, and he knew it. in a way he welcomed the insanity, knowing it would give him the oblivion he so desperately desired as an escape from all he’s done and all he continues to do. But the thing is, he’s not beyond hope, will someone save him, or will he become just another poor sot on the side of the road, rambling on about mad nonsense?

Name: ~Tarnished Copper~
Your Age: 15
Other Characters:

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Contact Information:

**On here or email.

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Sample Post:

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