Alphonse Wright [Done]

Have you see the OVA or read the manga series of Hellsing?  If so how far have you gotten?  If not please direct your attention to YouTube, and watch OVA 1-4 at least.  Warning: If you have watched the anime we require you watch the OVA, or read the manga.  The anime is not canon.  This is not our opinion.  This is the law set down by the creator of Hellsing, Kouta Hirano.

Yes.

[OOC: This character’s views and beliefs are in no way my own or even close to my own, be warned that some of it may be offensive and in some cases may disgust some people but please remember it’s only a character and that I thought it would be fun to do the character to go through a series of story arcs that will gradually change him in a considerable and meaningful way; “redeeming him,”]

Name: Alphonse “Alfie,” Wright

Age: 24

Gender: Male

Physical appearance: Extremely large in size, the werewolf stands at just over 2 metres, he is also very broad with extremely wide and muscular shoulders, his body is very well developed from years of manual labour and violence; Alfie is far from a slight man and looking at him is to look at a sheet of barely controlled violence. His hair is kept rather long in the style of a fan Mohawk, it is jet black in colour and at its peak it is around 8 inches in length. His eyes are a very harsh, very pale blue, with a depth to them that seems to betray a slight hint of uncontrollable anger. Strangely enough though his eyes have started to develop a reddish sheen to them though it hasn’t gotten anywhere near noticeable by anyone unless they were to look closely, even then it looks more like they’re bloodshot rather than ill or supernatural. His body is covered in burns and scars, his ears are actually slightly tattered around the bottom of the lobes as well from all the fights he’s been in.

His body has a slight tan to it, but you would never mistake him for someone from hotter climes than Britain. One of the more interesting aspects of him however is his hands, particularly his knuckles; whereas other people may have the odd scar from fights where they’ve hit people, they usually have them from accidents, but Alfie’s scars seem to tell a different tale and seem to reek of violence that criss-cross his knuckles from various occasions where he’s been forced and has chosen to scrap. He usually keeps clean shaven though sometimes he doesn’t shave for a while and starts growing a light beard, though he normally shaves before it gets any real length on it.

His face his rather heavy with a pronounced chin and cheekbones, his right ear is distinguished through missing the bottom bit of the lobe. At the top of his left arm he has the SS Sig Runes tattooed inside a circle, on the left side of his neck underneath his ear he also has the Odal Rune tattooed large in bold black, though one of his most noticeable tattoos is “HH,” tattooed along the upper side of his right wrist. His second most easily noticed tattoo however is replicated on both knuckles in black font, “MEhT.” This stands for the SS motto: “Meine Ehre heißt Treue,” My Honour is Loyalty. His biggest tattoos are a Nazi eagle covering his right shoulder blade which can be partially seen when he takes his jacket off; and a large black swastika in the left side of his chest.

Sig Runes:

Odal Rune:

Clothing of choice: Normally dressed in a plain, sleeveless plain white tee shirt with suspenders, and an old studded leather jacket, Alfie appears to conform with classic skinhead and white supremacist fashion with the suspenders being over 1” wide which signifies either an unfashionable skinhead or a white supremacist which not many people mistaking him for the first category due to all the tattoos; he also usually wears plain black combat trousers that appear to be in rather good condition.

He also wears British Army Assault Boots, his combat trousers tucked up at the bottom and held in place by elastic bands which stop them hanging open and prevents anyone seeing the laces. The combat boots have a thick 1.5” sole with a slightly pronounced heel; the leather is in good condition from regular maintenance to prevent them falling apart though there are a few scuffs on the steel toe caps.

Weaponry of choice: A pair of Brass Knuckle Dusters with 1” spikes, still sharp despite a few years of use these illegal weapons were taken from another gang after beating them in a game of basketball that caused them to start a fight.

He also sometimes carries a Smith & Wesson M&P45c, this gun holds eight .45ACP Rounds that he normally carries around with it tucked into his combat trouser pocket so as no-one sees it, it normally has 1 full magazine in it with another two tucked away in the other pocket. This weapon is all black and untraceable considering he got it from a guy that stole it while on holiday in Germany a few years ago, meaning that police aren’t looking for it which would always be a problem considering England’s tight gun laws, making it hard to own a gun and making the jail time hard if you’re caught with an illegal one.

He also has a Saiga 12 shotgun he bought from some contacts he made in Prison whom told him where to go and who to say sent him, he spent a lot on it but it does the job of defending him if need be, though he’s never really had to use it. Completely black in colour it normally never comes out from underneath a loose floorboard in his house, he has three magazines with buckshot in and three with slugs in; these have very rarely left his house and if they ever do they’re usually well hidden in a rucksack or something similar.

Alongside everything else he also carries around an 8” switchblade knife, the blade is around 2” wide and rather thick at the base, and the handle is designed to make it look like a classic SS Dagger.

Race: Werewolf- Cub

Abilities: Traits: Great weakness to blessed and silver weaponry (fatal), regeneration (takes up to 20 posts max to regenerate major wound damage such as limb loss), decent super strength, agility, stamina, reflexes, durability and senses, inability to either transform into a human or werewolf (depending on how they were at first) though only with the aid of the full moon.

Alfie is highly skilled in a fight whether it is with fists or knives or bottles, or even guns, despite little formal training his reflexes and reactions have been honed on the street since he was a young boy, this leaves his technique brutal and unrefined but it gets the job done if in a slightly bloodier, less graceful looking way; it’s great advantage is the lack of rules or areas he won’t hit. This makes his “style” more efficient in some cases, he’s not restricted to certain moves, and this makes him unpredictable. Basketball has made him adept at using his bulk to the fullest advantage, keeping him agile on his feet and making him extremely good at moving; it’s often been commented that his manoeuvrability is akin to that of someone half his size even taking into account his supernatural speed.

When fighting him there are no holds barred as he hasn’t had rules drilled into him. People may have a black belt they picked up through classes over years to show skill in a fight, Alfie has scarred knuckles from throwing punch after punch into opponents alongside a determination to never back down.
His shooting was surprisingly good for a lack of practice due to his high co-ordination from basketball, but isn’t quite as good as his melee brawling skills. But his Lycanthropy has improved his eyes and co-ordination so as to make him far better than he was before. He’s not making long range shots with his weapons but within their effective range it’s hard for him to miss, even when the target’s moving at speed.

Another of his great skills is rudimentary first aid, without being taught Alfie has had to learn to patch himself and sometimes others up after a fight got really nasty and trips to A&E would prove to be problematic by raising unwanted questions. He is able to staunch a wound most of the time and even stitch it up if need be with cotton that’s been sterilised with alcohol. Not as effective as the hospital but it normally works; the only things he can’t do due to not having anything to do some things with, is set bones or perform surgery… but he can pull bullets out of people without too much fuss with a pair of tweezers.

However one of his skills he has the most fun with and in some ways he is most proud of, is his aptitude for basketball, being extremely skilled, if extremely rough due to growing up playing it with rules more like prison basketball he’s the best player he knows. This has only been improved by the Lycanthropy and now he takes even greater delight in dunking the ball and making ridiculous throws to the ire of some of his friends and some rival gangs.

Organization: Unaffiliated

Personality: Alfie is a ball of barely controlled aggression and violence that’s held back by chains of civility, his aggressiveness and strong will is a central part of his character which has led him down the path he went down. He has a charismatic side which seems to attract others to him as he’s the most boisterous and full of life most people get, he enjoys talking to people, drinking, and socialising with an eye for ladies and the charisma, charm, and to some allure to have his way with most. When talking with others he doesn’t hold back, and makes no attempt to cover up any of his possibly offensive tattoos or hold back taunts to people of other races when he sees them; leading to violent confrontations, police cautions, and an aura of intimidation that seems to bleed out towards anyone of a different ethnicity. Others on his side occasionally take a step back when he starts getting worked up. He always seems to have a lopsided, happy grin on his face. But it’s one of malice instead of happiness and it’s one that says he’s more likely to break your arm than shake your hand.

He’s very flawed, but deep down he is a good person and in some ways he is fundamentally more human than most people around him; having the epitome of good and bad in him, making good and bad choices, but at the same time being extremely real and unadulterated. He has a deep seated hatred for others of different races, firmly believing in all the “master race” rhetoric, and that “foreigners,” and “minorities,” and gay people whom he calls “Blankers,” should simply leave and go “somewhere else alt’gether.” And getting violent when others argue otherwise, however this radical, abusive, horrible side isn’t all there is to him. He’s loyal to his friends, and is relaxed around them to the point where he’ll pick them up jokingly and spin them around if they make a shot in a game; he hates kiss-arses and normally tells them where to go however and it can be difficult to become a friend of his, and even then if you make a wrong move the shoving and arguing begins, with their competitiveness in sports enough to have them shoving and shouting and throwing the odd punch.

He does have some compassion, when he is with his family his front drops and he goes to being a calmer man. A man that only wants what’s best of his family and only wants the very best for his siblings and would die or kill for them if need be. Unlike others (like a younger teenage sibling who is following in his footsteps) he knows there’s a limit to what he can do and knows there’s a limit to how far he can act on his hatred, this prevents him from going too far because he knows of what’s toeing the line and what’s completely vile to him and others and out of the question. He’s willing to put up with other races, sexual orientations and the like, as long as they keep out of his way and they don’t try to “put ‘emselves in his line of site,” forcing him to acknowledge them. He would beat up someone of a different ethnicity for playing on his basketball court but he wouldn’t kill them, though they’d most probably be in a bad state though still alive…

But one of the things that really drives this vile hate and what stems it is incidents in his youth, he wanted someone to blame for his families’ shop failing and his father’s suicide as a result and it was all too easy to blame it on the immigrant families’ shop that ran them out of business which suckered him into his Neo-Nazi ideology which has influenced him to this very day, poisoning him and warping him into something far worse than just a werewolf. He handles fights extremely well, he doesn’t appear to take obvious pleasure in them as he normally appears to be too angry to take pleasure in anything, but he enjoys a good punch up and he feels it clears the air, it’s rare for him to get so angry he gets sloppy but he does let it drive him and he doesn’t back down until there’s blood on the pavement at least; whether his or someone else’s it makes no difference.

Rank: Gang Leader

Biography: Born in Toxeth, Liverpool in 1980 to a working class family with his father owning a small corner shop Alfie was simply a normal boy. Going to school, and generally being a normal and well adjusted, if slightly mischievous child; all that started to change though when an immigrant family moved in nearby when he was twelve, it wasn’t the first but up until that point it hadn’t mattered to Alfie and his family who didn’t distinguish or even see anything wrong with it. However when the new family opened up a shop and started selling things at half the price by cutting every corner they could and even living in the shop; which Alfie’s father Terrance just couldn’t keep up with. As the oldest of the numerous children he recognised that his father was sinking into a depression, and could only watch as the shop closed after a year of trying everything to keep it open, from offering deals to frequent customers to trying out a delivery service but it didn’t work and his dad just lost the will to carry on after that.

His father committed suicide a week after the shop went out of business, Alfie went into the closed shop one day thinking that his father would be in the back sobbing to find he had given the walls a red paint job, the shock of that only added to the disaster that was the loss of their livelihood. And seeing the successful family carrying on without a care started to poison Alfie who took the loss hard, becoming bitter at the loss of his father and despising him for abandoning them when they needed him most; eventually Alfie started to hate immigrants by association, which is where his corruption began.
“Those corner-cutting cheapskate bastards had no Respect. They CHALLENGED us. They came in, an' they took the money out of OUR pockets, the bread out of OUR mouths. Because no one has any fucking respect for us Brits? Our name had been up on that sign longer than half the streets in bloody Liverpool, and did anyone say anything? NO!”

After the funeral, he sat at the local park, talking with his younger brothers about the Immigrants and what they'd done to their father, and how they’d caused them to be in the mess they were in. A group of White Supremacist gangers had overheard them, and approached, agreeing that the Immigrants had been nothing but trouble since they'd shown up. Generations of simple life, so they said, thrown in upheaval because of outsiders creeping in on their turf; they asked Alphonse if he wanted to take the fight to them, before the immigrants destroyed anyone-else’s livelihood.
The "fight,” involved baseball bats, ski masks, and a couple of molotov cocktails, by the time the rampage was over and the group had sated their hatred everything was chaos, everything that could be broken was broken and the store was in flames. The family managed to escape, although the owner's wife got herself a broken nose in the process and the owner himself got a broken arm. Alphonse has never told anyone if he was actually involved in it, but the police brought him and the people he met at the park in for questioning. Ultimately they were all let go because the family refused to press charges, they were scared, and there wasn’t enough evidence to do pursue the case. The family was packed up, and had left Toxeth within free days, Alfie changed after that.

“They looked at us diff’rent after that, they knew what we were capable of and knew that we were BETTA than them, haha! They knew we weren’t going to let them oppress us anymore or take out livelihoods!”

Alphonse the Aryan Soldier was born.

The Aryan Soldiers were formed at some point in the late 1970's, in a Toxeth that was rife with poverty, and growing racial tensions. Initially they were little more than a loose group of local punks who went to rock shows and got into drunken fights with some more serious issues that brought the police in; though they didn’t target immigrants as such. They slowly developed into a hate group as the situation in Toxteth worsened, and the government's aid trickled to nothing. They began to wrap themselves up in the imagery of the Nazis, attempting to "reclaim" some of the ideas that White people were in some way superior as well as claiming the Nazi label for themselves after it was so often slung at them.

Alphonse's father was what finally turned them from just a street gang to a racial hatred filled gang of very violent, and racist individuals that now had a direction to go in, pictures of shattered teeth, torched houses and plucked broken bones and people graced the papers every day after that for the next few years. Alfie avoided prison because no-one could say how much involvement he had with the more horrendous things that happened and he adamantly claimed he didn’t know anything about the murders whenever the police tried taking him in (though for the most part he was actually heavily involved in a lot of the viler things that what went on), though his position meant that he must have known what was going on. With each year he got bigger and more sucked in, leaving school completely in his penultimate year at the age of fifteen in favour of just being around the gang. His mother had enough trouble with the other young kids and her depression had her head stuck in the sand trying to block out what was going on around them.

"All those Pakistanis, Jews, and Polacks thought they could come in and take what is ours by RIGHT. They was wrong, mate. Dead fucking wrong!"

In the next five years until 1997, the relatively small group turned into a number anywhere between fifty and one-hundred-and-fifty men, (the Police never got an accurate head count and the Aryan Soldiers never bothered) sprawled throughout the Alley's tightly packed homes. Businesses run by non-whites found themselves victimised as the victims of crimes from theft to arson. Alphonse became a sort of pillar, in the gang that had no official leadership he was the closest thing they had, he laid the law down that Immigrants got three chances, each more severe than the last. Then if they refused to leave, they had brought the consequences on themselves... Although there have been several deaths linked to the group (including one police officer), no members have ever been formally charged with murder due to a lack of evidence at each crime scene and the bodies sometimes never being found (some suspect that the houses are sitting atop a mountain of dead…). Multiple arrests were made in the early years, but few charges stuck and the group's lack of central leadership meant breaking them up was impossible. Plus with the violence breaking out in the streets and the Soldiers getting a firm stranglehold, with everyone being immersed in the Racism early on the Police started to refuse to patrol the area of Toxeth.

Over time, the police decided it best to keep the area isolated rather than putting themselves in danger to deal with Alphonse and the gang, and thus “Nazi Alley,” was formed, a nearly independent part of the city of Liverpool. Any non-white British families who attempted to move in were treat harshly, although white immigrants such as the Polish etc. were given a bit of leeway while they “kept to their stations”. Eventually the Alley became wholly White, and Alfie hadn’t had a non-white person set foot in his house in just over a decade.

Alfie simply got into fights, played basketball, and simply did what he wanted to, going to concerts, getting drunk and enjoying freedom in the isolated corner of the world he called home; playing basketball every Saturday was a big thing it was against the other local gangs to decide civilly which gang got the only court in the area. The Soldiers never lost with Alfie on the team in those years. Things got bad however when the riots happened, in one last effort to try and reclaim the Alley police moved in a few weeks after they’d abandoned it, however a police car was stolen and the police officer that had been in it was stabbed. They called for back-up, and when they were removed the Police started questioning everyone they could.

Failing to keep his own people calm, Alfie watched as the Soldiers turned on one another as they debated what they should do about the high police presence. What made it worse was Jack, Alphonse’s second youngest brother, who at the age of 15 was a smaller version of Alfie that seemed to just want to impress his older brother and be part of the gang. Eventually tempers flared and the Neo-Nazis kicked the police out when they started trying to bring people in, that was when the police had back-up sent to them to stop them from receiving what looked like a lynching from all the gangers that had formed a human barricade to stop any police from getting into the Alley.

Riot Cops assembled, banging their sticks on their shields to intimidate the mob before them to try and break them up. Alfie stood in the midst of it all with Jack having sneaked into the crowd without his older brother realising, the gang armed with pipes and baseball bats and knives, the Police with their riot gear stood twenty foot away. Past vs Present. It was the big conflict the gang had wanted, to show the world they were to be respected and that they were strong; that was when Jack threw a Molotov. Both sides exploded into action, the large flames causing no notable damage except to one copper whom caught alight and died and another who took a lot of the blast directly though he only sustained non-life threatening wounds, that at last shocked both sides into action.

Police rushed into the crowds, both sides fighting with bitter resolve through grievous injuries with heads being split open by truncheons and pipes and knives tearing into the armoured police. Many cops were criticised for being too heavy handed that day, but many others recognised that the Gang had pushed them and that in some of the cases the police had no choice, it had been them or those they were fighting. Unbeknown to Alfie though Cops rushed right after Jack, looking to get the bastard that had kicked it all off with that Molotov.
It broke off into little melees by that point, some houses caught fire with the constant stream of molotovs; Alfie was knocking hell into every cop he came across. However amidst the melee he hard the voice of his brother shouting at the Police among the battling masses, hearing his cries for help Alfie span around after knocking the man he was fighting on his arse. Rushing back towards Jack who had three or four about to rush him the large man felt a club hit him around the head, staggering he managed to get out of the way of another swipe, tripping the cop up he carried on moving to his sibling in desperation that was turning into panic. He was shouting at the top of his lungs, begging for Jack to just run, but no luck.

Throwing himself at two coppers that were trying to block his way Alphonse lashed out with his knife, catching one in the throat the man died trying to stem the flow of blood. The other got a boot to the knee, trying to barge past to get to his brother Alfie received another flurry of hits from others that had rushed to their comrade’s aid. Wrestling the large Neo-Nazi down, the Gang Leader tried to break free whilst trying to shout to Jack, the blood of the copper was drenching his vest as he was pushed down onto the street with his arms behind his back “OI, YOU LITTLE BASTARD, GET ‘OME NOW! GO!”
Jack didn't hear him and his pleas as polic closed all around him. Cuffed and helpless Alfie was mercilessly kicked, his knife being reclaimed by a disgusted officer. Dragging the Gang Leader to his feet they read him his rights and took him into custody. That was when Alfie saw something he wished he would never see, his brother taking a heavy hit to the head, he was knocked down, blood covering the side of his head as boots came into play on the downed kid. Struggling and screaming Alphonse could do nothing but shout in hatred, outrage, and devastating sadness as they dragged him away forcibly, remembering that his brother had only tried to be like him, big and strong and defending his race…

Two policemen had died; many more were injured. Three Aryan Soldiers had been killed; including Jack, and many more had taken serious injuries… with the thoughts that Jack had died because of him, Alphonse went to court charged with murder.

After that many of the rioters were sent right to prisons across the country, with many police officers being suspended for their heavy handedness. Alfie received seven years for manslaughter after successfully proving in court that he had only been trying to deliver a non-fatal wound. Though the beating they’d given him had tilted the courts in his favour.

While in prison Alfie didn’t do much other than keep busy, time passed and he kept in touch with his family. Strangely enough though he didn’t get into many fights with most people avoiding him, except in his last week when he got into a major incident on the basketball court, where his skills had earned him a few friends. A new inmate seemed to think he was tougher than Alfie, bastard walked in like he owned the place; arguing with the guy over a foul Alfie was shocked by a punch to the face that knocked him on his ass. Trying to fight back Alphonse, who was used to winning a brawl, was thrown around like a ragdoll; he was finally beaten after a head butt knocked him back a  pace and gave him a heavy nosebleed. Trying to block the next blow Alphonse felt a set of jaws latch onto his shoulder as guard broke the fight up. The wound tingled, and healed in a matter of hours to Alphonse’s astonishment. He was let out three days later. Wondering what to do with himself, doubting his ideology deep down after it had cost him his brother; but even angrier on the surface because it had been “proved right by the police killing a young upstanding lad that only wanted to defend his home.”

Heading nowhere in particular Alfie first discovered his new condition in the woods while walking home from a late night concert; when he changed for the first time and killed a stray dog… ever since then he’s wondered what he can do with himself, and how he can keep his new secret. Knowing of his own new supernatural nature he's sure that Vampires must exist, but he's not seen one as of yet.

RP sample: Social Post

Battle Post: Alfie ducked underneath a savage right hook, his foot lashing out and kicking his opponent's shin and causing him to stumble. Lunging forwards Alfie caught him with a savage straight left that snapped the man's head back with a "CRACK!" Dancing from foot to foot the big man was knocked back as he went in over-zealously with a blow that glanced off his temple and knocked him off balance long enough for his opponent to kick his legs out from underneath him. The Vampire rushed forwards, his eyes almost glowing red in the darkneed street as he tried to stamp on Alfie's face, the Werewolf rolled back, narrowly avoiding the hit.

Gasping in pain another kick hit him in the stomach, the Neo-Nazi could taste blood in his mouth. But he was far from beaten, and as he lay on the cold pavement his hand snaked out with all the speed he could muster to get a firm hold on the troublesome booted foot. His other hand pulled his switchblade out from his jacket pocket. The other foot kicked him in the groin but that just caused him to latch on harder. He opened the knife, with a savage whoop of joy that echoed around the empty, dirty street, he stabbed the Vampire in the Achilles tendon. He felt the blade bite through leather and tear into flesh to lap at the tendon like a mad dog. Ripping it in twain and causing the Vampire to drop with a shout of extreme pain.
Jumping up and dodging another wild kick from the Vampire's one good foot from where he laid on his back the werewolf jumped forward knees first on his enemies' stomach, he heard a grunt; hands reached out to try and force him off but Alphonse spat in his face savagely. Taking advantage of his opponent's shouts of indignation and temporary distraction and blindness to puncture the Vampire's eye with the long blade.

He stood, laughing to himself he began singing a drinking song underneath his breath, wiping his knife clean on the clothes as the Vampire turned to dust and began to be swept away by the wind. "Pathetic Bastard!"

Looks good. The runes seemed interesting.

Approvals: 2

Disapprovals: 0

Holy Hera. That's quite the biography you got. Nice job!

Approvals: 3

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APPROVED LOCKED AND MOVED