Yosir Reggadae II (Josh Rogers)
Quote from Kaqurei on August 22, 2018, 6:20 amYosir Reggadae II (Josh Rogers)
Age: 21
Blood Line: Pure
Background: The Reggadae family has been members of the Svalnaglas pack nearly since its conception. Whereas some of the Svalnaglas aligned families have been known to throw only triple crown winners, as a matter of speaking, or else only mules, the Reggadaes have been in diverse positions throughout history: as prestigious as Beta and as lowly as Omega. For his impressive brawn, not to mention the position of his Beta father, Yosir might have been one of those triple crown winners. For his intelligence, however, he bombed out, and is merely a grunt lackey. He is the youngest son of four, and some suspect he must have been dropped on his head as an infant. But then, the Reggadaes have come to be a household name amongst the Svalnaglas for the wildcard caliber of pups they produce. Surely his elder brothers are far more cunning than he, much more the likeness of their esteemed parents, both of which mingle with the heads of Svalnaglas families.
Personality: Josh is a pretty easy going sort of guy. While he's not altogether stupid, he is simple. He likes things to be clear cut and obvious. He's never been good with the classy analogies, riddles, and the codes so commonly used within the more.... delicate circles of the Svalnaglas Pack. But don't let that baby face of his fool you, he's good for muscle, and has worked as a hit man for some of the higher-ups.
Svalnaglas Rank Mark
Yosir Reggadae II (Josh Rogers)
Age: 21
Blood Line: Pure
Background: The Reggadae family has been members of the Svalnaglas pack nearly since its conception. Whereas some of the Svalnaglas aligned families have been known to throw only triple crown winners, as a matter of speaking, or else only mules, the Reggadaes have been in diverse positions throughout history: as prestigious as Beta and as lowly as Omega. For his impressive brawn, not to mention the position of his Beta father, Yosir might have been one of those triple crown winners. For his intelligence, however, he bombed out, and is merely a grunt lackey. He is the youngest son of four, and some suspect he must have been dropped on his head as an infant. But then, the Reggadaes have come to be a household name amongst the Svalnaglas for the wildcard caliber of pups they produce. Surely his elder brothers are far more cunning than he, much more the likeness of their esteemed parents, both of which mingle with the heads of Svalnaglas families.
Personality: Josh is a pretty easy going sort of guy. While he's not altogether stupid, he is simple. He likes things to be clear cut and obvious. He's never been good with the classy analogies, riddles, and the codes so commonly used within the more.... delicate circles of the Svalnaglas Pack. But don't let that baby face of his fool you, he's good for muscle, and has worked as a hit man for some of the higher-ups.
Svalnaglas Rank Mark
Quote from Kaqurei on June 29, 2023, 4:25 pmFamily:
Beta Yosir Reggadae I / Joseph "Joe" Rogers: Father
"Yosir!" exclaimed a man entering the room--though, man he certainly was, a better word to describe him perhaps would have been presence. He was felt like a punch in the gut long before his voice boomed in the room. And when the sight of him caught up, it was clear why.
The man stood easily seven feet. Easily. Perhaps he would have been a basketball player in another life. In this one, his tall form was filled with an equal bulk, being broad chested, broad shouldered, and well muscled. At either side he had what probably were bodyguards, though he dwarfed both of them. He wore a suit (of course he wore a suit) of the devil's own blood red, dark and deep, with a red sheen in the light. The only thing redder was his hair, slicked back with gel or grease. An expensive cologne fragranced his person, undertoned by cigar smoke and werewolf. His angular face looked nothing like Josh's, being narrow and chiseled like some impressionistic statue with a serious brow and a nose like an eagle's beak. His eyes though, the squinty look and the icy blue, those were definitely Josh's.
Igaunde Reggadae / Elizabeth Rogers: Mother
A woman stood at the head of the table. Her blond hair was tightly curled in ringlets, also fashioned in a bob, but richly arrayed with glittering diamonds. Her face was pale, her lashes dark with several layers of mascara, eyelids shadowed by a smoky silver-blue, darker by shades than the nearly white-blue of her eyes, while her lips were painted a blood red. She wore a glittering gown, a ruff of silver fox fur about her shoulders. There was, pinched in her forced smile, either some discomfort or outright resentment, but her voice was touched only lightly with embarrassment as she said in melodious tones, "I do hope you'll find our humble fare acceptable, Alpha Abravious. This is quite the occasion. Had I expected your company, certainly the meal would be more suiting to one of your station. Even so, I trust you shall not be disappointed."
She watched the proceedings with a cool sort of detachment. Though she herself was caked and faked and bedazzled, somehow the simple elegance of the Alpha's woman outshone her own, a beauty both within and without. Was that a flicker of jealousy? That woman, not a werewolf, but a common human female with no background, no breeding, and yet she graced the Alpha's arm and lit up the rooms into which she strode. Or darkened them, depending on one's point of view. She was allowed entrance to this house only because of Him, and He was ruined only because of her. The irony of it was almost nauseating.
Szhekob Reggadae / Jacob Rogers: BrotherHand in hand with the eldest of Yosir's young men, the man in the crimson velvet suit said, "How is business treating you, Szhekob?"
The eldest son's eyes lit up and a smile brightened his face, sweeping any any trace of uncertainty when the Alpha asked his question. "Very well, sir," he said, clapping his other hand on the Alpha's and giving him a perhaps too exuberant shake. There was a flinch, subtle, beneath the surface, more in the atmosphere than in the face (for he went on smiling), and he subdued himself a touch. "In fact it's never been better. The superiors at the head level are quite impressed with the Alyomous project my team presented at the convention last week. There's talk of a promotion for us, if all goes well."
It was interesting, the contrast between the four young men at the table. The eldest, Szhekob, perhaps in his mid to late twenties, certainly looked most like his father, but for the ruffle of his mother's curls swept through his red hair in waves--though hers had been plastered with hairspray to keep them exactly in place. His face, too, was softer, gentler... not for the lack of experience, for certainly in his eyes was the countenance of a man who knew how to speak to shadows and exactly what was hidden under the glittering facade of his family's decorum. No, the softness was in personality; the boy had none of his father's overbearance, and in his eyes.... it was not innocence, but perhaps a forgiving nature, a willingness to look past faults and find the good--optimism, perhaps.
Yhamir Reggadae / Chase Rogers: BrotherYhamir's looks favoured his mother, though thinner and taller. He was pale, blond, and had her pale blue eyes, a wily jealousy in them, but his father's crooked smile. He had an almost feminine build, his shoulders narrow, his limbs long and thin. There was an alertness in his face which stood at sharp contrast to Szhekob's easy-going nature or Josh's subdued posture. His bright eyes seemed keen to every gesture, every movement, every word said and unsaid. And still he smiled, as though it were a game he was a witness to, and not participant. Whilst the others had to keep their cards close, there was no rule to keep him from knowing the hands of each player.
Azaia Reggadae / Isaiah Rogers: BrotherAzaia looked more like Josh, broad shouldered, round faced, and stout of build. His hair was a strawberry blond, cropped unevenly, and curled only in the back near his neck. He seemed entirely indisposed to engage in the frivolity of the evening--true, he'd donned a suit as the others, but it was noticeably wrinkled in places, his tie loose and his dress shirt unbuttoned at the neck. He donned a bored and detached expression, save only when one of the younger maids drew nearer his place, at which point there would be a flicker of interest, a glance at his father, and again remiss.
Family:
Beta Yosir Reggadae I / Joseph "Joe" Rogers: Father
"Yosir!" exclaimed a man entering the room--though, man he certainly was, a better word to describe him perhaps would have been presence. He was felt like a punch in the gut long before his voice boomed in the room. And when the sight of him caught up, it was clear why.
The man stood easily seven feet. Easily. Perhaps he would have been a basketball player in another life. In this one, his tall form was filled with an equal bulk, being broad chested, broad shouldered, and well muscled. At either side he had what probably were bodyguards, though he dwarfed both of them. He wore a suit (of course he wore a suit) of the devil's own blood red, dark and deep, with a red sheen in the light. The only thing redder was his hair, slicked back with gel or grease. An expensive cologne fragranced his person, undertoned by cigar smoke and werewolf. His angular face looked nothing like Josh's, being narrow and chiseled like some impressionistic statue with a serious brow and a nose like an eagle's beak. His eyes though, the squinty look and the icy blue, those were definitely Josh's.
Igaunde Reggadae / Elizabeth Rogers: Mother
A woman stood at the head of the table. Her blond hair was tightly curled in ringlets, also fashioned in a bob, but richly arrayed with glittering diamonds. Her face was pale, her lashes dark with several layers of mascara, eyelids shadowed by a smoky silver-blue, darker by shades than the nearly white-blue of her eyes, while her lips were painted a blood red. She wore a glittering gown, a ruff of silver fox fur about her shoulders. There was, pinched in her forced smile, either some discomfort or outright resentment, but her voice was touched only lightly with embarrassment as she said in melodious tones, "I do hope you'll find our humble fare acceptable, Alpha Abravious. This is quite the occasion. Had I expected your company, certainly the meal would be more suiting to one of your station. Even so, I trust you shall not be disappointed."
She watched the proceedings with a cool sort of detachment. Though she herself was caked and faked and bedazzled, somehow the simple elegance of the Alpha's woman outshone her own, a beauty both within and without. Was that a flicker of jealousy? That woman, not a werewolf, but a common human female with no background, no breeding, and yet she graced the Alpha's arm and lit up the rooms into which she strode. Or darkened them, depending on one's point of view. She was allowed entrance to this house only because of Him, and He was ruined only because of her. The irony of it was almost nauseating.
Szhekob Reggadae / Jacob Rogers: Brother
Hand in hand with the eldest of Yosir's young men, the man in the crimson velvet suit said, "How is business treating you, Szhekob?"
The eldest son's eyes lit up and a smile brightened his face, sweeping any any trace of uncertainty when the Alpha asked his question. "Very well, sir," he said, clapping his other hand on the Alpha's and giving him a perhaps too exuberant shake. There was a flinch, subtle, beneath the surface, more in the atmosphere than in the face (for he went on smiling), and he subdued himself a touch. "In fact it's never been better. The superiors at the head level are quite impressed with the Alyomous project my team presented at the convention last week. There's talk of a promotion for us, if all goes well."
It was interesting, the contrast between the four young men at the table. The eldest, Szhekob, perhaps in his mid to late twenties, certainly looked most like his father, but for the ruffle of his mother's curls swept through his red hair in waves--though hers had been plastered with hairspray to keep them exactly in place. His face, too, was softer, gentler... not for the lack of experience, for certainly in his eyes was the countenance of a man who knew how to speak to shadows and exactly what was hidden under the glittering facade of his family's decorum. No, the softness was in personality; the boy had none of his father's overbearance, and in his eyes.... it was not innocence, but perhaps a forgiving nature, a willingness to look past faults and find the good--optimism, perhaps.
Yhamir Reggadae / Chase Rogers: Brother
Yhamir's looks favoured his mother, though thinner and taller. He was pale, blond, and had her pale blue eyes, a wily jealousy in them, but his father's crooked smile. He had an almost feminine build, his shoulders narrow, his limbs long and thin. There was an alertness in his face which stood at sharp contrast to Szhekob's easy-going nature or Josh's subdued posture. His bright eyes seemed keen to every gesture, every movement, every word said and unsaid. And still he smiled, as though it were a game he was a witness to, and not participant. Whilst the others had to keep their cards close, there was no rule to keep him from knowing the hands of each player.
Azaia Reggadae / Isaiah Rogers: Brother
Azaia looked more like Josh, broad shouldered, round faced, and stout of build. His hair was a strawberry blond, cropped unevenly, and curled only in the back near his neck. He seemed entirely indisposed to engage in the frivolity of the evening--true, he'd donned a suit as the others, but it was noticeably wrinkled in places, his tie loose and his dress shirt unbuttoned at the neck. He donned a bored and detached expression, save only when one of the younger maids drew nearer his place, at which point there would be a flicker of interest, a glance at his father, and again remiss.
