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21:03, 28th March 2024 (GMT+0)

Christos Vallas

Name: Christos Vallas (goes by Chris)

Age: Roughly 2600 years or so

Race: The final Fate...possibly Oracle, or maybe a Demigod?

Nationality: Greek

Socioeconomic Level Throughout Life:
Christos, as one would expect from an immortal, is quite wealthy. Throughout his life, he has taken on many jobs, many careers. Some of which were high paying jobs, while others offered meager earnings. While he has amassed a large sum, it is spread out over many different bank accounts, under countless names. He has gone through hundreds of aliases, moving from place to place when suspicion falls upon his unaging form, taking a different name each step of the way. While Chris is, by no means, the richest man in the world, his horde places him solidly in the one percent.

Chris has invested in many businesses around town (several popular coffee shops, bars, malls, arcades, etc.), most of which bring in a decent amount of cash each year. He is always looking to invest in/sponsor new businesses, to help them get off the ground. Chris also owns and runs 'Vallas Investigations,' a small business that he cares for dearly. Although it doesn't bring in much money, he considers it to be among his most valuable possessions.

While he does prefer to collect wealth, rather than give it out, Chris has sponsored several charities. The foremost of which is aptly named 'Second Chance'. The organization aims to collect donations, in hopes of helping and protecting the remaining humans across the world.

Although Christos is well known around town, little is known of his heritage, of his past- he tends to keep his secrets just that...secret.

Occupation: Depends, really. He has held many titles and careers throughout his extensive life. At the moment, he fancies himself a Private Investigator of sorts- willing to take on jobs from humans, or otherwise, in hopes of preserving the peace as long as possible.

The Vallas name is well-known around town, for many different reasons. One being the charity organizations that he sponsors, but he is also known for helping the little guys (humans).

Talents/Skills:
Excellent Marksman
Hand To Hand Combat (he has trained in several forms of martial arts)
Persuasion/Intimidation (he has a silver tongue)
Precision Driving
Investigation
Reading People (it's difficult to lie to someone who knows your tells)

Best quality: His smile, sense of humor and his outright determination.

Worst quality: His attitude, his need to be sarcastic in serious situations and his stubbornness.

Most Recent Relationship Details: Chris was once married to a mortal woman several centuries back. Time, as it does with most things, took its toll on her. She now rests in a grave on the island of Rhodes. He has not taken a lover since her death, and has no intentions to do so. Chris has always believed that each person only gets one love of their life, and he was unfortunate enough to have a mortal as his own.

Hobbies:
-Investigation...curiosity killed the cat, but it hasn't found a way to kill him, yet.
-Gaming, whether it be video games, arcade games, games of chance, or good old fashioned board games. He's rather good at chess.
- Traveling. Chris has traveled the world several times over, and plans to do it again eventually.
- Miscellaneous. There are a lot of things Chris likes to do that he wouldn't consider actual hobbies. He's very open minded, and will generally try anything once. Although, he is easily bored, as the ageless tend to be after living for millennia.

Personality:
Christos is a smart ass, to put it simply. He's sarcastic and has a very dry sense of humor, but he's a nice guy. Chris is a little rough around the edges, so it takes a minute to warm up to him. Some may think he's an asshole, but others find him to be a loving guy with a big heart and a penchant for helping those in need- it's all a matter of perspective.

Appearance:
Overall, Chris would be considered quite attractive, by human standards. While he isn't nearly on par with the beauty of the Fae, the Sidhe in particular, he is handsome nonetheless.

Clocking in at 6'0" and 170LBS, he is a fairly average male specimen, at least on the outside.

Chris has a wiry musculature that suits his form quite well. It is not the hard, overly large musculature of a body builder, or someone who regularly works out. Rather, he has the lean muscles of a working man, someone who has worked their whole life to get what they want.

More often than not, Chris can be seen dressed casually- tshirts and jeans. However, he cleans up very well. He has an extensive wardrobe of fine suits and tuxes, mixed in with his day to day wear. Sometimes he can be seen wearing hats, but those are rare occasions. Judging by his overall attire, it is obvious that he prefers darker tones.

Chris alternates between keeping a short, neatly trimmed beard, and going clean shaven. In all honesty, he does not have a preference.

However, on the few occasion that his beard does start to grow out, it is an obvious sign (to those who know him) that he has been obsessing over one of his cases. It is not uncommon for him to become lost in his investigations, to go days without sleep or nourishment.

Note: Christos' eyes glow a beautiful shade of blue, when he is utilizing his powers.

Power/Abilities Strengths:

Fruit of the Gods: Chris is the result of the mating of Apollo and one of the three Fates...as Gods do. As a child of a God and a Fate, he is considered a demigod of sorts, or something similar at least. Due to his -partial- divinity, Christos has been granted the physiology of his parents, though not quite on their level. He is stronger, faster, and much more durable than the average human, but he is not immortal, unkillable. Chris is ageless, meaning that he cannot die simply due to old age- he has a healing factor that keeps his body in amazing shape inside and out. While the gods tend to ignore most prayers, they tend to heed those of their own blood- Chris has been known to commune with the gods, on occasion, through prayer. It is extremely rare that they grant his wishes, but it has been known to happen once or twice.

Final Fate: As a child of Fate, or one of them anyways, Chris has always been tied into the fabric of the world, in one way or another. His actions, his words, have meaning- if he wants them to. Chris is able to sense the fate of other beings, if they are destined for greatness or an early grave. While he is a child of one of the Fates (he's unsure which), he differs from them. The Fates end lives with the snip of a thread, while Christos is able to either hurry someone's death, or push them towards greatness. This cannot be done out of love or hate, but by the weighing of the effect a person may or may not have on the world around them. Put simply, Chris intrinsically knows what actions, what words, what events are considered prerequisites for someone to meet their fate. In the end, this ability is but a simple push of a button, a pull of a string, a simple nudge in the right (or wrong) direction. The outcome depends wholly on the person being nudged, whether they follow through as fate would have it. To sense someone's true fate, Chris is required to have physical contact with that person. A simple touch would suffice for a quick glance, but an extended touch may grant more knowledge on that person's fate.

Oracle of Apollo: As a child of Apollo, Christos has always had a connection to the Oracles of the world, to the future itself, in some small part. Chris is able to tell the future of the beings around him, of the world, of other supernatural or preternatural entities. Using his 'fate' powers, he is able to change some of the outcomes, depending on his actions. However, there are some things even a child of fate cannot change, no matter how hard he meddles. As would be expected of an Oracle, Christos often receives 'visions' from the gods, visions of what is to come. These revelations are painful, to say the least, incapacitating him for several minutes. However, they are certainly worth the pain. The visions evolve into prophecies...prophecies that help those around him immensely, if seen to fruition. While receiving an actual vision is a major event, Chris is able to glance into his own future without much trouble, but only a few minutes ahead of his current position in his timeline. He is able to see the extended future of others, but only moments into his own- something that has always irritated him to no end.

Power/Abilities Weaknesses:
Divine weapons, other demi-gods, rituals and spells.

Background Story (Pre-Crossover):
For a child of the Fates, all things are possible...


Born in the age of the Greeks, Christos remembers a time of open worship and sacrifices to the Gods. He also remembers the fall of the Greeks, as well as the Romans. He remembers how the Gods slunk back into their shadows, their homes, and left the humans to their own devices once the sacrifices stopped coming.

Chris remembers hundreds of wars, millions of deaths. He remembers civilizations rising then toppling in mere centuries. He remembers fighting alongside his cousins, his brothers, to forge their own path, their way in the world, only to be exiled to foreign lands and shadows, because of the blood that pumped through their veins. He remembers it all, vividly, but he does not let it define him.

A man of many centuries, millennia, Christos grew through his experiences, learned how to hide his identity, to appear as a human, for all intents and purposes. As the ages passed, he left his past behind him, and moved forward into the age of man, of mortals. The Gods were long gone, resting in their ivory towers, on their mountains. The world belonged to the mortals, and they took it by force.

Christos, a name that was once commonly spoken, faded away, erased from the history books, from the minds of those who knew him as day turned to year and year turned to century.

As any one of the ageless would do, Christos started his life anew, adapting the ways of the mortals, becoming like them over time. He traveled the world for many years, learning the ways of the humans, attempting to understand their various cultures and the differences worldwide.

Eventually settling in North America, Chris began working, acquiring friends as he went. Over the years, he amassed wealth to rival the most prominent humans of the age. He was happy to keep playing the fool, playing his part.

When the storms struck, destroying cities left and right, Christos was swept up in the wave of supernatural beings revealing themselves. Mob mentality set in...he revealed himself, using his abilities to help in the taking of several towns and cities, making many new friends and connections along the way.

Background Story (Post-Crossover):
The adrenaline soon wore off, and he retired from the war on the humans. He moved to Portland, in an attempt to start over again. Since moving to the city, he has made a name for himself...actually using his real name, for the first time in millennia, rather than some alias or another.

He met many of the supernaturals living in town, making connections here and there, and enemies elsewhere. Chris is currently running a P.I. business, taking on cases to help out where he can.

Writing Sample: Your character is at standing near a bus stop, when a group of shifters holds everyone up with a gun. They show their claws and fangs and threaten to kill anyone who doesn't give up their goods. What does your character do?

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Chris leaned against the bus stop, waiting. It had been a long day, to say the least. The investigation wasn't going as expected...the suspect (a wolf shifter) fled town, heading toward New York it seemed. Chris had never liked planes, and there were no trains that would match his time frame, so a bus it was. This time. It wouldn't happen next time, he'd make sure of that.

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Glancing at the woman on the bench who was tapping her foot impatiently, Chris bit back a few venomous words. The tapping was annoying, but not worth making a scene. Deciding he'd endure it until the bus arrived, he turned away, folding his arms as he leaned against the wall.

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Noting that there were twelve people at the stop, Chris frowned. The bus was late, and people were getting antsy. Why couldn't things happen in a timely manner, just this once? Sighing, Chris pushed himself off of the wall and walked around.

The perp was on his way to New York. Why? Did he have connections there, or was he simply running, hoping NYC would be a good place to hide? Assuming it was the former, his brow creased. What connections? Family, maybe, or an old friend. A partner in crime, perhaps, or possibly even a lover.

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The package the suspect had -allegedly- stolen was worth millions, if he could find the right buyer. Perhaps he was looking for a buyer in New York, or what was left of it...there were plenty of shifty types in the drowned city.

Chris turned toward the bench, noting the rythmic tap-tap-tapping had ceased. Spotting three hooded figures, two of which were quite large standing near the bench, he perked up, listening.

Hearing the soft whimpering of the old lady, Chris took a few steps toward the bench, attempting to get a closer look. Slipping his hand into his jacket, where his old revolver was hidden, he kept an eye on the people near the woman.

Moments later, shots were fired into the air by the smaller figure, while the two larger ones snatched up the old lady and held her a few feet in the air, in front of the one with the gun. "I said give me your bag, bitch," the one with the gun snapped, before pistol whipping her across the face, and snatching the bag out of her hand.

Chris' eyes widened at the sight, watching the blood trickle down the woman's face from the gash left by the gun. Clenching his teeth in anger, and gripping the revolver firmly in his right hand, he took another step forward.

The man with the gun fired a few more shots into the air. "Everyone, empty your pockets," he shouted at the others, glancing around the room at each and every person. The nearby humans stood their frozen in terror, eyes glued to the gun. "Now," the man barked. "Or we can do it the hard way," he continued, then looked to the other two goons.

The two large ones dropped the woman and removed their hoods. Each of them began shifting, in turn, but did not shift fully. Coming out of the partial shift deadly claws and razor sharp fangs, the two shifts offered snarls to the humans closest to them.

A baby cried in the arms of its mother, as she emptied her pockets and threw her purse on the ground. The other humans followed suit quickly enough, but Christos did not move. Feeling around in his pocket, he counted how many spare rounds he had on him- six in the revolver, and six more loose in the pocket, all of which were silver. It wasn't often that Chris left home without some silver on him, as a general precaution.

As the shifters moved to collect the items on the ground, leaving the man with the gun all alone, Chris acted. He drew his revolver and fired off two shots in one fluid movement, aiming for the heart and the head respectively.

The shots connected, dropping the gunman to the ground, and alerting the shifters to Chris' presence. Knowing he had to move, and fast, he ran, hoping to draw the thugs away from the humans. He knew they would catch him eventually (he couldn't hope to keep up with the sheer speed of a shifter), but he kept going, running several blocks before slowing.

One of the shifters slammed into his back as he slowed- it had finished its shift into a large wolf by the time they connected. Chris and the wolf went sprawling to the ground, wrestling for the advantage.

Several shots were fired (three to be exact), tearing through the wolf's chest and dropping it to the ground, lifeless. 'One left,' he thought, referring to the other shifter, as well as the one round left in the revolver.

Chris pushed himself to his feet just in time to spot the other shifter pouncing at him. Rolling to the side, he was barely able to dodge the leaping wolf. Moving quickly, he fell to one knee, propped his arm up on his leg and took aim at the beast as it crashed to the ground. Lining up his shot, Chris fired his last round, just as it turned to assault him once more.

The bullet tore through the wolf's left eye, the silver burning its flesh as it passed through its head and into the nearest wall. The wolf fell to the ground, and Chris was able to breathe again.

Sighing, he collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily. Laying flat on his back, he looked up at the night sky, at the moon. "It was s'posed to be a simple case," he complained between ragged breaths. Maybe it was a coincidence that wolf shifters attacked the bus stop, as he was on the trail of another, but it was unlikely. He was sure they were connected somehow.

It was time to call in some favors.