Location:  ukfurs
Profession: Programmer
Languages: PHP, C#, JavaScr — Ah, I mean; English. en-GB, en-US.
Likes: Computers, Software Architecture, Lycanthropy, Helping, Thinking, Night, Rain, Randomness

Lycanthrope-at-heart, with a big soft side.
Approachable, despite how my weresona may appear!
I do roleplay, but due to various commitments my time is quite limited; when I'm around I can only manage one or two at a time at most.

Games include…
Modern Warfare 1–3 [PS3]
Resident Evil 5 [PS3]
Halo 1–4
Metal Gear Solid 1–4 [GC/PS2/PS3]
MGSV The Phantom Pain [PS3]
GTA4 [PS3]
Skyrim [360]
Sonic 4 [360]
The Wolf Among Us [PS3]
GoldenEye 007 [Wii]
007 Legends [360]
Skies of Arcadia
NightFire [GC]
Everything or Nothing [GC]
Sonic Adventure 1–2
GoldenEye [N64]
Perfect Dark [360]
Mario 64
Sonic CD [MCD]
Worms 2 [PC]
Civilization IV [PC, not Steam]
Streets of Rage
Dynamite Headdy
Quackshot


weresona — Eleven
Species: Werewolf, pure-blooded (born as one)
Gender: Male
Coloring: Dark Timber Wolf
Height: Above average
Age: above average / slightly old
Eyes: Pale Yellow
Default Stance: Bipedal
Approximate Rank: Pack Elder, but mostly a lone wolf
Clothes/Adornments/e.t.c.: None
Location: Behind you…
Named after the hour before midnight, Eleven is older and wiser than the average werewolf, but still retains the strength and agility of a young adult male. Like many of his kind, Eleven is an instinctual being with little inhibitions, driven by primal urges. However, with his age and experience in the world has come a certain tempering, a certain degree of control, allowing him to hold back and call on his rage when needed. As such, his general demeanor is not ravenous, but it is often close to the edge of control. When hunting, he thrives on the fear of his prey, and will often prolong the hunt by trapping them in order to extract further terror. In the present he mainly exists as a lone wolf, but he is known by other packs, and has had some involvement with them as an elder adviser. But despite this he is no leader, and has little desire to lead. He can use spoken language but has a mild dislike for it, preferring the more natural language of the forest, and of his fellow kind; the turn of a head, the flick of an ear, the swish of a tail. He does not possess any weapons or accessories, for there is no need. As a werewolf he is already engineered by nature to be the perfect weapon, without the need for clumsy artificial appendages; tooth and claw are his tools. Eleven's home is the natural world. Like many werewolves, he has an intense dislike of its counterpart, the artificial world. Although able enough to occasionally venture into it to hunt, he has no knowledge of it or its many cultures and nuances. Customs, manners, ambitions, order; all such things are simply inconceivable to his mind.