Timothy Wood
From Changeling Venue
| Seeming | Elemental Woodblood |
|---|---|
| Court | Summer Court •• |
| Freehold | House of Cards |
| Player | Marcus O'Shea |
Contents |
Overview
| Alias(es): Hunter
Real Name: Timothy Wood Age: 32 Concept: The Forest Archer Physical description: Mask: Short brunette hair and a short beard, wiry and strong. Standing about 5'11 with a well defined frame. He is good looking enough if seen in the right light, but won't win any beauty prizes with a fairest in the room. His clothing tends towards the forest of greens. Mein: His hair is made of twigs and leaves, his skin takes on a slight barkish look to it. |  |
Character Information
Background
|
Prologue: In the beginning it was simply a question of perseverance. He was committed and driven. He had a goal and nothing at all would stop him. This single precious bit of time, the purchase of which had been the lifeblood of his youth, sucked up and spit out on the altar of competition, all of his life to this point which culminated in this single dilation of a moment. He drew and released, the arrow flew to the only spot in which it could possibly fly, in a thousand variations of a million universes, to the center of the bulls-eye. A sigh, a gasp of crushed dreams, the bitter taste of defeat from those whom simply could not continue on, the silent desperation of the vanquished was overcome when a cheer went up and Timothy Wood was an official member of the USA Olympic Archery team. A short time later he walked alone on his family’s farm, searching, bow in hand, having taken a thin respite between joining the hectic training schedule and winning the spot which guaranteed him such. He walked along the edge of the vast forest which bordered the farm, and seeing a glint, a rumor of movement within the softness of the darkened undergrowth, he silently stalked forward, perhaps one last trophy and a haunch of venison. He became one with the trees. It was only a short distance into the wood, and he entered the Hedge, sensing the wrongness of the place he brought his bow up and sighted upon… something… the bow shattered, piercing him in a hundred places where sharp things made for ripping, and the flesh seemed to cut so easily. He fell backward, the madness swelled around him and it was all. |  |
Arcadia:
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The flash of feathers in flight The cry of desperate prey The heart swelling joy of a job well done The splintering pain of failure Glimpses of memories, rustling through brief moments of clarity. He was the huntsman for the Keeper, his arrow removing that which displeased them, his stalking that which ran towards the languid, deadly grace of his Master. In the time of seasons when his Keeper tired of such games, he slept in a long slumber of silent, his being digging deep within the earth. When the Keeper’s interest was again renewed he would be brought back to the realm of the awakened. After some time a pet was given to him. Loyal and trained. An eternity, an instant later a pretty bauble fell upon him and his pet. A thing of beauty and the Keeper played such a cruel game. Perhaps just this one time, the Master could do without this lost toy... |
Escape:
The tree, the hound and the pretty fled across the wood and the Pale One followed. The gasping of tired lungs, the burning of cruel wounds gifted from the Arcadian forest. The sure knowledge that what is to come, the pain of a soul united but so much smaller and the sheer terror of the memories of what lays behind, driving them on with cracking whip of some small spark of destiny.
A small park, serene and calm. A pond with a lazy swan floating by. The stillness of a balmy Orlando winter is shattered when the three escaped from the rabbit hole.
Their bodies freed, and their minds slowly trying to comprehend what has become of... everything.
What is and could be:
Time passed, knowledged was gained. The motley Timothy was part of sought the truth and wisdom that lay within and without.
As they were lost, they became finders of lost things.
They were The Seekers.
They traveled far and wide, and settled within the city that had first saw their freedom. A pledge was made to see the freehold that they dwelled at would be well warned should those whom wished to corrupt it come.
Timothy exists. He still searches for something lost and whispered only in the faintest parts of his dreams. The consumate forest dweller, his bow and his skills see the motley through the stalking and bringing down of their prey. In an ironic twist, only the prey has changed since Timothy left Arcadia. Now the hunter becomes the hunted. Sometimes even monsters have nightmares.
Motley
Met on the Trail
Jameson Cooper - Timothy Hunted him in Arcadia
(People Hunter has met or spent a bit of time with)
Enemies
Character Inspirations
Maugrim from C.S. Lewis' Narnia
The Huntsman from the 10th Kingdom
The Gunslinger from the Dark Tower series
Robin Hood
Soundtrack
The Queen And The Soldier by Suzanne Vega
Shot in the Dark by Ozzy Osbourne
A Forest by the Cure
Fallen by Sarah McLaughlin
Let the Bodies Hit the Floor by Drowning Pool
Words
Fallen Leaves
- "Try to avoid the more blatent piles of dead leaves. They tend to make more noise than we'd like the Fae to hear at the moment." - to a fellow traveler amongst the woods.
- "What IS the going price for a dead Queen of Autumn's body?" - in reference to bringing the body of Cassandra back to the House of Cards
- "Violence should be our last option. There are almost always better ways to settle fights that can leave everyone not bleeding so much.
(Hunter said something? Put it here)
Seeds of Discontent
- "He's not done with his hunting of Changelings."
(Hear a rumor about Hunter? Put it here)
Stump Speech
- "This man is a freakin' genius. I don't even know how many people I've met, hit, or been in a damned motley with who think that the best way to keep an eye on the shit happening in the Hedge is to go INTO the Hedge and look around. They don't seem to realize that, (a) there's more weird shit there than you can shake your junk at, and (b), the shit in there is not the fucking problem. Tim, brilliant, wise, beautiful man that he is, takes his Motley and keeps an eye on the damn gateways to the Hedge, and watches for dumbasses going in that shouldn't, and for things coming out that should have stayed the fuck put, all while staying HERE, in this world. This world might have murderers, users, pushers, soccer moms, and evil forces bent on mayhem and the raping of baby whales, but it's a damn sight better, and safer, than the goddamn Hedge." - Dzxoxian Brokehorn
- "Hunter good, he let Raph sleep under bed and eat asparagus, but no Changlings, Changlings give you the shits" - Rapheal "Raph" Carddec
- "What better hunter of the quiet places, the woods, than a woodsman himself?" - Gaius Arctorus
(Got something to say about Hunter? Put it here)
