Post by AceTheMercenary on Nov 17, 2015 7:31:14 GMT -6
Character Name: Dustin Hale (or 'Dusty' for short)
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Birthplace: Lawrence, Kansas
Race: Nephilim (A child born of a human and an angel)
Physical Appearance (Photo or description):
In terms of physicality, Dusty stands at the height of 5'10" and has a lean but hard, muscular build, owing to years of keeping himself in shape. In terms of his attire he wears a faded blue Henley shirt and blue jeans, with a pair of tan combat boots completing the outfit. Hidden in the back of his pants is a .500 Smith and Wesson magnum at all times, customized with a silver frame and barrel. A cameo of Mother Mary is embedded on the handle, while the sides of the barrel are emblazoned with the words "Monsters Fear This" and "Devils Can't Hide", written in Enochian script.
Good, Evil, or Neutral: Good
Strengths: Being a Nephilim, Dusty possesses a unique set of strengths, which aid him greatly in his chosen profession: namely hunting down the monsters that would dare to prey on humanity in the darkness. Owing to his parentage, he possesses physical strength that rivals and occasionally even surpasses the angels who would call him an abomination -- he has proven himself capable of throwing the few who hunted him around with relative ease, and can lift much more than his own body weight. This strength also applies to his legs, enabling him to jump or leap incredible distances and heights, if need be. He also possesses a few abilities relevant to angels, such as an advanced healing factor and superhuman endurance, as well as the ability to perceive angels and demons in their true forms from the start.
Growing up as the child of a hunter has taught him the human ways of hunting supernatural creatures as well, giving him a broad array of tactics to deal with each and every type of creature one can think of, making him flexible and capable of meeting the demands of almost any given situation with a sensible plan.
Weaknesses: Being the child of a human and an angel also comes with its unfortunate weaknesses, however. Declared an abomination that shouldn't exist by Heaven, crossing paths with any angels is likely to end in bloodshed. His abilities, though very strong and obviously make him more than human, are dependent heavily upon emotion as to whether they can be used to full effect: the more rage he feels, the more powerful he will be. His healing factor is less capable than that of angels owing to his human heritage, and he is more susceptible to bleeding out or dying from human weapons than his full-blooded kin. Nephilim are also still mortal, and as a result are still vulnerable to the workings of magic in most of its forms.
Weapon Of Choice (Within reason): A .500 S&W magnum, customized as explained above. Though already an overwhelmingly powerful firearm, the barrel has been consecrated by his angelic cousin to provide even more of a kick to supernatural beings, and often uses customized ammunition tailored to give an edge against whatever creature he is hunting. In addition he favors a sawed-off shotgun simply for the crowd-clearing power it has, and uses many other weapons as well wherever necessary, from the humble knife and crossbow to even weapons of large scale destruction if he can get his hands on them, such as rocket launchers.
Abilities:
Superior Strength: Few creatures can surpass the raw physical might contained in a Nephilim's body, and they have the strength to lift objects many times their own weight if need be, smash through solid concrete walls, and take far more punishment than humans ever could without much discomfort or injury. They are more powerful than most other supernatural creatures, save deities and the highest ranking angels (and some exceptions, such as exceptionally powerful Alpha werewolves or vampires who have been around for six hundred years or more), and their strength is tied mostly to their anger: the more rage they feel and the fiercer the battle around them, the more muscle mass they pack on and the powerful they become, providing a theoretical limitless increase in strength. This strength also applies to their legs, allowing them to leap huge heights or distances if necessary.
Superhuman Endurance: Though still mortal, a Nephilim's body is physically tougher and much more resistant to damage than the body of a normal human. While they can still take damage through all the normal means and be killed by knives, bullets, shrapnel and physical blows, their bodies hold together far better than any other's. They can withstand great impacts, such as being hit by a heavy blunt object (a sledgehammer, for example), falling from a height of several stories, or being struck by an opponent of similar or superior physical strength, though it still causes pain and discomfort and occasionally stuns them for a while.
Longevity: Though still technically mortal, meaning they will eventually die of old age, Nephilim have a much slower aging process than humans -- unmolested and allowed to live, they can potentially live to be up to five hundred years old, though many of them will never make it that far considering how often they're hunted by their full-blooded kin.
Healing Factor: While not as powerful as a full-blooded angel's, a Nephilim possesses a powerful healing factor; lesser cuts and wounds can heal in a matter of moments if concentrated upon, although larger wounds can take much longer and will likely require rest and recuperation. The speed of regeneration is entirely dependant on both how severe the injury is, and their emotions: a Nephilim feeling intense rage in the heat of a fierce battle is a force to be reckoned with, and can heal at an astonishingly quicker rate than a calm one outside of combat. This has the side effect of an extremely accelerated metabolism as well, which allows a Nephilim to stay in near perfect physical shape with much less exercise than a human, as well as a dramatically increased appetite, which means a Nephilim requires a significantly greater amount of calories per day than humans to keep their bodies functioning in peak condition, giving rise to a penchant for fast food, mass-produced snack cakes, and other things saturated in calories and fats.
Sacred Blood: As beings of angelic descent, the blood that courses through a Nephilim's veins is blessed with the essence of the divine. Their blood is sacred, and is far too potent for a vampire or other bloodthirsty creature to drink from: at best it does the opposite effect than the one intended, inducing a drug-like stupor or weakening them exponentially, and in worse cases with lesser creatures it burns their vile, damned bodies from the inside out until nothing but ashes remain. Nephilim can also use their blood to heal humans if desired by transfusing them with it; while it cannot bring the deceased back to life, it greatly boosts the injured human's immune system, eradicates any traces of poison in the body, and pushes their own meager healing capabilities into overdrive. They also use their blood to mix it in weapons to use against supernatural beings; such as filling bullets with it or dripping a vial of it over a blade. The angelic blood also has the side effect of adding to their physical beauty, and it causes their features to seemingly glow when they are in the best of moods.
Personality: Understanding, funny, mischievous and slightly immature are the best ways to describe Dusty. He is a friendly, if a bit rough around the edges individual, and tends to treat everyone at least more or less politely, with some obvious exceptions considering how often his world deals with the supernatural, and he is quite slow to trust as a result. Anyone who manages to get close enough to him, however, will find a particularly loyal friend willing to sacrifice it all to keep them safe if need be. He has a very clear-cut, black and white view of things: one is either an ally, an enemy, or one that needs to stay away from him and his affairs, with no exceptions. He also possesses a decidedly flirty personality around a pretty face and can be quite good with the ladies, though occasionally he can be seen as a womanizer as a result.
He is an avid fan of classical rock and fast food, and most of the aliases he uses involve the names of famous rock musicians. He uses crude humor on occasion, pop culture references, and occasionally makes sexual innuendos, usually earning an elbow to the ribs from Josh in the process. He greatly prefers hunting the supernatural over the idea of settling down to a normal life, and the very idea of planting roots is painful for him to think about. Tough, dependable, unwilling to leave others behind and a great leader figure, he is an ideal individual when it comes to dealing with the supernatural, something he does quite well.
History:
The offspring of a hunter and an angel, Dusty's early life was anything but normal. Instead of being raised like a normal child, where the only worries were not going to bed hungry and going to school the next day, Dusty was raised like a warrior: almost as soon as he could walk, he was learning to fire guns, how to make salt barriers, and the quickest ways to dispatch a room filled with creatures if such a situation ever came about. He was kept blissfully ignorant of what he was throughout the early years of his life, and accompanied his father and uncle on many of their hunting trips as soon as he was of age to do so, earning valuable experience which he would then put back in as the next generation of the Hale "family business", a business that was decidedly unusual as it revolved around hunting the unseen, deadly creatures lurking away from polite society.
Eventually he would grow enough to hunt on his own, and went off to Pennsylvania to check into a string of gruesome murders taking place in one of the larger cities, Scranton, wherein the victims had been ripped nearly to shreds in what almost looked like an animal attack. While his father and uncle were certain it was a werewolf and that he'd be fine on his own, Dusty was still nevertheless apprehensive about the whole thing as he pulled into the city limits in the old 1965 Mustang that he and his father had bought and had restored (via stolen credit cards, naturally). It would be the first time he would be going in alone with no support, and he knew well how strong werewolves could be.
After faking being an FBI agent and going to view the corpses in the morgue, he had no doubt that a werewolf was behind the attacks: the bodies had quite literally been ripped apart, something that no normal human killer would ever have been capable of. Next, he went to the police department, and through the same means of identity theft got his hands on a list of potential suspects and talked to each one in turn, though none of them struck him as being particularly out of the ordinary, save one man who acted vaguely defensive when he had questioned him.
Out of leads and with a full moon on the rise that night, he returned to his hotel's parking lot to call his father and uncle and inform them both of his progress and his relative lack of information, then decided that perhaps it'd merely be best to drive aimlessly through the streets for a while, to see if he could somehow catch the suspect in the act.
When he had stopped at a stoplight and a woman had ran up to his car, beating on the window before a large, furry hand smashed her head through the glass, he knew he'd made the right choice, although he had still been too late to prevent another victim. He made a dive for his gun in the dashboard and leaped out of the car, irritated that his car had been made part of the abuse, and blasted the creature in the back with his oversized handgun right as it turned to run down an alleyway, sending it crashing through a pair of garbage cans before chasing off after it. What followed was a deadly game of cat and mouse through the alleyways of the downtown district of Scranton, eventually culminating with the werewolf ambushing him in one of them and his gun skidding away behind a pair of dumpsters.
Despite the werewolf's seemingly obvious advantange and superior physical strength, Dusty found, to his surprise, that not only was he able to fend it off, but actually overpower it -- and in short order the predator had become the prey as Dusty threw it about from one side of the alleyway to the other with enough force to crack the brick walls of the buildings around them, or crush the concrete of the street beneath them. After beating the werewolf quite literally into submission, he smashed the creature through the dumpsters, causing his gun to slide out from underneath it. Effortlessly, he reached down to grab the weapon, and right as the werewolf struggled to stand, a bullet exploded through its head and killed it.
Still in awe of how he had been able to pound the creature into the ground -- even as a child he had known he was physically strong, but not to such a degree as this -- he decided to leave right as he heard sirens off in the distance, running back to his car and peeling out just moments before the police arrived. Once a safe distance away from the scene, a gigantic double-bacon cheeseburger in his hand at the table of a fast food joint, he had called his father to inform him of his success -- and also to demand answers, as what he had done in the alleyway certainly wasn't natural. With a sigh, his father had proceeded to explain the other, more 'unique' side of his parentage: his mother had been an angel, making him a half-blooded son of God, and that apparently some of her strengths had been reincarnated in him. Though shocked by the revelation, Dusty shrugged it off as best he could and, taking a massive bite of the burger, decided that in the grand scheme of things it didn't matter so much. He had loved his mother, though he hadn't known her for long before she'd disappeared one day (or returned to Heaven, as the case apparently was), so what did it matter that she wasn't exactly human? His father ended the call hoping to see him soon, though not before giving the young man a stern warning: avoid contact with his angelic kin at all costs.
More years passed and Dusty had truly become worthy of the title of 'hunter', having at the very least gone after just about everything he could think of and exterminated them. It wasn't long before he found himself on the trail of werewolves once again, however: this time in a small town in South Carolina, one of the biggest packs he had ever heard of before that hadn't exactly been all that secretive about its feeding. While the police were baffled, he knew what the deal was, and with his destination in mind, he started driving once again.
When he finally arrived, he was immediately struck by how 'off' the inhabitants seemed to be: despite being dressed like one would expect in a small town of about 200 people, the wide, toothy grins they had and the bright, hungry eyes struck him as very odd indeed. The townspeople, though friendly, claimed that they'd lived in the town for years, and that none of them knew anything about the brutal slayings that had been going on throughout the area. Puzzled, he decided to stay in town for a while and observe them -- there was something seriously wrong about the town, but he couldn't put his finger on it. The hotel he decided to stay at wasn't really a hotel at all -- more of an older woman's home with several bedrooms that had been converted into guest rooms. Though he felt frustrated, he was sure the answers would come the longer he observed the town.
The answers came readily enough, when that night a pair of werewolves bashed down his door, sparking yet another fight for survival. Just as had been the case in Scranton, however, the werewolves, though strong, were of little match for his physical strength: he'd shot the first one in the head, ending it quickly, while the other one he'd sent flying down the stairs of the home before putting it down in a similar fashion and sending the corpse crashing through the wall of the home. As he stepped out into the darkness of the night, he locked eyes with a peculiar young man standing in the street, wielding a sword with a slew of dead werewolves laid around him in various states of disrepair. His question had been answered, the whole town was nothing but werewolves -- but remembering his father's warning and seeing the bright gold halo around this young man's head, the werewolves seemed a suddenly insignificant foe as he locked eyes with the thing his father had told him to avoid. The sword-wielding angel's body glowed with ethereal white light, revealing a huge set of shadowy wings in what seemed to be a challenge, and a cursory glance behind him revealed that Dusty possessed his own set, albeit more different and upright looking as opposed to the wingspan of an eagle.
Unmoving, he stared the angel down, silently clicking back the hammer of his magnum as the angel raised his blade. Before things could come to violence, however, the rest of the town's inhabitants arrived in their bestial forms, prompting the two to call a temporary truce in order to deal with the infestation. It was a long battle, but the werewolves proved to be no match for an angel's powers combined with the strength of a nephilim. In short order they were surrounded by the corpses of their foes, and Dusty immediately turned his attention back to the angel to deal with the next bit of nasty business, but he was startled when instead of resuming hostilities, the angel merely asked who he was and what he was doing there. Before he knew it he had been drawn into an easy conversation with the angel, who called himself 'Joshua', and they had talked for an entire hour, to the point of where the corpses around them had begun to stink. The angel had seemed particularly intrigued when Dusty had spoken of his occupation, and actually asked if he could come along for the ride. Naturally, Dusty was rather wary of the possibility of one of his kin coming with him, but it appeared as if all traces of former hostility in the angel had disappeared after the fight, so he hesitantly agreed, and the first smile he'd seen all day spread across the angel's cheeks.
Together the two burned the corpses they'd left behind, and then left the town just as quickly. Though still keeping his distance from Josh as much as possible, Dusty was eventually proven wrong as the angel seemed ready and willing to help with any task they set themselves to, and the distrust eroded quickly over the years: first to mutual acceptance, then to friendship, and then finally to the point of where they were almost like brothers, completely and utterly inseperable.
After hunting together for a very long time, they eventually caught the trail of an unusually large vampire coven operating out of New Orleans, and promptly drove to the city to destroy them. After doing so, they would later on find out that they likely missed one of them, as more would spring up almost a month or so afterwards. Though it took a while, they eventually found a certain pattern to the nests popping up, and almost caught their prey on one instance, though he always seemed to be a step ahead and kept moving on.
At the start of the RPG they have begun traveling to Chasm, Nevada, continuing to dog their prey wherever possible. Though they had come to the town for relatively simple reasons, eventually they would discover that Chasm held many secrets and dangers in the darkness that were anything but simple.
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Birthplace: Lawrence, Kansas
Race: Nephilim (A child born of a human and an angel)
Physical Appearance (Photo or description):
In terms of physicality, Dusty stands at the height of 5'10" and has a lean but hard, muscular build, owing to years of keeping himself in shape. In terms of his attire he wears a faded blue Henley shirt and blue jeans, with a pair of tan combat boots completing the outfit. Hidden in the back of his pants is a .500 Smith and Wesson magnum at all times, customized with a silver frame and barrel. A cameo of Mother Mary is embedded on the handle, while the sides of the barrel are emblazoned with the words "Monsters Fear This" and "Devils Can't Hide", written in Enochian script.
Good, Evil, or Neutral: Good
Strengths: Being a Nephilim, Dusty possesses a unique set of strengths, which aid him greatly in his chosen profession: namely hunting down the monsters that would dare to prey on humanity in the darkness. Owing to his parentage, he possesses physical strength that rivals and occasionally even surpasses the angels who would call him an abomination -- he has proven himself capable of throwing the few who hunted him around with relative ease, and can lift much more than his own body weight. This strength also applies to his legs, enabling him to jump or leap incredible distances and heights, if need be. He also possesses a few abilities relevant to angels, such as an advanced healing factor and superhuman endurance, as well as the ability to perceive angels and demons in their true forms from the start.
Growing up as the child of a hunter has taught him the human ways of hunting supernatural creatures as well, giving him a broad array of tactics to deal with each and every type of creature one can think of, making him flexible and capable of meeting the demands of almost any given situation with a sensible plan.
Weaknesses: Being the child of a human and an angel also comes with its unfortunate weaknesses, however. Declared an abomination that shouldn't exist by Heaven, crossing paths with any angels is likely to end in bloodshed. His abilities, though very strong and obviously make him more than human, are dependent heavily upon emotion as to whether they can be used to full effect: the more rage he feels, the more powerful he will be. His healing factor is less capable than that of angels owing to his human heritage, and he is more susceptible to bleeding out or dying from human weapons than his full-blooded kin. Nephilim are also still mortal, and as a result are still vulnerable to the workings of magic in most of its forms.
Weapon Of Choice (Within reason): A .500 S&W magnum, customized as explained above. Though already an overwhelmingly powerful firearm, the barrel has been consecrated by his angelic cousin to provide even more of a kick to supernatural beings, and often uses customized ammunition tailored to give an edge against whatever creature he is hunting. In addition he favors a sawed-off shotgun simply for the crowd-clearing power it has, and uses many other weapons as well wherever necessary, from the humble knife and crossbow to even weapons of large scale destruction if he can get his hands on them, such as rocket launchers.
Abilities:
Superior Strength: Few creatures can surpass the raw physical might contained in a Nephilim's body, and they have the strength to lift objects many times their own weight if need be, smash through solid concrete walls, and take far more punishment than humans ever could without much discomfort or injury. They are more powerful than most other supernatural creatures, save deities and the highest ranking angels (and some exceptions, such as exceptionally powerful Alpha werewolves or vampires who have been around for six hundred years or more), and their strength is tied mostly to their anger: the more rage they feel and the fiercer the battle around them, the more muscle mass they pack on and the powerful they become, providing a theoretical limitless increase in strength. This strength also applies to their legs, allowing them to leap huge heights or distances if necessary.
Superhuman Endurance: Though still mortal, a Nephilim's body is physically tougher and much more resistant to damage than the body of a normal human. While they can still take damage through all the normal means and be killed by knives, bullets, shrapnel and physical blows, their bodies hold together far better than any other's. They can withstand great impacts, such as being hit by a heavy blunt object (a sledgehammer, for example), falling from a height of several stories, or being struck by an opponent of similar or superior physical strength, though it still causes pain and discomfort and occasionally stuns them for a while.
Longevity: Though still technically mortal, meaning they will eventually die of old age, Nephilim have a much slower aging process than humans -- unmolested and allowed to live, they can potentially live to be up to five hundred years old, though many of them will never make it that far considering how often they're hunted by their full-blooded kin.
Healing Factor: While not as powerful as a full-blooded angel's, a Nephilim possesses a powerful healing factor; lesser cuts and wounds can heal in a matter of moments if concentrated upon, although larger wounds can take much longer and will likely require rest and recuperation. The speed of regeneration is entirely dependant on both how severe the injury is, and their emotions: a Nephilim feeling intense rage in the heat of a fierce battle is a force to be reckoned with, and can heal at an astonishingly quicker rate than a calm one outside of combat. This has the side effect of an extremely accelerated metabolism as well, which allows a Nephilim to stay in near perfect physical shape with much less exercise than a human, as well as a dramatically increased appetite, which means a Nephilim requires a significantly greater amount of calories per day than humans to keep their bodies functioning in peak condition, giving rise to a penchant for fast food, mass-produced snack cakes, and other things saturated in calories and fats.
Sacred Blood: As beings of angelic descent, the blood that courses through a Nephilim's veins is blessed with the essence of the divine. Their blood is sacred, and is far too potent for a vampire or other bloodthirsty creature to drink from: at best it does the opposite effect than the one intended, inducing a drug-like stupor or weakening them exponentially, and in worse cases with lesser creatures it burns their vile, damned bodies from the inside out until nothing but ashes remain. Nephilim can also use their blood to heal humans if desired by transfusing them with it; while it cannot bring the deceased back to life, it greatly boosts the injured human's immune system, eradicates any traces of poison in the body, and pushes their own meager healing capabilities into overdrive. They also use their blood to mix it in weapons to use against supernatural beings; such as filling bullets with it or dripping a vial of it over a blade. The angelic blood also has the side effect of adding to their physical beauty, and it causes their features to seemingly glow when they are in the best of moods.
Personality: Understanding, funny, mischievous and slightly immature are the best ways to describe Dusty. He is a friendly, if a bit rough around the edges individual, and tends to treat everyone at least more or less politely, with some obvious exceptions considering how often his world deals with the supernatural, and he is quite slow to trust as a result. Anyone who manages to get close enough to him, however, will find a particularly loyal friend willing to sacrifice it all to keep them safe if need be. He has a very clear-cut, black and white view of things: one is either an ally, an enemy, or one that needs to stay away from him and his affairs, with no exceptions. He also possesses a decidedly flirty personality around a pretty face and can be quite good with the ladies, though occasionally he can be seen as a womanizer as a result.
He is an avid fan of classical rock and fast food, and most of the aliases he uses involve the names of famous rock musicians. He uses crude humor on occasion, pop culture references, and occasionally makes sexual innuendos, usually earning an elbow to the ribs from Josh in the process. He greatly prefers hunting the supernatural over the idea of settling down to a normal life, and the very idea of planting roots is painful for him to think about. Tough, dependable, unwilling to leave others behind and a great leader figure, he is an ideal individual when it comes to dealing with the supernatural, something he does quite well.
History:
The offspring of a hunter and an angel, Dusty's early life was anything but normal. Instead of being raised like a normal child, where the only worries were not going to bed hungry and going to school the next day, Dusty was raised like a warrior: almost as soon as he could walk, he was learning to fire guns, how to make salt barriers, and the quickest ways to dispatch a room filled with creatures if such a situation ever came about. He was kept blissfully ignorant of what he was throughout the early years of his life, and accompanied his father and uncle on many of their hunting trips as soon as he was of age to do so, earning valuable experience which he would then put back in as the next generation of the Hale "family business", a business that was decidedly unusual as it revolved around hunting the unseen, deadly creatures lurking away from polite society.
Eventually he would grow enough to hunt on his own, and went off to Pennsylvania to check into a string of gruesome murders taking place in one of the larger cities, Scranton, wherein the victims had been ripped nearly to shreds in what almost looked like an animal attack. While his father and uncle were certain it was a werewolf and that he'd be fine on his own, Dusty was still nevertheless apprehensive about the whole thing as he pulled into the city limits in the old 1965 Mustang that he and his father had bought and had restored (via stolen credit cards, naturally). It would be the first time he would be going in alone with no support, and he knew well how strong werewolves could be.
After faking being an FBI agent and going to view the corpses in the morgue, he had no doubt that a werewolf was behind the attacks: the bodies had quite literally been ripped apart, something that no normal human killer would ever have been capable of. Next, he went to the police department, and through the same means of identity theft got his hands on a list of potential suspects and talked to each one in turn, though none of them struck him as being particularly out of the ordinary, save one man who acted vaguely defensive when he had questioned him.
Out of leads and with a full moon on the rise that night, he returned to his hotel's parking lot to call his father and uncle and inform them both of his progress and his relative lack of information, then decided that perhaps it'd merely be best to drive aimlessly through the streets for a while, to see if he could somehow catch the suspect in the act.
When he had stopped at a stoplight and a woman had ran up to his car, beating on the window before a large, furry hand smashed her head through the glass, he knew he'd made the right choice, although he had still been too late to prevent another victim. He made a dive for his gun in the dashboard and leaped out of the car, irritated that his car had been made part of the abuse, and blasted the creature in the back with his oversized handgun right as it turned to run down an alleyway, sending it crashing through a pair of garbage cans before chasing off after it. What followed was a deadly game of cat and mouse through the alleyways of the downtown district of Scranton, eventually culminating with the werewolf ambushing him in one of them and his gun skidding away behind a pair of dumpsters.
Despite the werewolf's seemingly obvious advantange and superior physical strength, Dusty found, to his surprise, that not only was he able to fend it off, but actually overpower it -- and in short order the predator had become the prey as Dusty threw it about from one side of the alleyway to the other with enough force to crack the brick walls of the buildings around them, or crush the concrete of the street beneath them. After beating the werewolf quite literally into submission, he smashed the creature through the dumpsters, causing his gun to slide out from underneath it. Effortlessly, he reached down to grab the weapon, and right as the werewolf struggled to stand, a bullet exploded through its head and killed it.
Still in awe of how he had been able to pound the creature into the ground -- even as a child he had known he was physically strong, but not to such a degree as this -- he decided to leave right as he heard sirens off in the distance, running back to his car and peeling out just moments before the police arrived. Once a safe distance away from the scene, a gigantic double-bacon cheeseburger in his hand at the table of a fast food joint, he had called his father to inform him of his success -- and also to demand answers, as what he had done in the alleyway certainly wasn't natural. With a sigh, his father had proceeded to explain the other, more 'unique' side of his parentage: his mother had been an angel, making him a half-blooded son of God, and that apparently some of her strengths had been reincarnated in him. Though shocked by the revelation, Dusty shrugged it off as best he could and, taking a massive bite of the burger, decided that in the grand scheme of things it didn't matter so much. He had loved his mother, though he hadn't known her for long before she'd disappeared one day (or returned to Heaven, as the case apparently was), so what did it matter that she wasn't exactly human? His father ended the call hoping to see him soon, though not before giving the young man a stern warning: avoid contact with his angelic kin at all costs.
More years passed and Dusty had truly become worthy of the title of 'hunter', having at the very least gone after just about everything he could think of and exterminated them. It wasn't long before he found himself on the trail of werewolves once again, however: this time in a small town in South Carolina, one of the biggest packs he had ever heard of before that hadn't exactly been all that secretive about its feeding. While the police were baffled, he knew what the deal was, and with his destination in mind, he started driving once again.
When he finally arrived, he was immediately struck by how 'off' the inhabitants seemed to be: despite being dressed like one would expect in a small town of about 200 people, the wide, toothy grins they had and the bright, hungry eyes struck him as very odd indeed. The townspeople, though friendly, claimed that they'd lived in the town for years, and that none of them knew anything about the brutal slayings that had been going on throughout the area. Puzzled, he decided to stay in town for a while and observe them -- there was something seriously wrong about the town, but he couldn't put his finger on it. The hotel he decided to stay at wasn't really a hotel at all -- more of an older woman's home with several bedrooms that had been converted into guest rooms. Though he felt frustrated, he was sure the answers would come the longer he observed the town.
The answers came readily enough, when that night a pair of werewolves bashed down his door, sparking yet another fight for survival. Just as had been the case in Scranton, however, the werewolves, though strong, were of little match for his physical strength: he'd shot the first one in the head, ending it quickly, while the other one he'd sent flying down the stairs of the home before putting it down in a similar fashion and sending the corpse crashing through the wall of the home. As he stepped out into the darkness of the night, he locked eyes with a peculiar young man standing in the street, wielding a sword with a slew of dead werewolves laid around him in various states of disrepair. His question had been answered, the whole town was nothing but werewolves -- but remembering his father's warning and seeing the bright gold halo around this young man's head, the werewolves seemed a suddenly insignificant foe as he locked eyes with the thing his father had told him to avoid. The sword-wielding angel's body glowed with ethereal white light, revealing a huge set of shadowy wings in what seemed to be a challenge, and a cursory glance behind him revealed that Dusty possessed his own set, albeit more different and upright looking as opposed to the wingspan of an eagle.
Unmoving, he stared the angel down, silently clicking back the hammer of his magnum as the angel raised his blade. Before things could come to violence, however, the rest of the town's inhabitants arrived in their bestial forms, prompting the two to call a temporary truce in order to deal with the infestation. It was a long battle, but the werewolves proved to be no match for an angel's powers combined with the strength of a nephilim. In short order they were surrounded by the corpses of their foes, and Dusty immediately turned his attention back to the angel to deal with the next bit of nasty business, but he was startled when instead of resuming hostilities, the angel merely asked who he was and what he was doing there. Before he knew it he had been drawn into an easy conversation with the angel, who called himself 'Joshua', and they had talked for an entire hour, to the point of where the corpses around them had begun to stink. The angel had seemed particularly intrigued when Dusty had spoken of his occupation, and actually asked if he could come along for the ride. Naturally, Dusty was rather wary of the possibility of one of his kin coming with him, but it appeared as if all traces of former hostility in the angel had disappeared after the fight, so he hesitantly agreed, and the first smile he'd seen all day spread across the angel's cheeks.
Together the two burned the corpses they'd left behind, and then left the town just as quickly. Though still keeping his distance from Josh as much as possible, Dusty was eventually proven wrong as the angel seemed ready and willing to help with any task they set themselves to, and the distrust eroded quickly over the years: first to mutual acceptance, then to friendship, and then finally to the point of where they were almost like brothers, completely and utterly inseperable.
After hunting together for a very long time, they eventually caught the trail of an unusually large vampire coven operating out of New Orleans, and promptly drove to the city to destroy them. After doing so, they would later on find out that they likely missed one of them, as more would spring up almost a month or so afterwards. Though it took a while, they eventually found a certain pattern to the nests popping up, and almost caught their prey on one instance, though he always seemed to be a step ahead and kept moving on.
At the start of the RPG they have begun traveling to Chasm, Nevada, continuing to dog their prey wherever possible. Though they had come to the town for relatively simple reasons, eventually they would discover that Chasm held many secrets and dangers in the darkness that were anything but simple.