Character’s Name: Kyle Gorman
Character’s Age: 29
Character’s Face Claim: Kevin Durand
Character’s Species: Werewolf
Dominant or Slave: slave
Character’s Sexuality: opportunistic…? He doesn’t really have a preference, he’s equal opportunity. We’ll say functionally bi.
Kinks: oral (g&r), anal (g&r), orgasm denial, restraints, pain (r), exhibitionism (strangers), voyeurism (anyone, tbh), biting (g&r)
Hard Limits: cages/confined spaces, pain (g), double penetration, feces/urine/vomit (this one’s the mun’s so really really hard no)
Secret: killed a more senior ranking wolf in his pack because he lost his temper

Character’s Personality: Kyle is the kind of guy who, everything else aside, means well. He’s a follower, always has been, content to leave the leadership role to more qualified people; he trusts that the people around him are, generally speaking, decent folks, that they’ll do the right thing with the power they have and won’t take advantage. He knows, practically, that it’s a bit of an unreasonable expectation, particularly given the dynamics at work on the Island, but it doesn’t stop him from trying to uphold it anyway, because someone has to. He prides himself on being level-headed, on keeping an even keel in just about every situation, because he’s all too aware of what he’s capable of, of what happens when he doesn’t; he’s got a bit of a habit of losing his temper from time to time, of going into something of a berzerker rage when pushed too far for too long, devolving into the animal alone only in a human suit and taking it out on whatever and whoever is nearby with only a hazy space of memory once it wears off, and it’s a continued source of regret and guilt considering it’s what put him in the position he’s in right now. So he compensates the rest of the time by striving towards an almost zenlike state, letting the shit that happens around him roll off his back. He’s loyal to a fault, eager to please those in a higher position than him because after a childhood of being put in his place by his older siblings he’s internalized the pack mentality; he’s less, good for what he can do but not much else, not meant for anything better, so he doesn’t reach any higher, and his tenure as a slave and the circumstances that led him there have only reinforced the habit. His position is at the feet of others, his ultimate worth is only the value others place on him, and he’ll do what he can to make himself worth the price, even if it’s at his own expense. He likes being useful, and honestly, deep down he believes he deserves where he is right now. It’s better than being dead, for sure.
Three Positive Character Personality Traits: loyal, hard-working, even-tempered (mostly)
Three Negative Character Personality Traits: stubborn, complacent, aggressive (sometimes)

Character’s Bio: Kyle is a wolf who never aspired particularly high; the youngest of his siblings, he was used to being seen as the runt, the tagalong, the weak link, at least until he started growing. He quickly outstripped the rest of his siblings once puberty hit, but the reputation stuck all the same, ingrained deeply enough that it still shaped his interactions even after it stopped, strictly speaking, being true, and he was relegated to second tier; a good body to have on your side, better ally than enemy, but not really a threat in his own right. He was happy there, mostly; he didn’t have the stomach for the power games, didn’t have a taste for leadership, but he was big, and he could scrap, so if that was all they really wanted him for he figured it was better than nothing. Could always be worse, and it made him feel useful, and that was mostly good enough for him.

He skated on that for several years; the wolf you called if you had a dispute, the wolf you called if you needed to intimidate somebody, and he took to it like a fish to water, but was always careful to keep it separate, only grew more even-tempered when he wasn’t working. He figured it was important; you can’t let work spill over, and it wasn’t like he was really a violent person by nature, he would have much preferred he not be needed that way but some people just had to be Enlightened by certain things. Sometimes people needed to be scared into doing what they should be doing, following through on their promises. Sometimes people had to be hurt so they would remember later. By the time he ended up a slave, years later, it wasn’t really that big a jump to make, he’d already made a career out of being someone else’s tool, it was only a difference in motivation.

Except the good thing he had going wouldn’t last forever.

The longer he made a living off of violence, the easier it got. It wasn’t that he developed a taste for it, exactly, but he could justify it easier, sort out in his head the reasons it was okay. Why it was needed. He tried to be a pacifist the best he could when he wasn’t working, and mostly succeeded — he didn’t WANT to hurt anyone, really he didn’t, if they didn’t break contracts or rules he wouldn’t have to get involved at all, and he always felt bad about how easily they broke — but the job and the lifestyle took its toll. He was good about it for the most part, kept it tamped down, let the little things go, and a fair share of the big things too, but sometimes, when pushed long enough and hard enough, it got loose. Exploded out of him like a pressurized tank broken open, the full force directed towards whoever was closest, regardless of whether it was justified or not, left to rage until it burned itself out again.

It might have been okay if he could always plan for it, if things worked out to anticipate, contain, but life is rarely ideal, and one day it didn’t. Wasn’t. He couldn’t have said what the exact trigger was, but at the end he was left in the middle of the mess, knuckles sore and bleeding, a handful of bruised and battered bodies sprawled across the room, both wolf and human. In the end, there were only two casualties, one of each, but the carnage was big enough, serious enough, to warrant extreme measures, and never mind that he hadn’t meant to. The aftermath threatened a carefully maintained alliance, and they couldn’t just let it go. So they kicked him out of the pack, sold him to their brethren across the water and claimed it was a mercy; they could have put him to death for it, blood paid for blood, but they didn’t, and he was supposed to be content with that.

It took them three years to break him, but he gets it now, mostly. Knows his place, or near enough, and while he may not be perfect, he tries.
He knows how to be somebody else’s tool, it’s just a matter of learning the new set of rules.