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World Info (WIP)
In 1350~, during the Black Death, the ability of those that weren't human to hide themselves was lost. Too many clusters of families and beings in the middle of all that death that were untouched. It was then that humanity came face to face with the fables they told around fires and in the comfort of inns with a minstrel singing were more than just tales. They were the lore of those around them. Among them. And so it was that humans learned to have to share the planet they were on.
They didn't always do so with grace. There were plenty of bumps along the way, one of the more memorable being Hitler's obsession with all things occult, trying to gather and catch all the mages and wizards he could to either cull the shifters he found to be unworthy of continuing, or to use them as his own secret police. There were rumors that he convinced a vampire to turn him, or a shifter to do so. There were also rumors that he was finally eaten by a monster bigger than himself.
It's been found that in the world with humans, there are also mages, wizards, witches (those humans that are often born into bloodlines of magic and the ability to use it and master it with training), fae (all things that live in fairyland and sometimes creep into the human world to breed or escape their homeland, vampires (the undead that cannot abide daylight, burn from silver, and feed off the living), and weres (all forms of humans that can change partially or fully into their other self). There are three kinds of shapeshifters. Those who are cursed by a fae or mage or some magical means that bestows a curse of the moon upon a body. They are truly the Cursed, unable to control their changes, having to change on a full moon, unable to control the beast they turn into. Many of them wind up committing suicide, or being locked up for the rest of their lives out of fear of the havoc they can cause if they left loose. They are usually not fully changed; monstrous exaggerations of whatever creature they're cursed to share a soul with. The second kind are the ones that are infected. By either a bite or scratch, but it varies by species type. Wolves and Rats are the most contagious, often needing only a bite or two or a few deep scratches to pass on the virus. There are vaccinations, but they're only effective fifty percent of the time, and that rate drops the longer a person goes between infection and their first full moon. The last are the more common type, and they're why shifters aren't hunted down on sight. The ones born to it. It follows from parent to child. In the instance of mixed pairings, there's generally a half chance it will follow either parent, though human female partners generally have a harder time carrying a shifter child to full term. With a shifter mother with mixed parties, it could wind up as either parent. It's not a common occurrence since most creatures tend to prefer to mate within their own species. Fucking, however, crosses all lines.
All shifters are allergic to silver. All shifters have a biological pull to shift on a full moon, but born shifters can change whenever they like. No need for it to be a full moon. No need for it to be night. Multiple changes can drain them and they need to eat and sleep to regain the energy they burn from that much of their metabolism being pushed. Among the larger groups that like to live in packs, like the rats and wolves, there is a clear power dynamic. The strongest of each group becomes the de facto leader, each group having their own name for their leader. A strong and healthy pack has a mated pair to head them, and they're the ones that are responsible for the behaviors of their packmates. For those that don't live in packs and branch out to solo family units, there's no way to figure out a power dynamic unless they're put in a situation to figure out whose beast will come out on top. Some of those situations wind up with a body, but most of the born shifters have figured out that they fit in better with the human population if they don't murder each other all the time. Still, even with that knowledge, the way shifters act among each other without humans can seem barbaric. Perhaps it is, but they aren't human, and never were, so they best of them are at peace with their other half and embrace their wilder side comfortably.
Fast forward to the present day:
Elijah Kendal was an ex-Marine (though any Marine would tell you that you were always a Marine), leaving the corps after twelve years. Unlike the usual service of four years active and four years in IRR, shifters who joined often found themselves pulling the full eight years as active duty. He'd done that, and then an extra four. 'Specialized skills', the stripes and stars called them. Canon fodder was what Elijah corrected it to in the barracks. As a weremink, the Marines had been the obvious choice for him. He was suited to land and aquatic combat, and most of his unit were other shifters that suited the same; a bear, one wolf, a few otters, a crocodile, seven rats, and two seals, though the latter two were selkies, not true shifters. He was part of the non-human branch that every arm of every military force had. He'd been eager to prove himself when he'd taken off his graduation cap and packed a duffel, giving his dad a quiet goodbye and heading off to prove that he was something more than 'just a furry little shit from Lafayette'. During the chest bumping and dynamic settling in his squad, he found himself comfortably in the second's spot. The croc shifter surprised everyone by having the strongest alpha type vibe, and the rest of them settled into their spot under him comfortably. After that was sorted out, the unit worked remarkably smoothly, and they were a favored unit to deploy for missions.
After his time was done, he went home and tried to slip back into civilian life again, but the predator in him had been awoken, and he went from job to job to try to fit in. Until he did a friend a favor and wound up finding his calling. Bounty hunting. Not just any bounty hunting. The kind that was for his kind. The shifters that scared the shit out of humans. The ones that ate the forbidden flesh of mankind. The genuine dangers that were lurking in the places he'd taken an oath to protect. Foreign and domestic. Well, the domestic creatures now had one of their own on their asses when they skipped a bond or evaded arrest. And he was good at his job. It satisfied that need to hunt without him worrying about lashing out at those around him.
Minks were stealthy, sneaky little hunters, and he was no different. He could be patient, outwait someone that knew he was on their tail, and still wind up pinning them down with a well placed silver shot to the knee or a shifted bite to the back of the neck. Either way, he'd been slowly making a name for himself since he'd been back, and 'Varmint Hunters' was what he hunted under. He'd found it amusing that weasels and other mustelids were often referred to as varmints, and now the varmint was hunting other varmints and ne'er do wells. He didn't limit himself to just shifters, but he specialized in them. He also would extend that to magic users and vampires that were eluding human officials.
Which is what he was doing to this day; occasionally having to cross state lines to track a target, but once he had one in his sight, he was relentless in both his pursuit and capture. Occasionally he teamed up with other shifters, or the occasional mage, and bounty hunters he'd learned to trust and who called him in on their hard catches, but for the most part, he preferred to do so alone.
They didn't always do so with grace. There were plenty of bumps along the way, one of the more memorable being Hitler's obsession with all things occult, trying to gather and catch all the mages and wizards he could to either cull the shifters he found to be unworthy of continuing, or to use them as his own secret police. There were rumors that he convinced a vampire to turn him, or a shifter to do so. There were also rumors that he was finally eaten by a monster bigger than himself.
It's been found that in the world with humans, there are also mages, wizards, witches (those humans that are often born into bloodlines of magic and the ability to use it and master it with training), fae (all things that live in fairyland and sometimes creep into the human world to breed or escape their homeland, vampires (the undead that cannot abide daylight, burn from silver, and feed off the living), and weres (all forms of humans that can change partially or fully into their other self). There are three kinds of shapeshifters. Those who are cursed by a fae or mage or some magical means that bestows a curse of the moon upon a body. They are truly the Cursed, unable to control their changes, having to change on a full moon, unable to control the beast they turn into. Many of them wind up committing suicide, or being locked up for the rest of their lives out of fear of the havoc they can cause if they left loose. They are usually not fully changed; monstrous exaggerations of whatever creature they're cursed to share a soul with. The second kind are the ones that are infected. By either a bite or scratch, but it varies by species type. Wolves and Rats are the most contagious, often needing only a bite or two or a few deep scratches to pass on the virus. There are vaccinations, but they're only effective fifty percent of the time, and that rate drops the longer a person goes between infection and their first full moon. The last are the more common type, and they're why shifters aren't hunted down on sight. The ones born to it. It follows from parent to child. In the instance of mixed pairings, there's generally a half chance it will follow either parent, though human female partners generally have a harder time carrying a shifter child to full term. With a shifter mother with mixed parties, it could wind up as either parent. It's not a common occurrence since most creatures tend to prefer to mate within their own species. Fucking, however, crosses all lines.
All shifters are allergic to silver. All shifters have a biological pull to shift on a full moon, but born shifters can change whenever they like. No need for it to be a full moon. No need for it to be night. Multiple changes can drain them and they need to eat and sleep to regain the energy they burn from that much of their metabolism being pushed. Among the larger groups that like to live in packs, like the rats and wolves, there is a clear power dynamic. The strongest of each group becomes the de facto leader, each group having their own name for their leader. A strong and healthy pack has a mated pair to head them, and they're the ones that are responsible for the behaviors of their packmates. For those that don't live in packs and branch out to solo family units, there's no way to figure out a power dynamic unless they're put in a situation to figure out whose beast will come out on top. Some of those situations wind up with a body, but most of the born shifters have figured out that they fit in better with the human population if they don't murder each other all the time. Still, even with that knowledge, the way shifters act among each other without humans can seem barbaric. Perhaps it is, but they aren't human, and never were, so they best of them are at peace with their other half and embrace their wilder side comfortably.
Fast forward to the present day:
Elijah Kendal was an ex-Marine (though any Marine would tell you that you were always a Marine), leaving the corps after twelve years. Unlike the usual service of four years active and four years in IRR, shifters who joined often found themselves pulling the full eight years as active duty. He'd done that, and then an extra four. 'Specialized skills', the stripes and stars called them. Canon fodder was what Elijah corrected it to in the barracks. As a weremink, the Marines had been the obvious choice for him. He was suited to land and aquatic combat, and most of his unit were other shifters that suited the same; a bear, one wolf, a few otters, a crocodile, seven rats, and two seals, though the latter two were selkies, not true shifters. He was part of the non-human branch that every arm of every military force had. He'd been eager to prove himself when he'd taken off his graduation cap and packed a duffel, giving his dad a quiet goodbye and heading off to prove that he was something more than 'just a furry little shit from Lafayette'. During the chest bumping and dynamic settling in his squad, he found himself comfortably in the second's spot. The croc shifter surprised everyone by having the strongest alpha type vibe, and the rest of them settled into their spot under him comfortably. After that was sorted out, the unit worked remarkably smoothly, and they were a favored unit to deploy for missions.
After his time was done, he went home and tried to slip back into civilian life again, but the predator in him had been awoken, and he went from job to job to try to fit in. Until he did a friend a favor and wound up finding his calling. Bounty hunting. Not just any bounty hunting. The kind that was for his kind. The shifters that scared the shit out of humans. The ones that ate the forbidden flesh of mankind. The genuine dangers that were lurking in the places he'd taken an oath to protect. Foreign and domestic. Well, the domestic creatures now had one of their own on their asses when they skipped a bond or evaded arrest. And he was good at his job. It satisfied that need to hunt without him worrying about lashing out at those around him.
Minks were stealthy, sneaky little hunters, and he was no different. He could be patient, outwait someone that knew he was on their tail, and still wind up pinning them down with a well placed silver shot to the knee or a shifted bite to the back of the neck. Either way, he'd been slowly making a name for himself since he'd been back, and 'Varmint Hunters' was what he hunted under. He'd found it amusing that weasels and other mustelids were often referred to as varmints, and now the varmint was hunting other varmints and ne'er do wells. He didn't limit himself to just shifters, but he specialized in them. He also would extend that to magic users and vampires that were eluding human officials.
Which is what he was doing to this day; occasionally having to cross state lines to track a target, but once he had one in his sight, he was relentless in both his pursuit and capture. Occasionally he teamed up with other shifters, or the occasional mage, and bounty hunters he'd learned to trust and who called him in on their hard catches, but for the most part, he preferred to do so alone.