Isaiah (Strife) Wallace
Isaiah Wallace was born in Chicago to a middleclass family. His dad was a well respected cop, and his mom stayed at home and took care of him and his brothers. From a young age Isaiah had trouble at school, often letting his mind wander or getting into fights. Because he got into fights his parents decided to put him into a boxing gym when he was eleven to try and teach him some honor and respect, it worked, and added a much needed balance to Isaiah's life. Isaiah was doing well in school and was a straight A student and had a few colleges looking at him, but his grades began to slip when his father died of a heart attack. Often times he would skip school and go and hang out down at the station, and when his dads friends would tell him to go back, he would find himself wondering the streets and making friends with the homeless crowd. Isaiah kind of kept a balance this way he was never one to push the limits of any aspect of his life and throw it off course.
Isaiah finally got back into school and began to study again, but that was after he had befriended a few of the kinds who lived on the streets of Chicago. He liked one especially, an older gentleman named Joe who played the guitar on one of the street corners. Isaiah would often times tell him that he was good enough to start his own band, but Joe would simply tell him that “living in the lime light is a young mans game.” Isaiah would often visit Joe after checking in at the station after school, and Joe began to teach Isaiah how to play the guitar. There was a lot of talent down in the alleys and homeless shelters of Chicago, from poets to painters it was almost a young aspiring artists dream except for the fact that they were all living on the street.
When Isaiah was a senior in high school he had a big tournament with his local gym. His coach put even more expectation on him than normal because for him to win would be a huge honor for the gym. Isaiah trained rigorously from his diet to daily meditation to try and keep focused on what was to come. The night of the tournament Isaiah went down to Joe’s corner and asked him to come and watch him compete. Joe agreed and came to the fight. It was a tough fight and Isaiah made it all the way to the final bout. The excitement was really starting to get to Joe and he had never been happier, but unfortunately it was to much for the old man. All the excitement mixed with years of not being in good health caught up to him and right there in the middle of the match Joe had a massive heart attack. Isaiah and his mom followed the ambulance Joe was in to the hospital but it was to late, the old man passed away. At Joe’s funeral in which only Isaiah and his mother attended Isaiah decided that he would honor both his father and Joe by becoming a private investigator in order to help people like Joe who may not have a lot of money, and at the same time sort of follow in his father’s foot steps.
Years passed and Isaiah graduated with high honors and instead of going to college went right into the academy. He passed with flying colors and quickly started to help some of the more unfortunate people of Chicago. Keeping a low profile and using his contacts in both the CPD and the streets he was very successful. He still found himself jamming with some of the homeless and hanging out with the artists in the shelter. It was about this time that a few individuals had started to follow him around, and of course he noticed this but wouldn’t make waves if they didn’t. Weird things started to happen after that. Animals in the parks would run and hide from him, dogs would howl and bark or put their tail between their legs and piss right where they were standing. Isaiah found himself loosing track of time and a walk of five miles only took him five minuets. He found himself loosing his temper more and more often, something he was prone to as a child and some spots in his teens but now he had actually hit someone for accidently bumping into him. His dreams were filled with terrifying visions or rage and blood. And there was that incident that happened where he was attacked by some kind of animal, but never really made out what it was. Then it all made sense and came together, the reason he was feeling so different made perfect sense, the night of the FIRST CHANGE.
They had been watching him for some time and he knew it but paid no attention, and on his way home from work one time he saw them again, two individual’s one man and one woman .The man was very large and taller than he was standing probably five inches above his own six foot height. He looked different tonight however, his face was contorted in almost an animalistic fashion and the woman that was always at his side had slipped away. He tried to ignore them his heart starting to race, and that’s when he heard the howl. A piercing call into the night came from a dark ally and out of it a large brown wolf stepped out from it’s shadow and joined the mans side. The tall man chuckled and Isaiah began to run, only to be chased by the man and his wolf. He turned down an ally to try and loose them but was actually blind sided by the big man who came out of no where and ran into him. He felt like he had run into a brick wall and scrambling to his feet he tried to run in the opposite direction only to be cut off by the wolf. He was stuck in this ally with these two and had no where to turn. His eyes went wide and the bite on his shoulder from the previous week by some kind of animal began to throb. They came closer and he sank against the cement wall of the ally the fear slowly began to fade and was replaced by something that even shocked him. It was anger! He began to grind his teeth so much that his gums bleed and he punched the gravel ground with his fist as his vision became blurred and red. The attackers backed up as Isaiah looked up at the glowing full moon. His skin felt as if it was on fire and he heard the sounds of primal drums thundering through his skull. His heart raced faster than it ever had and threatened to explode out of his chest as he tasted something in his mouth. Something pure and untainted, older than all of humanity itself, something powerful and terrifying and he wanted more! RAGE! His blood boiled and his skin ripped open, his clothes being torn to shreds and bones cracked and split. His teeth swelled and grew into sharp k-9’s as he let something pure and primal escape his throat, a HOWL echoed through the night sky as he continued to change, going from man to wolf back and forth peace by peace trying to find a balance, finally the Gauru form, finding a perfect balance of spirit and man. He stretched and let out a low threatening growl. This is what he was made for, to be a primal force, a voice, and enforcer of justice. Slowly rising to his feet the cool night air kissing his hot skin he had never before felt so alive, and had he never before felt such an urge to rid himself of such pent up frustration and anger, this new found rage, and thats when he heard it, the all to familiar yet foreign voice of Sarah, "Isaiah?". Sarah was one of the girls who Isaiah helped out from the homeless shelter. She had been beaten near death by her pimp and was only seventeen years old at the time. Isaiah had picked up her case and helped her bring that son of a bitch to justice without ever charging her anything, and then also got her a job as a waitress down at one of the local restaurants, unfortunately for her, her way back to the shelter was through the park. She had stumbled upon the group and heard and seen Isaiah's face, a face she had never seen before, one of fear just before his change. She witnessed the change but was to afraid to even move, and now she stood with her back to this monster who at one point was her friend and prayed to God that he would still remember her. He didn't. On the news the next day reports would come in of a local waitress who had been ripped apart by some wild animal. Isaiah was the one who went to "investigate" the crime scene. That face, the face of an innocent girl still haunts him to this day, he just tells himself that he made it quick, in the hopes of easing the knife that he dug into his own heart. He choose the Blood Talon Tribe to associate himself with, and took up the name Strife to remind himself of the constant inner conflict that he deals with daily, and the outside conflict that these assholes who think they own the streets will deal with. He looks for a pack, although rumors of a pack being formed amongst the homeless has reached his ears, something he is defiantly going to be looking into.
- coming soon
Full Name: Isaiah (Strife) Wallace
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Gray
Weight: 213 lbs.
Birth Place: Chicago, Illinois
Status: Chicago Private Investigator
Pack: Titans Alpha
"If I was asked to come up with a definition for a 'good man'... I would merely point to Strife. I can not thank him enough for all he's done for me." - Brooke Languish, Claimed Wolf-blood
"The Bastard has surpassed me in so many ways in the short time I've know him. He's a rival, a brother, and a great friend. Cheers to you Strife." - Tyler Blair, A young/rash packmate
" I like this guy. He keeps his head better than most of the others, and he's willing to put his life on the line for his pack. Wish I could find me a full-moon like him. That being said he's a bit rash. It's a mat, with conclusions on it. And you jump to them. *Rolls eyes*" - Dylan OConnor alpha of the Hooligans
"Motherfucking KILL STEALER." - Stephanie Hagan Unhinged Hound and Succubus of the Movement
"Strife is reliable, resourceful and intelligent when he puts his mind to it. But untrained, lacking control and finesse. He'll learn, or fall." - Brody
"He is nice, seems to keep an eye on me, I am glad he is around to save mine or Judas's Ass when he is about." - Molli Richardson