Un couloir étroit, aux murs, pendait des rangées sur des rangées de portraits de figures nobles à travers les âges, dont la plupart ressemblaient suspectement au même homme dans des vêtements de différentes époques dans le temps, échoua au bruit de pieds nus marchant contre un sol en marbre propre. Un homme qui avait l'air d'être sorti de la poubelle était escorté par quatre hommes en costumes fraîchement pressés et des styles identiques de cheveux coupés bas dans le hall, bien qu'ils semblaient plus que réticents à être près de l'homme sans le toucher du tout. L'homme qui était si mal habillé, si ce mot pouvait être utilisé du tout, portait une paire de shorts de cargaison vert foncé avec plusieurs trous de brûlure dans l'une des jambes, on pouvait deviner qu'ils étaient des trous de balle, et un T-shirt noir sans manches qui avait ce qui ne pouvait être que des taches de sang autour du collier. Les longs cheveux foncés de l'homme sont accrochés à son épaule, couvrant légèrement son visage, en nœuds enchevêtrés comme s'ils n'avaient pas été peignés depuis des semaines. Le fond de ses pieds nus était noir de terrain de ce qui ne pouvait être que des jours de ne pas laver ou porter de chaussures. Les ongles de l'homme étaient d'une couleur presque jaune avec de la graisse sous chacun, mais ce qui était le plus horrible à leur sujet était que chacun était renversé avec des points aiguisés, mais la partie la plus monstrueuse de l'apparence de l'homme devait être ses yeux. Ils étaient entourés d'anneaux sombres comme s'il n'avait pas dormi depuis des mois, son front était bas dans un schowl presque permanent, ses pupilles étaient minces fentes, et puis il y avait la couleur lui-même, un jaune éclatant qui agitait toute allusion que l'homme était normal. Le petit groupe a atteint une porte au bout du couloir et l'un des hommes qui menait l'homme à l'air bizarre l'a frappé assez rapidement, sans doute voulant se débarrasser de son devoir de garde, avant de l'ouvrir et d'ouvrir sa salle. Une voix très professionnelle a accueilli l'homme avec la simple phrase "Mister Haythorn, s'il vous plaît asseyez-vous..." 
Lloyd a pris place, bien qu'il ait donné à James un éternuement avec un très faible grognement inhumain comme il l'a fait. Lloyd savait déjà qu'il avait été appelé à faire une sorte de mission pour rattraper ses transgressions passées, mais il n'était toujours pas content d'avoir à travailler avec une équipe puis encore une fois il n'aimait pas être avec qui que ce soit. Il bougea son regard autour de la pièce en tenant compte de chacun dans chaque personne là-bas, comme un prédateur qui choisit la proie du prix. Son éternuement semblait grandir lorsqu'il aperçut le Toreador, il n'a jamais aimé les soi-disant "artistes" du Kindred, mais cela apaisait en comparaison pour sa disette pour le Venture. Il continua à scanner la pièce en ne prenant pas le Brujah, il semblait être quelque chose de tolérable. C'est quand il a posé les yeux sur la fille dans le coin que Lloyd a pensé qu'il pourrait y avoir quelqu'un dans ce petit groupe qui ne lui ferait pas vouloir lui arracher la gorge. Lloyd, comme beaucoup de Gangrel, préférait les Malkavians à la plupart des clans, surtout au fait qu'ils semblaient toujours avoir un peu d'honnêteté à leurs dictons fous. Lloyd tourna son attention vers le Venture qui semblait avoir fini avec son interminable discours. Il n'a pas vu un mot mais il a offert un peu de grognement, plus de grognement, pour montrer qu'il comprenait le plan bien qu'il détestait l'insouciance de toute cette affaire.
Name:  Lloyd Haythorn
 Apparent Age:  22 (really is 45)
 Gender:  Male
 Clan:  Gangrel
 Loyalty:  Like most Gangrel Lloyd is fiercely independent and strives to be on his own, not really caring of the debates between the Camarilla and the Anarchs.
 Appearance:  Lloyd has messy ash black hair that falls just below his shoulders, thick eye brows and a soul strip on his chin. He stands at 6'4 in height, though he finds himself crouching on all fours quite often like most Gangrel. Lloyd has a fit body build and has incredibly pale skin like most Kindred. Both of his upper arms have the tribal tattoo of a panther chasing it's tail on them, his back having a panther pouncing tattooed on it. Lloyd would never wear clothes if that was an option but as is he makes use of old T-shirts and jeans shorts he manages to find, though trying to get shoes on the man is a task only Cain himself could accomplish. What sets Lloyd apart from other Cainites in the area of looks is his animalistic features, a trait common to Gangrel who had frenzied. His eyes are a bright yellow color with his pupils being feline like slits and each of his teeth are sharpened points, his main fangs being longer than the others. His back has a thick black pelt of fur running down it's center. His fingers and toes are pointed with sharp claws, which grow when he taps into the beast.
  
 When Lloyd taps into his inner beast his for shifts into that of a panther like monster.
  
(Please ignore the jewelry) 
 Behavior:  Lloyd on the surface is what you'd expect to see from your stereotypical Gangrel, the lone savage that would not hesitate to rip apart a kine or kindred that entered his territory with out permission, and in all honesty that is who he truly is at heart. He takes pride in his clan but only to the point that if it is the choice of his unlife or the name sake of his clan he'd choose his own secretary each time. He, like most Gangrel, holds great value of the art of the spoken word, often telling stories of his past exploits to the kindred that he deems worthy, and has respect in those who can regale him in a good tale, provided they can back up their words. Lloyd is close to his beast even by the standards of the Gangrel, not only respecting it but openly clamming a form of love for it, and would spend every hour of everyday in his Protean form if he could, which he almost archived. If asked Lloyd wouldn't hesitate to admit that he prefers the company of beasts over that of a kindred, which has lead to rumors of how far does his animal love goes.
 Background:  While Lloyd was alive he was a loner, having no real human interaction besides with his abusive parents who brought him into the world with no means to raise him. He was never what you'd consider extraordinary when he was among the living, not having the brains or the brawns to leave a impact on anyone, though their was one skill that he did excel at one thing he found true solace in, hunting. He was nine when he was exposed to the act of tracking and killing one's prey when he went on a hunting trip with his father, it undoubtedly being the only kind act the drunkard ever showed the boy, and quickly became fascinated with the art. Lloyd practiced his hunting skills in the forest his family's hovel of a house was built by. He'd sneak out during his parents drunken stupors and track everything from raccoons to deer that wandered the woods. He didn't find the pleasure in the kill like most, but rather the hunt it self, the thought of his prey slipping away gave him a type of high that he never experienced. Lloyd to came to the realization that he would be better off away from the poor excuses of parents he had and fending for himself, so at the ripe age of eighteen he abandoned his life and set forth on what would be a better life. Lloyd settled in what was the outskirts of L.A and for four years hunted the forests for his food, only ever venturing into the city for the supplies he couldn't provide himself, little did he know he was being watched by a whole different kind of hunter.
It was a dark rainy night and Lloyd was returning to his shack from the day's hunting when he was killed. He entered his makeshift home to be greeted by the sight of a young woman sitting on his bed. She couldn't of been a day over twenty and she looked like she had been wandering the woods for days, being covered from head to toe in layers of mud and her hair being tangled into knots, the thing that unnerved Lloyd was the aura she seemed to give off, something that told Lloyd she was something more than human. There wasn't much time for Lloyd to be in shock before the woman pounced on him and placed the kiss that all Kindred know so well. He awoke to a empty room and the words "Stay out of the light." carved into his wall by what he assumed to be claws. So began the unlife of Lloyd.
Lloyd's first nights were like all new Gangrel's, confusing, tough, and nearly unsurvivable. He spent a complete month unaware that he was a vampire, surviving on the pure instinct of the beast alone. Luckily though Lloyd was one of the few Gangrel that lasted long enough for his sire to return and begin his training and introduction into vampiric society. The training of a Gangrel has always been rather difficult for two main reasons, the first being the desire of the sire wanting their childe to learn on their own and the second being the need for the childe to unlock the primal part of their mind they had fought against all their living days. But Lloyd had found tapping into his beast rather easy, even enjoyable, to the surprise of his sire. He spent little under a year with his sire before she deemed him worthy to leave and make his own way in his unlife.
Lloyd spent two decades hunting the kine of L.A and retreating back to the forest during the day were he'd manage to evade the local Garou with relative ease. It wasn't until he turned thirty-five that Lloyd went through the phase all Gangrel are destined to go through, the Red Surrender. This phase in the Gangrel's unlife is where the calling of the beast the strongest. Though he'd be hard press to admit it he openly accepted it's call and succumbed to the beast with ease. To say that Lloyd went into a frenzy would be like saying a kindred would get a bad sunburn if they went out during the day. He went of a three month rampage across the city, attacking everything from the lone wander in the streets to groups of campers in the woods. Lloyd was the origin to the local myth "The L.A Demon" that made the headlines. His path of destruction didn't stop until he slaughtered the people of a formal party that was being held in the woods near were he was sleeping that night, unknown to him there was a local Camarilla official in attendance of the party. It was the final death of the official that turned the Camarilla onto Lloyd's trail and stopped him. They gave him a choice, face his final death or join some sort of team and wash away his violations. Needless to say Lloyd's unlife is now in the hands of a group of kindred he doesn't know, wish him luck.
 Training and general talents:  Lloyd is a deadly force in close quarters, mainly do to his claws which are comparable to a Garou's. If he must use a weapon though he prefers hunting knives, he always keeps one strapped to his right leg, for their quick and messy effects. He is pretty skilled with a rifle from his hunting days but he'd prefer to get up close and personal whenever possible. Lloyd had no social skills even before he was dead, so no one should be expecting him to woo or persuade anyone. Though his less than human features seem to unnerve some allowing him to  intimidate  others. His years of hunting gave him great investigation skill, being able to track almost anyone. Lloyd whole heartily hate computers, he'd wouldn't even carry a cell phone if he could get away with it, and if they cause him trouble he wouldn't think twice about smashing one. He isn't to skilled with lock picking, he'd rather just bust down a door. He is rather stealthy from his hunting experience, being able to go completely silent when needed. Like all Kindred his true skill lies with his disciplines, namely his Protean and Animalism. Lloyd is able to commune with almost all the animals he encounters, though if they listen to him is a different thing all together. He his able to shift into his Protean form at will but it is almost like a frenzy like state, being difficult to remain in control. Lloyd is able to sleep under the ground like some Gangrel during the day, but once he is under he doesn't know what's happening around him. He has only ever done it once before but he managed to calm another vampire's frenzied beast.