Jacob Brandon Dillon

A handsome man, quiet and reserve, but completely confidant in himself.


Jacob is a little above average height, maintains an athletic build, and is considered to be a rather attractive man with dark hair and dark eyes. He can normally be found wearing a dark suit, tailored, with a bright tie. Even in casual clothes, Jacob prefers dress pants and a polo shirt, or button up shirt. Seemingly always clean and unfazed, Jacob exudes confidence, which some people rightly read as him being an insensitive prick. In all, one looks at Jacob and sees at least a police detective, if not a federal agent.

In his wolf form he looks like a large powerful gray wolf.



I was born into a family of police officers. My grandfather had reportedly been a cop, but took off shortly after my grandmother got pregnant. I guess my dad wanted to understand his father in some small way, and was driven to become a cop. He met and married my mother shortly after he made homicide detective. My mother was a secritary and dispatcher at the precinct my father Joe got transferred to for his promotion. My sister came along shortly after, followed by me.

Growing up, with my dad working all the horrible cases in Denver, I didn’t see him much. I adored my father, worshiped him like no other. He was a quiet man, even when angry, his voice was soft, one you forced yourself to listen to.

I always knew I wanted to be in law enforcement. I wanted to be like my dad. I knew my father was a hero. Why else would he spend so much time away from me? He had to be making a huge difference in the world, he had to be saving lives, because he sacrificed so much to do it.

As I got older, I saw cracks in the old man’s armor. Things I would normally choose not to see or member, even though I did. He drank heavily, he ran around on my mother, he never hit her, or spoke meanly to her, but he clearly had his attention elsewhere. I was 14 when I realized I resented him.

Mom seemed so unhappy, and he seemed unchanged. If she could get away from him, I knew she would be happier. Yet, it remained unchanged, I knew my only out was college.

For having a perfectly normal upbringing, with parents who I know loved me, I couldn’t wait to get away from their uncomfortableness with each other. So I picked a school as far away as I could, I went to NYU. I studied Criminal Law, and upon graduation was accepted into the F.B.I. Training program.

I told my father they came recruiting me, but in truth, I sought them out. I still wanted to make a diffence, but I wanted to hurt my father, and choosing to become a fed achieved that. He saw through my bullshit, I’ve never been a good liar, and a rift opened between us.

I kept tabs on my family through my sister Jackie, who had gotten married shortly after college, and by the time I was sworn in as a Special Agent, she had her first child.

I received the Director’s Leadership Award, a proud, and bittersweet moment for me, as my parents did not attend the ceremony.

I was assigned to the Denver area, and partnered with Special Agent Kenneth Walters. We remained partners for fifteen years, working bank robberies, kidnappings, hunting serial killers, and dealing with extremist groups. Together we put away a lot of bad people.

During those years, I spoke little to my father. We would meet for holidays, as best I could, and I spent a lot of my spare time visiting with Jackie and her constantly growing family. I attended my father’s retirement from the force in 2000. It was one of the last times we spent any time together. After September 11th, things got real busy at work.

When my father died last year, I became enraged. I had wasted so much time resenting a man, who had not truly tried to wrong me. A man who stayed with my mother, most likely for us. Wasted time.

Then, within a month of my father’s death, I was shot repeatedly and Ken was killed during an interview in a witnesses home.

We were conducting interviews in a mobile home community about a former resident we suspected of being our serial bank robber. We were invited inside, and sat down with a Miss Griffin Hernandez. When we mentioned the suspects name Miss Hernandez pulled a gun, and shot Ken in the face.
I reflectively drew my gun, but was almost immediately shot multiple times from behind, by whom I assume was our suspect, Jose Valdez. My world went black, and I woke up in the hospital. I had five 9mm gunshots to my lower back, upper back, and neck.

Turns out, Miss Hernandez was Jose’s girlfriend, and getaway driver. The crime scene confused the agents involved in the case. It looked like a massive struggle had taken place, the room had been torn apart, as had Grifin Hernandez. It seemed like a beast had tore her open and feasted on her. Jose was no where to be seen.

That’s when I met Max Roman. He and his pack came to visit me, they told me what I was. At first I was skeptical, but his words held truth, and as he spoke I began to remember what had happened. Roman was able to cover up my ability to heal faster than humans, using connections his pack had at the hospital.

For my part, I spent six months pretending to recover from my gun shot wounds, and faked an injury that kept me from returning to active duty.

I would have been sad, but I now had a new purpose, a new place in life. I told the investigating team, that Griffin Hernandez kept a large dog, that seemed to be more like a wolf. Maybe it got frantic in the firefight and attacked her. Lame logic, but they seemed to buy it, or someone higher up insisted that they did.

I spent time around Roman’s pack, learning the ways of my kind. I spent a lot of time with Allison Mayhew, also known as Swiftfoot, a member of Roman’s pack. While we never tempted our Harmony with any physical relationship, it was the only reason we didn’t.

Then IT happened. An Imeogen was discovered, and a massive battle began. I was young, and not very experienced, and Roman had me stay in the physical realm, dealing with Ridden, and other nasties.

It was like a war zone, even on this side of the spirit realm. I bearly survived, but I was one of the lucky few that did. In the end we won, but so many died in the process, including Swiftfoot.

Roman gave me the Klaive of Swiftfoot, a New Moon Hunter in the Darkness, whom I became close prior to the battle of Denver. I keep her weapon with me.


Now I am retired, at the age of 40. I have supplemented my retirement and disability pay by becoming a licensed Private Investigator. My background alas allowed me to act as a consultant on several cases over the last year. It’s also kept me away from my duties as a Storm Lord and Full Moon Warrior. I sought out Roman, and asked about joining a pack, a new pack to town. He suggested the Gypsy Kings. A Lawyer, a Hacker, and a Nerd. They intrigue me.

Residence: Jacob keeps a two bedroom apartment surprisingly not far from the junk yard.
Vehicle: Jacob used to drive a black sedan, and later a black SUV like most Agents. since his father’s death he has been driving his father’s car (which was left to him) a 1965 Lincoln Continental.
Jacob keeps an office down town for his P.I. work.

Dad with his new car.
The car now.

Jacob Brandon Dillon

GYPSY KINGS iconicus