Calm-exterior psychopath, convinced he is doing God's work by murdering those he deems to be heretical or degenerate. A one man Spanish Inquisition.


Name: Galen Sauvage De la Croix
Age: 29
Sex/Gender: Male
Ethnicity: French-Occitanian parentage
Occupation: Stockbroker
Socioeconomic status: Upper Class
Education: Masters in Business Administration

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Physical Appearance
Eye color: Hazel
Skin color: warm ivory
Hair color: Deep black
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 186lbs
Body type: toned
Fitness level: high
Tattoos: N/A
Scars/birthmarks: Scarification everywhere except hands and face; excerpts of biblical verses, Sins, self-flagellations, etc. Think Joseph Seed From FC5
Other distinguishing features: Small mole on left ear
Disabilities: N/A
Fashion style: Modern Cary Grant
Accessories: gold ring inset with a suspicious, large blood-red stone.
Cleanliness/Grooming: Spotless
Posture/Gait: Proper, almost too much.
Coordination (or lack thereof): Highly coordinated, calculated, like a machine.
Weaknesses: Any human weakness

History
Birth date: March 11th, 1995
Place of birth: New York, New York
Key family members: Abusive Religious Zealot father
Notable events/milestones: Baptism, first murder
Criminal record: Clean
Affiliations: Novae Eden Communalism Church
Skeletons in the closet: More like all over LOL

Psychological Traits
Personality traits: Kind but stern, firm but fair (when in public)
Temperament: When slighted, viscious
Introvert/Extrovert: Extroverted
Intelligence: IQ 138
Self-esteem: High
Hobbies: Taxidermy
Skills/talents: Knifework, agile
Morals/Virtues: Donates much of his earnings to charities
Phobias/Fears: God, damnation
Angered by: Homosexuals, sex-workers, idolatry, other religions, the rich, etc
Routines: in depth morning skin and body care routine
Bad habits: Murder
Flaws: Obsessive
Favorite sayings: "Can't expect god to do ALL the work."

1. You add first, you message first. I'll do the same!
2. ERP is okay if it is a component of the plot, but not the center of it. That's not what I'm here for. I'm the kind of guy that's gets uncomfortable during sex scenes on TV lol
3. Keep things between characters/OCs. I'm happily engaged to a stunning goth lady, don't pull anything funny because she knows how to end us both.
4. I'm a very busy person, I work full time and have a household to take care of as well so I don't always have a lot of free time in my day. This means I might not be able to get back to you right away. Don't worry though, I will get back to you when I can!
5. I'm open to create custom characters if the ones I've created don't jive with you, I will need some time to come up with something though.
6. Try to be literate within reason. Little spelling or punctuation mistakes here or there are negligible though, I'm not perfect either!


May add more in the future as the need arises!


PS Read thoroughly or I'll find you.

Coming Soon - WIP
Name: Joszev Bartosz
Gender: Male
Sexual/Romantic Orientation: Bisexual
Age: 28
Occupation:

Height: 5'10"
Build: Lean muscle
Skin Tone: Warm Ivory
Hair: Deep Brown
Eyes: blue
Identifying Marks: Various scars across his body from dominance bouts with other werewolves
Appearance: Young and handsome, a picture perfect face with a battle scarred body

Personality: Self assured, Narcissistic and vain.
Current Goal: Find his progenitor
Life Goal: Break his curse without killing himself OR coexist with it in peace
Best Quality: Agile
Worst Quality: Over confidence
Fears: Wolfsbane, Silver
Skills: Heightened senses, strength, agility

Alignment: True Neutral
Group/Organizational Affiliations: N/A

Family: Estranged
Relationship Status: Single
Significant Other: N/A

Character Chart
Character’s full name: Roland Andrew Thompson
Reason or meaning of name: "Fame of the land"
Character’s nickname: Rollo
Reason for nickname: short-form
Birth date: March 14th, 1863

Physical appearance
Age: dependant
How old does he/she appear: 28
Weight: 235bs
Height: 6'1"
Body build: Muscular with a little extra padding
Shape of face: oval
Eye color: deep green
Glasses or contacts: none
Skin tone: moderately tanned
Distinguishing marks: 3 claw scar across left cheek
Predominant features: wideset jaw, prominent brow.
Hair color: Auburn
Type of hair: lightly textured
Hairstyle: medium length (Think Sam Winchester, season 6)
Voice: rough, but soft spoken.
Favorite outfit: Black Cape coat, white double breasted shirt, wine-red waistcoat, wide brimmed cavalry hat
Jewelry or accessories: Two S&W Model 3 Revolvers; One nickel plated and one black


Personality
Good personality traits: Steadfast, Courageous,
Bad personality traits: Reckless, short-temper
Sense of humor: Average, but slightly dark
Character is most at ease when: Alone in nature
Priorities: Staying alive, not losing himself
Character’s soft spot: Children and animals
Greatest strength: Does well under pressure
Character’s darkest secret: The demon that has taken residence in his soul
Does anyone else know? Nobody above ground

Habits
Hobbies: Sketching
Plays the Bandola
Smokes cigarettes
Drinks when he can
Other drugs: Laudanum for pain and sleep
Extremely skilled at: Reading people
Extremely unskilled at: Opening up to them

Traits
Pessimistic
Introverted
Daredevil
Logical
methodical
Prefer working or relaxing? Relaxing, when he can
Confident in the moment, unsure when Alone with his thoughts
Animal lover


Relationships with others
Opinion of other people in general: People are flawed, but good overall
Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? Often
Love interest(s): Puts up walls for everyone, but the right person could bring them down.
Roland was once no more than a normal teenager. He grew up on a farm with his family, spending his days tending to the animals and pulling weeds in the fields. One morning he awoke from his slumber, the sound of birdsong and roosters crows outside his bedroom window. He yawned sleepily and sat up in his bed. Stretching as he went he begrudgingly removed his pyjamas and slipped on his slacks, button-up, and his socks before proceeding downstairs. The smell of johnnycakes and sweet syrup wafted throughout the house. He greeted his mother, father, and little sister. They chatted over breakfast about what needed to be done around the home, and what had been happening in their lives lately, who they'd bumped into in town, the cost of animal feed, the typical mundane of the farming life. Roland often wished for more excitement in his life, but truthfully he enjoyed the quiet security.

Finishing breakfast he slipped on his boots, securing the buckle tightly before making his way outside. He stopped by the well where he had fitted an Archimedes screw for easily filling the large water troughs. Roland had always been inventive, constantly coming up with new devices to make life a little easier. He turned the device, and as the water began to flow he noticed something odd; the barn door was ajar, and yet the cattle were nowhere to be seen. Roland felt uneasy but decided it best to check it out for himself.

As he neared the doors he was hit hard with the strong sharp odour of Iron and copper; the smell of blood, But there was something else too.

"Sulphur?" Questioned Roland.

He was apprehensive, but collecting himself he opened the doors and was greeted with a grisly sight. The cattle had been slashed and torn apart, their viscera hanging from the rafters like some hellish tinsel streamers. Roland felt his breakfast attempting to escape, but he kept his composure the best that he could. He cried out for his Father, unsure what else to do.

"What is it, Roland? What are you screaming for?" Said Leopold
"What in the goddamn...what the hell happened here?"

Roland's mother and sister, Nora and Adriana, exited the front door to see what the commotion was, looking on in horror at the scene inside the barn. Suddenly, a deep voice emanated from behind Roland.

"So nice of you to bring the whole family, I was going to have fun hunting them down one by one but I Laud your efficiency, boy" A dark figure emerged from the shadows, a pale man that Roland recognized as their neighbour Karl Palmer who had gone missing while hunting about a week ago.
"K-Karl? You did this?" Roland eked out.
"Oh no of course not, I'm just using Karl's body in his absence. This vessel wears thin however, I'll need a replacement soon. But why all the exposition, you won't remember any of this when you're dead." The entity said as if it were some twisted joke.

The man lurched forward, faster than any Roland had ever seen. He struck Roland in the head with a branding iron, dropping it by his feet as Roland collapsed. Roland felt the concussion ring out in his skull. He couldn't muster the strength to lift a finger. he could only watch as the man approached Leopold, drawing an odd-looking dagger and plunging it into the aging farmer's heart. 3 other men emerged from the sides of the home, joining the first as they surrounded the two women.

"Take the girl." Said the man.

Nora protested, jumping in front of her daughter, where she was promptly cut down by one of the devil's henchmen.
Adriana let out a bloodcurdling cry, somewhere between a wail and a scream, before she was seized, bound, and thrown into a nearby wagon.
"Go quickly, Don't be seen. I'll catch up with you later"

Roland struggled, managing to make it to his feet.

"Aha, you're alive, are you? You're stronger than you look, boy. Perhaps I've found my next vessel after all."

The man grinned a toothy and unnatural smile. He began to run toward Roland, mouth opened wide as a thick black smoke burst forth from it.

"Sh*t!" Cried Roland, grabbing the branding iron that lay at his feet.

In a last-ditch, Roland mustered what strength he had left and swung the iron at the twisting and writhing mass of black, ethereal tentacles. Bright orange sparks of electricity danced across the rod as it passed through, disrupting it somewhat. As the mass reached Roland it entered his body, through his mouth and nose it reached his lungs, spreading and diffusing through every blood vessel and every nerve fiber. Roland blacked out.

First Name - Pátroklos

Last Name - Chasapis

Nickname - Pat

Age: 376

Birthday: July 20, 1624 (born)
July 20, 1648 (Turned)

Birthplace: Island of Sifnos, Greece

Zodiac: Cancer

Height: 6'1" (185cm)

Gender: Male

Orientation: Bisexual

Social class: Varies over time, at times has been Nobility, other times homeless. Tends to float around to stay under the radar.

Species: Vrykolakas

Abilities:(Human form) Enhanced strength, agility, halted aging while fed, heightened senses.
(Primal form) Superhuman strength, speed, highly invulnerable to conventional weaponry, claws, fangs.

Appearance: Blonde, wavy hair. Pale blue eyes with central heterochromia, pallid skin, femme features

Scars: multiple across the chest, back and extremities from when he was attacked/turned

Body mods: N/A

Temper: Depends on satiety, the hungrier they are the more short-fused.

Personality/Background Information:

Pátroklos was born and raised on the island of Sifnos in Greece to an unremarkable family. His father was a butcher, and his mother a potter when she wasn't desperately trying to keep control of the household and her 4 children. His childhood was normal, quiet, and humble, and overall peaceful even considering the relatively new Ottoman rule of the country. Sifnos was left mainly to its own affairs and therefore the lifestyle maintained. He would do track and field activities with his schoolmates, fish, hunt small animals with his sling, and relax at the waters edge as the soft waves lapped at his feet.

In the eve of Pátroklos' 24th birthday, after a long night of drink and celebration, he stumbled his way home alone, tired, and inebriated. The pitch black of the new moon obscured every nook and cranny of what was once as familiar to him as the creases of his own palm. Attempting to follow his usual route, he took a wrong turn. Passing by the local cemetery, he shuddered as the cool night air whistled through the gravestones. Suddenly, chills became terror as he heard the soft rustling of displaced earth and heavy, ragged breath.

Within seconds, the hulking horror borne from the loamy soil bore down on him, slashing and biting deeply into his flesh as he wailed for help that would never arrive in time. A nearby farmer rose from his hovel, hearing the screams he sprang out the door scythe in hand. When he found pátroklos, it was already too late.
His body maimed and torn, he was buried quickly in a small closed casket funeral. However, if they had taken their time in examining him, they would have noticed the transformation beginning.

15 moons later, Pátroklos awoke. He gasped desperately for air within his cramped burial bed, frantically vying with death for an escape. Relentlessly bashing, pushing, and digging, he splintered the wood of his tomb and clawed through the earth before finally surfacing. After catching his breath, he looked downward, seeing his grotesque and bloodied talons he now possessed. In horror he ran to the nearby stream and gazed downward toward his reflection like a lovesick Narcissus. The beast that stared back at him from the cool waters paralyzed him in place, and even through its fanged visage one could still see the expression of pure disbelief, shock, and fear. Mortified of what the townsfolk might do to him if they saw him, he sauntered off into the night, woeful in the knowledge that he may never see his loved ones again.

As the full moon waned, pátroklos found himself reverting to his original form. His fangs receding, claws flaking to reveal the pink and unthreatening nails beneath; His pallid and beast-like facade faded away to reveal his piercing eyes and youthful face, adorned on top with beautiful waves of cornsilk hair. Knowing now that he would be recognized as the man whose shattered body had just been lowered into the earth just weeks ago, his only option was to run far away and start a new life.

***Being that he is so old and constantly changing identity to keep himself hidden, RP can have any time and place setting between 1648 and the modern day!***