| Full Name:
|
Trent Bellamy
|
| Race:
|
Garou
|
| Rite Name:
|
Sh'raii
|
| Faction:
|
Wyrm
|
| Rank:
|
Athro (4)
|
| Breed:
|
Homid
|
| Auspice:
|
Galliard (Waxing)
|
| Tribe:
|
Black Spiral Dancer
|
| Camp:
|
Consultants
|
| Hive Position:
|
Master of the Howl
|
| Pentex Department:
|
SPD
|
| Pentex Rank:
|
Supervisor (4)
|
This man stands around 6'4", with a leanly muscular build, and jet black hair that contrasts sharply with his pale skin and blue eyes. He has almost vulpine facial features, and they suggest he's in his later teens. One might consider them pleasant, but his looks are marred by surgical procedures:
Half of his head has been shorn of hair and an even incision of several inches can be seen at his scalp, held closed with staples. Likewise, his throat has a fresh scar running down it, disappearing into a sheer but opaque scarf, and his ring finger is missing, with a cap of metal covering the unsightly stump.
Clothing is smart and elegant, these days favoring bespoke vests and buttoned shirts with the sleeves rolled up to combat the SoCal heat. However, standing out from his suits are few plastic bracelets around his wrist, one standard white hospital fair with the name Trent Bellamy printed on it, while the other is purple and printed with the letters DNR. His lower legs are clad in tailored linen pants, and his feet sport a shined pair of wingtip shoes.
Lastly, a pair of wireframe glasses are perched on his nose. He might even need them.
Izayah / Ramona Altenbach: Providence. Don't come back.
Mewt: I've grown to like you and your team. Friends? Best of friends!
Raquel: meine Dame. Security Chief. Wonderful baker.
Hamish: Something like my mentor, when I was a pup. The whole Hive misses him.
Pax: Gave me a very unexpected promotion! Cunning mage kin, makes the best equipment for the Company.
Barksdale: Another Glass Walker convert. Likes technology, as do I. First Team Commandant.
Zora: Former First Team Commandant. Transferred out. A corrupted force of nature.
Novak: Herr Doktor. Be seeing you. Somewhere. Somehow.
Kurt: Administrative Director. Chairman of the board. Wisdom and violence and lust.
Ivy: Wrath. Had the beautiful idea of hiding the Curse behind the rage of metal. So I get to be on stage!
Jackson: I'm sure he'll level out and make something of himself. Solve et coagula, baby.
Goldie: Another I think will make something of herself. In many ways, already has.
Eris: Our Defiler Wyrm returned. I like the history and culture lessons.
Jai-lin: Yes. Yes, we met once. Maybe I should thank you, but I don't think I will.
Emily: Welcome back! Have we met? Polite and likes my politeness. And spa days!
Audrey: I adore your scarf! Who do you remind me of?
Wheezington: It seems like we're always dancing with each other. One way or another.
Brainwashed: And Trent feels fantastic! The scar and surgical staples at the side of his head are probably a result of this, but who knows what the procedure actually was. A bomb implant? A tracking device? Were the parts of his brain deemed unnecessary for a Pentex agent simply cut away? He doesn't seem to care much, even if it causes him severe memory problems, and...why are all his dreams about a phone ringing?
Pentex: Loyal to the company, he's been conscripted into a First Team. Wants to join the Consultants camp of Black Spirals, and as a former Glass Walker Cyberdog, feels most at home in their high tech urban halls.
Ward: Mendleton, a supervisor in the Pentex marketing division. He opened Trent's eyes to the truth of the Father, brought him into the fold, and is helping him perfect his voice with surgical upgrades. The Spiral Galliard will defend him with his life.
Bel Canto: Perfection. Trent wants perfection. Perfect pitch, perfectly controlled cadence, a voice that will make people laugh or cry or bleed from the brain at the Galliard's whim. And he's more than willing to mutilate himself to get it.
Shō ga nai: An agreeable guy, Trent goes with the flow, unwittingly put into new and unknown situations, but very rarely does he seem to mind, or try to change the way things are. Shō ga nai. It can't be helped.
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