Aramis
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Wepwawet, The Opener of Ways
Garou
Silent Strider
Aramis LeCarrdeAhroun
Homid
Overview
Full Name: | Aramis LeCarrde |
Ritename: | Mourns-the-Prey |
Race: | Garou |
Faction: | Gaian |
Tribe: | Silent Strider |
Camp: | Harbingers |
Auspice: | Ahroun (Waning) |
Breed: | Homid |
Rank: | Cliath (1) |
Occupation: | Courier |
Date of Birth: | February 15, 1995 |
Age: | Mid-Twenties |
Height: | 6'1" |
Weight: | 175lbs |
Eye Colour: | Silver-grey |
Hair Colour: | Black |
Photo Reference: | Nir Lavi |
Notable Stats
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Stamina: | |
Appearance: | |
Perception: | |
Wits: | |
Alertness: | |
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Renown | |
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Glory: | |
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Wisdom: | |
Merits and Flaws | |
Ghost Sight | |
Immune to Wyrm Emanations | |
Iron Will | |
Eerie Presence | |
Haunted | |
Mark of the Predator | |
Gifts & Rites | |
Rank 1 Gifts | |
Rites |
Logs
No pages meet these criteria.
Introduction
To say that traveling is in his blood is something of an understatement. Once, millennia ago, his ancestors were Medjay; scouting the length and breadth of Pharonic Egypt to keep the peace and serve the will of their God-Kings. With the death of Sutekh and the subsequent cursing of the Tribe, his ancestors fled west along the Mediterranean coast to an area that would one day become Algeria. Then, after the Romans moved into the region, north to Spain. Then to France. Then, finally, to New Orleans, Louisiana.
It was there that Aramis was born; though, true to his roots, he did not remain. Maybe it was his First Change, or maybe it had something to do with that change happening just about the same time he was hitting his stride in his mid-teens; but for one reason or another he left home, left the city, and left the state. Eventually, he even left the country. In the ten years since that change he's wandered far and wide - across the Americas, Europe, and whatever areas in Africa his people can still set foot in.
Connections
Werewolf - He is one. More than that, he looks like some idealized version; as if he's the embodiment of someone's response to what an iconic Silent Strider should look like.
Vampire - No, he doesn't like them; but he also doesn't have quite the same knee-jerk reaction to them as some other members of his tribe. For his part he's just happy if he never sees, hears or smells one.
Wraith - Whatever interest he lacks in vampires seems to have been shifted to the less corporeal sorts of Undead. He knows a fair amount about them, can see them even in their discorporated forms, and has even visited their side of the Shroud from time to time. He bears them no ill will, however, and has even been known to help them from time to time if they ask; but by and large he rarely initiates contact. If they ignore him, he ignores them.
Changeling - If he wants to know about Changelings, he'll ask a Fianna.
Mage - Other Garou have strong enough opinions, so he doesn't have to.Descriptions
There's eerie. There's uncanny valley. Then there's this guy.
He's not unattractive, certainly; far from it. All the parts are there, all the components that would normally add up to something that if not traditionally hansome then, at least, exotic. Tall, broad shouldered and narrow waisted, long limbed and athletic; there's a definite impression of both healthy living and regular physical activity about him, coupled with a precise and focused sort of efficency of movement.
The features, too, carry the stamp of an outlander; Middle-Eastern, perhaps, but with a finer bone structure more reminiscent of archaic Persia than Arabia. To start, his skin is somewhere between dark tan and light bronze; smoothly sculpted over a slender bone structure and whipcord, sharply defined musculature. Ink black hair is kept as neatly styled as it's thickly waved texture would allow; though more often than not several locks make their way across his brow or conspire to tilt the entire flow in a messy lop to one side or the other. Most unusual, however, are the eyes - while they carry the same slanted, almond-shaped definition common to his ethnicity, they are a shade of grey so comparatively bright that they might almost border on silver.
For all this, though, there's something else. Maybe it's the way he carries himself - relentless, unyielding, as if anything that didn't get out of his way was going to be walked over. Maybe it's the gaze; how he seems to go just a little bit too long between blinks, or how he seems to focus intently on something just behind whatever it is he's actually looking at. Perhaps it's the expression as a whole - detached and thoughtful, perhaps more intent than a situation warrants as if there was something constantly weighing upon him in the background. Combined with the aristocratic bearing, this almost predatory aura might seem equal parts seamless and incongruous.
Hulk Smash!
Walk Like an Egyptian
Big Wolf
Wolf
Gallery
Soundtrack
- Burn - The Cure
Contacts
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