Oliver Cholmondeley-Fetherstonhaugh

Filler:

Just what it says
on the tin. Why are
you reading this?
It's just to look
right. Otherwise
there's this big
white flash on the
page-turn.

Full Name:	Oliver Rhys Augustine Cholmondeley- Fetherstonhaugh (...it's pronounced 'chumley-fanshaw'.)
Ritename:	Ouroboros
Race:	Garou
Faction:	Gaian
Tribe:	Shadow Lords
Auspice:	Ragabash (Waning)
Breed:	Homid
Rank:	Cliath
Occupation:	Writer. Ish.
Age:	33
Height:	~6'2"
Weight:	~14 stone (196lbs)
Eye Colour:	Blue
Hair Colour:	Blond
Photo Reference:	James Marsters
Voice Reference:	Tom Hiddleston

.

Just Who Is Oliver Cholmondeley-Fetherstonhaugh? A recent arrival from across the pond, little is yet known about this man. Our reporters have, however, observed the following:

Almost offensively English. Some Irish, Scottish, and Welsh people might debate 'almost'.
Burke's Peerage claims he's nobility. Barely.
Everything about him suggests a highly-bred Silver Fang... except having no Pure Breed.
Well, and the introduction as a Shadow Lord.
Apparently some kind of writer?
Smart-arse. Emphasis on the smart, but there's quite a lot of arse in there as well.

Attributes
Dexterity:
Manipulation:
Appearance:
Intelligence:

Renown
Glory:
Honour:
Wisdom:
Noticeable Flaws
Mark of the Predator

'Tall, light, and handsome' isn't quite the usual phrase, but it's accurate enough. A touch over six foot, lean but muscled, with short platinum blond hair, cynical cerulean eyes, a square jaw, and -- most strikingly -- cheekbones one could probably use to cut glass. His eyebrows are a few shades darker than his hair, and there's a break near the outer edge of the left one, where a pale scar crosses it. He looks to be perhaps thirty, and carries himself with an air of assurance, not to say arrogance. It would be easy to believe that he has always known his place, and his place has always been at the top. To those familiar with the accents of the UK, his public-school tones suggest the same.

He dresses simply but well, and generally in dark colours; often entirely in black, though another joins it many days. Not given to obvious labels; the fabric, fit, and finish of his clothes bespeak quality on their own. Accessories are sparing -- now and then a necklace, or a watch.

Around seven feet tall and apparently made entirely of bulky muscle, every sinew thrumming with barely suppressed energy. There's a striking intensity to his narrow blue-grey eyes, the colour complementing his fair skin and unruly mass of platinum hair, but the prominent brows and neanderthal-like features tend to overshadow other aspects of his appearance. He definitely needs a shave... not only on his jaw, but just about everywhere skin can be seen. His teeth and nails seem oddly sharp, and when he speaks, it's in a disconcerting gutteral rasp.

He's dressed simply but well, probably in dark colours, and without much in the way of accessories.

One could be forgiven for thinking of a yeti: while this creature is no snowman, it's certainly abominable. Over nine foot worth of pure white fur, solid muscle, and massive, glinting teeth and claws would be enough to convince most it was time to be elsewhere, even if the screams of their distant ancestors weren't ringing at the base of their brains. And in the majority of cases, they are.

An absolutely massive, pure white saber-toothed wolf.

Yon creature has a lean and hungry look -- and a glint in the pale grey eye that suggests thinking too much, to boot. Such beasts are dangerous. The wolf's fur is entirely white, tip to tail, throwing those eyes and the black pad of his nose into stark relief. Aerodynamically built, more for speed than strength, though that doesn't seem overly lacking; the overall effect is a fairly elegant-looking animal.