Felix

Overview
Introduction
Notable Stats
RP Hooks
Quotes
Descriptions
Logs
Gallery
Playlist
OOC Quotes
Folks

Full Name:	Felix T. Sinclair
Ritename:	Lets-Them-Eat-Cake
Race:	Garou
Faction:	Gaian
Tribe:	Bone Gnawers
Auspice:	Galliard (Waxing)
Breed:	Homid
Rank:	Fostern (2)
Pack:	Last Call
Pack Position:	Beta
Occupation:	Musician & Thief
Date of Birth:	April 7th, 1998
Age:	18 (Unless you check ID. Then 21. Honest.)
Height:	~5'4"
Weight:	~140lbs
Eye Colour:	Blue-Green
Hair Colour:	Copper
Demeanor:	Bon Vivant
Photo Reference:	Seth Green

Renown
Dexterity:	Specialty: Quick
Stamina:	Specialty: Enduring
Manipulation:
Charisma:	Specialty: Charming
Appearance:
Wits:
Brawl:
Dodge:
Performance:	Specialty: Music
Stealth:
Streetwise:
Subterfuge:
Rage:
Glory:
Honour:
Wisdom:
Conspicuous Merits
Confidence Self-confidence is like armor. If it fits, you can stand up to almost anything. In game terms, whenever another character tries to mislead or intimidate you, the Merit lowers your Social difficulties by two and raises the other character's difficulty by two.
Enchanting Voice There's just something about that voice. Rolls that involve using the voice are at -2 diff.
Fair Glabro You don't suffer penalties to Social attributes while in Glabro form, and will be perceived as a powerful human instead of an animalistic humanoid.
Gifts & Rites
Rank 1 Gifts Call of the Wyld Master of Fire Persuasion Resist Pain Resist Toxin Scent of Sweet Honey Smell of Man
Rank 2 Gifts Blissful Ignorance Distractions Divide Hootenanny I Got A Rock Mimic Reverie Staredown
Rites Cleansing Contrition Questing Fry Talisman Dedication
Faded dots are boons from his pack totem.

"If you feel dirty, insignificant, or unloved, then rats are a good role model. They exist without permission, they have no respect for the hierarchy of society, and they have sex 50 times a day."

— Banksy

"I'm pretty sure I don't think quite so much as you. I mean, I'm not a still water, I ain't all that deep." A sudden, roguish grin, "Rapids are more fun anyhow."

— Felix

2016.09.24: Split Ends
2016.10.29: Dead Mall Discovery
2016.11.04: Second Floor Fomor
2016.11.06: Cleansing Crew
2016.11.19: Saving Dave the Giant Snake
2016.11.27: The Wading Dead
2017.01.14:To Find a Kami
2017.01.29: Fire in the Forge
2017.02.14:Just Keep the Scars

<OOC> Jasen hurls confetti! Should not have eaten confetti.

[Garou] Zeppelin says, "Now I want cookies."
[Garou] Tabia gives Zep a 'C'. That should be good enough for you. [Public] Silly Vanny is a rebel, but also weirdly fond of following rules. -_-
[Public] Congenial Claudia says, "Fuck the police! With consent!" Regarding whether Felix could avoid getting dirty looks at a Fury sept: <OOC> Monica says, "Probably not. Whereas some people have resting bitch face, I'd imagine he has resting cocky face. ;)"

It's a few months now since Felix rolled into town with Lilah in a stolen Eldorado, and things are going... unexpectedly well. The pair had been travelling the country, just exploring, when the Caddy broke down in Fresno. The fix took most of their remaining cash, and since Lilah was getting tired of the road in any case, they decided to pick a place and stop a while, saving up again.

That place turned out to be Prospect, and since arriving, he's managed to make himself friends, contacts, Fostern, and Beta of a shiny new pack. Right now, it isn't looking like they'll be heading off again anytime soon after all.

I Was A Teenage Werewolf: ...and technically, he still is. Are you also lycanthropically gifted, or related to those who are?

Play That Funky Music: Felix is a decidedly talented guitarist and singer. He's likely to be around at times playing a beat-up acoustic in a park or near businesses, angling for tips. Now that he's managed to get hold of an electric and an amp again, he's also getting together a band...

One Jump Ahead: Crime may not pay particularly well, but once you know the right people, it still does better than busking at keeping a guy fed. Mostly burglary, car theft, shoplifting, pickpocketing, and short cons, though if some other opportunity shows up, hey, it's at least worth a look.

Mallrats (La La La): Busily moving into Camelot Music in the Dead Mall. If you're a Gnawer or visiting one, maybe we'll run into each other there.

No Trash In My Trailer: Until that's finished, he still lives at least part-time at the Leisureland Mobile Estates, and is liable to drop by and visit friends (and such) when he isn't.

Tennessee: It doesn't take much of an ear for accents to work out he's from the South, though it takes a little more skill to pin it to Memphis.

Eat the Rich: That boot on our neck ain't from Payless.

A Little Party Never Killed Nobody: ...and if a lot does: worth it.

Descriptions

Compact is the word for him: wiry, maybe 5'6" in his beat-up black combat boots, with a sense of compressed energy and imminence like a coiled spring -- or a cocked gun. Never quite still for long, balance flowing through the balls of his feet. There's a striking intensity to his narrow blue-green eyes, the colour contrasting with his fair skin and spiky copper hair; just below the left is what at first appears to be a faint mole, but closer inspection reveals as a small, long-healed scar. His features are appealing, with high cheekbones and a good jawline, but it's the confident mien and roguish smile that most often seem to draw people in. About twenty, most likely, and when he speaks it's in a mellifluous, southern-accented baritone voice.

Clothing descs vary and are usually accurate.

The word that most likely leaps to mind to describe him is 'rugged'. At least six feet tall and apparently made entirely of well-formed muscle, every sinew thrumming with barely suppressed energy. There's a striking intensity to his narrow blue-green eyes, the colour complementing his fair skin and unruly copper hair. His strong jaw has a fashionable amount of stubble, and he carries himself with an easy confidence. Twenties, most likely, and when he speaks it's in a pleasantly raspy, southern-accented bass voice.

Clothing descs vary and are usually accurate.

It's eight or so feet of muscle and sinew, coated in thick fur, topped off with vicious claws and teeth, sharp as knives and almost as long. It's got a huge, ferociously snarling canine head, massive paws, long arms as thick as telephone poles, and a murderous look in its eye. It's at least a quarter-ton of the kind of power designed to rend, rip, tear, devour, and generally destroy, and when they handed out ugly, it must've gone back for seconds. There's something deeply, severely primal about the creature that just grabs a person right at the base of the spinal column, sending screams from the collective consciousness of humanity directly to the most basic areas of the brain. Chances are incredibly good that wherever this thing is, most folks really, really don't want to be there too.

That's one hell of a big wolf. And check out those TEETH! It's like a freakin' saber-tooth wolf! Looks mean, too. Wouldn't want to be bitten by that thing... those jaws looks like they've got some major power, not to mention those fangs. It's extremely well-muscled, and every one of those huge muscles looks tense, wound up ready to pounce. Its eyes glint with intelligence, and probably malice. It doesn't look like it's waiting for someone to throw it a stick.

A big wolf-looking dog -- no, it's a bit small, but surely that's an actual wolf? There are signs of that kind of cheerful doggy enthusiasm, but the colouring is right and it does seem a bit wild, as if some of that energy is coiled deeply within it, ready to strike. Its eyes sparkle with life, and it sometimes seems to smile, displaying rows of even, shiny, and decidedly sharp white teeth.