The Quiet One
To mortal eyes
Thin, wiry young man. Paled, sunken-in face speaks of malnutrition and inconsistent meals. He always seems to be wearing the same outfit: dark grey cargo pants, a ratty black tee shirt, and a black denim jacket. A silver lip ring and metal hooked earring glint on the right side of his face
To changeling eyes
His hair falls lightly around his face, a stream of liquid shadow as his eyes gaze out like pooled silver. His clothing is tattered, a worn black and grey tabard over white sleeves and grey pants. If there ever was an insignia, it has long been bleached out by use. Even the leather of the belt wrapped double around his thin waist and the soft boots that come up mid-calf are bleached like old bone. A simple ring attached to the belt holds his mace, a thin, elegant slip of a weapon, ending in slightly curving flanges that have been sharpened to razors’ edges.
(Seeing as a certain someone didn’t quite turn IN his biography assignment on time…I am left to my own designs…)
Cloaked in a self made mysterious facade, “M” (as he chooses to be called) is a quiet young man like the rest of his kith. While he does display a bit of a mean streak, it is most likely due to his upbringing on the streets of St. Vincent. What he lacks in formal education, he makes up for with a keen mind lurking beneath his stoicism.
Though not openly affiliated with local gang activity (curiously, as they are so often wrought with a prideful mentality), the possibility is likely from the company he keeps. Just another one of the many curious qualities that makes this young man a hot commodity in our ragtag troupe, and highly recommended by Skuld.
While he does cloak himself in quiet hostility, one is encouraged to crack into his shadow shell…and socialize!
Long story short, darlings. Always finish your homework.