Post by Gilder on Sept 19, 2012 16:28:32 GMT -5
Name: Gilder... Just Gilder
Sex: Male
Age: 29
Birth date: September 28th
Height: 6'6"
Appearance: Gilder is a beast of a man. With shoulders as broad as doorways and massive hands. his stature alone can be intimidating. His skin is dark and marred, his scars innumerable and pink, one cutting through a phoenix tattoo over his heart, and another one across the bridge of his nose and over his cheekbones. His eyes are narrow and a steely-gray, and his jaw is strong and dappled with stubble.
Player question: This is a question about the character for you to fill out as yourself, the player.
1) Tell us a bit about how you see the character: What makes him/her tick? Why does he/she get out of bed in the morning? Why does he/she act the way he/she does?
Gilder is a bit of a paradox. Professionally, he makes his money killing, and he does it so easily, one would think he'd be cold and distant. But so far, he's proven to be one of the most sweet and sensitive of characters. And despite his gargantuan size, he is tender, doling out delicate touches. Also, not yet expressed in the comic, but touched on in Sacha's journal is Gilder's drinking problem. I imagine Gilder has a hard time with himself, and that's why he seeks out the company of prostitutes and drinks like a fish. It's his way to never really have to be alone with himself and the things he's done.
Character Questions: These are questions to fill out in your role as the character. Think of them as brief RP samples.
1) What makes you tick? What makes you look forward to getting out of bed in the morning?
Gilder let out a laugh, the sound loud and echoing off the walls. "To be honest with you, mate, I'm not much of a morning person. If Sacha ain't there to get me up, I don't get out of bed until way past morning, ey?" The large man reached out gor a nearby glass and a waiting bottle of whisky, considering the label before humming in approval and pouring himself some. "Of course, waking up with something pretty next to me sure doesn't hurt... And a promise of a good glass of liquor can sure light a fire under me, if you know what I'm saying." His smile was easy and he swigged the liquor, sucking his teeth and letting out a soft, refreshed sound. "Now that is a good whisky."
2) Tell us a little about your past. (REMEMBER: keep this vague or easy to retcon! You can even find creative ways to avoid answering this question…)
Gilder sat back in his chair, a casual half-smile quirked on his lips. "My past?" He repeated, as if the question was a difficult one. For him, it was. "Now, why do you wanna know about something boring like that?" Letting his smile stretch broader, he leaned forward, taking his glass of whisky in hand and swigging it, leaning heavily on an elbow. "There's lot's of better things to talk about. And if my past has taught me anything, it's that there ain't time to waste talking about the boring stuff, ey?"
3) What do you love about your job?
Gilder's eyes glazed over, gaze distant and unavailable, but his smile never faltered. Dropping his head, he forced a dry chuckle and shrugged. "What does everyone love about their job? The money I get paid and the things that money gets me." His eyes lifted, a mischievous glint in them. "Booze and lovin'." With that, he knocked back what was left in his glass before helping himself to more. "Plus, I'm good at what I do."
4) What do you HATE about your job?
His eyes burned into his counterpart, and, for the briefest of moment, he let his smile drop. What wasn't to hate about Gilder's job? "It ain't an easy job, I'll tell you that." As if what he'd just said wasn't apparent enough, he downed the glass of whisky in one drink, hissing through his teeth as he dropped the glass to the bar again, pouring more liquor into it.
5) You get the chance to do whatever you want for a whole day. Tell us about it: Where do you go? What do you do? Who do you do it with?
"Whatever I want?" A playful smirk danced across Gilder's lips, the possibility of the question warranting a moment of thought. He leaned back in his chair again, humming to himself. "I'd get me a bottle of the finest cognac I could find... Hell, best make it two bottles. And I'd get some of the best prostitutes money can buy. I got a couple of favorites." Really, only one came to mind, but he tried to push the thought away. "And we'd drink and we'd fuck, sun up to sun down, and then we'd fuck and we'd drink all night long." He let out a loud, booming laugh, leaning back in the chair, crossing arms behind his head. "What a day that'd be, ey?"
6) What is your biggest dream? How about your biggest fear?
Gilder quirked a brow at his inquisitor, smiling lopsidedly. "Getting a bit heavy, aren't we?" Then he looked off, considering the question for a long moment, swilling the hazel liquid in his glass. He didn't want to talk about how he'd always dreamed of disappearing in the woods with someone he loved, living in a tiny cottage where no one could find them. And he definitely didn't want to talk about how he was terrified of the inevitability of his work making him a monster, or the fact that he was pretty sure it already had. "You know, after a life like mine, you kinda learn to give up on dreams, and get over your fears... They're both weaknesses, you know?" His eyes refocused on his counterpart, considering their expression before smiling easily again, swatting them lightly on their shoulder. "C'mon. Don't make me get serious on you, okay?"
Sex: Male
Age: 29
Birth date: September 28th
Height: 6'6"
Appearance: Gilder is a beast of a man. With shoulders as broad as doorways and massive hands. his stature alone can be intimidating. His skin is dark and marred, his scars innumerable and pink, one cutting through a phoenix tattoo over his heart, and another one across the bridge of his nose and over his cheekbones. His eyes are narrow and a steely-gray, and his jaw is strong and dappled with stubble.
Player question: This is a question about the character for you to fill out as yourself, the player.
1) Tell us a bit about how you see the character: What makes him/her tick? Why does he/she get out of bed in the morning? Why does he/she act the way he/she does?
Gilder is a bit of a paradox. Professionally, he makes his money killing, and he does it so easily, one would think he'd be cold and distant. But so far, he's proven to be one of the most sweet and sensitive of characters. And despite his gargantuan size, he is tender, doling out delicate touches. Also, not yet expressed in the comic, but touched on in Sacha's journal is Gilder's drinking problem. I imagine Gilder has a hard time with himself, and that's why he seeks out the company of prostitutes and drinks like a fish. It's his way to never really have to be alone with himself and the things he's done.
Character Questions: These are questions to fill out in your role as the character. Think of them as brief RP samples.
1) What makes you tick? What makes you look forward to getting out of bed in the morning?
Gilder let out a laugh, the sound loud and echoing off the walls. "To be honest with you, mate, I'm not much of a morning person. If Sacha ain't there to get me up, I don't get out of bed until way past morning, ey?" The large man reached out gor a nearby glass and a waiting bottle of whisky, considering the label before humming in approval and pouring himself some. "Of course, waking up with something pretty next to me sure doesn't hurt... And a promise of a good glass of liquor can sure light a fire under me, if you know what I'm saying." His smile was easy and he swigged the liquor, sucking his teeth and letting out a soft, refreshed sound. "Now that is a good whisky."
2) Tell us a little about your past. (REMEMBER: keep this vague or easy to retcon! You can even find creative ways to avoid answering this question…)
Gilder sat back in his chair, a casual half-smile quirked on his lips. "My past?" He repeated, as if the question was a difficult one. For him, it was. "Now, why do you wanna know about something boring like that?" Letting his smile stretch broader, he leaned forward, taking his glass of whisky in hand and swigging it, leaning heavily on an elbow. "There's lot's of better things to talk about. And if my past has taught me anything, it's that there ain't time to waste talking about the boring stuff, ey?"
3) What do you love about your job?
Gilder's eyes glazed over, gaze distant and unavailable, but his smile never faltered. Dropping his head, he forced a dry chuckle and shrugged. "What does everyone love about their job? The money I get paid and the things that money gets me." His eyes lifted, a mischievous glint in them. "Booze and lovin'." With that, he knocked back what was left in his glass before helping himself to more. "Plus, I'm good at what I do."
4) What do you HATE about your job?
His eyes burned into his counterpart, and, for the briefest of moment, he let his smile drop. What wasn't to hate about Gilder's job? "It ain't an easy job, I'll tell you that." As if what he'd just said wasn't apparent enough, he downed the glass of whisky in one drink, hissing through his teeth as he dropped the glass to the bar again, pouring more liquor into it.
5) You get the chance to do whatever you want for a whole day. Tell us about it: Where do you go? What do you do? Who do you do it with?
"Whatever I want?" A playful smirk danced across Gilder's lips, the possibility of the question warranting a moment of thought. He leaned back in his chair again, humming to himself. "I'd get me a bottle of the finest cognac I could find... Hell, best make it two bottles. And I'd get some of the best prostitutes money can buy. I got a couple of favorites." Really, only one came to mind, but he tried to push the thought away. "And we'd drink and we'd fuck, sun up to sun down, and then we'd fuck and we'd drink all night long." He let out a loud, booming laugh, leaning back in the chair, crossing arms behind his head. "What a day that'd be, ey?"
6) What is your biggest dream? How about your biggest fear?
Gilder quirked a brow at his inquisitor, smiling lopsidedly. "Getting a bit heavy, aren't we?" Then he looked off, considering the question for a long moment, swilling the hazel liquid in his glass. He didn't want to talk about how he'd always dreamed of disappearing in the woods with someone he loved, living in a tiny cottage where no one could find them. And he definitely didn't want to talk about how he was terrified of the inevitability of his work making him a monster, or the fact that he was pretty sure it already had. "You know, after a life like mine, you kinda learn to give up on dreams, and get over your fears... They're both weaknesses, you know?" His eyes refocused on his counterpart, considering their expression before smiling easily again, swatting them lightly on their shoulder. "C'mon. Don't make me get serious on you, okay?"