Post by THOMAS RENARD on May 25, 2011 2:34:19 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=padding,0,true][atrb=background,http://i52.tinypic.com/24ph00x.jpg][atrb=width,450,true] RENARD, THOMAS freedom is just chaos with better lighting name: Thomas Renard age: a young upstart at barely four hundred. race: demon occupation: although the original intention was clearly that Thomas serve as a valet or butler, he is more commonly found in the scullery or stable, in his shirtsleeves, than in a suit attending his master; a habit that is tolerated because it is easier to ask somebody else to pick out and attach Olivier's cuff links than it is to drag Tom out of the kitchen, washing-up water splattered across his shirt, to do it. When it comes to protecting Olivier and executing his less domestic orders, however, Thomas is far from tardy. sexuality: omnisexuall/aromantic faustian contract: Thomas is contracted to Olivier Dubios, impatiently attending the young nobleman until monarchy is restored in France and he can consume Olivier's soul. faustian seal: Thomas' glowing seal sits just off the rise of his left hip, between hipbone and crotch, just showing when his shirt rucks up the side of his ribs and his trousers are loose. soul flavor: the clear, sharp flavors of intellect, the richness of passion, and the heat of revolution. soul count: quite high for his age; Thomas has very little self control. personality strengths:
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history: “The dogs have more breeding,” the diplomat sneers, looking down a hatchet nose at the scruffy blond, smelling of dog, covered in fur and dirt, standing by the side of the path, a half pack of hunting dogs gamboling around his feet. His hair's down and too long, and his trousers on loose, and when he stretches his arms above his head his filthy shirt rides up and shows a flash of strange symbol glowing on his hip, just above the start of curling golden pubic hair. “You must excuse my butler,” Olivier says. Then, with an edge of snark: “Heel, Thomas.” Thomas looked restrained. Every movement he made was a promise of greater power. He could have moved animal-fast and spooked the horses so they threw their riders; moved with unnatural speed to crouch over the fallen diplomat, make a precise incision, reach in, stimulate a specific nerve, had the diplomat screaming in pain and voiding himself in all directions. But he didn't. He smiled. ___ Olivier is Thomas' first contract: the demon spent years hunting human souls just because he could, reveling in his raw power, and generally pissing off older demons in the process. He never really knew to respect anything or anybody, so it took a hefty beating and serious threat of death from a Greater Demon for him to even consider contracting. With a contract, the Greater Demons couldn't compel him. Course, they were also the ones what told him to quit wantonly consuming souls and try a little finesse. Whatever. The aesthetics, he kind of gets those, but he likes to toe the line. He's never gone a year without eating before, though, and he really could get into this whole monarchy getting reinstated happening sooner rather than later. OOC NAME: Lowkey FACECLAIM: Axis Powers Hetalia, France—Thomas Renard made by i k k i for black rain! |