Information
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called... Mathers.
also... Mat, Matty, boss, among other things.
sex/gender... Male.
species... Human (werewolf, turned).
age... Late twenties or early thirties, apparently.
birthday... October 30th, ????.
from... The Great White North.
nationality... Canadian, eh.
sexual orientation... Heterosexual.
relationship status... Fucking a rich and hot af bitch ......a lot.
family... R.I.Pieces. No kids and he hasn't turned anyone, to the best of his knowledge.
pack... Lone wolf. Not interested in 'wolf politics' and or any of that BS.
occupation... Manager at Peachez N' Cream ......aaand being a serial killer.
income... Enough to live comfortably and then some.
residence... A nice house/cabin in the woods near Ratchet.
vehicle... A black 1969 Ford Mustang Mach 1, a fancy present from Roxx, and a few undisclosed inconspicuous vehicles.
education... High school and he prowled college/university campuses, dabbling in business, biology, and psychology.
criminal record... Squeaky clean.
language(s)... English, for sure. Probably at least some French because he's Canadian. Maybe more?
religion... None, but obviously acknowledges the supernatural.
diet... Omnivore, favours meat, fruit, poutine, and bourbon.
blood type... Undefined.
body temperature... Maintained at about 39-40°C (102.2-104°F), warmer than and considered feverish for normal people.
handedness... Ambidextrous.
physical health... 110%.
mental health... Questionable, but he acts normal.
personality... Psychopath, yet a social chameleon. RP and find out.
history... None of your damn business, jk. RP for that shit, yo.
height... 5'10".
weight... Around 160 lbs.
build... Athletic, lean, toned. Fit as a fiddle.
ethnicity... White boy.
complexion... Fair, if not lightly tanned.
eyes... Normally, a fierce wolf-like gold thanks to his curse. If influenced by wolfsbane or unconscious, then a striking icy blue (it's safe to assume his eyes are blue in NV).
hair... Dark brown, messy just-had-sex hair.
facial hair... Five o'clock shadow or scruff, occassionally cleanly shaved.
scent... His own manly aroma that is generally considered pleasant and enticing, earthy and laced with blood and sex. He'll also wear some nice body spray or cologne.
scars... Nasty bite mark on his right shoulder, the one and only scar he has/will ever have.
piercings/tattoos... None.
clothing... His style is pretty casual, but can be sharp, and varies overall. He'll wear button-down shirts, long sleeved shirts, t-shirts, wife beaters, pullover and zip-up hoodies, leather jackets, jeans, dress pants, suits, tuxes, etc. Mostly dark colours (black, greys, dark blues, etc. with maybe some white once in while). He'd rather be barefoot, but will wear short black harness boots on his feet and he's usually goin' commando.
accessories... When in public, he wears a thin leather band infused with very, very dilute wolfsbane solution tied around his left ankle. This causes his eyes to be blue, ever so slight slowing of healing rate, and also results in slight redness of the skin where the leather band is worn. Due to the the amount of wolfsbane being so minute, there are essentially no other negative effects and it's difficult to detect.
carried... Wallet with some cash, an iPhone, a zippo lighter (even though he doesn't smoke), and sometimes a combat knife sheathed in a holster attached to his belt.
height... Fucking tall, over the 15' mark.
weight... Fucking heavy.
build... Built to kill.
eyes... Intensely gold with an eery glow.
fur... Varying shades of brown, black, and creamy white, like so. Thick and untamed with a prominent mane.
stance... Primarily bipedal and somewhat hunched, though also comfortable on all fours especially when running.
disposition... Grr.
quirk... Will chase down vehicles on the country roads/highways and destroy them along with whoever is inside.
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