Name: Othello George Sampson
Age: 30
Birthday: December 17
Gender: Male he/him
Species: Wendigo
Category: Citizen
Career: Bartender/Owner
Appearance Description: Don't tell him he's short, because at a towering 5'4, I think Ollie already knows that. Along with being short, he's skinny. Ollie's far from the strongest or biggest guy around, and he makes up for that with his personality. Scrawny dog, big bark. He's got strong hands, calloused from gripping guns as well as bow and arrow, and is pretty gangly with long limbs. Despite the lanky figure he cuts, he can hold his own. Perhaps not as great as some of the other, more well-built people on the island, but he can definitely keep his ground if provoked or needed to.
Far from having super-model hair, it really just does whatever. Othello rocks the 'just got out of bed' look pretty well, and actually it looks out of place and odd if he tries to do anything with it. Ranging from a dark brown to a yellow blonde, he doesn't dye it. In the winters it is its usual, natural dark brown, maybe a bit of a cooler brown than expected. In the summers, it's a sun-bleached yellow, with the brown only barely able to be seen underneath it. The Sampson family genes- to put it simply- suck ass, and this leaves him with some premature balding on the sides of his head. He doesn't mind, however, and simply lets his hair cover it when it wants to. Most days it's not super noticeable. No one can really tell if it's curly or wavy or straight, because he generally has it short and messy, though it does lay flat closer to the sides of his head. Ollie will rarely use gel, but it is an option.
One of the most noticeable things about Ollie is his eyes. Bright, big, and blue- Ollie's eyes are definitely a sight to behold. He gets compliments on them almost daily, and to be honest it gets old. His lower lids are slightly puffy, and he does tend to squint at people to emphasis, but none of this detracts from the only stereotypically 'perfect' aspect of his appearance. His skin is pale, but not pale enough to be noticeable. It's average.
Othello's not overly masculine, yet he's not feminine either. His eyes are set a bit high on his face, and his lips are full, with a slight dip in the lower one. His nose is rounded, though not as upturned as would be ideal. His eyebrows are always turned up in a sort of incredulous 'impress me' look. This might be what makes the small man slightly intimidating. He always has some sort of stubble, be it from the fact that he likes how it looks to the fat that he was too lazy to shave that morning. It can vary from a light dusting to a full 5 o'clock shadow.
Othello likes to look his best, but that's far from wearing a suit and tie every day. T-shirts that fit him well, neutral-colored jackets and blazers, polos, sweaters- all of these he can work with in almost any style, and he's not picky with trying things out as long as he's comfortable in it. Classic fit jeans and some cheap sneakers are all he needs, and holes in the pants don't matter in the least to him. Many of his jeans have patches on them or flat out rips.
His new normal, though, is pretty horrifying. His new natural form is probably around 7 and a half feet tall, thin as a rail, and grey. His ribs stick out and his stomach sucks in so much that you could touch his spine by putting a hand on his stomach cavity area. The first time he saw it, it reminded him of someone vaccum-packing a skeleton in grey leather. His antlers add another 2 feet, and they resemble gnarled tree branches where the bark is peeling off. Where the "bark" would be, however, is the velvet of a male deer's antlers about to shed. His knees bend backwards, as a deers would, but otherwise look human. Ollie's eyes fade to a sickly white with a pin prick of a pupil, and his teeth elongate to almost needles.
His knuckles reach to his knees, and his fingers are longer than they should be, with hooked claws ending each of his fingers. Honestly, the only human part left of him is a vague sense in his face that this being was human, and the fact that he's bipedal.
Usually played by Jude Law
Personality Description: On the surface, Othello seems to be the typical 'mentally strong' sort of guy. Calm, cool, collected, and over all stoic in a lot of situations. It takes a lot for him to lose his cool, and it rarely happens. He grew up with an older brother and 3 younger brothers, so it was a rare day that the Sampson Five didn't need someone to keep the peace. This, however, was never left on their oldest brother Sullivan- but always to Ollie. This isn't to say that he won't talk to people, though. first meeting them, Ollie is completely likely to attempt to get along with them before fully remembering why on earth he stopped trying to do that years ago. He gets bored of people easily, and will often flake off of one person to hop onto the next. If by some miracle you have a fantastic quality that he hasn't seen before, however, you may spark some interest. If you spark his interest and somehow break through to become a bit close with Mr. Othello, you have his undying loyalty. He believes that the best thing you can give someone is your trust, and it's reserved for those select few who he deems deserves it. This loyalty is literally undying- he would do anything to help you, but it's absolutely required that he deems to you have earned it first. This process can take years, and he's a man in demand: trust me when I say that Ollie knows instantly if someone is trying to use him in any way.
He knows and has come to terms with his odd name- Othello George- and doesn't really give two hoots either way. He's also come to terms with the fact that 'Ollie' is so much easier to remember and say. He may dislike the nickname, but he's become so accustomed to the fact that Othello is only used for formal or dire situations, that it's become a slight shock to him to hear it outside of the doctor's office.
Othello is a skilled manipulator- you have to be to get people to do what you want. He never explicitly tells people what to do, he just coerces them into coming to the conclusion themselves. He can do it on purpose or he can do it accidentally, and both tend to happen equally. He likes to think himself as practically undetectable in his psychological warfare, but a few people can slip past it and notice that he's up to something in that scheming little mind of his.
Far from casual and far from formal, Othello sort of lingers in between. His mannerisms and vocal tones come off as a bit uppity and posh, as well as his word choice. He picks his words carefully, but that's not to say he's succinct. A lot can be said with a beautifully worded sentence, but much more can be said with ten beautifully worded sentences. He can be casual at times, but he's generally neither nor. He has his own odd way of carrying himself- like a king of sorts- and won't compromise it in any way. A quick smile, a subtle roll of his eyes, a soft 'tut' noise, he's got himself on a pedestal no one can reach.
He has his vices just like anyone else, and he's an avid chain smoker of habit. It's almost one after the other after the other with him, and he finds it a way to relieve the stress he doesn't have. Don't bother telling him how bad it is for him, however, because he'll just flat out ignore you and give you a good look at the ol' middle finger. It's his body, why do you care? He also drinks, but due to his lack of a functioning organ to process the alcohol it never does anything (except maybe a placebo). Ollie favors the 'girly' drinks because of their taste, and as a result has a fantastic knowledge of cocktails and shooters, and how to make nearly all of them. It's not hard for him to chat up someone at a bar, but again, he loses interest too quickly.
Love and sex are a touchy topic for Ollie. He generally thinks of himself as a-romantic. He just doesn't see having explicitly lovey-dovey romance feelings for someone without it building heavily on friendship- and that's a maybe. He came to the conclusion at around age 19 that if he were to truly fall in love, it would be with the person that he hated more than anything on earth. He would need the constant conflict and banter to keep him interested, and that idea genuinely saddened him. Ollie likes his fair share of ladies, though he doesn't mind a dude or two, he doesn't go out of his way for them. Othello loves himself, yet it's unknown how any woman is attracted to him besides his looks and arrogant charm, but he has a load of flings and one-night-stands. More than he'd are to admit, actually.
Over all, Othello isn't someone you want to get on your bad side- not for fear of physical damage- but of a bit of mental damage. Getting him to befriend you is your best bet, even if you dislike him. Just be warned: he bites back.
Species Abilities: Keeping his original form: In order to get one step ahead of their prey as probably one of the most disgusting and obvious looking predators, wendigos have the ability to keep hold of a facismile of what they once looked like. It's not perfect, though, and no wendigo's cloaking is. His stomach is still sucked in pretty harshly- moreso when he gets hungry. His eyes still have a glossy white cast to them. If a wind were to blow his shirt against him, the hollow where his more vital organs should be arranged would be very obvious with his skin stretched across below his ribcage.
Heightened senses: Wendigos of myth are known for tracking. Ollie has heightened senses when it comes close to him needing to feed (around every week or so, even if the hunger never truly goes away, and normal food is just for taste really). This includes all 5 senses. Sometimes it gets overwhelming to him, and if he fails to feed the sensory overload forces him into his full wendigo form no matter where he is. He hates the lack of control, and it makes him feel like a timebomb.
Weak to fire: As are wendigos, Ollie's main weakness is fire- and he's completely and horrifically afraid of it now. He does try to hide that, though, being as it's one of the only ways to outright kill him with ease.
Powers: Bone Manipulation - Having the power to jut and rip your own bones out of your skin may seem useless and cold-blooded, but it really does have its perks. Need a knife? Just project one out of your knuckles. Need some projectiles? Just shoot them from your fingertips. Need to heal a bone? Simple, just wish it healed. Want to scare people by shooting spikes out of your spine? Done! Need to fit in a small space? Just break and twist and contort your skeleton until all of your bones are fractured into small pieces and you can ooze your way into the crevice. Sound terrifying? Well it's damn useful. It is a bit of a bother when you have to make up for lost bone matter, though. If Ollie projects any bones or loses any bone shards in the process, he may heal back together without a femur or lacking a vertebrae. To make sure this doesn't happen, he tries to reabsorb all of his bone fragments. When that isn't possible, however, he makes sure to make up for it by taking in as much calcium as possible- supplements, chewing bones, powders, ect. Not sexy, but it works. This usually means that as a wendigo he diverts from the usual MO and eats a few bones instead of leaving the perfectly articulated skeleton.
Biography:
Additional Information: xxx
Age: 30
Birthday: December 17
Gender: Male he/him
Species: Wendigo
Category: Citizen
Career: Bartender/Owner
Appearance Description: Don't tell him he's short, because at a towering 5'4, I think Ollie already knows that. Along with being short, he's skinny. Ollie's far from the strongest or biggest guy around, and he makes up for that with his personality. Scrawny dog, big bark. He's got strong hands, calloused from gripping guns as well as bow and arrow, and is pretty gangly with long limbs. Despite the lanky figure he cuts, he can hold his own. Perhaps not as great as some of the other, more well-built people on the island, but he can definitely keep his ground if provoked or needed to.
Far from having super-model hair, it really just does whatever. Othello rocks the 'just got out of bed' look pretty well, and actually it looks out of place and odd if he tries to do anything with it. Ranging from a dark brown to a yellow blonde, he doesn't dye it. In the winters it is its usual, natural dark brown, maybe a bit of a cooler brown than expected. In the summers, it's a sun-bleached yellow, with the brown only barely able to be seen underneath it. The Sampson family genes- to put it simply- suck ass, and this leaves him with some premature balding on the sides of his head. He doesn't mind, however, and simply lets his hair cover it when it wants to. Most days it's not super noticeable. No one can really tell if it's curly or wavy or straight, because he generally has it short and messy, though it does lay flat closer to the sides of his head. Ollie will rarely use gel, but it is an option.
One of the most noticeable things about Ollie is his eyes. Bright, big, and blue- Ollie's eyes are definitely a sight to behold. He gets compliments on them almost daily, and to be honest it gets old. His lower lids are slightly puffy, and he does tend to squint at people to emphasis, but none of this detracts from the only stereotypically 'perfect' aspect of his appearance. His skin is pale, but not pale enough to be noticeable. It's average.
Othello's not overly masculine, yet he's not feminine either. His eyes are set a bit high on his face, and his lips are full, with a slight dip in the lower one. His nose is rounded, though not as upturned as would be ideal. His eyebrows are always turned up in a sort of incredulous 'impress me' look. This might be what makes the small man slightly intimidating. He always has some sort of stubble, be it from the fact that he likes how it looks to the fat that he was too lazy to shave that morning. It can vary from a light dusting to a full 5 o'clock shadow.
Othello likes to look his best, but that's far from wearing a suit and tie every day. T-shirts that fit him well, neutral-colored jackets and blazers, polos, sweaters- all of these he can work with in almost any style, and he's not picky with trying things out as long as he's comfortable in it. Classic fit jeans and some cheap sneakers are all he needs, and holes in the pants don't matter in the least to him. Many of his jeans have patches on them or flat out rips.
His new normal, though, is pretty horrifying. His new natural form is probably around 7 and a half feet tall, thin as a rail, and grey. His ribs stick out and his stomach sucks in so much that you could touch his spine by putting a hand on his stomach cavity area. The first time he saw it, it reminded him of someone vaccum-packing a skeleton in grey leather. His antlers add another 2 feet, and they resemble gnarled tree branches where the bark is peeling off. Where the "bark" would be, however, is the velvet of a male deer's antlers about to shed. His knees bend backwards, as a deers would, but otherwise look human. Ollie's eyes fade to a sickly white with a pin prick of a pupil, and his teeth elongate to almost needles.
His knuckles reach to his knees, and his fingers are longer than they should be, with hooked claws ending each of his fingers. Honestly, the only human part left of him is a vague sense in his face that this being was human, and the fact that he's bipedal.
Usually played by Jude Law
Personality Description: On the surface, Othello seems to be the typical 'mentally strong' sort of guy. Calm, cool, collected, and over all stoic in a lot of situations. It takes a lot for him to lose his cool, and it rarely happens. He grew up with an older brother and 3 younger brothers, so it was a rare day that the Sampson Five didn't need someone to keep the peace. This, however, was never left on their oldest brother Sullivan- but always to Ollie. This isn't to say that he won't talk to people, though. first meeting them, Ollie is completely likely to attempt to get along with them before fully remembering why on earth he stopped trying to do that years ago. He gets bored of people easily, and will often flake off of one person to hop onto the next. If by some miracle you have a fantastic quality that he hasn't seen before, however, you may spark some interest. If you spark his interest and somehow break through to become a bit close with Mr. Othello, you have his undying loyalty. He believes that the best thing you can give someone is your trust, and it's reserved for those select few who he deems deserves it. This loyalty is literally undying- he would do anything to help you, but it's absolutely required that he deems to you have earned it first. This process can take years, and he's a man in demand: trust me when I say that Ollie knows instantly if someone is trying to use him in any way.
He knows and has come to terms with his odd name- Othello George- and doesn't really give two hoots either way. He's also come to terms with the fact that 'Ollie' is so much easier to remember and say. He may dislike the nickname, but he's become so accustomed to the fact that Othello is only used for formal or dire situations, that it's become a slight shock to him to hear it outside of the doctor's office.
Othello is a skilled manipulator- you have to be to get people to do what you want. He never explicitly tells people what to do, he just coerces them into coming to the conclusion themselves. He can do it on purpose or he can do it accidentally, and both tend to happen equally. He likes to think himself as practically undetectable in his psychological warfare, but a few people can slip past it and notice that he's up to something in that scheming little mind of his.
Far from casual and far from formal, Othello sort of lingers in between. His mannerisms and vocal tones come off as a bit uppity and posh, as well as his word choice. He picks his words carefully, but that's not to say he's succinct. A lot can be said with a beautifully worded sentence, but much more can be said with ten beautifully worded sentences. He can be casual at times, but he's generally neither nor. He has his own odd way of carrying himself- like a king of sorts- and won't compromise it in any way. A quick smile, a subtle roll of his eyes, a soft 'tut' noise, he's got himself on a pedestal no one can reach.
He has his vices just like anyone else, and he's an avid chain smoker of habit. It's almost one after the other after the other with him, and he finds it a way to relieve the stress he doesn't have. Don't bother telling him how bad it is for him, however, because he'll just flat out ignore you and give you a good look at the ol' middle finger. It's his body, why do you care? He also drinks, but due to his lack of a functioning organ to process the alcohol it never does anything (except maybe a placebo). Ollie favors the 'girly' drinks because of their taste, and as a result has a fantastic knowledge of cocktails and shooters, and how to make nearly all of them. It's not hard for him to chat up someone at a bar, but again, he loses interest too quickly.
Love and sex are a touchy topic for Ollie. He generally thinks of himself as a-romantic. He just doesn't see having explicitly lovey-dovey romance feelings for someone without it building heavily on friendship- and that's a maybe. He came to the conclusion at around age 19 that if he were to truly fall in love, it would be with the person that he hated more than anything on earth. He would need the constant conflict and banter to keep him interested, and that idea genuinely saddened him. Ollie likes his fair share of ladies, though he doesn't mind a dude or two, he doesn't go out of his way for them. Othello loves himself, yet it's unknown how any woman is attracted to him besides his looks and arrogant charm, but he has a load of flings and one-night-stands. More than he'd are to admit, actually.
Over all, Othello isn't someone you want to get on your bad side- not for fear of physical damage- but of a bit of mental damage. Getting him to befriend you is your best bet, even if you dislike him. Just be warned: he bites back.
Species Abilities: Keeping his original form: In order to get one step ahead of their prey as probably one of the most disgusting and obvious looking predators, wendigos have the ability to keep hold of a facismile of what they once looked like. It's not perfect, though, and no wendigo's cloaking is. His stomach is still sucked in pretty harshly- moreso when he gets hungry. His eyes still have a glossy white cast to them. If a wind were to blow his shirt against him, the hollow where his more vital organs should be arranged would be very obvious with his skin stretched across below his ribcage.
Heightened senses: Wendigos of myth are known for tracking. Ollie has heightened senses when it comes close to him needing to feed (around every week or so, even if the hunger never truly goes away, and normal food is just for taste really). This includes all 5 senses. Sometimes it gets overwhelming to him, and if he fails to feed the sensory overload forces him into his full wendigo form no matter where he is. He hates the lack of control, and it makes him feel like a timebomb.
Weak to fire: As are wendigos, Ollie's main weakness is fire- and he's completely and horrifically afraid of it now. He does try to hide that, though, being as it's one of the only ways to outright kill him with ease.
Powers: Bone Manipulation - Having the power to jut and rip your own bones out of your skin may seem useless and cold-blooded, but it really does have its perks. Need a knife? Just project one out of your knuckles. Need some projectiles? Just shoot them from your fingertips. Need to heal a bone? Simple, just wish it healed. Want to scare people by shooting spikes out of your spine? Done! Need to fit in a small space? Just break and twist and contort your skeleton until all of your bones are fractured into small pieces and you can ooze your way into the crevice. Sound terrifying? Well it's damn useful. It is a bit of a bother when you have to make up for lost bone matter, though. If Ollie projects any bones or loses any bone shards in the process, he may heal back together without a femur or lacking a vertebrae. To make sure this doesn't happen, he tries to reabsorb all of his bone fragments. When that isn't possible, however, he makes sure to make up for it by taking in as much calcium as possible- supplements, chewing bones, powders, ect. Not sexy, but it works. This usually means that as a wendigo he diverts from the usual MO and eats a few bones instead of leaving the perfectly articulated skeleton.
Biography:
Ollie was born to a relatively well off family, with one older brother, Sullivan, and three younger brothers- Ashley, Eoughan, and Quintin- to George and Patricia Sampson in England. They were a hunting family, and had a fair bit of wealth saved up in the family name, with a kennel of dogs and a large lodge. He had a fairly normal life, honestly, apart from Ollie just.. being an odd child. He was always distant to non-relatives, a little more thrilled by the kill and solo hunting than his brothers, but he never displayed any honestly worrying behaviors and was always safe so they never questioned it. Ollie was very successful in the club and the family, and was a shining example of a provider and a hunter even if he remained solo while the others found their own families.
Their status offered them perks, such as being invited to the lodges and clubs of their friends in other countries. Ollie, being single and having no ties to the home, was quick to take that offer up. He travelled the world as soon as he was legally an adult. Going to several countries before ending up in the northern american wilderness on a family acquaintances property with only the food he could carry and a tent. Ollie had always been smug, but he was well prepared. He survived for a week or so, eating and cooking what he killed and skinned- preparing the hides and packing them before moving on. His confidence grew the longer he had been out there, however, and he failed to notice the suspicious lack of animals on his trek to the next campsite. He did notice it, however, when the storm came in.
Othello got lost. Hopelessly lost. He couldn't find his way at all, and he had dropped his compass in the snow that blew around him. He trekked up a path- he only knew it was a path because he wasn't tripping over logs when he stepped into the quickly building mounds of snow- until he saw a bright yellow swatch of fabric. It was a ripped up tent, and he quickly ducked into it, only to have the fright of his life.
A frozen hunter, black and blue- not rotten, just frozen. He got over his initial shock and tried to turn the kerosene lamp on beside him. Nothing in it. He figured that's what happened. The man had run out of food, of fuel, and figured he could wait something out. Who knows how long he'd been there. Ollie took the man's sleeping bag, determined to live, and curled up to wait for the storm to pass.
When it did, it had been days. Or more, he was drifting in and out. His toes were frozen, he was sure, but he didn't dare take his boots off. His fingers were in his armpits and he didn't dare move them either. He couldn't waste any resources by burning them, and he had a limited amount of matches.
Days passed still, and the snow was piled outside the tent. He knew he didn't have the strength and he knew no one was looking for him yet. Even then, he didn't have anything to gain any strength. Ollie looked to the frozen man and narrowed his eyes.
Ollie used bits of wool from the inside of the precious sleeping bag he had taken from the man, and one of his waterproof matches he had tried on the kerosene lamp, and started a small fire. Just enough to thaw a bit of the man's arm that had been protected for the most part from frostbite. Ollie's face was cold and determined, no emotion at all, just survival. He figured the freezing would kill anything before it could kill him. His fingers fumbled as the slowly freezing joints cracked at his movements.
A survival knife did the rest, and the last thing Ollie remembered was mentally making a Donner Party joke before he felt.. hungry. Insatiably hungry. It felt like he had never eaten anything as good as this man's arm in his life. He continued. Soon there was.. nothing. Yet he was still hungry. His bones ached and he felt his skin thicken, his skeleton elongating and his knees snapping back. Two points above his ears ached as his antlers grew in.
Ollie didn't go back to England. It would take 2 years before he would contact them and explain what happened, or rather, about 1 year before the owner of the property would notice the body stripped clean to the bones during a survey after the thaw, Ollie's monogrammed knife left behind, and put two and two together.
He had heard of the island, and how he could fit in with all the kooks and creeps and things that go bump in the night, how he could learn to control the things that made him not-him. It was an.. inviting prospect. Of course, wendigos are easily recognised by other magical beings and it wasn't hard for someone who knew about them to put two and two together. A trusted friend helped him seek passage after his.. affliction.. proved less deadly to everyone around him and well.. here he is.
Their status offered them perks, such as being invited to the lodges and clubs of their friends in other countries. Ollie, being single and having no ties to the home, was quick to take that offer up. He travelled the world as soon as he was legally an adult. Going to several countries before ending up in the northern american wilderness on a family acquaintances property with only the food he could carry and a tent. Ollie had always been smug, but he was well prepared. He survived for a week or so, eating and cooking what he killed and skinned- preparing the hides and packing them before moving on. His confidence grew the longer he had been out there, however, and he failed to notice the suspicious lack of animals on his trek to the next campsite. He did notice it, however, when the storm came in.
Othello got lost. Hopelessly lost. He couldn't find his way at all, and he had dropped his compass in the snow that blew around him. He trekked up a path- he only knew it was a path because he wasn't tripping over logs when he stepped into the quickly building mounds of snow- until he saw a bright yellow swatch of fabric. It was a ripped up tent, and he quickly ducked into it, only to have the fright of his life.
A frozen hunter, black and blue- not rotten, just frozen. He got over his initial shock and tried to turn the kerosene lamp on beside him. Nothing in it. He figured that's what happened. The man had run out of food, of fuel, and figured he could wait something out. Who knows how long he'd been there. Ollie took the man's sleeping bag, determined to live, and curled up to wait for the storm to pass.
When it did, it had been days. Or more, he was drifting in and out. His toes were frozen, he was sure, but he didn't dare take his boots off. His fingers were in his armpits and he didn't dare move them either. He couldn't waste any resources by burning them, and he had a limited amount of matches.
Days passed still, and the snow was piled outside the tent. He knew he didn't have the strength and he knew no one was looking for him yet. Even then, he didn't have anything to gain any strength. Ollie looked to the frozen man and narrowed his eyes.
Ollie used bits of wool from the inside of the precious sleeping bag he had taken from the man, and one of his waterproof matches he had tried on the kerosene lamp, and started a small fire. Just enough to thaw a bit of the man's arm that had been protected for the most part from frostbite. Ollie's face was cold and determined, no emotion at all, just survival. He figured the freezing would kill anything before it could kill him. His fingers fumbled as the slowly freezing joints cracked at his movements.
A survival knife did the rest, and the last thing Ollie remembered was mentally making a Donner Party joke before he felt.. hungry. Insatiably hungry. It felt like he had never eaten anything as good as this man's arm in his life. He continued. Soon there was.. nothing. Yet he was still hungry. His bones ached and he felt his skin thicken, his skeleton elongating and his knees snapping back. Two points above his ears ached as his antlers grew in.
Ollie didn't go back to England. It would take 2 years before he would contact them and explain what happened, or rather, about 1 year before the owner of the property would notice the body stripped clean to the bones during a survey after the thaw, Ollie's monogrammed knife left behind, and put two and two together.
He had heard of the island, and how he could fit in with all the kooks and creeps and things that go bump in the night, how he could learn to control the things that made him not-him. It was an.. inviting prospect. Of course, wendigos are easily recognised by other magical beings and it wasn't hard for someone who knew about them to put two and two together. A trusted friend helped him seek passage after his.. affliction.. proved less deadly to everyone around him and well.. here he is.
Additional Information: xxx
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