Hark DeGaul
Gender: It’s really not clear.
Race: They were born on a Light Ship so I suppose they count as a Londoner. Probably human.
Age: Late 20s-Early 30s.
Height: Around 5’11’’ although they generally like to appear taller. No one has to know you’re standing on a pile of cats if you wear a robe.
Build: Hark is gaunt and slouched with sunken cheeks and sharp, needle like teeth. Their skin is unusually taut and their hands long and taloned. They are a picture of beauty.
Skin color: Grey. They look rather like a blemmigan that’s been left out in the sun too long and shrivelled up.
Eyes: Blue and glowing brightly.
Hair style/quality: A sandy yellow, greasy mass that hangs limply from their skull like a dead squid.
Usual clothing style: When out on the town Hark favours long black cloaks with several cats stuffed inside, which they wear over an (unsurprisingly) tattered dress-suit in the latest Bohemian fashion. At home they favour brighter colours, generally blues and golds and they like to dress in a naval ensemble for parties.
Usual demeanor: Hark appears polite and bizarrely serene considering the cats they almost constantly have scratching at them. They have surprisingly little understanding of some of London’s customs (due to spending their formative years isolated in the middle of the sea) and as such often appear not to care for social cues and graces. Those who know Hark better may sometimes detect an underlying maliciousness to their otherwise placcid exterior, but for the most part they seem to act as kindly to their enemies as they do to their friends.
Voice: Hark whispers practically everything they say. Their voice is lilting and musical and they tend to stare at whoever their talking to. It’s really quite unnerving.
Other remarkable details: If you listen quietly you can hear Hark tick and whirr, and the brighter their eyes glow the louder it gets. No one’s quite sure why they do this, but the one theologian who actually cares suggests it has something to do with their soul and experiments performed by a meglamoniacal force far to the West.
[b]
Hebediah Fix:
[/b]Gender: Male.
Race: British and human.
Age: Looks to be in his early 40s (but he must be older. The man fought in Crimea for God’s sake!)
Height: 5’7’’
Build: Quite short but very muscular. Hebediah is broad shouldered, barrel chested and square jawed. He could have been a poster child for mid-Victorian British military masculinity if he weren’t so short.
Skin color: White. He used to be quite tan and ruddy from years of service in the army, but time in the Neath has made him grow paler.
Eyes: His eyes are grey and he’s a little short-sighted. He generally prefers to wear a monocle but he probably needs glasses instead.
Hair style/quality: Hebediah is close to entirely bald, although he still grows whiskers on occassion. What’s left of his hair is brown and straight in that sort of spiky, sticking up way.
Usual clothing style: Hebediah greatly prefers tophats and more traditional Victorian clothing. He runs a small church and as such often wears a dog-collar and a vicar’s vestements (although he has no official qualifications.) His fashion sense when he does dress for events is terrible and often includes a rather scruffy dinner jacket, a bright purple hat, a monocle and a pair of garrish red socks. He won three medals in Crimea and all are prominently displayed on his chest at all times. Perhaps he doesn’t even take them off to sleep.
Usual demeanor: Hebediah is every fierce soldier stereotype rolled into one, which would be more acceptable if he wasn’t supposed to be a vicar. He’s loud, boisterous and has a loud booming laugh. He is quick to tell jokes and has a way of barging in to conversations and trying to make as big an impact as possible (mostly, but not always, with his words as opposed to his fists.) When upset, or if his daughter is involved, he grows a little colder and more distant, his voice taking on a more weary tone as he suddenly appears older, but he’s always quick to bounce back. Ultimately Hebediah is the sort of person who loves life, loves every challenge thrown his way and probably loves you too delicious friend!
Voice: Hebediah’s voice is loud and booming. His accent is unmistakably English, perhaps from somewhere in the East Midlands although years of attempting to fit in with high society officers has long extinguished most of the distinguishing qualities of that more ‘common’ accent.
Other remarkable details: He has a daughter who follows him almost everywhere. She is in her mid-teens and generally wears a white dress and a necklace with a six-winged moth on it. He never talks about what happened to her mother.
