VIDAL, GABRIEL BARTHOLOME [wip]

[GABRIEL BARTHOLOME VIDAL]

gabriel bartholome vidal.
twenty eight ,, loup-garoux ,, heterosexual ,, swagger ,, michel brown
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CHARACTER'S TITLE;;
alpha king

THE BASICS;;
Born in a rural home near New Orleans way back on February 28, 1984, Gabriel Bartholome Vidal (who refuses to go by anything but Gabe) was born to Simon Vidal and Julie Bonseigneur, two teenagers who got together on a liquor-induced whim. You can find him in the marshes and woods of the Louisiana bayou working as a lumberjack, as he by nature feels most comfortable in the woods.

You'll know him by his drawl, the way the words of his gravelly base voice hang in the air like they're there to dry in the muggy marsh nights. His wolf is an exceptionally large red wolf, the species that's native to the area.

APPEARANCE;;
From a distance, you're probably going to notice Gabe's height first. The guy stands at 6'3", putting him more times than not a head and part of some broad shoulders taller than the average crowd. He doesn't go out of his way to be physically fit, but when you spend several hours a week taking down trees and hauling lumber, things happen, despite his somewhat lean frame. He usually wears worn clothes of muted colors, with blue jeans of various colors and states of wholeness.

His short-ish hair is a brown-bronze color, and he usually keeps it somewhere between casually messy and swept up on end pointed towards the side. He keeps his face in a similarly colored varying degree of stubble, which draws eyes away from his exceedingly unexceptional charcoal eyes and thin, pale, and weathered lips. His nose is narrow, further thins at the middle, and sticks somewhat un-endearingly far from his face (a trait he got from his mother, though you'd never notice it but from his profile.) His ears are average to a t in dimension and sit at a low angle to his head.

From his left shoulder blade, a deep, rough brown slash of a scar sweeps across his back to the top of his right shoulder. He also bears a fairly faint pink teardrop-shaped scar (about half an inch long) sitting beside his right eye and an even fainter (though still noticeable) slash scar about an inch and a half long running from the nasal bone and starting to run under his left eye. Finally, he has several scars of various intensities and shapes covering his legs, particularly his calves and ankles.

When in wolf form, he's an exceptionally large red wolf. Two and a half feet from paw to shoulder and a little over five feet long from snout to haunches, he weighs about 70-80 pounds. Gabe's skin bears the same scars as his human form (transposed onto a wolf's anatomy, of course.) Buff-tan fur covers his body, with a light dusting of salt and pepper running the top of the length from his tail to shoulders before hopping to his face and covering its entirety.

PERSONALITY;;
+DETERMINED. The guy knows what he wants and when he wants it. That's not limited to any aspect of his life, either. The means by which he acquires that which he desires may vary, but he can't remember the last time he didn't try like heck to get what he wanted. No is only on the rarest occasions an acceptable answer.

-UNTRUSTING. He's self-reliant to a t. The only reason he's going to give you an inch of rope is if you've done him an incredible favor, such as saving his life. (Not that he's ever going to admit that fact publicly, but he knows when he owes someone. In his mind, part of the repayment is allowing himself to feel comfortable leaning on someone. Sure, that's a little selfish, but that's how he works.) Also, one of the key ways of getting on his bad side is stepping on his toes by trying to control something related to him.

+HARDWORKING. Goes hand-in-hand with his determination. The work required to meet his goals is no factor in making a decision as long as the goal is desirable (within reason.)

-VINDICTIVE/SOMEWHAT CRUEL. Grudges aren't ever out of the question. He doesn't go crazy with them or anything, but if you're looking to avoid trouble, it's in your best interests to not cross him. Particularly if he's in a bad mood. Especially if it's the full moon and he's in a bad mood. His choice of human for the hunt is unbiased in the best of moods and targeted in the worst, and only on the rarest of occasions does he feel the smallest twinge of regret for the pick.

+BOLD. He's not afraid to do anything or meet anyone as long as it's on his to-do list.

-APATHETIC/SELFISH/STUBBORN. No one's ever accused Gabe of being a philanthropist, and very seldom has a guilt trip worked in the guilt tripper's favor. You will require strong persuasion and leverage to get this loup working in your favor (if your goals aren't the same, anyway.)

+/- CHARMING. If he wants to be, he can be one of the nicer people you've ever met. If you're an attractive lady, he'll try to use charm to his advantage. He's got the potential to be warm and affectionate, but it comes into play only at his discretion.

-MOODY/ROUGH. At times, anyway. Gabe doesn't explicitly wear his heart on his sleeve (e.g. start an angry rant about how bad his day's been), but he won't try too hard to filter his actions if he's in a bad mood.

HISTORY;;
On an exceptionally muggy February night in an exceptionally plain Louisiana cabin, Gabriel Vidal was born to Julie Bonseigneur.

You see, Simon Vidal had split the day he'd found out Julie was pregnant. The fact that they'd gotten together was at best a joke made by some bottles of beer and an uneventful evening, and he'd stopped laughing when the joke took a life of its own. With a declaration that he just was not going to be a dad at seventeen, he'd swept the door shut behind him and left.

Gabe grew up as any other toddler would, as long as any toddler spends most of his time outdoors making his own toys and creating his own world.

One night,

BEHIND THE CHARACTER;;
hey, so i'm alex. i've been roleplaying for something like two years altogether now. as well as this character, i also play no other characters yet. you can reach me by pm if you need me for anything. i found NEW ORLEANS HEAT on caution! and i'm pretty glad i did. here's an example of mah skillz. c:

Despite the hesitance in Anyu's acceptance of his offer, her stomach enthusiastically sent her real opinion home. The way it loudly rolled after her iffy compliance was like asking someone sarcastic if Alaska was usually cold, and its eagerness made him want to laugh, should a pang of sympathy have not followed in close pursuit. He'd known it, of course, but its actuality dawned on him: The wolf who had been devouring cold pizza pulled from a smelly trashcan was still the girl who stood in front of him. If her wolf form was anything like his lion form, she still had a majority of control over her actions. And she'd been eating pizza straight from the garbage. That wasn't something someone did voluntarily if they had other options. He would, he decided, need to give her one, at least for today.

This was running through his mind as she explained her temperament, and her explanation seemed to confirm his suspicions. Hands in his jeans' back pockets, he followed her, nodding understandingly and pulling the corner of his mouth down momentarily, a habit he had when trying to understand something. A reply comparing his own lion to form to what she'd just described seemed prudent, but he couldn't exactly identify with not being able to catch rabbits, even as a lion... Having to hunt in that form wasn't something he'd ever needed to do. He could remember being shown as a kid how to pounce properly, and his lion half instinctively knew how to do a lot of that stuff; it had just never become necessary to use for his own well-being. Canaan wasn't even sure she knew he was a shifter--for all he thought she knew, he was just some human who happened to know about shapeshifters. But couldn't she smell him, too? Surely she'd made some assumptions about him at that point; he might as well set a couple of them straight.

”Arctic wolf from your mom's side, hm?” he repeated, reaching over her shoulder to hold the door for her, the dings and bloops of the various arcade games ringing from just inside. A joke presented itself in his mind--and he felt a stab of anxiety as he weighed his comfort around her to the way she might receive it. Based on the fact that they'd seemed to connect pretty naturally, he felt comfortable enough with her to go with it, but he couldn't quite shake the idea that she might feel he was mocking her. On a second thought, it was pretty harmless, so, with a timid demeanor and growing smile, he added, ”Let's go catch a fresh pizza. I hear they move pretty slowly.”

They surrounded themselves in the retro electronic playground, and he saw her take in the interior of the restaurant. The swell of sympathetic sadness resurfaced; his theory was seeming more and more probable as the day continued. But before he could linger on it too long, she'd looked back at him with that smile and taken his hand, and he couldn't explain why that brought another acute flush of warmth to his face. She pulled the two of them to the counter like the increasingly tantalizing smell of pizza was calling her stomach there, yanking the pair of jeans he'd given her up with her free hand once they'd arrived. He watched her eyes jump to the menu and was just about to have his join hers there, his stomach giving its own rumble, when she faltered.

If Canaan was the type of person to audibly coo "aww," he probably would have done it then with a sympathetic grin, maybe even raising his eyebrows a bit. Okay, he caught on, noting how many times he'd smiled in any magnitude around her--he felt comfortable around her. Comfortable enough, even, to quickly catch her dangling admission and reply, ”Oh, no, no. I wanted to get this when I offered. Order whatever you like.” He'd been mostly right about her after all, at least in the aspect he'd pondered. And he presently began to wonder if she'd try to be conservative about what she ordered--from what very little he knew of her, it didn't seem improbable. Glancing up to the menu and back, he added, just in case he was right once more, ”Order two of whatever you like, actually. I'm hungry enough to eat a horse.”

It may not have been necessarily true, but he wasn't about to let her know that.

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