Post all Garou under this heading

 She usually is dressed nicely, keeping up with the fashion trends. She appears to be in her early forties, but still maintains a green streak in her hair. She resides in a downtown flat with some security. Likely the eldest Garou in Sanfield, she is originally from here. She left to pursue her talents in LA and has recently returned upon hearing disastrous tales about her former Caern and home.

Appearance - 4

A dirty older man, he often wears thread bare clothes. He has an affinity to ratty old flannels and dirty pearl snapped cowboy shirts. He favors Corduroy jeans enjoying the darker shades as they hide stains better. He always has an old green duffel bag wherever he goes. He wears old cowboy boots that are always filled with holes and held together with duct tape. He likes his old Atlanta Braves hat that surely dates from the sixties and his favorite pair of leather gloves with the fingers cut off.

Appearance - 2

Battle Scars - A wicked scar runs under his right eye and he is missing his left ear though it is difficult to notice at first.  

--Last edited by Mnemon on 2008-12-21 16:16:16 --

A sniff is heard as he appears, wearing a simple button up white shirt and tie, under a gray sweater, with a brown jacket and pants. In the increasing cold weather he wears a thick wool coat and is wrapped in a black scarf. He clutches a clean white handkerchief in one hand. Maybe he has a cold, or possibly recovering from the flu, but there's a feeling of sickness about him that makes one think he's never been fully well in his life. Sensible shoes, his clothes well tailored, presenting the appearance of a professional, but his paleness suggests that is usually confined to an office or laboratory, considering the faint scent of sterile instruments; Very clean. He's tall, maybe slightly over 6', light brown eyes peering through a pair of thin-framed glasses, brown hair cut short but hastily brushed into place. He walks with a slow carefulness, his frame obviously thin and scrawny, adding to his sickly appearance.

App: 2

Whiskey Jack is loud, obnoxious and usually half wasted. He comes off as a boistrous ex-con. Rumor has it he really used to be something. A fianna warrior to be feared and respected but these days he reeks of whiskey and can never seem to get his glass eye in straight.

Whiskey jack resides in the IronWood trailer park.

Appearance: 2

Battle Scars-

Whiskey jack is missing his left eye. Judging from the scar tissue around it the eye was plucked out by claws.

As a veteran of countless battles Whiskey Jack has numerous slashes and clawmarks and punctures all over his torso, arms and legs.

Fiddler Weeps a.k.a. Yuri

Yuri is a slender 130 pound Romanian about 5’10 in height. Yuri always wears layer of clothing usually old torn red jacket and a yellow baby tea underneath. His pants are always loose fitted parachute pants that are stripe with yellow and black. His waist has a golden sash with coin that hang around the base to give an extra rhythm if he feels frisky. His neck is cover with gold chains of different length and sizes but some leave a green residue on his neck. You can’t escape the smell of rose oil when you are around him it seems like he just started to sweat it out of his pores.  He has very dark brown hair which forms into side burns. He always has mustache because a man is not a man without a stache.

"Sun-of-the-South"

This good ol' country boy is cut like a scarecrow, standing 6 foot even and weighing around 150lbs. He is generally attired in slacks, suspenders and a button up shirt, all brown, well worn and dusty. For special occasions he's been known to throw on an old pair of boots, though he tends to go barefoot. His eyes are a grayish brown, resembling polished stoned. He recently shaved his tarnished black hair and has been sporting a crumpled rabbit-hair fedora that he scrounged from some dumpster. He shaves his face daily with a straight razor, but generally has a 5 o'clock shadow by 3. He has a thick Appalachian accent, belaying his humble roots.

His family has a dark past, that haunt his dreams nightly.

Appearence - 3

Battle scars - A punctured lung that never healed correctly gives his speech a constant, though soft, wheeze.  

--Last edited by Son on 2009-01-09 02:25:00 --

RedTail "Finds-the-Thorns-in-Father's-Path" is a 3 1/5 year old average sized wolf with a mostly uniform hide of reddish black fur, interrupted only by sparks of red at his joints and a solid red tail.

His manner is alert and curious, often looking around with ears rotating, and sniffing his surroundings thoroughly.

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In Homid (what he calls Two-Legged) form he appears in his mid twenties, overtly native american and has a wiry build that stands about five foot ten inches tall with long black hair.  His features have a wild look to them, almost appearing as a fair Glabro.  A bushy peaked brow meets above his nose and upon closer inspection his light brown eyes hint to the wolf in him with flecks of yellow,  His ears are topped with slight peaks, and a touch of hair near the back of the lobe.

When he speaks, often questions in low calm tones, it is visible that his eye teeth resemble small canines.  His lower palms and the heels of his feet are dusted with a light covering of soft reddish hair, and his lower back is covered in a spade of thick reddish black fur - other than this, his body is relatively hairless.

[Appearance - 2]
[Pure Breed - 2]

while in the Blister he dresses in whatever loose fitting man-clothes he happens upon, resulting in an eye sore of a mis match and broadcasting clearly that he understands little the sociological implications of fashion.

He is always wearing his dedicated tribal clothing underneath the man-clothes (a leather loin cloth, deer skin leggings, leather arm straps, a tribal necklace adorned with a mixture of beads and bones, and moccasins), and removes the impractical blister clothes whenever he is able.  

--Last edited by RedTail on 2009-02-13 14:47:58 --