I posted this in the Interest thread from before as well but I thought i should post my character in here as well.
Name: Phileas Morlock
Age: 23 Years old
Character Equipment: - A Webley MK VI revolver - A sheathed 7" Dirk (Dagger) - A satchel
Special Abilities: - Marksman skills - Acrobatic/Athletic skills - Stealth
-Body: Athletic build, slim but muscular
-Hair Color/Style: Brown and messy, unkept, medium length hair
-Skin Color: Pale
-Physical Description: Feet are wrapped in thick leather bandages rather than shoes to help remain quite (stealth).
The bandages cover each of his feet and up to the shin of each leg with his trousers tucked in. He wears a white shirt with a waistcoat (typical of victorian dress) with a long tail coat. His satchel rests on his right shoulder and hangs across his torso, resting against his left hip. Has dagger and revolver are attached to his belt and he wears a workers flatcap.
As he made his way through the waves of people hustling through the slums of London, Phileas clung to his satchel, holding it tight to his frame. Beggars and thieves grabbed and tugged at his coat, which looked as though it was made of fine material from the richer parts of the city, but he knew better than to keep anything in his pockets. He pulled on the front of his weathered flatcap in a vain attempt to shield the rain from his eyes and carried himself as fast as he could to the only place that he knew was safe. There would be a fireplace there, to bring the feeling back to his fingers, and the police wouldn't dare step foot in "The Last Drop".
The door swung open and Phileas shot one last glance behind him into the cold, wet streets of London. He knew they had been following him and a flush a relief swept across his face as three police officers stopped just in front of "The Last Drop", they met gazes and Phileas fired a grin to tallest of the trio before slamming the door shut. He turned around and, as the startled silence that usually accompanies a new arrival started to drown, made his way to the bar. A quick look around reaffirmed why a cop wouldn't brave a knock at this establishment's door; there were too many crooks with too little morals to let them leave with their tongues. It would be better if he kept himself to himself, Phileas thought.
Now that it was safe, Phileas brought his satchel up and rested on the bar, reached inside and pulled out an apple.
"All of this for some fruit!"
He took a bite.