Character Full Name: Julius Blackmantle
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Height: Six feet, three inches.
Weight: Roughly two hundred and sixty to two hundred and seventy pounds
Voice: His voice is like the sound at the bottom of a well. Deep, rough, and lost.
Race/Ethnicity: Caucasian
Appearance:Julius has close cropped hair atop his head. When it does actually get long it's a very dark brown, nearly black, with copperish undertones. The main indicators of his hair color though are his thick eyebrows and full goatee. Showing the full gauntlet of hair colors from a mixed European background such as red, black, and brown. His eyes, resting under those thick eyebrows and heavy brow, are slightly sunken like caves and are an average brown color with odd gold 'flakes' mixed in at the right light. His nose, which is kind of broad, is a little crooked from repeated breakings. A strong jaw accentuates some of his masculine facial features. Lastly his mouth is a little wide and on the thinner side, good for a no nonsense look.
He's a big lad, standing at six feet and three inches. He's also built like pro-wrestlers used to be, a heavy frame of muscle and fat. What people call an endomorph styled body. His skin is darkly tanned and has few blemishes, namely scarring along his arms and chest along with a tattoo of a curled up dragon on his bicep. He's also a very fuzzy man, nearly caveman equivalent of body hair. Keeps him warm in winter.
Julius dressed very casually. Almost nothing but various colored t-shirts tucked into jeans. Occasionally he'll have on cargo pants. Currently he's wearing a black t-shirt tucked into fresh blue jeans that's held up by a well-worn leather belt. Heavy leather steel-toed boots are his preferred footwear. A necklace is on him, quite possibly one of the largest predatory teeth to be found. He also has a well worn leather vest on that's starting to fray at the edges.
Personal Effects:- Zippo Lighter, half full.
- Knife, a seven inch long hefty blade.
- Knuckle Dusters, a pair of steel metal bands for punching.
- Wallet, has his license, money, and various cards.
Personality: Julius is a fairly rough individual with some disciplinary issues. His family was very military oriented and he got a rebel streak a mile wide. A stubborn and blunt man, preferring to stay on point and keeping to his ideas even if they are on the wrong side. Although if he's given complete and solid proof he'll be forced to change his views. He's also stupidly protective of those he considers friends, family, or female. His big build used for intimidation, which he does actively enjoy doing.
Biography: Julius comes from a military family, every male that he knows of joined the service. Except him. He didn't have the mindset for it really and he knew this from a very young age. Of course that didn't stop his father from trying to get him militarized. This got the youthful Julius to start rebelling a lot earlier than normal, doing everything in his tiny power to drive his parents nuts. This of course led to many punishments which were mostly military, and normal, exercises.
Little did his parents know that the exercises would shape the youths future in sports. He was quick to get into the more harsh sports, such as football and wrestling. Even as a kid he was fairly heavy built thanks to good genetics. Here he excelled, using his body and building himself up. His studies weren't to impacted, had to keep his grades up to stay on the teams. Something that he took seriously. Later on, keeping up his schooling and sports, he got into something else. Wrestling was all well and good but he wanted more offense, just in case. So he got into boxing. During the weekends he'd go to the local rings and learn what he could. This helped him bulk up and learn how to really throw his weight properly into various movements without just being a neanderthal. Thankfully all the sports helped him get scholarships into college, something he doubted his father wanted him to get into. Which is exactly why he went, just to spite the military nutjob.
So into college he went, not even sure as to what he was looking for that would mesh with him. He did general studies to start with before slowly gravitating towards the one thing he really excelled at. Physical Education. He didn't know what he'd do with the degree honestly, but it was something he could do that actually fit him. Of course out of the specialized class he still had the general studies forced on him. During these times he met a few people now that he was used to the environment. Namely Jack who didn't seem to mind the brutes rough nature. So slowly they started to become friends from mere acquaintances. Although he still found it odd Jack invited him out on a Vegas trip, but it sounds kind of fun. So off he went with Jack's group of friends.
RP Sample: (From an rp on a different dead site I was a part of). Vormund had been lounging in his recliner, can of soda in hand while flicking mindlessly through various channels on the television. Everything was the same, news was full of drama and sadness, cartoons got stupid, don't even get him on 'reality' tv. That thought sent a shiver down his spine, how people could watch such garbage was beyond him.
Emptying the remainder of the pure sugar and acid in the can he crushed it into a ball of metal. It joined the growing mountain in a large garbage can that was nestled in the corner of the room. Turning off the tv he got up from his recliner and went to the kitchen. Food after, and with, soda was good. A sandwich with that cola would make him less moody.
Of course while he was making his sandwich shit decided to happen. The storm, which he was ignoring up to this point, decided to say "Fuck you." and fuck him it did. By blasting a hole in his roof, destroying his recliner, and going into his basement. His shoulders slumped, his head dropped, and he sighed. That would be a few grand down the shitter in repairs.
Grumbling to himself he abandoned the unfinished sandwich to assess the damage. Big hole in the roof, check. Big hole in the floor, check. Destroyed chair, check. Possibly a ruined foundation, unconfirmed. So with that in mind, and the though of plumbing, he went to the basement. On a shelf along the way he snagged one of those giant flashlights you could signal space with, just in case it was a bit dim down there.
Clambering down the stairs he flicked the switch and began to sweep the fairly empty room for unforeseen damage. Nothing leaking, no wires sparking, nothing on fire. Good. Just a crater in his basement, which confused him greatly. Lightning didn't leave behind craters like that. Blue eyes narrowed before he opened up a cabinet to pull out a derringer. Not the biggest or baddest gun, but it'll do in a pinch.
Keeping the light shining on the crater he approached with the small gun pointed steadily. Inside the hole was....a remarkably smooth object. He slowly crouched, being careful of the singed cement, and nudged the object with the tip of his gun. Nothing happened. So he flicked on the safety, pocketed the gun, and plucked the ovoid thing from the ground.
