Ghost
The Basics
Name: Oliver (Ollie) Grant
Codename: Ghost
Alignment: Neutral Good
Age: 21
Appearance:
Oliver is very average for a human male, clocking in at 5'11" and 174lbs. He is not overly muscular, and seems kind of skinny under the clothes he wears, but he is actually quite fit. Oliver is not toned in any sense of the word, but he is healthy, having a lean musculature.
Oliver has brown hair that he keeps fairly short, as well as a neatly trimmed beard. The beard fluctuates from time to time. Sometimes he goes clean shaven, other times he lets it grow out a bit longer than normal. It really depends on how he's feeling at the time. When his anxiety kicks in, he tends to forget about grooming.
While he is not an ugly guy, Oliver is not male model handsome. He's pretty average, really, with a decent jaw line and brown eyes that take on a reddish hue in certain lighting.
Despite his preference for casual clothing -tshirts, jackets, jeans, shorts, tennis shoes- he cleans up well. However, it is extremely rare to see Oliver wear a suit or tux. They're not his style.
Altogether, Oliver appears to be a warm, somewhat approachable guy with a friendly smile and non-threatening demeanor.
Introspection
Personality:
Oliver is a character. He's quirky and odd, but he's lovable. Oliver, however, is not terribly noticeable. He tends to fade into the background whenever anyone with a bubbly or dominant personality enters the room. Oliver can be fun and sociable, but he's not the type to leave an excellent first impression.
Oliver can be clumsy and anxious at times, whenever he feels overwhelmed.
Despite his lack of expertise in social interactions, Oliver has a good sense of humor. Well, good in his opinion, anyways. He tends to be sarcastic and blunt, but always straightforward. He says what he thinks, despite what people may think.
Oliver has never been great at masking his emotions, but he's getting better at it as time goes on.
Overall, Oliver is quirky, clumsy, anxious and sarcastic, but he's a good guy. He has a strong moral compass, and will go out of his way to do what he considers the right thing.
Strengths:
Oliver is an Honest guy, Loyal, Intelligent, and Trusting.
Weaknesses:
Speaks his mind, whether it's a good idea or not. Oliver is loyal to a fault, preferring to die rather than give up his friends to an enemy. He is intelligent, but he's also stubborn, and can sometimes seem like a know it all. Oliver trusts the people he cares for, though there aren't many left. If Oliver were to be betrayed by a friend, it would most likely shatter his trust in everyone.
Likes, Dislikes:
I would say he likes long walks on the beach, parties, beautiful sunsets...but he's not that type of guy. He tends to take a hard left turn away from anything that the majority likes. He's never been a fan of beaches, they're too hot. Sunsets are overrated, and parties are terrible. Oliver likes the simple things in life- good friends, good food, good music, and peaceful time to relax.
Loves, Hates:
Oliver loves his family, his friends, and his stuff. He has methodically chosen the things that are allowed in his life, and has done his best to push everything else away. Oliver hates the fact that there will never be worldwide peace or full bellies. No matter where he goes, there is always evidence of of conflict and poverty. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth.
Dreams, Goals, and Aspirations:
Oliver doesn't have any particular goals or aspirations for himself, but he has a dream. Knowing it is a dream and nothing else, nothing that can actually become a reality, Oliver dreams of a day when everyone will chill the fuck out. War, famine, pestilence, unnecessary deaths... it's all pointless. Wars are fought over petty disagreements and greed. Famine is due to the refusal of the wealthy nations of the world to share resources with the less fortunate ones. Pestilence will always be an issue, but modern medicine is advancing in leaps and bounds. Oliver wishes that the world would just get along for a day or two, at least.
Hobbies or Pastimes:
Oliver was born into a fairly wealthy family. They didn't have billions or anything, but they were well above the poverty line. However, Oliver never cared for the money. He cared for the time spent with his family, whenever they traveled. Oliver loves to travel, when he can, but it's become a rare occurrence these days. He also likes people, making new friends, though he can be socially anxious at times, if he is overwhelmed. Oliver never kept up with the old pastimes like baseball, he was a bit of a nerd in his early years, preferring computers and books over TV screens and stadiums. While he doesn't have many hobbies, he does collect things. Nothing specific, just things he finds interesting.
Name: Oliver (Ollie) Grant
Codename: Ghost
Alignment: Neutral Good
Age: 21
Appearance:
Oliver is very average for a human male, clocking in at 5'11" and 174lbs. He is not overly muscular, and seems kind of skinny under the clothes he wears, but he is actually quite fit. Oliver is not toned in any sense of the word, but he is healthy, having a lean musculature.
Oliver has brown hair that he keeps fairly short, as well as a neatly trimmed beard. The beard fluctuates from time to time. Sometimes he goes clean shaven, other times he lets it grow out a bit longer than normal. It really depends on how he's feeling at the time. When his anxiety kicks in, he tends to forget about grooming.
While he is not an ugly guy, Oliver is not male model handsome. He's pretty average, really, with a decent jaw line and brown eyes that take on a reddish hue in certain lighting.
Despite his preference for casual clothing -tshirts, jackets, jeans, shorts, tennis shoes- he cleans up well. However, it is extremely rare to see Oliver wear a suit or tux. They're not his style.
Altogether, Oliver appears to be a warm, somewhat approachable guy with a friendly smile and non-threatening demeanor.
Introspection
Personality:
Oliver is a character. He's quirky and odd, but he's lovable. Oliver, however, is not terribly noticeable. He tends to fade into the background whenever anyone with a bubbly or dominant personality enters the room. Oliver can be fun and sociable, but he's not the type to leave an excellent first impression.
Oliver can be clumsy and anxious at times, whenever he feels overwhelmed.
Despite his lack of expertise in social interactions, Oliver has a good sense of humor. Well, good in his opinion, anyways. He tends to be sarcastic and blunt, but always straightforward. He says what he thinks, despite what people may think.
Oliver has never been great at masking his emotions, but he's getting better at it as time goes on.
Overall, Oliver is quirky, clumsy, anxious and sarcastic, but he's a good guy. He has a strong moral compass, and will go out of his way to do what he considers the right thing.
Strengths:
Oliver is an Honest guy, Loyal, Intelligent, and Trusting.
Weaknesses:
Speaks his mind, whether it's a good idea or not. Oliver is loyal to a fault, preferring to die rather than give up his friends to an enemy. He is intelligent, but he's also stubborn, and can sometimes seem like a know it all. Oliver trusts the people he cares for, though there aren't many left. If Oliver were to be betrayed by a friend, it would most likely shatter his trust in everyone.
Likes, Dislikes:
I would say he likes long walks on the beach, parties, beautiful sunsets...but he's not that type of guy. He tends to take a hard left turn away from anything that the majority likes. He's never been a fan of beaches, they're too hot. Sunsets are overrated, and parties are terrible. Oliver likes the simple things in life- good friends, good food, good music, and peaceful time to relax.
Loves, Hates:
Oliver loves his family, his friends, and his stuff. He has methodically chosen the things that are allowed in his life, and has done his best to push everything else away. Oliver hates the fact that there will never be worldwide peace or full bellies. No matter where he goes, there is always evidence of of conflict and poverty. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth.
Dreams, Goals, and Aspirations:
Oliver doesn't have any particular goals or aspirations for himself, but he has a dream. Knowing it is a dream and nothing else, nothing that can actually become a reality, Oliver dreams of a day when everyone will chill the fuck out. War, famine, pestilence, unnecessary deaths... it's all pointless. Wars are fought over petty disagreements and greed. Famine is due to the refusal of the wealthy nations of the world to share resources with the less fortunate ones. Pestilence will always be an issue, but modern medicine is advancing in leaps and bounds. Oliver wishes that the world would just get along for a day or two, at least.
Hobbies or Pastimes:
Oliver was born into a fairly wealthy family. They didn't have billions or anything, but they were well above the poverty line. However, Oliver never cared for the money. He cared for the time spent with his family, whenever they traveled. Oliver loves to travel, when he can, but it's become a rare occurrence these days. He also likes people, making new friends, though he can be socially anxious at times, if he is overwhelmed. Oliver never kept up with the old pastimes like baseball, he was a bit of a nerd in his early years, preferring computers and books over TV screens and stadiums. While he doesn't have many hobbies, he does collect things. Nothing specific, just things he finds interesting.
Writing Sample
Oliver stepped out of Jennifer's house and let out a ragged sigh. He hated parties. All of them. And this one hadn't been any different. He'd let Jennifer convince him he'd have fun, that he'd make some new friends. Oliver shook his head at the thought. He didn't need any new friends.
Taking a right down Bleecker Street, Oliver began the long walk back home. Home...where people could be left alone, in peace, rather than be forced to interact with strangers, with people they had no interest in familiarizing themselves with. Home was good. Home was safe.
As Oliver walked, he thought to himself, thinking of what a disaster the party was. He'd knocked over the table with all of the drinks on it, liquor bottles and glasses shattering on the floor. He'd been mortified, frozen in place as everyone stared at him.
Oliver shuddered at the thought of it, knowing just how pissy people got when you fucked with their booze. They needed something to dull their senses, to drown out the thoughts of their shitty lives. Oliver understood. He understood, but he didn't care. He'd never cared for alcohol, weed, drugs...he'd always preferred his own thoughts to the nonsensical ones brought on by things like that.
As Oliver walked, lost in his thoughts, his eyes snapped in the direction of movement, spotting something in his peripherals. Eyes wide, he watched the little creature, whatever it was, flit through the air, before it vanished.
"What the hell was that," he mumbled to himself, more of a statement than a question. There was no one around to ask, other than himself...and he wasn't that crazy. Yet. Maybe one day.
Shaking it off, Oliver continued his trek home, stopping only when he heard some noises from the alley on his right. Screaming. That was screaming. Stopping mid-step, eyes wide and fearful, he turned his attention to the alley blanketed in shadows just in time to see the beast drag its victim into the dark.
Oliver's breath caught in his throat, but a small whimper escaped, at the sight of the monstrosity tearing into the flesh of its meal. It looked like one of those werewolves out of those Underworld movies. He loved the series, but the real thing...?
Wanting to help, but he got the distinct feeling that he wasn't as capable as Selene or Michael. He liked the idea of saving the day, saving a damsel in distress, but in the moment he wasn't that guy.Fight or flight reflexes kicking in, Oliver bolted.
Oliver didn't stop running, until he slammed into the door of his apartment building, hitting his head and bouncing off of it a bit. Scrambling inside and up the stairs, he dashed into his apartment and slammed the door, locking the knob and the dead bolt behind him.
Sinking to the floor, tears streamed down Oliver's face as sweat glistened on his pale skin. It had...it killed her. It...it ate her, tore her to shreds without a thought.
Werewolves...were real? Oliver's eyes flitted about his apartment, from his bookshelves to his laptop sitting on a desk in the corner, just under a window. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to his feet and headed for the book shelf. He owned a few books on mythology. If werewolves were real, other things could be too.
And, well, if they weren't...there were plenty of asylums that would take him.
Taking a right down Bleecker Street, Oliver began the long walk back home. Home...where people could be left alone, in peace, rather than be forced to interact with strangers, with people they had no interest in familiarizing themselves with. Home was good. Home was safe.
As Oliver walked, he thought to himself, thinking of what a disaster the party was. He'd knocked over the table with all of the drinks on it, liquor bottles and glasses shattering on the floor. He'd been mortified, frozen in place as everyone stared at him.
Oliver shuddered at the thought of it, knowing just how pissy people got when you fucked with their booze. They needed something to dull their senses, to drown out the thoughts of their shitty lives. Oliver understood. He understood, but he didn't care. He'd never cared for alcohol, weed, drugs...he'd always preferred his own thoughts to the nonsensical ones brought on by things like that.
As Oliver walked, lost in his thoughts, his eyes snapped in the direction of movement, spotting something in his peripherals. Eyes wide, he watched the little creature, whatever it was, flit through the air, before it vanished.
"What the hell was that," he mumbled to himself, more of a statement than a question. There was no one around to ask, other than himself...and he wasn't that crazy. Yet. Maybe one day.
Shaking it off, Oliver continued his trek home, stopping only when he heard some noises from the alley on his right. Screaming. That was screaming. Stopping mid-step, eyes wide and fearful, he turned his attention to the alley blanketed in shadows just in time to see the beast drag its victim into the dark.
Oliver's breath caught in his throat, but a small whimper escaped, at the sight of the monstrosity tearing into the flesh of its meal. It looked like one of those werewolves out of those Underworld movies. He loved the series, but the real thing...?
Wanting to help, but he got the distinct feeling that he wasn't as capable as Selene or Michael. He liked the idea of saving the day, saving a damsel in distress, but in the moment he wasn't that guy.
Oliver didn't stop running, until he slammed into the door of his apartment building, hitting his head and bouncing off of it a bit. Scrambling inside and up the stairs, he dashed into his apartment and slammed the door, locking the knob and the dead bolt behind him.
Sinking to the floor, tears streamed down Oliver's face as sweat glistened on his pale skin. It had...it killed her. It...it ate her, tore her to shreds without a thought.
Werewolves...were real? Oliver's eyes flitted about his apartment, from his bookshelves to his laptop sitting on a desk in the corner, just under a window. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to his feet and headed for the book shelf. He owned a few books on mythology. If werewolves were real, other things could be too.
And, well, if they weren't...there were plenty of asylums that would take him.