[OOC] Character Profile
This journal is now part of fouryearsofhell.
.name. Squall Leonhart
.age/year. 17
.appearance. Brown hair; looks like he cut it himself with a pocketknife and no mirror, which in fact he might have done. Grey eyes. Diagonal scar down his forehead and between his eyes; you ask him how he got it, no, you ask him. Penchant for dressing in mostly black, including gloves, steel-toed combat boots, and a black leather bomber jacket with a white fur collar. Too many belts. Perpetual grim expression.
.personality. Seventeen going on forty. Loner and man of few words; sardonic and abrupt. No concept of tact and not much by way of a sense of humor that anyone is aware of. Born straight-man. Cultivates a hard-ass antisocial rep to cover for abandonment issues and myriad hidden insecurities, shh, don't tell.
.history. Orphan, never knew his parents, tossed around to a couple of foster homes and did a couple of years at some weird out-of-town military academy, so really, it's no wonder he's screwed up. Lives on his own now. Made his gunblade in shop class. Voted "most likely to snap and gun down random students in the hallway" in last year's yearbook, but useful to have around when things are trying to eat your brains.
.name. Squall Leonhart
.age/year. 17
.appearance. Brown hair; looks like he cut it himself with a pocketknife and no mirror, which in fact he might have done. Grey eyes. Diagonal scar down his forehead and between his eyes; you ask him how he got it, no, you ask him. Penchant for dressing in mostly black, including gloves, steel-toed combat boots, and a black leather bomber jacket with a white fur collar. Too many belts. Perpetual grim expression.
.personality. Seventeen going on forty. Loner and man of few words; sardonic and abrupt. No concept of tact and not much by way of a sense of humor that anyone is aware of. Born straight-man. Cultivates a hard-ass antisocial rep to cover for abandonment issues and myriad hidden insecurities, shh, don't tell.
.history. Orphan, never knew his parents, tossed around to a couple of foster homes and did a couple of years at some weird out-of-town military academy, so really, it's no wonder he's screwed up. Lives on his own now. Made his gunblade in shop class. Voted "most likely to snap and gun down random students in the hallway" in last year's yearbook, but useful to have around when things are trying to eat your brains.