NAME: Grimbaud
SEX: Male
AGE: Unknown (birthdays have never been all that important to him). Appearance-wise he falls into the "middle age" category, falling somewhere between 30 to 50 years old.
APPEARANCE:
- Grimbaud stands about five feet, one inch (155cm) tall and weighs about 130lbs (59kg) soaking wet. He has a lean, wiry build and is much stronger than one would expect from looking at him.
- Grim's hair and beard are mostly reddish-brown in color, though he is going silver at his temples and has white streaks in his beard nowadays. His hair is thick and curly and is usually worn long for a man (past his shoulders); he often has it pulled back from his face in a messy half-ponytail, especially when he's working on something. Grim usually sports a very extensive beard (it usually reaches past his belly button), which he often braids with things he finds "interesting", including but not limited to: shiny beads, flowers or plants, bits of jewelry, trinkets, small bells, and even the occasional bone/fossil. One never knows what they might find in there at any given time, and many of Grim's old friends can tell a story or two about "the time Grim's beard junk saved us".
You'll note the use of the term usually: Grim recently had an experiment go awry and it ended up burning half his hair/beard off (much to his dismay) so he's forced to make due with short hair and a cropped beard for now. You'll often catch him tugging at his beard in frustration, wishing it would grow back in faster.
- Grim's eyes are a warm honey brown color that are very expressive. They always seem to be twinkling with mischief or narrowed in intense contemplation, and sometimes both at the same time! He possesses a variety of gear, including several pairs of glasses with different magnification options (different lenses that can be dropped down over the eye) and, his personal favorite, a pair of very thick-lensed goggles. As a result of this abundance of eyewear, Grim's eyes are almost always magnified by several times, making him look like a big-eyed bug.
- Grim's skin is tanned, but it's clear the tan was hard earned and likely to be rather temporary. Naturally his skin is quite pale, and he burns easily. He has quite a few scars, mostly on his hands and face, from his experiments. Though he'd very rarely (if ever) be seen without a shirt, he bears a vaguely sun-shaped scar directly over his heart (from a gunshot and correlating powder burns).
- Under all the hair, Grim is actually a decently handsome fellow. This often goes unnoticed because of his size and demeanor, however.
DEFECTS: Grim has reduced vision in his left eye and has some hearing issues on the same side due to "mishaps" (explosions). For the most part, the reduction in his hearing isn't easily noticed, but he does tend to experience auditory anomalies (such as persistent ringing, or hearing noises that don't actually exist) from time to time.
PERSONALITY:
THE INVENTOR
Grim is a self-proclaimed "genius inventor, tinkerer, and all around 'fix it' fellow". He loves nothing more than taking new items apart and putting them (mostly) back together, especially when he thinks he can "improve" the original design in some way. Grim dabbles in quite a few different areas and has done a little bit of everything including food/cooking improvements, weapons, and children's toys. Oddly enough, Grim's true genius appears only while he is asleep, when he tends to dream in blueprints. He's even created items in his sleep before! Grim also has the unfortunate habit of spontaneously combusting items, not through any magical means but because he's either not paying enough attention or he doesn't fully understand the properties of the items he's working with (he's the sort to haphazardly mix things together to see what he gets and learns through experimentation rather than carefully studying).
THE MAN
Grimbaud is highly intelligent and curious, but also easily distracted and rather forgetful. He's the sort who can go for days, forgetting to eat or sleep, when he's invested in something particularly exciting. He is prideful, especially when it comes to his intelligence, and is very susceptible to flattery. Grimbaud loves trading, especially when it comes to haggling over prices, and often says that "everything comes with a price, it's whether you're willing to pay it or not that's the question". Grim is naturally neither courageous nor cowardly; he has a will to keep on living no matter what it takes and responds accordingly, be it to run and hide or stand and fight. Grim is naturally quite gruff, but he's hardly ever intentionally cruel (and even then, he's only rude when he feels it's justified). He's quite inept at being kind; his idea of comforting is to pat a person's back awkwardly and put them to work, and his compliments always come out sounding halfway insulting, but he really does try. Under all the bluster and grumble and apparent selfishness is a kind, if a bit crooked, heart.
PLAYER NAME: Fennic
SAMPLE:
[note: sample contains some adult language]
He was floating in the darkness, mind and body detached from one another. He knew he'd been badly injured, could remember the sting and burn in that first second before the shadow overcame him, but in that moment he didn't feel a thing. Grimbaud's mind drifted for a time, lost in memories and thoughts, but when he heard her weeping it was a call he could not ignore. Focusing his mind, he dropped himself from the darkness and back, in the realm of the living. He dropped into being in the center of his workshop, blinking at the destruction that awaited him. Blood stained the center of the threadbare carpet, sinking into the burnholes to spread across the floor. Vials of miscellaneous substances lay shattered on the floor, their contents mixing here and there with blood and grime. Shaking his head in disappointment - it would take him weeks, if not years to replace everything - he focused his attentions on the sound of Serrakey's helpless sobs. With a sigh, he adjusted his belt and headed down the steps and out the front door. There she sat, his nineteen-year-old assistant and, though he'd never admit it aloud, surrogate daughter. Serra had been with him for just over eleven years, her father had incurred massive amounts of gambling debts to the wrong people, and had been intent on selling the then eight-year-old girl down at the docks. Knowing what fate awaited her there, Grim had negotiated the purchase of the girl with the intent of selling her off again - there were always barren lasses looking for children, particularly grubby little girls, he'd thought - but as soon as he'd brought her in he'd forgotten all about getting rid of her. She'd proven invaluable, helping look after the house (and him) until she was old enough to go to the Academy, and she now worked part time with him when she wasn't busy studying.
"Now, now, lass, that's enough of that. They didn't take anything we can't replace," he chided, sitting down beside her. Serra did not respond, and Grimbaud frowned. She always replied, even if he couldn't figure out a damn thing she was saying through the tears. He reached for her and found his hand went straight through her knee. Serra jumped and shivered, lifting a tear-stained face to her surroundings, but her eyes never landed on him, never lit with familiarity like they usually did. His frown deepened. Had he somehow managed to make himself invisible? Grim scratched absently at his head, looking about the gardens, and... Then he saw it. Grim sighed and shook his head. "Well, ain't that something."
There, on the cobblestones, sat a body shrouded in an oversized quilt. Though he could see nothing but the boots, there was a part of him that recognized it immediately. I'm dead, he thought, utterly bemused when it held the ring of truth. Well, damn it all, how did that happen? Oh, yes, the men who'd wanted his Device. Grim sat back against the step, his eyes misty and far away for a moment, before he spoke again. He knew now that Serra couldn't see or hear him, but the words were clawing at his throat.
"It's yours now, you know," he said to the girl. "The house, the grounds, all of it. You'd best not kill my roses, girl, after all that work we did. You'll want to feed Bugeye twice a day now, don't forget." - Bugeye, their old mangy mutt, lifted his head from his paws and groaned as if he'd heard him before nudging his head under Serra's arm. - "You'll keep up on your studies, I have no doubt about that... And, Serra, I... I wanted to say..."
Grim shifted around a bit, cleared his throat, tapped his toes, and finally, in an explosion of words, finished with: "That I will find your absence to be both an inconvienence and..." - his voice became strangled, thick with emotion - "a distraction."
Had Serra been able to hear him, she would have smiled. She'd have heard in his words the ones he couldn't bring himself to say: I love you, Serra, and I will miss you. As he watched in silence, a doorway appeared there, in the middle of the gardens. Pale blue-white light spilled from it, and Grim knew it was time. He looked at his assistant, then back at the doorway. "Well, no point in putting it off, I suppose. Best be getting on with it."
He slapped her knee affectionately, ignoring the fact it went right through her again, and popped to his feet. As he took his final step into the doorway, he cast a glimpse over his shoulder and found both Serra and Bugeye watching him. Grim waved once, before a voice in his head said, Time to go.
"Where are we off to?" he asked, as the light began to wind around him.
Somewhere new, replied the voice. Grim smiled, though it was a little hard through the tears he was pretending not to feel.
"That sounds just fine." |
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