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Clarence Walker
{ALIASES}"Meatface", "Medic!"
{AGE}32
{GENDER, SEXUALITY}Male, homosexual
{SPECIES/ETHNICITY}Human, Connlaothian
{HEIGHT/BUILD}5'9", stocky
{OCCUPATION}Physician, "keeping you idiots alive and on most of your two legs."
{RESIDENCE}Anywhere but home.
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IN DEPTH STUFF
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{PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION}Build; Of average height, it's more Clarence's build that is intimidating. Thick with muscle, Clarence has broad shoulders and strong arms, with a firmly built core leading to powerful legs. He has a thick brow and a stern jaw, leading him to appear like he's scowling most of the time. Which he actually is, but that's besides the point.
Color; Like many Connlaothians, Clarence has a very pale complexion, prone to burning and only rarely tanning. His hair is a pale, ginger-red, which he wears in long waves and periodically braids back to keep it out of his face while working. He has a fair amount of scruff, his beard a darker ginger than the rest of his hair. He keeps this cut short, rather than having a massive beard that might get in the way of delicate work.
Alterations; Life has not been easy for Clarence. His face is heavily marred by several scars, costing him the use of his left eye. The socket is empty, and he'll usually wear a patch or strip of cloth over it to keep it free of dirt and also prevent as much staring as possible. His body is similarly pocked and knicked, with the worst being a deep puncture wound on his right ribcage. His hands are rough and sword-calloused, and the skin of his knuckles are prone to cracking.
Modifications; Clarence doesn't possess any tattoos or piercings.
Dress; As is the typical fashion in Connlaoth, Clarence wears a high-necked leather vest overtop of a long sleeved shirt, both of which have been heavily patched and repaired in several places. It's clear his clothes have seen better days, with his shirt being a dingy grey where the original fabric can be seen, and his pants showing considerable overlap of stitching. His jacket is more patch than jacket, with mismatched leather pieces. His boots are worn, and he takes great pains to keep them in working order. The only thing he treats with as much care as his boots is his satchel bag, where he keeps many of his instruments. He also wears a small linen bag stuffed with fresh herbs on a leather thong around his neck.
{PERSONALITY}Gruff, direct, stern, sarcastic, determined, caring, outspoken, charitable, tough, intelligent
Clarence will absolutely inform you of your stupid-ass decisions even as he's sewing you back up, he does not have a gentle bedside manner.
Fun Facts!:- Light sleeper, and broadly dependent on tea and tobacco to keep himself moving.
- Aggressively clean.
- Loves cats.
- Carries a witchbottle wherever he goes, topped with a coin featuring a saint, though the features are well worn.
{SPECIAL ABILITIES}Clarence is a master of the art of battlefield medicine, and knows exactly how to take a limb off whenever necessary.
{RELATIONSHIPS}A mother and father, aunts and uncles and cousins. Clarence hasn't seen any of them in many, many years.
His horse, Echo!
{HISTORY}A deserter, Clarence will be put to death should he ever set foot in his country again. Though, if you were to get him drunk enough to ask about it, he'd tell you it's better to be exiled than to make a home in hell. Nowadays, he moves from place to place as a traveling physician, tending to sign on with ships and trading crews in brief contract work rather than settle down into a stationary practice.
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