BLACK, roland amos / phoebus

[roland black]

NAME: roland amos black / phoebus.

GENDER: male.

AGE: twenty.

SPECIES: feli.

SEXUALITY: heterosexual.

JOB: chef.

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HAIR: Unfortunately for Roland, he seems to have inherited his mother’s hair gene in the sense that his hair is thick and difficult to manage. A dark brown in colour, its actual hue is nice to admire and look at, but making it look reasonably presentable in the mornings is a chore and an impossible task in itself, something that has taken its toll on him so much that he prefers to keep it short in length whenever possible. The shorter it is, the easier it is to manage, although it should be noted that he would never shave all his hair off - he’d look plain silly if he did that.

You could say that the twenty year old’s hair has a mind of its own. It sticks up everywhere with little help and coaxing from gel, and always seems to look messy, even if he’s spent ten minutes trying to get it to flatten. His hair is very much the bane of his life, however nice its colour might be - suffice to say, Roland has a love/hate relationship with his hair. It behaves on the odd occasion, I must admit, but for the most part, his hair is rather unruly and refuses to do anything apart from be a general pain in the neck.

EYES: Simply-put, Roland’s eyes are blue. They are not icy blue, deep blue, pale blue, mysterious blue, enchanting blue, captivating blue—they are just blue, even if they are a bit watery in colour. There’s nothing amazing about them, there are no flecks of even lighter blue or darker blue in a ring around his irises, and his eyes don’t change colour. They don’t glow when he’s angry, they don’t seem cold and detached, they aren’t emotionless - in fact, his eyes are quite friendly, if I have to describe them in such a manner.

It annoys him when people associate blue eyes with all sorts of whimsical and wonderful adjectives and fantasy-like words and phrases. Yes, his eyes are emotive and you can see some amount of feeling and expression in them, but they aren’t necessarily the ‘windows into his soul’ - nor would he want them to be, because he’d very much like to think that no one can see his soul (not that he believes in things like that). He frowns upon poetic imagery when describing eyes, and tends remind people that his eyes are not amazing, they are not wonderful and they most certainly are not breath-taking: they are blue, and that is that.

FACE: If you’re particularly unlucky, you might hear Roland complaining about his skin. Unlike his sister, he did not inherit his father’s dark complexion; instead he ended up with his mother’s fair skin, something that he absolutely abhors. His skin is pale in colour, but not to the point where he looks ill and deprived of sleep, and almost creamy in hue. He prefers to call it waxy, even if it does have a subtle hint of peach to it, and cannot stand it.

Whilst others tan easily in the summer and are happy to spend hours upon hours sunbathing (whenever they get the chance, of course), the twenty year old has the misfortune of having very sensitive skin. He gets burnt easily, and frequently feels that no amount of suntan lotion, however big or small, can protect him from the sun; even spending one or two hours out in the garden leaves him with a sore face and a burning neck, and it frustrates him greatly.

Moving on from this, the male’s face does not have a proud, chiselled look to it. It’s rather long, but rounds off neatly at the chin, and could probably be described as ‘rounded’ (if no other word could be found). Although Roland tends to wander around with clean-shaven features, he is very much a lazy individual, and so you can often see a five o’clock shadow or a small, messy amount of facial hair around his chin and trailing up to his ears as a result of this.

It should be noted, however, that he prefers to look clean-shaven. He doesn’t always shave, I must admit, but when he does, it’s a welcome sight and it feels much nicer. His facial hair, when he does grow it (and it’s never that long when he does - it could never pass as a fully-fledged beard) it light brown in colour, a little bit ginger at the roots, and is probably more manageable than the hair upon his head - much to his chagrin.

BUILD: There is nothing painfully noticeable about Roland in the first place. He is, in all honesty, a ‘normal’-looking individual (and he is quite content to say that there is such a thing as normal, even if various teenagers in many different countries have a tendency to deny this in an attempt to seem unique) and there really is nothing about him that makes him stand out. He’s not to tall or too short, he’s not clinically obese, yet nor is he worryingly skinny, and if I’m being perfectly truthful, he’s rather plain to look at and he certainly wouldn’t make you look back over your shoulder if you passed him on the street.

He doesn’t mind being another boy-next-door, however; the male is perfectly happy with his inability to stand out and catch someone’s eye - he never did like to be the centre of attention, anyway. At 5’10”, Roland isn’t all that tall, and his build is often labelled as stocky. He’s not quite sure why; it’s not like he’s 5’3” and bulging with muscles, so he generally doesn’t understand why he’s seen as some sort of muscled-up terrier in the sense that he is (apparently) built with more muscle than anything else.

Even so, this is not the case. Although he’s not overwhelmingly lanky and unable to be called a beanpole or any other nickname that comes with being tall, he’s not a skinny little runt, either, as previously stated. You could say that Roland is a delicate balance of the two; he’s not too short, but he doesn’t intimidate people with his brawn - what little there is, of course. The only noticeable thing about his build is his broad shoulders, and even then, they’re relatively in proportion to the rest of him. As for the man’s muscle, you can probably spot it around his arms and shoulders - it’s not that obvious anywhere else.

OTHER: There is nothing particularly interesting about Roland that would catch your eye - nothing on show, of course. On his back, just below his left shoulder blade, is the scratch-turned-scar he received from an unusually large house cat his friend owned.

CREATURE FORM: Majestic, powerful, feared—these are all adjectives to describe the ‘king of the beasts’, otherwise known as the lion. Ironically enough, Roland is nothing like the mentioned adjectives, but his creature form is just that: a lion.

Broad-shouldered and dusty gold in colour, the lion is rather slim in build - scrawny, you could say - but has definite bulk around its shoulders and legs. It generally appears to be malnourished, although this is not the case, and its mane is a sandy brown in hue, slightly darker than its coat. The lion’s eyes are yellow, and its mane almost looks like a Mohican in the sense that it looks like it’s been brushed up by some invisible hand of nature. For a visual image, click here.

PORTRAYED BY: james mcavoy.

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LIKES:

DISLIKES:

FEARS:

FLAWS:

MERITS:

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FAMILY:

SHORT HISTORY: Roland’s history, much like the man himself, is as uninteresting and dull as watching paint dry on a wall. He was born to Declan and Holly Black some twenty years ago, and was their only son and child - not that he particularly minded. Throughout his childhood, Declan became a renowned lawyer who started to push his son towards the route of law and defending the innocent (and the guilty, but Declan never told Roland this until he was about ten) whilst his mother, Holly, simply looked after her son and reminded her husband not to spoil him.

After firmly telling his father that, no, he did not want to be a lawyer - he was much more interested in the food industry, Roland completed his school career and trained as a chef. Just after he left school, a few months shy of becoming nineteen, a friend’s curiously large housecat (called Maurice, or so he remembers) attacked him without reason one day. Well, he claims it was without reason, but perhaps things would have been different if he hadn’t been determined to get the fat animal off the settee he wanted to sit on.

You could say that things changed for him after that. He started to become more aware of his surroundings; better hearing, sharper eyesight - things like that - and Roland thought it was just his body adapting to the city life. Unfortunately, when he found that he was transforming into a lion, he was not pleased, and blacked out from the pain of it. When he woke up, an elderly woman was looking at him, muttering something about Maurice and “another Feli”.

He didn’t quite understand what she was going on about, but she treated his scratch and took him under her wing as a mentor (of sorts). With the woman, who called herself Giselle, Roland was educated in how to control his Feli side and adjust to his new life and frequent transformations. During the course of the months in which he learned all this, he got himself a job in a restaurant slash café as their chef, and has been working there ever since.

Aged nineteen and a half (roughly, he can’t remember how old he was, but he was definitely nineteen), he had his first run-in with a Cani. They fought, lion against Bloodhound, and Roland skulked away with a few cuts and bruises, as did the Cani. Giselle nursed him back to health (through tea, hot chocolate and biscuits) and informed him that the Cani were his enemy, as were the hunters. Two days later, he was on his way to visit her and when he got to her house - bam, she wasn’t there. The foul smell in the air was more than human, but not Feli or Cani, and he was quick to learn from a neighbour (another Feli and a close friend of Giselle’s) that the old woman had been taken and destroyed by the hunters.

Since then, Roland has been working in the restaurant (slash café) as its resident chef, and keeping a low profile. He’s estranged himself from his family, unwilling to let them find out what he is for fear of them turning him in and consequently being the cause of his death, and he keeps himself to himself a lot of the time, mulling over the murder of Giselle and what he’s going to do with himself now that he’s a Feli.


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RUDO | FEMALE | FIFTEEN | RPGC

[A D M I N]

ACCEPTED!
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