- Invitation Status
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- One post per day
- 1-3 posts per week
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Advanced
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
NAME: Montag Devland Lo
NICKNAME: Monty
AGE: 35
GENDER: Male
SEXUALITY: Pansexual
BIRTHPLACE/CURRENT CITY: Black City, WA
CLASS: Lower
OCCUPATION: Cleaner for Hire
SPECIES: Pureblood Magi
HOUSE SANGUIS
-Blood Magic, with the basics of Fire Magic starting to be learned, and he dabbles in Black Magic-
SKILL LEVEL: Master, but focuses on Magic Tools and Potions over Spells
FAMILIAR: A basset hound named Enola (familiar power: calming aura)
- Intensely Unlucky, to the Point of Monty being Numb to it, Touch Paranoid, Probably from the Bad Luck, Pretty Wired 24/7
- Would Shank you if you were Causing him Problems or just being Annoying, his Moral Compass is quite Screwy
- Charming, in a Scruffy, Pathetic Kind of Way, like an Alley Dog stuck in the Rain
- Has Survived on Smarts, Wit, and a Good Left Hook, just Barely
- Forgets to Eat a lot, Smokes way too much, and Never gets Enough Sleep, A Hot Mess
HISTORY: Born and raised in the concrete jungle of Black City, Monty has spent most of his life moving. His family was not one to stay in one home or apartment for long, as his parents were criminals. There wasn't much they wouldn't do for a little more cash, and it was that influence that shaped Monty into the man he is. They tried to take care of their son, even teaching him the basics of the magic both of them knew, but at least according to Montag now, they were pretty useless at even the most basic things. It was when Montag was about 16 was his life drastically changed. Either a mugging went bad, someone got wind of what his parent's were doing, or bad luck, but his parents ended up corpses in some alley. That left Monty alone, and just old enough to lie about his real age and start taking care of himself. That is how it has been for all of his life, being mostly alone. He continued his studies of magic, or tried, bouncing from various members of the House Sanguis who were willing to train some street punk. While most would find the price for such magic to be things like a taxing effect upon their mana (as all Magi do, including Monty) or perhaps a few droplets of bloods, unknown to the young man, his arcane price is his own luck. The more and more he focused on being a good magi, even finding himself excelling at the art of creating charms, relics and potions, his world outside of it seemed to grow more and more miserable by the day. So his whole life has been plagued with that bad luck, nothing simply seems to work for Monty. Friendships, relationships, any opportunities, everything ends the same... with Monty left broken and beaten in some ditch, having to get himself up, shake him off, and keep moving.
In the current time, Montag works as a cleaner for hire, someone to call when things get messy; whether that be a corpse or some rich kid's drug filled parties. Monty does not ask questions, as long as the pay is good, and does his work efficiently. Most underground circles in Black City have at least heard about Monty, and is held in good regards. The man knows his stuff about making sure evidence is erased and that a scene looks like not a soul had ever been there. He spends most of his time in his shitty apartment, or working other odd jobs when the cleaning work dries up, trying to stay away from those who may take advantage of his bad luck, as they so often do. It isn't uncommon to see the man with a black eye or cuts on his face from the numerous of fights he winds up in, and most of the time, he hasn't done a thing to deserve it. It is just the way the cookie crumbles sometimes, a sad fact Montag has been taught over... and over again.
APPEARANCE: A skinny 5'8, with dark brown hair that falls just below the ears, some light scruff, has to wear glasses to read, heavy bags under his green eyes, usually found with a number of bandages and/or bruises and wounds across his body. Is somewhat fashionable, even on a budget, has a preference for suits (usually end up wrinkled and/or bloody).
EXTRA INFO: Has an Oral Fixation, Usually has a Lollipop, Cigarettes, Joint, or Pencil in-between his Lips
Loves Music, Sometimes Wishes he Wrote Music instead of Chopping up Corpses
Can Easily Roll a Cigarette or a Joint in One Hand, it is his Preferred Method
Big Fan of Painting Miniature Figures, is His Nerdiest "Secret", Only Thing he seems to Not Screw Up
Has Very Bad Insomnia, Lucky to get 4hrs of Sleep
Doesn't have Enough Time for Creamer in his Coffee, Drinks it Black
"Play stupid games, Win stupid prizes."
NICKNAME: Monty
AGE: 35
GENDER: Male
SEXUALITY: Pansexual
BIRTHPLACE/CURRENT CITY: Black City, WA
CLASS: Lower
OCCUPATION: Cleaner for Hire
SPECIES: Pureblood Magi
HOUSE SANGUIS
-Blood Magic, with the basics of Fire Magic starting to be learned, and he dabbles in Black Magic-
SKILL LEVEL: Master, but focuses on Magic Tools and Potions over Spells
FAMILIAR: A basset hound named Enola (familiar power: calming aura)
- Intensely Unlucky, to the Point of Monty being Numb to it, Touch Paranoid, Probably from the Bad Luck, Pretty Wired 24/7
- Would Shank you if you were Causing him Problems or just being Annoying, his Moral Compass is quite Screwy
- Charming, in a Scruffy, Pathetic Kind of Way, like an Alley Dog stuck in the Rain
- Has Survived on Smarts, Wit, and a Good Left Hook, just Barely
- Forgets to Eat a lot, Smokes way too much, and Never gets Enough Sleep, A Hot Mess
HISTORY: Born and raised in the concrete jungle of Black City, Monty has spent most of his life moving. His family was not one to stay in one home or apartment for long, as his parents were criminals. There wasn't much they wouldn't do for a little more cash, and it was that influence that shaped Monty into the man he is. They tried to take care of their son, even teaching him the basics of the magic both of them knew, but at least according to Montag now, they were pretty useless at even the most basic things. It was when Montag was about 16 was his life drastically changed. Either a mugging went bad, someone got wind of what his parent's were doing, or bad luck, but his parents ended up corpses in some alley. That left Monty alone, and just old enough to lie about his real age and start taking care of himself. That is how it has been for all of his life, being mostly alone. He continued his studies of magic, or tried, bouncing from various members of the House Sanguis who were willing to train some street punk. While most would find the price for such magic to be things like a taxing effect upon their mana (as all Magi do, including Monty) or perhaps a few droplets of bloods, unknown to the young man, his arcane price is his own luck. The more and more he focused on being a good magi, even finding himself excelling at the art of creating charms, relics and potions, his world outside of it seemed to grow more and more miserable by the day. So his whole life has been plagued with that bad luck, nothing simply seems to work for Monty. Friendships, relationships, any opportunities, everything ends the same... with Monty left broken and beaten in some ditch, having to get himself up, shake him off, and keep moving.
In the current time, Montag works as a cleaner for hire, someone to call when things get messy; whether that be a corpse or some rich kid's drug filled parties. Monty does not ask questions, as long as the pay is good, and does his work efficiently. Most underground circles in Black City have at least heard about Monty, and is held in good regards. The man knows his stuff about making sure evidence is erased and that a scene looks like not a soul had ever been there. He spends most of his time in his shitty apartment, or working other odd jobs when the cleaning work dries up, trying to stay away from those who may take advantage of his bad luck, as they so often do. It isn't uncommon to see the man with a black eye or cuts on his face from the numerous of fights he winds up in, and most of the time, he hasn't done a thing to deserve it. It is just the way the cookie crumbles sometimes, a sad fact Montag has been taught over... and over again.
APPEARANCE: A skinny 5'8, with dark brown hair that falls just below the ears, some light scruff, has to wear glasses to read, heavy bags under his green eyes, usually found with a number of bandages and/or bruises and wounds across his body. Is somewhat fashionable, even on a budget, has a preference for suits (usually end up wrinkled and/or bloody).
EXTRA INFO: Has an Oral Fixation, Usually has a Lollipop, Cigarettes, Joint, or Pencil in-between his Lips
Loves Music, Sometimes Wishes he Wrote Music instead of Chopping up Corpses
Can Easily Roll a Cigarette or a Joint in One Hand, it is his Preferred Method
Big Fan of Painting Miniature Figures, is His Nerdiest "Secret", Only Thing he seems to Not Screw Up
Has Very Bad Insomnia, Lucky to get 4hrs of Sleep
Doesn't have Enough Time for Creamer in his Coffee, Drinks it Black
"Play stupid games, Win stupid prizes."
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