f.c timothée chalamet
Ares stands at a rather underwhelming 5’11
given his reputation. His physique is however
in peak condition; and has been for years.
What Res lacks in muscle mass, he more than
makes up for with his speed and agility.
His body is littered with various scars, most
have stories he can’t remember. From a distance
his skin looks delicate, but shaking hands with
this wolf will reveal the calloused, rough texture
from years of brutal use. His eyes are a forest
green colour, but are often partially covered by
loose waves of brunette hair.
Res does have a few tattoos, though not many
have any significance to him. Loose and abstract
black patterns decorate his back and upper arms;
almost like someone took a can of paint and threw
it at him from a distance. Splashing him with
long streaks of ebony ink. His ears are pierced,
and often feature small, fake black gauges, or
occasionally the card suit symbols.
As a wolf he boasts an impressive build; refined
muscles rippling under black fur. He’s not the
biggest in the pack, but he’s nothing to laugh at.
His agility is the scariest thing about him, one
second he’s in-front of you, and the next he’s
to your left, jaws wide and ready to put you
down. Most of his fur is thick enough to cover
his scars - but if you look closely as he moves,
you can see the way it’s parted awkwardly
in places the hair never grew back.
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“tuck your innocence goodnight”
“you sold your friends like guns for hire”
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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx ♛
xxxx ares “res” graves ○ transmale ○ gay[?] ○ 28 ○ sergeant-at-arms
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[ staunch ] [ abrasive ] [ intelligent ] [ unrelenting ] [ protective ] [ dangerous ]
__________________________________basic info____________________________________
Ares, or more simply just “res” (pronounced “reese”) grew up on and
off the streets of London - bouncing between fosters. He was seventeen when he
was approached by the people he would later come to call his “handlers”. Res
was an impressionable teenage boy, and with his secret, he was far too
valuable to just be left to waste away in the system. They offered him training
and, more importantly to Ares, a purpose. Perhaps if he had been given a better
upbringing, he would have said no, but he was just a boy with fire in his soul
and the drive to be great.
By the time he turned twenty, he was put to work. He was “loaned” out to people
to do their dirty work. He even had a few run ins with the government when they
decided that they didn’t want any loose ends concerning their own, connections.
His job? Anything involving violence really. He was a hitman most of the time,
though he dabbled in interrogation and intimidation. His ‘handler’ would loan him
to anyone with deep enough pockets - and Ares obeyed. He was twenty-three when
he ‘paid off’ his training. (Oh yeah, he wasn’t allowed to even consider leaving until
he had paid back every penny they had spent on him at the start). Though with no
other life skills, he was at a loss with his newfound ‘freedom’, so he continued to
work as a hitman-for-hire. The job was self-destructive, and left Ares with misshapen
morals and ideals. His social skills were at an all time low, and he was just left in
the corner to brood menacingly until his next job was handed to him.
Everything changed after he was posted in the wonderful United States of America. On
paper the job was meant to be easy, in reality it turned out to be the biggest metaphor-
ical car crash he had ever been involved in. Left with scars, chronic insomnia and no
relationships he decided enough was enough. If he stayed, he was just going to work
until he dropped. So at the end of the job, he cut ties with his contacts and went rogue.
They didn’t care of course, he had paid his debts and then some - so they let him go with
ease. It was hell at first - living alone with barely any life skills, a raging inability to cook,
no recommendations or qualifications for other jobs, and the worst social skills known to man.
It was purely by luck he was found, bruised and battered by the world. The black dogs took
him in as one of them. He owes his life to them, and they are his family through and through.
It didn’t take long for his skill set to grant him the position of sergeant-in-arms, a position
which he has gladly poured his soul into ever since.
Ares has made leaps and bounds from the person he was. He’s still fairly quiet, and his training
routine is rigorous and unforgiving but he makes sarcastic comments. He can joke with his
brothers and sisters, and he enjoys the simple things like looking at the stars, or playing a
friendly game of poker. His gaze can be unnerving, it’s a hard habit to break after all those
years, but there’s more to life for him than just meaningless violence now. However years
of conditioning and training doesn’t just dissipate into thin air, he is still the deadliest member
of the black dogs, and he has the ability to prove it.
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[ istp ] [ nov. ] [ scorpio ] [ bonfire smoke and pine ] [ autistic ] [ ex-hitman ]
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