Viewing profile - Rhys Germain

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Adventurer
Username:
Rhys Germain
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Character:
Rhys Germain
Gender:
Male
Character Portrait:
Character Portrait
Place of Origin:
Merthyr Tydfil, Wales
Profession:
Inventor, mechanic, all-purpose Mister Fix-It, Knight
Appearance:
A dream made flesh... For years, that was how men and women had described Rhys Germain—until they got to know him. Anything more than a single night would always reveal him to be a difficult, complex, and eccentric man.

Quicker with an insult than a compliment, he'd never win any popularity contests. But then, he wasn't trying. He made no apologies for himself. He was what he was: a loud-mouthed perfectionist full of criticism and sharp, sarcastic wit. Mercurial to his core, he could easily flash between a crooked grin and a scowl, between wild laughter and violent anger. He was forever plagued with frustration.

Never seen without a tattered Moleskine journal, he was always thinking, plotting, drawing. These important, progressive ideas, he couldn't let them go without record. Anything could trigger his muse and set it to rattling and clanking—he was always prepared for this. (Gods help you if he wasn't!) And then at night, once he'd filled pages with Dreams, he'd retreat into his workshop and make magic happen.

He had an uncanny knack with machines. Microwave ovens, radios, VW buses—if it could be broken, it could be repaired, and he was just the man to do it. Even without the proper tools, he seemed to be able to make anything work. With a curse, or with a baleful glare, the dead machine always perked right back up.

Prototypes littered the shelves of his living space. Tiny robots took over the coffee table and drank the coffee made by an iPod-turned-barista. Rhys believed in the fantastic—and in his own power to actualize it. To -do- it. These little playthings, the toys he showed off, they proved his abilities. But the man had larger, darker aspirations at the end of the day...

Physically, he wasn't a large man—slight of build and a couple of inches shy of six feet tall with a shock of waved, nearly-black hair and an angular face—but he had star-shot eyes, eyes the color of iron pierced through with light. They burned hot or they burned cold, but always they burned.
Skills:
Owner and operator of Classic Customs, an auto shop specializing in rare and antique automobiles.

[Circa 2007.]

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Joined:
Tue Oct 15, 2019 1:28 pm
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