Tarquin Gavin Macintosh

Quin

Monday, December 21, 1992

31

Male

Were

Wolf

Scottish

Dark Brunette

Blue

6'1

Pansexual

Unknown

Torrance Coombs

Tarquin grew up on the Isle of Sky, Scotland. The son of two werewolf parents, his father died when he was just a boy. Leaving most of his rearing to that of his grandfather who lived the way of many of the old clans of Weres… rougher, often ruthless, but full of loyalty to their own. They were people of the land, the Macintosh, and so it suited them to have most of their fortunes in things such a real-estate. Tarquin was a quick student and learned at a young age the ins and outs of such dealings. However, he quickly learned the ire of his family while he barreled headlong into unsure land deals and often took chances none other would take. Perhaps fortune shined on him though, for most of the time he would end out coming out on top. Scotland, though beloved to his primal side, closed in around him the older he got. And so once free of the binds of schooling, he left that place of myths and mystery behind him. Tarquin has perused the world, money has never been an issue with his family, yet he is not a boisterous man when it comes to funds. Money is not so important to him as the adventure is to his soul. He craves adventure, desires the danger of the unknown, and runs towards it fearlessly. His self-confidence is palpable, and perhaps a bit over the top in some cases. But he has never been one to back down even when it would be the best, most healthy alternative. He has been known to pick a good fight purely for entertainment. Losses come perhaps not as often as victory, but he knows well the feeling of waking up the next day with more than a few bruises and cuts, mouth still tasting of whiskey. He comes to this metropolis curious, intrigued by rumors and his lack of knowledge of this place. It is fresh and new to his senses, the cool ocean breeze salty on his tongue. For this, he might stay a while.