Name: Everett Goldencross
Age: 36
Appearance:



"How about we try talking, first of all?" The frames of his perfectly prismic; translucent glass gleamed by the ray of sunlight from the stained, round window that arched the temple. "Charm them with festivities, good food and plain old niceties to soften their anxiousness?" A leather-wrapped index finger adjusted the bridge of his frames that hid the chilling blue sapphires behind it. "Or... I'll do it myself. Its quieter to move as one as opposed to a group." He swayed his head as to adjust the slivery, chipped and stacked peanut hair. Cloaked in brass-lined blue coat was an intricate insignia of a cross within a gear-like halo made of pure gold was pinned carefully by the left collar. Hung by one of the gear's teeth was a gold chain bearing a shard of blue crystal. He stood up, almost as tall as the 6 and a half foot grandfather clock that let out a piercing cry behind him. "Don't worry. I'll do any job at my best. You don't need to doubt that. So long as you can keep your end of the deal too." He slid those leathery-wrapped hand and his phone into the slits of his dark trousers as he walked past the group of men behind him. Dead men.

Personality:
Everett loves to be as imaginative, independent and conscientious as much as possible. He does function well in groups and excels most when he's able to work on his own. Due to his often friendly tone, he has and will create a lot of acquaintances.

History:
He hailed from Falcon's Peak. An uncharted part of the world which everyone tends to get lost in. This too affected Everett. Ever since he left Falcon's Peak, he could never come back. Most of his past was also taken from him when he left-- as if amnesiac and all that was is his muscle memory and his name. Everett Goldencross. He traveled his days in the world as a hired mercenary and muscle. For many years had he done a great job handling all kinds of weapons-- which now brought him to his current occupation; an assassin. An assassin of what? Well, whomever has enough money and hate. Basically. For ten years he did contract jobs and the like until recently he caught wind of a certain Tower capable of granting any wish that one desired and immediately felt a longing inside of his soul for his home. Why had he left? Who is he truly? He spent what is necessary to get himself by the footsteps of the Tower in order to obtain what he once lost.

Abilities: None (To Be Confirmed with GM)

Inventory: None