[hider=Victor Gardner][center][img]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/a8/69/91/a86991ecec021bf5bec75b3ae132bb39.jpg [/img] [sub][color=228B22]Name:[/color] Victor Gardner [color=228B22]Age:[/color] Forty Six [color=228B22]Gender:[/color] Male [color=228B22]Profession:[/color] Gardener[/sub][/center] [indent][indent][sub][color=228B22][u] P H Y S I C A L A P P E A R A N C E [/u][/color][/sub] [indent][indent] A calm demeanor. A figure that imposed wealth and successful while boasting the man’s maturity and readiness to carry responsibilities. Broad shoulders stayed hidden behind an expensive jacket with pens in its chest pocket, ready to snatch a deal at every chance given. A pair of eyes seems to foretell everything in the future. A clean shave and well-trimmed hair paired with the perplexed look the man have as he started to the camera, giving a strong impression of a revolutionary in the making. He is a gardener. A man with a strong back. Hands that always smell of manure and scars imprinted themselves on the oversized palms and fingers. The looks that he portrayed is not a look of a calm person, but of a man who is trying to save up some meager cash for his retirement. The cleanly-shave beard and well-trimmed hair, his unwillingness to mess up his job. Often seen with a dirty brown lamp on hand and dressed as what you would expect for a gardener to dress, there is no need to go in great details for his clothes. Just imagine him in some brown trousers, some dark shirts with some holes on it, and a pair of leather gauntlets and you are good to go. [/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent] [indent][indent][sub][color=228B22][u] O C C U P A T I O N / R E L A T I O N [/u][/color][/sub][indent][indent] A gardener. That is what Victor’s job is, that is what Victor paid for. He keeps the plants watered, importing the flowers from distant lands, recommending flowers for Madame and Master of the house,... There are quite a lot of things to be done in a large estate like this. But in this house, there are so many works that one man could not hope to complete by himself in a day. So, working alongside him is Uncle John and Timothy. The first would ensure the hedge maze to be in a constant change of shapes and sizes every two months, and doing various other jobs while the other is still an apprentice. But keeping plants grows and stays healthy alone is not enough. Sometimes, there are things that aren't included in the job’s description. Hunting vermin and keeping thieves from entering the grounds are one of those. But during these days, he found himself a new task, ensuring the main gate stays shut and every lamp lit. [/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent] [indent][indent][sub][color=228B22][u] P E R S O N A L I T Y [/u][/color][/sub][indent][indent] An optimistic person who doesn’t live in a very optimistic time, that is what Victor likes to believe when seeing a homeless man or prostitute in an alleyway. He believes that he is good, but it is the environment’s fault for preventing him from giving his pity. He looks forward to the future, yet troubled by the daily needs. Victor always thinks himself as a generous man, yet getting a penny from him is harder than opening a clam. But, he was someone else when he was younger. A generous man. A courageous man. An honorable man. He was young back then. Now, he is too old, too burdened by daily needs, too calculated for the minuscule gain to see the bigger picture. His spine has bowed so much he forgot of rising up. He is old, and his temper has lost in time. But somewhere, deep inside of him, his youthful nature still lives on. All it needs is a cause. Something to fight for, something that worth sacrificing for. A call, perhaps? [/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent] [indent][indent][sub][color=228B22][u] H I S T O R Y [/u][/color][/sub][indent][indent] Born and raised under the fervent heat of imperialism, Victor was taught to believe in the idea of serving his nation. And like every child at this age and time, he yearned to taste the glory and fame, something that seems so far off for a child coming from a gardener family. So he trained hard to reach his goal. He exceeded himself, cracked every bone inside of him until they grew stronger. He enlisted in the military and came out as a soldier. And, as a soldier, he had done his part. He was there when the Indians rose during their Indian mutiny, slain the Empire enemies for good before transferred to fight the second half of the Second Opium War. Again, teaching those yellow monkeys that they can’t fight guns with swords. After that are years of encampments and explorations of Africa. For a soldier, this is an impressive profile. For a man, it is enough for babbling with his friend. But it is just not enough for Victor, he is old. Years of training had broken him down earlier than his peers. His mind dull, unfit to adapt to the change of warfare. Moreover, he usually found himself to be more … afraid of letting his troop died. Although fear is good, too much fear would only lead to nothing being done. So, at the age of thirty-two, he was released from the military. No jobs. No experience. Soon, Victor found himself lonely as his saving money slowly decreasing as the day gone by. If it wasn’t because of Uncle John, a friend of his father, who introduced him to work at the Northam Manor, maybe Victor is still jobless? Anyhow, thirteen years had passed and Victor is no longer a newcomer at this job. He now tends the kitchen garden, ensuring the vines to never grow higher than the wall, keeping vermin away that prays on the blossoms, caring for the greenhouses, ... He knew something is off in this manner. The people. The child. Even the manor itself is strange. But as long as the pay is good, Victor would still see himself returning to here. Three years. Just three more years and to hell with this place. [/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent] [indent][indent][sub][color=228B22][u] Q U I R K [/u][/color][/sub][indent][indent]None. He is a normie through and through. [/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/hider]