[hider=Vincent Cawler - The Tower]

[h3]Humanity[/h3]
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• [b]Name:[/b] Vincent Cawler

• [b]Age:[/b] 30

• [b]Arcana:[/b] The Tower

• [b]Appearance:[/b] Despite it all, Vincent still manages to be an imposing figure. At exactly 6-and-a-half feet tall, Vincent's kept himself in decent shape. Sinewy muscles trail over his body like that of a swimmer's, enough to be noticed but not look like a mountain of a man. Less can be praised about the other parts of Vincent; his face is narrow, eyes close together, thick eyebrows, and the pale complexion of someone who doesn't leave the house much.

As for the hair, it's a mangy dark mane, only barely kept in place as a short bun sitting at the nape of his neck. Poorly shaved stubble graces his chin, exemplifying Vincent's scraggliness and lack of care for himself. To wrap it all together, the man tends to dress very plainly - a simple flat-colored suit when he's on the job (unbuttoned and without a tie), and when he's not, turtleneck sweaters, loose graphic tees... really whatever he ends up finding in his dresser drawers.

But the most noteworthy part of Vincent would have to be all of his scars. From a nose that's been broken enough times to look folded over to knuckles calloused from repeated use and a jagged gash still perfectly visible across his neck, Vincent looks as if the world itself took a crowbar to him. And that's only what can be seen at a glance. Beneath his crappy clothes there's any number of old wounds crisscrossing his body, like a map etched into his skin.

• [b]Personality:[/b] There are two sides to Vincent Cawler - what he is, and what he used to be.

Let's start beneath the surface; the core of Vincent Cawler remains the same as it was a decade ago. A cocky man, arrogant of his own abilities which in turn makes him aggressive to anyone that doubts him. Prone to bursts of anger and hostility, driven by an innate desire to deal with issues using his own two hands. Vincent can be overbearing, selfish, hot-tempered... but he's loyal. If you manage to get in his good graces, you'll find him to be a great friend, someone who would always be in your corner. Just, in his own ways.

That's all a far cry to the Vincent of today, though. The once-boisterous teen has become a shadow of himself. His arrogance has turned into subservience. He rarely does anything of his own volition anymore, only moving when told to move, acting how he's told to act. Any time he's not following orders he only exists, taking care of the bare essentials. Vincent doesn't even speak most of the time, now. He's too worn down to say anything, not even when he's alone. The only part of Vincent that has an ounce of uniqueness is how he conducts himself, his motions quick and efficient and exceptionally brutal - the peek behind the curtain at the anger inside.

His old self, his [i]real[/i] self is still with him, however much he seems like someone else's puppet. It's simply been buried deep, deep down, and Vincent has no fight to go digging for it again.

• [b]Bio:[/b] All throughout Vincent's childhood, he was belittled, told off by his supremely strict parents for every little thing he did. Instead of caving into the pressure by becoming obedient, however, his upbringing made him grow self-assured, maybe a bit too much so. By 8th grade, Vincent was a proper rebel, not caring what his parents or teachers said of him or told him to do, putting himself on a pedestal of his own making. Vincent was also beginning to gain his aggressive reputation at the same time, when he shoved a fellow classmate down the stairs in an effort to win an argument. He won, of course.

Throughout high school, Vincent became quite the thug, attracting a posse of jaded, antisocial bullies who saw his give-no-shit attitude as an aspiration. One of them was Benji Roseman, a teen with much shadier actions, who Vincent found himself attached to. The two became fast friends, a solid bond forming between them over the course of their school years, sticking by one another no matter what happened.

And then came graduation day.

Vincent, 19 at the time due to being held back a year, was set to move on with his life, free from the rules that school and his parents forced upon him, with a plan to travel the country together with Benji. But Benji was nowhere to be seen. Eventually, spending most of the day away from school hunting him down, Vincent found Benji. Dead. One of his shady dealings ended with him slaughtered, and Vincent stumbled upon the culprits about the dump his body. Faced with such a tragic loss, and about to meet the same fate, Vincent lost it; he went postal, beating the criminal group into little more than bloody pulps, managing to avoid death through sheer rage.

The victory was short-lived, as backup arrived for the group just in time to subdue Vincent. The cops were arriving on the scene, forcing the rest to take Vincent with them as they fled. As it turned out, the group weren't simple gang members. The ones that killed Benji, the ones Vincent so viciously fought, worked under none other than Orland Oliva, one of Barclay's most powerful crime lords. Vincent was brought before the man himself, and rather than a swift punishment, Orland had much bigger ideas in mind for the boy. He'd singlehandedly taken on several of Orland's goons, maybe even managed to kill a couple too. Who would pass up such a promising individual for this line of work?

Ever since, Vincent had been kept firmly under Orland's heel. With threat of making his rampage known to the police and the obvious outcome of going against the man, Vincent was forced to stay within Barclay, doing Orland's bidding. It started out simple enough - valet Orland around for his dealings, deliver a package to a buyer, small time stuff - but as time went on, Vincent was made to do worse and worse. Within a year, Orland had his grip fully over Vincent, who in turn became desolate due to his new life.

Ten years had passed since that day. Now, Vincent is Orland's top enforcer, protecting the man on a daily basis and sent on dangerous jobs, both for himself and his targets. Vincent had no outs, he was under too much scrutiny and in too deep to escape. He's grown listless, doing only what he thinks he's good for: following Orland's command.

• [b]Scars:[/b] Kept on a short leash by Orland Oliva, Vincent is stuck, both in life and within himself. There's no hope for him if he stays as Orland's personal attack dog, and certainly his time was running short. One day a close call will be too close to miss. Vincent understands this on a fundamental level, unable to do anything to counter what appears to be his fate.
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[h3]Metaverse[/h3]
[center][i]The thunderous stamping of hooves and the sharp scent of gunpowder fills the air, warning of a brutality few ever lived to witness, a deep-seeded hunger for freedom, and the luck needed to survive a life fraught with danger.[/i][/center]
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