Bluetommy — Roleplayer Guild

I decided to go Canadian Métis, so half-French half-Indian.

Lauren Cartier

Lauren dressed in his grandfather's clothes

Character basics

Name: Lauren Cartier

Nicknames/alias: "Matey"

Age: 34 (Debatable, depending on the actual year)

Place of birth & ethnicity: Red River Colony, Rupert's Land, Canada. Métis.

Gender: Male

Occupation: Bounty hunter, Soldier (Formerly), Huntsman (Formerly).

Character appearance & personality

Apperance: Lauren is lanky and tall, he has an average build. He is long-haired and has short facial hair. He has light skin and almond eyes, his hair is a dark black. Lauren has a large scar on his lower back, and has a rife bullet located somewhere in his lower abdomen. He has long hair, reaching his shoulders. He has a round face and high cheekbones. 

Clothing: Lauren often wears a small black jacket with cuffed sleeves over a similarly black waistcoat, a gold pocket watch chain hung over it. He has a brown gun-belt on his waist for his revolver. He wears black trousers and brown boots. He also wears a large black brimmed hat. When in Indian territories, he wears an outfit once worn by his grandfather, a Blackfoot elder. When in this outfit, the only thing that prevents him from appearing fully native is his white skin. It is comprised of a loose-fitting shirt, chaps, and moccasins. 

Personal style: Lauren is often sharply dressed, wearing suits and jackets that are in fashion in Europe. When riding or performing a bounty, he trades his fashionable attire for dark brown ponchos with beige trim, or worn dusters, already stained with a plethora of substances.

Personality: Lauren is taciturn and never talks about his past, he dislikes racism towards Indians due to his descent and especially dislikes bandits. Lauren is spiritual and often quick to bond with members of the Indian community. Lauren speaks the language of his people and French, and has little ability with English. He speaks English with a heavy accent and many pauses due to his unfamiliarity with the language's many confusing rules and clauses, as such, he prefers to stay quiet, when he does speak, it is often in monosyllabic words. Lauren is exceptional at hold-em, and is often found at a saloon table when not on a bounty. Lauren has little empathy, caring only on what he is about to do next, and not caring about anyone else his actions might affect.

Habits: When angry, Lauren's already heavy Quebecois accent becomes even heavier, and he rants in both his native tongues so fast not even native speakers understand him. He also has a habit of pushing against his lower back when distressed due to his scar.

Skills and items

Regular life skills: Lauren is a good tracker, and exceptional at riding, able to guide his horse with just his knees when aiming his rifle. He can barter well when he is pushed, and he is quite charismatic, owing to his handsome face and smooth French accent.

Combat skills: Lauren is an incredible marksman, especially when armed with a repeater or other rifle. He has a good quick-draw and is alright in a brawl.

Items on your person: Lauren carries a Cookson repeater and a Colt SAA, he also carries a beaver-fur hat, a gift from his father which he does not wear for risk of damaging it. He often has enough money on his person to afford a good horse. He also carries a hatchet and a hunting knife.

Additional stuff: Lauren has four sets of European style clothing, his bounty hunting duster and poncho, and his grandfather's outfit for visits to native territories.

History

What brings you to Haylliesburg: Lauren arrived at Haylliesburg a few months ago, stopping on his way to a bounty for a meal. Remembering the location, he returned recently to have some downtime before heading back out after bounties.

Your life before coming to Haylliesburg: Lauren Cartier was born in the Red River Indian territory to a native woman and a Voyageur by the name of Laurent. Lauren was raised mostly by his mother as a child, spending his time amongst the other Métis children and sometimes joining with the other Indians when they had ceremonies. Lauren especially idolized his grandfather, an elder among the Blackfoot who still made time to go out buffalo hunting with the young men. During his childhood, his father would periodically come around to check on him and teach him of the European culture, much to his mother's chagrin. At the age of four, his grandfather was shot by a bandit, his body dragged around by his horse so much it was barely recognizable. Soon after, his village was raided and his mother was killed, along with four in five of the village's inhabitants. Lauren was raised for four months by one of the now-homeless young hunters, Tired Condor, until his father, shocked and crying, came upon the two, shooting Condor dead due to a miscommunication. Lauren had already been through so much, and his father wasn't surprised to see the youth become walled-off and hard to talk to. Lauren's father, still a young man, retired to Quebec in order to raise the child. As a young man, Lauren returned to his home in the west, gathering the remaining members of his village together and holding a solemn vigil for the passed. A few years later, the Red River Rebellion broke out. Lauren enlisted into Louis Riel's army, serving on the firing squad of Thomas Scott, though he did not fire a single shot, instead fleeing south on horseback with all his possessions and reinventing himself as "Matey", a corruption of "Métis", for his ethnicity. He began serving as a bounty hunter and patron of the many Indian villages still thriving in the west.

Extra

Anything else you feel needs to be added, but doesn’t fit anywhere else. 
Lauren has also been known as Matey Scott and Al Revoir.
Lauren prefers to not introduce himself by name, instead going as Matey most of the time.
Lauren is a father, though he doesn't care for his children, and with many, isn't even aware they exist.

Sample Post

Paul gasped, not out of pain, but out of surprise as he was forcibly dragged through the air by the wind, he smiled as he smashed through the first building.

I'm liking her more and more every minute.

Wait, no, angry, grr, fight time, kill the Nazi scum! Paul gave himself a small cheer, which was interrupted by his interception of a second building.

Rolling through the air, Paul attempted to use his powers to slow himself, managing to slow himself to a point where he managed to stop himself going right through another building. Pulling himself away from the cracked wall, Paul began strategizing. He was facing a threat strong enough to send him flying, and his suit weighed upwards of two hundred pounds. This wasn't an opponent for a normal human, but from the short time he spent watching the fight against the speedster, both the person in heavy metal armor and the one who had a torch on his chest were powered, perhaps just as powerful as Fission himself, even if they lacked the invulnerability his abilities gave him. Paul wasn't the smartest, he thought that the solution to this problem was to have everyone hit her really hard, but he understood that perhaps there were better strategies, even if he himself couldn't make one up.

Now he just had to make it back before anything else happened. He was ready, he prepared himself for...

What?

Crap, how was he going to get back?

Uhh... maybe I coul-

The back of Paul's suit exploded with an incredible fury, throwing him so fast he could barely let out a gasp before he was thrown through the air at uncontrollable speeds, smashing right back through the buildings he had been sent through. He knew his abilities were nigh-uncontrollable, but that was something he had never expected, this was dangerous, if he was near someone he cared about? Jesus Christ... if he was in the middle of Berlin though, he'd be happy then. Just the though of turning a group of Americans into a fine paste was enough for Paul to rethink his powers, whether they had truly been a gift, he already hated what he'd become, but now the powers his new form granted were scaring him.

A thought for later, he supposed. Coming back to reality, he noticed a wall coming ever closer. Frowning, he flipped through the air in an attempt to slow himself, but it was for naught, as his back into the wall and he fell to the ground head-first, being buried in bricks from the wall he smashed into. He stumbled to his feet, turned to his left, and got really, really, sad, as he again saw the woman, too close for comfort.

"Piss."

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