His usually bright, kind eyes were narrowed suspiciously as he emerged from the shadows of the trees, his mouth set in a hard line as he wondered what anyone could be doing out here well past midnight. He knew a certain tang in the air meant a storm was rolling in, and he could feel the beginnings of a chill that harkened a bad one at that. This far into the trees was no place for even the most experienced and well-prepared of hikers, if not for the dangers of the terrain and the threat of the storm, then for the creatures that preyed upon those lost in the woods.
"You shouldn't be out here alone. Ain't safe and I ain't looking to be held responsible for a missing person anytime soon."
STATUS : open !
LOCATION : ophelion books , any time of day .
she was technically supposed to be stacking the books in the historical fiction section , not reading what appeared to be the thickest book in the store ( it was just a fantasy novel with six sequels and two novellas , rainey was on the fourth book at the moment ) . however , she was left alone at the front and with no one around to scold her , she had allotted herself the past hour to sit and do as she pleased . just as the trolls were about to attack the main character , someone rang the bell , alerting her . “ oh hey , sorry , my bad . i promise i'm usually a better employee . what's up ? ”
Beau loved everything there was to love about books. There was just something about the feeling of getting lost in a different world, seeing through the eyes of someone else, and escaping for hours on end that had always brought him joy. It was one of many things that he admired in his creator's other creations; their ingenuity and creativity. As such, he was a regular at Ophelion Books and tried his hardest to form some sense of community in the small shop.
"Believe it or not I'm looking for a new novel to sink my teeth into," he said softly, his lips twitching up slightly at his own small joke, "Any recommendations for me this week?"
( Brandon sklenar . cis man . he/him ) — blasting it will come back by hozier down main street we’ve spotted Beaufort McGovern sporting their well-worn white stetson. the 188 year old werewolf-angel Hybrid who’s been in town for three years often can be seen playing poker, reading his Bible, horseback riding, or working as a park ranger at the forest. people say they display loyal and guarded traits, but we rather trust their vibes: The smell of oak, leather, and something distinctly wild lingering on your skin, a bite that's much worse than your bark, a desire to be understood at war with a fear of being known, a sense of peace you can only find deep in the woods. also, we’ve heard they love dark chocolate! aren’t they fascinating ?
BASIC INFORMATION:
Name: Beaufort McGovern
Nicknames/Alias: Beau
Meaning of Name/Story Behind It: At the beginning of his existence, when he did nothing but wander aimlessly in the western territories of New Mexico and Texas, he found a small convent, inside of which he met the closest thing to a mother he would ever have. She called him Beaufort, after the child her own mother had lost to tuberculosis. She housed him, fed him, and gave him the bible he still carries to this day. He's kept the name to honor and remember her piety and care.
Gender: Cis man
Pronouns: He/him
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual, he supposes. He's avoided intimacy.
Age: 188, though he's always appeared to be 32.
Birthday: He doesn't have one.
Birth Place: He became aware of his existence somewhere in the untamed mountains of modern-day Colorado.
Currently Lives: In a small cabin in the forest
Religion: Catholic
Relationship Status: single
Language Spoken and Native Language: He understands many languages but speaks English for the most part since everyone around him also tends to speak it.
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE:
Species: Angel / Werewolf hybrid. Created, not born.
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Build: Tall, muscular, imposing.
Height: 6'4
Weight: 220 lbs
Facial Hair: A short beard
Distinguishing Features: Fangs, a vaguely reddish halo of light around his head you can only see in certain lights.
BIOGRAPHY:
Beaufort was created by The Lord to be not judge, nor jury, but a holy executioner, and so Beaufort is. As an angel, he feels as though he truly has minimal free will, but unlike others of his kind, he was cursed from creation with his affliction and so with it has come the eternal internal struggle between his two natures. Mercy and retribution, kindness and savagery, forgiveness and violence...
He's never understood why he's been given such a burden but he bears it regardless, because, in truth, what else can he do?
He's wandered about the world for 188 years: an extremely short amount of time for one of his kind; so he knows that he has an eternity to overcome his most base, godless desires, not that the knowledge makes the struggle any easier. Still, he's found a place for himself in the forest where he can find a certain semblance of peace, at least until The Lord calls upon him again to be his holy judgment, not with a flaming sword, but with claws and jagged teeth and a crimson-stained maw.
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