George Goodfellow

IN REGARDS...

George Goodfellow is not this man's real name, but then again in the shattered wake of his life- what really is? He is older but by all means not worn by his age; instead he wears it. No matter the visage that seems to kiss the eyes of those that look upon him- he is a stoic, regal, and an effervescent individual. It is almost as if the weight of the world sits on his shoulders, but alas that world is a prick of dandelion fuzz. There is worry there, paranoia, a violent rattle of fear- but a firm sense of knowing seems to bash that into smithereens. He is just another shadow amongst the others, but in turn one of the deepest shades one could ever imagine.

MASK

Tall would be the first word people would use to describe him. Yet that height is not abnormal, or profound; but the most remarkable features that he owned. His skin wasn't pale, but it wasn't tan either. His hair is coal black and is long, but not more so than any dandy that might frolic about. Those eyes are a honey color, but hidden by the brim of his hat. He is older, but not so much that you wonder why he doesn't have a woman in the crook of his arm. Another fine feature would be the fact that he was well dressed; always well-tailored and well-groomed. That comes with hat, gloves, and even proper fanciful accouterments.  He has a sharp face, an aquiline nose, feline eyes and thick lips; his heritage seems mottled but not in a sense that many would turn their nose down at it. Needless to say George is neither gorgeous nor is he mundane; but a perfectly grey in-between.

MIEN

Terrifying, but not in the fashion one would think. Skin as black as night, and eyes like lost little stars amongst them. Streaks of this pale light slide down from his orbs and garner the swell of his cheeks before disappearing behind his collar. These astral hued veins garner his body here and there, and offer barely the only color to his form. Those long locks are like ink and barely discernible from his flesh as they rest smoothly against it. Honestly most of his features have been nearly bleached out from the sheer darkness, but choice ones stand out in hopes of garnering fear in their emergence. Fingers don't form blunt little ends with curved nails, but instead sharp little claws that look like they could serrate flesh with the right move but instead most days are just used to rap against counters out of boredom. He has a long and lithe tail that usually just slides around his waist and rests there almost like a sash of sorts. He has been called a demon on many an occasions, but he doesn't quite find that description suitable considering he isn't downright maleficent or tyrannical. Yet he doesn't correct anyone- because what would be the fun in that.

IN A FEW WORDS...

While George's court is referred to as the Court of Sorrow it is hard to imagine any living being- changeling or no- living in nothing but despair and depression. He has an avid array of emotions which are curtly at his disposal. His human half brings what light there is to himself while his fae half is more than content to spread it with darkness. He is both sides of the coin and every positive trait is speckled with a 'but'.

 

He is charming whether or not one wants to admit it or not. The man finds words quick, and his tongue is barbed with poised honey and hidden vinegar. It is a talent of his to be as warm as the sun when in truth he is being as calculating as ice. George has a slow temper, but a quick judgement. There is also humor there but it is usually at the expense of someone else's folly. There isn't a flame of warmth overly evident within his form, but it isn't as if it doesn't exist. It is apparent that he loves life- because he goes out of his way to keep himself and those in his court safe from what the Gentry could unleash upon them; and yet he disposes of the ones that stand in his way. 

George is an almost unsolvable puzzle, but that is probably for the best. 

POWERS

Limited Omnipotence: One might just call this some form of heightened senses, but it is a bit more than that. He can sense the beings around him and pick and choose what conversations that he wants to listen too, and what sights he wants to see in extreme detail. While his body picks up all of it- he has to filter through it to actually have any cognizance of the information that he has acquired. 

Shadow Passage: Something that is a give-in due to his appearance. Either way George can bleed into the shadows and use it to get through tangible objects; for instance under locked doors, through cracks in windows, or even to not to take the blow of a weapon. He is incorporeal during this time, but not invincible as even taking this form drains a lot of his power and isn't immune to other powers. It also requires there to be shadows in both his beginning area and the one he wishes to reach. So he only uses it when need be.

The Best Place to Hide a Tree: is in a forest. This ideal works the same with George when it comes to being out and about in the normal world. While many can see a changeling's true form- his is harder to discern. Actually truth be told if he uses the power to its' full effect it is near impossible to tell him from the mundane. Of course he only uses it minimally in hopes of conserving his glamour, but still he is hard to tell from others almost as if there is something different about him but many can't decide what it is.

WEAPONS AND TOKENS

Mnemosyne's Eye: A small white pearl-like jewel that has embedded in a metal mantle and worn as a necklace. Inevitably it give's George the ability not to forget, but instead to remember everything. While this isn't an overly powerful token it does have its' uses given his own powers. It also reminds him of when he makes dire mistakes so he won't go about making them again.

Shade's Fang: A small but very sharp dagger than can travel with him even as he traverses the shadows. That also means it becomes as incorporeal as he does during this time and wouldn't harbor any damage in that way.

IN THE BEGINNING

The man's name wasn't George Goodfellow, but for the sake of this retelling we shall say it was so. 

When George was a child he had an Irish nanny. She was probably one of the strictest of all his care-takers, but probably the most entertaining in her mannerisms. She fully believed that the Tuatha De Danann were quite real, and she would breathe stories of them and their court of fae as if George could stroll down the street and meet them. Of course the woman cautioned heavily against that as they were of the trickster kind and had only love for themselves as opposed to the mortals they served. She went on to state that there were good ones among them, but they weren't what she made her prayers to every night to protect her against. The nanny's favorite Tuatha De Danann member to speak of was The Morrigan, and she would do so with a hushed breath. Every crow that would darken their doorstep she would back away in fear from, and George had found that highly amusing. Still he didn't believe her- he was a child born of practicality and not of mythos. Maybe he should have paid more attention-

George grew up in a family that was not exactly upper-class but far from being in the lower echelon. They were always upward aiming though which led to many a conference on his potential marriage choices. He was a young member at Oxford, but currently was receiving quite the accreditation for being both bright and concise. Yet he was young, and still had a wild streak bolt through him. George had near about been expelled from the university had it not been for a young woman that he met on one of his many nightly ventures. She was an heiress to some lower nobility, and had the brightest eyes and the smartest laugh. The young woman, Elsie, was impressed by his current stint at Oxford and remarked that if he could get through unscathed that she would reward him with anything.

A few years later he would end up at one of her parent's villa out in the in the countryside. Their families both hoping that inevitably George and Elsie would stop dancing around the thought of marriage and take to it. That fateful afternoon they had taken a walk into one of the woods outside the garden area, and inevitably wandered about a path the Elsie knew well to a small stream that she fancied. After much coaxing and laughter they were hip deep in stinging cold water and lost in a fanciful rapture of carnal promises. There George asked her to marry him and she laughed and smiled and inevitably said yes. The sun was setting about that time- and they hauled themselves from the chilly water. He told her to go ahead- as to make it look as if they hadn't spent the entire eve philandering about. While he was attempting to button his shirt across his body he thought he heard Elsie cry out from the other side of the river. Yet George knew he hadn't seen her cross again. Still a cry emancipated the air once again, and he considered that she had might accidentally doubled back and crossed the shallows and ended up on the other side.

So George trekked further into the forest- constantly hear the cusp of her voice before if faded away. Next thing he knew was that his flesh was being nipped by vines and they tore through his clothing and left dense scratches on his skin. He cursed as he could no longer hear her voice- and became assured that he had gotten quite lost.

And that is when he ended up in Arcadia... 

THE DURANCE

The fae that George inevitably ended up contracted too was a beguiling mistress of darkness and shadows. At first she just used the young man for his body, and vitality. Yet an insurmountable amount of time passed before she hauled him from her chambers and inevitably gave him a mission. A fickle thing she was and enjoyed ruining her other fae accomplices by powerfully shameful blackmail. She trained him in the art of stealth and gave him many a powerful contract in doing such. George learned quickly much to her enjoyment, but yet every time his questioning and curious nature would come forth the fae would 'remind' him that he was here now in Arcadia with her. And such fanciful notion of his mortal world were nothing more than just that: fanciful. Yet it didn't stop George from thinking of Elsie when he was alone, and realizing that he was becoming less and less like his real self than before. At first he had protested, but he realized rather quickly that protest had turned into enjoyment. The man knew he was losing himself- and still he carried on.

Sometime afterwards he was handed about the fae's friends as some sort of token of friendship, but instead he was spying on them, watching them, and remembering their every word when they were assured he would forget. It entertained his mistress to no end to hear of the other's fallacies, and she properly wallowed in them and brought them to light whenever she would meet them again. Every time she seemed joyous and gratuitous- George would inquire of his life before this. Her mood would instantly sour and with a tinge of regret she would lay into him with claws and spite. After so many times of this- he just stopped asking.

For the longest time that was his life- and for the longest time he swallowed memories of the past. Yet one day they bubbled to the surface powerfully and forcefully when he had taken a hold of one of his mistress's tokens. It was a small pearl-like decoration, and he found that as long as he held it betwixt his fingers he remembered everything. Assured that he needed to return- a plan was formed. 

It wasn't long after that he was handed away to another one of his mistress's friends; and whilst they were in the midst of chatting and he had been idly forgotten about- he took to using what talents his mistress had taught him to escape back. All he escaped with was the small pearl, and an ornamental dagger that she had given him once out of fancy; and all the years of cruelty and guile that had compounded themselves upon his soul.

 

THE RETURN

George quickly realized what happened when he returned. Truth be told he erupted out on the eve of his own engagement party. Yet the one wrapped around Elsie's body was not him- well it was- but at the same time not at all. Unknowingly he used his powers to infiltrate the party- in a trance like state every time he laid eyes down upon the fake George and Elsie. He wanted to take back what was his, but realized swiftly that that would be impossible. The mirror showed him his face- yes- that normal mortal face, but alas it was no longer at the cusp of young adulthood but instead quite a bit older. He barely looked like himself anymore, and that revelation shattered him. He couldn't take Elsie back- why would she believe him? How could she believe him? He barely looked the George she knew, and more so the one she did know as wrapped around her arm. Yet probably the most venomous of daggers came when he overhead a hushed voice state the reason for their quick engagement came from the fact that Elsie was pregnant and they were trying to cover the entire thing up.

George knew- without a doubt- that he couldn't take his own life back.

Instead he disappeared into the world of changelings. It was a fairly quick transition considering that his years spent observing had given him an insight on what to look for regarding such. He was accepted quite quickly into the Court of Winter as he managed to embody everything that the held dear. He had much sorrow, and a far more tethered need to never let the fae find him again. He helped form a very high-class underground bordello with a few of the other changelings. This wasn't from any form of sexual repression but more so the fact that loose lips became loser when they were indentured in such acts. Inevitably it became a rather large network of information and helped so very much in the protection of the Winter Court against its' adversaries.

Inevitably he managed to work his way up to the King of Winter Court, but no one really knows the story of 'how'. But that is how the court functions- is it not?

COURT: Winter Court

STRENGTHS

Intelligent- Even before his Durance, George has always been quite bright and quick to pick up on things. This has only increased since his return and inevitable rise to power.

Personable- Given his secretive nature this shouldn't have been one of the main strengths in his repitoire but it was. He had always been a bit charismatic, but it was a skill that truly blossomed in his time in Arcadia. Yet those that truly know him might be far more guarded against his ways than those that didn't.

WEAKNESSES

Frail- George's prowess is not with physical strength- not in the least bit. If given a weapon and told to fight fairly against someone else he would lose. While he is fit- in a sense- it is more in a healthy manner than a kind that could take an opponent. As such he tries his best not to get into a battle of strength with anyone- especially not physically stronger changelings. 

THEME: Lighting Strike by Snow Patrol