Andikan

First

• Primary Assessment

  • Name: Andikan
  • Gender: Male
  • Race: Lion
  • Age: 46
  • Height: 6'3''
  • Weight: ~200
  • Complexion: Albino

• Secondary Assessment

  The working day was never truly over for a male of his profession. The figure would step into his home, finally letting out a long sigh of relief, muffled heavily by the mask he wore. It was bright white in the face in color, with a pair of large, smoked lenses, but these were not the eye catcher. It was beaked, coming from the bridge of the nose and wide enough to accommodate a muzzle but longer than most avians' own. It had a series of laces along the very middle and top of the beak, tying to studs together tightly, presumably so it could be undone to clean inside. The bottom of the beak was a deep black, which came back to finish the jaw of the mask. A deep blue, tapered hood would be pushed down, exposing an entire wrap all about the creature's head, showing no flesh or hair, where leather straps wrapped about the back of his head to keep the mask in place.
  
  He wore a hooded cowl, colored that deep, serene blue that seemed to be "bolted" onto a dark leather coat, dotted with studs all along his shoulders and midchest. It looked somewhat heavy as it covered down to his arms, where some slack was tied off along the middle of his forearms. Blue gloves covered his hands and fingers, heavy duty but dexterous for the demands of his profession. Small, metal "claws" were attached to the tips of each finger, the ones adorning the pinkies obviously much sharper than the rest. He'd take off his large, leather satchel, strapped in from one shoulder to his hips, where a belt encircled. A few clicks, and the bag was set down, and on the other hip a series of vials and the like settled atop of his bag. His boots were easily heard, black ones and well made with metal studding the toes and heels, adding to some grip and structure. His coat's hem would sway just above his ankle, and soon, he'd finally decide to relax.
  
  First went the gloves and sleeves. He'd unlace where his sleeve slipped into his coat, which overlapped and would be loosened with a few snaps of the studs. Once the sleeves were undone, he'd pull them down, undoing the studded overlapping gloves to free his arms. Pure white paws with pink pads would be soon, and with a stretch claws slipped from those finger tips. He'd undo his belt now, slipping it off and loosening the coat about his midsection, to hang the straps that held his bags and pouches up on a nearby hook. He'd take a nearby seat, lifting his coat to undo the straps all along his heavy boots, taking his time to slip one, then the other right off, leaving his equally bright white furred and pink padded feet free. He'd wait a moment, looking around his small room, before undoing the cowl about his shoulders, unsnapping and unhooking the studs. Once loosened, he'd pull it up and over, to get hung on the beak. He'd pause, realizing he forgot a step, but regardless he'd let out a long, annoyed sigh, muffled in the mask like any other sound he'd possibly make. He'd deal with it and slip it off, tilting his head back and finally freeing himself to set the cowl on a nearby table, just for his outfit. He'd then undo the side studs and buttons on his coat, opening it up, and finishing the other side, to simply slip it off of his shoulders. It, too, would be hung up, exposing a simple button down shirt that had a few buttons undone along the top to alleviate some heat, which incidentally showed off that wizened, exercised physique. He sighed again, then finally reached up, unstrapping the mask, to ease it up and off of him with the hood attached.
  
  The lion would let out a long, drawn out sigh as he was freed, the world a little brighter now that he was freed from the smoked lenses. His pale, pink eyes glanced around his home as he hung the iconic symbol of the doctor up on the final hook. The albino lion would readjust his mane a bit, long and white, worn with pride. He'd readjust the suspenders, slipping them from his shoulders to stand there in his home, glancing around the candle light. Eyes spotted their prize, and soon he'd open his small cabinet, producing a glass and whiskey, which he'd pour to relax back in his seat and start drinking the day away. He'd roll up his sleeves past his elbows, and prop his aching feet up onto a nearby stool as he took a sip, then downed the entire glass of his own personal "medicine." The Good Doctor was out.
  
  -- Not feelin' the "plague doctor" look? Too old of a timeframe for you? Want something more "modern" for a Role Play timeline? Well you're in luck! I love me some play, so don't be afraid of the spooky mask, toss me a whisper, even if you'd prefer a modern setting! Just know, he'll be involved in medicine one way or another (Think EMS or maybe even a full fledged doc' for all your modern ailments).