Kane
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Stats
+Full Name+
Kane
+Alias(es)+
The Boogeyman
+Birthday+
Middle of Winter
+Court Affiliate+
The Spring Court
+Race+
High Fae
+Class+
Nightmare
+Scar/Tattoos+
Heavily scarred, missing one of his eyes
+Relationship+
No mate, no prospects
+Occupation+
Surviving
+Height+
6' 5"
+Weight+
260 pounds
+Hair Colour+
Dirty Blonde
+Eye Colour+
River Blue
+Addictions+
Revenge, Killing, Hunting/killing livestock
+Other Enjoyments+
Scaring mortals, kidnapping, stalking
+Voice+
Guttural, like something that was dragged out of the woods; half-starved and incredibly dangerous.
+Scent+
Cold pine, damp earth, leather, faint metallic traces of old blood
Underneath that - should you even get him to bathe off the blood and dirt - wood smoke and rain.
+Theme Song+
He's never heard music
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More Stats
Appearance:
He stood at an imposing 6’5”, built with the kind of dense muscle that came from surviving brutal terrain instead of training in polished courts. Every inch of him looked carved for violence, broad shoulders tapering into a thick torso lined with old scars that crossed sun-browned skin in uneven silver and red marks. Some were thin and faded with age while others looked rougher, jagged, as though they had healed badly in the wild with no healer to tend them properly. At nearly two hundred and sixty pounds, he carried the weight heavily through his chest, arms, and back, giving him the unmistakable presence of something physically dangerous even while standing still.
Long dirty-blond hair hung past his shoulders in tangled waves, rough and unkempt from weather, river water, and neglect rather than vanity. It framed a face that was unmistakably High Fae despite the damage life had carved into it, sharp cheekbones, strong jaw, straight nose, and pointed ears half-hidden beneath the mess of pale hair. A black eyepatch covered his left eye, the leather worn from years of use, while the remaining eye was a startling river blue that seemed almost too bright against the grime and scars surrounding it. His skin was matte and dirt-streaked rather than polished, marked with ash, dried mud, and the roughness of someone who spent more time outdoors than under roofs. Torn black leathers and furs hung from his frame in ragged layers, making him look less like a court-born male and more like some half-starved creature dragged out of the forests north of the wall.
Personality:
He was feral in the truest sense of the word. Not loud or rabid, but untamed in a way that made civilized people deeply uneasy. Everything about him ran on instinct before logic. He trusted scent over conversation, body language over words, and violence over diplomacy when cornered. Most of the time he was unnervingly quiet, watching more than speaking, studying people with the same patient attention predators gave wounded animals. If he was curious about someone, he circled instead of approached directly. Stared too long. Leaned too close without realizing it was wrong. Hunger shaped nearly every part of him, whether it was for food, territory, information, or attachment, and it gave him an intensity that never fully softened no matter how beautiful he looked underneath the dirt and scars.
Years spent surviving alone stripped away most of the social instincts High Fae were supposed to have. He did not bow correctly, did not understand delicate court manners, and rarely bothered hiding his emotions behind polished expressions. Anger showed itself immediately in the tightening of his jaw, the sharpening of his canines, the unnatural stillness that settled into him right before violence. His shape-shifting magic only worsened those animalistic traits, especially under stress, claws threatening beneath his nails, pupils narrowing strangely in dim light, movements becoming too quiet and too fluid to look entirely human anymore. And once someone crossed into the small circle his instincts considered safe or his, he guarded them with terrifying intensity. Not politely. Not gently. Like a starving wolf protecting the only thing in the world it refused to lose.
Education:
He was not raised to be civilized, and it showed in nearly every part of him. Born deep within the forests near the Spring Court border and left alone far too young after accidentally killing his parents through uncontrolled magic, he grew into something far wilder than most High Fae knew how to understand. Survival became his only teacher. He learned the world through instinct instead of etiquette, through scent and sound instead of conversation, and through violence long before diplomacy. Most social behaviors felt unnatural to him even as an adult. He did not understand court manners, personal space, or the delicate performances most High Fae relied upon. He moved quietly, watched constantly, and reacted with immediate intensity whenever threatened. Hunger shaped him in every sense of the word, whether for food, territory, safety, or attachment, and years spent surviving alone in the forests turned him into something deeply unsettling to civilized people. Not because he lacked intelligence, but because his intelligence functioned more like a predator studying patterns than a nobleman navigating society.
Lover:
He had never taken lovers in the way most High Fae understood the word. There were no courtship rituals buried in him, no polished charm, no practiced understanding of romance or seduction. Raised in isolation and shaped more by survival than society, attachment came to him as instinct rather than elegance. The rare few he allowed close were guarded with a possessive, almost frightening intensity, his loyalty expressed through protection, proximity, and vigilance instead of soft words or affection. He understood the need to keep something safe far better than he understood how to love it softly.
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