Loic Brehault

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• Vital Stats

  • Name: Loic Brehault
  • Gender: Male
  • Played by: Roma
  • Nicknames: Louie
  • Race: Human
  • Deity: Catholic
  • Age: 32
  • Body Type: Muscular
  • Height: 6' Even
  • Weight: 180 lbs
  • Complexion: Slightly Pale
  • Hair: Tawny
  • Eyes: Green
  • Handedness: Right
  • Scars: Several
  • Relationship Status: Single
  • Personality: Determined, outgoing
  • Mannerisms: Smokes, drinks
  • Likes: Booze, cigarettes, women, burlesque shows.
  • Dislikes: Germans, Italians, Cowards

• Random Notes

  He's very possessive, but in an odd way. He doesn't care if someone cheats on him, as long as he gets to take his own unique brand of revenge. It usually involves forcing them to watch as he brutally murders the other man. Of course, sometimes he gets creative. If whoever he might be with at the time is knocked up by anyone but him he isn't above giving them an Irish Abortion-a bottle of whiskey and a hard knee to the stomach.

• Description

  "Il vaut mieux hasarder de sauver un coupable..." He had never been caught, but his posters were up all over town, offering wildly inaccurate depictions of what he looked like. Rather than the hook nosed and hunch backed monster the wanted posters would have one believe, he had a strong jaw and a narrow nose, a pointed chin, and a shaggy head of tawny hair complimented by a light beard of the same color. Green eyes, rather than the yellow he was usually pictured with, and instead of the cold sore covered maw on the poster, his wide mouth was often contorted into a confident smirk, displaying perfectly white teeth; or alternatively with a cigarette steadfastly set between them. He was tall, and stood with good posture, walking with a confident stride. Muscular, though not burly. "...que de condamner un innocent."

• Biography

  World War II
  
  He was born on May 4th in 1908 in the town of Saint-Brieuc, France to Mari Brehault and Yann Brehault. His Mother was a respected member of the community and her church, as well as the owner of a popular shop in the region which would deal mostly in amateur artwork and knick-knacks. His father was a low ranking officer in the military, he'd never seen action and had no desire too. He grew up in a small flat, only two rooms, a bedroom and the den, kitchen, dining room area. It was big enough for their family of three, at least. He would often be out and about and just sleep wherever he laid his head for the night, but when he was home he would sleep on the couch. He thought they had it hard, and they did, but it wasn't as bad as some of his friends had it. He was a very happy kid, despite being drunkenly knocked around more than a few times by his dad.
  
  As he grew into a teenager he started to become a handful. Though he would never disobey his parents; the school teachers and the authorities were given little credence when they were between him and something he wished to do. It was never said, by anyone and especially not by him, that he didn't earn every punishment he got. His pranks got progressively worse and he started to become rather fond of arson as he got older. Despite this delinquency he was an intelligent boy, and got nearly perfect grades every year. His acting out only got worse when in 1917 they got word that his father had died in the line of duty, fighting against the Germans in World War 1. He started to drink a little heavier than a fourteen year old should and it only meant his destructive streak grew. Puberty ended up giving him a pretty easy ride at least, he grew a good eight inches in height when he was thirteen and then stopped growing, but didn't fill out for several more years. By sixteen he was a man, having grown fond of bourbon and started smoking. His mother always thought his drinking and smoking was self destructive behavior but he would reassure her every time that he was as happy as could be. Girls started to pay attention to him though their attention usually went right over his head. He was rather oblivious when it came to girls and ended up friend zoning most of them. When he turned eighteen he would be kicked out of the house. He had gotten his diploma and his mother told him it was time to get out of the house. He applied to several colleges in the hopes of furthering his education (and gaining at least some experience with women). In the end he decided to go on to college in Paris at La Sorbonne.
  
  At La Sorbonne, he focused his studies on physics and architecture. He hoped to become a successful architect when he left the university, to build bridges and churches and design great works of art to be constructed in wood and stone. Of course, the money was a huge attraction too. He was determined to be successful and to be able to provide every luxury for whoever would eventually become his family. He of course took various levels of advanced math, classes in chemistry, anatomy, and some courses in the treatment of wounds, which was taught by a veteran of the Great War. He got a small apartment not far from the prestigious university. He grew to be rather hated though, at least by the other men at his college. He got a reputation for being a ladies man. Not of his own accord, of course. He would firmly attest he was not stealing the women that frequented his apartment, simply giving them a service their husbands and boyfriends couldn't provide. It wasn't as if he had a genuine relationship with any of the women. That isn't to say he wasn't a perfect gentleman towards them. Despite the stigma that evolved around his name he was much more interested in how much weight an arch could support and what materials would resist what kinds of tension, than he was any of his suitors.
  
  He would graduate with honors from the university and give a speech upon his graduation, it was a long eloquent speech that in a round-a-bout way told everyone to suck it. Then he would head back home to tell his mom the good news. Not long after he returned home his mother would develop a cough. The cough would get worse and worse but she refused to go to the doctor, until she was coughing up blood. By that point it was too late, she had full blown pneumonia and she was slowly drowning. She succumbed to the disease only a week later, her funeral service filled the local church, it was an appropriate send off for his mom. He inherited a relatively large sum of money. He was really only rich in the same way a kid that finds twenty dollars is 'rich', it was only enough buy a small townhouse in Paris, but it was certainly better than nothing. The flat he'd lived out his childhood in would be sold and he would sell the furniture and all the other belongings as well. He would decorate his new townhouse to suit his style and serve as a bachelor pad. He would spend his twenties taking commissions from construction companies to design churches and homes and he gained a moderate amount of local fame, though he was never wildly successful. Love was fleeting and plentiful.
  
  World War II would hit France just before he turned thirty-two, but rather than a long drawn out conflict he found France surrendered quickly, and he was greatly disappointed. He had enlisted to fight almost immediately and he spent his time in the war as a saboteur and a medic, being rather successful at both. He was supposed to receive a medal for taking out a German troop convoy with only three sticks of dynamite. His knowledge of architecture came in extremely handy, being able to destroy a bridge without using the very precious explosives was a valued skill. His knowledge of chemistry also helped to a much lesser degree, it was nice to know what materials he could use to maximize explosive force. When France surrendered he didn't stop being a saboteur nor did he stop being a medic. His reputation as a resistance leader grew until he had a small band of good, trusted men following him. He was often sighted at the sites of explosions, however a consistent report of what he looked like was hard to come by. It was rare anyone noticed him when he wasn't drunk off his rocker and bragging about it.
  
  Cold War
  
  [To be expanded upon.]
  A member of the Service de Documentation Extérieure et de Contre-Espionnage (SDECE). Spent time in Ireland training IRA members in building and using explosives, as well as marksmanship. He then was transferred to America to infiltrate the CIA. He was given a fake name and fake background, and got a job working for the CIA. Speaks English, French, Russian, Spanish, and Portuguese flawlessly and unaccented.
  
  Semi-Futuristic
  
  [To be expanded upon.]
  Works for a Private Military Contractor. Former member of the Commandos de Penfentenyo, the French Naval Marines reconnaissance and intelligence operations division.

• Links

  F-List: http://www.f-list.net/c/Loic%20Brehault/