LOVE ME DEAD!

( PLAYER INFORMATION )
- ★ NAME: Onion
- ★ AGE: 22
- ★ TIMEZONE: EST
- ★ CONTACT: ohniohn, or PM.
- ★ CURRENT CHARACTERS LATEST AC: N/A

( CHARACTER INFORMATION )
- ★ NAME: Lamont Toucey.
- ★ AGE: Approximately 32.
- ★ CANON & CANON POINT: Hanna is Not a Boy’s Name, immediately prior to "Chapter 3: In Which a Clock Stops Ticking".
- ★ CANON INFORMATION: Wiki page, canon profile.
- ★ PERSONALITY:

On the surface, Lamont Toucey is absolutely the most temperate character in the Hanna is Not a Boy’s Name cast. Calm, friendly and charming, you’ll almost never find him without an amicable smile. His attitude is mellow and laid-back as can be, giving the impression of both mental and physical slowness, and he knows how to get in good with basically anyone and everyone. How much of that is a front is up for debate, but he, at the very least, wears the mask in front of others to build and keep business connections. While being on the good side of clients in the human world is important enough, being the mortal supplier of the city's supernatural community leaves him at quite the disadvantage if he manages to piss anyone off, and Lamont does not have a death wish. Naturally, his position has made him rather paranoid over the years, and as such, he maintains a number of safe houses, all protected by various means, throughout the city for his own protection, guarding their locations from even those closest to him. However, despite the paranoia, he seems to manage non-business relationships with many of his clients (i.e. gambling with Casimiro and an assumedly sexual relationship with Adelaide, as shown), a double-edged sword which many would be surprised he risks. This is because Lamont is firmly of the philosophy of keeping your enemies as close as your friends; as he has no true power of his own, he's learned to wield his connections as weapons, using a friend's strength against and enemy's weakness. He's also very good at fast-talking and bartering his way out of trouble, showing an intelligence that many underestimate. The fact that he's still alive is a testament to his ability to maintain the delicate balance required of someone in his position. Lamont's poker face is only broken when he's either embarrassed or nervous, and though his smile never disappears, these emotions can cause him to blush and emit manic, uncontrolled laughter, which some find to be disturbing and inappropriate. However, when under true duress, Lamont somehow manages to keep these reactions under control despite any distractions, knowing what a screw up might cost him.

Despite his apparent easygoing disposition, looks aren't terribly deceiving when it comes to Lamont. Described by Conrad as shady and greasy, Lamont obviously doesn't object to what comes down to black market dealings in order to make a “quick buck”, following the siren song of money wherever it calls him. He's even willing to do much of the dirty work involved in item acquisition, even when those items are human organs. Money, to him, is a means of gaining freedom after a rough childhood where poverty was a restraint, and like poverty, he has a great contempt for anything repressive, including the words of others. As seen there, Lamont has no problems personally using violence against those he feels are limiting him (even when that person is his long-time friend, Worth), unless he is in a situation where he knows he cannot win; that would simply warrant a different strategy, as discussed above. This is a trait he's possessed since his younger years, demonstrated when a ten-year-old Lamont chased a stray baseball into the yard of a ten-year-old Worth, beginning their long history of brawling. All of these qualities and others, such as hedonistic promiscuity and recreational "activities", enjoyment of teasing particularly ornery individuals, and a penchant for cursing, point to Lamont's lack of a traditional "moral compass". He's a man who marches to the beat of his own drum, chasing happiness through worldly pleasures while doing whatever he can to remain master of his own life.

- ★ COURT ALLIANCE: Unseelie. As a character who showed up very few times in canon before the comic ended, there are two ways to approach playing Lamont: assuming that how he purports himself is his true personality, or extrapolating from his chosen profession and those he keeps company with that there is much more to him than meets the eye. In this game, I am looking forward to going the latter route and playing up his more unsavory elements -- the ones that would make him simply unsuitable for Seelie.

- ★ ABILITIES: Being a normal human, Lamont wasn't born with any innate powers or abilities. However, during his time as a businessman in the supernatural community, he's developed great skills toward interpersonal diplomacy, such as charm, flexibility, and tact. In addition, he's rather clever and capable of fast-talking to get himself out of trouble, when need be. He's also an experienced brawler, although he really only does so currently with one certain other person.

- ★ INVENTORY: Clothing (dark wash jeans, black button-down, black loafers, dark socks, black leather jacket); wallet containing driver’s license, credit card, limited amount of cash, a couple protective runes; smartphone (I’m aware that it will not work!); half-used pack of cigarettes and lighter; car keys.

( SAMPLES )
- ★ NETWORK SAMPLE: Ruby City address.

- ★ LOG SAMPLE:

Imps. It had to be imps.

Of course Lamont had no idea what was happening when the little fuckers invaded his car and grabbed him from every direction -- grabbed his shoulders, his arms, his face, grabbed the goddamn steering wheel -- and nearly made him crash into at least a dozen cars, buildings and pedestrians. Thankfully, he kept control of the vehicle just long enough to haphazardly slam into a parking spot on the side of the road, but the world went dark immediately afterward as a burlap sack got yanked over his head; the next thing he knew, he was tossed out onto the asphalt, then dragged into a particularly damp, foul-smelling environment, the sound of running water underlining the chittering of the imps. At first, he tried to fight the hoard of assholes, but he quickly realized his efforts were in vain; every struggle earned a bite, a scratch, a hiss, and eventually, he knew it was time to give it up. All he could do was flip through the mental rolodex and think of who he knew that might have such creatures under their command -- who he might of pissed off, what they might want, what he could do to get them to let him go.

No one came to mind.

It was only a few minutes before light finally met Lamont's eyes again, and he found himself-- wait, no time to figure out where he was; the imps had begun talking. They handed off a bit of rolled parchment and a rather beautiful piece of jewelry (mental note: could be worth something!), spouting something about a king and messages, but by the time Lamont had processed what they said, they were already long gone, the last straggler disappearing beneath a horse-drawn wagon. Finally, the businessman looked up with knit brows, spotting a castle a bit higher on the hill where this town(?) was situated; between that and the garb of those in the passing throngs made Lamont think he'd been dragged to Medieval Times. After a moment, he looked down to his hands, opening the parchment and scanning over the map printed upon it.

"...fucking hell."

Welcome to bullshit faerie land.