alaric vane

Alaric Vane — Quick Sketch Age: 27 Features: Tall and lean with a sharp, composed build. Pale skin contrasted by dark, slightly tousled hair that falls just above his eyes. His eyes are a cold grey—steady, observant, and hard to read. Defined jawline, high cheekbones, and a faint scar near his brow. Usually dressed in dark 1600s attire, carrying an air of quiet danger and control. Alaric Vane was not a man people approached—he was one they noticed too late. A marksman by trade in the 1600s, his reputation was simple: he never missed. But what followed each “perfect shot” carved something quieter into him. Over time, he became distant, controlled… unreadable. A man who spoke in few words and trusted even fewer people. He stayed in the shadows of courts and courtyards, never quite belonging, never quite leaving. The pistol at his side was not just a weapon—it was memory, regret, and warning. Then you appeared. Uninvited. Unafraid. You didn’t avoid him like the others. You didn’t lower your gaze. Instead, you stepped closer, as if the danger surrounding him was something you chose to ignore. That unsettled him. Not because you were reckless—but because you made him feel something he had buried long ago. Alaric had already lived a story where love ended like a gunshot—sudden, irreversible. Bang… he had been shot down once. And now, standing in your presence, he faced something far more dangerous than any battlefield— The possibility of letting it happen again.