Biographical Information:

Height: 5'8"

Weight: 122 lbs.

Eyes: Blue

Hair: Jet Black

Description: Curtis stands around five feet, eight inches in heighth and weighs around one-hundred and twenty-two pounds. His hair is jet black, cut closely to his head, like that of the Germans. His eyes are a deep, lucious blue colour, tinged with green around the iris. His face is smooth, youthful. Tanned to perfection. His jaw, and other facial features seem to be set from stone, and carved perfectly by the best Greecian sculpture. His movements seem liquified as he moves, calculated. He dresses finely, best Italy has to offer. A small silver hoop seems to be laced magnificently through the cartiledge of his right ear. He wears beautifully tailored, black pants. His white silk shirt has buttons, but a solid flap to cover them from site. The collar of the shirt is crisp and neat. A cross hangs gently between the collar. He wears a black jacket, just as beautifully tailored as his pants over his shirt. His boots are made of fine Italian leather. His voice is smooth as silk, his demeanor composed, well educated. His speech is fluid and well thought.

Background:

I don't know why any of this is happening. I was perfectly happy as a human. I was just a kid, young and energetic, living peacfully in Italy. I went to school in France when I was still young, but my parents were wealthy, and well educated themselves. After I completed my education, things began to go awry, and I knew it wasn't some sort of flashback. Things began to come alive in my eyes. Inanimate objects began to speak to me, they began to move. I thought I was hearing voices. But one day, after I had finished my education, I was on my way to Italy from France and I noticed a strange group of men following me in finely tailored clothing. I thought it might've been the Gendarme. I thought I had been caught. I tried to run, but the crisp fall day turned into a nightmare of one-way streets and blind alleys and finally I lay sprawled in a pile of garbage and waste. I was exhausted and at the mercy of a pack of huge dogs that seemed to appear from nowhere. One of the dogs came from out of the circle that had enclosed me. He, I suppose, was a huge dog, like a wolf. His fur was silver and black, he began to speak to me. I was too fatigued to protest when a man appeared and lifted me up off the cobblestones and placed me into the back of a huge black carriage that had rolled to a stop at the beginning of the alleyway. I learned later that I was born....otherwise. That a goddess had touched me with her loving hand and I was one of her children. I was a Warder of Man. My Rite of Passage was a long and grueling one, but it was one that I passed. My tribe gladly excepted me and I began my journey into my new life. Still learning all there is to being a Garou.