Malfattore Gallo

[Malfattore Gallo]

MALFATTORE NERO GALLO

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x x
" when you lose something you can't replace; when you love someone, but it goes to waste. could it be worse? "


you say you're curious[/color]
CAN'T LEAVE A THING TO YOUR IMAGINATION[/font][/center]

[/b] malfattore nero gallo da caserta
AGE: twenty-four
GENDER: male
BIRTHDAY: september the fourth
CLASS: 'middle class' commoner
OCCUPATION: assassin
PLAY-BY:[/SIZE] francisco randez { portrayed more as ezio auditore with slight changes }
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but oh, you seem so serious

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I SHOULD ENJOY THE SWEET INTERROGATION[/font][/center]

[/b] light brown ; honey
HAIR: dark brown ; chestnut
WEIGHT: 157 pounds
HEIGHT: 6'1"
GENERAL: just like any other robes, he has a pointed hood over his head, tunics over his city clothing and black trousers to boots of a fashionable sense. with minor attachments of his own; such as a blank stitching of an eagle across the left side of his chest, the gold work of engraved stone around his neck, feathers on a silver chain on the side of his drawn hood and from the adornment below his hood. he was like none other, his robes an olive underside and a white overlay to blend both into the day and night.
his hair is brown and just passes his jaw messily, the same for his eyes though they take on more of a stirred honey hue. a bit of stubble is left around his chin and the strong lines of his chin, accenting the scar over his lip and the nick under his right eye.
ATTIRE: see above. malfattore also holds a necklace from his passed wife. it has gold engraving around the chain, and a copper angel wing, ad a hollow imprint of a star dangling next to it. he has a frequent tendency to wear a vambrace with a hidden blade, though when at home he leaves it be and takes his daggers or rapier.[/SIZE]
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i should not be telling you

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I'M FLATTERED BY YOUR INTEREST[/font][/center]

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• women
  
• traveling randomly over italy and europe
  
• playing music on his vielle
  
• animals : cats and eagles especially
  
• bread : eating in large quantities

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DISLIKES:

• noblemen // those damn templars
  
• fish : living, not in food form
  
• rude men in general : mistreating, 'competition' etc.
  
• his father / mother / sister
  
• marriage / commitment

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STRENGTHS:

• muscular body, yet agile to climbing
  
• the leap of faith and blending abilities to escape in crowds
  
• his equipment for assassination or get away from guards

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WEAKNESSES:

• he is stubborn and never gives up, often never doing him well
  
• he is completely egotistical and allows it to fluctuate as he wished
  
• sometimes he may forget what he does, and is distracted by anything such as women

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QUIRKS/HABITS:

• he has the tendency to travel by rooftops rather than ground, but is often caught by people and eventually comes down to earth, almost literally.
  
• more than often than not is he visiting doctors, making mistakes in jumps and the exact parkour he takes part in. many find it interesting how he can afford such frequent visits?

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FEARS:

• death and failure
  
• the destruction of his famed country and family despite his dislike to many.

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GOALS: it's every assassin's dream to become the master assassin, and he isn't anyway near to that goal. however, he has decided in short time not to aspire to such heights like his father attempted, but rather finally settle somewhere and become a noble, making at least his name great in one city.
PERSONALITY he was naive and acted on his first instincts, whether it be his jumps from building to building or to break out into fights. on the clock of his work within the brotherhood, he was like a human compared to the other bloodless men. he found the time to afford to laugh and joke, but his eyes were buried under the shield of secrecy. he was a flirt, and every woman's friend, with the biggest ego in the world and it could only inflate.[/SIZE]
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you start to hypnotize me

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WHY SHOULD I TRUST YOU[/font][/center]

[/b] silvana gallo
FATHER: alonso galo
SIBLINGS: f. florentina colafranceschi
OTHER:

• his late wife, cesarina feliciana gallo
  
• his uncle, angelo gallo
  
• his cousin, lourdes raniero
  
• his friend, niccolo machiavelli

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FAMILIAR/PET: none
CURRENT RESIDENCE: his parent's home in caserta, however, he travels and never stays due to his dislike towards much of his family.
WEAPONRY:

• a silver spanish rapier
  
• two hidden blades on his vambraces, both left and right arms
  
• ten throwing knives around his waist
  
• one stiletto dagger
  
• one damascus dagger

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HISTORY: malfattore grew in a moderate home in caserta with his father ( see his family list ), mother, and sister. he carried on his life without much knowledge of his father's work as an assassin, despite looking forward to his aspiring future. he developed his skills to dance across the roof tops by the first decade in his life. however, tragedy befell his family in the spring. during their days in the courtyards, she had found an interest in speaking with a guard who changed shifts around a noble's home, and made small talk. five days after their initial meeting, she was burned to death on a cross in the central city, next to the guillotines and nooses. jolanda's body was gathered by the boy's own hands, the ashes falling between small fingers and gathered into a small pot. what was left of her. shortly after the sinister act by the pope and his guards, his father remarried to silvana. the woman hated him, and he displayed the same feelings as shown in an angry letter to her at the age of twenty three. on his twentieth birthday, he was presented with his assassin rank ceremony. overjoyed, his father blessed him and sent him to do much of the work after his retired life.

nothing is true. everything is permitted.

on a spring morning, malfattore was a happy twenty two year old man in italy, his wanderings aimless and ambling one of his many hobbies. upon returning home, he's presented with a woman he can recognize very well from his childhood, no good feelings having ever been harbored for cesarina rossi. until then, he hadn't been considering an arranged marriage nor one at all, content with his various nights spent in other beds and hearts of women. he was distraught after their marriage. he was an abused man caged in his own home, stuck with the people he hated the most. often times he carried bruises over his chest and arms where his newly found wife marred him and struck him with brave fists. it was surely against his policies to take away a woman's beauty by returning the favor, and took the abuse like the chicken he was titled after. for two years, he suffered in the now cramped home, often times stealing a corner or going out to find another woman to occupy his time with, and taking other city missions; where he met niccolo machiavelli, giovanni auditore, and his brother, mario auditore on his travels. they were the traveling band of assassins and mercenaries, and remained friends for many years.

again, sauntering the town he grew up in simply, he encountered a woman who brushed him the wrong way. her hand had stroked his florin pouch, and having it full didn't make him feel any better about the accidental contact. with his hidden blade drawn, he slit her lithe throat against the cool metal in the presence of many people. guards with their long swords out and poised, they chased him as far as they could until he took refuge on the roof gardens scattered to his disposal. as the city was on high alert, he came back down to earth and made his way back home, a smug smirk on his face despite the tenet he broke. the moment malfattore's foot set place in his home, his father's hand was the only acknowledgment against his cheek, leaving a splitting bruise on his olive skin. he decided he'd leave. leave for good, especially after his prized spanish rapier was taken from him in fury and anger. where would his lies and travels get him next, with a ticket out of italy?
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who am i talking to

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COULD BE A DEMON IN A MASK[/font][/center]

[/b] lizzy, fridge, or malfattore if you wish
AGE: twenty one
EXPERIENCE: ten years!
CONTACT: pm me here, whisper me on furcadia on the characters fringe or malfattore, or message me on wajas! id # 188944
ANSWER: ADMIN EDIT
EXAMPLE:

He was so tired; so Goddamn tired these days. It had taken him a mere month, weeks and days at a time, to rule all of Italy with his feet. Or at least what he could afford to search, several towns in one week if he was lucky. Rubbing his eye with his hand, he swept the last of his fatigue away from the corners, which had collected the tang of denial and the bite of sleep. If he was lucky, he would find a better place to sleep rather than a stack of hay already left open, or destroyed by his hands that night. Malfattore awoke later in the day, when the sun wasn't as high in the heavens so that its rays threatened to beat him down with one strike, sweat gathering at his forehead and on the edges of his neck. Often times he had taken his robes from his body, slung them over his arm and trudged in a peasant's clothing through the momentary heat. In the chills of the night he led his life on the roofs, the olive and white of his clothing both a mystery and well known in the shadows befalling him. Much had changed, his hope of finding his brotherhood reduced to a sliver that soon faded too, and he had begun to think he was traveling only because he wanted to, mindlessly. Releasing a sigh, the night before had served him well; a warm bath to refresh his mind and food for his growling stomach that raised some alarms more than once in the middle of a conversation, whether it be to ask for directions or the like. To be honest to himself, he didn't know where he was. He had lost track of his actions long ago, through battles and long days where all he could do was lug his wounds behind him. However, in the same time frame, his small scars had healed without hesitation, and soon the arrow puncture over his left shoulder had been transformed to nothing more than a crusted scab that would fall in its own time and leave him nearly spotless. He had developed a small nick under his right eye, the rounded semi-circle healed to a scar that only added to his now calloused appearance.

Something, however, caught his attention from the corner of his eye as fortune did smile upon him and granted him an inn. The pigeon coop many assassins communicated through called his short attention, and he clambered up the walls like a demon after a sinner, his death sentence between sharpened teeth. Grunting as he scaled each sandstone and clay surface, the cool leg of a bird met his hand, and with haste he uncoiled a parchment only screaming his name on it. What was this? Directions? Malfattore traced his trained eyes over the scrap of paper before tucking it in his spare pouch, gracing over the same path he had taken to the coop, the birds departing and returning on a regular basis. It seemed he was a good person these days, and upon entering his birth city, would find the new placement of his hideout. After what seemed to be hours of climbing and looking upon his parchment, he entered from the roof of the establishment and was greeted by friends who remained stationed in the rich city. "Rooster!" They called and patted him on the back, pushing his ego higher as he adopted a cocky grin. Many of the white and ebony robed men tossed him offers of a room to stay in until the morning, where they would hand him the beginnings of a map to his next mission.

Hanging his robes over the side of a chair, cleansing himself in the depths and perils of a tub of steaming water, he had drifted to a deafened state of sleep on his one good bed. And indeed in the morning, was he given the assignment by the Master Assassin of the hideout to secure a Templar and his family. Malfattore caught a whiff of the fact he may be locating all of their inn like buildings in good Italy, and he needed to burn the documents relaying such information. And his family. No one was to be left alive.

Thus, leading up to this moment in his life where he held his Stiletto in one hand, his Damascus dagger in the other, and a grim expression and his elbow knocked upon the mahogany of the front door. What a better way to start one's morning than with an intruder like he?

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this application is copyright SHINOA !, please do not distribute without permission

[Malfattore Gallo]

{ application completed and open to review. }

[Unknown]

ACCEPTED ! !