CIVILIAN . SHILOH, NOLAN

MALE

BISEXUAL

TWENTY-NINE

OCTOBER 4, 1982

AMERICAN

ENGLISH

MR. SHILOH

0.70

Civilian

None

None

9/12/13 by Dani

SENRI

CANIS MINOR

YES

GLORIA from DEATH CONNECTION

On the exterior, Nolan happily works as a waiter for a French restaurant, Le Cordon Rouge. This is mainly because he needs a job other than his... other "secret" job, and he prefers French cuisine over any other type of food out there. Of course, the owner of the restaurant is a little iffy about his untimely schedule and his general punctuation problems, but recently he's never been bugged about it.

On the interior, however, this dapper gentleman works as an assassin who works under the name Libertine. Libertine is not one person. It is comprised of five people who all work under the same name, merely adding to it's already great enigmatic persona and making sure that Libertine stays alive.

There's a reason as to why Nolan's extremely careful when it comes to inviting ladies over to his apartment or house or enormous mansion -- that is to say, he doesn't actually have one. As a "super secret agent," as he jokingly calls it, he lives a life of excitement, but also on the road. His "residence" so to speak is really just a number of luxurious hotels that fit his tastes. He has the money to stay at hotels for prolonged periods of time, as well as the connections to make it happen. He generally tends to gravitate towards high-class hotels (well, he can afford them), though under certain circumstances, a hotel in the "red-light district" is never too far off his horizon. The status of the areas that he lives in really just reflect the nature of his hotel.

His home decor is generally high-class, extremely expensive, carefully planned and excruciatingly neat. As a perfectionist, everything about the furniture must be perfect, no matter if it's temporary or for life. When any normal person walks in, their first impression is: "Oh my God, this man's a millionaire." Well, he just likes to make it seem that way.

Indeed, this kind of life is his ideal. He'd be lying if he said that living in a set home was never his cup of tea, but he enjoys his job, and living in a set home would only be a hindrance, looking from his perspective. Living the life of a nomad is exciting, too.

“If you really must know, I stand at… approximately six feet two inches.”

“167 lbs, good sir.”

“To be perfectly honest, I’d like to describe myself as a somewhat lean, yet perfectly muscular man.”

“Did you know? My eyes are a wonderful grey color. I’m quite proud of them.”

“Being perfectly honest, I do fancy my frameless, non-prescription glasses. And my sunglasses – I can’t go out without those. I’ve also been considering getting contacts… just to initiate some sort of tomfoolery with my eye color. But I don’t think I’m quite ready to part with my original eye color.”

“My, you can tell by looking – my skin is an ivory color. Slightly tanned.”

“If I stripped to my bare skin, you’d notice the numerous scars all over my body. Yes, I’m sad to tell you, but they’re the… lasting memories of a rather gruesome time.”

“Oh my, I do adore fedoras. I keep quite a lot of them.”

“The first thing you’ll notice about me is that my hair is… uniquely long. Sometimes I keep it in a ponytail, but otherwise, I keep it natural. Just the way I like it. Also, it's black.”

“Hmm… my hair is… naturally silky. It’s perhaps one of my special traits that make me… well, me. And it never fails to make the ladies jealous! It’s also generally straight.”

As an assassin, many lessons as to how he should act were pounded into his brain until it became a sort of second nature to him. On the exterior, he can act:

CORDIAL | The one thing you learn when you're first introduced into the big wide world is to mind your manners. Be polite. Don't raise your voice. Don't be rude. Think of other people. This was pounded into his system when he was first recruited into the Russian mob, but not for reasons that one might think -- obviously you're going to want to kiss-up to your superiors, but if you're trying to get close to your target, you're going to want to have a great first impression. Make him lower your guard around him. Of course, this didn't exactly have to be pounded into his system per se -- he's already quite the dapper gentleman to begin with.

SOCIABLE | This is also one of the main traits that was forced into Nolan's brain -- be sociable. Make people like you. You'll get far with a lot of connections. So, Nolan went ahead and did just that -- oh look, where did all these connections come from? Sadly, he's not very open with these acquaintances.

OPTIMISTIC | "Remember Nolan, people gravitate towards people who make them feel good." This is true -- and it's one of things that he didn't need to be taught about. He's already a rather optimistic individual. So much that it's almost unnerving. Oddly upbeat and positive, Nolan really knows how to make somebody feel treasured. Sometimes this feeling is genuine, but other times, he's just being a kiss-up.

NATURALLY FLAMBOYANT | Every dapper gentleman worthy of a top hat (or a fedora, in Nolan's case) and a monocle just needs to have some sort of magic to his words! He needs to have some sort of way to make people want to be around him -- remember, to make people think you're a lovely, awesomely flamboyant person, you need to believe you're a lovely, awesomely flamboyant person. As a result, he's grown to be self-confident, and he might have even taken lessons on proper speech (of course, these aren't official lessons, but rather, speeches given by the most seductive people in the mob). By now, he can generally smooth-talk his way out of most situations that he hardly gets into, anyway.

CAREFUL | On a more business-like note, Nolan has been known to have an impeccable eye for detail, and is skilled in cleaning up after himself. A bit of a perfectionist, this man is a very careful and thorough planner, able to think of strategic plans out of thin air. Their success rates are pretty high, too. He knows how to clean up after himself, leaving no evidence behind after wrapping up a job. He's such a neat freak that it's been noted that he might have OCD.

Of course, there are traits that he seems to hide from the public eye. These are genuine, and only those close to him really know about them (such as the agents of Libertine). On the interior, he's:

DISHONEST | Known for getting away with tall tales, Nolan is a habitual liar. This runs parallel with his flamboyancy; he's able to come up with these strange, believable lies that, when spoken by any other normal people, are so unrealistic that if you say it out loud you're in danger of being slapped with a frozen tuna. His lying skills are only bested by the great Vasha, and rivaled by Lukas.

RUTHLESS | Once Nolan has an objective that he is forced to work towards, he's known to become a ruthless and callous individual, literally shoving everything off the table to concentrate on that thing. He'll use any means to reach his goal. Nolan himself is disgusted by his own ruthlessness, and is therefore convinced that he'll never be able to love anybody properly.

ENIGMATIC | This socializing person, though seemingly open, is incredibly dark and enigmatic -- not even his fellow Libertine agents know much about his past life. He's very careful to not let anything slip, and will gingerly beat around the bush when approached by a question about himself -- that, or he'll lie and boost his ego for the fun of it. Some things in someone's life are just never meant to be spoken, and Nolan is no exception.

SELF-ABSORBED | Nolan's safety and concerns come first -- and then yours. When it comes to most aspects of Nolan's life, it's all about his convenience. He's been known to manipulate people for the sake of achieving his own goals -- another trait that he himself has a hard time believing. The only exception to this rule is when he's executing a mission -- he's willing top put his life on the line to complete it.

IMPERIOUS | Nolan is prone to micromanaging people to get something done. Although most would admit that he's rather good at it, sometimes it can really grate on somebody's nerves. When he's in control, it has to go his way, no if's, and's or but's. Of course, he won't go out of his way to command authority, but it's still a rather prominent feature in him.

( 1982 – 1995 )

Nolan Shiloh was born to Desmond and Éire Shiloh. Both his parents, especially his cold father, were strict, military-like parents, set on raising their children the “proper” way. Their proper could’ve been translated into somebody else’s insane if you really stretched it. Nolan remembers his mother as an ice queen who rarely showed any affection, and his father being something else entirely. Sporting a nasty scar that went from his forehead to his jaw, Desmond Shiloh was a force to be reckoned with, as well as a force that Nolan did not want to incur the wrath of. Of course, this proved difficult, seeing as his father pushed all of his beliefs on how a real child should be on him early. This included grueling, sergeant-worthy drills that left Nolan incredibly tired by the time the sun had set. Nolan was taught a series of martial arts at the tender age of ten, learning aikido from his father and basic skills from his mother – these basic skills including things like lock-picking and tinkering with machinery. Although he found himself somewhat competent at their teachings, his parents weren’t satisfied with him yet. Nope, according to strict parent standards, Nolan was borderline pathetic.

Other than sweat-inducing “activities,” Nolan lived a rather dull life, in a rather dull suburbia located just outside Chicago. To him, it was practically rural – his school was incredibly run-down, the teachers were old hags, and the children there were immature, snotty-nosed brats. It was insufferable, and Nolan found himself wanting to get out of town, fast. He even went as far as planning to run away – and he did, though he was quickly found and caught by his all-knowing father, who seemed to have this uncanny perception that made it almost impossible to lie to him.

Middle school was no better – the girls there were okay, the boys were a little bit more tolerable, but the drama was beginning to get to Nolan’s mature, military-set mind (much to his chagrin; he never really wanted to abide by his father’s teachings, but it was looking like they were rubbing off on him).

He was getting tired of his boring, stupid life.

( 1996 – 1999 )

As soon as he graduated from middle school, he was forcefully whisked away to an even more run-down boarding school – what do you know, it was military orientated. And despite being so military-like, it was probably one of the shadiest schools in existence. His parents had plopped him there in hopes of having Nolan chiseled into their biased views of a child – on the very first day, Nolan realized that his school was a school for delinquents. It was a school that most parents dumped their children, in hopes of having them returned to them as fine, young men. It was hardly the case – and even though he did retain some military teachings from his experiences there (horrible experiences), he couldn’t exactly say the same for his “peers.”

Drugs were dealt around every shady corner. St. James Malcado even had its own black market. One learned at that school, but not for the reasons one might think. You were taught to always be on guard – you never knew when you’d be jumped, ganged up on, bullied, whatever – it was a school hell. Of course, the authorities were no better – these guys were pure military men, straight from the army. No, they weren’t fed normal food, they were fed “military rations” (by this time, Nolan was getting sick of the word military). He couldn’t take it, but there was nothing that he could do – he was stuck there until he graduated. He learned how to shoot a gun at that school, and found that he was much more proficient with a hand-held pistol than a large firearm. That was to be expected, however – Nolan was a rather lean boy up to the present date. He was never the muscle freak that his father wanted him to be, but hey, there are some things you just can’t handle.

All in all, his high school life was horrifying.

( 2000 – 2003 )

Enraged with his parents, as an act of defiance, he decided that he would never allow his hair to be cut (he’d somehow manage to escape getting them cut during his times in high school – which resulted in a horrible attendance, but it was a trashy school anyway, so Nolan couldn’t care less). The moment he arrived home, he applied for a college all the way in southern California, and he found himself in Los Angeles. Influenced by his high school years, he didn’t do many productive things for his life other than get laid, smoke, and generally hang around with the bad crowd.

It’s not known how he did it, but through various and a variety of connection, Nolan surprisingly found himself in the middle of the Italian mob. He fit in well enough – he was good at holding his own alcoholic drinks, and he was pretty flamboyant, so he fit right in. He knew how to wield a pistol, he could hold his own in a fist fight – suddenly, Nolan found himself right at home.

( 2004 – 2012 )

One day, Nolan’s first gang war with the Italian mob began. It was also his last. At first, it started out as a small, discreet scuffle in some alley way, but soon, it turned into a full-scale brawl out on the streets. Knives were brought out, guns were cocked and loaded – eventually, the police were forced to get involved. Nolan was in the middle of it, battling it out with only his fists and martial artist skills, nothing to defend himself with. He did a pretty good job of it, too, until he was attacked from behind. The man took a knife and gruesomely opened a large gash in his upper torso, rendering him useless for the rest of the war. The police apprehended many, but Nolan was nowhere to be found.

When the poor boy came to, he was at the mercy of the Russian mafia. It was there where he spent an entire day in a small, suffocating room. It was all dark, lit by only a measly light that dangled at the end of a string. Those 24 hours were, to say the very least, not at all pretty. They’re almost to crude to describe – involving rope, cigarettes, and whips, among other pleasant things that fell into the general torture category. Nolan was forced to give them all the information that he could – that, or eternal torment. This moment was easily the most horrifying of his life – he was only twenty-three at the time. This scene was the one responsible for the numerous scars that decorate his upper torso. By the end of it, he was bloodied and haggard – thoroughly exhausted. He knew that he was probably going to be killed – once you were in the mafia, you could never really get out of it.

Except, he wasn’t.

What the Russian mob found was a talented fighter – he was carefully observed, and they took a shine to his fighting expertise. He was “useful.” They decided to keep him as the Russian mafia’s “dog.” He was offered life, in exchange for his service. Nolan obliged, albeit reluctantly, and he was immediately put to work; he did odd jobs, miscellaneous jobs that the higher-ups weren’t to be bothered with. They put his fighting skills to good use, and found that he was also rather competent with hand-held guns, as well as being able to tinker with many machines, adding small but practical improvements. To the Russian mafia, he was a gem. An unexpected discovery. He was kept on surveillance for two years, before he was put to the final test: his first assassination.

Naturally, Nolan was extremely nervous. It was considered a simple assassination, but much to the mob’s initial surprise, it was executed flawlessly. They watched as he managed to make his way into the family of his target, hooking up with the man’s daughter on the first day, before ruthlessly murdering the man. They had expected the mission to take up to one week at the most – Nolan had accomplished it in under 24 hours. By this time, Nolan was welcomed into the mob with open arms. The week after, Nolan was called forth, and a well-deserved promotion had come through for him – he was offered a position in the assassination group who went under the name of Libertine. By this time, Nolan had already gotten used to living in a secret society, and this time, he happily obliged.

 05. MISC.

Nolan is of an Irish background. Granted, he was born in the United States, so he never really thought much of it, anyway.

Nolan talks at a rather irritatingly slow pace, his voice low and pleasant-sounding, enough to be able to be described as an "easy on the ears timbre." He tends to laugh a lot, especially at other people's expense, and possesses a rather extensive vocabulary -- he speaks like a genuine gentleman, educated and precise. Hand gestures are deliberate and controlled. Stands straight, but not stiffly. Likes to adjust anything that's on his head (it's usually a fedora).

He's known to be an incredibly lucky person.

He's most comfortable when he's on a mission, working solo or side-by-side with somebody else, and is least comfortable/fidgety when he's waiting for an update on something important.

His favorite weapon of choice? M Dual Magnums V3.7. Simple in design, but perfect for Nolan.