C'est ce que j'ai dit.-Alexander Corvus:.
Les conditions de leur voyage n'étaient pas exactement ce qu'Alexandre avait l'habitude de faire, les hommes aussi empaillés dans une petite camionnette. Il aurait payé pour quelque chose de plus confortable, mais ce groupe de rag tag était le plus proche qu'il était venu à des amis et il a essayé (généralement en vain) de maintenir les dépenses extravagantes au minimum pour ne pas causer de problèmes avec le groupe. Un beau journal de terrain en cuir reliait sur sa main ouverte, couvert de l'élégant script de notes et de diagrammes soigneusement écrits de la flore et de la faune repérées le long du voyage malgré les secousses et bosses le long du chemin. Comparativement à Louise, qui semblait avoir à retenir son souffle pour tourner une page de son livre, on pouvait passer un temps déraisonnable à réfléchir à la façon dont un tel exploit était possible. C'était la voie d'Alexandre, cependant, l'environnement dans lequel il se trouvait semblait rarement entraver ou perturber ses mouvements lisses et intentionnels.
La camionnette est arrivée à un arrêt de brouillage dans la saleté quelqu'un avait injustement nommé un parking, les autres se réveillant du sommeil ou d'autres activités. Alexandre a pris un moment pour sonder ses amis, chacun à des degrés divers de matériel de camping utile et de tenue. Certains avaient évidemment mis plus d'idées sur les fonds dans leur équipement que d'autres. Fermant doucement le journal de campagne avant de le glisser dans sa satchel, Alexander prit un moment pour lisser les quelques rides du costume décontracté Armani qui s'était formé alors que Louise s'était jetée en lui pendant le voyage. Il avait opté pour un gilet et une cravate au-dessus d'une veste en raison de la nécessité de grimper, mais même ainsi, il regardait hors de place au milieu de la nature sauvage dekota.
"Prêt pour une aventure?"
Après avoir suivi les traces de Louise, il a glissé de la chaise et s'est redressé dans le même mouvement fluide avant de partir du van. La montagne les surplombait, immuable et inébranlable."Depend si vous avez besoin d'une sieste au préalable, Jake", le coin de ses lèvres recourbé dans un sourire alors qu'il chiait Jake.
Name:
Sabastian Matthews
Age:
23
Gender:
Male
Appearance:

He never had white hair when he was younger. Around the age of 16 it had begun to turn white. He found out that in his genetics premature grey hair ran in his family, starting with his great-grandfather. Despite that his stumble of a beard remains light brown. He stands roughly at 6'3" and 200lbs with an athletic build. Usually he can be seen wearing brown boots, black army pants that he picks up from surplus stores, brown or white shirts and a red or black jacket.
Sin: Wrath
Personality:
He is quite the optimistic one, trying to see the positive side of things rather than the negative. Sabastian is able to keep things alive through his energetic and welcoming aura and his eccentric attitude about life. However, after taking the artifact of wrath, his disposition has slowly started changing, going from the "glass-half-full" attitude to a more "glass-half-empty" view. He has become a bit more temperamental and cynical towards life, and even more so violent. Sabastian has caught himself lashing out as of late, immediately apologizing to those around him but the further they delve into the depths of hell, the worse he is becoming. The power over one of nature's elements has slowly been going to his head, worming his way into his personality and infecting his mind. He is becoming his own enemy.
Fears:
The fear of dying and remaining in hell is the most present fear he has gained. That, or losing himself to the madness of power stemming from the wrath artifact.
Biography:
Ah the college years, he first met his friends at a frat house party, seen playing beer pong, but with shots. He was the kid that puked on the officers foot at the end of the night and attempted to run away, only to slam his head into the cruisers quarter panel. That was fun explaining to his parents. But Sabastian was more than that. He partied as hard as he worked, elevating him self to the fourth of his graduating class despite his head being filled with hops and fermented corn. On occasions he would hold group studies with them or invite them to his rental house, paid for by his father and mother.
But outside of college is where his friendship with them took off and it started with the death of his father. A drunk driver took his father out when he was returning home from a double at his job. Sabastian was a wreck and in a drunken stupor attempted to commit suicide via a bullet to the brain. No one knew where to find him and had gotten the police involved but it was his friends, specifically his crush, that managed to find him as the rest followed suit. They stood by him throughout his grieving and it drew him closer to them. A few years after that they could be seen doing many things.
Their friendship was etched into stone when this event arose, saving one of his friends from a near death moment. However, he had blacked out at that point, the point he had took possession of wrath. His fate is yet to be determined as is his mental health. A lot can happen in a short frame of time, but a lot more can happen in the depths of the seven circles of the Fallen's dwelling.