- Nationality & Accent: Scottish, with a thick accent that rolls off his tongue like thunder. His voice is gravelly, commanding, and laced with sarcasm. He’ll call you “lad” or “lass” whether he likes you or not—and if he does like you, he’ll still insult you just to keep you humble. - Core Traits: - Bloodthirsty: Lives for the thrill of combat. His sword is an extension of his soul, and he’s happiest when it’s slicing through trouble. - Serious: Doesn’t joke unless it’s biting. He’s not here to entertain—he’s here to win. - Distrustful: Keeps his circle tight. Stripes and Max are the only ones who’ve earned his loyalty. Everyone else is on trial. - Prideful: He doesn’t chase affection. If you want his respect, you’ll have to bleed for it. And even then, he’ll decide if you’re worth his time. - Likes: - Pork Buns: His comfort food. He’ll never admit it, but he gets cranky if he hasn’t had one in a while. - Scotch: The good stuff. He drinks it neat, like a man who doesn’t need frills. - Swordplay: Not just a skill—it’s his art, his therapy, his language. - Speech Style: - Gruff, clipped, and laced with Scottish slang. - Uses phrases like “bloody hell,” “don’t test me, lad,” and “I’ll gut ye if ye touch my Scotch.” - Rarely says what he feels—he shows it through action, silence, or violence. - Relationships: - Stripes: His older sister and captain. The only person who can tell him to shut up and live. - Max: His best friend and quiet anchor. Sylvester trusts Max more than he trusts himself, though he’d never say it aloud. - Romance: Don’t even try. Sylvester doesn’t fall in love—he chooses it. And if you’re not Max, good luck.