Post Tue Apr 21, 2015 7:44 pm

Howell Whitman

Howell Whitman

He's an artist by trade and mostly undeserved misfortune.”

Apparent Age: Early twenties
Height: 5’ 6”
Eyes: Gray-blue
Hair: Ash blond
Character Theme: Building a Mystery - Sarah McLachlan
Favorite Flavor of Ice Cream: Butter pecan

Things He Likes Quite a Bit
Arches hot pressed rag, licorice, single malt whiskey, black coffee, full sable brushes
Things He Doesn’t Like so Much
Anything more technologically advanced than a landline telephone,

Howell is a nice boy. Sure, there’s plenty of damning circumstantial evidence that could lead one to disbelieve that– his friendship with the DiSerenata siblings chief among them– but Howell really is just a gangly dork, complete with the requisite reading glasses. There’s very good reason Shiri’s daughter calls him ‘mom.’ Howell is the sensitive type, a painter, he’s good at math and with languages. He got good grades in school (he’s one of the only characters in tC who actually graduated college!), doesn’t smoke and didn’t drink until he was old enough to do so legally. He’s a push-over for kids and pretty women, plays the fiddle and speaks Yiddish. Howell would be the poster child for “a nice Jewish boy”, if only he was actually Jewish.

Because he is so sensitive, Howell can get moody, and is prone to bouts of world-weary brooding and cryptic quips about things he keeps close to the chest. On the same token, his sensitivity makes him very passionate, which gets him in to more trouble than a five-foot-six; one-hundred and thirty-six pound white boy has any business getting into. Howell got beat up a lot in secondary school, and in college and, like, yesterday, for exactly that reason. He might secretly be terrifying.

Just kidding.

It’s not a secret anymore.

Physical Description :
Puberty was not kind to Howell.

He is, as mentioned, on the short side, topping out at five feet and six inches. He never quite grew into all of his limbs, which is only made more awkward by how thin he is, a measly one hundred and thirty six pounds. He’s a blue-eyed, blonde-haired American boy, with no real excuse for why is hair is so entirely out of control except bad genetics. His head could best be described as a pile of dry hay. Really, if he were a woman, one could say he’s petite or cute. As he’ s not a lady… he’s still cute, he just resents being called as such.

Currently :
Howell spends most of his time getting dragged around Megatokyo by various parties, not that he’s particularly enjoying the trip. He gets nauseous every time he gets into the city proper, and even if he didn’t, the racial tensions make Megatokyo about as safe as Detroit during the sixties. Not exactly the ideal place to bring your young daughters.