■I hear voices. They say; Keitaro_Kimishima
■They call me; Stefan Walters
■The candles I count; 21
■ Doctor says am a; Male
■ I'm interested in; Women
■ Oh yes, I'm human, ex-soldier
■I act out!; Although Stefan's demeanor can be seen to some as a little frightening or intimidating--especially when he loses his temper--this ex-soldier can have quite the warm heart. This was rather different when he was in the army.
■ sweet cherry pie give me that!; Storms, Beer (though he's not a drunk), sleeping under an open sky, children (he can be very fatherly if he tries)
■ Ewww get it away!; guilt, bringing up the worst of his past, being made a fool of, war, large flames (brings back bad memories)
■ A tiny tale...; Stefan was a soldier a few years back. Back then, he and his comrades were hardly human; they were cold-hearted and merciless to their enemies. Even he gave his share of merciless deeds. After witnessing the murder of a whole village's men and children and the torment of the women caused by his own men, Stefan came to realize what he had been doing all these years. He thought he'd been fighting for good, but it was his own army that had been full of evil intentions. He left the military, hoping never to return, also hoping to 'turn a new leaf', as they say. (whatever happens next depends on the RP plot)
■ I may hold a secret; Stefan feels great guilt about the murders he witnessed which is much of the reason he has such a soft spot for children. In a way, he thinks he can redeem himself for his mistakes by showing kindness towards the helpless.
■Here's another thing; Stefan has a large scar (one caused from a stab) on the left side of his chest, very close to his heart. He got this when he tried to stop a few soldiers from killing the innocent villagers, but he was obviously no match against so many others. They saw Stefan as a traitor and one soldier went so far as to attempt to kill him. The soldier failed, but at least managed to knock Stefan unconscious while the rest of the soldiers burned down the village.
