Flint Deckard

Deckard washed up on the beach one fine morning in a heap with his wrists shackled behind his back. There he was fortunate enough to be found by friendlies who pawned him off to the Rosses before the Militia caught wind. The fact that he doesn't know a lot about himself doesn't seem to bother him and he's not much for conversation. Or clothes. He was pursued into the woods by restless spirits after attacking the local gravedigger over a disembodied arm and is currently holed up in the Rookery under Fletcher's roof. Afraid of the forest and of the dead.

Animals don't like him. The Militia probably won't either.


Full Name: Flint Deckard
Age: Unknown
Hair: Grey/Brown
Eyes: Blue

Status: Cursed
Occupation: Personal Assistant
Origin: Unknown
Allegiance: Cruikshank

First Seen: Driftwood
Last Seen: None

Description: Tall at 6'3" and wiry in conformation, Flint is perpetually distracted and frequently looks as if he's just rolled out of bed. The dusty grey-brown bristle of his hair is kept clipped into coarse order, scruffing down into a perpetual layer of stubble that's just beginning to grizzle at the fringes. His eyes are a stark, biting shade of slate overshadowed by expressive brows and flat lines etched across his forehead - the likes of which are balanced out by the frown lines carved in deep around his mouth.

Overall, his features are narrow and his eyes are slightly bugged, the grey fading in throughout his hair working with the lines around his face to make him appear older than he is. He tends to slouch, and he scowls more often than he smiles.


  • Unknown

Portrayed by: Hugh Laurie


"You figured 'Oh, here's a loser', you know? A deadbeat, someone the square community won't give a shit about."

"Well, aren't you?"

"…Well, yeah!"


The hero Dornie deserves.

There are a lot of things wrong with Flint Deckard. Habitually apathetic towards expectation and cagey under pressure, he is easily distracted, has a difficult time staying on task and doesn't seem to care about much of anything, the state of himself included. He is indifferent to many social norms and frustrated by ones that are actively obstructive to him getting something he wants, whether it be a drink or the freedom to wander off to be unproductive without consequence.

He wears whatever clothes, doesn't shave and doesn't like to talk much. It'd be easy to assume he's slow. There's an air of homelessness about him whether he is or not, but he keeps himself clean and tends to be cooperative when it's in his best interest. Not a total loss to society, then.

Manageable status quo aside, he is sometimes deliberately abrasive and occasionally reckless and/or violent. At other times he can be inexplicably difficult to find.


Lycanthropy has been a fact of life for Flint for as far as he can remember (not very far at all) and he has more in common with magical beasts than he does the average mage. The lunar cycle exerts significant influence over his behavior (and temper) – a vulnerability that can in turn be utilized against him by those with knowledge of the occult. He is susceptible to rituals and incantations wherein the moon plays a role. Silver, wolf hide, bone and other relevant magics can also be wielded against him. Silver in particular is, in accordance with myth, corrosively poisonous to his system. He knows the smell and will rarely attempt to stand his ground against it.

Like other supernatural entities, he may be summoned or directed or bound to a task.

While shifted he gains muscle and bone mass under fur but retains his overall lanky build and would be considered rangy by werewolf standards, if such standards exist. He can move swiftly on two legs or four, is impulsively reactive (suffering from an even greater lack of self-control than usual) and is armed with thick claws, brute strength and crushing jaws. Significantly, he is cursed and was not bitten. Therefore his condition is not contagious and does not turn others, although bites inflicted are messy and prone to other types of secondary infection. Additionally, while the full moon forces the worst out of him, he is capable of reactionary and willful shifts independently of any lunar presence.

When Shifted:

  • Approximately 7 ft standing upright, built wiry and lean about heavy bones
  • Broad shoulders, long arms, digitigrade haunch with thickened pads under hand and foot
  • Dark, brackish grey and brown fur, lighter about the underside and thickest in winter
  • Wolfish skull, robust fangs
  • Expressive ears and tail
  • Fast enough to bring down a horse in short bursts but quick to tire, suggesting a reliance on ambush predation
  • or a reliance on food sources slower than horses

Unlike skinwalkers, he has nothing to bond with or isolate himself from. The werewolf is not a separate entity, symbiotic or otherwise. He is only himself.