Gabriel Valentino

Valentine is Death. Obviously. Hitman for hire and one of the best in the Business, he's frequently contracted by various mobs and political powers to take out higher-ranking targets. The Irish call him the Dullahan, the Russians call him Koschei. He handles all his own contracts and meetings, then passes down what he sees fit to his handful of subordinates. This way, if one were to try and trace hit jobs back up to the source, it always goes through him. And nobody goes through Valentine. This almost guaranteed anonymity is what makes him such a successful hitman with so many contracts. It's also a measure of protection. After the first three legendarily gruesome punishments he doled out for trying to trace back a hit job, people learned not to cross him.

Among the Horsemen, Valentine gets along best with War, the arms dealer. He bickers the most with Pestilence (although to be fair, Pestilence bickers with everyone. That's the point of Pestilence).

The first thing everyone sees when they meet Valentine is the skull tattooed over his whole face. Part of his daily routine is painting in what couldn't be inked; the white of bone and the black eye sockets. His dark waves are usually gelled back over his head, revealing a steep widow's peak. His eyes are a bright green, vibrant against the pallor and shadows of his painted face. He's tall and lithe, six foot three of solid muscle and cat-like grace.

His wardrobe mostly consists of black, white, and dark shades of gray. Split 50/50 between casual suits with the shirt half unbuttoned and pea coats with turtleneck sweaters. He saves the silk and suits for business meetings and nights in the club, and the sweaters for his occasional days off.

The skull is far from his only tattoo. His right sleeve is an inverse piece, his skin coated black and bare only to display the bones of a full skeletal arm that stretches from his collar bone down over the back of his hand. The skull tattoo itself reaches down the front of his neck, inky vertebrae stacked down to the hollow of his throat.

Laid back, casual, informal. A stellar sense of humor that more than occasionally drifts dark. Dude kills people for a living; that's the least of his damage. Charming and quick to laughter, he's a social magnet once people look past his intimidating appearance.

He carries himself with a charismatic confidence dashed with humility, and it oozes attractiveness over arrogance. This combined with his grace makes his walk a predatory prowl. His body language is always open and inviting, legs spread when he sits, arms wide. Like he hasn't a care in the world and welcomes all situations, regardless of the danger.

When most men look at him, they see an alpha, and only the fools try to challenge him. The wise either recognize defeat or bide their time. When most women look at him, they recognize him as the best sex they've never had (they're right, and he's always game to fix that if they are). He's the kind of attractive that knows it and doesn't need to prove it or show it off. His ego is rock solid; if he's interested and you're not, he'll back off with a smile and hunt somewhere else. He rarely takes anything personally.

Outwardly, Valentine is rather flippant about death and killing. It's simply his job, a means to an end, a necessary part of life in the underworld. Very good at compartmentalizing. On his rise to becoming Death, there was no job he wouldn't turn down. Even now that he has the power to reject any contract he wants, he rarely uses it. When he does, he never explains why; most assume he does it casually, on a whim.

Valentine's a no-questions-asked killer, and he means no-questions-asked. He doesn't want to know anything more than the Who and the How Much. If you start giving him Whys, he'll get testy. If he gets more Who than just a name, he'll get pissed. Valentine hates learning more about his hits than he needs to get the job done, and he'll start taking his anger out on you if you disrespect that.

Absolute beast. Voracious, insatiable, always on. Straight, but will (and has) flirted with inanimate objects when left to his own devices (he talks to everything, even when alone). Soft dom, but very adaptable. His confidence allows him to be very generous and attentive to his lovers. He treats every woman as an individual, doting and affectionate. He might even genuinely fall in love with each of his partners; sex is the only real connection he allows himself with other human beings. It's the only time he allows himself real emotions. But his self-control is ironclad, and he's always sure to sever those emotions when he parts ways. He's not opposed to being with the same woman multiple times however, if she catches his interest. He tells himself he's in control and can cut her off whenever he wants.