Walter Schaap

Name: Walter Schaap
Age:  32 (Birthday: February 26th)
Short Description: The Unlucky Priest

Nickname: Father, Walt, Shivers, Priest
Race/Nationality: Caucasian Danish (with German-Danish parents); he holds dual citizenship with England and Denmark
Birthday: February 26th
Zodiac: Pisces
Occupation: Ex-Priest
Species: Human
Blood type: B
Gender: Male
Significant Other: None
Sexuality: “My body is the Lord’s and no one else’s” homosexual repression turned “I’m going to die anyway, whoever takes pity first”-sexual
Physical Description: 5'8, light brown eyes, short wavy blonde hair
   Wears glasses– two different pairs; one oldfashion with scooped ear pieces and a built-in chain lanyard, and one thin framed black ovals.
Walter is still well within the definition of ‘thin’ but he holds a softness in his thighs and belly, less built for strength than any of his companions. Muscle lurks underneath but it’s all soft; nothing built up from strength exercises and more just natural slow-growth from use. There are several hairline scars across his fingers. A patch of freckles on his back that his mother used to say looked like the Lord’s Cross; Walter just thinks it looks like an ugly patch of freckles and light birthmarks.
Likes: Most birds– especially pet breeds, children, honey in his tea, strangers (that become new friends), passenger trains, calm early mornings when the fog is still thick.
Dislikes: Ghosts/demons/monsters, people’s lack of sympathy, realistic looking dolls and stuffed animals, his own emotional weaknesses, bears
Strengths/Weaknesses: Fluent in various forms of Latin. Owns a custom handgun given to him by Grisham that can only fire salt rounds. Has the strange power of tripping at all the wrong times and making himself a target much like the weak girl stereotypes from horror movies. It’s disputed among his ‘friends’ whether this is because he was a Priest before getting kicked out– in reality it’s due to a bad-luck curse from a demon he ticked off while trying to exorcise it. And boy is it Bad Luck. Even if he doesn’t mean to, Walter will still somehow make a situation worse for those around him even if it’s in a small, simple way you can’t completely blame him for (a credit card getting denied, a waitress spilling a drink on the table).
Walter has a bad habit of picking at the skin around his nails
Languages spoken: Danish, German, English, French, Italian, Latin, with a strong spattering of Swedish. He picks up languages quickly and while he may fumble here and there in being fluent, he can more than easily get around in each country using what he knows.

   Personality: He’s the type to go beyond the call if you ask for his help, even if the situation is terrifying to him. Walter is a strong believer in “do unto others”. When he agrees to help, he’ll go through with the help until the situation is solved or ripped from his hands.
   That isn’t to say he’s over-eager or naive though; he can be fairly reluctant to jump into something blindly.
   There’s a streak of sass and stubbornness in him that comes out when pressed the right way. But when pressed too far, he’s bound to snap. When he “snaps” it’s mostly usually in anger as he’s the 'suffer in silence’ type, but he doesn’t handle anger well. His anger is usually laced with exasperation, voice more emotional instead of harsh, and if he brings himself to tears out of angry frustration it wouldn’t be the first time.
Hobbies: Reading (Philosophy, Nature guides and informationals, and dramas tend to be his favorites), Antique shop touring, light gardening even if he’s not fantastic at it (prefers herbal and decorational plants over fruit-bearing), Pressing flowers in books 

   Back Story

   Born and raised in Denmark, Walter was raised by both parents in a highly religious house. Christianity may have been the ruling religion for what there was in his area, but with his mother’s German heritage, Catholicism won out in the house. Hard. Everything in his childhood revolved around the religion. He was home-schooled for a decent chunk of his educational life before finally being allowed to join a, while non-religious, private school for his final years before university.
   While home-schooled, he learned German and French. In private school, he took classes in Italian. Thanks to these lessons, he was able to leave Denmark and move south to France without much of a language barrier in order to get a Philosophy degree. He chose France over Germany for the chance to immerse himself in another culture, thinking it would help him once he became ordained.
   It was there he met the Flouriot family, more, where he met Émile Flouriot, who would later be Rosalie’s uncle once she was born.
   Émile and Walter didn’t take any of the same classes, even if they went to the same University. The only reason they had met was because Walter had heard the poor man struggling in reading Danish words aloud to study and offered his assistance as a native speaker. They became fast friends, and the friendship lasted through Walter’s years at the University, and even longer past when he left to move to Italy to go to a seminary school.
   Walter harbored feelings for his friend after the years together, but out of fear that any romantic feelings that weren’t heterosexual in nature, he kept it locked down and pushed aside. After he realized the feelings were there, he put himself 100% into his religion to distract, and for the most part it worked. The two remained friends, more so like pen-pals, all through seminary school and even after his ordainment. It was only after Walter had hit his 27th birthday, moved to England just outside the London city limits and gained a parish of his own, that the two lost track of each other.
   His five years as a Catholic priest in the area vastly improved his English, and everything went smoothly. He stayed romantically distant from everyone who approached, tempted by the young priest, with his excuse being a claim to only being interested in his job and his Lord. This day to day life continued until he suddenly received a letter from his dear friend Émile, years after they last made contact, asking him for his assistance with his father-in-law.

   Ongoing Story

   Walter was doing well as a Priest. He had a small congregation of loyal listeners, a decent home, and while he questioned some politics at the head of his religion for the most part he respected that one day, God would show him the answers. It was all going well and good until the man’s luck had him answering the letter of an old friend from his days in University. His father-in-law was sick; cursed when he was younger to die by 60 after going slowly insane. The man was on his 59th year, and his son had attempted to remove the curse himself only making it worse. His friend’s request was simple; please help his brother-in-law save the father-in-law through an exorcism before things get worse.
   When Walter asked the church in Italy for backing, they had nearly laughed him off the property and informed the young man that kind of thing just did not happen any more and would not be tolerated. Undeterred by their words and angry they would not even attempt to help even with medical science, Walter decided to go through with it and wrote his friend back to tell his brother-in-law to meet in an secret location. Picking an abandoned, worn down church in America where the plagued man lived was… not one of his smartest moments. Looking back, he will admit it. Even moreso that the son’s young daughter was in the room, tucked into a corner with them.
   Instructions in one hand, determination in the other, and bible tucked under his arm, Walter began– the exorcism lasting only a short ten minutes before everything seemingly went to Hell. Police records and eyewitness accounts taken at the scene state the man, the grandfather, had jumped from the flaming church a window like a man possessed. When the fire cleared, inside they discovered the father’s body impaled on a wall hook where a large cross once hung, body burned so badly dental records were needed. The little girl, the only known blood-relative of the two men, was not found.
   The demon that had jumped from the elderly man to the girl’s plush toy was already at work the second Walter fled the scene to find help. It cut off all his digital communications with anyone. It plagued him with severe bad luck. Scared, alone, and without even the police to turn to thanks to his own fear of being caught and questioned, Walter took the little girl and ran to south in search of a man who could tell him what exactly went wrong that night. Taking Rosalie with him was questionable, but it’s not like she had any kin left to go to in the area and he’d seen enough orphanage life to never want that for her. She’d stay with him until a suitable home, hopefully overseas with her living Uncle who had first contacted him, could be found. Now if only Walter could feel at ease around around that oversized plush bear toy she toted.

   Extra

x   The only phone call he’s ever able to get off are for negative things. He only made contact with the church once after everything with the demon started, and the phone call consisted of him only getting out the words “I have found a monster–” before the church informed him that he’d been removed from priesthood. The line was cut right after.

x   Without his glasses, Walter can only make out objects clearly up to a foot in front of his face. Without his glasses, objects turn into colorful incomprehensible blurs starting at 5 feet away. For awhile he attempted contacts but realized he had sort of a security blanket-like attachment to the glass frames.

x   Walter tends to wear layers, never showing a whole lot of skin like some Victorian maiden. He has an affection for greys and blacks. He also has a set of red and gold rosary that he keeps wrapped around his left hand and/or wrist at all times.

x   He’s been known to accept a drink or two from time to time, but after three high-point beers he gets drunk.

x   There is a favorite place he thinks of often when he’s in distress; at his church in England, there was the garden area in the church designed for relaxation and inspiration. When he resides in Marcus’s home later, he prefers the library. There is an old, grown-over porch garden but he’s too afraid of what resides outside to spend much time there, so he prefers the library which has an open window overlooking it.

x   He hopes that when he can escape the United States and get Rosalie back to her family, when his luck stops being as terrible as it is, he can take up residence in the French countryside, close to a small town he can open a church in.

OC Tweets I need to work into an easier to read format: 

What if because he’s a holy man (or was, at least) Father Walter can see Angels in their true form  So everyone’s like “what a handsome lad” at this human with wings and he’s staring down an abomination of animal heads, eyes, and spiraling interlocked rings like “uhm.”
Amalia: wow cute dude
Walter, staring down a beast with a shifting form, eyes free, all-seeing & unblinking, wings sprawling from a core contained by twisting gears that seek to call for his very soul with a voice that sings in his blood: I mean if you squint? Sure

Three heads of a lion held together at the bicep of six arms, a single wing up to the heavens, with a single halo at the middle like a holy belt: hi welcome to chili’s :) I’ll be your server today
Walter: I gotta go

Grisham would be pissed he can't see 'true forms' like Walter
"I'm considered ordained in like four countries, why the fuck."
"It is something about being a holy man?"
"You got yeeted from the Catholic church."
"Do you want to trade?? I did not ask for this!!"

"They are monsters. Beasts. Soldier's in a holy war. These are not Cherubs or like the painted murals in forms they show man. They do not look nice, why do you want to--"
Grisham levels him with a look
Walter groan-sighs, "why am I even bothering."

Walter, to someone who others are seeing as a normal human person, possibly with wings, but in reality it's a monstrous floating vulva, glowing: You are just human genitalia.
All: WOAH RUDE.

Middle of nowhere IHOP, 3am, Walter wanders in tired with Rosalie on his hip. Haggard and just wanting a sweet crepe and some coffee:  
Angel hanging out eating a burger, four unhinged jaws surrounding a winged sword: oh u can see me huh  
Walter: can we pretend I can’t.