Full Name: Iante Clowes
Nickname(s): Natty, Iant'
Age: 26
Date of Birth: 29 February
Height: 6’1”
Weight: 169 lbs
Body Type: Linear
Hair: Ear length, blonde
Eye Colour: Hazel
Complexion: Pale Caucasian
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Iante Clowes
0 · 3,232 views · located in 
Wing City
a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Cloasse
Groups
Description
Medical Personnel: Iante Clowes
Full Name: Iante Clowes
Nickname(s): Natty, Iant'
Age: 26
Date of Birth: 29 February
Height: 6’1”
Weight: 169 lbs
Body Type: Linear
Hair: Ear length, blonde
Eye Colour: Hazel
Complexion: Pale Caucasian
Full Name: Iante Clowes
Nickname(s): Natty, Iant'
Age: 26
Date of Birth: 29 February
Height: 6’1”
Weight: 169 lbs
Body Type: Linear
Hair: Ear length, blonde
Eye Colour: Hazel
Complexion: Pale Caucasian
Personality
Iante is generally easy-going, and is kind to most he meets, although he does have his odd moments when he gets a little out of temper. As well as being the second-youngest male in the SIB, Iante is also the only outwardly homosexual bloke. However, the others in the group don't act differently around Iante and he himself could care less as to those who think his preferred sexuality is disgusting or ugly.
Equipment
Despite primarily being a junior autopsy technician, Iante also has the training required to be a medic on the field when necessary -- this means that Iante does in fact carry a semi-automatic pistol when he is out of the autopsy lab.
Iante typically wears scrubs when he is in the autopsy lab, and usually pulls on standard SIB gear when he is going out onto the field (this gear is usually a pair of black trousers and a black jacket with the letters SIB on the back and sleeve over his scrubs). Outside of work, Iante is as open to fashion as anyone else is and does tend to follow the odd trend if he feels it suits him.
Iante may also carry an acoustic guitar. It has a black matte finish, and has "Iante" in gold cursive written just under the reverb. Before actually joining the SIB, Iante was predominantly musical, and enjoys playing his guitar as a relaxing hobby.
So begins...
Iante Clowes's Story
Iante Clowes pushed the door open, looking into the bar for a moment. "For fuck's sake!" he cursed. "Where the fuck is tha' woman?" He walked inside, shaking his head. "Ro!" he called, not putting it past the pregnant woman to have hidden herself. "Ro, 'Ah was kiddin'! Bugger..." He ran a hand through his blond hair, grumbling under his breath. "'Ah was gonna let her play with the fuckin' guitar." He did indeed have his guitar over his shoulder, the black leather strap clearly visible on his dark green jacket, the neck of the guitar settled just at his knees.
Iante Clowes looked behind him, as if expecting to see Romanae sneaking outside again, but, on finding no one there, he went to a table, shifting his guitar to settle it against the table. He settled himself quietly on a chair, tapping his fingers on his knees as he thought as to where the angry, pregnant woman could possibly have disappeared off to.
Iante Clowes shook his head. He had no idea where Romanae would run off to - especially not around here. His light eyes strayed around the bar, looking at each of the patrons for the briefest of moments before moving on, eventually coming back to rest on his guitar. He easily ignored Don, and those talking to him, in favor of dragging the guitar into his lap, fingers teasing at the strings.
Iante Clowes frowned, tugging at a string before shifting his left hand from the neck to adjust the tension on the string. "Damn Tommy, playing with it again. 'Ah told him not to, an'all." He shook his head, returning his fingers to the frets as he resumed his almost silent playing. "'Ah swear, if he thinks he can jus' play about with it, 'Ah'll get Ro to put him on Creepy-duty and see where that gets him. Dead, probably." He glanced up at Don and the pair who were doing the whole 'you shouldn't do this, that and the other thing' routine. He snorted, returning to his guitar. Intimidation was such a weak form of torture.
Iante Clowes raised an eyebrow at the apparent want for hostility. "Well, now 'Ah see why Ro likes it in here," he muttered with a shake of his head. "Pointless fightin'. Righ' up her street. 'Less it's guns."
Iante Clowes glanced at Tiger, wondering who the hell she was talking to, and then at Scarlett. "What in the fuck..?" he murmured, rolling his eyes before returning to his guitar, fingers drawing easily over the strings, lightly coaxing sounds from the reverb. "Crepa probably fits in here, too."
Iante Clowes raised a hand in greeting to Tam, a polite smile on his face. He had barely noticed Scarlett's fit of laughter, having seen far weirder things come from Crepa. He looked around the bar, properly, this time, and hummed under his breath, tapping a rhythm on the strings.
Iante Clowes winked cheekily at Tam, leaning back in his chair to continue his half-hearted watching of the bar, guitar resting on his knees.
Iante Clowes was quite ignorant of Tam's blushing. Iante usually remained unawares of most females and their reactions to his various quirks. He really didn't care, to be honest, as he wasn't romantically interested in women.
Iante Clowes seemed quite calm as he idly pulled at the guitar strings, his left hand shifting minutely to reach separate frets. On the inside, however, he was going spare. The pregnant woman that he really should be force-feeding vitamins had disappeared after a minor spat, and her sister (or who he thought was her sister) was nowhere to be seen. In fact, Iant had absolutely no idea whether Crepa had returned the night before or not. He sincerely hoped she was not laying dead in a ditch somewhere. Or terrorizing animals up a tree in the forest.
Iante Clowes let his head fall back, a low sigh escaping his lips. "Maybe she's went back and taken her vitamins all by herself," he thought aloud, before smirking and shaking his head. "No hope of that." The gay male then smiled at nothing in particular. Ro could handle herself if need be, even if she were pregnant. In fact, that likely gave her an advantage. She could mood-swing her way out of any situation, no doubt. Iante then laughed, an amused chuckle as he returned to his music.
Iante Clowes idly wondered if women were attracted by the sound of their favorite musical. Of course, that wouldn't help if Iante couldn't remember Ro's most-loved musical. His fingers drummed on the wood of his guitar, before he snapped his fingers. "That's the one!" he said. "Phantom of the Opera, good grief. What was her favorite song, again..?"
Iante Clowes frowned, his light eyes staring at a random space on the wall opposite him. "What in the fuck was tha' song..? It's no' Wandering Child, and it's no' Think of Me... Music of the Night? Tha's gotta be it." He nodded to himself, turning his attention to the strings on his guitar, idly plucking them for a moment before moving into the melody of the song. He quietly half-spoke, half-sang the words under his breath. "Nigh' time sharpens... heightens each sensation... Darkness stirs and wakes imagination..."
Iante Clowes shook his head, stopping his playing. He never could get into the Phantom of the Opera like Ro could. He let out an amused breath, standing from his seat, slinging his guitar over a shoulder. He gave one more glance around the bar, smiling his usual polite smile to anyone who met his gaze.
Iante Clowes quirked a corner of his lips at Sable, wandering over to the bar to lean his elbows down on the counter, unfamiliar with the lack of bartender. The Irish soldier hummed away to himself, an eyebrow tilted slightly as he looked around him.
Iante Clowes shifted his guitar so that he was holding it properly again, glancing down at the gold "Iante" written in cursive on the black wood. He smirked, remembering the first time he met Tommy - he was a very clumsy teenager. How the hell he managed to scratch the entire face of the guitar simply by holding it, Iante had yet to figure out, but he had to admit that when Tommy had insisted on getting it fixed, the addition of his name was an amusing sight. He shook his head, now grinning. Tommy always did have to glitz everything up unnecessarily.
Iante Clowes looked once again behind the bar, shaking his head at the absence of the bartender. "Tha's odd," he murmured. "Usually a 'tender, otherwise all the bums and idiots take drink for free." He glanced over at Tam as she entered, waving a hand once more. Iante was nothing if not polite to people who hadn't presented themselves as idiots.
Iante Clowes grinned, shaking a head. People here were so different compared to the brash, yet polite folks back in Scotland. The lot here seemed to be either... stoic, or crazy. Iant imagined that Romanae's usual demeanor must've fit in well at the bar, but Crepa... She was practically the stark opposite of Romanae.
Iante Clowes leant back against the bar, a slight smile on his face as he clasped his fingers loosely in front of his stomach. Perhaps he had just been lacking in a public life for a while, but he found the bar definitely odd.
Iante Clowes raised an eyebrow as a male sauntered behind the bar and made his own drink. Yet another thing that confused the Irish man. He shook his head, running his fingers through his blond mop of hair. "Never gonna get used to tha'," he muttered. "Definitely no' gettin' used to tha'." Iante only crinkled his nose at the smoke, but he made no other motion to make his disdain for the habit known. Iante, being quite a peaceable creature, never thought of speaking out against people and their live and health choices.