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Hansel Houwen

"Go ahead, shoot me, but you better pray that I'm dead."

0 · 323 views · located in Folksdale

a character in “Turning Pages”, originally authored by peace_of_mind7, as played by RolePlayGateway


"Look, we go in there, we light 'em up, and we leave. There's no tricks or gimmicks. We get the job done. The end."



Hansel Augustus Houwen

Hans or Hansy (Only Gretel can call him that)


Origin Story:
Hansel and Gretel


Hansel doesn't necessarily see gender, but he does judge intellect. Seeing as he considers himself allergic to bullshit, Hans has a very low tolerance for bigots, idiots, ignorance or anything of the sort.



| Hunting
| Training
| Fighting
| Sarcasm
| Gretel
| His Crossbow
| Humming Old Folk Songs
| The Color Crimson
| The Heirloom That His Father Gave Him
| The Outdoors
Mutton |
The Color Blue |
Witches |
Pansies |
Dirty Weapons |
Being Called A Coward or Chicken |
Losing |
Being Opposed |
Unnecessary Deaths |
Thinking About His Parents |
|Losing the only family that he has left|

|Becoming a toy for a witch|

|Being Buried Alive|

|Dying Brutally|




||Working Out||
Being a hunter, Hansel must maintain a certain physical standard. He finds working out as a great stress reliever, all while sculpting his body to keep it in tip-top shape.

Hansel is practically a pig, he loves to chow down and stuff his face when he can. He also has a sweet tooth.

||Polishing His Arsenal||
Hansel has a bit of OCD when his weapons are involved. He cleans them until they are spotless, after every kill and hates when Gretel moves them from where he placed them.

||Magic Immunity||
Thanks to the love of their parents, both Hansel and Gretel were gifted with heirlooms that protect them from any form of magical oppression. However, they are not immune to physical harm. They are still vulnerable to things outside of the magical field.

Regarding hand to hand combat, Hansel is highly skilled in the area. He doesn't fight fair and likes to play dirty. He is very resourceful, which he relies on during battle. Don't be surprised if he ends up using a tree branch to bash in a skull or broken shards of glass to stab a witch repeatedly.

Within his arsenal are a wide range of weaponry that he made his business to know how each an everyone ticks. He has familiarized himself with crossbows, pistols, rifles, and a reasonable amount of explosives.

Despite his manly image, Hansel is a fairly talented singer and also a great guitar player. He doesn't flaunt this and rarely displays the talent.

Hansel can't cook to save his life. The most he can do is chop vegetables and that alone takes concentration.

||Being Nice||
Hansel has a bad habit of speaking his mind and not censoring his thoughts. No matter how vulgar, rude, or cruel, Hans doesn't give a damn. He hates beating around the bush and believes in telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth...regardless of how brutal and painful it may be.

||Sympathy or Empathy||
Hansel has closed his emotions off to the world and hardened himself. He feels no sympathy for the dead. He can come across as heartless, but when it comes to his sister, Hansel actually cares. However, to everyone else he is practically stone.




Hansel is a first rate hardass with a short fuse. Some may consider him a ticking time bomb, due to his trigger finger and no nonsense attitude. He has his flaws and his good qualities, but he doesn't have a healthy balance of both. His most prominent qualities consist of:

|His Dark Humor|
Hansel possesses a very cynical type of humor that is laden with sarcasm, caustillity, and utter bitterness. His words are like daggers, cutting into the flesh and bring forth pain. He doesn't try to hurt people, but it just happens and he gave up trying to improve this aspect of himself.

|His Intelligence|
Aside from his clever quips, Hansel is fairly intelligent. He is pretty good at puzzles, concocting strategical plans, and building traps.

|His Passion|
He is a very passionate man that puts his all into something. He does everything full on, never holding back for anything. Go big or go home is what he believed in.

Those are simply a few qualities that Hansel has. He is also observant, spotting every little detail and knowing body language. Between the two of the Houwen siblings, Gretel is more of the talker, but Hansel is the ladies man. He has the ability to change his hard persona and dazzled women with his smile and false kindness. He can give off the impression that he is interested and actually charming, but as soon as he sees no more use in the male or female he's flirting with, his mask falls he is back to his cold stony self.


From the moment he first held his father's pistol in his hands, Hansel knew that he was meant to be a hunter. He looked up to his parents, for they were the role models in his life. It was his idea to go with his parents into town, so they ventured out, seeking information to find the Gingerbread Witch that's been killing children in town. He was excited, holding onto his heirloom tightly as they trekked forward. However, tragedy struck and they were ambushed. In a panic, their father sent the siblings away into the forest., but Hansel spared one more glance, watching the witch slaughter his mother and his father trying in vain to execute the beast.

He and Gretel found refuge and at that moment he made a promise to himself and his parents. "I will kill all of them...every last one of those monsters, for you." He then made it his mission to rid the world of witches and take care of Gretel; to keep her breathing by any means necessary...even at the risk of his own life.


~Hans is extremely protective of his sister and will not hesitate to kill to keep her alive.
~Hans can speak perfect German
~His heirlooms are his father's ring and his father's pistol.
~Han's main melee weapon is his sword and his favorite weapon overall is his crossbow.



So begins...

Hansel Houwen's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alice Kingsley Character Portrait: Jack Helyer Character Portrait: Jane Banks Character Portrait: Maleficent Dejana "Mal" DeBrock Character Portrait: Gretel Character Portrait: Hansel Houwen Character Portrait: Marigold Lokes Character Portrait: Lacey Swan Character Portrait: Ali Marchwood Character Portrait: Anton Taylor Character Portrait: Peter Pan Character Portrait: Leona Hopewell Character Portrait: Michael Richard Banks Character Portrait: Christopher Robin Character Portrait: Wendy Darling Character Portrait: Eddie Bern Character Portrait: Gabriel Leroy Character Portrait: Samantha Arthur Character Portrait: Daniel Wolfe
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#, as written by Issa

Time: 7.30am, Saturday
Weather: Fine, light breeze
High of 23ºC (73ºF)

Folksdale Morning Radio:
'Good morning Folksdale, I'm your morning host Jiminy and what an excellent morning it is. Beautiful blue sky, stunning outlook onto our fairytale town and the promise of a magical day to come. There's little to announce from the night, but today promises to be a stunner. Gepetto is having a sale on wooden figurines and Belle's Bookstore will be hosting a book signing with the award winning author of 'Lamps: 101 uses'. I've also been told to remind all our listeners to watch out for the bridge just past Spinners' Lane, it appears a troll has taken up residence beneath...'


Sunlight filtered through the white curtains, a gap in the hangings letting a single ray of golden sunlight spill into the room. It landed across Jane's eyes and acted as well as any buzzing alarm to tell the girl that it was time to rise. With a single groan of protest Jane pushed the blankets off her and sat up straight. She stretched, her arms out behind her back and then above her head. A moment later, sleep finally receding, she set her legs onto the carpeted floor and stood. A snap of her fingers flicked the light switch across the room up and the bulb turned on, illuminating the chaos of Jane's room. Clothes covered the majority of her floor, clean and dirty mixed indiscriminately. On her desk a spell book sat open surrounded by scribbled notes. Jane had been looking through the tome late last night, hoping to find any useful spells to help replace Mary Poppins' protective spells on the town.

A scratching at Jane's door alerted her to the presence of a persistent visitor. Another snap of her fingers saw the knob turn and the door opened. The visitor, the black and grey family cat, was old, tubby and probably thought that he ruled the house.
"Morning Thomas" Jane murmured as the cat wondered in. Thomas didn't deign to respond, instead he pranced over to Jane's bed, jumped up and immediately began to make himself comfortable. "Lucky for some" Jane muttered to the cat as she pulled off her pyjamas and swapped them for her running gear. Luckily the shirt, shorts and sneakers were all in a neat pile on her drawers and not amongst the mountain of clothing on her floor. Dressed, Jane left her room and wondered downstairs, dropping into the kitchen for a bottle of water and a light morning snack. Not seeing any of her family up yet Jane let herself out of the house quietly, grabbed her bike and pushed it out to the street.

The ride to Eddie's place was relatively short. Traffic was light early morning and the weather was fine. No doubt the day would prove a stunning one, even know Jane could see little sign of the weather turning fowl. The morning was bright, crisp and perfect for running, which was coincidentally what Jane was about to do. With a final pedal on her bike she cruised down the street before skidding to a stop outside Eddie's house and jumping onto the pavement. She pulled her bike up to the front of the house and let it rest beside the front door. Jane glanced at the watch on her wrist, 7.20 am exactly. Right on time. She hopped up to the front door and gave the frame a short, sharp rap. A squawk, that of an angry bird, answered followed by the sound of feet. Jane took a step back as the door opened and Eddie greeted Jane, a disgruntled parrot seated on his arm.


Eddie had been up for a few hours. His current roomate, a emerald green parrot named Murray, was a demanding fellow and required frequent assurances that everything was alright. Eddie, used to such sleepless nights, was more concerned that Murray's persistent squawks would wake the two humans that Eddie shared the house with. Eddie frequently brought sick animals home from the vets, ones that needed overnight observation. Most of them weren't quite as loud as Murray. Because of that Eddie was up and dressed before the sun rose, making breakfast for his human house mates as a way of saying sorry in case the parrot had pestered them overnight.

Bacon fried in the pan, eggs were being scrambled and Eddie had just finished buttering the toast. If the smell didn't rouse his flatmates he was sure that the sun beginning to stream through the house would. Nevertheless he had a plan B in case they couldn't pull themselves out of bed before the food went cold. Eddie placed the food on a plate and tucked it into the oven. Hopefully it would stay warm in there until they saw it, and if it was still there when Eddie came back from his run then he would just have to eat it himself. Eddie glanced at the kitchen clock, realised he had little time left and quickly scribbled a note for Sam explaining that he had left her breakfast. He even drew her a sad excuse for a dog beneath the note, knowing that she loved the animals.

A moment later, Murray hanging off one arm, Eddie answered the door to find his long time friend and running buddy waiting.
"Two secs." Eddie said before quickly dodging back into his room and gently placing Murray back in his cage. He arrived back at the front door to find Jane still in the same place,
"Something smells good." She commented as Eddie closed the front door behind him.
"Bacon and eggs." Eddie explained as the two began a gentle jog down the street, "With any luck they'll be some for us when we're done." He added.
"Definitely better than porridge." Jane giggled. Jane had always found it strange that Eddie's favourite food was porridge and she enjoyed teasing him about it. Eddie decided against replying, instead he simply pocked his tongue out and directed the pair down their usual track that would eventually lead them into and through the forest.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alice Kingsley Character Portrait: Jack Helyer Character Portrait: Jane Banks Character Portrait: Maleficent Dejana "Mal" DeBrock Character Portrait: Gretel Character Portrait: Hansel Houwen Character Portrait: Ali Marchwood Character Portrait: Anton Taylor Character Portrait: Peter Pan Character Portrait: Leona Hopewell Character Portrait: Michael Richard Banks Character Portrait: Christopher Robin Character Portrait: Eddie Bern Character Portrait: Gabriel Leroy Character Portrait: Samantha Arthur Character Portrait: Daniel Wolfe
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Organizing a bookstore was like life--a delicate balance between beauty and functionality. On the one hand, scattered books and slightly askew shelves gave the place a sort of welcoming, lived-in look. On the other hand, an organized, spotless store was the most effective for finding exactly what a customer was looking for and appealed to those used to a bigger city way of life. Wendy preferred something in between the two, and the store owner had never objected. She organized everything, making sure to front and display especially the newer and more popular materials, but left little notes of discord everywhere. For example, the corner with a couch and several chairs, with small end tables ornamented by lamps with illustrations from children's tales, looked bare if too neat. A small but selective pile of books on each end table, made it look more welcoming, along with the pillows she plumped up for the couch.

The floor was scrupulously clean, the windows sparkling (thank goodness they had a service for that, Wendy thought, as it would drive her spare to keep the glass perfect on her own), the register perfectly balanced and ready for the day. The only thing left was to put up a few more signs for the event and arrange the table and chairs for the author's signing, which she did quickly and efficiently. This particular author had no special requests that she'd been notified of, but that could mean that either the publicist was taking care of that or that she would be surprised last minute. With an unwrinkled brow, Wendy glanced over a small black notebook that she kept behind the counter. In it was listed every service in town with a specific eye to the often eccentric needs of authors, and especially those services that delivered very quickly. It was always best to be prepared.

Wendy looked over the shop with pride. Everything in the store was exactly the way she wanted it. The only fly in the ointment was that there were going to be customers in and out all morning, disturbing her good work before the signing, but thankfully the event was in the afternoon rather than the evening. Taking a deep breath in and out, Wendy turned on the automatic tea kettle she kept hidden behind the counter and made herself a nice cup of tea. She took a delicate sip out of a delicate teacup, enjoying the flavor and the silence, as well as the organized space in front of her, before she went to turn the bookstore sign to "Open." And since it might very well be a quiet morning, she pulled out her notebook from a cupboard and continued a story she had been working on.