1/13/18

I PROMISE I'LL DO SOMETHING NOT OC-RELATED NEXT CHAPTER

*clears throat* *mumbles* He's actually my favorite to draw out of all of my many characters so do you blame me for this particular art dump in the first place—

Anyway! Cecil Brookes. I love him, and he sure as hell does, too. The amount of self-care he gives himself is...insane.

He's actually not in any of the stories I've mentioned previously. My Social Studies teacher is making us write a creative prompt time travel series. Cecil just so happens to be part of that story.

He's about thirty years old (older than everyone else on the team, at least), acts super elitist and posh, and he used to be the top agent of Olympia, the organization that protects the Past from the evil Kronos corporation.

Here's the basics:

—He specializes in guns and other far-ranged weapons, such as bows and crossbows. I have never drawn a gun before this so cut me some slack please— In fact, he's become a bit rusty when it comes to melee weapons now, so that's not particularly good.

—Wears scarves and gloves literally 24/7. The colors vary depending on his mood, the occasion, and if it matches the rest of his outfit, of course. But he gets called out for it a lot, even though some of the...others (*cough* *cough* looking at you, Commissioner *cough*) wear some pretty questionable things compared to him.

—Cecil...comes off as a bit of an a-hole to everyone he meets for the first time. Arrogant, sarcastic, and snarky as hell, he does not work well with others. Before being forced back into Jupiter (the elite team) with my other characters, he worked solo missions.

—He's engaged. Has been for a while. That's one of the many reasons for his frustration, particularly at Olympia. They're not giving him any time to go back home and see everyone he loves so much.

—Massive fan of mocha frappés. During tough nights his fiancé chides him for never converting to tea ("It'll still keep you awake, y'know." "The caffeine's already converted me, hon." "You're ridiculous." "Please—just leave me be with my empty Starbucks cups") but still makes them homemade for him anyway.

—the scar on his face is explained in the story, but he's just a tad insecure about it (and no, not because it blemishes his perfect face)

—Oh, and he secretly loves satire. Loves it. He hums random Book of Mormon songs when he thinks no one's around. Keyword: thinks ("Oh my God, Brookes, were you actually singing Hasa Diga Eebowai a few minutes ago." "*chokes mid-drink* SH*T. NO. F*CK. GET OUT, VARGAS.")

—and...he swears a lot, if you haven't noticed