Creepy Ronin
Outside the Box
IC Information
Full Name: Gunther Ramos
Deed Name: Seeks the Other Path
Gender: Male
Age: Unknown
Breed: Lupus
Tribe: Ronin
Auspice: Theurge
Rank: Cliath (1)
Sept Position: None
Pack: None
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 300lbs
Hair: Black
Eyes: Unknown
Nature: Architect
Demeanor: Loner
OOC Information
Status: Inactive
Player: Hazmat

"What's with the string?"

"Story, old story, a knot. Cannot unmake. A man comes. He ignores rules for unmaking a knot. Cuts it. Then, no knot. Also no string. (...) It is bad. Cannot unmake knot. Cannot. Can cut knot, but then no string. Broken string. Bad."

"(...) So why bother with it then? Just get some new string."

"No new string. (...) Follow rules, cannot fix. Is bad, will always be bad. Break rules, remove bad but also break thing. No. Need different, eh... different... different... Different solution."

(Mackenzie and Ramos)


In human society, Gunther Ramos is just another homeless mumbling weirdo, maybe one of those people who ought to be in a mental hospital but isn't for economic reasons. He seems mostly harmless, though.

In Garou circles, he's pretty much an unknown, and only a few even know he exists. Though he's not Wyrm tainted, his actual motivations and goals are very much a mystery.

He has not been seen in St. Claire recently, neither him nor his vulture spirit friend. Presumably both have moved on. Either that, or they're very good at hiding.

Hazmat's GarouMUSH logs tagged "ramos".

RP HooksEdit

  • He's usually found in the run-down lower-economic sections of St. Claire and often visits Andy's Donuts especially.
  • He can also be found roaming the local Umbra, as Theurges (and other Garou with a lot of Gnosis) tend to do.
  • He has a turkey vulture as a spirit ally.

Homid AppearanceEdit

This is a stocky young man with a broad, plain face and long black hair but no beard to speak of. He's a little under six feet tall and has pale, soft-looking skin, a smashed-flat nose, a wide mouth, small ears, and very little chin. His body is swathed in a shin-length black coat that's a couple of sizes too big for him, a coat that's buttoned all the way up the front. The frayed cuffs of his brown pants puddle messily around cheap canvas shoes that are no longer white. Round black welder's goggles cover his eyes. His age is hard to determine, but he's probably not past his early twenties.

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