Name: My name... Um... I think... Yeah, Steve Royal's my name. I'm sure enough, anyway
Appearance: Oh, nuthin special really. Just the classic beige and off-white shirt n' coat combo, with khakis and dress shoes to round it out. Wait!, phew, thought I lost my glasses!
Random backstory stuff: Well, I had a wife and kids... I forgot what happen, if we divorced or... Worse. I mostly just write novels nowadays, about one a month, I think... They keep calling me a sellout... That's not very nice, could you not... GO FUCK YOURSELF! You try being a Fucking Failure! See how THAT Feels, you Bitch!
Regrets: I have the honor of writing the book panned by critics as "The Serial Murderer's Manifesto". "The Crying Boy" has also Single-handedly caused an astounding 80% of people to read it to commit suicide, according to the media. Now if that isn't the definition of paving your way to hell with good intentions, I don't know what is.
Path: To right a book with a good message, that actually sells for once.
Drunken behavior: I'm... Not sure how to explain it. I feel like myself, mostly, but I start thinking really awful thoughts, like seriously twisted. I also feel... Colder, like I don't give a care about anyone, except for trying to find a way to just break you with words, and just make you feel horrible.
Hangover Talent: Writing. I'm decent enough, I guess. But once I get a drink or two, I can write words that fuckin kill, if I wanted to.
Impulse Talent: The King Pen. A monster with sharp ink pens for fingers and liquid tentacles sprouting from his back, with pitch black eyes and a sadistic personality. Has skin like paper and blood like ink, and a suit of black and white. No matter how much you cut him, he just pulls himself back together, and walks forward ominously, with a crooked grin.