Age: David Marciano (Ray's actor) is apparently 39 at the end of due South, so 39 it is.
Height: 6'
Medical Info: ... probably should have better stamina as a cop. Otherwise, nothing special. [edit] O RITE scars from bullet wounds in the shoulder, and a previously broken wrist.
Eyes: Hazel/brown.
Hair: Receeding -- I mean, charming. Dark brown, and charming. It's got a je ne sais quoi, okay? :(
Physical traits: Lanky, big nose. ... Italian.
What's Okay To Mention Around Him/Her: ... there's probably nothing Ray won't complain about, so feel free to throw in homosexual bunnies with sawblades just to see how many interesting shades of purple his face turns.
Abilities: ... illegal entrapment. No. Really. Decent enough with a gun to be a detective, but I'm really at a loss here. ... also hates technology and can't type for beans.
Notes for the Psychics: ... significant brain activity is really not on the schedule. Most of his off-case thinking involves how to get out of doing paperwork, 1000 and one ways to annoy/insult his coworkers/best friend/enemies or how to score with that sexy babe over yonder.
Can I shapeshift/bodyswap/spit at/step on/etc?: Traumatise at will, although I liked to be poked so I can react accordingly. ... as a fair warning, if you spit on him, he'll probably punch you in the face. But I'm sure we can work something out!
Maim/Murder/Death: Iiii'd rather not for this one. Not too sure how he'd take to any of that, because he's a wuss. And also because I don't think I could pull out an appropriate reaction from a character that (aside from ghost dads and Fraser smelling rat breath) comes from a reality show.
Cooking: ....... who the hell put that here. No. And no. Not unless you're doing the cooking and you're wearing shorty pajamas.

DID I MISS ANYTHING? If so, the answers are yes, no, that's sick, no, no, no, no, I didn't do it.

Also he tried to scam an insurance agency once by telling them he was dead. Hello Meryl. :D

Character: Raymond "Ray" Vecchio
Series: due South
Character Age: Late forties.
Job: ... traffic guard.
Canon: Ray Vecchio is Benton Fraser's (aka "Benny" or "Frasier") first partner, a cynical, obnoxious Italian family guy, who just so happens to be a cop. As a detective serving in Chicago's 27th Precinct, RayV kicks ass and takes names, and isn't adverse to sometimes using, ahem, slightly off the report means to do so. However, he's a sap and possesses his own sort of dorky charm, and is a bit obsessed with his looks and how he runs with the ladies. ...despite his rather apparent receding hairline and affinity for bad Armani, which fortunately doesn't seem to discourage the important ones.

Fiercely loyal to his friends, family and even his coworkers with whom he is constantly at odds, RayV will do anything to ensure their safety, including risk his life -- complaining before, during and after. While fond of demonstrating Olympic-level abilities in whining, and trying to pretend that he doesn't enjoy being dragged into wild hijinks by Canadians in red (and getting his Armani covered in fur by a certain Canadian's wolf), RayV is all in all, a good cop and a decent man.

Oh yeah, I can totally see what draws somebody to this place. The bleak, depressing scenery, the rustic charm -- almost pastoral, if you count the mooing undead, the convenience of being able to puke in the lake and not having to worry about toxic waste laws. I mean, if I had a list of the world's greatest vacation spots, this would be numero uno. Who needs a good night's sleep, dry socks, and a moment without thinking that you've lost your mind? Who needs hygiene?

But the security is top notch, I'll give you that. Can you believe that it took me a hundred to convince the guy to let me in? And a weapon search. Sheesh, do I look like a bad guy to you? Only in the right circumstances!

Let's cut to the chase. Ray Vecchio, a member of Chicago's finest, strictly here as your official el guardo del traffico. Fourteen years on the force and the Bookman case and I'm put on traffic duty in Louisiana. What's a man got to do to get some respect around here? You want a book long rap sheet on how to cross the street? I'm your man. You want an experienced eye on how to dress to impress? I'm your man. Ladies? I'm your man.

Kids? Absolutely not your man, unless your single mom needs some help crossing the street. Lost and found? No. I'm a cop, not a nice guy. I also do not a) walk wolves, b) feed wolves, or c) associate with wolves. Capiché?

Now, if you'd excuse me. I've got a big bad Mountie to scold.

Frasier, at the sake of repeating myself, if you're going to endanger your life, my life, our lives, at least give me some warning. A week would be nice, but I understand the necessity of impulse. Impulse is a manly thing. On that note, this is great, Benny. You've really outdone yourself. I know dying in the Canadian wilderness is one of your favorite hobbies, right after licking mud off Chicago's streets, but rounding up lepers and teaching them the famed Musical Ride of the Royal Canadian Mounted Samaritans? Wasn't a boy scout badge the last time I checked.

. . . neither was domesticating reanimated dinosaurs oh God were wolves not enough?! -- He's getting intimate with me! Did you see that? He was getting intimate with me! His putrid digestive juices are bonding with my Armani! His --

Good news. I think I found my stop sign. It's on my jacket.

[here!]