Post by daesiggil on Mar 22, 2009 13:20:05 GMT -5
Name: Aearion (Eye-ARE-ee-on) (His 'adopted' name)
Age: 27
Race: Human
Appearance: He is a big guy about 5'9", and he is strong. He seems to brute to work with fine things. But he has surprisingly tender hands with fingers that can handle the finest things like needles, though they are rough from earlier work when he was a child. His general appearance may suggest he's healthy, but he isn't. He's slightly underweight, and seems to depend on the weather as it's sometimes okay all of a sudden.
His hair is short and a dark auburn brown-red. His eyes a dark green-brown color with specks of lighter brown through with a normal shape that everyone has, from far they may appear a strange color, like an amber-ish color and carry a strict look from time to time. His face is friendly and open. As a shadow side though, he may suddenly become strict looking, the time for joking and making fun is done.
His nose is broad, his lips are quite small compared to it. His eyebrows are like dark caterpillars placed over his eyes, shadowing them but do not hide the glistering.
His voice is a deep, warm baritone that is pleasant to listen too.
His shoulders are broad along with his chest with muscles, his waist is, compared to that, narrow. His legs suggest that he runs a lot, his arms that he carries a heavy weight from time to time, unthanks the straining muscles he seems to carry a swimmer's body and has a strange elegance to him, also, unlike his build insists he can move around soundless although he tends to make his footsteps loud enough that he doesn't startle anyone.
Personality: He is a nice and very social guy and more than once someone sought him out for a good, long talk. He's thoughtful and is quick to voice said thoughts to the outside world and when he was "somebody" he was also found often to chat about his wife or home, carrying a huge smile. The 'darker' thoughts are to himself, like small problems he can deal with himself, but those times aren't often that he hides his thoughts.
He doesn't mind that they play pranks, tell jokes about him, even when he's close by. He's found often laughing alongside with them.
He isn't quick to anger, but once you got him angry enough you can better run, those arms could easily break limbs like they where a twig.
Sometimes if everything around him is too much he will walk outside, staying in a silence no one can break. He doesn't mind that they stand next to him and talk, but they just don't need to expect an answer..
Although once he's in the fighting mode the gentle, caring person is gone and his word is command then and he won't take crap from anyone. One could find him yelling commands around to the people underneath him and they comply, not wanting to anger the 'gentle giant' because his anger can be a terrible thing.
He doesn't stand for fights and never will start one and doesn't step in one. But he will take the two fighting persons apart and force them to either apology or ignore each other for the rest if it goes too far for him.
History: He was born like most of the people and was raised. He had a lot of friends and it was rare to see them apart. He seemed like most children, but this was not to be true. He found a wounded bird once and in place of killing it, he took it with him to his home and tried to save its live, although he already knew it was futile. This didn't stop him from trying, so the shock of it not working wasn't as hard as it should have been. His parents where surprised that he still seemed shaken and upset but they cast it from their minds.
When years passed he took more and more wounded animals to his home, some get back healthy, but more often than not they still died. His parents finally noticed his tendency for healing and one way or another arranged that he could go from home as a healer novice. He took the chance with both hands and went off, there he learned he could heal a lot more if he learned hard and worked hard. Determined he did so, many complimented him, but it was never enough for him. He wanted to learn, he wanted to be the best, but unlike other students he knew when it was enough.
He was delighted when he on his twenty-four was promoted to a better position, he felt like it couldn't turn happier. He had a wife who loved him, he could care for himself and her.
He didn't slack off though in his work as he knew that it would start just now and continued to give his best, even when he felt like giving up one of his friends would talk to him and gave him the courage to continue.
He doesn't expect to be a full healer himself, not even after eleven to twelve years.
But then disaster seemed to struck him, his wife wasn't happy anymore with him, the same woman he adored with all his heart, body and soul.
He understood this though and let her leave with great pain in his own heart, tears nearly streaming from his eyes. He didn't hate her, he just loved her all the more, to the day of today they're still friends and no awkwardness can be seen between those two if they see each other, although the weight of his lies press on his shoulders.
Then, on one day he was taken by forces of 'evil', no memories of his old live remain, only flashes he tries to catch in vain. He was duped another name, a small amount of people -mostly the leaders- know that Aearion isn't his real name and they don't tell anyone.
Roleplaying example: Aearion made his comfortable, but slow path fort. His eyes where narrowed slightly in thought, not even disturbed by the small drops of water landing on his skin. He allows a small grim smile to touch his lips as he hears a small sound far off, slowly he felt the skin on his hands and nose warm, signaling him that he was walking into the sun. He pondered for a moment why he didn't pull on some better clothes for the outside, but then shrugged it off, like he did with so many things before that.
He slowly pulled back out of his thoughts, as if unwillingly to leave the save depths of his mind, looking at his hands. He still saw the blood staining them, the blood from his patients, persons that trusted him, just like his family did, a scowl twists his features in a cold mask now and balls his fists and closes his eyes tightly, pausing in his step "Why do you still hunt me?" He whispers softly, obviously to the phantoms in his own mind, a rough hand raising to press itself against his sleep, rubbing small circles.
He didn't expect an answer, no one ever did. They seemed to avoid him for one reason or another, who wouldn't? His face seemed to have turned gaunter than before as if he had fallen ill and if someone was too close, they would get the same. Or did they just see the blood on his hands, although he tried to wash it off countless of times before. He exhales and raises the hand pressed to his sleep to push the small locks of hair away and sighs again "Ain't the guild pressing on my shoulders enough?" He asks the silence around him, yet again, no one answered.
Age: 27
Race: Human
Appearance: He is a big guy about 5'9", and he is strong. He seems to brute to work with fine things. But he has surprisingly tender hands with fingers that can handle the finest things like needles, though they are rough from earlier work when he was a child. His general appearance may suggest he's healthy, but he isn't. He's slightly underweight, and seems to depend on the weather as it's sometimes okay all of a sudden.
His hair is short and a dark auburn brown-red. His eyes a dark green-brown color with specks of lighter brown through with a normal shape that everyone has, from far they may appear a strange color, like an amber-ish color and carry a strict look from time to time. His face is friendly and open. As a shadow side though, he may suddenly become strict looking, the time for joking and making fun is done.
His nose is broad, his lips are quite small compared to it. His eyebrows are like dark caterpillars placed over his eyes, shadowing them but do not hide the glistering.
His voice is a deep, warm baritone that is pleasant to listen too.
His shoulders are broad along with his chest with muscles, his waist is, compared to that, narrow. His legs suggest that he runs a lot, his arms that he carries a heavy weight from time to time, unthanks the straining muscles he seems to carry a swimmer's body and has a strange elegance to him, also, unlike his build insists he can move around soundless although he tends to make his footsteps loud enough that he doesn't startle anyone.
Personality: He is a nice and very social guy and more than once someone sought him out for a good, long talk. He's thoughtful and is quick to voice said thoughts to the outside world and when he was "somebody" he was also found often to chat about his wife or home, carrying a huge smile. The 'darker' thoughts are to himself, like small problems he can deal with himself, but those times aren't often that he hides his thoughts.
He doesn't mind that they play pranks, tell jokes about him, even when he's close by. He's found often laughing alongside with them.
He isn't quick to anger, but once you got him angry enough you can better run, those arms could easily break limbs like they where a twig.
Sometimes if everything around him is too much he will walk outside, staying in a silence no one can break. He doesn't mind that they stand next to him and talk, but they just don't need to expect an answer..
Although once he's in the fighting mode the gentle, caring person is gone and his word is command then and he won't take crap from anyone. One could find him yelling commands around to the people underneath him and they comply, not wanting to anger the 'gentle giant' because his anger can be a terrible thing.
He doesn't stand for fights and never will start one and doesn't step in one. But he will take the two fighting persons apart and force them to either apology or ignore each other for the rest if it goes too far for him.
History: He was born like most of the people and was raised. He had a lot of friends and it was rare to see them apart. He seemed like most children, but this was not to be true. He found a wounded bird once and in place of killing it, he took it with him to his home and tried to save its live, although he already knew it was futile. This didn't stop him from trying, so the shock of it not working wasn't as hard as it should have been. His parents where surprised that he still seemed shaken and upset but they cast it from their minds.
When years passed he took more and more wounded animals to his home, some get back healthy, but more often than not they still died. His parents finally noticed his tendency for healing and one way or another arranged that he could go from home as a healer novice. He took the chance with both hands and went off, there he learned he could heal a lot more if he learned hard and worked hard. Determined he did so, many complimented him, but it was never enough for him. He wanted to learn, he wanted to be the best, but unlike other students he knew when it was enough.
He was delighted when he on his twenty-four was promoted to a better position, he felt like it couldn't turn happier. He had a wife who loved him, he could care for himself and her.
He didn't slack off though in his work as he knew that it would start just now and continued to give his best, even when he felt like giving up one of his friends would talk to him and gave him the courage to continue.
He doesn't expect to be a full healer himself, not even after eleven to twelve years.
But then disaster seemed to struck him, his wife wasn't happy anymore with him, the same woman he adored with all his heart, body and soul.
He understood this though and let her leave with great pain in his own heart, tears nearly streaming from his eyes. He didn't hate her, he just loved her all the more, to the day of today they're still friends and no awkwardness can be seen between those two if they see each other, although the weight of his lies press on his shoulders.
Then, on one day he was taken by forces of 'evil', no memories of his old live remain, only flashes he tries to catch in vain. He was duped another name, a small amount of people -mostly the leaders- know that Aearion isn't his real name and they don't tell anyone.
Roleplaying example: Aearion made his comfortable, but slow path fort. His eyes where narrowed slightly in thought, not even disturbed by the small drops of water landing on his skin. He allows a small grim smile to touch his lips as he hears a small sound far off, slowly he felt the skin on his hands and nose warm, signaling him that he was walking into the sun. He pondered for a moment why he didn't pull on some better clothes for the outside, but then shrugged it off, like he did with so many things before that.
He slowly pulled back out of his thoughts, as if unwillingly to leave the save depths of his mind, looking at his hands. He still saw the blood staining them, the blood from his patients, persons that trusted him, just like his family did, a scowl twists his features in a cold mask now and balls his fists and closes his eyes tightly, pausing in his step "Why do you still hunt me?" He whispers softly, obviously to the phantoms in his own mind, a rough hand raising to press itself against his sleep, rubbing small circles.
He didn't expect an answer, no one ever did. They seemed to avoid him for one reason or another, who wouldn't? His face seemed to have turned gaunter than before as if he had fallen ill and if someone was too close, they would get the same. Or did they just see the blood on his hands, although he tried to wash it off countless of times before. He exhales and raises the hand pressed to his sleep to push the small locks of hair away and sighs again "Ain't the guild pressing on my shoulders enough?" He asks the silence around him, yet again, no one answered.
