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| Jöntar; Dire candidate | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Aug 12 2010, 01:12 PM (320 Views) | |
| Callegan | Aug 12 2010, 01:12 PM Post #1 |
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Character Number: 2nd Name: Jöntar Age: 21 Gender: Male Sexuality: Straight Appearance: Jötnar is not anything near the average man. At 20 he already stands at 6’ 5”, towering over most men, and some beasts. He’s built like a oak door, wide at the shoulders, strong thick chest, and solid through and through. He is all rippling muscle. At 230 pounds, he more than enough to reckon with in a fight. He usually is very shy though, embarrassed about his size and not wanting to accidentally hurt someone. He has short blonde hair, and beautiful light grey eyes. He has a tattoo of a stump with a axe in it on his right shoulder. His cloths are tattered, never being able to find a size that fits. His shirts are usually ripped at the neckline to give him breathing room and are usually missing sleeves. He wears shorts that are often too small for him and are ripped slightly along the hems on the sides. Giving his muscles room to move. He carries a large broadsword across his back. It as gold and silver inlaid into the blade, if you were ever to see it out side of its sheath, and you weren’t already skewered by it. It weighs more then most men could swing, but it doesn’t seem to faze Jötnar. Jöntar has no really visible scars to speak of, or that he will speak of. He has managed to keep wild animals at bay. He enjoys watching them in their natural habitat. Often putting himself in danger just to see how life is for other creatures. He doesn’t feel pain, when he is angry anyway. He doesn’t like to get angry though, because someone aways gets hurt. Usually it isn’t him. He doesn’t have a last name. He has gone by many nicknames in the past; “ The Northern Giant”, “The Vidalaner Lumberjack”, and many others. Some that you wouldn’t say if you wished to keep your complexion. Personality: Jöntar is very friendly, but will never approach someone to start a conversation unless they are very good friends. He really is a shy, docile man. But when aggravated, teased, or seeing inhumane things being done he is quick to turn to anger. Often using his body instead of his sword, but still having more than enough power to kill someone. He isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but you won’t fool him into most things. Usually. He is fiercely loyal, taking the good side of things, but often needing to be convinced to fight. He loves children. It’s the biggest soft spot he has. He loves to pick them up and toss them into the air playfully. He also loves women, but not like most men do. He loves them from a distance, afraid to approach and never treating them as property, or a nights fun. He sees how strong they are, and that they are just a able as any man. He would love to have one to call his own, but thinks he will never get to. Rank: Dire Rider History: Jöntar was born in a small shack high up in the Northlands. His father was a lumberjack, and a mountain of a man. This is where he got his large form. His mother was smaller, but still tall compared to most women. His father was practically a neanderthal. He beat his mother constantly. It wasn’t till later in life that he found out he had abducted her from the village to the south. His father forced him to become a lumberjack. Making him carry the wood and swing an axe well over twice his size. 16 years this went on, him having to help his father day in and day out. It wasn’t all bad though, he learned about the wildlife and how to hunt. It wasn’t until he was 18 that things took a turn for the worst. His father came back from town, already he had spent all of the money from there cutting on ale. He broke into the cabin looking to his mother with lust in his eyes. She could see he had been at the bottle and tried to run. He caught her and threw her across the room. She hit the wall with tremendous force. She lay there on the ground not moving. Jöntar felt a surge of panic go through him. He ran to his mother side, his father pulled him away. His father grabbed his mothers dress and ripped it clean off of her body, a evil look in his eyes. Jöntar grabbed the table bringing it down on his fathers head. His father stopped, spun, and punched him full on the face. Lights went off and colors exploded in Jöntars head. He swayed as he got up, reaching for the sword hanging over the mantle. He dragged it towards his father. Lifting it high, he plunged the blade into his father’s exposed back. He let out a roar as he sunk the blade deeper. Pushing is father to the side he tended to his mother. She smiled weekly up at him, bringing her hand to his face “ You were always such a good boy.” She said. “Take yourself far away from here Jöntar. Go to the city in the jungle and make a new life for yourself, and never ever become like your father. with this she pulled out a little purse. It jingled as she shoved it into his hand. “ Go!” With this she laid her head back down on the floor. He moved to his father, he was dead. The blade severing many things in his spine. He violently pulled the blade free. Cleaning it on the table, he placed it in it’s sheathe and strung it over his back. He quickly put some food in a knapsack and strung that over his back as well. He put his father’s heavy wolf coat on and made for the door. He didn’t even look back as he left the door wide open, heading down the mountain to the village. Pets: He has a Harrier “large hawk” chick that he carries in his coat pocket. He stops now and then opening rotten logs and feeding the small creature. It is the closest friend he has. It wasn’t until several weeks past finding the little guy that he decided to name him. He calls him Lonan meaning little bird. when the bird is grown he will look like= ![]() Name: Aurores Gender: Male Breed: Moonrunner Personality: Quiet, Mysterious, Haunting Song: Darkfall, by God is an Astronaut Build: Very tall in the leg, with a narrow, narrow body, can almost be seen as a giant fox instead of a giant wolf. Eyes are large, as are his ears and chest, nose is long and pointed, this long trend carrying through to his legs, back, and tail which simply tapers off to a smooth end. Eyes: A bright, vibrant Phantasm green, very emotional Fur: Seemingly just a flat, basic black, uniform and without any sort of marking at all. That is until he walks into any form of light, then his fur seems to roll and wave with a bright aurora green that ripples down his body in slow curves and seemingly lazy, haunting shifts. His fur is in fact iridescent, and the green is the light catching the shiny oils coating his fur, and it moves as his fur ripples along with the muscles that slide just below his skin. Age: 1.5 in Human years?? 10.5 in dog one's? |
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| Balu | Aug 12 2010, 01:20 PM Post #2 |
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Perpetually sketching
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[align=center]Accepted[/align] |
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