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| Alastair Braeden :: Male :: Candidate Lessonmaster; Rider of Sonic Harmon | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Oct 7 2010, 07:28 PM (781 Views) | |
| SemperMemor | Oct 7 2010, 07:28 PM Post #1 |
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Majestic Space Duck
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[align=center]NPC Candidate Lessonmasters [/align]Character Number: Third Name: Alastair Braeden Age: Fifty Gender: Male Sexuality: Heterosexual Appearance: Alastair is six foot two and weighted down with raw muscle obtained through years of self-induced training and hardy genetics. He is not the tallest of the tallest, but he does his best to appear as intimidating as possible. His arms alone are thick and heavy with muscled packing; the rest of his body follows relatively the same in build. A wide chest and conditioned heart leave little room for improvement endurance-wise. His pale grey eyes gaze beneath a pair of unmanicured russet brown eyebrows. Likewise, Alastair’s hair is the same thick, untamed wilderness. He believes, that for all his strict practices, the look will create a more daunting atmosphere when he requires it. His thick, tanned skin stretches over meaty cheekbones to give him a curiously beefy gaunt façade. Scars, burns, and pockmarks dot his entire body like the remnants of a pox-like disease from years of heavy combat and aerial fights. Alastair dresses in a practical way with precise neatness. Fashion is not his forte, nor does he enjoy following trends, but will occasionally spruce up his outfit for a night of drinking and courting with close comrades. His typical attire usually consists of a plain, tight-fitting tunic and thick pants with hefty leather riding boots, gloves, and plain leather jacket. His crystal is fashioned to a thick chain that hangs around his neck that is kept always underneath his shirt for safety. He carries a heavy double-edged axe across his back during missions. At all times, a long, perpetually sharpened dagger is hidden in his right boot. He is far too knowledgeable of the realities of war to be stupid enough to not keep one on his person. Personality: Alastair is the combination of a long since hardened militant and loyal companion smashed together inside of a heavily muscled tank of a body. He is not afraid to tell people what they should hear, even if the factual information may be a sensitive or even embarrassing subject. Blunt when he needs to be, harsh when he is commanded, and loud when he does speak his mind. Only when the situation calls for it will he keep his mouth to himself. He has always followed the orders of his superiors, no matter what. Above all else, he is eternally loyal to his life mate, Harmon. One of his greatest challenges as a human being is controlling his sheer amount of stubbornness. He may subject himself to every whim that his uppers ask of him, but it is not without an inward struggle. He knows he must, and he knows he should submit, but even he is conflicted at times. In such periods, he will consult Harmon and weigh his options heavily on the mute advice he is given. Alastair frequently follows the skirts of the fairer sex, but very rarely ever sticks to one lady for long; even this is only under the influence of fermented fruits and grains. Duty often calls him away from a simpler life; he hardly regrets the decision he made to join the riders, though. His connection with Harmon runs extremely deep. Their connection often lacks the use of words, but is as clear as their aquamarine crystals more often than not. The occasional snarky shouts and blunt affection in public are only a playful ruse. Over the years together the bond has grown ever more strong. He would never in a million eons change the world for it. Rank: Retired Wing Riders and Candidate Lesson Masters History: Alastair once lived in the far northern region of Sekkai, claiming his birthplace in a small village just outside of Vien. The harsh 17 winters he lived through helped him establish the first of many layers of outward coldness that he projects to those that do not know him well. His family, consisting of a large household of woodsmen and their occasional wives, was not very close knit. Alastair strived for the orderly precision that his younger years simply did not offer. At the age of 18, he packed up his belongings and traveled south in search of the fabled Academy. He was picked up by a Sekkian Wing on border patrol several weeks into his trek and taken directly to the main stronghold of the military forces. Once enlisted as a candidate, Alastair immediately took up training as his first passion, the other three being eating, researching, and sleeping in that order. Months later led him to the breath of new lives spilled upon the hatching grounds. His crystal matched for one of the new babies that day, but in a highly unusual and startling manner. He had reveled in the sight of his bonded breed; a Sonic was a strong dragon, one worthy of true combat unlike the tiny Rosemaries. As soon as a dark blue Sonic cracked the shell and revealed it’s matching crystal in a wide yawn, it had scampered over to him and tried talking. No language came from the little one’s throat, nor did any follow from further attempts. Only whistles, screeches, and hums came from the hatchling’s specialized spines and horns. It took him hours of miming and mimicking just to learn his new dragon’s name. The major difference from his prediction and the actual reality of his new life were ridiculously different. He felt utterly duped and undermined for a time. However, the dragon was more kind-hearted in his own way than anyone else had ever been to him and understanding; not matter what he did to try to get around it, he simply could not shake the fact that there was nothing truly wrong with Harmon. Their relationship was rocky at first, and very hard to try to even communicate. The wyrmling trials, especially for one not used to being around dragons for a long time, were immensely difficult. At last, his hard-headedness proved to be useful for something. The two eventually grew closer to each other than Alastair had originally expected. Harmon began to make up his own language, to which Alastair picked up over time as words more natural to him than his native tongue. By the end of their youth lesions, their bond had fluttered weakly, ignited, and shined brightly. The years following graduation were hectic, jumbled, and isolated. The Sonic pair became spies for the cause, following and tracking trails of tainted and attacking smaller groups of weaker beings where it was advantageous. Gathering as much information as they could possibly glean, they were gone for years at times. Alastair and Harmon had no one to speak to but each other with the extremely infrequent dragon and human company. With the ever growing hostile take-over of the tainted army, spying became more and more of a narrow scrape with death than peeking at camps for even the best of their efforts. They recently retired from solitary stealth sweeps to the organized hierarchy of the Academy, where their life together started. The transition from isolation to structured war tactics would be a tough one, especially for Alastair, but they are determined to make it livable. The end of the War brought an era of relief and time of peace for the tired Sonic pair. They now reside permanently at the Academy, occasionally taking on tasks such as rounding up and training potential candidates. Pet(s): [align=center]The Dragon[/align] Name: Harmon Age: Thirty Gender: Male Element: Sonic Appearance: [align=center] ![]() ~ by HelmiP of deviantArt ~ ~ By Balu ~ ~ By Me ~ By Kia ~ [/align] Although merely looking at him will not immediately express this fact, but perhaps the most distinguishing characteristic of Harmon is his complete lack of spoken language. He was born mute, due to a genetic birth defect, affecting the development of his vocal chords, and cannot talk as a result. This is not to say that he has not learned speech or that he is illiterate; Harmon can read and write perfectly well, if not a little awkwardly with the use of his five-taloned hands. Harmon’s body is relatively shorter in height than the average Sonic (at 10 feet at the withers). The lack in height, however, is made up for in a more proportional, long tail. His chest barrel is deep and wide to house a pair of massive lungs and huge heart. The hind legs of Harmon are longer than his front; the effect being that his shorter, wider front end is at the same height as his hips. He appears a little stout, but hardly cares that he cannot run as gracefully as others. Harmon’s head his shaped in the manner of a wide arrow; his muzzle broad enough to house large nostrils and a large maw for elemental attacks. His large, round, warm honey eyes are set beneath fine, ridged brows. A pair of smooth alabaster horns sprout from the base of his thick skull, curve outward much like a ram’s horns, and arc underneath his bottom jaw toward each other. The last third of these horns open up on the top to expose the inner hollowness typical of a Sonic. A dorsal row of slightly sloped hollow spines start between his eyes and flow down over his vertebrae to the tip of his tail. They create a ghoulish whistling sound as he flies. His throat and belly ventral scales are pleated in the middle and slightly elongated, forming a spiny overlap. These serve no purpose other than making an attack to his stomach and esophageal areas more difficult to harm. His main body scales are small, smooth, and interlocking. Harmon’s five wing fingers stretch his thick flight membranes to a very broad extent, making him much more suited for diving and maneuverability than long, sustained flights. The edges of this skin have small holes and tears from close combat. Harmon’s base color is a rich, deep, lustrous blue. His points (feet, tail, and head) are only slightly darker in hue. The row of spines on his back is the same marble alabaster color as his horns. A swirling stripe of silver runs along the same path, stretching out over the upper half of his body in thin, irregular streaks and splashes of striking contrast. The tips of his elongated belly scales are blotches with bright blue. Harmon’s wings are dark blue along the arm and hand; a brilliant, iridescent blue darkens in gradient closer to the wing arm from the extreme edges of his wing membrane. The ventral side of his wings mirrors the dorsal side. His aquamarine star-shaped crystal is located on the back of his tongue, toward the throat. It can only be seen if his mouth is open to blow out eardrums or, when he feels like it, to yawn. Personality: Harmon has little difficulty dealing with his language barrier anymore. He tries to make do with what was given to him. He ‘speaks’ without using his mouth. A series of calculated hums, whistles, shrieks, and booms emanate from his spines and horns at will. Combined with carefully injected emotions, he can create symphonies of mere sound to convey just a simple desire or a troubling question. He feels that it is a much more beautiful way of communication than the guttural grunts and clicks of spoken words, believing them to be the disadvantaged ones. Although, he makes an exception for Alastair’s ‘handicap.’ He tends to be far more observant than his rider, soaking in the world around him and listening to what it says as it says it. Often times, it is an incredibly useful attribute for the life of a spy. Now that they have retired, his placid staring irks those who do not know what is doing. Harmon simply ignores these humans and dragons alike. Harmon is gentle to the extreme for the majority of the time. He does not enjoy fighting, even though he knows he must do so to defend his home and his friends. He feels bad for stepping on a flower; killing a mouse is a nightmare and a half. He would be depressed for hours if he knew he had done such a thing. Alastair frequently chastises him for such behavior, but he cannot help it. He is who he is. With this overwhelming kindness and observational habits, he makes a great listener and empathic socialist of sorts. When those who have issues need to vent, they come to him for advice. Sometimes he cannot convey what he wishes to tell them without the proper translation by Alastair, but the full meaning usually does not matter. He listens and that, usually, is more than enough for most. [align=center] ~ --- ~ Parents Sonic Organa x Sonic Allegro Children By Forest Hadassah Female Sonic Tonare Male Sonic Buccinal Grandchildren Fire Anala x Sonic Buccinal Female Fire Fuega Sonic Tonare x Disruption Garboil Female Disruption Nephthys Razor Guillotine x Sonic Buccinal Female Sonic Mezcal Great Grandchildren Disruption Nephthys x Celestial Zodiac Chaos Sutekh[/align] |
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| Balu | Oct 7 2010, 08:40 PM Post #2 |
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Perpetually sketching
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[align=center]Accepted[/align] |
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5:25 PM Jul 10