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| Irixu - Male - Sekkian Candidate | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Dec 21 2010, 09:58 PM (447 Views) | |
| ManekiNeko | Dec 21 2010, 09:58 PM Post #1 |
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Character Number- 1st Name- Irixu Amerant Age- 19 Gender- Male Sexuality- Bisexual Appearance- For most of his life, Irixu has kept his hair short. If he heats it in any way to make it dry faster, it separates in tiny spikes, and it’s harder to get poked in the eye by a short spike than a long one. It also takes a lot less time for short hair to dry naturally. But he’s decided to play with it again, and is allowing the hair on the back of his head to grow out to braiding length. There’s more than one way to control it, after all. His hair itself is a dusty-looking brown. His nose is thin ands long, with a slightly broader tip. His eyes are hazel, a color that is normally described as bright and lively, but his can be described as anything but. His eyes do not lack intelligence, but they match very few of his expressions. They have the same blank, unseeing look whether he’s screaming or laughing. The fault lies not with Irixu’s vision, but with his emotions. More on that later. Irixu has a very lean frame. He’s not malnourished, but he’s never allowed himself the leisure or rich food that would add some plumpness to his lanky frame. His muscles are wiry and they do contain a fair amount of strength, but he has gained that strength mostly through hard labor, meaning he doesn’t have the muscle memory to punch or kick effectively as someone who has trained like a soldier. He much prefers mental battles to physical ones, but his habit of messing with people leads him into many fights. While he’s quick and agile, and therefore hard to get ahold of, he’s not a good fist fighter. He’s a dangerous monster if he has anything pointy to use as a weapon, but he’s built to be a scrapper, not a brawler. He doesn’t even have the advantage of height on most people. He stands at a meager five foot, five inches tall. In addition to that, his olive skin displays purple bruises very nicely, so it would be hard to hide a fight from his superiors. Irixu would hate to get into trouble over something he lost, so he doesn’t start fights. Intentionally. Mostly. He does, however, know how to use his body to win mental battles. Irixu smiles. Often. And he smiles in an extraordinarily creepy way. His smile is rarely genuine, but it is very wide, crinkling the corners of his eyes and stretching his cheeks in a way that looks painful. This smile is often accompanied by a pointed stare. Those who are the subject of Irixu’s.... attentions are often disturbed by them. When it comes to clothing, Irixu just puts on whatever is lying around. And by that he means whatever is on the floor, where he threw it last night. His appearance is only semi-predictable. He always wears layers of clothing, his armor, he doesn’t wear bright colors, and his clothes are always rumpled, even if they’re brand new. He tends to favor browns, greens, and dark blues, and avoids the colors of fire like the plague. He has one pair of boots, made from thin brown leather that allows him a greater range of movement than thicker boots would. His armor is almost comically mismatched, made up of a dented gray breastplate, a pair sturdy leather bracers, and shin guards that only stay on because Irixu wraps white bandages around the shin guards and his legs every time he wears them. He’s not terribly fond of jewelry, though he has been known to draw smiley faces on his breastplate when he’s in a particularly odd mood. He also carries a great deal of pointy objects around on his person. He can’t afford anything as large as a sword, but he has several good-sized daggers, and one evil looking monstrosity that never leaves his side. It’s made of good steel and has a copper handle wrapped in white leather. That dagger is his baby. Personality- Irixu, despite his habit of smiling, is not generally a happy person. He harbors intense emotions, yes, but they tend to fall more into the categories of anger and fear. Those stay beneath the surface and rarely match whatever expression he’s wearing. It’s a survival instinct. He wouldn’t want a potential enemy to be able be able to tell what he’s thinking. In his mind, pretty much anyone is a potential enemy. His only choices, in his mind, are to win them over to his side and make them his underlings, scare them off, or fight them. His methods of winning people over tend to be more persistent than actually nice. If he wants to win someone over, he will follow them. When he follows them, he’ll gather information and try to devise the best plan of attack. Actually... that’s his method for fighting and scaring people off, too. He just modifies it. If he wants someone as an ally, he’ll make his intentions quite clear and be extraordinarily persistent with them. If he wants to scare someone, he’ll make no effort to hide the fact that he’s following them, and he’ll smile and stare at them pointedly. If he wants to fight someone, he’ll be as stealthy as possible and wait for the right moment to strike. He can be charming. If he makes an effort, he can be very persuasive. However, in his eyes, very few people are worth that kind of work. He’d rather bludgeon them into submission. It’s a rare Sekkian indeed who has not been harmed in some way by the Tainted. Irixu has been hurt in a very personal way. When he was eight, his village was burned to the ground by a group of Tainted riders. He was one of the few who made it out. His parents were not. He didn’t see anyone die, but he did see the Bulkhead spray liquid fire over his home. He hasn’t been able to handle any fire greater than that on a candle ever since. The destruction of his home also gave him a purpose: to get a dragon and kill every single Tainted he ever saw. Only a dragon could fight a dragon. This purpose gave him the drive to keep living, and the intensity to get close to his goal. It also had the unfortunate side effect of preventing him from behaving in a “normal” manner ever again. Everything he does is shadowed by his hatred of the Taint and those who carry it. His ability to be charming doesn’t make him any less intense. He tries to turn all of the people he likes into soldiers for his cause, to say nothing of what he does to people he like likes. His methods of handling a crush are... awkward, to say the least. See, follow them around and bother them. Rank- Candidate History- Irixu was an only child, born to a couple living in a small village in the Midlands. His father was a soldier, a man with a horse and a sword. His mother was a healer. He was tenacious, active, and clever, much to his parent’s dismay. He climbed anything he could, and tried to climb many things that he couldn’t. He always managed to use his cuteness to get out of trouble. He wasn’t a bad kid, per se, just very curious. Other than his penchant for mischief, there was nothing remarkable about Irixu’s life until he was eight. He doesn’t know why the Tainted attacked. His village wasn’t that important for the wellbeing of Sekkai. It was just important to those who lived there. As soon as the villagers figured out that the dragons on the horizon were Tainted, they started preparing to fight, but they didn’t stand a chance. They had no dires, and no dragons. Only swords and arrows, and what are those to abominations? Irixu was sent out of the village with the other children. But his father was a soldier, and his mother was stubborn. They stayed. Irixu knows they died, because there was no way that they could have survived the Bulkhead’s attack. The entire village burned. Irixu joined the ever-growing crowd of refugees, finding a caravan of similarly displaced people and living with them. He was never formally adopted by anyone, but there were several families that took care of him as they made their way to the capitol of Sekkai. One of them was an old swordmaster, who taught Irixu the basics and gave the boy his first dagger, only a few inches shy of being a true sword. If it had been a real sword, the boy probably wouldn’t have been able to carry it. How to be deadly with a pointy object wasn’t the only thing he learned while travelling with the refugees. He and a few others turned pickpocket, stealing from those who dared to hoard supplies from the group. He developed a very odd sense of morality that way, in which he was the judge, jury, and executioner. If he thought something was wrong, he had the right to fix it in any way possible. He also learned how to be stealthy, and honed his climbing skills when they travelled through forests. The caravan didn’t move all that fast. He was nine when they reached a village in Nyushi. At first, he only saw another place to stop for supplies, one he would be leaving soon. Then he looked a little closer. There were so many refugees, so many people hurt by the Taint. His goal went to war with the protective streak he had developed on the road. Finally, he realized he was too young to volunteer for a dragon yet, so there was no reason for him not to stay and help out. It was in the middle of a forest, so it would be hard for any Tainted dragon to get at it. They wouldn’t fit through the canopy He set to work, taking any job that would pay. He fell in with a group of street urchins, orphaned refugees like him. He taught them what he knew, and they taught him what they knew. Together, they fought crime... well, committed crimes. It never went beyond thievery, and they didn’t steal from poor people. Unless the poor people were jerks. Between hiring himself out to help people build new lives and “redistributing” the wealth, he did a lot. So much, in fact, that he almost abandoned his dream of becoming a dragonrider. Why would a dragon want gutter trash like him? Maybe no one insulted him to his face (his dagger was much too conspicuous for that), but he heard what people said. He was only good for grunt work and acting out, they said. He knew he was better than that, but they weren’t far off. Why mess with a good thing? He was the most awesome trash the village had ever seen, he’d wager. His thirteenth birthday passed. Then his fourteenth. Then his fifteenth, and Irixu was still in the village. He had moved in with a nice couple when he was fourteen, who was dead set on cleaning him up and making him “respectable”. They didn’t have any sons of their own, only daughters. They even gave him another dagger and a nice breastplate for his fifteenth birthday. He was not the respectable sort, though, and still stayed with his band of gutter trash and street urchins. There were enough of them now that they were considered a serious problem, and the local government finally decided to throw them out. While Irixu didn’t technically have to leave, as he had an actual house to go to at night, he refused to abandon his friends. They took to the woods, moving away from the town lest some of the inhabitants get nasty. They roamed from village to village, getting food by performing odd jobs, stealing, or begging. Irixu collected armor that way. The dream of dragons seemed so far away. The pain of loosing his parents was still there, a poison that colored his every word and action. But the more he stole, the more he doubted he was good enough. He liked stealing, being his own moral advisor. He liked living like a wild child, with no one to tell him what to do. It was inevitable, though, that his group wind up in Lihn. It seemed everyone wound up in the capitol eventually. There were more people milling around in the marketplace than he had ever seen in one place before. His dream of becoming a dragonrider was rekindled when he saw one of the great creatures soaring over the Academy. He was eighteen. He hadn’t aged out yet, far from it. But could he really try for a dragon, being who he was? He hadn’t learned professional weapon use since his time with the swordmaster. He hadn’t had a formal education in... he wasn’t sure, actually. It couldn’t have been less than nine years. His clothes were filthy, his hair was ragged because he had cut it himself, and he had at least a dozen scars from various encounters with wild animals and bandits. No dragon would take him, and then where would he be? He took on several jobs, from working with horses to bricklaying. He earned enough money to make himself look a little less insane. And every day, in the faces of everyone around him, he was reminded of his goal. Kill all the Tainted. Every last one. Make those murderers pay for what they had done to these people. If he had to become a murderer himself to achieve that goal, so be it. He got strong again. He hit nineteen. He was ready. Pet(s)- Female draux eya Queen Bee Small Picture The Dragon Name- Amunet Age- Just hatched Gender- Female Element- Celestial ![]() Appearance- Amunet really only has two colors on her body: gray and gold. But they make a striking combination. Gold is her predominant color, and she lacks the bright rainbow patterns of her father. She does have pale green scales scattered along her length, but they are so spread apart they simply make it look as if she has a greenish tint in the right light. The most obvious marking her scales bear is the gray spiral on both of her shoulders. The outer part of the spiral starts out pale, with gold scales sprinkled among the light gray ones. As the spiral goes inward, it gets much darker. But it doesn’t equal the dark, almost black gray of her feathers. Amunet has tufts of feathers at the elbow joints of her front legs and at her ankles. She also has a crest of thicker feathers that starts at her forehead and ends about a third of the way down her neck. The feathers in these locations bear more resemblance to the tail feathers of a peacock than the flight feathers of most other birds. When they lie flat, they look more like hair than feathers. When raised, the similarity doesn’t entirely disappear. Amunet’s crest and tuft feathers don’t look solid. Instead, the shaft of each feather has long, wispy tufts spilling off of it. The feathers on her wings and tail are far more typical, being stiff enough to make them useful in steering. The crest of spines and skin along her hindquarters is only half-raised most of the time, only raising fully when she is angry or agitated. The crest on her head is raised far more often, to signify any strong emotion, or even simple interest. Her body doesn’t have much thickness to it, typical of her breed. Amunet’s proportions are like those of a stretched out sighthound. Her neck is thicker than her head, and her chest tucks up slightly. Even the limbs that have to support her great length are slim and delicate-looking. The muscles that attach her wings to her body are the thickest ones she possesses. This thinness is, perhaps, displayed best in her peculiar forepaws. They are almost exact replicas of human hands, from the writs to the thumb to the position of her black claws. Even though she’ll be more and more limited in what she can safely handle as she grows, she will still possess far more dexterity than dragons with more paw-like hands, and certainly more than those with hooves. The price she pays for this is that the claws on her forepaws are thinner and more fragile than those on her back feet. But she is perfectly happy with them. Her crystal is located in the center of her forehead, an ankh of deep slate gray. It matches her eyes perfectly, and is only slightly lighter than the dark scales that outline said eyes. The pattern of those markings is very similar to Ancient Egyptian makeup, as her eyes are completely encircled and two long lines extend from both corners of her eyes. The ones that go towards the back of her head are longer than the ones in front, almost meeting her dark gray double horns. Personality- Snobby, haughty, witty (Will fill out laterrr) Parents- Father Celestial Aurum, Mother Air Ionos Hatching Scene-
User Information Username- ManekiNeko Contact- PM is good. Yourself- I have five cats, and I like writing original fiction. How did you find Sekkai? Clicking random buttons on random sites ;-_- |
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| Balu | Dec 21 2010, 10:07 PM Post #2 |
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Perpetually sketching
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[align=center]Accepted[/align] |
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