Post by aitvaras on Jan 11, 2010 18:36:12 GMT
[Doesn't belong to me!!]
----Character Biography----[/u][/i]
Name:
Aitvaras Moon
Race
Elf
Age:
appears 28, is about 100 in reality
Gender:
Male
Profession:
Doing whatever he wants, whenever he wants as he runs from authority that he feels doesn't deserve his respect.
Class
Knight.
Species Skill
Elven Nature: Elves automatically start with the level 2 magic Cura, however they must purchase cure before upgrading to curaga
Organization:
Not yet
Alignment
Neutral evil
Home Continent:
Lindblum
Personality:
He appears cold at first glance and dislikes touch that doesn't serve a purpose. It doesn't mean that he isn't found often in beds of women and men alike, it serves only purpose for him, pleasure. It is maybe the only thing that he got from birth, disliking holding hands or whatever because of his parents, only using touch if he needs something. He is a character that one simply likes or hates, there isn't really a between with him if it comes down to it. He also loves playing with his hair or people their feelings.
He also is just someone that takes something if he needs it, he doesn't respect everyone and none is sure how to get it. He only would respect an older elf than him, but it seems that it is very rare to meet an older elf, only younger that he considers as children like he does with humans. But don't let this cold outer shell confuse you however, inside he is someone that craves touch from a lover and friends. He just doesn't know how to do it, never having learned it.
But for now, he snaps at everyone who dares to touch his body out of 'friendship', maybe if he manages to trust someone he would allow them to? He doesn't consider bedding someone a touch out of friendship and he always picks those he finds pleasing to the eye. He thinks that it are just two persons are just satisfying their lust, at least in his eyes, love is a foreign word for him, although he have heard it whispered countless of times. A confusing character that seems to contradict himself, but he makes sense to himself good enough and that's all that there is needed.
Appearance:
His silver hair falls straight to mid-back. The locks in the front shorter and barely passing his cheek-bones. His eyes are an equal silver color with the slightest hints of violet with a ring on the edge of a dark, almost blue looking color. There are sometimes red glasses perched on his thin shaped nose, somewhat concealing the tattoo lines on his cheek where only he knows the meaning off. His ears are pointed like any elves and many earrings decorate them, four in the left and seven in the right to be accurate. His clothes are simple and are either earthy colors or silver that brings out his hair and pale skin color.
His sword is always seen on either his back or tied around his waist with help of the belt that holds his clothes together as well. His hands are slender with long fingers and hide an almost terrible strength, like is common with most elves. His general appearance may suggest that he's a woman, if it weren't for the lack of breasts and the light bulge in his groin area. His voice is a rough baritone that is mostly used in a whisper and betrays as well that he's in fact a male. It is pleasant to listen too however, especially if it's used in singing. If he wasn't a warrior he could've been a minstrel easily.
His body is thin and lithe, also like usual in the elven race. The skin on his face is smooth, apart from the previous mentioned tattoos. The skin on his back is however littered with scars here and there, gained a few in battle. Others look a lot like nails where dragged down his back. It doesn't destroy him, neither does it add something to him. It's there and that's everything that needs to be said in Aitvaras's opinion.
Equipment:
Potions, Elixers, that sort of thing and a simple looking music instrument. The most important thing is his sword made out of a simple looking metal.
Combat Abilities:
-Sword Dance
-Sweet Revenge
Level 1 Slots:
-Sword Dance: He takes out his sword and aims while he loses everything else out of his eye, aiming only for his prey. He attacks in a flurry of sharp jabs, whirling around so that it makes it harder to hit him. It isn't impossible to hit him though, it only is a bit harder.
-Sweet Revenge: He uses his voice, infusing it with magic that he doesn't know the word for. It may make his weaker enemies fall asleep, as if he sings a soft lullaby to a child. The slightly stronger enemies will not have much trouble resisting the voice, although it may offer a distraction if he needs to flee quickly.
Level 2 Slots:
-
Level 3 Slots:
-
Magic
-Ice Materia
-searching for a cure.
Level 1 Slots
-Blizzard
Level 2 Slots
-
Level 3 slots
-
Summons:
Experience
History:
He was born, he was raised and he fled. Those would be the words he offered if questioned about his history.
He was born to an elven couple on Lindblum and was raised the first few years in the cities that littered the soil's surface. He was a curious child however and often disappeared into the woods, worrying his parents, trying to stop them with a touch, although he always withdrew before they could do so. He couldn't be stopped however, no matter how much they threatened him. He had met someone that taught him to be a knight; his relationship wavered with his parents and his mother started to blame his father for it. He became violent on those accusations and would hit her, making her beg submissive for him to stop. He hated her for that, also hated his father, he was the one that didn't look at him at all so what reason had he to hit her?
His mother cared to pretend at least. He didn't need her care however, he could do without it easily. He said so himself, but the older elf. His teacher was the only elf he trusted a bit.
His teacher was because of that the only elf who was able to touch him and the older elf did so often. The simple motion of touching his shoulder when congrulating him as he managed to do something new once more was okay for Aitvaras. He trained hard and when he hit eighty his teacher finally took him to his bed, the first time that someone had done that to him and if someone would ask Aitvaras about it he would reply that it was the best time out of his whole life. If he bothers to respond that is, it is better than those hands touching him to simple have contact.
When the night was fading and day came again his teacher explained that he didn't love the younger boy. He simple accepted this fact and his teacher took him to it a few more times before he was killed. Aitvaras still can't talk about it, he didn't love the older elf, he didn't think that he could love, but liked him well enough. The shock of seeing him dead was horrifying and although he doesn't like to admit it, he fled. He managed to get to Alexandria by a big stroke of luck.
He lived there for the next twenty years and trained himself further, honoring his teacher although the older elf was dead already. Aitvaras didn't know anything else to do to stop him from forgetting the male. He learned one another big important thing from him, to get his pleasure where he could get it and this was something he used quite often, although not as much as his ability with the sword however.
RP sample:
He was perched in one of the trees that grew freely around here. His eyes were focused on the figures moving around below him, a mocking smile had pulled the corners of his lips up and he had to shake his head lightly "Foolish.." He muttered lowly underneath his breath and finally the small laugh escaped him. He straightened and touched the sword on his back, it would have been easier if he was a rogue or something of the like, but being a knight was manageable and that was good enough.
He followed one of the woman for a while, before hissing Okay, forget that you looked at her. He commanded himself, she would have been pretty enough, if someone put a sack over her head. He had to smile once more at his own thoughts, it didn't matter if she was beautiful or not, right? It did, he preferred a bit more beautiful partners, especially if he had to see them in the face as he spoke with them, luring them in his 'trap'. He didn't know however, it wasn't really needed today, but it would prove satisfaction and he didn't know the next time when he could get someone. A small sigh escaped him and he slowly moved down the tree, he would go and try.