Post by Laughing Man on Aug 9, 2010 22:03:49 GMT -5
Name: Minh Kaizu
Age: 49
Race: Half Elf
Physical Description: A tall, skinny frame stacked upon long, athletic legs stands before you. The male's posture is askew, as if he's balancing on one foot. The foot is concealed by dyed and worn leather boots the color of the deepest crimson that could ever leak of a slit throat. His long, muscular legs are wrapped in cloths the same hew as the boots while the leather underneath is dyed a deep royal purple and gold quilt-pattern. The pattern continues up his chest and out to his arms, in a full leather suit that fits tightly to his chiseled, but rather small body. The twin Starknives in his hands, symbols of Desna. The small face is concealed by a white harlequin mask, smiling sinisterly with a single, bloody tear emitting from the right eye. The odd angles of the mask cast long shadows upon it, giving the appearance of movement, eerily making it seem like his real face. Set behind the mask is a soft, young(For a half-elf) face with hazel and brown eyes speckled with gold as if a pattern of stars was dashed into them. His hair is long, and tied into a single, long ponytail of ebon that protrudes from his otherwise bald head. On his wrists are two cloth bands of the same deep crimson as the cloth about his legs. From each one dangles a brightly-colored butterfly charm carved of Rose Quartz: Another symbol of the Goddess of Travel, Desna.
Personality: CG: Minh is not bound by the codes of man. In most cases, he is on the roads, travelling with carvans, or just wandering through a forest to seek out shrines of Desna, or just a serenely beautiful spot to gaze at the stars. When he is in town, he tends to spend his time in taverns, telling grand tales of times past, heroes are his favorite topic to tell of. He has an almost perfect memory when recalling such tales, woven into him by his father and grandfather since he was young. Not quick to anger, Minh is a very calm, but eccentric person. When he does get angry, you will never tell until you're pinned to a wall with a Starknife protruding from your chest as the Harlequin sings a tale of glorious battle into the night sky. Apt to stay away from civilization, he is well acquainted with the Gentry, or Fae Folk. Often preferring to sleep under the stars rather than the taverns he frequents for the interactions. Minh tends to shy from combat, not because he is afraid, but simply because getting into arguments takes up time he could be spending enjoying the beauty of a child's smile, or the forests. Therefore, he rarely raises his weapons to anyone, instead using them in his performance to do tricks and show off.
History: Growing up in a caravan family, most of his time was on the roads and mountain paths. His father and grandfather, and further back still, had always been known for their warm spirits and tales of distant feats of herosim whenever they visited towns to trade and buy supplies. Since he was young, he'd shown a knack for being a devious one, showing off his skills in pick-pocketing and stealthiness by playing harmless pranks on the other carvan kids. As he grew up, the Deity Desna showed favor in him, often times his carvan came across her symbols: Buttferflies in thousands, or small Monarchs and patches of Moths. Always these events were accompanied by great fortune for the family, and they were usually discovered by Minh himself. LAter he would devote himself to this goddess, embracing the night, and Desna's teachings while balancing his own heritage of the Travelling Harlequins. Minh is dangerous to cross, utilizing shadows to travel quickly and undetected before striking from them and seemingly disappearing before a chance of reaction is available. His favored weapons, and that of his goddess, are the Starknives: Deadly, four-pointed blades that were akin to giant shuriken, with a handle cut in the middle for gripping. They could be used for slashing, stabbing, or throwing. And when thrown, were known to always somehow find their way back into his hands, dripping with blood, or otherwise depedning on the target. While he is a skilled combatant, he is quite aloof, and therefore slow to realize when things are going downhill. More than a few times he has been caught off guard and when this happens, he often gets hurt VERY, VERY badly.
Age: 49
Race: Half Elf
Physical Description: A tall, skinny frame stacked upon long, athletic legs stands before you. The male's posture is askew, as if he's balancing on one foot. The foot is concealed by dyed and worn leather boots the color of the deepest crimson that could ever leak of a slit throat. His long, muscular legs are wrapped in cloths the same hew as the boots while the leather underneath is dyed a deep royal purple and gold quilt-pattern. The pattern continues up his chest and out to his arms, in a full leather suit that fits tightly to his chiseled, but rather small body. The twin Starknives in his hands, symbols of Desna. The small face is concealed by a white harlequin mask, smiling sinisterly with a single, bloody tear emitting from the right eye. The odd angles of the mask cast long shadows upon it, giving the appearance of movement, eerily making it seem like his real face. Set behind the mask is a soft, young(For a half-elf) face with hazel and brown eyes speckled with gold as if a pattern of stars was dashed into them. His hair is long, and tied into a single, long ponytail of ebon that protrudes from his otherwise bald head. On his wrists are two cloth bands of the same deep crimson as the cloth about his legs. From each one dangles a brightly-colored butterfly charm carved of Rose Quartz: Another symbol of the Goddess of Travel, Desna.
Personality: CG: Minh is not bound by the codes of man. In most cases, he is on the roads, travelling with carvans, or just wandering through a forest to seek out shrines of Desna, or just a serenely beautiful spot to gaze at the stars. When he is in town, he tends to spend his time in taverns, telling grand tales of times past, heroes are his favorite topic to tell of. He has an almost perfect memory when recalling such tales, woven into him by his father and grandfather since he was young. Not quick to anger, Minh is a very calm, but eccentric person. When he does get angry, you will never tell until you're pinned to a wall with a Starknife protruding from your chest as the Harlequin sings a tale of glorious battle into the night sky. Apt to stay away from civilization, he is well acquainted with the Gentry, or Fae Folk. Often preferring to sleep under the stars rather than the taverns he frequents for the interactions. Minh tends to shy from combat, not because he is afraid, but simply because getting into arguments takes up time he could be spending enjoying the beauty of a child's smile, or the forests. Therefore, he rarely raises his weapons to anyone, instead using them in his performance to do tricks and show off.
History: Growing up in a caravan family, most of his time was on the roads and mountain paths. His father and grandfather, and further back still, had always been known for their warm spirits and tales of distant feats of herosim whenever they visited towns to trade and buy supplies. Since he was young, he'd shown a knack for being a devious one, showing off his skills in pick-pocketing and stealthiness by playing harmless pranks on the other carvan kids. As he grew up, the Deity Desna showed favor in him, often times his carvan came across her symbols: Buttferflies in thousands, or small Monarchs and patches of Moths. Always these events were accompanied by great fortune for the family, and they were usually discovered by Minh himself. LAter he would devote himself to this goddess, embracing the night, and Desna's teachings while balancing his own heritage of the Travelling Harlequins. Minh is dangerous to cross, utilizing shadows to travel quickly and undetected before striking from them and seemingly disappearing before a chance of reaction is available. His favored weapons, and that of his goddess, are the Starknives: Deadly, four-pointed blades that were akin to giant shuriken, with a handle cut in the middle for gripping. They could be used for slashing, stabbing, or throwing. And when thrown, were known to always somehow find their way back into his hands, dripping with blood, or otherwise depedning on the target. While he is a skilled combatant, he is quite aloof, and therefore slow to realize when things are going downhill. More than a few times he has been caught off guard and when this happens, he often gets hurt VERY, VERY badly.
' Bloody heck, two jobs and a BUNCH of kerfuffle later, and I'm back AGAIN.