Post by Klaus Cither on Oct 25, 2012 0:38:16 GMT -5
[style=width: 400px; background-color: #eccf6a; font: 16px open sans condensed;serif; color: #000000; text-align: justify; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 92%; padding-top: 4px; padding-bottom: 4px; border-top: solid 5px #d6c177;]KLAUS CARDINAL CITHER[/style][style=width: 400px; background-color: #a65930;]
[style=width:400px;background-color: #d6c177; font: 16px open sans condensed;serif; color: #000000; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 92%; padding-top: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px;]THE STATISTICS[/style][style=padding: 10px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 15px 15px; border-radius: 0px 0px 15px 15px; background-color: #a65930;]
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,5,true] | [style=width: 200px; font-family: verdana; color: #e4be66;]AGE| 18. GENDER| male. RANK| guardian. OCCUPATION| guardian. |
SEXUALITY| asexual.
RACE| guardian.
CANON OR ORIGINAL| canon.[/td][/tr][/table][/style][style=width:400px;background-color: #d6c177; font: 16px open sans condensed;serif; color: #000000; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 92%; padding-top: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px;]THE MAKING[/style]
[style=width: 350px; font: 10px verdana; padding: 10px; color: #e4be66;text-align:justify; background-color: #a65930]APPEARANCE | For someone so deliciously conservative and with a shy streak, he has a bit of a . . . funny look to him. Certainly hard to miss and not-quite-conventional, which gives people the (sorrowfully and very incorrect) impression he's less serious than he is. Where to begin? First off and put beautifully simple, Klaus comes across as strange. His hair is a dusty, grandfather-shade of gray cut messily about the nape of his neck and with no order to the madness. His bangs never get out of his eyes quick enough, either—just a fun fact he loves to grumble about when he thinks he's alone. His stare is intense, eyes shockingly blue and bright against rather a dead-pale complexion, as well as shrewd. Klaus's expressions are the bare minimum—he occasionally manages nervous smiles and is quick to flush. Under both eyes are identical twin marks: teal, similar to the blue of his eyes, and drawn in thick lines.
His clothes are loose and overgrown, as if they expected to end up on someone bigger and got Klaus instead. And the colors? All manners of royal purple, muted violet and striking gold. Klaus purrs like a contented house cat when surrounded by his favorites, a particular lover of some ridiculous and specific shade like "eggplant." Despite their useless tassels, his tunics lack all the flair and refinement expected of nobles. Quietly, they reflect that Klaus does not consider himself upper class—and finds anything he doesn't take a liking to completely suffocating and impossible to keep on. (He won't keep it on, either, particularly in the case of shirts. This caused, ahem, problems when he was younger and couldn't fathom why people made such a show out of what he was—or was not—wearing.) He wears double bracelets on both wrists and sports a sapphire stud in one ear. One and only one! Remember it.
Finally, he is all sinewy muscle and stick-thin, known for having none of the build of your normal Guardian. Klaus feels light and extremely ordinary, as if he might be your lazy stable boy snoozing in the back or the neighbors unreliable son with no work ethic. He grew up rather than across, more leg than anything, and stands somewhere between 6'0 and 6'1. Other Guardians get a hearty laugh out of watching him squirm, not used to being particularly incompetent in any area.
PERSONALITY |
+ he's, ahem, "born with a gift of silence." Klaus speaks rarely, usually preferring to go unaddressed and left alone.
+ loyalty is bred into the Guardians.
+ intelligent and introspective, he lives inside himself. Very few people know his inner world, which is exactly the way he wants it to be, and he can be surprisingly shy for all that stoic, self-involved silence.
+ princely in the traditional way; soft-spoken with a graceless kind of honesty, protective, and very much an old-style gentleman who's loyal and liable to protect you from the big, bad world outside. For this, women rather like him, and he rather gets embarrassed by that.
+ although not particularly demonstrative—only a very, very confused person would call him a talker; hugger if they are clinically insane—Klaus is mature to a shocking degree. He’s empathetic, and able to endure more emotional storms than the average. He takes care of himself, listens to orders without batting an eye, and won't sneer at his enemies behind their backs. The only business he cares about is his own.
+ despite whatever he actually believes about the world, Klaus makes valiant attempts to come off as trustworthy, curious, and mild. Turns out that he can smile, shock of all shocks, and likes to be thought of as kind. (And lives up to that standard, very much gentle with people who deserve it.)
+ he has a unique . . . brand of passion, and in his day-to-day life can burn at four-hundred degrees. Quietly, but it singes all the same, and so he falls in and out of love easily—not-quite-campy or love-chaser worthy, but getting there. (Definitely touching on it.) In general, he's intense, and is eager to be accepted by people.
- Klaus is cripplingly devoted. He has very little identity outside of Guardian, and has never sought one out; he has been told, time and again, that his only purpose is performing a service for the Kingdom.
- his inner monologues are sometimes less nice than you might be led to believe. Kind of funny, though. (And to those who want to complain: stay out of his head, then.)
- although tolerate of people's demands, he flat out refuses what he knows he can't do. Call him stubborn, but a good part of this comes from not caring about what others want or expect.
- his temper is horrible. Rarely seen, but horrible. Klaus will demolish anyone that toes too far over the line. Silently, of course, and never with any great rush of emotion.
- Klaus is icy below everything else. Whatever he thinks must be kept tightly controlled and revolve around the noble world of his Kings. He is as much a weapon as his own person, and sometimes he deeply resents—even bitterly despises—his position.
- aware that he's only important if his Prince survives, he does reckless things and seems hugely unafraid of death; begs for it. Calling him self-destructive is certainly not a stretch.
- a hopeless romantic, he does tend toward saying the wrong thing and isn't afraid of . . . using impressive lines. Colder people have went so far as to accuse him of being "shameless" or "corrupting the innocent." Much to his own confusion. (No, no, he has an urban legend love life . . . really . . .)
[/style][style=padding: 10px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 15px 15px; border-radius: 0px 0px 15px 15px; font-size: 10px;]
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,5,true] | [style=width: 200px;font: 12px open sans condensed;serif; color: #e4be66;]LIKES: - sweets - animals - reading - the outdoors - silence - home-cooking - cuteness, as defined by . . . er, him - horses - intelligence, or at least common sense - compassion | [style=width: 200px;font: 12px open sans condensed;serif; color: #e4be66;]DISLIKES: - emotional messiness - idiots - blind faith - impolite idiots - losing in a spar - help - cruelty - praise/attention - talking when he isn't interested - drinking, he should avoid that |
[style=width: 350px; padding: 10px; font: 10px verdana; color: #e4be66;text-align:justify; background-color: #a65930]WEAPON | Klaus has access to a bastard sword through his shapeshifting ability, although this would be the only weapon he physically uses. Not especially noteworthy save the black and red coloring, it is light-weight, making for easier use than might be expected. He only mastered one sword style and few techniques, and his tutors advised him to sharpen what he could do over versatility. As a result, he focuses on attacking vital spots rather than playing the showman. If he draws his blade, then he means to kill you and nothing else.
WEAPON LEVEL | Level 3.
SPECIAL ABILITY |
Fireshift - named a fire starter, for his ability to direct the natural flow of fire, Klaus might better call it fire manipulation. He doesn’t have a good grasp of other elementals, but is considered wickedly talented with one—and sometimes that can be enough. After creating the initial spark, he does need time (one to two posts) for the fire to grow and finish his incantation, and then can arguably mold walls of flame, create rings, agitate the fire, block attacks
While balanced between defensive and offensive ability, he isn’t exempt from being burned by his own flames and—much more lethally—smoke inhalation. The larger the flame, the more noxious smoke pollutes the air, and this creates a vicious cycle of trying to control the fire while avoiding internal injuries on his own (and the enemy’s) part. As a fireshifter, he battles with very little fear, and it could be argued that one reason he’s occasionally careless is because his ability is already quite dangerous.
Shapeshift - metamorphosis is his forte, changing and altering the qualities of objects as they come provided that they are already imbued with a curse mark—a symbol that channels magic. Fortunately, this is largely the reason he can go without armor when most normal fighters cannot: as long as the curse mark remains intact, the glossy mechanical wings he sports can move fluidly between shield, sword, projectile, and barrier. Blood bound and underneath the metal surface, literally inside its circuitry, Klaus avoids letting others see the mark; if it were simple to identify, then people could easily guess he’s a shifter. A second aspect would be that the magic rebounds—he will take half the damage of whatever the curse mark resided on—and fails when the mark is destroyed rather than deactivated. Rather a specialized form of magic, it is considered very difficult to master and use effectively, and allows for control of inanimate objects with the cursed mark drawn onto them. This particular art form, in the world of alchemical magic, is used for creating golems or animating armor. The spell remains in play until the curse mark is destroyed, not relying on Klaus himself, but he does tire after about six posts when controlling another object and receive damage identical in place to whatever is inflicted.
ARMOR | Although his bracelets are bewitched with a variety of protection hexes, Klaus has never had any great urge to run out and invest in a good suit of armor. If the situation demands it, he may wear leather plates or light-weight brigandine, but even then he seems to
[/style][style=padding: 10px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 15px 15px; border-radius: 0px 0px 15px 15px;]
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,5,true] | [style=width: 200px; font: 12px open sans condensed;serif; color: #e4be66;]STRENGTHS: - indomitable - strategic - cooperative - sorcery is incredibly versatile - fearless, and willing to take on another's burden | [style=width: 200px;font: 12px open sans condensed;serif; color: #e4be66;]WEAKNESSES: - self-destructive - distrusting - fighting style is not versatile - careful to a fault - can be easily stressed |
[style=width: 350px; padding: 10px; font: 10px verdana; color: #e4be66;text-align:justify; background-color: #a65930]INVENTORY | Nothing of any note, except a deck of playing cards. He has a soft spot for card games.[/style]
[style=width:400px;background-color: #d6c177; font: 16px open sans condensed;serif; color: #000000; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 92%; padding-top: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px;]THE HISTORY[/style]
[style=width: 350px; padding: 10px; font: 10px verdana; color: #e4be66;text-align:justify; background-color: #a65930]Klaus Cither came into this world in the grand capital of Skara, born in a quiet house between weaving back alleys and strange little shops with colorful windows. Whether the names actually belong to him is something he doesn’t know, taken from that home as soon as they found his mark. Guardians have no family and no life outside the castle—it is a detail; they forget it, and from four on he went under the wing of a fellow Guardian and magic tutor named Faas Isvak. That began the painful, long hours of training that would shape him into one of the nation’s finest fighters—the Kingdom expected excellent things of all the Guardians, and by fifteen they should be able to down assassins twenty years their senior in a beat. The only solution, as Faas told him later, is to start early.
A child, he didn’t know anything different and rather enjoyed having a personal teacher and living in the lower quarters of the palace. Klaus spent most of his time wandering after Faas like a lost little duck, not sure what else to do with himself when he didn’t need to learn sword skills or recite the history of the Fabre line. He didn’t have many friends since Faas, very much a traditionalist, wasn’t afraid of reminding him that Guardians and royals do well to stay away from each other. Bad blood, he said, and you exist as a servant to them. Servitude drew an ugly line that even he saw, and Klaus remembered that he was confined primarily to the castle and nobody except Faas much cared about what he did or why.
At eleven, he finally had the privilege of meeting the youngest prince, and might have expected more with how his teachers talked about them. Still young enough to be surly, he became thoroughly convinced the youngest Prince was—in fact—the youngest Princess. An accidental trouble-maker when he had the chance, Klaus did make a game out of treating the prince as if he were, and they . . . got along well enough to prefer to avoid each other. Not interested in his charge very much, Klaus poured his life into his studies, and Faas became more insistent on getting the truth drummed through that thick skull: a Guardian doesn’t like the Royal family, but he pretends to as part of his position. He would be expected to shadow him now, and disappointing Faas enough times had him passably tamed. From there Klaus did his best to endure the nobles.
They were a petulant, self-serving, and clannish sort, and he would be expected to give his life for them whenever the time came. At first the whispers about bastard sons felt mundane—it was, after all, obvious. The same practices for centuries, but Klaus found himself staring at the strange look on the prince’s face whenever a lord or lady snarled something particularly vulgar. It felt lonely, and he pitied him. Faas always told him that very little royalty respected Guardians, one part servant and the other doomed to failed love affairs in the castle, but the Prince was a son of the Royal family. With that on his shoulders, it must have crippled to need to respect the whims of those who should be lesser than you. The thoughts were callous then, but he quickly grew to care about him—although they barely spoke, he spent much of his time looking after him. The Prince stayed the only other person he knew well aside from Faas, and it didn’t go unnoticed that he grew humbler, nobler, and more genuinely than what he expected from royalty. In that, he liked him, and eventually—at fifteen, edging on sixteen—he even loved him, but swallowed the idea down. Klaus had his place in the world, and settled for artfully playing the part of Guardian; called him highness, knew how to be endearing even if stuffily polite, laughed so often he may as well be grim. He stayed at a proper distance. (But Klaus did smile some days, in that stiff way knights are supposed to.)
After a few years of learning the role, Klaus ignored whatever it was he thought he felt. He could think of him as his Highness, and the one who could send him to an early grave. He kept close to Faas, who seemed only more disillusioned with the monarchy while Klaus began to accept it as inevitable, and they didn’t grow apart so much as Faas concerned him. In a private moment, they had a fierce argument over a spar and Faas explained that he intended to join the resistance. He advised Klaus to make the same choice unless he wanted to live out his life with no freedom and as a tool of the Kingdom, and he is left considering what he should do with the invitation.[/style]
[style=width: 400px; background-color: #eccf6a; font: 12px open sans condensed;serif; color: #000000; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 92%; padding-top: 4px; padding-bottom: 4px; border-bottom: solid 5px #d6c177;]SAMEDI | FACECLAIM: SOUL NOMAD - GIG | TEMPLATE CREATED BY CHARIZA OF ote[/style][/style]
[/center]
