Post by Cass on Jan 21, 2007 2:32:13 GMT -5
Name- Nathaniel Vixx
Age- 17
Date of Birth- December 4
Homelands- Sintack
-A strange place that is coated in an eternal layer of snow. It is a city of mostly wooden structures supported by metal, and has a close community, one that does not welcome travellers. This is because most people who travel high enough in the mountains to encounter where Sintack City makes its icy nest usually have a purpose, and such purposes often aren't as cleanhearted as one would like. It is a relatively wealthy sort of city, with only one truly dirty area where those who can't make their way up the ladder of success lurk. Snow is forever falling, due to an old curse, and those who live there have grown used to it. The inhabitants make a high living selling the cheese that they can process from the milk of the slow, shaggy white mountain goats that are so common there.
Race- Part-Divine
Class- White Mage
Final- White Tirade
-A whispered apology precedes this call into the core of Thaniel's being, where the strongest healing magic lurks. He converts it into pure energy, neither good nor bad, and compacts that into a small sphere in his hand. The sphere acts as a sort of grenade; when it comes into contact with anything harder than flesh, the magic unwinds from its sphere and wraps itself in cagelike tendrils around the nearest unlucky person or monster. Then it contracts sharply, sawing hard into their skin or ripping apart their being in the case of undead monsters. As usual, Thaniel will probably bury whatever is left of the body and pray for it.
----------------------------
{Weapon information}
(Quarterstaff)
Thaniel hates using even his fists to cause harm, let alone a weapon, but this thin, long staff of wood is strapped across his back for the most extreme of situations. He can hardly lift it; his mother, he suspects, has weighted it with lead in some misconceived attempt to improve his arm strength. If that's the case, it's backfiring: he hasn't yet even removed it from his back except to sleep.
[None]
{Armour Information}
None.
{Accessory Information}
(God Pendant)
A dull grey stone hangs at the center of the unattractive but firm leather thong hanging around his slender neck. The stone appears to be nothing but a circular pond pebble, but if he chooses to use it, it will begin to pulse with a soft heartbeat.
[The God Pendant allows Thaniel to contact his father in times of need. When used, Vixx will send to him a symbol of companionship, usually in the form of an animal. Though he rarely sees it as possible before it happens, this symbol will often use its personal skills to get Thaniel out of a tough situation. But there's only so much the pendant can do, and only so big an object or creature it can send through the small circular pebble.]
{Physical Description}
Thaniel looks quite a bit the cliche White Mage. He usually wears white robes or at least a pale cloak over his clothing, which usually consists of jeans and a nondescript shirt. But there are a few not-so-subtle differences: his feet are covered in polished snow boots, he rarely keeps his hands bare, and he often wears his hood when it's not necessary. He's just too accustomed to cold for his body to truly accept that it's a bit warmer here.
He looks mostly human, as he acquired many of his mother's features. Since she was after all chosen as a tool for pleasure for her looks, this is hardly a bad thing. He has her soft, fawn-brown hair and her delicate body, as well as her small nose and mouth. His eyes, however, are soft blue, unlike her sharp grey ones. His sight is poor and he is always wearing a small pair of bronze-rimmed glasses. His hair is about to his earlobes and cut messily (he trims it himself). It is the only sloppy line on Thaniel's slender, cleanly shaped body. His palms are small but his fingers are long. There is a timid, submissive look to the his stance and his quickly lowered eyes. He is about six feet tall, lanky but still somewhat graceful, and frail.
{Background}
It started in a bar.
Thaniel had never needed a father, not really. So much of his time was spent immersed in his young excitabilities, and if not there, his healing practice. He hadn't had time for one, or he told himself so.
But it still started in a bar.
He was seven years old when he asked his mother who his father was. He didn't have to ask where he was, or why he'd left; it was obvious that she knew neither of them. Or at least, obvious in the eyes of a seven-year-old. A single question, answered after a moment's hesitation, was what made things obvious to a boy like him. Because, as he thought at the time, his mother knew everything.
"Mother?"
Silence, but for the pat of feet on hard-packed snow. Two slim, darkly outlined figures sat on a roof. They were roughly the same height. Two pairs of eyes watched the falling snow. One, a slow, battered grey. The other, inquisitive. Untouched. And so very blue.
She was looking off into the distance again. Biting his lip, the boy turned and embraced her. It was how he had best discovered to wake her from her occasional trances, a way to open her eyes, not to the world as they already were open, but to him. A way to do so without having her start, or snap at him like an animal.
She looked suddenly at him, pulled his hands away from her shoulders, and looked away again. Perhaps she hadn't heard...
"Mother?"
"What? You want something?" Her voice was harsher than his. It was frozen. The ice of Sintack had finally reached her, and she'd accepted it. He could see that happening to someone else, but not his mother. Never his mother. Things had changed.
"Yeah."
Silence.
"Mother?"
"Well, what the fuck is it then?"
He winced, but continued. He had to ask the question. "Who was my father?"
That gaze turned to meet him. He turned away from it, careful, cautious now.
"He looked like a human at the time."
That was all the information he'd ever gotten. Now, you might have noticed that nothing there had anything to do with a bar. It didn't. Because that's not where it began, on that rooftop. It began in a bar.
A god named Vixx was there.
So was a woman, a girl really, called Jessa.
The god was looking for pleasure. The girl was looking for love.
You can guess the rest.
Of course, a god has little time to raise a son, and though he knows Thaniel exists and he certainly assists him when he asks pretty-please, one has to wonder if there isn't something in it for Vixx too.
But that is a story, and here are the facts.
Thaniel Nixx is half a god.
Thaniel Nixx heals like a god.
Thaniel Nixx can really dish out those Holy attacks. Or he could, if he had the stomach to see things in pain.
Thaniel Nixx buries the dead, no matter what they look like.
Thaniel Nixx gets queasy at the slightest sight or smell of blood. Don't get a papercut near him or he might faint.
Thaniel Nixx cannot lift a sword.
And Thaniel Nixx does not need a father.
{Pictures}
(None)
Age- 17
Date of Birth- December 4
Homelands- Sintack
-A strange place that is coated in an eternal layer of snow. It is a city of mostly wooden structures supported by metal, and has a close community, one that does not welcome travellers. This is because most people who travel high enough in the mountains to encounter where Sintack City makes its icy nest usually have a purpose, and such purposes often aren't as cleanhearted as one would like. It is a relatively wealthy sort of city, with only one truly dirty area where those who can't make their way up the ladder of success lurk. Snow is forever falling, due to an old curse, and those who live there have grown used to it. The inhabitants make a high living selling the cheese that they can process from the milk of the slow, shaggy white mountain goats that are so common there.
Race- Part-Divine
Class- White Mage
Final- White Tirade
-A whispered apology precedes this call into the core of Thaniel's being, where the strongest healing magic lurks. He converts it into pure energy, neither good nor bad, and compacts that into a small sphere in his hand. The sphere acts as a sort of grenade; when it comes into contact with anything harder than flesh, the magic unwinds from its sphere and wraps itself in cagelike tendrils around the nearest unlucky person or monster. Then it contracts sharply, sawing hard into their skin or ripping apart their being in the case of undead monsters. As usual, Thaniel will probably bury whatever is left of the body and pray for it.
----------------------------
{Weapon information}
(Quarterstaff)
Thaniel hates using even his fists to cause harm, let alone a weapon, but this thin, long staff of wood is strapped across his back for the most extreme of situations. He can hardly lift it; his mother, he suspects, has weighted it with lead in some misconceived attempt to improve his arm strength. If that's the case, it's backfiring: he hasn't yet even removed it from his back except to sleep.
[None]
{Armour Information}
None.
{Accessory Information}
(God Pendant)
A dull grey stone hangs at the center of the unattractive but firm leather thong hanging around his slender neck. The stone appears to be nothing but a circular pond pebble, but if he chooses to use it, it will begin to pulse with a soft heartbeat.
[The God Pendant allows Thaniel to contact his father in times of need. When used, Vixx will send to him a symbol of companionship, usually in the form of an animal. Though he rarely sees it as possible before it happens, this symbol will often use its personal skills to get Thaniel out of a tough situation. But there's only so much the pendant can do, and only so big an object or creature it can send through the small circular pebble.]
{Physical Description}
Thaniel looks quite a bit the cliche White Mage. He usually wears white robes or at least a pale cloak over his clothing, which usually consists of jeans and a nondescript shirt. But there are a few not-so-subtle differences: his feet are covered in polished snow boots, he rarely keeps his hands bare, and he often wears his hood when it's not necessary. He's just too accustomed to cold for his body to truly accept that it's a bit warmer here.
He looks mostly human, as he acquired many of his mother's features. Since she was after all chosen as a tool for pleasure for her looks, this is hardly a bad thing. He has her soft, fawn-brown hair and her delicate body, as well as her small nose and mouth. His eyes, however, are soft blue, unlike her sharp grey ones. His sight is poor and he is always wearing a small pair of bronze-rimmed glasses. His hair is about to his earlobes and cut messily (he trims it himself). It is the only sloppy line on Thaniel's slender, cleanly shaped body. His palms are small but his fingers are long. There is a timid, submissive look to the his stance and his quickly lowered eyes. He is about six feet tall, lanky but still somewhat graceful, and frail.
{Background}
It started in a bar.
Thaniel had never needed a father, not really. So much of his time was spent immersed in his young excitabilities, and if not there, his healing practice. He hadn't had time for one, or he told himself so.
But it still started in a bar.
He was seven years old when he asked his mother who his father was. He didn't have to ask where he was, or why he'd left; it was obvious that she knew neither of them. Or at least, obvious in the eyes of a seven-year-old. A single question, answered after a moment's hesitation, was what made things obvious to a boy like him. Because, as he thought at the time, his mother knew everything.
"Mother?"
Silence, but for the pat of feet on hard-packed snow. Two slim, darkly outlined figures sat on a roof. They were roughly the same height. Two pairs of eyes watched the falling snow. One, a slow, battered grey. The other, inquisitive. Untouched. And so very blue.
She was looking off into the distance again. Biting his lip, the boy turned and embraced her. It was how he had best discovered to wake her from her occasional trances, a way to open her eyes, not to the world as they already were open, but to him. A way to do so without having her start, or snap at him like an animal.
She looked suddenly at him, pulled his hands away from her shoulders, and looked away again. Perhaps she hadn't heard...
"Mother?"
"What? You want something?" Her voice was harsher than his. It was frozen. The ice of Sintack had finally reached her, and she'd accepted it. He could see that happening to someone else, but not his mother. Never his mother. Things had changed.
"Yeah."
Silence.
"Mother?"
"Well, what the fuck is it then?"
He winced, but continued. He had to ask the question. "Who was my father?"
That gaze turned to meet him. He turned away from it, careful, cautious now.
"He looked like a human at the time."
That was all the information he'd ever gotten. Now, you might have noticed that nothing there had anything to do with a bar. It didn't. Because that's not where it began, on that rooftop. It began in a bar.
A god named Vixx was there.
So was a woman, a girl really, called Jessa.
The god was looking for pleasure. The girl was looking for love.
You can guess the rest.
Of course, a god has little time to raise a son, and though he knows Thaniel exists and he certainly assists him when he asks pretty-please, one has to wonder if there isn't something in it for Vixx too.
But that is a story, and here are the facts.
Thaniel Nixx is half a god.
Thaniel Nixx heals like a god.
Thaniel Nixx can really dish out those Holy attacks. Or he could, if he had the stomach to see things in pain.
Thaniel Nixx buries the dead, no matter what they look like.
Thaniel Nixx gets queasy at the slightest sight or smell of blood. Don't get a papercut near him or he might faint.
Thaniel Nixx cannot lift a sword.
And Thaniel Nixx does not need a father.
{Pictures}
(None)