Post by Deleted on Apr 18, 2014 5:02:31 GMT
"fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities. truth isn't." Character Profile |
✦ NICKNAME - Kazuki. Just Kazuki. ✦ ALLIANCE - Solarisclan. ✦ AGE - Twenty four. ✦ HEIGHT - Six feet and three inches. ✦ WEIGHT - One hundred and forty three pounds. ✦ ABILITY - Clairvoyance. |
Character Profile ✦ PERSONALITY - Kazuki can come off as a bit of a strange one, polite but distant, never quite seeming to be all there. He's painfully shy and an awkward conversationalist, seeing as he lives in fear of what others might think of his special ability and can be easily overwhelmed by too much information coming in at once. His strong sense of honor makes him strive to be honest in everything he does, but that can often come off as blunt, rude, or even judgmental at times, and he has a rather unfortunate habit of being offensive and oblivious to that fact. He's brave and loyal to his clan, one of the goody-two-shoes, overly religious types. Yet it also makes him cold toward enemies and prone to blindly following orders. He's a sweet kid, deep down, genuinely caring for the greater good above his own needs; he just needs to learn to lighten up, relax, and trust that his clanmates can care for themselves enough that he doesn't have to work himself half to death. |
CHARACTER BACK-STORY ✦ HISTORY - Kazuki was born at moonhigh, on the night of a full moon- an unfortunate time for a child of Solarisclan, as the sly moon goddess was at her full power. His mother believed strongly in the superstition but, being a mender herself and having had a rough pregnancy, knew better than to tempt fate and risk her life to postpone his birth several hours more. And thus the only child of a wise healer and a proud warrior was born, cursed with strange bicolored eyes and an eerily silent, serious presence. As an infant, he rarely cried; growing up he was always strangely solemn, following behind his mother as she went about her daily tasks, her silent little shadow. Both of his parents doted on him, each seeing themselves strongly in their child. His father, ever the strong, silent warrior, saw in his son the stern expression of a born fighter; his mother saw the slim, quiet child as the perfect mender. Going into his apprenticeship he had no idea what path he would choose- strange visions clouded his mind, of blood and violence and each of his parent's faces- and he took these to be a sign from the goddess that he was to be a fighter, and so a warrior he became. And in the early days of training he performed decently. He had a slim body, sure, but he was fast and brave and a quick learner, so it wasn't long before his mentor put him in his first fight with a fellow apprentice. Armed with his practice sword, he circled his opponent- and saw in his mind's eye their form leaping for him. He dodged, as his mentor had taught him, only to find that the other had not moved- yet. There was an awkward moment of confusion, and then the other boy took his first swing- identical to the one Kazuki had seen. It did not take long for him to discover that the little flashes of visions that had haunted him all of his life were not, in fact, his own insanity, but rather a very real manifestation of power. In a matter of days he learned to hone this skill, to no longer become paralyzed at the extra information, to use it to his advantage and dance nimbly out of the way of any attack. To his parents and other adults he was a prodigy; to the other apprentices he was the lowest of the low, a despised cheater. One day, their mentors decided to stage a war game of sorts, putting the apprentices on two teams and setting them against each other to simulate a battlefield. But while in one-on-one combat his ability had been a blessing, here it was a crippling curse. He saw a sword swing and dodged, only to discover it was his neighbor's hand that he had seen move; the agility that had before kept him out of his enemy's range now had him stumbling in the way of his allies. He was a laughingstock- and so he quit and asked to become a mender. He lasted all of one day before deciding that, though mending was a vital job, surely there had to be something else out their that better utilized his gifts. That was when he discovered hunting- the thrill of the chase, the satisfaction of seeing an arrow fly true and sink home. His visions were not constant; he could not rely upon them at all times, and that made him iffy at best as a warrior. But as a hunter they were but hints- spotting a rabbit near a certain clearing, finding the best spots with the ripest berries and freshest healing herbs, knowing a deer was about to flee and shooting it down before it could. This helped the clan; this was an honorable occupation. And, most of all, long days alone in the forest kept him away from the confusion and crippling headaches that came with a crowd. He would never forget the art of the sword, keeping a short one on him at all times; he would not forget the herbs and berries learned from days trailing his mother the mender. But he knew, with the same irrefutable knowledge that told him that the goddesses had given him this gift to better serve his clan, that his way was to be the way of the bow and the arrow- the way of the hunter. |