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And the Hero Will Drown -Kingdom Hearts-

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Author Topic: And the Hero Will Drown -Kingdom Hearts-  (Read 1243 times)
Adventurous Watcher
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« Reply #15 on: April 27, 2009, 07:21:56 pm »

Name: Peter Young, generally known as Tirin.

Sex: Male

Age:  347

Keyblade: N/A

Drive Forms:

Appearance: Tirin appears as a pale, muscular boy standing five feet, ten inches tall and weighing something along the lines of one hundred eighty pounds. No matter what environment he currently finds himself inhabiting, he wears nothing more than a black cloak and tunic, as well as (also) black trousers - even in such frigid areas as the far north of Cosna, he is entirely at ease in such apparently inadequate clothing. His hair is dark-brown and falls to roughly eye-level in the front.  His eyes change between green, brown, and grey periodically or at will. Covering his feet are black leather boots (Which were once brown, but have after dozens of years have gone through so much bloodstains to 'warp' in color) - however, none of these features gains him much attention. His single most obvious feature is the black sword nearly as long as he is tall strapped to his back, it's hilt protruding over his shoulder. He wields this weapon with incredible, almost oblivious ease, even going so far as to slash men in half with a single fluid stroke. He also maintains that the blade speaks to him telepathically, although whether or not that is true is unknown - people just don't call him on it.

If he ever releases the entirety of his power in anger, however, his form changes entirely to a monstrous warrior that takes refuge in humanity's greatest nightmares, his skin warping to a shadowy black as he grows two feet taller, like-colored wings taking up residence on his back. His eyes burn a hideous red, and death follows in his wake, an uncontrollable monster released for a length of time ranging from a few hours to several months. In contrast, with valiant intent he merely experiences this growth and the 'sudden' appearance of angelic wings.

Personality: Tirin is an intelligent (although incredibly lazy for the most part) person, curious about everything and making it his business to delve as deep into the affairs of others as is possible. Despite hundreds of years of experience with almost every problem to be had in Cosna behind him, he is cheerful and a bit of a womanizer, probably a result of his teenage body.  While certainly able to distinguish between the concepts of good and evil, he has no real preference between the two of them and will not treat people according to their beliefs on the matter, but absolutely hates to see the latter of the concepts triumph; It always unleashes the most brutal of monarchs, and through them the cruelty of the human soul. While possessing an explosive temper once it is aroused, it is quite thankfully buried deep beneath the seeds of laze and wish to uphold 'his' world's honor, laws, and customs.

Personal History: While his personal history would be incredibly difficult to document adequately in a single book, he has made adventuring his only major ('major' meaning 'life-consuming') interest in the last few hundred years, aside from actively seeking out a woman to spend his time with. While he is not well-known in the least near the beginning of his escapades nearly three hundred and fifty years ago, he has personally claimed to have served as a catalyst for most (if not all) major events, whether or not these events had a positive impact on the world. This includes the legendary Fifty-Year War, during which time the northern and southern sections of Cosna turned against each other in a massive conflict that ended with a terrible recession in the economy, and centered around the power that the Church held (and still holds) - each wanted control of the Church and the ability to sway the citizens to their 'side'. During this period, Tirin (and most other warriors of his caliber) fought for the severely outnumbered northern kingdoms, those in the south ruled mainly by brutal monarchs who would do whatever it took to get what they wanted, even if it meant the ruination of their kingdoms, which Tirin was all too happy to oblige to.

Significant Other: None, although he is actively seeking for one throughout his travels.

Education: No formal education; Learned everything he has through experience and a particular interest in magic, particularly the domains surrounding the concepts known as Darkness, Light, Cold, and Time. He began adventuring at a relatively young age.

Occupation: Self-proclaimed Champion of the Realm.

Morality: Chaotic Neutral. Tirin does what he wants, when he wants, to get what he wants, and will help or harm whoever he has to in his pursuit of happiness. He tends to take the 'helpful' way, mainly to gain more allies, and has nothing but scorn and hatred for brutal tyrants.

Interests/Hobbies: Reading, studying, music (Both playing and listening).

Habits: Often sings, even during combat. Drinks more often than is necessary. Finds the need to curse every so often.

Likes: Women, causing 'natural' disasters, sweet (and/or alcoholic) beverages, decent food, and, above all, a decent challenge in combat.

Dislikes: Tyrants, unnecessary brutality.

Fears/Phobias: Tirin's only fear is that he will one day find love and it will be snatched away from him permanently and without warning, leaving him hopeless for the rest of eternity.

Talents: Magic: Tirin's list of (commonly-used) magical abilities tend to lean towards consuming his foes in clouds of corrosive shadows and shaping raw energy to his will. He only uses what he knows of time-based magic in emergencies, as, in his mind, it takes the fun out of combat.

Talents: Physicality: Tirin is strong and fast beyond any normal human being, and would probably consider a battle with fifty brigands an unfair fight - in his favor, no less. That said, against an equal number of trained warriors, he would have to rely on his magical strength much more than his physical, keeping his distance.

Goals in Life: Without a lifespan to speak of, Tirin lacks any goals to achieve before it ends; The only thing resembling it is to find somebody to settle down with amid all of the suffering covering the rest of the world, and live in relative peace, called on when he is needed.

Motivation: Tirin's motivation is to become a "God" - which has a much different usage in his world than it tends to in others. In Cosna, a God is a champion of spells or steel, able to overcome entire armies by themselves, and very much respected (and, in some cases, completely feared) by the general populace. He does this to follow in the footsteps of his cousin Matthew, who he looks up to as a role model despite his age.

Three Wishes: Tirinís 3 Wishes are:
1. To find true love - something he has never experienced despite an infinite lifespan.
2. To keep having fun for the rest of eternity.
3. (Uncharacteristically) To get rid of every tyrant in the countries of Cosna.

Misc.: Eyes turn red when angered. This is mostly a warning to those around him.

Intro Post: Tirin woke up in a small hut in the far north of Cosna, unsure of the time - it was still dark out, but these days, it was always dark out. Judging by his general alertness, however, it was somewhere in the early A.M., since he had gone to sleep around 3 in the afternoon. Getting himself dressed as quickly as he possibly could, he placed the large blade on his back and teleported to the city of Palpitin, filled with large castles and majestic buildings - under which nestle nothing but villainy. He strolled around the back alleyways, making as much noise as he possibly could to attract a little 'attention'.

Sure enough, a small crowd of roughly a dozen men formed around him, pressing him back to the cool stone that made up the majority of the city's buildings - and all of them in this district. Their eyes went to the large hilt protruding over his back, but they didn't much care - it was nothing to them wielded by a kid who couldn't lift it with two arms. They drew several short blades, one drawing it to the teen's throat. "Give us all of your money, and we'll let you go. If not, we're going to take it. Understand?" He hissed, his eyes showing an intelligence evidently not possessed by the rest of the group. "You have no idea who the hell you're messing with." Was Tirin's annoyed reply. "Hm... Well, we've got our answer, boys. Somebody wants to play t-" He let out a strangled cry as he fell to the ground, his own blade driven into his throat.

Within a few minutes of eager bloodletting, the entire brace of bandits were lying on the ground, dead or close to it, and each missing a limb - mostly arms or legs, but one or two had been decapitated. Their blood was spreading thickly on the ground,  seeping into drains. The boy flicked his wrist, the gore coating the sword flicking onto the wall in the moment before he sheathed it, leaving the alley with an entertained grin on his face. The criminals hadn't been a challenge in the slightest, but they had certainly been an entertainment to watch flounder about in their own vital fluids. A single coherent thought rang in Tirin's mind: Ah, it's going to be a long night in Palpitin...
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