Post by Deleted on Jan 23, 2015 9:08:01 GMT -5
LAWRENCE CORNWELL
THE VAGRANT
beastfolk | 20 | male |
neutral | WARRIOR | MERCENARY |
appearance, A silver mane and cerulean eyes have long since been the trademark of Lawrence. Sporting pointed ears and lengthened canines due to his heritage, Lawrence often ensures that his hair is long enough to hide such features. His most used outfit is a mix and match of tanned leathers and dyed cotton. Black long sleeves whose collar reaches to his jaw is covered by a patchwork of leather straps that act as his protection. Toughened animal hides make up his pants, durable enough to not break apart during his less than sophisticated life style. His ensemble is perpetually hidden beneath a weathered brown cloak. A vertical scar, roughly an inch and half in length, runs down his left temple. A metal face mask, dotted with holes, cover the lower part of his face in an attempt to further hide his elongated canines. | personality, Quiet and serious, the mercenary doesn't make it a point to chat up every breathing thing that comes into view. Lawrence is more or less content with letting everyone else do the talking while he simply follows the orders. More often than not, the mercenary treats every encounter as if it was business. Unfortunately, his business lies on the sharper end of a weapon. He's dull, uninspiring, and prefers to just have the job finished as opposed to lounging around. Though not quite quick to anger, Lawrence harbours the emotions in a vice and isn't one to easily let go of transgressions. Revenge is a concept he is quite familiar with. And despite his usual countenance, the silver haired mercenary has a taste for fighting. Even if it isn't his first answer to the problems presented to him, it's one that he enjoys using. |
history,
It was cold. Unusually so in a small settlement where traders and sellswords scarcely cross. Yet it was here where the wails of a newborn was celebrated. Being a small group of beast folk, every addition to their growing family was a celebrated occasion. It was here where Lawrence had been born as a healthy baby boy. Traces of his wolf lineage could barely be seen but in the Meritrocacy-minded people, that was barely a problem.
The night was young and there was much celebration to be had. It was doubly special even when the people had taken into account that a caravan of travellers had decided to spend the night there a few hours into the party. Welcomed with open arms, the travellers accepted the offer and they too lost themselves in the celebration.
Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and months turned into years. The young Lawrence had been playing in the hills with some of his friends when the scent of burning became too strong to ignore. Hiking to crest one of the taller hills in the area, the children were welcomed with the sight of their village being invaded by brigands. A mismatch of screams could be heard, where humans and beast folk fought each other for reasons that were worlds apart. The children, Lawrence included, hurried to the village. Their feet and paws carrying them as fast as they could yet were only met with the sharpened edges of a weapon. Many of the invaders were killed. Many more of the villagers were slain.
In the end, the brigands had been the victors and the entire settlement that Lawrence had been born and grew in was razed to the ground. Whoever survived was killed. Whether they were men, women, old, or young. No one that even remotely looked like a beast was spared. It was certainly only by chance that Lawrence, with a few other children, had been spared because they looked too human. There weren't any sort of notable difference during the afterglow of a victory and they found themselves bagged.
The seasons from there on out began to blur for the young Lawrence. His days were spent hammering away at objects. Sewing objects. Cooking, cleaning, maintaining, and anything else that the brigands needed for maintenance. Lifeless and dulled eyes had long since replaced the vibrant and youthful cerulean eyes that the child known as Lawrence had once held. At least until he had become old enough to be drafted into the available fighting force. Brigands, mercenaries, sellswords, whatever it really was that had kidnapped the child didn't have the longest life span.
Inadvertently, people died and dead people needed to be replaced. A spare spear had been shoved into his hands and the teenager who had been so used to simply being in the background had been forced to fight. It started off with killing easy prey, then group exercises. Soon enough, the once scared and foolish teenager had once more watched the seasons pass him by. Unlike before however, the adult that he had become began to enjoy the spray of blood and the feeling of joy that lanced through his being whenever he proved himself better. The seasons that had once been tainted a dull grey had now become a vibrant red. Red as the blood that the spear in Lawrence's hands had shed.
Really, it was only an eventuality for when Lawrence would finally be dispatched on a long term mission that was meant for another extermination. Yet, with his memory fogged by the haze of battle, the Beastfolk could only smile beneath his facemask in anticipation.
The night was young and there was much celebration to be had. It was doubly special even when the people had taken into account that a caravan of travellers had decided to spend the night there a few hours into the party. Welcomed with open arms, the travellers accepted the offer and they too lost themselves in the celebration.
Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and months turned into years. The young Lawrence had been playing in the hills with some of his friends when the scent of burning became too strong to ignore. Hiking to crest one of the taller hills in the area, the children were welcomed with the sight of their village being invaded by brigands. A mismatch of screams could be heard, where humans and beast folk fought each other for reasons that were worlds apart. The children, Lawrence included, hurried to the village. Their feet and paws carrying them as fast as they could yet were only met with the sharpened edges of a weapon. Many of the invaders were killed. Many more of the villagers were slain.
In the end, the brigands had been the victors and the entire settlement that Lawrence had been born and grew in was razed to the ground. Whoever survived was killed. Whether they were men, women, old, or young. No one that even remotely looked like a beast was spared. It was certainly only by chance that Lawrence, with a few other children, had been spared because they looked too human. There weren't any sort of notable difference during the afterglow of a victory and they found themselves bagged.
The seasons from there on out began to blur for the young Lawrence. His days were spent hammering away at objects. Sewing objects. Cooking, cleaning, maintaining, and anything else that the brigands needed for maintenance. Lifeless and dulled eyes had long since replaced the vibrant and youthful cerulean eyes that the child known as Lawrence had once held. At least until he had become old enough to be drafted into the available fighting force. Brigands, mercenaries, sellswords, whatever it really was that had kidnapped the child didn't have the longest life span.
Inadvertently, people died and dead people needed to be replaced. A spare spear had been shoved into his hands and the teenager who had been so used to simply being in the background had been forced to fight. It started off with killing easy prey, then group exercises. Soon enough, the once scared and foolish teenager had once more watched the seasons pass him by. Unlike before however, the adult that he had become began to enjoy the spray of blood and the feeling of joy that lanced through his being whenever he proved himself better. The seasons that had once been tainted a dull grey had now become a vibrant red. Red as the blood that the spear in Lawrence's hands had shed.
Really, it was only an eventuality for when Lawrence would finally be dispatched on a long term mission that was meant for another extermination. Yet, with his memory fogged by the haze of battle, the Beastfolk could only smile beneath his facemask in anticipation.
[b]KINGDOM HEARTS/b], Riku [i]LAWRENCE CORNWELL[/i]
played by LAZ who found us by friends
