Joey's a character that's still in action today, currently taking part in the Roleplayer Guild's reboot of our "Elementals" RP saga. In comparison to the two renditions of the character, I will say I played him a bit riskier the first time around, doing much to play up his more roguish personality traits (with some subtle hints of mental instability thrown in for good measure). He's a bit more neutered in the reboot, more of a team player than he used to be. He's also one of the few characters of mine with official art of him (with the other being Jason).

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[b]Name:[/b] Horatio "Joey" Dunst 
[b]Age:[/b] 25
[b]Gender:[/b] Male

[b]Mastery:[/b] Earthshaper
[b]Specialty:[/b] Boulder
[b]Rank:[/b] Mage

[b]Appearance:[/b] 
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[img]http://i.imgur.com/vrtJKUG.png[/img]
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Dirty and disheveled would be among a possible series of words used to describe the boy. He's about 5'11. Tan skin on a mostly skinny figure.  He’s got strong arms and legs, though. Dark brown eyes. An unkempt bush of bouncy, brunette curls sit atop his head. Dirt marks and scars go hand in hand on decorating the boy's body, naturally. A sprinkle of dark freckles are noticeable along the bridge of his nose and cheeks. His crass, cockney accent does well to meld with his street urchin appearance. 

Hands and feet are usually covered in wrappings or some sort. He’s almost fiercely against any form of footwear, actually. Feeling the dust and dirt kick up between his toes is a bit securing to him. His clothes could be considered rags; a short, sleeveless white shirt and thin, brown pants covered in dirt and dust. His hooded shawl could be considered the most unique article of his attire, the knee-length brown cape draping over his shoulders and fastening at his neck. A faded, blocky, zig-zagging pattern lies all along the edge of the tattered drape. 

[b]Equipment:[/b] Usually, if he isn't mindlessly twirling it between his fingers, he has a six inch dagger holstered in his belt. It has a ring near the blade by the hilt, hence all the twirling. Also usually tied along his belt, is a small sack containing the assorted forms of earth he can control. Sand, stone arrowheads, and all sorts of small rocks and pebbles are in this bag. 

[b]Demeanor:[/b] He's a bit of a shady figure. Can keep up in a conversation, but it would be wise to not trust all his words. He's had to lie, cheat, and steal to get to where he is today, and it's what he knows best. Friends were few and far between for the boy, yet he's managed to get by. But, he's reckless also. Foolishly so. His life experiences have made him careless towards the direction his life goes in. Along with the numerous ways he's been used; he knows of his expendable status, he just doesn't care at this point. If you can manage past those wondrous qualities, he’s quite a blast to be around. Jokes and snarks with the best of them. Unhesitant to flirt with any sort of female.

[b]History:[/b] There's been no shortage of orphans inhabiting that island the mages were pushed to so long ago. However, there were the young ones that managed to find the righteous path, to fully embrace their abilities and to fall in line with all the other budding mages at the Academy. Joey never found this path. Not immediately, anyway. His parents, whoever they were, pulled the ol’ “baby in a basket (sans basket)” routine on a human owned monastery not too far from the nearest town, but at least several fortnights away from the nearest Academy. Little Joey was left on the doorstep with nothing more than a soiled diaper with his name hastily scrawled into it. Such an occurrence was a normal routine for the place, so of course he was taken in. 

From there he grew up along the monks and nuns and the other assorted ragamuffins of that monastery. He was quite the quick handed troublemaker out of the kids in his age group, a mischievous little runt that was always ready to plan or play the next prank on one of his unsuspecting elders. No doubt he was the all time best at hide and seek. They were quick to give him his forty lashings whenever they found him, too. Despite this, he was always willing to lend a hand, that is, if he were getting something out of the task.

At some point in his seventeenth year, he overheard news of a public execution being held in town. It was two criminals; a mage couple. Now, he’s heard many stories and comments about mages up to this point. And none of them were good ones. They’ve been called demons, savages, heathens and false prophets. How they could manipulate flame with just a flick of the wrist, snatch the light right out of the sky, and how the earth would tremble at their will. Most of the religious folk thought that they all deserve nothing shorter than burning in hell. The news of the execution practically resulted in joyous celebration among the nuns and monks of the monastery. Naturally, Joey had to go into town to check it out, he wanted to see what these so-called demons looked like! 

You could imagine his disappointment when he actually set eyes on the criminals once he reached the town square. They weren’t nearly as monstrous as he was thinking. Nope, instead they looked like old, tired folk, with faces and bodies covered in bruises and cuts. Lame. He looked on, disinterested. The announcement of their crimes went mostly unheard, but it was something the executioner said that really got Joey’s attention. He announced their names: Mikaela and Rohaan Dunst. “...Dunst?” Joey scoffed. It was an interesting coincidence, that he’d have the same last name as these two. As the two dropped from the gallows, and hung for all the town to see, Joey made his way back to the monastery, not giving much thought to that strange coincidence. 

...That is, until he started making little rocks float by his fingertips one day.  He couldn’t even tell how he was making it happen or why, but he knew he should knock it off before someone noticed and amassed a angry mob. He did pretty well at keeping it under wraps, and even felt he could suppress his newfound abilities. But, he was eighteen pushing nineteen by this point, and felt it was time to move away from the monastery. Though from there, he was so fast to fall in with the wrong crowds. Gangs, thieves, rogues, and other presumably violent ne’er-do-wells. He would do well to use his fists to find his way out of a scrap, rather than his abilities. 

He would skip from town to town, ever so slowly heading in the direction of the Academy. He would swipe small trinkets and currencies from oblivious tourists and unsuspecting lodgers. If he weren’t sleeping outside in the dirt, it would be in the warm bed of a maiden he’d manage to sweet talk. If he'd get lucky, some odd job would fall into his lap during his travels, maybe help move things off a freighter, or play as an extra hand in a shakedown. The more he stole from the humans, the more he began to loathe their ways. The lot of them were selfish, ignorant, and oh so dumb. He realized the hate against mages seemed mostly for no reason, and it angered him a bit. 

He managed to reach the Academy just a few weeks after celebrating his twenty-fifth birthday. He was surprised at how gracefully they let him in, that is, once he showed what little of his abilities he possessed. That was understandable. Living alongside the humans for so long, he could understand why it would be so hard to trust any of them. Yet, he would wonder if anyone would trust [i]him.[/i]
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