@Everyone - Where would you like to start this RP, once we get the final CS? At the point the Lord Steward is asking the company to go to a location or fast forward to said location?
There are two things someone will notice about Marko from the drop. His size, and his scar. Broad shouldered and big boned, the solitary titan that is Marko would stand out in a room even without the assistance of his injuries. He has a long, angular face and a hawkish nose, his expression often set somewhere between dour and tired. His hair is black as soot and rests short cropped and uncared for atop his head. On most days, a light, barely there stubble tickles his chin. Meanwhile, his attire is best described as being something that someone else cared a great deal to pack him off to school with, but that he cares very little for maintaining or making presentable. His good arm, the one not covered in burns and riddled with nerve damage, can most often be seen ending in a black gloved hand. That hand is usually holding a cigarette, when he can get away with it. Always he wears the thick, heavy coat gifted to him by his grandpa. He can’t stand being cold.
He doesn’t talk about the scar much, so neither will we, except to acknowledge that it is there and that it is not very pleasant to look at.
B I O G R A P H Y:
Marko was raised by his grandparents. His dad was never really in the picture and his mom… She really did try. Until he was five he remembers a blur of rotating couches and rotating men. That, and the winter nights spent shivering to sleep in the passenger seat of the car that was his home most of the time. He’s never forgotten that feeling, of the cold seeping into his bones so deep he would scream if not for the fact that his mother was right there, shivering alongside him. If she wouldn’t scream, then why should he? Those days ended when a traffic cop found Marko sitting alone inside that beat up old car, his mother nowhere to be found. He didn’t know where she went, and he never found out. Eventually the system put him in touch with the grandma and grandpa he didn’t know he had, and they took him in without a second thought.
That old couple did everything right. They weren’t millionaire socialites, but they were well off and they put that money to use with Marko. Despite his stunted education early in life, he was actually found to be quite intelligent, and quickly caught up with his peers. They provided access to a child therapist to help him sort through the complicated life he had and set him on a good path. They themselves visited regularly with a counselor to educate themselves on how best to care for this child. Grandma and Grandpa Valdi weren’t going to let Marko go the way of his mother. Perhaps most importantly, they loved him. Plainly and simply.
Yet, the challenges were numerous. He was scared and confused most of his life, but suddenly being safe enough to let those feelings out into the open was a difficult thing to manage. There was a lot of resentment and frustration as he grew up over the fact that his mother was still alive, but that he wasn’t allowed to see her. His dad was alive too, but he didn’t want to see Marko. It’s no surprise he was an angry child, and used petty acts of delinquency to blow off steam. He took up smoking as a freshman in high school and began to run with a group of older boys that got their jollies throwing bricks through car windows and storefronts. That part was fun. Watching his “friends” push around the smaller kids at school? An activity best enjoyed from the sidelines, simmering in discomfort at his own inability to do the right thing.
Things changed when the group began targeting people that Marko actually knew. For Marko, the one positive outlet he had was always writing. Private diary entries, collections of poems, and fantastical narratives covered the pages of his journals. Maybe he didn’t talk much in poetry club, and he certainly never shared any of his own writing, but he was there. Every meeting, for one hour a week, Marko was able to lose himself in the creative thrill of like-minded individuals that spoke their truths without shame. So when this group of nasty, discontent boys began to have run-ins with the people from poetry club, being a bystander wasn’t an option anymore.
He graduated from throwing bricks to throwing punches.
He won some fights, and due to numbers being against him, lost a hell of a lot more. Still. He didn’t mind if it got them off the poetry club’s back. Besides, breaking glass was starting to lose its edge. But these guys? He let his rage out on them. Every black eye he inflicted was deserved. Every split lip he got in return felt equally fair. After all the times he hung back and did nothing? He wore his bruises with a grim kind of pride. Thinking, like a stupid teenager might, that the hurt he endured now somehow made up for the hurt he failed to prevent in the past. It didn’t.
He never hit a point where he felt “atoned”. He just got less discriminate in who he fought and what he fought them over. His adoptive parents tried to reach him, and though he would nod and clench his fists and promise to do better, the anger had a hold of him now. Even his dreams didn’t seem safe. Every night his mind was embroiled in roiling heat so intense Marko swore he’d smell smoke upon waking. Sometimes he wandered through burning forests. Other times he was trapped in a house that had gone up in flames, and too often he would be shivering in a car in the middle of winter, freezing to death until the vehicle would burst into an inferno.
The event that disfigured Marko was less of a climax in a dramatic narrative and more of a full stop at the end of the entire novel. There would be no falling action, no resolution. Life doesn’t work that way. Although, there is a certain amount of ironic flare to the moment itself.
Marko, staring at his bruised reflection in the bathroom mirror, felt feelings bubbling up that had been simmering for months and years. He was sick of feeling guilty. Sick of feeling angry. He missed his mom. He wanted to know why his dad never called. And staring back at him was the face of a young man that apparently only knew how to solve his feelings with violence. Brave enough to fight four people at once but too cowardly to share his poetry. So he punched the mirror. He expected it to shatter. Not to explode.
That summer, spent almost entirely in the hospital, Marko broke down to his grandparents. He came clean to them. About it all. When he shared his strange dreams, that all but confirmed suspicions. His grandparents forgave him, they reassured him, but they were extremely firm with him. Attending the Merryweather Institute was not a matter for debate. Marko understood. He had a long time to sit with himself and think about what kind of person he wanted to be in his life. He was eighteen now. There wasn’t going to be another do-over. Full stop.
P E R S O N A L I T Y:
Marko is fatigued. He takes on the burdens of life with a sort of weary acceptance, as though unable to consider that he ever deserves anything more or less than what he gets. This numbness towards the woes and joys of life does not necessarily mean he is a passive participant, however. His rational mind prevents him from slipping any further than he already has. Though he doesn't see how, this school, at its best, is a real opportunity for Marko to find some way through the miasma he wades through. He tries to keep that in mind whenever the school confiscates his cigarettes.
When interacting with others, it becomes apparent that the dry wit he wields in conversation is the remnant of some far more fiery personality that has long since burnt out of him. While still running the full range of human emotion, there is a restraint to his behavior he didn't used to have. Still, he's not a cold person. There is tenderness and kindness to be found within him. There is a creative young soul that loves poetry and misses his mom and loves his grandparents. That's still him.
A B I L I T I E S / S K I L L S:
While Marko is strong and knows how to fight, these days he’s much more willing to take a punch than throw one. Intellectual pursuits got him through his time in the hospital. Reading and writing were a lifeline to a calmer and more centered version of himself, and while not necessarily practically applicable, to him re-doubling his interest in literature has been a lifesaver. As far as his fire powers go, the most he’s comfortable attempting so far is smoking up without a lighter.
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
Marko is at a major turning point in his life, which is important because I don't want to play as a violent/unstable bully. He still has a lot of growing to do and isn't doing the best but I think that comedy and light are just as important for a character as darkness and drama. I am looking forward to fleshing out Marko within the context of a game and how he bounces off of other characters. Romance is okay with me if it makes sense and develops naturally. Not sure if Marko is anyone's cup of tea though, haha
Appearance: If you were to ask one to recall Caiman's appearance by memory, the lion's share of people would ration you the recollection of a shorter-than-average man clad in a dark palette consisting of black or brown leathers and furs, grey cloths, or perhaps a rare-few other articles of muted blues or greens. Whatever they might recall, they very likely would remember that they'd not seen the Knight Commander void of his armet - lest they were the Steward, his advisors, or perhaps one of some fellow Knight Commanders.
Caiman's appearance without his armet is one that conveys a youth perhaps a touch more green than is really true of him. His face is shaped with soft yet angular features, he has fair, unmarred skin, and possesses short, inky-black hair. In truth, he wears his armet more often than is considered apt due to the tendency of some of his comrades to patently underestimate him for his ostensible youthfulness, much to his chagrin. But Caiman is certainly not incapable. When it comes to physique, Caiman does stand noticeably on the shorter side at 5'6", but possesses a lean musculature and a slender appearance.
He holds himself with a natural, dutiful countenance. When one has the opportunity to see his face, they'll likely see a very neutral visage with watchful, golden-hazel eyes. Ironically, Caiman's features are quite demonstrative when they have cause to be - his brows, eyes, lips, etc. are very expressive when it comes to the rare-few times he experiences particularly strong, or perhaps alien, emotions.
Personality:
Caiman seems to posses an.. oddly fluctuating sense of impersonalness. While he has shown evident loyalty and a large measure of investment in his kingdom and nation, he is, in most circumstances, seemingly very-well emotionally regulated. A neutral, dutiful aura is likely one which even the most Caiman-familiar Knight Commanders have rarely seen him deviate from. It is a feature, among several, that made, or make, him a notable knight - for keeping a cool head at all times is not always an easy task, even for some veterans.
In sooth, this is not to say that Caiman is emotionless, for this is clearly untrue. His impassive visage is not a cold or dry one - he is simply.. not very expressive, in general. In fact, there have been times when Caiman has shown emotions. When his father, Knight Commander Ritter Black, passed, Caiman was one of many men to shed a tear, or several, at his funeral. Further still, he can respond to lesser encouragements as well - Knight Commander Lerkley Polk, a long-time friend of his father, has been known to cause Caiman to crack a small smile, on occasion.
Regardless of the circumstances, Caiman is known as a knight that is utmost emotionally reliable - whether he finds himself stepping through the gore and viscera of a massacre, or blade-to-throat midst his own mortal peril, his level-headedness is something to be sure of.
Aside from how he reacts to the things around him, Caiman has a solid moral compass. Beside his loyalty to his kingdom and the straight-faced comradery he shares with his fellow Knight Commanders, he is one to uphold good and help where he can, even if he has to do a little bad to accomplish his goals. When it comes to how he treats his enemies, enemies of his nation, or ne'er-do-wells in general - he performs unyieldingly, yet humanely. He has, however, been known to handle particularly heinous malefactors with treatment a touch harsher than the norm.
Background:
It'd be truthful to say Caiman was raised to be a knight. Born to be a knight, as his late father would say. Knight Commander Ritter Black was a man who valued honor, virtue, and above all else, family. Even moreso the family that was young Caiman Black, when the birth of the boy caused his wife's passing. It was from his youngest age that Ritter entered Caiman onto the path that would lead him to become a knight - as he wished nothing more than for his son to see the life of luxury and honor that he had made for himself.
The duo resided in the capital of Alveria, Olenta, where Ritter Black served in his duties to the crown as a Knight Commander. As such, it was often that young Caiman found himself cared after by only the best of sitters until an age where he would become a squire, and would be taken under the wing of his father full-time. In truth, his upbringing was rather regular for a boy on the path of knighthood. He developed pretty regularly in his training when it came to the matters of heraldry, chivalry, courtly affairs, etc., but there was a particular shift when it came to the young Caiman's affinity for matters of warfare.
His father spotted in him an irregularly sharp aptitude for swordsmanship, marksmanship, horsemanship, and all other manner of depths of combaterie. Whether it was due to a particular interest in these practices or an exceptionally keen natural inclination, the young squire picked up on techniques very naturally and effectively, and often digested manuals much faster than his father and tutors anticipated. By the time the young lad was approaching the age around which he would start transitioning to knighthood, his progress was well past what any of them would deem acceptable. So much so that his father, who was one of the most trusted Knight-Commanders to the Lord Steward, entered him into knighthood a touch early.
It was from there that Caiman Black quickly made a name for himself ahead of his peers. In his role as a knight, he displayed an unshakeable grip on his usefulness to his kingdom and his ability to improve himself as the highest class of soldier. Even from a place of parity, it was often that Caiman found even accomplished knights seeking his counsel in matters of warfare or swordsmanship, or even seeking rapport with him due to his growing reputation.
All-in-all, Caiman's adult life was just what his father had hoped for him, and much more. It was this pacifying thought that made his father's passing a touch more digestible for Caiman. Ritter Black could, at least, die proud of his son.
The death being some two years ago, it was not terribly long before Caiman Black took his father's place as a Knight Commander - though a rather young one. But, it was in his father's wishes to the Lord Steward and the fellow Commanders to welcome Caiman into that fold - a realm in which he has not disappointed.
Rune Affinity (if applicable): To-be-revealed.
Skills & Abilities: Caiman is a masterful wielder of most types of traditional weapons, be they swords, daggers, mauls, flails, etc. Paramount among his most favored weapons are Spears, Swords, Lucerne Hammers, and Crossbows. He is also a very gifted technical grappler - and fortunately so, for his small stature makes him vulnerable to being pinned. Furthermore, he is an incredible rider. The agility and precision with which he controls and maneuvers his mount is impressive, even for a knight.
When it comes to mental warfare, Caiman is second to none in keeping his head. He's quick-witted and tactically intelligent. In truth, he's not a very inspiring commander when it comes to emotive morale-building, but his mere martial reputation has been enough before, in a pinch.
Aside his martial prowesses, Caiman is pretty ordinary in his skills as a knight, though he remembers the entirety of his training over the years with respectable accuracy.
Additional Details: As an infant, Caiman was plagued with a genetic illness for some weeks, but eventually managed to overcome it. In most-recent months, its return has delivered a shallow turn in his health. For the mostpart he seems alright, but for days at a time has experienced a sickly pallor, accompanied by a fever and cough.
Caiman, whether tending to his knightly duties or not, always carries a sword at his side, as most of status do. Caiman's sword is a pretty average one of roughly 35 inches in blade-length, and can be comfortably wielded in one or two hands. He also carries a Rondel dagger of about 14 inches in length. His favored weapon, though, is a spear measured six feet in total length with a 12 inch, double-edged blade.
Caiman is sidekick to a loveable canine named "Belabog". Most see her as more wolf than acceptable dog, but Caiman seems to have a soft spot for her nonetheless. She seems to respond pretty well to his attempts to train her, and he's confident she could probably be useful as a war hound of some kind, but he is reluctant to utilize her in that capacity.
"Grim-cub" is a, some would say silly, nicknamed bestowed upon him by the older Knight Commander Lerkley Polk, as a way to poke fun at Caiman's usual impersonal, watchful gaze. Much to Caiman's relief, the moniker has caught on with very few.
Caiman picked up the habit of always wearing an armet before he became a Knight Commander, and can't really shake it nowadays, though he truthfully hasn't tried too hard.
@Crusader Lord That is such a simple and elegant premise for a character: rich character with a "gross" power. (Not that fungi are gross to me, I personally love them and welcome their inevitable takeover of the planet)
@LucidRain You request is done~ Added lore for the northern and eastern kingdoms. Let me know if you want more options. There could be another west, across the sea.
Having vague awareness of what is across the Azure Expanse would be interesting even if its just rumors or limited knowledge
[h3] [color=f49ac2]Synopsis[/color] [/h3]
I like telling engaging stories with cool people :)
Collaboration and teamwork are very important to me when telling a story- I could write any genre as long as the group dynamic is healthy.
If you're chill and understand grammar we'll probably get along!
[hr][h3] [color=bc8dbf]Details[/color] [/h3]
[list][*] 23
[*] Male
[*] Filthy American
[*] I like video games
[*] Comics and novels
[*] TTRPGs (mainly D&D and Fate but I'll try anything)
[*] The natural world (especially the ocean)
[*] Poetry
[*] Aspiring author (poor)
[/list]
[hr][h3] [color=#FF7F50]RPs I'm In[/color] [/h3]
[list]
[*][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/194801-hell-on-earth-supernatural-demonic-detectives/ooc]Hell on Earth: Supernatural & Demonic Detectives[/url]
[/list]
Language is the tool I use to connect myself to the world around me and to the people that I care for.
[@POOHEAD189] taught me how to play D&D
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><div class="bb-h3"><font color="#f49ac2">Synopsis</font></div><br>I like telling engaging stories with cool people :)<br><br>Collaboration and teamwork are very important to me when telling a story- I could write any genre as long as the group dynamic is healthy.<br><br>If you're chill and understand grammar we'll probably get along!<br><br><hr class="bb-hr"><div class="bb-h3"><font color="#bc8dbf">Details</font></div><br><ul class="bb-list" style="white-space: normal;"><li>23</li><li>Male</li><li>Filthy American</li><li>I like video games</li><li>Comics and novels</li><li>TTRPGs (mainly D&D and Fate but I'll try anything)</li><li>The natural world (especially the ocean)</li><li>Poetry</li><li>Aspiring author (poor)</li></ul><br><br><hr class="bb-hr"><div class="bb-h3"><font color="#ff7f50">RPs I'm In</font></div><br><ul class="bb-list" style="white-space: normal;"><li><a href="https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/194801-hell-on-earth-supernatural-demonic-detectives/ooc">Hell on Earth: Supernatural & Demonic Detectives</a></li></ul><br><br>Language is the tool I use to connect myself to the world around me and to the people that I care for.<br><a class="bb-mention" href="/users/poohead189">@POOHEAD189</a> taught me how to play D&D <br></div>
Member
Inertia,
Neziul,
Chrys,
Ducksworth
