Dusty

Turn of the Century (A 1900s NRP)

The Cathany Islands

"Fair seas make not skilled sailors."

-National Motto

Official Government Name: The Federation of Cathany Isles

Head of State: High Chancellor Yurvani Romvalas, Sixty One

Capital City: Mal Cavari - Situated on the largest, and westernmost island of Palcoo, bordering the freshwater river of Mal, and circumventing the Cavari bay is the grand city of Mal Cavari. While not the largest, or most prosperous city in all of the Isles, Cathians hold it proudly up as their grand capital. It is the birthplace of the peoples' revolt, and site of the declaration of Cathian independence. The city boasts a vast port and naval yard, along with a great mazelike system of canals making much of the city only traversable by small boat. Elegant bridges connect the offshore construction from the onshore portions, interwoven between a network of drawbridges and stone pathways. Farms, refineries, mines, urban housing and plantations dominate the land based constructions, providing the life blood necessary for the commerce and trade taking place over the water. Cathians would claim that Mal Cavari is the most beautiful city in the world, and hold it up as the prize jewel of Cathany, and a emblem of Cathian supremacy. It is also the port for much of the Cathian fleet.

National Language: Cathish

Basic Demographics: The Cathany Isles is an archipelago of thirty two islands within a one hundred thousand square kilometer stretch of water. Located several hundred kilometers southwest of the mainland these islands sit comfortably in the sunny, semi-tropical waters of the Panapalo Sea. The islands are built up around the base of a vast collection of dormant volcanos resting both above and below sea level. While there are many islands most are too small or too barren to thrive on, and only eleven of the largest, and most fertile of them are notably inhabited, though Cathians claim all thirty two as their own. The islands often operate largely independent of each other due to the miles of water separating them, though the national senate and the house of eleven chancellors meet and coordinate to the best of their ability on Palcoo. Strong ties to their home islands make the individual Cathian a greater supporter of their birthplace, rather then then Cathian state overall, causing conflict and resistance to the capital to be a somewhat common occurrence. Although no actual violence has occurred yet, many times the powerful Palcoo fleet, and additional troops have been sent to quell any stirring of true rebellion by shows of force. Political strife, murder, and corruption is all to common and the ruling class is in a constant battle for control. Currently the Palcoo Island is unparalleled in both military and political power, and holds iron fisted sway over all the other isles.

The majority of Cathians are indigenous peoples to the islands. They are of copper skin, dark complexion and brown hair. Intermingled into their cities and population are the colonists of other nations settled there over the past hundred years and it is not uncommon to see a black, or fair haired individual amongst a crowd. They are a proud and cynical people, albeit intrepid, and adventurous. They are not known for giving in or being easily fooled. The national religion is monocratic, the worship of the god Cath, the volcanic deity that crafted the world with his fiery rage and temper. Other religions also exist despite an attempt by the Cath sect to stomp them out as heretical. The attempt was abandoned when the anger of hundreds of diverse peoples being persecuted for their cultural beliefs brought with them from their ancestral homelands reached a boiling point. Eventually the Cathians settled upon a compromise and allowed for religious and other cultural practices to continue quietly out of sight.

---

I. Nation
- Population: 2
- Stability: 1
- Landmass: 1
- Demographics: 1
- Civilian Industry: 4
- Armaments Industry: 2
- Infrastructure: 3
- Naval Industry: 5

II. Military:
- Army Size: 2
- Army Training: 4
- Army Technology: 3

- Navy Size: 6
- Navy Training: 6
- Navy Technology: 5

III. Economics:
- Rare Resources: 6
- Common Resources: 3
- Luxury Resources: 5
- Bureaucracy: 4

Turn of the Century (A 1900s NRP)

Ooh, the Cathians have a competitor on the high seas. @mupersan

Turn of the Century (A 1900s NRP)

Why is Chaegon significantly larger on the map then Mille-Sessau when Sessau has a landmass of 4, and Chaegon has a landmass of 3?

Turn of the Century (A 1900s NRP)

I'm highly intrigued, here's my nation sheet for review.

The Cathany Islands

"Fair seas make not skilled sailors."

-National Motto

Official Government Name: The Cathany Isles Federation

Head of State: High Chancellor Yurvani Romvalas, Sixty One

Capital City: Mal Cavari - Situated on the largest, and westernmost island of Palcoo, bordering the freshwater river of Mal, and circumventing the Cavari bay is the grand city of Mal Cavari. While not the largest, or most prosperous city in all of the Cathany Isles Cathians hold it as their capital as the birthplace of the people's revolt, and the declaration of Cathian independence from foreign powers. The city boasts a vast port and naval yard, along with a great mazelike highway of canals and moats making much of the city only traversable by small boat. Elegant bridges connect the offshore construction and inner city from the onshore portions. Farms, refineries, mines, urban housing and plantations dominate the land based constructions, providing the life blood for the commerce and trade taking place over the water. Cathians would claim that Mal Cavari is the most beautiful city in the world, and hold it up as the prize jewel of Cathany, and a emblem of Cathian supremacy.

National Language: Cathanese

Basic Demographics: The Cathany Isles is an archipelago of thirty two separate islands within a one hundred thousand square kilometer stretch of water. Located several hundred kilometers southwest of the mainland these islands sit comfortably in the sunny, semi-tropical waters of the Panapalo Sea. The islands are built up around the base of a vast collection of dormant volcanos resting both above and below sea level. While there are many islands most are too small or too barren to thrive on, and only eleven of the largest, and most fertile of them are notably inhabited, though Cathians claim all thirty two as their own. The islands often operate largely independent of each other due to the miles of water separating them, though the national government and the house of eleven representative chancellors meet and coordinate running the islands to the best of their ability on Palcoo, in the city of Mal Cavari. Strong ties to their home islands make the individual Cathian a greater supporter of their birthplace, rather then then one of Cathian state overall, causing conflict and resistance to the capital to be a somewhat common occurrence. Although no actual violence has occurred yet, many times the powerful Palcoo fleet, and additional troops have been sent to quell any stirrings of true rebellion by shows of force. Political strife, murder, and corruption is all to common and the ruling class is in a constant battle for control. Currently the Palcoo Island is unparalleled in both military and political power, and holds iron fisted sway over all the other isles.

The majority of Cathians are indigenous peoples to the islands. They are of copper skin, dark complexion and brown hair. Intermingled into their cities and population are the colonists of other nations settled there over the past hundred years and it is not uncommon to see a black, or fair haired individual amongst a crowd. They are a proud and cynical people, albeit intrepid, and adventurous. They are not known for giving in or being easily fooled, as well as being surprisingly diplomatically inclined. They are tough folk, and yet still prefer brains over brawn. Their hierarchal, male dominated society respects merit and effort, and generally avoids nepotism on a societal level. Many Cathians are granted the birthright and opportunity to make their fortune as they wish, slowly clawing their way to the top or remaining economically stagnate in the middle or bottom class. The outcome largely depends upon the individual involved. The national religion is monocratic in nature, the worship of the god Cath, a volcanic deity that crafted the world with his fiery rage and temper. Other religions also exist despite an attempt by the Cath sect to stomp them out as heretical. The attempt was abandoned when the anger of hundreds of diverse peoples being persecuted for their cultural beliefs brought with them from their ancestral homelands reached a boiling point. Eventually the Cathians settled upon a compromise and allowed for religious and other cultural practices to continue quietly out of sight.

--------------------------------------------------

I. Nation
- Population: 1
- Stability: 2
- Landmass: 1
- Demographics: 1
- Civilian Industry: 4
- Armaments Industry: 2
- Infrastructure: 3
- Naval Industry: 5

II. Military:
- Army Size: 2
- Army Training: 4
- Army Technology: 3
- Navy Size: 6
- Navy Training: 6
- Navy Technology: 5

III. Economics:
- Rare Resources: 6
- Common Resources: 3
- Luxury Resources: 5
- Bureaucracy: 4

Miraculous America

@Rockin Strings That was part of it yeah. I was also really busy leading up to it too.

Something Beyond The Abyss, a Lovecraftian Horror RP.

A cold dread hung over the docile fishing village, infecting everything it touched, right down to the stray hounds and cats that crept past, their mangy tails tucked beneath their legs in perpetual fear. Perhaps only a cold battlefield, littered with the dead and wreathed in the stench of powder and blood could compare to the general despair that infested this place. Whether it was the poor mood, grim weather, or something far more sinister or even a combination of all three Edward B. O’Daily could not quite say. Whatever it was, he didn’t like it one bit and would prefer to find the answers he sought and leave post haste back to England. Edward wasn’t his usual self, in so far as his appearance that is. Dressed in a pair of matching black trousers and coat, with a white undershirt and an ebony cane and top hat, Edward looked for all the world a mere English gentleman. Only his saber, its red tassel and gilded sheath belted to his waist betrayed his masquerade, marking clearly him as a military man.

Releasing a waft of cigar smoke, thumping his cane, and grumbling Edward looked towards his two companions who leaned up against the porch railing alongside him, puffing on cigars and contemplating the quiet village they’d arrived in only hours before. The first was a wizened man, five or six years Edward’s senior. He was less fashionably dressed than his counterpart, his brown trousers and cream colored shirt being slightly threadbare and worn. Nevertheless he appeared capable, and Edward looked to him with great respect. He was Sergeant Thomas McKnowles, a clever and tough individual and one of the few men who believed Edward’s tales of monsters and magic, seeing as he’d lived through them as well. The second man was far younger, barely seventeen summers old, with slick black hair and dark eyes. He was a local, and one of the few that could speak some English. Edward and McKnowles had discovered him by chance several hours before on the docks, and had been quick to hire his services as a guide and interpreter. The lad, having to choose between doing backbreaking dock work, or accompany two strange and interesting foreigners for excellent pay had been quick to abandon his former employer. Edward wasn’t sure what to make of him, so far they’d discovered only his name, ‘Romblan’ and knowledge that he’d had a Scottish mother, which explained his knowledge of the English tongue, and that he’d been living here for most of his life. Whatever his story or circumstance Edward was glad they’d found him as it made life so much easier, especially when Edward was bartering the price of their little house they’d rented.

“I say, I say.” Edward gruffed, pounding his cane onto the wooden floor boards to create a hollow beat. “This place is drearier then the foggy high moors on hallows eve night. Let us abandon this hovel and locate ourselves somewhere we can find cheerful company and good drink to spend the evening. Lest I, and in turn we, perish from sheer boredom and misery.”

“I concur sir.” The good sergeant said, straightening up and adjusting his bowlers’ hat on his head. “Romblan sonny, where’s th’ nearest pub?”

“Nein. We don’ got one here.” The boy claimed, his accent an odd mix of Scottish and harsh German. “Not unless ye want pisswater an’ grog. Inn’t worth th’ walk, not fer yew gentlemanly folk; no siree.”

“We’ve faced worse, let me assure you lad.” Edward scoffed patting Romblan upon the shoulder. “Waste not the disbanded time as they say, and better to drink a horse’s piss then eat the dust of the road and all that lark.”

The boy’s face screwed up and he appeared very confused. “No disrespect meant sir, but I would much rather ‘ave dust in me mouth then a horse’s piss. That sounds nasty, an’ makes no rightful sense.”

The sergeant laughed and Edward chuckled and they moved off, following Romblan’s lead towards this supposed, seedy tavern he knew of. Along their journey as they drew close to the docks Edward raised a hand, halting the other two and bidding them remain still. Narrowing his eyes and strode purposely forward, staring down the street with rapt curiosity. Gesturing for the sergeant and interpreter to join him Edward pointed towards the Warf, where a single man seemed to have gone mad. Poking at the water and muttering something unintelligible.

“What does he say Romblan?” Edward asked, resting a steady hand upon his saber. “Should we be concerned for his health, or ours?”

“He’s drunk milords.” Romblan explained, to the best of his ability. “He’s demanding the water to leave him be.”

"He does not sound it.” Edward mused, stroking his chin. “The fool’s words are loud but not slurred, and his movements are precise. I daresay he is terrified of something, which is why I stand ready. A mad man with terror at his heels can inflict damage to opposition or themselves like no other.”

“Aye, seen it a few times after a battle.” McKnowles agreed, his brow furrowing. “Men break mentally, and they cannot be stopped by conventional means.” He patted the stowed dueling pistol at his hip and Romblan shivered at this notion, turning his gaze away from the raving man.

“Hopefully he won’t be no problem sirs, shall we move on?”

“Nay, he is in distress. Should he inflict harm upon someone less capable or injure himself due to his state the blood might very well be on our hands for doing naught. Come Romblan, you shall translate and we will find this man his home and bed. Romblan did not seem pleased with this plan but he followed Edward’s assured steps nonetheless.

Edward approached the man with confidence, one hand resting upon his saber hilt the other raised in greeting. When the man made no move to recognize their approach and he enlisted another tactic, bidding the man a pleasant evening. “Hello there mister, a dreary but satisfactory evening is it not? Stand easy we wish only to talk.”

Romblan stammered out the translation, to the best of his ability, mumbling a quick explanation to this odd formality all of which he feared flew clear over the man’s head. In the end he spoke nearly thirty words to Edward’s original seventeen.

“Are you certain that is what I said?” Edward inquired looking fairly flabbergasted. “I say, I didn’t realize this language was so complex. I suppose I should simplify my sentences for convenience sake, lest we remain in conversation for many hours.”

Romblan winced. “Eh, I suppose, just about accurate as could be sir.”

Miraculous America

School dragged by at an all-time slow for Tonya. Her head wasn’t in the game, what with her thoughts clouded by memories of yesterday’s exploits and her interaction with Eddie. It didn’t help that the entire class’s workload was being doubled, an unwelcome side effect from the upcoming exams. She groaned aloud when the teacher returned her math homework, a low letter grade jarring her from her thoughts. How was she going to explain that to her father? She couldn’t rightly make the excuse that she’d been fighting a supervillain and had been too fatigued to focus on the equations. The teacher seemed to be about to share a few stern words with Tonya over her scores when Tonya’s phone began to buzz angrily in her pocket.

“Did you not switch your phone off?” The teacher demanded, holding out her hand. “I’ll be taking that.”

Crossly Tonya reached down to take her phone from her pocket when something slithered on the base of her neck, causing her to tense up. A tiny hushed voice tickled her ear. “Miss Tabbet, a great urgency must be attended to. Your companions need you.”


“Not now Ossar.” Tonya hissed back.

“What was that Miss Tabbet?” The teacher snapped. “Don’t get snippety with me young lady.”

“Time is of the essence sweet daughter of Tabbet.” The snake kwami insisted. “Our mission resides before all else.”


“Shush!”

“What did you just say to me!?”

“Nothing ma’am.” Tonya grumbled, producing her phone and handing it over. Now the entire class was watching and listening. Tonya’s face burned and she swept back her hair trying to sweep Ossar back into her shirt but only succeeding in appearing incredibly sassy. The teacher was looking livid now, and opened her mouth to deliver a withering scolding, meanwhile Ossar crept in close to Tonya’s ears once more.

“Miss Tonya, I must insist we are punctual.”


“SHUT UP!”

“Miss Tabbet!” The teacher roared, fire and brimstone flashing in her eyes. “I have had quite enough of this attitude, you may excuse yourself from my classroom at once and wait outside the Principal’s Office. I daresay your family will be hearing about this, in full detail!”

Sour faced Tonya shoved her school books away marching from the classroom much the same way she’d entered. Angry and embarrassed and the eyes of all her classmates following her as she strode purposely from the room, her bag slung over one shoulder. Storming down the hall Tonya took the all too familiar route down to the office, giving the door a heavy mournful knock when she finally reached it.

Nobody answered.

Tonya tried again, the end result comparable. He must be off doing something else she decided, flopping down in one of the hard, uncomfortable plastic chairs lined up outside. Crossing her arms Tonya fumed for a moment over the unfairness of it all when a movement at the base of her neck reminded her of Ossar. Reaching back Tonya snatched the serpent kwami, sweeping him around to face her. He coiled in her hand, staring up at her his dark eyes large and purposeful.

“Well done in escaping the confines of the school so high. We must act at once. Swiftly utterance the words and let us make haste and bring welcome aid to our companions and this city.”


“What? No, I can’t.” Tonya dropped her hand, letting the snake levitate under his own power. “You got me in trouble and now I have to stay here, or I’ll get into even more trouble.” Tonya closed her eyes and clenched her jaw just thinking about the repercussions to come. “My dad is going to kill me. This is the third time this year, and I’ve never even heard of someone telling the teacher to shut up. They won’t believe me if I told them it was directed towards the stupid little magic snake that wouldn’t stay quiet. I’ll be in detention for years!”


To his credit the kwami seemed deeply grieved by this proclamation and he lowered his brightly colored head in shame. “Alas, I knew not. Please accept my most humble apologies sweet daughter of Tabbet.”

The silence between them grew long and unbroken. Tonya drooped her head, miserable, brooding over what she’d say, to the principle, her father, the teacher when she would have to inevitably apologize for her rudeness, perhaps even in front of the entire class. A single tear formed under her eyes and Tonya moved to brush them away, furious with herself to so easily be driven to tears at something to selfish and pathetic. Something brushed against her forehead and Tonya looked up, surprised to see Ossar so close, his elongated muzzle pressed against her brow in a serpents kiss. With shocking strength the tiny kwami pressed hard, raising her head until it was high and proud.

“Weep not brave one.” Ossar hushed. “Thou are young, too young to be given this responsibility but banish your fear. Your father seems a kind, wise man who will find forgiveness in his heart and never resort to violence, no matter your transgressions. We must instead remain focused upon the greater good, as even the most nobles paths are wrought with treacherous choices. I see now that you must be torn asunder by good intentions, but you have been given responsibility beyond that of all others. To forsake it is comparable to forsaking a holy vow. Suffering is inadequate to selflessness.”

“Are you saying I have to risk getting into even more trouble with my life here, to go help the other heroes?” Tonya asked almost accusingly, trying to unravel the serpent’s words.

“In the end I can only advise, the choice is yours.” Ossar assured. “I shall respect that which you choose.”


Tonya dwelt on this for a long time, running her fingers through her hair as she considered all the options available. It seemed wrong to her, to betray the trust of her father and her betters so massively and still have it be the right thing to do. And yet people could be in danger, and their lives might even now be saved if she acted. “Has everyone else gone to help?” She inquired at last.

“I cannot say for sure, other than the hero Talon who wished to communicate to everyone something of great importance.”


Grimacing Tonya glanced back at the Principal’s door, her decision made. “Alright, alright. I just have to make it back before he does. Easy. Alright, here we go, ‘ STRIPES ALIGN .’” In a blinding flash Ossar became fused within the Miraculous and the snakeish armor formed across Tonya’s body changing her identity into the daring superhero Serpentine. Unlatching one of her battle fans from her utility belt and pressing a button located on its haft Serpentine waited for the screen to appear. A moment later spectral images of the other heroes’ materialized. “Sorry if I’m a bit late.” She told them, sprinting for the nearest exit. “I’ll be there in a moment. What’s happening by the way? Because it better be really, really important.”

Something Beyond The Abyss, a Lovecraftian Horror RP.

Captain Edward B. O'Daily

Commander in the 39th Regiment of Foot

Name: Captain Edward Burmish O’Daily

Sex: Male

Occupation: Commander in the 39th Regiment of Foot, British Expeditionary

Height: 5’8”

Weight: 155lbs


Eldritch Encounters: His first and only encounter was a vicious and bloody event involving a number of cultist men and a jungle Gug. Edward and his soldiers attempted to seize control of an ancient ritual site in the depths of India’s jungles, which unbeknownst to them was fortified by the entity and several armed men. The monster lay in wait for any such assault and upon its attack the company was put to rout, but not before receiving high casualties, including the loss of Edward’s late elder brother Major O’Daily.

Traits:

• Learned – Being an advent reader Edward is well versed in all manner of classical and current works. He is well educated, and as such very intelligent, even amongst his peers in the British Officer Corps.
• Gentlemanly – Proper etiquette, disciple, and conduct is key to thriving in the current European political environment. Raised within a well to do family Edward was taught thoroughly in all things to do with protocol. It would be unbecoming of a young officer for this to not be so.
• Intrepid – A proper and proud Irishman Captain O’Daily is not stirred to terror easily. Raised by his father to possess a stiff upper lip in all situations Edward isn’t apt to complain or be afraid no matter the circumstance.
• Prodigy Although not perfect by any means, Captain O’Daily is aspiring field officer, and well versed in his craft. He retains an innate understanding of all things military from strategy to logistics, and can fight by blade, fist, and firearm with the best of the enlisted men placed under him.

Equipment: A man of Spartan needs Edward carries very little on his person, limiting it to his military uniform and saber, a journal with an inkwell and pen, and an engraved silver spyglass.

Order: No, At least not yet.

Background:

• 1805 Edward was born in London into the O’Daily family. He spent his early life going between Ireland and England and Portugal and attending all the fine schools located in-between.
• 1821 Edward was officially commissioned into the Royal Army as a Junior Officer, where he joined the 19th training regiment.
• 1825 Edward was given a small command within the 39th Regiment of Foot, Expeditionary and was deployed to Eastern India to assist with the military interests of the British Empire abroad. He was to be placed directly under the command of his elder brother within the 39th.
• 1828 Edward was granted the rank of Captain, and was recognized for several years of dedicated service.
• 1830 During a fateful mission in the Indian jungles Edward and a mere handful of his men staggered back into the city. They were in a state of shock, covered in wounds and bearing witness to the slaughter of a full company of British Expeditionary Soldiers including the late Major O’Daily. All at the hands of some unknown wanton beast, and a horde of vile miscreants who fought alongside it.
• 1831 Edward returns home to Ireland, placed on leave from military service for the time being due to his “ravings”. There he joins forces with a clever sergeant who survived the encounter alongside him. Together they discover there might be some answers to be found in Bohemia...

Personality:
- Curious
- Daring
- Proud
- Arrogant
- Cunning

Something Beyond The Abyss, a Lovecraftian Horror RP.

Captain Edward B. O'Daily

Commander in the 39th Regiment of Foot

Name: Captain Edward Burmish O’Daily

Sex: Male

Occupation: Commander in the 39th Regiment of Foot, British Expeditionary

Height: 5’8”

Weight: 155lbs


Eldritch Encounters: His first and only encounter was a vicious and bloody event involving a number of cultist men and a jungle Gug. Edward and his soldiers attempted to seize control of an ancient ritual site in the depths of India’s jungles, which unbeknownst to them was fortified by the entity and several armed men. The monster lay in wait for any such assault and upon its attack the company was put to rout, but not before receiving high casualties, including the loss of Edward’s late elder brother Major O’Daily.

Traits:

• Learned – Being an advent reader Edward is well versed in all manner of classical and current works. He is well educated, and as such very intelligent, even amongst his peers in the British Officer Corps.
• Gentlemanly – Proper etiquette, disciple, and conduct is key to thriving in the current European political environment. Raised within a well to do family Edward was taught thoroughly in all things to do with protocol. It would be unbecoming of a young officer for this to not be so.
• Intrepid – A proper and proud Irishman Captain O’Daily is not stirred to terror easily. Raised by his father to possess a stiff upper lip in all situations Edward isn’t apt to complain or be afraid no matter the circumstance.
• Prodigy Although not perfect by any means, Captain O’Daily is aspiring field officer, and well versed in his craft. He retains an innate understanding of all things military from strategy to logistics, and can fight by blade, fist, and firearm with the best of the enlisted men placed under him.

Equipment: A man of Spartan needs Edward carries very little on his person, limiting it to his military uniform and saber, a journal with an inkwell and pen, and an engraved silver spyglass.

Order: No, At least not yet.

Background:

• 1805 Edward was born in London into the O’Daily family. He spent his early life going between Ireland and England and Portugal and attending all the fine schools located in-between.
• 1821 Edward was officially commissioned into the Royal Army as a Junior Officer, where he joined the 19th training regiment.
• 1825 Edward was given a small command within the 39th Regiment of Foot, Expeditionary and was deployed to Eastern India to assist with the military interests of the British Empire abroad. He was to be placed directly under the command of his elder brother within the 39th.
• 1828 Edward was granted the rank of Captain, and was recognized for several years of dedicated service.
• 1830 During a fateful mission in the Indian jungles Edward and a mere handful of his men staggered back into the city. They were in a state of shock, covered in wounds and bearing witness to the slaughter of a full company of British Expeditionary Soldiers including the late Major O’Daily. All at the hands of some unknown wanton beast, and a horde of vile miscreants who fought alongside it.
• 1831 Edward returns home to Ireland, placed on leave from military service for the time being due to his “ravings”. There he joins forces with a clever sergeant who survived the encounter alongside him. Together they discover there might be some answers to be found in Bohemia...

Personality:
- Curious
- Daring
- Proud
- Arrogant
- Cunning

Hidden In the Woods

Seeing as you've already got three others interested, I'll express my own interest as a reservist option. I had a character idea that was a breakdown of the typical "perpetually sick - nerdy kid" from atypical horror stories. Essentially he'd be the one with asthma that strikes at terrible times, an overprotective mother whose only just letting him out of her sight or the sight of a trustworthy guardian overnight, and the aspiration to become an Eagle Scout.

He'd be fifteen, blonde haired blue eyed and determined to be "cool" like the rest of his friends, (whether they be actually cool or not) and possess a plethora semi-useless knowhow in regards to tying knots, programing computers, and identifying all manner of trees and plants and animals.

Anyway that's my very basic pitch, if you need a final slot filled I'll be subscribed and willing.