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Aphelion said
: Lucian Dios Winterfield: 17: Blessed Human: Servant of Gabriel: -Ice Make (He's been blessed with the ability to create ice from the water vapors in the air, which he then uses to create objects out of ice. These objects vary from the ability to create ice along floors, ice walls, ice shields, ice javelins, the possibilities are only limited by his imaginings and reaction times.)-He's an all-around fighter, mastering in no particular field but having the knowledge and flexibility to get by in varied situations. He will typically use the environment to his advantage.:His earliest memories include her face, a face so alike his that he sometimes wondered growing up, "Was she real?" He knew she was precious, if she were. Something about her was dazzling and mysterious to him, and he managed to feel lonely every time he thought of that distant memory. Every time he began to lament, he took up easel and brush and would paint portraits of what he remembered. Ice-blue eyes, so unique in their coloration, snow white hair to mirror his own, her slightly cocked smile beneath her small, pretty nose. As the years came and went, his mind's eye grew ever more cloudy. His paintings, starting with the most rudimentary scribbles he had as a young child, and finishing with his most recent works, were the only solid things he had to prove that she exist.His life was a blur for a good while, he supposed he may have been in shock for a portion of his childhood. He vaguely remembered the smell of baked goods and the sound of noisy patrons. Perhaps he lived in an inn as a child? All he could clearly remember was delicious bread and a quaint park where he would wile away his time drawing face with charcoal on the pavement, and the calming sounds of a nearby babbling brook.His memories began to solidify when his mother found them refuge within the estate of an angel named Lord Ambrus. He remembered whisperings and side-ways glances from many of the people living there. For months, possibly years, those damned whisperings were an occurrence in his life. Why did they look at him like that? His mother had found somebody who would love and take care of her. She had found him a father, as well. Why should they be ashamed of wanting normalcy in their lives?Lucian knew very clearly where his station lay as he experienced life under the guidance of his "father", Lord Ambrus. His mother had given full reign to her husband, and the angel took to flight with the power of it. Lucian was tutored and lectured, trained and sparred, tired and bruised. He was being crafted into the perfect servant, one who would be devoutly obedient as well as saturated in the combative arts. Lord Ambrus took it upon himself to Bless Lucian during his training, so as to carefully sculpt his adopted son's use of his Ice-Make powers. His only solace during these hard years were his paintings.His mother was drunk on love with her husband, she thought that whatever her "Lord" wanted was for the best. She very nearly packed Lucian's bags herself when she heard that her son had been accepted into the servantry of the Princess of Gabriel at the young age of eleven. Lucian would have done anything to escape the overbearance of Lord Ambrus, though he dared not tell his mother that. Her face as he left was devastating to Lucian. She had managed to quirk her lips into a quivering smile while tears streamed from her icy blue eyes as she wished him well. Lucian had forgotten that she loved too. His time in servitude to Princess Aninesse was something quite unlike his life thus far. He found her attitude charming, and more than once the Princess had stopped the older servants from trying to play pranks on him. Knowing that he probably could have handled them easily didn't change the fact of Princess Ani's efforts on the behalf of him, a simple servant. Living there gave him more sense of freedom than he had, had ever since he was a young child, playing with charcoal on the pavement, and a feeling of accomplishment to see Princess Ani grow into a beautiful young woman - but still, he felt as if he were living with a phantom-limb. Something, was missing. His paintings of the girl so similar to him grew more detailed through the years, and more splendorous. He would imagine what she may look like now, slightly shorter than himself he imagined, with long flowing hair to contrast his shorter. That is, if she were real.It was during his sixteenth year that he found her, though perhaps not the way he had imagined or hoped for. During a sunset hued in soft golds and vibrant reds she appeared on the crenelation of the castle walls, a figure shadowed deftly by the setting sun. He had only managed to see her as he painted that beautiful sunset on canvas from one of the many public balconies. His trained instincts took over and he went to meet the suspicious intruder, but what he found was shocking. The same icy blue eyes, her snow white hair streaming behind her as she lunged back in forth in fierce combat with him. His body had taken control while his mind raced a thousand miles a second. The details of their battle were locked so clearly in his memories, though he didn't understand how they came to a point where they had both stopped to recognize the other for what they were:Somehow, miraculously, Lucian had been just as important to Luxus as she was to him. She decided to live with him in Gabriel, and his paintings have only grown more magnificent since. Though he may not know her entirely yet, he is willing to commit everything she shares securely in his memories.From his ironed and wrinkle-free shirts, down to his well polished dress shoes, Lucian's image is immaculate. He tends to stand with a very precise, straight-backed posture, and finds it hard to slouch. He is more of an introvert than an extrovert, though he will rise to any occasion that requires his attention.
Accepted, I love the background (but I want to know atleast her name and her story if she is going to be a main character).