Post by england on Sept 9, 2012 16:15:47 GMT -5
Arthur Percival Kirkland
Name:[/font][/size][/b][/u] Arthur Kirkland [/font]
Nickname:[/font][/size][/b][/u] Call him “Eyebrows” and there will be consequences. He's not one for putting up with nicknames, whatever they may be. [/font]
Nationality:[/font][/size][/b][/u] Medius-born, currently living in Pariter [England][/font]
Gender:[/font][/size][/b][/u] Male[/font]
Age:[/font][/size][/b][/u] 23[/font]
Social Rank:[/font][/size][/b][/u] Nobility[/font]
Occupation:[/font][/size][/b][/u] Rook[/font]
Hair Color:[/font][/size][/b][/u] A dirty, ashen shade of blonde. His hair is often unkempt; the short strands refuse to flatten. Of course, it might not be so disheveled if he would actually attempt to fix it, but that’s beside the point.[/font]
Eye Color:[/font][/size][/b][/u] Green[/font]
Weight:[/font][/size][/b][/u] 147 pounds (about 66 kilos)[/font]
Height:[/font][/size][/b][/u] 5 foot 9 inches (175 cm)[/font]
Special Features:[/font][/size][/b][/u] His eyebrows are much thicker than normal, and a tad darker than the color of his hair. He isn’t self-conscious about this fact, necessarily, but will still respond sternly to any observations (or taunts) regarding the “caterpillars” on his forehead.[/font]
Likes:[/font][/size][/b][/u]
-Cabaret dancers.
...Well, not much to say about that.
[/ul][/color][/font]
Dislikes:[/font][/size][/b][/u]
Strengths:[/font][/size][/b][/u]
Weaknesses:[/font][/size][/b][/u]
Dreams:[/font][/size][/b][/u]
Oh, how Arthur loathes that man. Since the two had met, a limitless amount of disgust was subtly expressed through carefully crafted words and all-too-strained movements. In fact, even if his goal was never reached, Arthur would still be satisfied just to have the thick-headed king kneeling before him, sword at his throat, begging for mercy.
None would be supplied, of course.
He has kept all of these thoughts carefully hidden. Other than a few snide remarks here and there, no one would have evidence to back up any possible suspicions. And even if he could not be a king himself, then he would settle for having the royalty listen to reason. Over the years (while he studied to become a Rook), Arthur quickly pinpointed the faults of each kingdom’s systems and created ideas to better them. All he’d need was enough people to support him, and then maybe he would make a mark in history as a man of intelligence. Either way, he strives to become world-renown for his abilities.
-His other dream is a much more mundane and simple one. Though he often refers to his lifestyle as “splendid isolation”, it’s fair to say that from time to time, Arthur does long for companionship. However, he’s yet to find a suitable candidate (mainly due to the fact that his standards are set much too high). Yes, he has had experience and dabbled in relations with others, he has never “fallen in love”, precisely. He would like to, very much. Settling down and raising a family are daydreams that he’s almost always carried.[/ul][/color][/font]
Fears:[/font][/size][/b][/u]
Personality:[/font][/size][/b][/u] To start off with, Arthur is not the ideal type of person that others would flock to. And most of the time, he can hardly blame them. He’s rarely ever social, willingly cooperative, modest, kind, tolerant, and overall...well, to put it bluntly, happy. More than anything, he is overwhelmingly cynical, stern, and opinionated in nature. And if that weren’t enough, he has very high standards when it comes to trusting others as well. That they are understanding without condescension; empathetic but do not force empathy on others; neither obnoxious nor a wallflower; kind without exaggeration; strong but not boastful; and lastly, aware of what’s appropriate in which situation. These are all qualities that Arthur seeks when determining whether a person is worthwhile to befriend. Unfortunately, people like that are few and far between, and the rest of the lot are awfully irritating.
But this isn't to say that he's incapable of a positive attitude. When determined, Arthur can be pleasant and charming (though it's hardly ever genuine). In fact, it's surprising how his entire attitude can change depending on the gender of whom he's addressing. He was raised as a part of a polite, respectful family; a lot of that respect being aimed towards women. As his grandfather had put it: "If a man's bothering ya, sock the damn git in the face. But if it's a lady, you'd better back off, understand?"
It was never fully explained to him why, but Arthur carefully followed that rule, and still does to this day. So much, in fact, it's a part of his subconscious - he can't help it. Quite simply, a woman could walk all over him, be unnervingly frustrating, even make unwanted advances, and he'd still be courteous; but if a man so much as yelled at him, they wouldn't be so lucky.
It may not seem like it at first glance, but Arthur excels in communication skills. He doesn't necessarily enjoy these things, but when he started to present ideas for battle and give motivational lectures to the troops, he found that they were very easy tasks. He has quite a way with words - Arthur could persuade any unsuspecting bloke into a plan with no problem. Well...almost anyone.
Due to the way he was raised, Arthur is very unused to being complimented. If someone were to praise him, he would first be surprised, then quickly assume that either they pity him or were being sarcastic. This is not to say that he's modest - when he's aware that he's good at something, he is quick to brag or compete with anyone who says otherwise.
[/font]
History:[/font][/size][/b][/u] A couple of decades ago, it had started with a burning love between two citizens of Medius. A strong bond between a man and a woman, madly in love with each other. However, in midst of their happy life together, the idea of raising a child hadn't ever occurred. Arthur was what they called their "gift from above"...but, plainly speaking, he had been nothing more than an accident.
Though the two adults were ill-prepared, they decided to raise their newborn regardless. It became a massive struggle for the both of them, but due to their stubbornness, they both continued at it. As soon as their child could walk and talk, they were relieved, assuming that the toughest part was over. After that point, they gradually became more and more inconsiderate when taking care of Arthur. If he left the house at any point, they wouldn't be worried in the least; only glad upon his return.
Luckily for the boy, their family took frequent trips to Pariter to visit his grandparents. They turned out to be very kind and intelligent people, certainly able to treat a young child with love. He adored going to visit their home, and, as he started to grow older, detested his house more and more. Arthur took to lashing out at his parents in obvious ways: disobeyed any rare orders they gave him, stayed out for longer periods of time, and argued against any opinions that they made. Anything to get a rise out of them. But his parents didn’t enjoy correcting mistakes, as their son did. They were much more used to ignoring things that they didn’t like, and kept silent as their son rebelled. Eventually, his father suggested that he move in with his grandparents in Pariter, hoping that it would rid him of his foul mood.
And thankfully, it did. For as he learned whilst living with them his grandparents were much more enjoyable company - his grandmother being attentive and open-minded, while his grandfather was assertive and opinionated. They shaped the basis of his attitude.
In current times, he's obviously moved out and into the castle, but he always visits his Paritian family when he can. (And as for his parents...he hasn't seen them for quite a long time.) [/font]
Additional Information:[/font][/size][/b][/u] While out in his home on the front, Arthur must cook for himself; and though he doesn't realize it, his own cooking is near inedible. He suffers from almost chronic food poisoning, and is therefore not in the best health (much more lean than he'd like to be). It's also for this reason that he's amazed when tasting the food of the castle. (He's immediately more in favor of people that can cook.) [/font]
Roleplay Sample:[/font][/size][/b][/u] It was a day like any other. He woke up past dawn, boiled enough water for a cup of bitter tea, organized his plans. Today, there was nothing to do. Tomorrow, there would be a meeting in the castle. The ridiculous castle, home to an even more ridiculous king. Foolish orders to follow, plans that he wasn’t allowed to refuse.
Today was, supposedly, a day to relax.
And he obviously wasn’t going to.
Instead, he filled a cup, scraped his chair along the wooden floor until he reached the window, and sat. Stared out into a dull, gray, thick-with-mist morning. His elbows rested on the windowsill, hands cupped around the mug. The early hours were cold, but his bones ached too much for him to bother with getting up. He could barely make out Median trees from the other side of the river.
The awful, goddamn river.
The divide between his heaven and hell.
Fate had not been especially kind to Arthur Kirkland.
His position as a Paritian Rook led to a multitude of negative things. A loss of his homeland, a gain of despicable authority figures. He resided on the borderline; a pro of being far away from the castle, and a massive con as he woke up each day feeling positively homesick. On a few days, it was for his family; on most, for the forests that meant too much to let go.
This repression was unbearable. One might assume that being of nobility, Arthur would have more freedom than others - but that was another blurred line. He lived part-time in a luxurious castle, yes, but under the rule of a man that made his life a living hell. He was allowed to lead troops by the dozen, but never without getting proper instructions.
He was sick of every last bit of it.
Of eating so much seafood. Of all the dark clothing. Of the higher authorities breathing down his neck every damned day. Of taking orders, and never getting to make the final decision. Of being nothing more than - what? A brown-noser, a puppet.
A lapdog.
His grip tightened around the mug.
No, this wouldn't do. Arthur could only stand this type of life for so long. One of these days, he was bound to do something drastic.
He downed every last drop of the tea and left the mug on the windowsill, not caring that a bird could possibly fly in or that he'd burned his tongue or even that the chair fell on its side when he stood up. Instead, he pulled on a coat and wrapped a scarf around his neck, lifting it up so that his mouth was covered.
Let tomorrow bring whatever it decided to.
Today, he was going to find a way into Medius.
Perhaps he'd stow away on a boat. That had worked before. Whatever it took to get back to the forests again, to have a few hours of deafening peace, he would do it.
At the doorway, Arthur took one last look at his disheveled house and grimaced. He then strode off, letting the door resound with a slam behind him.
Today was just one of those days.
[/font]
Alias:[/font][/size][/b][/u] Tea[/font]
Age:[/font][/size][/b][/u] 15[/font]
Experience:[/font][/size][/b][/u] Two years or so in total.[/font]
Additional Information:[/font][/size][/b][/u] I am the embodiment of the word "awkward".
Please forgive me if I sound too stiff/polite, don't talk very often, etc...I do try my best![/font]
Credits:
[/font]Application Code made by B and C. Lyrics by Temposhark, song “Don’t Mess With Me”[/font][/center]