Chronicles of Siriko - Reborn [OOC]
- Thread starter Andre Valias
- Start date
Guess who.
_______________________________________
Name: Thalion Syranas.
Age: Seventeen.
Race: Hume.
Gender: Male.
Starsign: Ice starsign.
Appearance: Under the appearance of a vagrant, this teenager hold a ravaged-by-the-streets body, ridden by scars and tanned by the hours below the sun's heavy punishment. Wherever you look, you will find scars, although majoritarily small and unnoticeable unless you're searching for them. There are only a few really noticeable ones: A long, thin scar on his right thigh, and the remaindings of a sword that once pierced through his left forearm. His face, though, still holds the structure and shape of a teenager turning into an adult, with slightly prominent cheeks, a flat nose and big, almond eyes, probably the most noticeable trait of his body, eyes that make any noble family in Varuna city be jealous of a little vagrant. This scheme gives him a serious look by default, and a face that makes it hard to stare back at when its rage shows. Miraculously, all of his teeth are still in place even after being a vagrant, although dirtied and riddened with filth. Small ears complete his face, alongside with his lips, slightly flat, with a little cut on the upper right part of his lip. As for his hair, the purest obsidian seems to have taken its home into this youngster's hair, making it the most pure black colour possible.
As a vagrant, his clothes are very limited. Ragged, chipped, and destroyed by the unstoppable time, Old greens, yellows, reds have taken a brown-ish, plaint colour. His outfit is basically made of Rags, old pieces of clothes joined together by precarious sewings. A sleeve-less vest covers his chest, with the ripped sleeves remnants on his shoulder, small strips of cloth sticking out of the black vest. The essential clothes are completed by really long and wide pants, riddened with holes here and there, ragged by time's cruel advance. He has a small more amount of properties: A belt, dirtied and barely standing, holding a purse, empty (of course), and even though it may seem like a commodity for a vagrant, he can say he wears shoes, although another piece of clothing that barely stands. The only thing that conserves a shade of colour is a handkerchief, pink, wrapped around his left forearm, hiding the spot where a dagger went through. Hidden behind the purse, a chipped copper dagger makes up for this youngster's defense.
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 170lb
It is one footsteps on the trail of time that make OURSELVES.
Background: Almond eyes. A trait not so common in Azadia nor in Varuna city. None of the lower families in the city have it. It is usually a trait reserved to nobles and privileged people... yet no one knows why this young vagrant has these firy, passionate eyes. It may just be a coincidence, who knows; it may just mean this boy came from a noble family, and now is wandering the streets. Thalion can't really remember which one of these two is the true option... after being left, abandoned, it's not like he really cares anymore. The first years of his life passed going from orphanage to orphanage, waiting, doing nothing, watching time eat his life. There was not really much anyone could do... his eyes were the problem. Any family that would come to adopt a kid would be scared to be accused of stealing that kid from a noble family. And so, he waited for the family that never came, watching how kids passed by and learning a few household skills while spending his time there. After the first twelve years of his life his through, his time was gone. He had to leave the orphanage again... and this time there was no new orphanage, just the streets. He thought he would be alone, that there was nothing more for him, that it was the end of his life...
Hera. A teenager, maybe two years older than him. She could give him the home he needed, or better said, a place to call home.. .But, how? she was just another vagrant, covered in the same rags as him, although wearing some cheap jewelry made of bronze or iron. She still had the spirit of a goddess for him. She gave him a place to go... that little dead end on the outskirts of Varuna city, what slowly became the hideout of a bunch of friends, always coming there for her help... she became kind of like their mother, even though she was barely two years older than them. At least, she had a job, and did her best to help the other people survive. She became Thalion's main support, the only pole that holded his life up and prevented him from sinking down. He started getting used to the life of a vagrant, wandering the streets, cutting purses, taking what he needed, leaving what he didn't. It was the life of a street child... Thalion Syranas. Nothing much changed, people came and went with time, but him and Hera still resisted, together with the changing people. Before anyone could notice, Thalion reached seventeen years old. He didn't really know which day he had been born... but Hera had given him a birthday.
And that birthday couldn't have been worse, as the javelin thrown by an Eradian soldier cleanly pierced through Hera's stomach, from side to side. What she did to anger him, nobody knows: it was all erased as a theft attempt gone wrong. As for Thalion... this changed his life, and no longer he was a vagrant, a street kid, just surviving. For once, his life had a purpose, different to living for the next day: vengeance. But, not by himself, no... Hera. He wanted her back, he was going to get her back... he was sure of that. Even if he had to go to the deepest pits of hell, she was coming with him. And then, the Eradians would know vengeance. How...
Well, that is up for all of us to soon discover.
Equipment:
-Chipped copper dagger, hidden on his belt.
Skills:
-Small theft.
-Running away from the ones he small-thefts.
Class: Survivor...
Faction: No one.
Mount: None.
Location: Varuna city.
AFTER THE LIGHTS GO OUT ON YOU, AFTER YOUR WORTHLESS LIFE IS THROUGH, I WILL REMEMBER HOW YOU SCREAMED.
_______________________________________
In the beginning of everything, so it is decided our own DESTINY.
Name: Thalion Syranas.
Age: Seventeen.
Race: Hume.
Gender: Male.
Starsign: Ice starsign.
The present day that Will not last more than a SECOND...
Appearance: Under the appearance of a vagrant, this teenager hold a ravaged-by-the-streets body, ridden by scars and tanned by the hours below the sun's heavy punishment. Wherever you look, you will find scars, although majoritarily small and unnoticeable unless you're searching for them. There are only a few really noticeable ones: A long, thin scar on his right thigh, and the remaindings of a sword that once pierced through his left forearm. His face, though, still holds the structure and shape of a teenager turning into an adult, with slightly prominent cheeks, a flat nose and big, almond eyes, probably the most noticeable trait of his body, eyes that make any noble family in Varuna city be jealous of a little vagrant. This scheme gives him a serious look by default, and a face that makes it hard to stare back at when its rage shows. Miraculously, all of his teeth are still in place even after being a vagrant, although dirtied and riddened with filth. Small ears complete his face, alongside with his lips, slightly flat, with a little cut on the upper right part of his lip. As for his hair, the purest obsidian seems to have taken its home into this youngster's hair, making it the most pure black colour possible.
As a vagrant, his clothes are very limited. Ragged, chipped, and destroyed by the unstoppable time, Old greens, yellows, reds have taken a brown-ish, plaint colour. His outfit is basically made of Rags, old pieces of clothes joined together by precarious sewings. A sleeve-less vest covers his chest, with the ripped sleeves remnants on his shoulder, small strips of cloth sticking out of the black vest. The essential clothes are completed by really long and wide pants, riddened with holes here and there, ragged by time's cruel advance. He has a small more amount of properties: A belt, dirtied and barely standing, holding a purse, empty (of course), and even though it may seem like a commodity for a vagrant, he can say he wears shoes, although another piece of clothing that barely stands. The only thing that conserves a shade of colour is a handkerchief, pink, wrapped around his left forearm, hiding the spot where a dagger went through. Hidden behind the purse, a chipped copper dagger makes up for this youngster's defense.
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 170lb
It is one footsteps on the trail of time that make OURSELVES.
Background: Almond eyes. A trait not so common in Azadia nor in Varuna city. None of the lower families in the city have it. It is usually a trait reserved to nobles and privileged people... yet no one knows why this young vagrant has these firy, passionate eyes. It may just be a coincidence, who knows; it may just mean this boy came from a noble family, and now is wandering the streets. Thalion can't really remember which one of these two is the true option... after being left, abandoned, it's not like he really cares anymore. The first years of his life passed going from orphanage to orphanage, waiting, doing nothing, watching time eat his life. There was not really much anyone could do... his eyes were the problem. Any family that would come to adopt a kid would be scared to be accused of stealing that kid from a noble family. And so, he waited for the family that never came, watching how kids passed by and learning a few household skills while spending his time there. After the first twelve years of his life his through, his time was gone. He had to leave the orphanage again... and this time there was no new orphanage, just the streets. He thought he would be alone, that there was nothing more for him, that it was the end of his life...
Hera. A teenager, maybe two years older than him. She could give him the home he needed, or better said, a place to call home.. .But, how? she was just another vagrant, covered in the same rags as him, although wearing some cheap jewelry made of bronze or iron. She still had the spirit of a goddess for him. She gave him a place to go... that little dead end on the outskirts of Varuna city, what slowly became the hideout of a bunch of friends, always coming there for her help... she became kind of like their mother, even though she was barely two years older than them. At least, she had a job, and did her best to help the other people survive. She became Thalion's main support, the only pole that holded his life up and prevented him from sinking down. He started getting used to the life of a vagrant, wandering the streets, cutting purses, taking what he needed, leaving what he didn't. It was the life of a street child... Thalion Syranas. Nothing much changed, people came and went with time, but him and Hera still resisted, together with the changing people. Before anyone could notice, Thalion reached seventeen years old. He didn't really know which day he had been born... but Hera had given him a birthday.
And that birthday couldn't have been worse, as the javelin thrown by an Eradian soldier cleanly pierced through Hera's stomach, from side to side. What she did to anger him, nobody knows: it was all erased as a theft attempt gone wrong. As for Thalion... this changed his life, and no longer he was a vagrant, a street kid, just surviving. For once, his life had a purpose, different to living for the next day: vengeance. But, not by himself, no... Hera. He wanted her back, he was going to get her back... he was sure of that. Even if he had to go to the deepest pits of hell, she was coming with him. And then, the Eradians would know vengeance. How...
Well, that is up for all of us to soon discover.
Equipment:
-Chipped copper dagger, hidden on his belt.
Skills:
-Small theft.
-Running away from the ones he small-thefts.
Class: Survivor...
Faction: No one.
Mount: None.
Location: Varuna city.
AFTER THE LIGHTS GO OUT ON YOU, AFTER YOUR WORTHLESS LIFE IS THROUGH, I WILL REMEMBER HOW YOU SCREAMED.
