Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Jul 17, 2017 13:45:36 GMT -8
Lekalis Claren Fanuschrat "Blood"
Resolve level: 4
Resolve level: 4
-Appearance
Age: 33
Sex: M
Physical Description:
Height : 5'5 1/2" || 166cm
Weight : 145lbs || 66kg
Lekalis' noble birth is all but written on his pockless face, and regal features, his pale gold hue only serves to reinforce this presumption of royalty.
His cheekbones are high, but middling in size, yet perfectly located to accentuate his ever so slightly Oriental-set eyes.
His cheeks themselves flow flawlessly to his fair and thin jaw, the bone neither obtusely broad nor womanly acute; middling somewhere inbetwixt with a princely charm, and a slightly pointed chin is set fairly from his lips.
Of which, are a bit reddish, and rather finely formed; while no perfect cupid's bow, they boast an innate grace in the way they pronounce each syllable with a flow of falling wine in a crystal.
His nose is set rather plainly at the center of his face; and, for all his princely appearance, it looks altogether rather lackluster. No bulging bridge or pointed tip; the nose pokes out at a fair angle, ending with a slight bulb, a smidge larger than the bridge. The nostrils flare out a bit with an Eastern manner, but a predominantly European mundanity makes up the appearance therein.
His brows are almost always slightly upraised in some level of mixed amusement; inky black, and finely trimmed, yet, despite it there is a slight raise to the corner of the right brow, giving him an almost resting inquisitive look.
Inky pools, would describe his Far Eastern eyes; while not as dramatic as those that originate from the far off lands, there is an unmistakable slant to them. His bored gaze is somehow always entrancing in the way a red glimmer dances across its surface.
His hair is doubly an inkish hue, like a starless night, yet it rolls with gentle waves to his shoulders. While usually fair-combed with fingers or tools, he occasionally gets tangles in the long locks. Henceforth, he typically ties up the rather luxurious locks of hair up into a bun with twine and pin.
In aire of hair, about his lips is a speckling of hairs, light in density, they only serve to reinforce his roguish nature. A moustache and goatee are curiously elegant on his features that would otherwise demand a lack in hair thereof. The Moustache-Goatee combo is shaped in the stylings of a Spanish Conquistadore`, despite having no ties to the country.
The rest of his body is curiously bereft of any hair, even in his matured age. Indeed, his person is largely unspeckled by time and corrosion. However, a few fresh scars still heal on his person:
A hex of circular scars mark his back, along his shoulder blades, where musket lead struck him.
Next, would be a rather notable scar on his right cheek, made from a chemical burn; it left a porous mark along the edge of his jaw, stopping just at the core of his cheek.
Below that is a barely notable slice, scant the length of half a thumb, wherein a scalpel had violently attempted to kill him. Unsuccessfully.
His rather lean chest and stomach are unmarked by any damage, besides, perhaps, some fading love-scratches.
However, at his hips, to the leftern lower quadrant of his abdomen, is a two inch gash; wherein a dagger had slipped under his cuirass.
More towards his core, rather uncomfortably near the groin, is a long burning-cut scar; starting from the locale proper, and rising up and to the right, ending at the bottom of his ribcage.
Past that, his legs are rather lightly haired and toned to a lean and agile degree. Ending with feet that wriggle with toes that slant in a Greekish manner.
Altogether, he is an undeniable Blue-Blood by appearance alone, with a cat-like guile about himself and face.
Soft waves roll through his midnight locks of hair which frame that regal face; inkish eyes peer out from a half-lidded gaze that only serves to reinforce a feline appearance.
Despite his lackadazy and cocksure stature, Lekalis is only 5'5 1/2", or 166cm; though his ego and manner tend to impress a taller height. His physique is one of surprising balance due to a keen awareness born from meditations and studies; neither strikingly defined nor boorishly plain. He maintains a weight of 145lbs(or 66kg) thanks to proper activities and diets which he, more or less, keeps to.
-Scars-
On his Left cheek is a slightly greyed and mortified patch of flesh, stopping just under his cheekbone. The scar was made when acid was splashed on his face during his First Year in the Hamlet, in the Ruins, by one Doctor Whateley, when Lekalis attacked the Doctor after constant goading from Whateley.
Cutting into his Left brow, above the outer end of his eye, is a second acidic burn scar from where the acid had also splashed. It is roughly a centimeter and a half long, and a quarter of a centimeter wide.
On his upper back, from one shoulder blade to another, is an array of six gunshot scars; where he had been shot at in the Ruins by a firing line of Bandits, after trying to run into cover.
On his left shoulder is a cut from a great Gargoyle's claw, it runs across the crest of his shoulder, front and back; though it stops shortly after reaching the flat of his pectorals and his shoulder blades
Around his waist are two scars; one is a simple stab mark, when a dagger had plunged into his leftern lower quadrant of his abdomen. He received this when a Highwayman named Nathan threw a dagger at him on the same Ruins expedition as when Whateley had burned Lekalis' face.
The second scar is a burning-cut scar, which starts close to the center of his groin, though more leant to the right, before it extends up and to the right again, stopping just below Lekalis' ribcage.
Attire:
While not dealing with any immediate threat, Lekalis tends to prefer a flowsome garb with a level of practicality to keep him alive:
A simple half-tunic with poof-some sleeves, with no dye, drapes over his torso. However, to imply some definition, for practicality, and for fashion, a quadlet of torcs adorn his two arms.
Two torcs, or rather, glorified armbands, are on both arms. Part of a set, apparently. The first pair is set at the center of his biceps, made of braided deep brown linen ; the edges capped in a lighter and more supple leather. The braid ties off with a about ten centimeters of spare linen.
The last torcs are set at his wrist, and are made of braided leather and the edges are capped in two segments of iron that allow for the band to be taken on and off at will.
A strap crosses his body in three ways, first over the left shoulder, then about the side and diagonally as well, to hold a loop for his spear at his back. A bit overly complex. The straps are held together by a buckle and buttons for easy removal.
His lower body is guarded by leather chaps, the leather being rather finely crafted and made of several compressed layers of elk-hide. Beneath those are some simple linen trousers of grayish hue, the initial charcoal dye having worn out over the years. A belt keeps it all tight about his waist.
His feet are comfortably hidden beneath elk-hide boots, that rise up to the bottom of his knee and flare out with a cuff. A simple button hides the more intense lace of leather to keep the boot flush to his calf. It boasts a small half inch heel and a pointed toe; good for riding a horse.
Atop it all is a luxurious silken cloak. Though it has been tarnished by adventuring, its red hue still seems to shine in the light. It is triple layered about the shoulders, and boasts a high collar that acts as a kind of half-hood. There were once several disks of gold, but have long since been removed and used. Or hidden.
The ends of the cloak flutter at his ankles in ghostly tatters. The apparel rolls with an almost hypnotic, oceanic manner. Fluxuating from the deepest, darkest shades of red, to a nigh glimmering white; it is almost disturbing how its shade so closely resembles blood.
In combat, Lekalis wears a simple cuirass with three overlapping thigh-plates that protrude from the bottom. A gorget also is bolted about the neck. The cuirass has a back and front made of hard steel.
He doubly boasts a satchel that rests easily at his hip
Hidden, usually, beneath his tunic is a red ruby, the size of a man's hand, hidden at his breast. A Blood-Ruby, as it was coined by some Nomad.
-Biography
Quirks:
Sanguine : Eerily chipper. It's hard to tell if he's really having a good time, since it always seems like a good time to him.
Graceful : While some may have agility, he has grace. His movements are almost hypnotic, in the way he seems to dance past dexterous or agility demanding feats.
Agile : A trait many claim, but few can truly prove. If but by some instinctive foresight, he seems to have a mind for manoeuvring his way through this realm.
Silver-Tongued : For all the physical demands of the world, a sharp wit can best the cruelest blades.
Hedonistic : A pursuit and indulgence of lusts of all kinds makes for an eventful, if not short, life.
Hemtomania : The sight of blood is unnaturally alluring to this man.
Dacnomania : Some might find the prospect of biting unnerving and predatory, yet there's a titillating sensation in the way one gives in to such carnal desires.
Ablutomania : For all one's acts, it is always proper to make sure you keep it clean and right.
Synopsis :
Born to a family, too righteous to bear his existence under their banner, exile Lekalis to wander the world in hopes of finding a life more suiting to a kinslayer and rebel.
That has brought him here, to the Darkest estate; where glory is to be had, and gold. And blood.
What sent him to exile can be heard by those who have passed the now bloody halls of Lekalis’ own bastille. A dangerous piece of information, of a truly romantic endeavor that resulted in only bloodshed; a tale that dances on the ideas of true love. The word is spoken that he, Lekalis, had bedded a princess of another true house. The issue arises when said princess was promised to another.
The inevitable comes, and war evolves; however, Lekalis is left abandoned by his own family, to fight against an entire house’s fury.
It is without telling, that Lekalis was defeated; though his passion and aggression permeated throughout his way and tactics. He had slain many, in critical victories that surmounted to nothing thanks to a swarm of small but overwhelming defeats. The final conclusion, was a battle within his hall; where there was no soul left which lended itself to Lekalis. A mutiny erupted, his own family who had tried to dissuade him one last time, took action.
But, he had survived; some queer luck falling on him, giving him the strength to dispatch the twenty men within the hall with little more than a spear, buckler, and falchion.
None the less; he was without any powerful allies, and his family would not take him; as they had removed any affiliations with his soul at that bloody point.
His history earns his nickname, ‘Blood’. A simple title, that writhes within every inch of his being: from soul, to body, to history.
Full: //TBR//
Misc. Notes:
Blood-ruby heirloom : Passed down the Fanuschrat line, a memoir of pride, glory… now, pain and sorrow.
The gem is tear drop shaped and rimmed with gold and capped with a gold plated steel nipple at the top. A silver chain is a perfect fit for Blood. The edges are dangerously sharp. The gem is a Schrodinger’s cat in the sense it is feels wet to the touch, but lacks the associated slickness therein… Rather, a sucking, leechsome sensation that is uncomfortably alluring to hold.
Img. References:
-Skills & Equipment
Weapons:
A single falchion. Made of steel, with a crossguard that flares out on the cutting edge of the blade. The handle boasts a simple leather wrapping, and the guard is made of steel, like the blade.
Its sheathe rests on his right facing, linked to his belt.
A buckler, made of charcoal'd steel, hangs over the opposing side, usually. The straps are usually loose. Lekalis' fighting style preferring to keep the defensive device ready for a parry at any angle.
Most prominently, is a winged spear. A sturdy wooden pole and a simple metal head. The weapon for any man, there's a veterancy in the way he wields the weapon, and in the wear and tear of the weapon. It usually rests in a leather loop at his back.
Armor:
The aforementioned cuirass, boasting a gorget and three auxilliary plates along the lower edge.
Other gear:
A satchel made of soft leather.
Strengths:
Excellent against human foes, or those that have semblence therein.
Doubly, he's curiously capable at being happy, relatively at least.
He is also very quick to learn, having studied under countless tutors and masters; he's touched in many subjects, though his memory is as fleeting as any bored student.
He is also well trained in dodging, and manoveuring around and exploting his enemy: it's what makes him so dangerous against his fellow man.
Weaknesses:
While not weak, he is by no mean's strong. His weapons and attacks rely more on striking weakpoints or striking many times.
There's a dangerous lust about him as well; in and out of combat. His Passion has killed people before, and it will always prove to be a dangerous aspect of his person.
He's also very inexperienced in handling creatures of supernatural origin. Preferring to run than fight such unnatural foes.
His blueblooded nature also has made him a bit of a softie; making his skin soft and uncallous.