Post by Harrier Braithewaite on Oct 15, 2009 0:08:38 GMT -5
Name: Harrier Braithewaite
Alias: Jaegaren
Age: 20
Occupation: Forced mercenary
Race: Half Britannian/Japanese
Appearance:
Harrier is probably not what you first expect to see when you ask for an experienced mercenary. While he stands at 6' even he is usually hunched over, making him look twice shorter than his original height. His skin is a rather pale white, almost making him ghost-like in appearance if gazed at from afar. The man's chocolate brown hair falls short, though most of his hair stopping at the small of his neck grow darker, almost to a jet black. His emerald eyes usually reveal piercing glares or dull reflections, depending on which persona you are looking at.
i247.photobucket.com/albums/gg144/MortonShooter/brwt.png
While he is often seen wearing a tattered grey shirt and dark denim jeans on his travels, Harrier has only recently discarded that look and is more than oft seen wearing a faded white vest (In which several weapons are hidden) over a black longsleeve and khaki cargo pants. While somewhat-sophisticated Harrier keeps his hair neat (as it can possibly be), his alter-ego distinguishes himself by making his hair wild and more unruly. A thick black line runs from his forehead, through his right eye and stops just before his right ear.
History: Born half Britannian (father) and half Japanese (mother) with the name Harriet Bale. His brother, however, was full Britannian. Harriet's father played favorites with his sons, and was more attached to his older brother for his purebred Britannian heritage. The most Harriet would get from his father was a nickname--Harrier, for "wasting time simply continuing to live."
Since he knew he could not ever get the respect he wanted from his father, he turned to his brother, Alexander, for a parent-figure. Said brother took in the role almost eagerly, and constantly spent time with his younger brother to teach him where his real father would not. When Harriet was ten, his brother almost thrice his age it took the latter one simple mistake of talking back to his father for him to be killed. Alexander, in his dying breath, merely whispered a word to his brother: "Live." Taking his only family's advice he bolted away from the family home to escape the same fate his brother met.
Harriet knew he wouldn't last long with his father alive; he needed to be dead before it ended up the other way around. However the young boy could not bring himself to kill. The pressure of the death of his only family and the incapacity to take the life of the person he came to abhor most came crashing down on him and its final result came to the creation of his alter-ego, who would 'help him like Alexander would.' Mere days after the escape, Harriet's alter ego went back to the wretched home and stabbed the man in the back several times, puncturing his lungs and thus making him die slowly. The boy ran far away from the area of his past residence, changing his name to Harrier Braithewaite, a simple reminder of what he used to be.
During the next decade he constantly moved from town to town, staying the nights not in the hotels but within the town graveyards. Through this traveling he slowly developed a friendly relationship with his homicidal brother-like alter-ego. This alter-ego would do the things Harrier himself would be afraid to do such as steal food or fend off (read: kill) those who would try to beat him up. While Harrier absolutely abhors the thought of killing, he knows that he and his alter-ego must do this to survive.
Personality: At first Harrier seems to be nothing but--for lack of a better word--a puppet. The always composed, blank-faced man never talks--only doing so when spoken to--, often fidgets, and only seems to do what his alter-ego tells him to. Though once that hard, puppet exterior is looked over, he is a generally nice person who listens to people or is available as a shoulder to cry on. However, when he is in need he will only turn to his alter-ego for assistance.
More than oft is his alter-ego in control, giving color to Harrier's shades of black and white. His alter-ego is almost like Harrier's puppet-shell: he mostly only talks when people speak to him, and constantly fidgets. However it is he who gives Harrier things to do, or he does things for him. Above all, he is mostly a big-brother figure merely being extremely protective of his other... with a dash of slightly uncontrolled, homicidal tendencies.
Strengths: Combat, moderately intelligent, somewhat quick, excellent actor and violinist.
Weaknesses: Rash (alter-ego), somewhat hesitant (original Harrier) , general distrust for anyone, fear of killing (original Harrier), overprotective of either persona.
Abilities: Combat: Harrier prefers not to use weapons opposite to his alter-ego. This gives both of them an edge in general combat when one is disarmed or claims a weapon.
Acting: Harrier keeps the puppet persona up publicly--no cracks are seen through this little mask of his until his alter-ego is in control.
Music: It is said that music soothes the savage beast, and this cannot be more said for Harrier. His skills on the violin are nothing short of superb; however he is a widower, and will therefore play a piece by ear instead of reading notes.
Weapon Proficiency: Harrier's alter-ego has a balanced knowledge of most weapons, but is exceptionally skilled with bladed weapons.
Allegiance: While both personas seem to lean toward the Black Knights, he has no true allegiance.
Extra: Harrier keeps with him his brother's violin, one last keepsake of the only family he came to know.
Role-Playing Sample:
"This isn't a cemetery..." A frown graced Harrier's features as he warily stalked through the woods. His dark emerald orbs quickly surveyed the seemingly endless sea of bark and leaves, searching just for a sign of a tomb or grave marker. Finding none, his frown deepened.
-Did you make a wrong turn again?- drawled the voice of his already annoyed guardian.
"Maybe..." the man replied to the air uncertainly, taking another survey of the land once more before glancing down at the worn-down violin he held in his hands. "Perhaps this time it's safe now... there doesn't seem to be anyone around..."
-Fine,- rang the final consideration of decision in Harrier's mind, clear with caution, -but know that at even the slightest hint of another presence I will not hesitate to come out and...greet it.-
"Just don't break the violin when you do..." The other persona sighed resignedly as his original rested his chin upon the instrument and its bow above the strings. With hesitance Harrier began to make the violin sing out a sorrowful hymn, its tone drifting in and out melodiously within the silence of the woods.
If the man's other guise had a face, he would be smiling bitterly at the emotion within the song. It had been long--too long, the other wondered--since Harrier had poured out his feelings. It wasn't very healthy for him to keep it all bottled up--but then again, was the existence of an alter-ego even healthy at all? The answer was obviously a no to many, but not for his charge. He needed a person to be there for him, and until then he would continue existing...
The clouds within the night sky cleared, revealing the pale circle that it had concealed for quite some time. The melodic tune suddenly disappeared into the air, and Harrier's emerald gaze lifted themselves to the heavens. "You don't usually brood," the man commented with a slight chuckle.
-Keep playing, squirt,- snapped the other in reply in increased annoyance. -We're moving out of here if you're done.-
Alias: Jaegaren
Age: 20
Occupation: Forced mercenary
Race: Half Britannian/Japanese
Appearance:
Harrier is probably not what you first expect to see when you ask for an experienced mercenary. While he stands at 6' even he is usually hunched over, making him look twice shorter than his original height. His skin is a rather pale white, almost making him ghost-like in appearance if gazed at from afar. The man's chocolate brown hair falls short, though most of his hair stopping at the small of his neck grow darker, almost to a jet black. His emerald eyes usually reveal piercing glares or dull reflections, depending on which persona you are looking at.
i247.photobucket.com/albums/gg144/MortonShooter/brwt.png
While he is often seen wearing a tattered grey shirt and dark denim jeans on his travels, Harrier has only recently discarded that look and is more than oft seen wearing a faded white vest (In which several weapons are hidden) over a black longsleeve and khaki cargo pants. While somewhat-sophisticated Harrier keeps his hair neat (as it can possibly be), his alter-ego distinguishes himself by making his hair wild and more unruly. A thick black line runs from his forehead, through his right eye and stops just before his right ear.
History: Born half Britannian (father) and half Japanese (mother) with the name Harriet Bale. His brother, however, was full Britannian. Harriet's father played favorites with his sons, and was more attached to his older brother for his purebred Britannian heritage. The most Harriet would get from his father was a nickname--Harrier, for "wasting time simply continuing to live."
Since he knew he could not ever get the respect he wanted from his father, he turned to his brother, Alexander, for a parent-figure. Said brother took in the role almost eagerly, and constantly spent time with his younger brother to teach him where his real father would not. When Harriet was ten, his brother almost thrice his age it took the latter one simple mistake of talking back to his father for him to be killed. Alexander, in his dying breath, merely whispered a word to his brother: "Live." Taking his only family's advice he bolted away from the family home to escape the same fate his brother met.
Harriet knew he wouldn't last long with his father alive; he needed to be dead before it ended up the other way around. However the young boy could not bring himself to kill. The pressure of the death of his only family and the incapacity to take the life of the person he came to abhor most came crashing down on him and its final result came to the creation of his alter-ego, who would 'help him like Alexander would.' Mere days after the escape, Harriet's alter ego went back to the wretched home and stabbed the man in the back several times, puncturing his lungs and thus making him die slowly. The boy ran far away from the area of his past residence, changing his name to Harrier Braithewaite, a simple reminder of what he used to be.
During the next decade he constantly moved from town to town, staying the nights not in the hotels but within the town graveyards. Through this traveling he slowly developed a friendly relationship with his homicidal brother-like alter-ego. This alter-ego would do the things Harrier himself would be afraid to do such as steal food or fend off (read: kill) those who would try to beat him up. While Harrier absolutely abhors the thought of killing, he knows that he and his alter-ego must do this to survive.
Personality: At first Harrier seems to be nothing but--for lack of a better word--a puppet. The always composed, blank-faced man never talks--only doing so when spoken to--, often fidgets, and only seems to do what his alter-ego tells him to. Though once that hard, puppet exterior is looked over, he is a generally nice person who listens to people or is available as a shoulder to cry on. However, when he is in need he will only turn to his alter-ego for assistance.
More than oft is his alter-ego in control, giving color to Harrier's shades of black and white. His alter-ego is almost like Harrier's puppet-shell: he mostly only talks when people speak to him, and constantly fidgets. However it is he who gives Harrier things to do, or he does things for him. Above all, he is mostly a big-brother figure merely being extremely protective of his other... with a dash of slightly uncontrolled, homicidal tendencies.
Strengths: Combat, moderately intelligent, somewhat quick, excellent actor and violinist.
Weaknesses: Rash (alter-ego), somewhat hesitant (original Harrier) , general distrust for anyone, fear of killing (original Harrier), overprotective of either persona.
Abilities: Combat: Harrier prefers not to use weapons opposite to his alter-ego. This gives both of them an edge in general combat when one is disarmed or claims a weapon.
Acting: Harrier keeps the puppet persona up publicly--no cracks are seen through this little mask of his until his alter-ego is in control.
Music: It is said that music soothes the savage beast, and this cannot be more said for Harrier. His skills on the violin are nothing short of superb; however he is a widower, and will therefore play a piece by ear instead of reading notes.
Weapon Proficiency: Harrier's alter-ego has a balanced knowledge of most weapons, but is exceptionally skilled with bladed weapons.
Allegiance: While both personas seem to lean toward the Black Knights, he has no true allegiance.
Extra: Harrier keeps with him his brother's violin, one last keepsake of the only family he came to know.
Role-Playing Sample:
"This isn't a cemetery..." A frown graced Harrier's features as he warily stalked through the woods. His dark emerald orbs quickly surveyed the seemingly endless sea of bark and leaves, searching just for a sign of a tomb or grave marker. Finding none, his frown deepened.
-Did you make a wrong turn again?- drawled the voice of his already annoyed guardian.
"Maybe..." the man replied to the air uncertainly, taking another survey of the land once more before glancing down at the worn-down violin he held in his hands. "Perhaps this time it's safe now... there doesn't seem to be anyone around..."
-Fine,- rang the final consideration of decision in Harrier's mind, clear with caution, -but know that at even the slightest hint of another presence I will not hesitate to come out and...greet it.-
"Just don't break the violin when you do..." The other persona sighed resignedly as his original rested his chin upon the instrument and its bow above the strings. With hesitance Harrier began to make the violin sing out a sorrowful hymn, its tone drifting in and out melodiously within the silence of the woods.
If the man's other guise had a face, he would be smiling bitterly at the emotion within the song. It had been long--too long, the other wondered--since Harrier had poured out his feelings. It wasn't very healthy for him to keep it all bottled up--but then again, was the existence of an alter-ego even healthy at all? The answer was obviously a no to many, but not for his charge. He needed a person to be there for him, and until then he would continue existing...
The clouds within the night sky cleared, revealing the pale circle that it had concealed for quite some time. The melodic tune suddenly disappeared into the air, and Harrier's emerald gaze lifted themselves to the heavens. "You don't usually brood," the man commented with a slight chuckle.
-Keep playing, squirt,- snapped the other in reply in increased annoyance. -We're moving out of here if you're done.-