Post by Arthur Kirkland on Nov 27, 2010 20:02:20 GMT -8
Name: Emrys Cystennin Kirkland
Country of Origin: The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland (more specifically, Wales)
Gender Male
Age: 24
Height: 5’5
Weight: 145
Appearance:
Emrys has the kind of face that just fades into the background. He doesn’t have spectacular looks going for him - his brown hair is frizzy and slightly longer than normal; and when he’s in uniform, he has it tied back out of his face with a variety of colored hair bands. Sometimes he even has a couple of small red dragon clips to keep his ever present messy bangs out of his eyes. His eyes are a light green... if you can actually see them as he tends to duck his head and hide them behind his hair - and can ignore the sight of his rather large eyebrows that overshadow them. His face isn’t thin or chubby and there aren’t any traces of baby fat remaining. His lips are constantly chapped and have been known to crack and bleed as he has a tendency to forget to put balm on after missions. Despite being average in height, Emrys is skinny as a pole with rather well-toned muscles that are the direct product of many nights controlling a giant metal dragon.
Not that there are many chances to see those muscles - Emrys doesn’t tend to go anywhere out of the showers without clothes on. When not on duty, he has a penchant for wool - his favorite old article of clothing that he’s managed to hold on to since before he joined the Navy being a wonderfully warm red sweater. He does prefer jeans and normal boxers instead of woolen ones, but under his thick leather boots he keeps his toes toasty with wool socks as well. Being thin as he is can be a bit of a pain - he nearly constantly feels cold, keeping him in the sweater and in colder weather can be seen wandering around with multiple sweaters of different colors on top of each other, much like a rainbow colored penguin.
For formal occasions, Emrys keeps two full dress uniforms hidden away in the back of his closet consisting of a black tunic with matching trousers, colored by five small brass buttons, all emblazoned with the symbol of the Sky Navy. Under the tunic is a crisp black cotton button-up with a dark red tie knotted in between. His peaked cap is black, with a red band, two brass stars off on the right side denoting his rank as an Air Vice-Marshal and the Sky Navy’s badge stitched front and centre for all to see. He wears his polished knee-high black leather boots and black leather gloves in everyday work even if having to constantly clean the boots were more than a bit of a hassle - Emrys just couldn’t be bothered to keep multiple pairs of boots and gloves laying around. And finally, the only time that Emrys can be seen carrying a weapon is when he’s in formal dress - for his rank, he’s required to carry a military issue rapier and pistol, both kept on a brass colored belt and hanging off his right hip.
And finally, when Emrys is up flying on his dragon, Y Ddraig Goch, he had been given a special uniform for flight. The original uniform was a bit like a parka. After having one too many close encounters where he couldn’t see properly because of the fur edged hood, Emrys had Inuk (one of his team members) take the damned thing apart and make it to his specifications. Instead of having his vision blocked by a hood, the jacket was now closer to being a body suit... albeit, one that didn’t fit right against him as he’d had the entire inside lined with fur and wool to keep the heat in. The hood was more of a cap that covered all of his head except for his eyes and mouth, which were occupied by the goggles and microphone that they needed to operate at night and communicate with. The entire thing was black, down to the gloves and boots and was miraculously warm. The only parts of him that were ever cold was his face and the only time he didn’t have the lower half covered by a scarf was when he was needing to use the radio or during an attack.
Crew member of: The World Sky Military
Status: Air-Vice Marshal
Pet:
Crest:
Personality: Emrys has always been a person prone to being in the background. Since he was small, he’d been... not ignored or unloved, but in a large family where he wasn’t the youngest, getting the things he wanted and needed became something he’d have to do for himself. Because of this, he’s nearly entirely independent and has been for years - he can cook (well... he cooks better than the rest of his siblings, but that still isn’t saying too much. It basically equates to bachelor food), sew and clean. Surprisingly, he likes doing such mundane tasks, especially after a mission to let himself wind back down into reality.
He’d never considered himself to be any kind of leader while growing up, due to having three take-charge siblings always giving him orders. After going up in rank and finally being promoted to Air Vice-Marshall in the military - and subsequently getting his dragon and his team - he was probably the most surprised when he was told he was in charge of the platoon. Even more of a surprise was that he was good at it. His nature of staying in the background had gotten him into the habit of staying quiet and making decisions for himself. Applying that to a team of two who resembled his brothers in so many ways - aside from the fact that they actually listened to him some of the time - when he would break his silence and give an order, gave him a boost in confidence that he’d only had once before in his life.
Quiet and strong are the two best words to describe him most of the time. The rest of the time, when he’s up in the air, it’s like another person entirely. With the wind in his hair and a dragon beneath him, his world narrows down to what’s important. Emrys becomes - in a word - dangerous. He doesn’t hesitate when it comes to dives, twists, turns or getting up close and personal with enemies, in fact, he’s just as likely to match Inuk in his every move when he’s flying. To him, the dragon is the part of himself that can do what he normally can’t. As he would normally be somewhat upset about setting a ship full of people on fire, or ripping another one to pieces with claws, but while with his dragon he doesn’t think twice when it comes to doing so.
That being said, he loves his dragon. No one - other than Stefen, their mechanic and engineer for the team - can touch her, not even their superiors. Emrys tries to learn what he can from said mechanic and even though he has basically no head for advanced electronics, he can do a few of the most basic repairs. Right close behind on his list of likes is his family; or rather, his siblings. While he wasn’t as close to the others as they were to each other, he couldn’t imagine growing up without them. And, despite the fact that two of them ran away from home and the other was, presumably, still off chasing after them, he wished all three of them the best. After all, he’d been the one who was originally supposed to leave. If the other three were doing what they wanted out in the world, Emrys would rather see them doing that than staying at home as their father had demanded. He likes sheep - and will promptly murder anyone who infers that he’s a ‘sheep shagger’ - and thinks they’re cute and his favorite past-time when he’s off duty is reading and writing poetry.
History: When he was three, Emrys came to the realization that he’d always be in the background. That was about the time that his parents began to put all their attentions on their youngest son - Arthur - who, even just being a year younger than him was proving to be an above and beyond bright child. At first, he’d been so angry - which is very understandable of a small child who’d had his parents eyes for the few years of his life suddenly taken away - he’d kicked and screamed. It made no difference other than making the adults and his older siblings leave him be more so than before. Emrys’s need for his parents love and affection was squashed and very soon after that, he’d become unnaturally quiet for a child.
He was an odd child after he’d stopped his fits. Seeming to be more mature and aware than any five year old should be, he watched as his older brother and sister grew and became the firsts to do things, to have good grades and to succeed. At the same time, he watched as his little brother blossomed under their parents loving gaze. At first he was angered by this; he existed, and just because he didn’t do things that hadn’t been done before or have the adorable small frame of a toddler didn’t mean he didn’t deserve acknowledgement. But somewhere deep inside him... he accepted it. Some part of him that he couldn’t understand at that age told him that it was okay. That it had always been that way, even before.
So he grew, quietly watching Dylan, Saorise and Arthur grow stronger and more alike everyday. Silently amused that they all fought against each other, claimed to hate each other when he could see how much they loved each other. As the fights grew more and more, Emrys tried more than once to keep the peace between his siblings as he grew tired of listening to them argue or brawl. All he ever gained from that was the ability to take a hit and shaky knowledge of when to step in and when to let it lie.
For a brief period when he’d just entered his pre-teens he temporarily regained some of his long forgotten attention from his parents. Not in a way he wanted, no... the Kirkland patriarch had been observing his children and between him and his wife decided there must be something wrong with Emrys. Children weren’t meant to be quiet - especially with the three siblings he had - weren’t meant to stay up in their rooms and write poetry and sing. For the next few years, Emrys would be in and out of several different psychiatrists doors as his father strived to find some way to make his quietest son less of a wall flower.
The psychiatrist trips ended after Kirkland Sr. spoke with one of his old military friends and decided that his son simply needed more discipline in his life. From then on, while his siblings were going to school or out running wild, Emrys was kept in strict line. He learned most of what he knew about the military during those brief years and when his fathers friend first introduced him to an airplane and offered to take him for a flight in it... Emrys was hooked. The feeling of being up in the air replaced any feeling of inadequacy and turned the silent boy into a happy young man.
His life was looking up - his father told him that once he reached legal age that he would personally enroll Emrys in the military, he had something he enjoyed besides the books of poetry and the old lute he’d managed to come by. Then everything fell apart when Arthur - whom he’d stopped watching, didn’t see the warning signs - ran away, leaving only a note behind him. Their father quickly forgot him again as he and Dylan both went off to try and hunt down the wayward youngest son, leaving Emrys and Saorise home alone. Dylan stayed out - their father did not. Only a month after Arthur’s disappearance, the man came back changed. The first thing that he spoke of was not finding their brother, but marrying off his sister before it was too late.
Emrys quite suddenly found himself paying attention again when Saorise left in much the same manner as Arthur. Devastated, Emrys ignored his fathers demands and ran off to try and find her - to bring her back. He travelled for months on rumors of sightings of her until he hit the ocean and found her trail ended there. At a loss for what to do... Emrys returned home, to face their father’s ire by himself.
Almost immediately he found himself shipped off to the military - despite still being under age. He accepted it, even flourished under it. As the years went by, he practically flew up in rank in the Sky Military and not even news of his parents passing away could tear down his happiness when he was introduced to his new assignment.
His commander had arrived in his bunk one chilly October morning demanding Emrys follow him as he’d received new orders. Falling in to step behind the man, Emrys was led out onto the rooftop of the large building that made up the base he worked at. She was there - resting in all her red and gold glory, eyes alight with the fire that rested inside her. Y Ddraig Goch. His promotion to Air-Vice Marshal and abilities in the air had garnered him some special attention and she was the reward.
Now he finds himself doing missions for his new team - to take down piracy and to keep the peace as peaceful as possible from the back of a dragon.
Allegiance: He’s a high ranked member of the sky military.
How They Died: The age old saying of ‘the weight of the world on his shoulders’ went all the way back to the greek Titan Atlas. Wales could commiserate with the poor bloke; for a long time now he felt like he was going to collapse under the pressure - first the increase because Scotland (poor Scotland... it stung every time he thought of his brother, but then again, a deeper part of him that he loathed was glad it wasn’t himself) was dead and then when his younger brother died on the battle field and left him, Wales, in charge of the United Kingdom. Well, actually, he hadn’t been put in charge, but when his Boss had looked between him and the much younger North Ireland... he wasn’t given a choice.
He honestly didn’t know how he made it through each day now. Everything ached. His head, his hands, his feet - if there was a part of himself that didn’t feel like being pulled in a million and one directions every moment of every day it was a veritable relief. Every moment felt like just keeping his head up, trying to look strong and capable - even as the bruises under his eyes grew darker to match the bruises on his skin. As a nation, he’d felt old before his time before... but now he was starting to look it. Wales woke up in the morning now with gray hairs appearing, a starved look eternally etched on his face and in his skin.
And he was just so tired...
Limping his way into England’s office - his office he had to remember that now - Wales groaned, low and sounding simply exhausted as the paper work he’d managed to finish the day before had grown again, swamping the desk top with unsigned, unread proposals, agreements, anything and everything that dealt with wartimes and everyday affairs hunching in intimidating piles before him. Forcing himself into the chair, Wales pulled the first papers towards himself and began to read.
Hours passed and his eyes not only couldn’t focus on the pages, but they drooped nearly shut with every blink. Rubbing at his tired eyes with bony knuckles, Wales straightened his back and winced as every bone in his spine protested at having been stuck in that hunched over position for so long. The stacks of paper looked no smaller than before, but as he’d been staring at the same handful for the last God knew how long, he made a selfish decision for the first time in a long time.
Settling his head down on top of the nearest pile to use as a pillow, he sighed. No matter how much he slept, it never felt as if he’d had any... but he was just so tired...
His eyes closed. His breathing evened out.
And slowly.
Stopped.
Did you read the rules? Who is a Beastie?: Uh, Mr. Sparrow, I guess. But he wasn’t as much of a beast as Henry Morgan - who was Welsh, by the by.
Country of Origin: The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland (more specifically, Wales)
Gender Male
Age: 24
Height: 5’5
Weight: 145
Appearance:
Emrys has the kind of face that just fades into the background. He doesn’t have spectacular looks going for him - his brown hair is frizzy and slightly longer than normal; and when he’s in uniform, he has it tied back out of his face with a variety of colored hair bands. Sometimes he even has a couple of small red dragon clips to keep his ever present messy bangs out of his eyes. His eyes are a light green... if you can actually see them as he tends to duck his head and hide them behind his hair - and can ignore the sight of his rather large eyebrows that overshadow them. His face isn’t thin or chubby and there aren’t any traces of baby fat remaining. His lips are constantly chapped and have been known to crack and bleed as he has a tendency to forget to put balm on after missions. Despite being average in height, Emrys is skinny as a pole with rather well-toned muscles that are the direct product of many nights controlling a giant metal dragon.
Not that there are many chances to see those muscles - Emrys doesn’t tend to go anywhere out of the showers without clothes on. When not on duty, he has a penchant for wool - his favorite old article of clothing that he’s managed to hold on to since before he joined the Navy being a wonderfully warm red sweater. He does prefer jeans and normal boxers instead of woolen ones, but under his thick leather boots he keeps his toes toasty with wool socks as well. Being thin as he is can be a bit of a pain - he nearly constantly feels cold, keeping him in the sweater and in colder weather can be seen wandering around with multiple sweaters of different colors on top of each other, much like a rainbow colored penguin.
For formal occasions, Emrys keeps two full dress uniforms hidden away in the back of his closet consisting of a black tunic with matching trousers, colored by five small brass buttons, all emblazoned with the symbol of the Sky Navy. Under the tunic is a crisp black cotton button-up with a dark red tie knotted in between. His peaked cap is black, with a red band, two brass stars off on the right side denoting his rank as an Air Vice-Marshal and the Sky Navy’s badge stitched front and centre for all to see. He wears his polished knee-high black leather boots and black leather gloves in everyday work even if having to constantly clean the boots were more than a bit of a hassle - Emrys just couldn’t be bothered to keep multiple pairs of boots and gloves laying around. And finally, the only time that Emrys can be seen carrying a weapon is when he’s in formal dress - for his rank, he’s required to carry a military issue rapier and pistol, both kept on a brass colored belt and hanging off his right hip.
And finally, when Emrys is up flying on his dragon, Y Ddraig Goch, he had been given a special uniform for flight. The original uniform was a bit like a parka. After having one too many close encounters where he couldn’t see properly because of the fur edged hood, Emrys had Inuk (one of his team members) take the damned thing apart and make it to his specifications. Instead of having his vision blocked by a hood, the jacket was now closer to being a body suit... albeit, one that didn’t fit right against him as he’d had the entire inside lined with fur and wool to keep the heat in. The hood was more of a cap that covered all of his head except for his eyes and mouth, which were occupied by the goggles and microphone that they needed to operate at night and communicate with. The entire thing was black, down to the gloves and boots and was miraculously warm. The only parts of him that were ever cold was his face and the only time he didn’t have the lower half covered by a scarf was when he was needing to use the radio or during an attack.
Crew member of: The World Sky Military
Status: Air-Vice Marshal
Pet:
Crest:
Personality: Emrys has always been a person prone to being in the background. Since he was small, he’d been... not ignored or unloved, but in a large family where he wasn’t the youngest, getting the things he wanted and needed became something he’d have to do for himself. Because of this, he’s nearly entirely independent and has been for years - he can cook (well... he cooks better than the rest of his siblings, but that still isn’t saying too much. It basically equates to bachelor food), sew and clean. Surprisingly, he likes doing such mundane tasks, especially after a mission to let himself wind back down into reality.
He’d never considered himself to be any kind of leader while growing up, due to having three take-charge siblings always giving him orders. After going up in rank and finally being promoted to Air Vice-Marshall in the military - and subsequently getting his dragon and his team - he was probably the most surprised when he was told he was in charge of the platoon. Even more of a surprise was that he was good at it. His nature of staying in the background had gotten him into the habit of staying quiet and making decisions for himself. Applying that to a team of two who resembled his brothers in so many ways - aside from the fact that they actually listened to him some of the time - when he would break his silence and give an order, gave him a boost in confidence that he’d only had once before in his life.
Quiet and strong are the two best words to describe him most of the time. The rest of the time, when he’s up in the air, it’s like another person entirely. With the wind in his hair and a dragon beneath him, his world narrows down to what’s important. Emrys becomes - in a word - dangerous. He doesn’t hesitate when it comes to dives, twists, turns or getting up close and personal with enemies, in fact, he’s just as likely to match Inuk in his every move when he’s flying. To him, the dragon is the part of himself that can do what he normally can’t. As he would normally be somewhat upset about setting a ship full of people on fire, or ripping another one to pieces with claws, but while with his dragon he doesn’t think twice when it comes to doing so.
That being said, he loves his dragon. No one - other than Stefen, their mechanic and engineer for the team - can touch her, not even their superiors. Emrys tries to learn what he can from said mechanic and even though he has basically no head for advanced electronics, he can do a few of the most basic repairs. Right close behind on his list of likes is his family; or rather, his siblings. While he wasn’t as close to the others as they were to each other, he couldn’t imagine growing up without them. And, despite the fact that two of them ran away from home and the other was, presumably, still off chasing after them, he wished all three of them the best. After all, he’d been the one who was originally supposed to leave. If the other three were doing what they wanted out in the world, Emrys would rather see them doing that than staying at home as their father had demanded. He likes sheep - and will promptly murder anyone who infers that he’s a ‘sheep shagger’ - and thinks they’re cute and his favorite past-time when he’s off duty is reading and writing poetry.
History: When he was three, Emrys came to the realization that he’d always be in the background. That was about the time that his parents began to put all their attentions on their youngest son - Arthur - who, even just being a year younger than him was proving to be an above and beyond bright child. At first, he’d been so angry - which is very understandable of a small child who’d had his parents eyes for the few years of his life suddenly taken away - he’d kicked and screamed. It made no difference other than making the adults and his older siblings leave him be more so than before. Emrys’s need for his parents love and affection was squashed and very soon after that, he’d become unnaturally quiet for a child.
He was an odd child after he’d stopped his fits. Seeming to be more mature and aware than any five year old should be, he watched as his older brother and sister grew and became the firsts to do things, to have good grades and to succeed. At the same time, he watched as his little brother blossomed under their parents loving gaze. At first he was angered by this; he existed, and just because he didn’t do things that hadn’t been done before or have the adorable small frame of a toddler didn’t mean he didn’t deserve acknowledgement. But somewhere deep inside him... he accepted it. Some part of him that he couldn’t understand at that age told him that it was okay. That it had always been that way, even before.
So he grew, quietly watching Dylan, Saorise and Arthur grow stronger and more alike everyday. Silently amused that they all fought against each other, claimed to hate each other when he could see how much they loved each other. As the fights grew more and more, Emrys tried more than once to keep the peace between his siblings as he grew tired of listening to them argue or brawl. All he ever gained from that was the ability to take a hit and shaky knowledge of when to step in and when to let it lie.
For a brief period when he’d just entered his pre-teens he temporarily regained some of his long forgotten attention from his parents. Not in a way he wanted, no... the Kirkland patriarch had been observing his children and between him and his wife decided there must be something wrong with Emrys. Children weren’t meant to be quiet - especially with the three siblings he had - weren’t meant to stay up in their rooms and write poetry and sing. For the next few years, Emrys would be in and out of several different psychiatrists doors as his father strived to find some way to make his quietest son less of a wall flower.
The psychiatrist trips ended after Kirkland Sr. spoke with one of his old military friends and decided that his son simply needed more discipline in his life. From then on, while his siblings were going to school or out running wild, Emrys was kept in strict line. He learned most of what he knew about the military during those brief years and when his fathers friend first introduced him to an airplane and offered to take him for a flight in it... Emrys was hooked. The feeling of being up in the air replaced any feeling of inadequacy and turned the silent boy into a happy young man.
His life was looking up - his father told him that once he reached legal age that he would personally enroll Emrys in the military, he had something he enjoyed besides the books of poetry and the old lute he’d managed to come by. Then everything fell apart when Arthur - whom he’d stopped watching, didn’t see the warning signs - ran away, leaving only a note behind him. Their father quickly forgot him again as he and Dylan both went off to try and hunt down the wayward youngest son, leaving Emrys and Saorise home alone. Dylan stayed out - their father did not. Only a month after Arthur’s disappearance, the man came back changed. The first thing that he spoke of was not finding their brother, but marrying off his sister before it was too late.
Emrys quite suddenly found himself paying attention again when Saorise left in much the same manner as Arthur. Devastated, Emrys ignored his fathers demands and ran off to try and find her - to bring her back. He travelled for months on rumors of sightings of her until he hit the ocean and found her trail ended there. At a loss for what to do... Emrys returned home, to face their father’s ire by himself.
Almost immediately he found himself shipped off to the military - despite still being under age. He accepted it, even flourished under it. As the years went by, he practically flew up in rank in the Sky Military and not even news of his parents passing away could tear down his happiness when he was introduced to his new assignment.
His commander had arrived in his bunk one chilly October morning demanding Emrys follow him as he’d received new orders. Falling in to step behind the man, Emrys was led out onto the rooftop of the large building that made up the base he worked at. She was there - resting in all her red and gold glory, eyes alight with the fire that rested inside her. Y Ddraig Goch. His promotion to Air-Vice Marshal and abilities in the air had garnered him some special attention and she was the reward.
Now he finds himself doing missions for his new team - to take down piracy and to keep the peace as peaceful as possible from the back of a dragon.
Allegiance: He’s a high ranked member of the sky military.
How They Died: The age old saying of ‘the weight of the world on his shoulders’ went all the way back to the greek Titan Atlas. Wales could commiserate with the poor bloke; for a long time now he felt like he was going to collapse under the pressure - first the increase because Scotland (poor Scotland... it stung every time he thought of his brother, but then again, a deeper part of him that he loathed was glad it wasn’t himself) was dead and then when his younger brother died on the battle field and left him, Wales, in charge of the United Kingdom. Well, actually, he hadn’t been put in charge, but when his Boss had looked between him and the much younger North Ireland... he wasn’t given a choice.
He honestly didn’t know how he made it through each day now. Everything ached. His head, his hands, his feet - if there was a part of himself that didn’t feel like being pulled in a million and one directions every moment of every day it was a veritable relief. Every moment felt like just keeping his head up, trying to look strong and capable - even as the bruises under his eyes grew darker to match the bruises on his skin. As a nation, he’d felt old before his time before... but now he was starting to look it. Wales woke up in the morning now with gray hairs appearing, a starved look eternally etched on his face and in his skin.
And he was just so tired...
Limping his way into England’s office - his office he had to remember that now - Wales groaned, low and sounding simply exhausted as the paper work he’d managed to finish the day before had grown again, swamping the desk top with unsigned, unread proposals, agreements, anything and everything that dealt with wartimes and everyday affairs hunching in intimidating piles before him. Forcing himself into the chair, Wales pulled the first papers towards himself and began to read.
Hours passed and his eyes not only couldn’t focus on the pages, but they drooped nearly shut with every blink. Rubbing at his tired eyes with bony knuckles, Wales straightened his back and winced as every bone in his spine protested at having been stuck in that hunched over position for so long. The stacks of paper looked no smaller than before, but as he’d been staring at the same handful for the last God knew how long, he made a selfish decision for the first time in a long time.
Settling his head down on top of the nearest pile to use as a pillow, he sighed. No matter how much he slept, it never felt as if he’d had any... but he was just so tired...
His eyes closed. His breathing evened out.
And slowly.
Stopped.
Did you read the rules? Who is a Beastie?: Uh, Mr. Sparrow, I guess. But he wasn’t as much of a beast as Henry Morgan - who was Welsh, by the by.
