Post by Wang Yao on Jan 17, 2011 3:28:14 GMT -8
Name: Wang Yao
Country of Origin: People's Republic of China
Gender Male
Age: 27
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 134lbs. I are too too skinny, aru.
Appearance: Wang Yao's outward appearance is extremely feminine, and it is not uncommon for people to mistake him for a girl, (much to his displeasure). He regularly pulls his long, dark brown hair back in the traditional Chinese pigtail, leaving his braid loose to signify his social class, while his long bangs frame his face, and rest on either side of his jawbone. His chocolate, almond-shaped eyes are filled with a certain wisdom beyond his years, and help contribute to his girlish-look. One of Yao's distinguishing features are his calloused and permanently earth-stained hands from cultivating the land since childhood. They, like his feet, are small and thin, and are highly prized as 'beautiful' in his country. A large scar (given to him accidentally by Kiku) decorates his back.
Red is Yao's favorite color, and he loves to add the bright hue to his simplistic wardrobe. On any given day, he'll typically run around in his red (long-sleeved) cheongsam, Manchurian white trousers, bandage-wrapped legs, and cloth shoes.
Crew member of:
Status:
Pet:
Crest:
Personality: Though he is still young, Wang Yao sometimes acts like an old man. His actions are always thought out ahead of time, and he tends to be methodical when working with certain mediums. (ie - silk, clay, etc.) While not a complainer, Yao does tends to grumble about having "old, tired bones" and frequently rubs his neck free of knots. He is hard-working and resourceful, though he has a tendency to sell himself short, often taking only half the amount of pay, (compared with what Europeans or Americans make), while still doing the same amount of hard labor and factory work.
His moods are said to reflect that of yin and yang. Through meditation and training he's able to harmonize with both his male and female sides, causing him to switch between emotions quickly. His highly guarded and superstitious nature makes it hard to for others to understand and connect with him, (save for Phuong), and he rarely shows the optimistic side of his personality to anybody, including family. Most people see a boy who is a reserved, hardworking, and protective (self-proclaimed) elder brother. He can be unknowingly blunt at times, and when confronted, he often insists that he doesn't mean to be rude or judgmental, but helpful. (His siblings will advise others to only ask him questions to which you can stand an honest, unblemished answer).
A lover of peace, warm summers and memorable times, Yao will go out of his way to pick up someone else's slack and disregard his own feelings, just to avoid an argument or confrontation. However, his selfless personality only seems to earn him freeloading relations, rather than best friends.
He is a quick and enthusiastic learner who loves to tackle new projects, and his self-discipline helps him to devote himself entirely toward mastering several different subjects. That being said, however, he easily gets depressed when things tend to be overly difficult for him to pick up, and his expectations (for himself and others) are usually tough to live up to.
Wang Yao likes to act like an older brother toward the other Asian countries, and he likes to place himself in their family trees without asking. He enjoys reading and teaching his siblings how to cook, use kung fu, and read, despite their inability to always get along. He has a respectful fear of Kiku, after being attacked by him, and Yong Soo tends to annoy him, due to his clingy and erratic personality.
Drinking tea, and playing New 'Jong (the classic version of Mahjong is lost among the people of today) are two of his favorite pastimes, and he seems to have a strange liking for cute things, pandas and plushed animals in particular.
History: "Bamboo shoots are easily broken, but they survive because of their capacity to grow past the pain."
Wang Yao was (lucky enough, to be) born as the first son, into a poor farming family, on the edge of the Guangdong province. His birth was celebrated in traditional Chinese fashion, with red paper lanterns hanging from the small doorway of their home, to scrolls placed by his crib granting him a prosperous and healthy life. Unfortunately, his honored position is where his luck runs out, as Yao's life seems to be plagued with nothing but trials.
Growing up, Yao's parents lectured him daily on how to make smart, factor-based decisions, while concerning the needs of the whole family. Waking up early in the morning and continuing on, long into the afternoon, Yao learned how to properly plow, sow and harvest his inheritance. At night, he was often expected to learn how to conduct business, and learn the current trade system, forcing him to go and learn from village elders, as many books had perished in the Cultural Revolution, before his birth.
Yao was nine when government officials came into his village to speak with the youth residing there. Nervous and fearful, Yao's small hands shook violently, as his name was called out. Stepping forward, he bowed his head slightly, before being quickly pulled aside. The small boy felt a bit like a rag-doll, as he was passed from one official to the next, before being sat down on a hard, bamboo chair, facing what looked to be a panel of judges. Yao remembers the oldest interviewer having a stern face, and an intimidating brow, as he peered over his circled glasses at him, looking positively uninterested. Not wasting any time, he proceeded to ask an assortment of odd questions, each being followed with a series of methodical ticks as each of the judges marked something off on their checklists. Sighing, (probably from sheer boredom), Yao's interviewer then asked him something that changed his life forever:
"What is your national anthem?"
" ... we don't have a national anthem."
"Well, enlighten me then, what would it sound like if we did?"
Thinking it over carefully, Yao simply replied, "In my anthem, I would only ask the people of China to be brave in the presence of hard times and to continue fighting like lions, so that everyone may see and hear our pride."
After this particular answer, there were no ticks, or disgruntled sighs. Just a row of surprised looks, and a very confused boy sitting in front of them. Handing Yao a pink slip of paper, and congratulating him, the interviewer then signaled to other government officials around the table to take him. Yao never even had time to say goodbye to his parents.
In the northern hills of Jiangsu Province (China), Yao was relocated to live within a small area known as Yīzhì Village [pronounced ing-shay]. It was here, in this tiny community of one room shacks and rural landscape, that he met all of his closest friends; Kiku, Yong Soo and Phuong, in particular. Without a family to call his own, Yao developed an instinctual need to adopt siblings, referring to all of the children in the village as either Xiǎo dìdì (little brother) or Xiǎo mèimei (little sister). Being the oldest out of all of them, he automatically gave himself the highest honor of being called eldest brother, of course.
One evening, just as the sun was setting over the top of the Lingyan mountains, Yao's life was uprooted and altered for a second time. While cooking dinner for his siblings Jia Long and Mei, a large man, covered from head to toe in furs crashed into Yao's small, one-room home, shouting in a rough, foreign language. Instinctually grabbing his wok from the fire, Yao rushed forward to defend his younger kin, swinging his makeshift weapon with all the force he could muster, knocking the other man to the ground.
Spinning around quickly, Yao ushered the two to find safety, while he continued to go help the rest of the family. Upon leaving his home, Yao was struck with horror as his ears were filled with screams of panic, and watched as innocent people were slaughtered before his eyes. "Xiǎo mèimei! Xiǎo dìdì!" he cried, running through the labyrinth of houses and homemade gardens. "Answer me, please!" Coming to halt to catch his breath, Yao's usually calm eyes, widened. Bodies. There were so many bodies ... he bent over one, placing a shaking hand to his mouth, before an excruciating pain came over him, causing him to topple head first into the ground. Struggling to roll himself over, Yao's vision blurred, as hot tears leaked from the corners of his almond-shaped eyes. His attacker only inches away, Yao looked over as Kiku's face came in and out of focus. Feeling his heart sink into the depths of his stomach, Yao could only utter, "Wèishéme? (Why?)", his lip trembling, as darkness began closing in on him.
Yao woke up, several days later, to find himself lying on a small medical stretcher, in a room he had never seen before. His body ached all over, and as he glanced down his torso, tight bandages stretched over his ribs and chest as he filled his lungs with a deep breath of air. Somehow, it all felt strangely familiar ...
With a long recovery process ahead of him, Yao stayed in the home of Chao Douming, a pharmacist and medical practitioner in the village neighboring his own. Through him, Yao found an inner sense of peace, and earnestly took to his herbal remedies and studies. With no news or hearsay of what had happened to his family, however, Yao's comfortable new lifestyle began to nag at him, and he soon made a swift decision to leave, the Mediterranean calling to him ~
Allegiance: The sacred, life-giving Sea is my true home, aru, and would feel most comfortable aboard a ship with my kin.
How They Died: Maybe becoming Communist at such an unstable time had been a mistake, Yao thought solemnly, as he stared across the barren, cracked earth that had once been lush, plentiful farmland. Méiyǒu, surely, this famine can't last forever?
Death seemed to surround Yao at every corner these days; the withered bodies of his people lying in unmarked graves, as more and more of his population succumbed to starvation. Just thinking about it all made his own stomach give an acidifying complaint, causing him to grimace. He hadn't eaten in days, and water was becoming harder and harder to get.
It hadn't always been like this. While it was true that Yao had been struggling economically before the war, his long years of experience had given him time to become accustomed to such things, and he knew undoubtedly that he could handle the storm. It wasn't until all of the violence and bloodshed in Europe had begun filtering out to his surrounding neighbors, that things took a dramatic turn for the worst. Kneading his clothed toes into the ground, the Asian silently cursed at himself for being such a fool. What had he hoped to accomplish by joining the Allies in their fight against the Axis Powers?
Fixing the red armband on his uniform, Yao continued forward, noting that the throbbing aches from hunger were beginning to fade, making him feel lightheaded and weak. He had joined the world powers to help; to show-off his impressive new military consisting of Kuomintang and Communist soldiers. The brunette had thought (foolishly) that with America entering the war, the Allies were assured victory. An easy win. He couldn't understand how it had all backfired.
Japan ... he had come after Yao, a mere shadow of his former-self and merciless. Manchuria fell, and then Hong Kong. One by one China's cities and villages caved to Japan's brutality. Images of the Japanese raping, killing and pillaging thousands of homes, was almost too much for Yao to bear. The brunette had watched as they burnt crops, systematically destroyed all of his Chinese weapons and left him completely defenseless and unable to help his nation.
He kept hoping -- praying -- that one of his Allies would come to his aid. England had investments in Hong Kong, and Russia had always been intrested in acquiring pieces of his land; surely that was enough to get him help? Yao scoffed. He had been wrong for a second time, as he continued to struggle with defeat after defeat. Relief wasn't coming; it was never going to come. The brunette could see that now. The Burma Road had been closed for three years and his Allies were completely cut off from him. It seemed that he would have to face his imminent mortality, alone.
After four thousand years of living, maybe death would come as a relief?
Wandering from empty village to empty village, Yao thought somberly about the other nations who had already disappeared. Whole cultures, some ancient, others modern, gone within a blink of an eye. He felt ashamed of himself. Most of the other countries never even saw their deaths coming, and had fought for every last breath. He, on the other hand, was merely lingering because of his own inadequacies to run his nation. Regrettably, Yao knew his countrymen couldn't hold out much longer against Japan, and that if starvation didn't get him, his younger brother would.
Opting to give his old bones and mind a rest, Yao quickly surveyed the surrounding area, immediately deciding upon an old, knotted tree to be his support. Leaning his back against it, and letting out a weary sigh, he wiped at his heated brow, before stopping to glance up at his at his hand. Yao's dark eyes prickled with tears, as he turned it over to get a closer look. His hands had once been beautiful.
Long, slender and tiny in size, they had been the envy of every noble home within his nation. Whether they were holding a calligraphy brush, or plucking at the strings of his zheng (chinese harp), they had always served him well. But now ... now they were merely bone and spindles; the rounded nails breaking from the lack of protien in his system, and the yellow hue of his skintone, faded.
Yao knew he was being childish for lamenting over such a simple thing, but he couldn't help it. His back sank further and further down the length of the tree, until he was sitting, completely forlorn. He felt listless and tired ... so, so tired. What had happened to the world, his neighbors, his siblings? Korea, Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand and Japan ... he wished he could tell them all how much he regretted not being a better brother.
If I had known it was going to end up like this, I wouldn't have pushed Japan so hard to accept me. I wouldn't have treated you all so badly. I should have done more for you all, I should have told you ... Yao trailed off in his thought, too tired to continue.
The Asian could feel his eyelids drooping, as he began drifting in and out of sleep, without even having to close his eyes fully. If I can just sleep this off, he thought drowsily, his breathing softening. Then everything ... will get better, tomorrow --
Did you read the rules? Who is a Beastie?: Capitan Jack Sparrow.
Country of Origin: People's Republic of China
Gender Male
Age: 27
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 134lbs. I are too too skinny, aru.
Appearance: Wang Yao's outward appearance is extremely feminine, and it is not uncommon for people to mistake him for a girl, (much to his displeasure). He regularly pulls his long, dark brown hair back in the traditional Chinese pigtail, leaving his braid loose to signify his social class, while his long bangs frame his face, and rest on either side of his jawbone. His chocolate, almond-shaped eyes are filled with a certain wisdom beyond his years, and help contribute to his girlish-look. One of Yao's distinguishing features are his calloused and permanently earth-stained hands from cultivating the land since childhood. They, like his feet, are small and thin, and are highly prized as 'beautiful' in his country. A large scar (given to him accidentally by Kiku) decorates his back.
Red is Yao's favorite color, and he loves to add the bright hue to his simplistic wardrobe. On any given day, he'll typically run around in his red (long-sleeved) cheongsam, Manchurian white trousers, bandage-wrapped legs, and cloth shoes.
Crew member of:
Status:
Pet:
Crest:
Personality: Though he is still young, Wang Yao sometimes acts like an old man. His actions are always thought out ahead of time, and he tends to be methodical when working with certain mediums. (ie - silk, clay, etc.) While not a complainer, Yao does tends to grumble about having "old, tired bones" and frequently rubs his neck free of knots. He is hard-working and resourceful, though he has a tendency to sell himself short, often taking only half the amount of pay, (compared with what Europeans or Americans make), while still doing the same amount of hard labor and factory work.
His moods are said to reflect that of yin and yang. Through meditation and training he's able to harmonize with both his male and female sides, causing him to switch between emotions quickly. His highly guarded and superstitious nature makes it hard to for others to understand and connect with him, (save for Phuong), and he rarely shows the optimistic side of his personality to anybody, including family. Most people see a boy who is a reserved, hardworking, and protective (self-proclaimed) elder brother. He can be unknowingly blunt at times, and when confronted, he often insists that he doesn't mean to be rude or judgmental, but helpful. (His siblings will advise others to only ask him questions to which you can stand an honest, unblemished answer).
A lover of peace, warm summers and memorable times, Yao will go out of his way to pick up someone else's slack and disregard his own feelings, just to avoid an argument or confrontation. However, his selfless personality only seems to earn him freeloading relations, rather than best friends.
He is a quick and enthusiastic learner who loves to tackle new projects, and his self-discipline helps him to devote himself entirely toward mastering several different subjects. That being said, however, he easily gets depressed when things tend to be overly difficult for him to pick up, and his expectations (for himself and others) are usually tough to live up to.
Wang Yao likes to act like an older brother toward the other Asian countries, and he likes to place himself in their family trees without asking. He enjoys reading and teaching his siblings how to cook, use kung fu, and read, despite their inability to always get along. He has a respectful fear of Kiku, after being attacked by him, and Yong Soo tends to annoy him, due to his clingy and erratic personality.
Drinking tea, and playing New 'Jong (the classic version of Mahjong is lost among the people of today) are two of his favorite pastimes, and he seems to have a strange liking for cute things, pandas and plushed animals in particular.
History: "Bamboo shoots are easily broken, but they survive because of their capacity to grow past the pain."
Wang Yao was (lucky enough, to be) born as the first son, into a poor farming family, on the edge of the Guangdong province. His birth was celebrated in traditional Chinese fashion, with red paper lanterns hanging from the small doorway of their home, to scrolls placed by his crib granting him a prosperous and healthy life. Unfortunately, his honored position is where his luck runs out, as Yao's life seems to be plagued with nothing but trials.
Growing up, Yao's parents lectured him daily on how to make smart, factor-based decisions, while concerning the needs of the whole family. Waking up early in the morning and continuing on, long into the afternoon, Yao learned how to properly plow, sow and harvest his inheritance. At night, he was often expected to learn how to conduct business, and learn the current trade system, forcing him to go and learn from village elders, as many books had perished in the Cultural Revolution, before his birth.
Yao was nine when government officials came into his village to speak with the youth residing there. Nervous and fearful, Yao's small hands shook violently, as his name was called out. Stepping forward, he bowed his head slightly, before being quickly pulled aside. The small boy felt a bit like a rag-doll, as he was passed from one official to the next, before being sat down on a hard, bamboo chair, facing what looked to be a panel of judges. Yao remembers the oldest interviewer having a stern face, and an intimidating brow, as he peered over his circled glasses at him, looking positively uninterested. Not wasting any time, he proceeded to ask an assortment of odd questions, each being followed with a series of methodical ticks as each of the judges marked something off on their checklists. Sighing, (probably from sheer boredom), Yao's interviewer then asked him something that changed his life forever:
"What is your national anthem?"
" ... we don't have a national anthem."
"Well, enlighten me then, what would it sound like if we did?"
Thinking it over carefully, Yao simply replied, "In my anthem, I would only ask the people of China to be brave in the presence of hard times and to continue fighting like lions, so that everyone may see and hear our pride."
After this particular answer, there were no ticks, or disgruntled sighs. Just a row of surprised looks, and a very confused boy sitting in front of them. Handing Yao a pink slip of paper, and congratulating him, the interviewer then signaled to other government officials around the table to take him. Yao never even had time to say goodbye to his parents.
In the northern hills of Jiangsu Province (China), Yao was relocated to live within a small area known as Yīzhì Village [pronounced ing-shay]. It was here, in this tiny community of one room shacks and rural landscape, that he met all of his closest friends; Kiku, Yong Soo and Phuong, in particular. Without a family to call his own, Yao developed an instinctual need to adopt siblings, referring to all of the children in the village as either Xiǎo dìdì (little brother) or Xiǎo mèimei (little sister). Being the oldest out of all of them, he automatically gave himself the highest honor of being called eldest brother, of course.
One evening, just as the sun was setting over the top of the Lingyan mountains, Yao's life was uprooted and altered for a second time. While cooking dinner for his siblings Jia Long and Mei, a large man, covered from head to toe in furs crashed into Yao's small, one-room home, shouting in a rough, foreign language. Instinctually grabbing his wok from the fire, Yao rushed forward to defend his younger kin, swinging his makeshift weapon with all the force he could muster, knocking the other man to the ground.
Spinning around quickly, Yao ushered the two to find safety, while he continued to go help the rest of the family. Upon leaving his home, Yao was struck with horror as his ears were filled with screams of panic, and watched as innocent people were slaughtered before his eyes. "Xiǎo mèimei! Xiǎo dìdì!" he cried, running through the labyrinth of houses and homemade gardens. "Answer me, please!" Coming to halt to catch his breath, Yao's usually calm eyes, widened. Bodies. There were so many bodies ... he bent over one, placing a shaking hand to his mouth, before an excruciating pain came over him, causing him to topple head first into the ground. Struggling to roll himself over, Yao's vision blurred, as hot tears leaked from the corners of his almond-shaped eyes. His attacker only inches away, Yao looked over as Kiku's face came in and out of focus. Feeling his heart sink into the depths of his stomach, Yao could only utter, "Wèishéme? (Why?)", his lip trembling, as darkness began closing in on him.
Yao woke up, several days later, to find himself lying on a small medical stretcher, in a room he had never seen before. His body ached all over, and as he glanced down his torso, tight bandages stretched over his ribs and chest as he filled his lungs with a deep breath of air. Somehow, it all felt strangely familiar ...
With a long recovery process ahead of him, Yao stayed in the home of Chao Douming, a pharmacist and medical practitioner in the village neighboring his own. Through him, Yao found an inner sense of peace, and earnestly took to his herbal remedies and studies. With no news or hearsay of what had happened to his family, however, Yao's comfortable new lifestyle began to nag at him, and he soon made a swift decision to leave, the Mediterranean calling to him ~
Allegiance: The sacred, life-giving Sea is my true home, aru, and would feel most comfortable aboard a ship with my kin.
How They Died: Maybe becoming Communist at such an unstable time had been a mistake, Yao thought solemnly, as he stared across the barren, cracked earth that had once been lush, plentiful farmland. Méiyǒu, surely, this famine can't last forever?
Death seemed to surround Yao at every corner these days; the withered bodies of his people lying in unmarked graves, as more and more of his population succumbed to starvation. Just thinking about it all made his own stomach give an acidifying complaint, causing him to grimace. He hadn't eaten in days, and water was becoming harder and harder to get.
It hadn't always been like this. While it was true that Yao had been struggling economically before the war, his long years of experience had given him time to become accustomed to such things, and he knew undoubtedly that he could handle the storm. It wasn't until all of the violence and bloodshed in Europe had begun filtering out to his surrounding neighbors, that things took a dramatic turn for the worst. Kneading his clothed toes into the ground, the Asian silently cursed at himself for being such a fool. What had he hoped to accomplish by joining the Allies in their fight against the Axis Powers?
Fixing the red armband on his uniform, Yao continued forward, noting that the throbbing aches from hunger were beginning to fade, making him feel lightheaded and weak. He had joined the world powers to help; to show-off his impressive new military consisting of Kuomintang and Communist soldiers. The brunette had thought (foolishly) that with America entering the war, the Allies were assured victory. An easy win. He couldn't understand how it had all backfired.
Japan ... he had come after Yao, a mere shadow of his former-self and merciless. Manchuria fell, and then Hong Kong. One by one China's cities and villages caved to Japan's brutality. Images of the Japanese raping, killing and pillaging thousands of homes, was almost too much for Yao to bear. The brunette had watched as they burnt crops, systematically destroyed all of his Chinese weapons and left him completely defenseless and unable to help his nation.
He kept hoping -- praying -- that one of his Allies would come to his aid. England had investments in Hong Kong, and Russia had always been intrested in acquiring pieces of his land; surely that was enough to get him help? Yao scoffed. He had been wrong for a second time, as he continued to struggle with defeat after defeat. Relief wasn't coming; it was never going to come. The brunette could see that now. The Burma Road had been closed for three years and his Allies were completely cut off from him. It seemed that he would have to face his imminent mortality, alone.
After four thousand years of living, maybe death would come as a relief?
Wandering from empty village to empty village, Yao thought somberly about the other nations who had already disappeared. Whole cultures, some ancient, others modern, gone within a blink of an eye. He felt ashamed of himself. Most of the other countries never even saw their deaths coming, and had fought for every last breath. He, on the other hand, was merely lingering because of his own inadequacies to run his nation. Regrettably, Yao knew his countrymen couldn't hold out much longer against Japan, and that if starvation didn't get him, his younger brother would.
Opting to give his old bones and mind a rest, Yao quickly surveyed the surrounding area, immediately deciding upon an old, knotted tree to be his support. Leaning his back against it, and letting out a weary sigh, he wiped at his heated brow, before stopping to glance up at his at his hand. Yao's dark eyes prickled with tears, as he turned it over to get a closer look. His hands had once been beautiful.
Long, slender and tiny in size, they had been the envy of every noble home within his nation. Whether they were holding a calligraphy brush, or plucking at the strings of his zheng (chinese harp), they had always served him well. But now ... now they were merely bone and spindles; the rounded nails breaking from the lack of protien in his system, and the yellow hue of his skintone, faded.
Yao knew he was being childish for lamenting over such a simple thing, but he couldn't help it. His back sank further and further down the length of the tree, until he was sitting, completely forlorn. He felt listless and tired ... so, so tired. What had happened to the world, his neighbors, his siblings? Korea, Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand and Japan ... he wished he could tell them all how much he regretted not being a better brother.
If I had known it was going to end up like this, I wouldn't have pushed Japan so hard to accept me. I wouldn't have treated you all so badly. I should have done more for you all, I should have told you ... Yao trailed off in his thought, too tired to continue.
The Asian could feel his eyelids drooping, as he began drifting in and out of sleep, without even having to close his eyes fully. If I can just sleep this off, he thought drowsily, his breathing softening. Then everything ... will get better, tomorrow --
Did you read the rules? Who is a Beastie?: Capitan Jack Sparrow.
