Post by willoweve on Mar 23, 2014 6:27:15 GMT
Name: Dorian Byrne
Class:
Firesinger
Weapon:
Cinder (Sword currently enshrouded in thin but persistent embers)
Dorian is fast and accurate for dispatching small bursts of fire from his extremities. He does not get burned by fire but likewise, water is a disaster for him. He has to take what he calls "fire showers" to cleanse himself, basically blasting a force of flames to incinerate the dirt off of him. He can control fire but is limited to the conditions around him. If conditions are dry and land is brittle, there is no guarantee he won't start the whole damn place on fire. Woops...
He is able to materialize Cinder, an old heirloom passed down his family line. The potential for this sword is grand, however, his skills in manipulating the power within is slim. He has a long way to go before this sword becomes anything more than an burning butter knife. He has skills in sword-wielding but he's still just starting out.
Age: 19
Sex:
Height & Weight:
5'11" (180 cm) 147 lbs (66 kg)
Personality:
||Quick to Judge || Snarky || Hot-headed || y || Rude ||Awkward || Clingy||
Background:
Dorian was a wild child, and an even worse young adult. His innocence protected his mind and heart from his growing addiction of fire, but everyone in his family clan knew it'd show up some time. They worried, always, while the boy just kept having fun, blind of the dark world lurking inside of him while being in such a peaceful place as Iksha. He climbed everything, grew stealthy in pretending to hunt, unknowingly practicing the demonic, barbarian instincts of his half-ancestors of a small but dangerous fire tribe. He always loved to chase things, kill small animals for fun, and basically be a complete ass of a child. The pleasure of burning things was something he couldn't understand. He wasn't getting what he wanted from the small animals he tousled with. As he grew older, the hunger for something so much more began to tug within him, and soon he realized what exactly he sought. His pureblood relatives, on either side, avoided him for this risk. They wanted to know which side would consume him- the light or dark.
As he was confronted about it several times by the family clan's leader, his grandfather, he refused to pick one or the other. He loved his mother, her sweetness, her kindness and warmth, but he also loved his father and his thrilling way of life on the wild side. He couldn't choose and the fact of which he hadn't only granted him more suffering as time went on, temptations for both rising higher and higher, battling within him to give either way. But he wouldn't.
Upon Dorian's tenth birthday marked the Coming of Age ceremony within his family clan. He did not have much of a party, and his only gift was the immense pain of their Class's signature mark being burned upon his back. With this tattoo, he'd proven himself to be a willing member of their clan and class. And so the following days, Dorian began his intense Firesinging training- a long practiced ceremony passed down from generations even long after the curse of fire eluded the family until now.
But he sucked. Completely.
Dorian's grandfather was appalled to witness the son of his own son fail so much as lift an ember from his finger tip when he was supposedly "cursed". And when he could rise a flame, it'd slip from his fingers and sizzle away. Dorian's control over fire was pathetic, a disgrace to the entire family. The neighborhood kids laughed at his feeble practices for knowing he's the "special child" and told him many times he'd be a better Icedancer around here than any Firesinger.
Inevitably, his practices were so embarrassing that the family clan finally punted him out of here. He was given a one night's warning of the sudden eviction and no one in the family seemed to care but his mother. As his mother weeped throughout the night, Dorian snuck into the basement of their home, stealing an ancient heirloom currently belonging to his father- the sword known as Cinder. He left before dawn without giving any goodbye, and searched for ways to train, gain power, and to find himself. He'd made a solemn vow to do whatever it took to prove himself to his clan, and will not return unless he can fully, satisfyingly, do so.
Additional:
When he sneezes, fire shoots out.
When he's pissed, literal steam can come out of his ears/nostrils LOL
He has a bad habit of not knowing how to control himself. He sets things on fire CONSTANTLY.
He has small but noticeable fangs.
He has pointed ears.
When it rains, he gets sick. Sometimes it's as bad as the flu.
His skin is warmer to the touch than average.
A fever would never harm him naturally, but under the circumstances of getting caught in the rain, the humidity around him is damaging enough to feel.
Likes/Dislikes:
+ ||Spicy food|| Fighting || Proving himself || Getting stronger || Playing with fire (he's a pyromaniac LOL) || animals ||kids || Dancing/partying || Doing stupid guy things (rough-housing, wrestling, placing bets, pulling pranks, etc)||
- || Nosy people || Being wrong ||Feeling weak || water || Being outsmarted || His growing addiction to magic || feeling alone || Bugs || Old people (they creep him out)||
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Dorian & Artwork (c) Me [Willow-eve.deviantart.com]