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| Jahko Gharkin; The Wanderer | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Feb 14 2013, 10:16 PM (413 Views) | |
| Jiggity | Feb 14 2013, 10:16 PM Post #1 |
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General Full Name:Jahko Gharkin Alias: The Wanderer Kingdom:He refuses to bow to any authority Gender: Male Age: 35 Race: Human Birthday: He forgot years ago Elemental Affinity: Wind Psionic School: N/A Currently Items on Hand: A several inch long, thin stone with a long groove spiraling around it that serves as his medium. It is bound into a leather bracer on his forearm so it is constantly in contact with his skin. Weapons: He carries none and cannot use any. Aspirations: His only goal in life is to serve the wind. Current Occupation: Traveler Home: None Workplace: None Pets: None Looks Appearance: He is emaciated and leathery from long, long hours meditating and focusing on the air around him. His eyes are very slightly clouded, but the sky blue still shows through clearly. His eyesight seems unimpaired despite this. The only clothes he wears are a simple pair of shorts, unwilling to let more cloth separate him from the air. He does wear a leather bracer on his left arm. He doesn't consider it clothing because it contains his medium, keeping it in contact with his skin both for comfort and because at one point it was almost stolen. His Luxarian heritage shows in his long silver hair, bound back from his face in a ponytail that reaches the small of his back. He never cut it in the desert, and never bothered to change it from its natural length. He just tops 5'10'', though both of his parents were taller. It is likely that malnourishment stunted his growth somewhat, since his diet was scanty and unbalanced. His muscles, though not large, tend to stand out since his skin is stretched tight over his frame. Clothing: A pair of shorts and his medium bracer Mentality Personality: Jhako seems rather distant to most people, and his eerie eyes only further the impression. He has no desire for personal wealth or property, and wanders the world, furthering what he sees as the interests of the wind. This is a mix of things; a good summary is his belief that it is a force for equality, and thus he defends against prejudiced persecution and works to overthrow oppressors. More recently he was introduced to Elencia by a priest he met in his travels and decided to follow her in a secondary capacity. He doesn't treat her as his god, but rather as the highest representative of his god. The wind is his god, and she is more analogous to the pope. He tends to distrust technology, though he's not sure why. He is slightly mad, and this is the only known inconsistent quirk that arises from it. Not that he has no other quirks, just that they make up the rest of his personality and are consistent with each other. Likes: He is obsessive about serving the air, and enjoys the wind and warmth. Dislikes: Tyrants, oppression Talents: His control over auria has reached the point where the air around him seems to be an extension of his will. He is also extraordinarily good at survival in the wilderness, and resistant to heat and cold. Inabilities: He has no skill with weapons of any kind, or indeed any craft. Fears: Being unable to feel moving air. He has a near phobia of being underground. Internal Affairs Family: He was part of a small nomadic tribe in the Myrioda Desert. They were all killed in a massive, unpredicted sandstorm. History: A nomad in the desert, he at first refused to deal with his elemental talent, believing it to be an unfortunate complication in life. His dream was to be a powerful psion, but it was not to be. While he thought he was working to improve his psionic talents, he had been misinformed and was instead strengthening his elemental affinity. Soon after he uncovered his elementalist talents, a massive sandstorm struck as his family was preparing to travel. He was the only survivor. Stricken with grief, his mind could only perceive this as a message. He had rejected the air, and it had not taken kindly. It was not quite logical, but then he was barely twelve and everything he had ever known had been destroyed. It was hardly surprising that the event drove him slightly mad. And so he walked deeper into the desert to prepare himself to serve his new master. He survived the harsh desert on his own for years, every spare ounce of flesh being stripped away until his skin was leathery and stretched tight over cords of muscle and sinew. He spent a minimal amount of time ensuring he survived, having found a small oasis that provided just enough to keep him alive. A diet of water with the fruit of the trees being slowly consumed, along with the occasional animal that came to eat at the oasis. He never had much, and as it was he was malnourished enough to stunt his growth and erase any trace of fat from his body. Most of his time was spent out under the hot, harsh sun, enduring the hot winds as he meditated and communed with the wind he believed he was called to serve. Finally, he found his medium and discovered that it made his auria manipulation orders of magnitude easier. With his newfound strength, he left the desert, and wanders the world serving his master, the air. Roleplay Sample: Jahko knelt to sip at the small pool that sustained the oasis, and as an extension, himself. Something, he couldn't say what, caught his eye and he reached out to pull the object out of the sand. It was a stone, smooth and black and about as long as his hand. As he looked closer, he saw a groove that spiraled tightly around it the beginning and end on the small ends. It was captivating for him. The groove seemed impossibly smooth and his fingers couldn't stop tracing it as he turned it over, spellbound as all thoughts of hunger and thirst drifted away. Unconsciously he began a flow of air over it, exerting his will over his auria and molding the air to follow his fingers. And then he sunk his will into the stone instead and the world changed. What before had taken a noticeable effort simply happened. His eyes widened abruptly and a hoarse sound burst from his throat praising the wind that gifted him with the ability to work for it. A hand clenched tight around his newfound medium, though he did not know the term, he fed his will into it and through it into the world around him. A sudden wind sprung up around him, whirling first over his skin and throwing his hair out in all directions before expanding out, and out, and out. It seemed like he could do anything. The wind was picking up sand now and he clenched his fists tighter, exerting his mental powers more strongly and focused into a tighter point. The whirl became a drill and drove into the sand dunes, burrowing deeper and deeper. The sand was spouted up and around as the wind went deeper and deeper, until finally with a curt motion of his hand, the man stopped it. There was a deep hole in the sand near the oasis now, and without a second thought Jahko turned and walked away from where he had lived for the past twenty years. He was being called. Edited by Jiggity, Feb 14 2013, 11:42 PM.
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