Post by glassmaker on Jun 16, 2009 17:42:06 GMT -6
Your character's full name: Aleoht Glassmaker
Age: 45
Species: Mouse
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Age: 45
Species: Mouse
Gender: Male
Appearance:
The Glassmaker stands at an average 5'7 proportionally -- average for a mouse, anyway. His build isn't necessarily an athletic one. Rather, his build would more likely be considered average than anything else. He isn't weak, nor is he impressively powerful. Were he weak, he would likely find himself a hordebeast, or dead, whichever comes first. On second thought, he is strong, but not too intimidating in that respect.Belongings:
He is covered head to footpaw in jet-black fur, that fades to a soft gray at his belly. It is for this reason that he was named Aleoht; id est, the prefix A-, meaning "lack of," and the word leoht, meaning "light." The color black is usually attributed to darkness, which not only fills Aleoht's heart, but is also a 'lack of light.' Even so, Aleoht has rid himself of his ridiculous name, though it matched his personality so well, and now is only referred to as the Glassmaker, which, although a mirror of his occupation, seems completely irrelevant to his character, history, appearance, and, well, pretty much everything about him. He possesses two, strangely red eyes that reveal not his exact thoughts, but at least the nature of them.
At times, the Glassmaker will wear white clothing, contrasting with his black fur. Usually, this consists of a white tunic, white breeches, white boots, a white belt, a white cloak, and occasionally a white hat of some kind. Of course, he never wears white clothing when he is working.
Other times, he will wear black clothing so as to blend in with something dark, such as a dark cave, the ashes of somebeast's house, the night sky, or any such darkly colored thing he might have to blend in with at some point in time. This usually consists of a black tunic, black breeches, black boots, a black belt, a black cloak, and occasionally a black hat of some kind (sounds a bit familiar). Unlike his white clothing, he may sometimes work while wearing his black clothing -- Stains don't show up as well on black.
As of late, however, he has tended to wear clothing based around the color purple. Id est, a dark blue tunic, dark purple breeches, black boots, a black belt, a darker purple cloak, and a light purple hat. This particular appearance contributes a bit to the rumors of his being insane to some level.
He always carries a long knife made purely of diamond, which he finds useful, as diamond is virtually unbreakable. It is unknown where he obtained so much diamond to craft such a weapon, but the matter isn't usually considered for longer than a few seconds, because the very few beasts who are unfortunate enough to see the knife have little or no time to consider it further. He generally carries with him more knives than simply this one, though, and most are mainly for intimidation. He isn't very skilled with any particular weapon, which is why he isn't usually seen with any weapon other than a knife.Job or Position:
He is a glassmaker, and a weapons-maker. He alternates locations, from the shores of the Western Sea, near Salamandastron, where he makes the glass, and to the fringe of Mossflower wood, where he sells that which he makes.Personality:
Although categorized as vermin, he is far from the stereotype most would give him upon a glance. As a matter of fact, he is rather beyond such a stereotype, and is not some revengeful, unintelligent, single-minded, pathetic hordebeast, nor is he a revengeful, somewhat analytic, treasure-seeking, still pathetic vermin warlord. This particular apple not only fell far from the tree, but felled that very tree in the process, and began a new tree of its own kind. He is both better, and worse than vermin warlords of old, and of new. He is better, in that he sees revenge as mere stupidity created only in the heads of weaker-minded beasts, and that he is in no way, a pathetic excuse for a warlord, by any means. He knows that inside everybeast lurks some kind of evil, and he intends to reveal the presence of such evil in the goodbeasts of Mossflower. He will go to great lengths to show that even the best of the goodbeasts can fall. He is worse, in that he doesn't have any desire whatsoever to improve anybeast's character, or to create any sort of "happiness, sense of safety, kindness, or any other such nonsense." His only motive is that he enjoys watching another beast suffer, especially when that beast causes its own suffering due to its own personal flaws. He also finds glee in turning a beast's plan against him/her, and proving another beast wrong.History and Background Information:
He is considered to be insane, and rightfully so, but it is a mystery as to whether or not he truly is mad. He shows many characteristics of a madbeast at times, but seems to be entirely sane other times. If, in fact, he is insane, it is merely some form of schizophrenia that seems to magnify the dark behaviour he exhibits.
Aleoht was born into a cold world, namely one that was, at the time, experiencing a particularly brutal winter. He was found, and adopted by two goodbeasts, both rabbits. The night he was found, was a particularly snowy night, and one could hardly see beyond two meters. From what Aleoht gathered, he was found in the center of a clearing, his dark fur showing up clearly against the white snow. As for his condition at the time, he never learned.Any other details:
Rabbits, as they were, the two were always very proper, and excessively neat. The world he lived in was one with only two absolute realities: good, and not real. If something was not considered good by his mother's judgment, it wasn't bad, but rather not real. The environment he grew up in was one without evil, and consisted of only the boundaries of their house, that is, a rather wide, hollow tree that appeared as any other tree; without windows, openings, or a noticeable door. His mother never liked the outside world, and its realities. Therefore, the world outside the house was not real. As any dibbun, he accepted this as truth, because to a dibbun, one's mother cannot possibly be wrong. Yes, this was the world he lived in for several seasons, a world his father was forced to create for Aleoht and his mother. Though 'twas obvious to anybeast that his mother was mad, and cruel to keep her adopted dibbun separate from the world, in a world of her own creation, in which did not exist anything she disliked, Aleoht could not find a single flaw in his mother, because flaws were not real.
This kept on for the first nineteen seasons of Aleoht's life, until one day, his idiot of a father had reached his limit. He stormed from the house, attempting to take Aleoht with him, declaring that he had had enough of the false realities Aleoht's mother had created (though honestly, he had figured it all out only four hours earlier). He had taken not two steps from the house when she came upon him, stabbing him multiple times with a kitchen knife. All the while, Aleoht watched. He couldn't believe his own eyes. His father was dead, but he couldn't possibly be dead -- death wasn't real. Mother couldn't be wrong. Wrong, wasn't real. But she had killed him, and he was dead, but if death was real, then his mother was wrong, which meant wrong was real, and she was wrong, and if she was wrong, then she was flawed, but flaws weren't real either. His mind spun, and his thoughts raced as his mother's reality was broken before his very eyes. What else was she wrong about? First of all, he was outside. If death was real, wrong was real, and flaws were real, then the outside world was probably real too. After all, he was outside. There was but one way to find out.
Before his insane "mother" could reach him, Aleoht was sprinting away, attempting to run as far as this new reality would let him. That day, he would finally enter the outside world, and he would enter it naive.
Aleoht spent the next fourteen seasons in the outside world, finding that death, and flaws were all too real. He found that even the kindest of creatures were flawed, and each of them had some sort of evil lurking in them. It seemed as though each of them tried to hide this evil, as though it didn't exist. Aleoht had long ago rid himself of the realities of the world his mother had created for him, and was disgusted that everybeast seemed to unintentionally try to bring that world back, hiding what they didn't like so that it became 'not real' to them. He had hated his mother since the day she killed his father, and after fourteen seasons of living away from her, he found that every other beast was hardly different than she. To him, they were all just like her. He then decided to show everybeast that what they concealed, and looked upon as not real, was indeed real. Even the best of the goodbeasts could fall. He would start with his mother. The plan was simple, and he could execute it alone.
He set the house to fire, and waited at the door. He had always been taught that fire wasn't real, and finally he would be able to watch the teacher discover reality. Unfortunately, she did not notice the fire. As a matter of fact, she hardly moved at all. She simply slept in her chair, just as she had done every day at this hour. Aleoht stormed off, seething with hatred. Even in the face of reality, she would not accept it. And everybeast else was the same. They were all the same, and would all have to face up to reality one way or another, even if it killed them.
. . . Later, he gave to himself the surname Glassmaker, and lived up to it by making and selling ornaments and weapons near the shores of the Western Sea. He had no real reason for becoming a glassmaker, at least, none that followed any determinable path of logic. Nevertheless, Glassmaker is what, and whom he became. He traded that which he crafted to vermin "warlords" who happened to pass by. He made a living out of it, and had soon gained their trust. He had sold to only three different "warlords," or so they liked to call themselves, because of the scarcity of vermin in Mossflower. Even so, he knew each of them well, judging by their behaviour, and the manner in which each reacted. These vermin-creatures appeared superior to the goodbeasts in the Glassmaker's eyes, because they seemed the only ones who did not hide their darker sides. As a matter of fact, they could be honest to a fault, in a manner of speaking. They would make good pawns.
(I do apologize. I'm not much of a writer.)Code Words: Removed by Skipper, do not replace.
