Basic Information
| Level: |
3
|
| Race: |
Attuned
|
| Nationality: |
Outlander
|
| Citizenship: |
|
| Profession |
Infirmary Receptionist
|
| Organisation(s) |
|
Character Information
| Face Claim: |
Thomas Brodie-Sangster
|
Strength: |
12
/30 |
| Age: |
29 (Deepfrost 287 PC) |
Dexterity: |
18
/30 |
| Height: |
5'11"
|
Endurance: |
12
/30 |
| Weight: |
160lbs
|
Luck: |
12
/30 |
| Gender: |
Male
|
Intuition: |
0 /3 |
| Orientation: |
Homosexual
|
Deity Alignment: |
|
| Relationship Status: |
Single
|
Appearance
Dodge is a wily sort of young man, with long limbs and a lean build. He's about average in height, and has enough muscle mass that's befitting of a Storm Guard ranger. The majority of his strength is condensed into his back, core, shoulders, and arms. While his legs can hold a single position for hours on end, their power does not compare to that of his upper body, honed to be a master archer. Dodge’s eyes are a warm almond brown, often shining with humor. At rare times, his gaze is stormy and his dazzling smile isn't so bright, but the appearance of Dodge almost always means laughter will follow.
Personality
Dodge is full of life and smiles and laughter. He has a way of brightening whatever mood may be around him, always the one to crack a joke. He’s fine with making himself the butt of every joke, as long as someone is laughing, right? He’s got the obvious habits and idiosyncrasies of a street rat - poor manners, food hoarding, staying out of sight… and a bit of a pick-pocketing problem. He’s gotten better on it, he swears! And he certainly hasn’t lightened any pockets since arriving in Northaven! Well, there was that one time.. But truly, Dodge is a trustworthy man. He isn’t afraid of lying, and he’s certainly good at it, but he only does so when it’s required of him. Back in Northwind, when he actually had a job, he was the master of his craft. So? That meant lying. A lot. When it comes to people he loves and cares about, honesty is his policy. Mostly. Ehem. Speaking of people he loves! Dodge has a bit of a loyalty complex. He’s got some abandonment issues, so he gets very attached very fast. Many find it overpowering, but it doesn’t phase him much. He’s always so fun to be around, most people just put up with his… eccentric ways. Dodge has always had a deep-seeded fear of rejection, so his comedic demeanor and often degrading himself is his own form of self defense against the scorn. He is, after all, quite the outcast. It’s too easy to hate who he really is.
History
Lysander Khrysopos, esteemed third born child of the Khrysopos Clan. He was born two years following his eldest brother, Cassius, and a year after his sister, Felicity. His parents, Amrys and Ferdinad Khrysopos, were both esteemed blueblood originals that had seated their personal kingdom in an outer city of the Northwind empire. Countess Amrys was blessed in the art of alteration magic, while Ferdinad was renowned for his ability as a conjurer. None of the Khrysopos children possessed a hint of magic, but no matter. Their blood was pure and strong, magic was not needed for such things as status and prestige.
While Lysander was the youngest of the three children, only born a year apart each, his schooling and training was vigorous. He never did get on well his parents, or his sister for that matter, but his eldest brother was someone he would have followed to the ends of the earth. The children did everything together, from school, to training, to playing, to social events. While they did have their qualms, they were siblings, and they loved each other.
Lysander had a relatively uneventful childhood, truth be told. All was as a traditional blueblood upbringing was meant to be. He always did have a rebellious streak, and he certainly loved to make people laugh, but he was charming and affectionate at his heart. His uncanny ability to imitate others impersonate them almost flawlessly was always a sure way to get others to smile hugely and shake their heads at him. He was such a gem to be around, the adults would say, so full of laughter. It wasn’t until around puberty that he began to realize something was… different.
While Cassius was off tormenting girls with his silly attempts at romance, Lysander found himself mooning after young men much in the same way his sister did. He knew it was off, that it should be girls that caught his eye but.. He did everything he could to hide it, to bury it deep, but he could not muster up any attraction for the girls thrown his way. It seemed that he wasn’t hiding it well enough of course, considering a beautiful young man by the name of Whitney took a liking to him.
He was so overjoyed to have found another boy like him. An attractive boy that appeared to like him, at that! The fourteen year old young lads had a thrilling relationship, from open and happy friendship to sneaking away into hidden places for stolen kisses, to leave with wildly beating hearts and swollen lips. Lysander almost would have dared say he was in love with Whitney, what with his pitch black eyes, umber skin, and wild hair. His grin could have melted all of winter, and his laugh, and the way he was so educated, loving books and reading in the sunshine no matter how cold it might be. Whitney was, perhaps, Lysander’s first love.
Until they were caught.
It was by a professor at their school, of course. The deep sense of panic and dread since that moment when Whitney ripped his mouth away, both of them blinded by light… he’s not sure it ever left him. Of course their parents were told. Lysander wept the entire way home, completely at a loss at how he could live like this, live without Whitney. It was like his heart was being squeezed by claws within his chest, and it hurt to breathe. He only just managed to pull himself together when he arrived home.
Cassius was the one who greeted him at the carriage and helped him bring his bags indoors. Felicity would not look at him, would not speak to him, but she’d always been a bit of a priss. It was his big brother that gave him a crushing hug and a kiss on the head before Lysander went into his father’s study.
He was yelled at, degraded, told he was an abomination. It stung, salt in the wound of losing Whitney. He’d never see the boy again, they said. His parents were taking him away. They told him he was a disgrace, an embarrassment, a stain on the Khrysopos name… and so he was no longer welcome within their family. It was that proclamation that came like a punch to the gut. He stood stunned before his parents, both of them looking down at him like an unpleasant bug, and he knew that he had no place there. Not with who he truly was.
He left that night without even the chance to say goodbye to Cassius or Felicity.
He was given a single briefcase of belongings - a couple changes of clothing, a blanket, a small bit of food, and his water flask. It was all he could fit. He spent a little bit for a night in a cheap in, but he was a smart enough boy to realize that he could only get so far in a city that the Khrysopos family run. The next day, he managed to use his charm to convince a merchant to give him a ride to the capital. Surely he could find work there!
The merchant was kind enough, allowing him to stay in his wagon in exchange for minor work along the trip. By the time they reached the city, though, Lysander become all too aware of the man’s… quirks. He was a very corrupt, a dark man that had no problem with crushing people beneath his feet to get what he wanted. So, he parted ways with the man in the city, nothing but his coat and his briefcase in tow.
He was so sure he’d find work. He was a talented boy, right? It soon became apparent that there was far too much a surplus of “talented boys” in the capital of Northwind, and there was no work to be found. And so? He soon understood what it meant to suffer the hardships of street life, and his sexual orientation certainly mattered less. Food was scarce, and beggars often earned more kicks and spit than coin. Performing brought in a little more revenue - doing flawless imitations of peoples voices, impersonating whatever figure someone asked him to. His talent in becoming someone else entirely wowed the crowds, had some accusing him of illusion magic! But of course, he’d merely reason that he would not be a street performer if he’d had any arcane magic within him.
Still, even performing could not feed him enough, could not shelter him from the winter. And so, Lys fell in with the street urchins of the nearest slum. It was nice to be apart of a community, even one such as that. He earned the name Dodge there, with how easy it was for him to lift pockets and evade detection. His almost uncanny ability to completely mimic any voice and behave like any person proved valuable to the street crew, but it was not an easy life.
He made a particularly close friend when he was sixteen, a smarmy young man by the name of Scratch. Scratch was fearless and passionate, ambitious and always looking to steal bigger things, diamonds glimmering in his eyes. He never questioned anything, and he grinned and laughed at the world like it was his own personal joke. Dodge didn’t question it when Scratch kissed him, either. He only fell in love.
Scratch and Dodge were inseparable and did everything together. They complimented each other so well, Dodge distracting with his impersonations while Scratch did the theft. Scratch taught him archery too, told him that some kind of combat besides fists and teeth needed to be known. Dodge was a natural, the passion and pride from Scratch was enough to make him feel like a king. Life was good in the slums with this man, life was so real and raw and loose.
Until it wasn’t.
Now eighteen, Dodge awoke one morning alone, sunlight filtering into their tiny, rag-covered hovel with the loneliest golden glow. The bed was empty. There was no one there, no sign of Scratch to be seen, as if he’d never been. Dodge was frantic, tearing apart their little place. Nothing. Not even a sock. He’d run into the streets, asking everyone if they’d seen him. “Scratch!” he wailed. He searched for hours. All over the city, all of their places and hides. He searched into the night, the next day. A week. Two weeks. A month. Still, he searched for the man he’d given his entire heart to.
Gone. Scratch was gone.
The world grew dull, after that. Less color. Less light. Things didn’t seem to matter so much. He still did his mimics, his impersonations, to get the money and food he needed. He still practiced with the recurve longbow Scratch had made himself. He still made everyone laugh, still was the brightest, funniest man anyone could encounter… But something was broken. The world wasn’t right anymore. Scratch had gone, and he was alone.
He passed by a recruitment table one afternoon in one of the city’s many courtyards, this one particularly crummy. He’d seen hundreds like them, offering the chance at glory and greatness and pay to go and fight in the war for Northwind. He never went for it - he was no soldier. But this table they offered something different: A new life. Become a shapechanger! They called. Change everything, your whole life! Find a trade, become indispensable to Northwind and join the Storm Guard!
He’d frozen on the spot. Become a shapechanger. He’d never considered such a thing, having come from a bluebood family (weird, when did I last think of the Khrysopos?). But… why not? He had no family, no name, no one to even miss him. So he signed his name, spoke to the recruiter, and an appointment was set for the ritual.
He was given room and board for the night! He couldn’t believe it. And food. For the food that would not spoil right away, he stashed it in his briefcase. Old habits, and all that. Otherwise, he enjoyed his evening in luxury (as if military barracks were luxurious), before his life was changed forever. He doesn’t remember a whole lot of the next day - the transformation had been disorienting. Still, he became immensely proud of his new form as a coyote.
Within the Storm Guard, he earned a place of respect. His skill with the longbow granted him the usual position of a ranger. His incredible skill in impersonations, however, earned him the responsibility of becoming an infiltrator and spy as well. He had a job, a real job! Yes, his manners and habits left much to be desired, but he was a good soldier.
One assignment brought him something he never expected to find again - someone to love. True, he had no romantic feelings for the man, but he loved him. The soldier came to his attention the day the fire-breathing soldier saved Dodge’s worthless life. Since that moment, he refused to leave the man's side. Dodge had expected the blueblooded elemental to grow tired of him, but he never did. Dodge followed him around and protected him like the most loyal dog that ever lived, finding true friendship and comfort in the man. He admired him to no end, the soldier was his hero. He would not leave the only person he had that cared about him.
When their unit was attacked and slaughtered, Dodge and his savior were the only two to survive, thanks to the fire-and-air wielding fighter. This earned them both a period of time going home, a break from battle and warfare. Since Dodge had nowhere to go… he went with the soldier. Little did he know, that the man had procured not only passage for himself, but for Dodge as well, through the portal and to the new settlement. When he asked the man how he managed to convince them to take a nameless shapechanger? "I vouched for you. Your mimicry and skill are invaluable. Told them it's both of us or niether of us." And so… after the man took care of some business, they were off.
Now here in Northaven, Dodge continues his profession as a ranger for the Storm Guard, not having had a need for his mimicking talents here. He keeps his homosexuality to himself, of course, else he may have never been allowed in the settlement in the first place. Only his friend from the field knows, and Dodge wonders how long he can keep it that way...
Other
A rough estimate of this character's damage potential is as follows:
HP: 36
Unarmed strike:6
Physical attack with a basic weapon/attuned shifts: 16
Physical attack with an upgraded weapon/attuned shifts: 26
Physical attack with a mastered weapon/attuned shifts: 36
Magical attack with basic magic/mythical shifts: 16
Magical attack with upgraded magic/mythical shifts: 26
Magical attack with mastered magic/mythical shifts: 36
Coyote | Aardwolf
Abilities
Citizenship Ability
Items
Companion
Player Post Count: 1,553
KQs: 0
PQ+s: 0
Mini Events: 0
SWEs: 1
PQs: 0
Player MP:
0
| Dodge's Threadlog |
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| Thread |
Participants |
Posts |
Last Post |
| New World, Old Wounds in Infirmary on 11-28-2018 |
Isla |
3 |
Last post by Isla on 12-02-2018 |
| [SWE] Where Angels Fear to Tread in Skyport on 11-04-2018 |
Court Official, Edrei, Elyna, Ronin, Remi, Isla, Vervain, Koel, Loren, Mimora, Moses-Joel, Feirsanbrus, Amaya1, Celosia, Ashetta, Delphine, Kalt, Enigma, Zariah, Roana, Phoebe, Vanya, Beatrix, Edera, Devrum, Alistair, Archebold, Sarya |
71 |
Last post by Sarya on 11-22-2018 |
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