Character Name: Edorta sem'Argi
Canon/Original: Canon
Gender: He is of both genders. Although he is physically a male his features are feminine and he has two spirits: a male and a female.
Age: 19 Years Old
Family:
Father: Argi sem'Aitor
Mother: Aintza Aitor'alab
Spirit:: Water Spirit for the Female, Fire Spirit for the Male
Occupation: Camp Guard // Hunter
Place of Habitation: Ekaini
Physical Description:
Edorta has long hair that is an ebony shade of black with natural deep auburn highlights. Multi layered, it is usually well styled and kept down over his thin shoulders. He keeps it cut with a sword when he feels that it has gotten too long.
His eyes are almond shaped eyes that are always dancing with a smile. They are a lovely mix of color: one is a light, golden brown while the other is a dark, earth rich brown. His eyes are thickly lashed and seem to be open to the world around him.
He is only five foot three inches tall and weighs one hundred five pounds. With a lean, androgynous body to complete his figure.
When eyes first meet those that belong to Edorta one would think of how completely clueless he looks. His eyes hold nothing but innocence and he is timid.
Even though he's not a perfect boy and has managed to live through his life in a fine pace, respecting his mother and father and the Earth around him, He is very optimistic (almost to the point of it being annoying). With Edorta the old saying is proven true: Dynamite comes in very small packages.
Personality:
Edorta is a sweet boy.
He has many ups and downs to him. If someone is willing to get to know the boy they will realize that he is very, very self reliant and enjoys being out there on his own. He likes to be the one to control himself and the second he loses control of a situation he will freak out. He does not really have an easily excitable temper. Generally, his emotions are worn on his sleeve, meaning he'll tell you what is wrong if something is bothering him, or even if he's thrilled.
He's a crier. When he's frustrated or upset or even angry he'll cry. And sometimes he will question his tears out loud, which only makes it worse because he doesn't know what the tears are for.
Edorta is usually very happy and willing to spend time with children, playing games and acting foolish.
He is loyal, kind and always cling to those he cares for is how he shows his love for an individual.
He would never fight without his long bow. He knows damn well that he wouldn't make it in a fight, so he prefers to use his weapons.
Something else seems to stun people: he has the unique ability to slip in between moods and barriers. One moment he might seem like a male ready for war, and the next he might look and feel completely harmless due to his dual spirits, a female and a male, residing within his body. He will argue with himself and even hold full conversations without a care who hears him. Some people would call this insane, but those of his home people call it holy.
History:
When he was in fetal development he was meant to have a twin sister. Something went wrong in the process, which created the two spirited male that was to be born in mid Winter, nineteen years ago. His dual spirits were not made known until his third year of life when he began to talk to himself. Not a little bit, but whole conversations that spanned for minutes, maybe even hours. The boy was always odd, but the dual spirits that resided within his small frame made him "holy" to the Ekaini people that lived around him.
His mother always handled him with care when she realized that it was not just another spirit within him, but a female spirit. He was spoken to, even as a child, as an equal, which led many of the other children that he tried to make friends slightly resentful of him. This, in time, would cause an odd reaction to kindness that would eventually fade out.
His childhood was spent like many others. His father took time to teach him how to handle a short sword, an ax, and a long bow. His skills soared at the long bow, which made him feel accomplished.
While his male side learned these trades from his father, the female spirit took to learning things from her mother. She would teach Edorta how to weave baskets and make clothing, how to cook and create things with her hands, like any woman would do.
There was never a doubt that his body was male, but when he was feeling more feminine he would wear the traditional woman's clothes. They weren't much different than the clothes of the men, only more decorated with jewelry and beads that he found quite appealing to his tastes.
He never had been one of the many that had to plan on going to war with other places. He was part woman, so he would have to stay and protect the women. This was the job that he handed himself to make sure that he was always doing something that was important.
When thirteen summers had passed he went on his vision quest. One week was the time that usually passed. Three days after he was suppose to return he did so. His mind had captured something, both of them had captured in it the spirit in which they were. The male side, strong willed and stubborn, and yet useful, was fire; the female side, in all her wisdom and kindness, and yet power, was water.
A paradox within his own body.
Summers faded to winters and Edorta continued to live as his father had taught him to do, independently, with his female side as a constant companion.
He went through his first few adult years trying to find a place that was his; a place where he could fit in and do a good job. The men said he didn't have to hunt with them, the women said that he didn't have to do their chores with them. Both spirits longed greatly to be a part of their respective parents' lives so they alternated. One day they'd do things with the men, the next things with the women. He became quite wide spread during these times and found himself lacking the desire to do much of anything when he didn't have time.
His mother, of course, worried for his health, saying that if he worked so hard at doing everything he'd find himself sick. So, he set it up so that one week he worked with the men and another with the women, counting eight moons in between each alternation, one of which was dedicated to rest so that he didn't find himself so exhausted.
One Spring, in Edorta's seventeenth year, a young lass found herself playing with a set of ducks beside the lake in which the men of the village fished. Doing laundry there with his mother, Edorta's eyes lay upon the small frame of a baby duck. It flapped around helplessly, which upset the female spirit within him. He and the child took the baby duck and the little girl kept it close to her.
Of course, it was not a conventional pet, which frustrated the parents of the girl, but they allowed her to keep the baby duck until it grew up and flew away.
It was then that he found his lover for helping people.
He never really fell in love, although many hopefuls of both male and female gender were proposed he said no to each, and, to his mother's astonishment, said that he was meant for something better. The Shaman had told him a Summer before that he wouldn't know his love when they'd met, and that he would meet when it was least expected.
And he did believe it.
During his eighteenth year he trained with the men, pushing his skills with an ax further than they had been before. When he finally was able to say that he had accomplished something he was told that he was in charge when the men left. They would not allow him to go on hunts with them or to battles if they ever had the need to fight, but he would be the protector of the tribe when the men were away.
This boosted Edorta's ego and made him feel not only more human, but more accepted within his society. The female side was pleased to get to stay home with the women rather than do any more straining physical labor.
During the last half of his eighteenth year a small love bloomed. This love was not a traditional love between spirits, but when he lay eyes on a passing figure in one of the ceremonies of peace between the two tribes he swore that the person he saw would be his love.
Only after asking did he find out the identity of the male that he had seen: Xanti sem'Zeru. Dangerous, beautiful, and strong, he was perfect.
So Edorta's thoughts became one sided: "How could he get the man of his dreams? '
Plot Potential:
| QUOTE |
| He'll soon fall in love with Xanti, son of the Zerui Warlord... or at least lust... or perhaps he's just toying with Xanti? Who knows; somehow he'll be the one to persuade him to leave behind his people. |
While he is a Canon character, I intend to have him be a defender of the Village when the men go off to fight. He'll stay to protect the women and children.
SAMPLE RP:
| QUOTE |
It wasn't fear that seized over him, making him cautious, he wasn't afraid of this lovely city, as he saw it it was quite beautiful. The boy was sure that he could actually trust a few people here because it was lovelier than he'd imagined, but he wasn't completely sure about getting to stay around for more than a few moments in one place. He wished that he'd brought Pom, his dear horse that had always been there for him, that had been by his side since he was a pony, a sweet, sweet pony that had been loyal and kind to him as much as he'd been kind to him. He was gentle, due to the breeding of his mother with a little mare.
The male beside him seemed an alright sort. He stood relaxed, as if he could fall asleep there on the wall, so he wasn't quite sure why his body had tensed near him, causing him discomfort and spiking his temper. He had a bad one. He didn't know why his temper was so easy to spark, but he was able to keep it in check and swallow it if he had to do so. He could almost hear his ears ringing from swallowing that small dose of anger in one bound. It was dangerous, not to mention irresponsible for him to do so, but he learned that people didn't like him when he was angry, and he had to have people like him... or else he didn't know what he'd do. If he had to live with people looking at him as his father did... he could swallow that... but he couldn't stomach hatred toward him. Sure, he was the unacknowledged child of an affair from the carpenter of his small town in Ashton, but his father, a former Knight, had claimed him from love of his mother.
Of course, having children that looked as different as night and day had him pretty much figured out around their small area. Especially when the boy was the spitting image of his father when he was a youth. Pale blonde hair versus his brother's dark brown. Lime green eyes against black brown eyes. Pale white skin in all weather versus the lightly tanned skin of his strong, larger brother while his build was tiny, meek and childish. They were different, that was what they did.
And while the people couldn't say anything to Falke's face because of his apparent relation to the lowly carpenter, they did manage to sneer. But his brother had snarled back at them, telling them to, quite simply "Flip off" and that he couldn't stand it when they looked at him like a fool.
Once the distance was safe between them and there was some comfort between them, the boy closed his eyes, feeling some of the previous tension that had sailed straight into his gut come out of him in a whisper of the night, making him feel better, to know that he was safe and that he had time to draw his weapon -though he doubted there was any good in doing so against this other male whom was larger and stronger than he was- if the need arose to do so. It made him comfortable, it made him feel better, even just a little bit.
The boy was happy. The boy was able minded, and optimistic. He couldn't stand the idea of fighting on the street, but he was thinking about joining the Tourney for some fun. It seemed like it would be all well and good.
Of course, he was greeted. The boy turned his face to where his profile that could be seen and he smiled at him, shyly, withdrawn. he couldn't be to attached to someone that he had met in the city. And friends for Lord Falke Wyatt came few and far between. He didn't make them very well and when he did make friends they were close to him for a while, but ultimately admitted to disliking him completely and walking away from his friendship and kindness and then he'd have to run to his brother, the person that loved him above all others, save his mother, for the comfort that he needed.
"And greetings to you, Lord." He spoke, and, just to be formal, he turned to face him. "I am Lord Falke Wyatt of Ashton." he informed him, giving him a bow of formal greeting, the customary bow of a youth to their elder, respectful and kind toward him. He should give someone larger and stronger a reason to attack him when he knew all he could do was defend for only a brief moment before being killed. He knew his own limits and a strength was being able to admit it.
Information was given to him, that if someone wanted his money they'd just take it. He knew that. With a small smirk on his lips he sent the reply "If the rogue wants my coin that badly then they will get it no matter where it is hidden." He informed if not curtly. "If I allow it to be seen they know I do not care one way or another if it is indeed missing, which is the truth." he grinned to him, softly, and turned his face away, scratching his chin. After a moment he shrugged. "All it is is a reckless sense of security that is pointless along with ignorant. If a bandit or a rouge wishes for my wares then he will get as he wills and even if I am not powerful enough to stave him off for long I know I can at least force him to think twice about such trespasses again." That was it. His odd thinking that his father had always scolded him for... that was what he had come to say, that was what he had told his mother when she had told him to carry his coin to his chest when he was in the city. There was no stopping a bandit. |
What's the name of the Creator God the Ekaini worship?: Eguzki ^^
Nice app. I like the detail. Watch your use of modern slang ('freaked out') and make sure to put spaces between paragraphs (that's not a rule, it's just much easier for your RP partner to read your posts that way). Also, make sure you proofread for basic grammar. Again, you've clearly put a lot of thought into this application, and it's wonderfully creative, so good job.
Accepted on my part, pending discussion with Lia. Lia?
This looks good to me. Accepted on my part.