Bohemia
03-29-06, 08:03 PM
((Consider this a sort of Jon 0.3. I think I had maybe 300 or 400 exp or something, and I'm including the stuff Jon has picked up since registering on the old board.))
Name: Jon Gosnell
Age: 19
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 224 lbs
Hair Color: Jon dyed it black just before his death on earth, and when he was reincarnated here, it strangely became his natural hair color.
Eye Color: Hazel (Green with brown spots)
Occupation: Wanderer, Being A Jackass.
Appearance:
Jon is tall, unduly tall, taller than most of the other people his age. It's something to gripe about though, than be proud about; with his clumsiness, he's constantly banging his head into things. Despite the relative scarcety of barbers in this world, a thing he's grudgingly noticed, he keeps his hair presentable and short, normally trimming the sides and back, keeping the top and bangs long.
His wardrobe is almost always as follows: a pair of greyish denim pants with a black studded leather belt, a pair of black sneakers with black laces, a darkish teal colored t-shirt over a white t-shirt, and a black hooded sweatshirt. He also owns a dark brown leather jacket and a pair of black utility boots, but he doesn't usually wear them unless he knows there's going to be a fight at hand.
Personality:
Jon fits the description of "Those Damned Kids Nowadays" pretty well. He's lazy and works only when he feels properly motivated or if the outcome favors him in some way. He goes to great and ridiculous lengths to impress girls, and has a horrifically foul mouth. He's got a penchant for saying some bizarre things, and often says them just at the worst possible time. Bad luck seems to be his middle name, drawn into the most outlandish shit possible, but if ignorance is bliss, Jon's probably the happiest man on Althanas.
Weapons:
Fighting Staff - A sturdy, six foot long fighting staff made of the grayish colored wood, trakym. The staff is nice and light, and well balanced, one of the ones Garen used as a boy. It has a pair of steel caps at either end, partially for decoration, but also to add punch to strikes.
Clawed Gloves - A pair of steel clawed leather gloves, with a blade extending from between each finger. Inside the glove is an apparatus that appear to be connected rings, where the fingers go into each sleeve. These are attached to the blades, and make them a bit more sturdy, instead of being attached to the leather, where they hava a danger of being torn loose.
Knives - A pair of black iron knives with rubberized, flattened hilts to increase grip. These are stowed awat in compartments on the outside of the ankles on either utility boot. Usually used for throwing, or finishing off an enemy, as he has little skill in the use of them.
Skills:
Drawing - Jon is good with a pad of paper and a pencil, and is a decent artist for the most part. There's a good possibility he could make money by drawing portraits of people if he gets a little better here at Althanas.
Staff Fighting - After being injured by a pack of marauding goblins in the Peaceful Promenade, Jon and another were taken into the care of of an old man named Garen. After a show of his skills, Jon pleaded Garen to take him under his wing. While Jon shows skill in the use of a staff, he doesn't have the balance or finesse to truly be a threat, he knows enough of the basics to be able to attack and defend himself.
Knife Throwing Jon has been practicing with throwing knives for a few months now. However, he has little accuracy, and is usally found cussing relentlessly at this practice targets. However, with some time, he'll probably get the hang of it.
The Elvish Language - The language spoken, of course, by the elves. While not fully mastered, and often tripping on a few words and pronunciation, Jon can converse with little trouble in the language with anyone else that understands it.
Song Magic
After he had recovered from his wounds, and had learned the basics from his mentor, Garen, Jon went off into the world with the neko-jin Wilmhearst Slayer, July. The slayer recommended that he learned some magic, and paid for a ferry ticket to Istien University in Raiaera.
Thunderstruck - Jon's first song spell, centering solely on combat. Upon singing the correct words in the Elvish language, on the precise beat, a blast of electricity lances from his outstretched palm. Can be used twice before his natural magic reserves are empty.
Origin:
Jon Gosnell was born at eight minutes past one o' clock, PM, on March 18, 1987, in Greenville, Pennsylvania to a very young mother and no father. It was a rather plain day, no monumental storms or brilliant sunshine, which may have contracted from the very joy of his birth. Taken in the loving yet soon to be mostly absent arms of his mother, Jon was taken to the small village of Atlantic, mostly populated by Menonites, where his life was to begin.
Still young, his mother took off to party with her firends, which left his grandparents to raise him. They instilled in his propper manners, ettiquette, never to punch a girl, respect your elders, good moral fibers for a young man. It's still not exactly known where he put all these lessons.
During Kindergarten, struck another child over the head with a rolling pin, not knowing any better. He may have gotten in trouble for it later, but at the moment, he thought it was the funniest thing ever. This, and the steady diet of junk food and horror movies his mother fed him attributed to the strange young man he is today.
Life was quiet and sleepy and boring in Atlantic, until at eleven, his mother met a 'hero', a loud mouthed, bad mannered idiot named Dave Ash, and promptly moved the two in. Over the next eight years, depression and hate for Dave set in turning him into what he is at eighteen; a young man already with a taste for alcohol and just beginning to smoke. A week after his last birthday, he gave his 'stepfather' a fond f*ck you and moved back in with his grandparents.
And one night on the streets of Greenville, his life on Earth was done.
Stumbling across the street, hazy
The peircing shriek of horn and tire
A few tons of metal, crushing bone, thrown to the ground in a mess of blood
Lulled to sleep by the ambulance sirens
The paramedics milling around like curious ghosts
And goddamn was the
asphalt hot
or
what?!
Sleep and something infinitely more final took him, washing away the pain that lay in legs he couldn't move any longer. The slumber was long, he was sure of that, but he wasn't positive of the true flow of time. How many hours? Days? Weeks? Years?!
And then suddenly his eyes opened, and he realized that he felt fine. He climbed to his feet, rubbing at his grainy eyes, and yawned. He was in a forest somewhere, and he had been sleeping next to a crystal clear pond.
Was this...heaven?
No, or else right now, he'd be in the process of a massage by a bunch of beautiful, naked women.
With big boobs.
Obviously.
So groggy from his very strange sleep, and even stranger, not asking any questions as to why he was still alive, Jon Gosnell wandered out of Concordia Forest, to Radasanth.
Jon wandered Althanas for the most of his time, usually drunk, trying to start parties. Unfortunately, nobody could understand what the hell he was talking about. His luck changed at The Peaceful Promenade, where he started up one hell of a party, that was unfortunately interrupted by a pack of goblins. Completely drunk out of his gourd, Jon fought with them for interrupting his performance, but was soon injured and rendered unconscious.
When he awoke, he found himself in the house of an old man and his two daughters, along with another who had been injured in the attack. During their six month stay, Jon learned how to use a staff under the tutelage of Garen, and July, the other wounded man, did what he could to investigate the strangely behaving goblins. At Garen's urging, the two visited a nearby mystic, who informed him that Unpak, The King of Goblins, had been possessed by a demon, and was directing his minions to kill. The two quickly left to go to Alerar, to try and stop the danger.
However, they made a stop in Corone, where Jon took a ferry to Raiaera to learn a bit of magic at Istien University. When he returned, Jon stepped into a suspiciously different Corone, July no where in sight.
Name: Jon Gosnell
Age: 19
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 224 lbs
Hair Color: Jon dyed it black just before his death on earth, and when he was reincarnated here, it strangely became his natural hair color.
Eye Color: Hazel (Green with brown spots)
Occupation: Wanderer, Being A Jackass.
Appearance:
Jon is tall, unduly tall, taller than most of the other people his age. It's something to gripe about though, than be proud about; with his clumsiness, he's constantly banging his head into things. Despite the relative scarcety of barbers in this world, a thing he's grudgingly noticed, he keeps his hair presentable and short, normally trimming the sides and back, keeping the top and bangs long.
His wardrobe is almost always as follows: a pair of greyish denim pants with a black studded leather belt, a pair of black sneakers with black laces, a darkish teal colored t-shirt over a white t-shirt, and a black hooded sweatshirt. He also owns a dark brown leather jacket and a pair of black utility boots, but he doesn't usually wear them unless he knows there's going to be a fight at hand.
Personality:
Jon fits the description of "Those Damned Kids Nowadays" pretty well. He's lazy and works only when he feels properly motivated or if the outcome favors him in some way. He goes to great and ridiculous lengths to impress girls, and has a horrifically foul mouth. He's got a penchant for saying some bizarre things, and often says them just at the worst possible time. Bad luck seems to be his middle name, drawn into the most outlandish shit possible, but if ignorance is bliss, Jon's probably the happiest man on Althanas.
Weapons:
Fighting Staff - A sturdy, six foot long fighting staff made of the grayish colored wood, trakym. The staff is nice and light, and well balanced, one of the ones Garen used as a boy. It has a pair of steel caps at either end, partially for decoration, but also to add punch to strikes.
Clawed Gloves - A pair of steel clawed leather gloves, with a blade extending from between each finger. Inside the glove is an apparatus that appear to be connected rings, where the fingers go into each sleeve. These are attached to the blades, and make them a bit more sturdy, instead of being attached to the leather, where they hava a danger of being torn loose.
Knives - A pair of black iron knives with rubberized, flattened hilts to increase grip. These are stowed awat in compartments on the outside of the ankles on either utility boot. Usually used for throwing, or finishing off an enemy, as he has little skill in the use of them.
Skills:
Drawing - Jon is good with a pad of paper and a pencil, and is a decent artist for the most part. There's a good possibility he could make money by drawing portraits of people if he gets a little better here at Althanas.
Staff Fighting - After being injured by a pack of marauding goblins in the Peaceful Promenade, Jon and another were taken into the care of of an old man named Garen. After a show of his skills, Jon pleaded Garen to take him under his wing. While Jon shows skill in the use of a staff, he doesn't have the balance or finesse to truly be a threat, he knows enough of the basics to be able to attack and defend himself.
Knife Throwing Jon has been practicing with throwing knives for a few months now. However, he has little accuracy, and is usally found cussing relentlessly at this practice targets. However, with some time, he'll probably get the hang of it.
The Elvish Language - The language spoken, of course, by the elves. While not fully mastered, and often tripping on a few words and pronunciation, Jon can converse with little trouble in the language with anyone else that understands it.
Song Magic
After he had recovered from his wounds, and had learned the basics from his mentor, Garen, Jon went off into the world with the neko-jin Wilmhearst Slayer, July. The slayer recommended that he learned some magic, and paid for a ferry ticket to Istien University in Raiaera.
Thunderstruck - Jon's first song spell, centering solely on combat. Upon singing the correct words in the Elvish language, on the precise beat, a blast of electricity lances from his outstretched palm. Can be used twice before his natural magic reserves are empty.
Origin:
Jon Gosnell was born at eight minutes past one o' clock, PM, on March 18, 1987, in Greenville, Pennsylvania to a very young mother and no father. It was a rather plain day, no monumental storms or brilliant sunshine, which may have contracted from the very joy of his birth. Taken in the loving yet soon to be mostly absent arms of his mother, Jon was taken to the small village of Atlantic, mostly populated by Menonites, where his life was to begin.
Still young, his mother took off to party with her firends, which left his grandparents to raise him. They instilled in his propper manners, ettiquette, never to punch a girl, respect your elders, good moral fibers for a young man. It's still not exactly known where he put all these lessons.
During Kindergarten, struck another child over the head with a rolling pin, not knowing any better. He may have gotten in trouble for it later, but at the moment, he thought it was the funniest thing ever. This, and the steady diet of junk food and horror movies his mother fed him attributed to the strange young man he is today.
Life was quiet and sleepy and boring in Atlantic, until at eleven, his mother met a 'hero', a loud mouthed, bad mannered idiot named Dave Ash, and promptly moved the two in. Over the next eight years, depression and hate for Dave set in turning him into what he is at eighteen; a young man already with a taste for alcohol and just beginning to smoke. A week after his last birthday, he gave his 'stepfather' a fond f*ck you and moved back in with his grandparents.
And one night on the streets of Greenville, his life on Earth was done.
Stumbling across the street, hazy
The peircing shriek of horn and tire
A few tons of metal, crushing bone, thrown to the ground in a mess of blood
Lulled to sleep by the ambulance sirens
The paramedics milling around like curious ghosts
And goddamn was the
asphalt hot
or
what?!
Sleep and something infinitely more final took him, washing away the pain that lay in legs he couldn't move any longer. The slumber was long, he was sure of that, but he wasn't positive of the true flow of time. How many hours? Days? Weeks? Years?!
And then suddenly his eyes opened, and he realized that he felt fine. He climbed to his feet, rubbing at his grainy eyes, and yawned. He was in a forest somewhere, and he had been sleeping next to a crystal clear pond.
Was this...heaven?
No, or else right now, he'd be in the process of a massage by a bunch of beautiful, naked women.
With big boobs.
Obviously.
So groggy from his very strange sleep, and even stranger, not asking any questions as to why he was still alive, Jon Gosnell wandered out of Concordia Forest, to Radasanth.
Jon wandered Althanas for the most of his time, usually drunk, trying to start parties. Unfortunately, nobody could understand what the hell he was talking about. His luck changed at The Peaceful Promenade, where he started up one hell of a party, that was unfortunately interrupted by a pack of goblins. Completely drunk out of his gourd, Jon fought with them for interrupting his performance, but was soon injured and rendered unconscious.
When he awoke, he found himself in the house of an old man and his two daughters, along with another who had been injured in the attack. During their six month stay, Jon learned how to use a staff under the tutelage of Garen, and July, the other wounded man, did what he could to investigate the strangely behaving goblins. At Garen's urging, the two visited a nearby mystic, who informed him that Unpak, The King of Goblins, had been possessed by a demon, and was directing his minions to kill. The two quickly left to go to Alerar, to try and stop the danger.
However, they made a stop in Corone, where Jon took a ferry to Raiaera to learn a bit of magic at Istien University. When he returned, Jon stepped into a suspiciously different Corone, July no where in sight.