Ant
09-11-10, 11:10 AM
Ant Camus
Human male
23 years old
Appearance
Ant is tall and lean at 6' 3" and approximately 170 pounds. He does not appear strong in the stereotypical sense, but he has efficiently packed muscle onto his frame. He has a pale complexion and light freckles adorn the bridge of his narrow nose. Beneath thick but dirty blonde eyebrows are his large eyes, and depending on how the light reflects them, they can appear to be deep green to blue-gray. Ant has a prominent jawline and cheekbones, usually clean-shaven. His dirty blonde hair is often faded with cowlick-ridden bangs, though he cuts it uniformly short when he is unable to reach a barber. A veinous forehead and etched jaw may give some the impression he is humorless, but his smile melts his countenance and a curious empathy livens his eyes. He speaks quietly but deeply, and it is rare to hear his voice crack or raised. He prefers cheap utilitarian clothing, such as leather boots, loose trousers, and comfortable shirts and cloaks.
Personality
A person's character is difficult to capture in so many words, which will necessarily lack the depth and variability required. For the sake of convenience, though, it can be briefly said that Ant is a quiet, reflective individual who enjoys learning, exercising, and good beer, and like many others, is profoundly discontent with his lot in life.
History
How did he get here? Ant tried to clear his mind for a moment, focusing on the warm embrace of the ocean's gentle waves. He lay partly immersed in the water, his back upon the soft sand and his eyes to the heavens. The small tide broke at his feet and leisurely enveloped him, only to return from where it came in the same nonchalant manner. It felt as though the ocean was breathing upon him, at one moment pushing him away with exhalation and at another inhaling him into its immeasurable lungs. The young man had never felt so placeless, on the edge of land and sea, material and immaterial, seemingly torn between both, with nothing but the vast uncaring maw of the night sky looming above. Feelings of order and chaos invaded his mind, but most of all, feelings of oblivion. Simply holding back the terror required all his willpower.
The stars were different, somewhat recognizable but out of place. He knew his name, and could think of his home, but it seemed so distant and alien in his mind. Vaguely familiar faces came and went. He recalled beginning an endeavor at sea, a journey of exploration; he remembered being overwhelmed by it, and despairing, and acquiescing to his fate. Death had seemed certain at the time; he knew it still was, that it was only postponed for the moment. But the despair, it still clung to him, despair of his failed journey, of his unknown whereabouts, of how to continue; it stripped existence of its illusions and left bare its strange artificiality.
Ant slowed his respiration to match it with the breathing of the sea; he let his gaze unfocus, absorbing the whole night sky. Soon it felt as if all of existence was breathing with him. Closing his eyes and opening his mind, Ant imagined outward, picturing his solitary figure upon the beach. Higher and higher he went, until he was as indiscernable as the individual grains of sand, until the face of Althanas itself came into view; further and further, beyond this planet, beyond its maternal star. Thousands of other stars quickly became millions, which quickly became hundreds of billions, coming into view, forming into a vast swirling cloud; in turn many more of these clouds appeared, each with their own multitude of stars. He had never felt so insignificant; even death, gripping him momentarily, had cast him aside with disinterest. Despair would not leave him, but the freedom was palpable.
Hours could have passed. He calmed. Though he could not identify where he was, he knew he was there. Despair remained, but it was liberating. His journey had not gone according to plan, but it was not over. His home called to him, but he sensed its time had passed, and the precipice of uncertainty upon which he lay was exciting, even intoxicating. The slate had never been cleaner. To linger on this edge of oblivion without be swallowed by it, to meanwhile enjoy the sights.
Ant opened his eyes and lifted his head slowly, casting glances toward the horizon. Sounds rushed back to him; the lapping of the waves and the light breeze were almost deafening. He felt as though his entire head was swaying, but he lifted himself into a sitting a position; hunger and thirst invaded his senses, reminding him of emptiness. The climate was inviting, the ocean nourishing, the land resourceful; he may just survive yet. He could perceive the energy interweaving all existence, he could feel it; confidence was restored. In a paradoxical state of serenity and excitement, Ant pulled himself to his feet.
Although it seems to have been years since then, it couldn't have been more than a few months. The young man survived the shipwreck and found himself to be upon the island of Corone, a place he had vaguely heard of before his ordeal. Memories of his origin still elude him, but he couldn't really care less, he realized. Ant is much more focused on his dreary existence as a worker for a tavern-owner located in a stale town on the shore of the island nation. Dreams of escape come and go, but life continues to slip through his fingers.
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Equipment
Steel shortsword
Skills
Willpower: When most others would quit from fatigue or pain, Ant can continue for a while longer with poise. His strength of mind also affords him some modest protection from the affects of mind-altering substances and magic.
Melee: Ant's self-taught combat techniques emphasize mobility and evasion to maneuver around an opponents' defenses, tire them, and avoid damage, meanwhile using his sword and fists at close quarters. Thus, he is strong and particularly agile, but still just an average combatant.
First Aid: He can provide basic first aid, such as dressing wounds, slowing or halting modest hemorrhaging, ventilation, splinting injuries, CPR, and stabilizing and moving the victim as safely as possible. His interventions are oriented toward stabilization and prolonging an endangered life; most injuries require further treatment from someone better trained.
Stealth: Ant is an average sneak; he can quietly slip by the inattentive with little to no problem in an accomodating environment. His ability is reduced greatly, however, depending on the alertness of people around him and the openness and lighting of the area.
Human male
23 years old
Appearance
Ant is tall and lean at 6' 3" and approximately 170 pounds. He does not appear strong in the stereotypical sense, but he has efficiently packed muscle onto his frame. He has a pale complexion and light freckles adorn the bridge of his narrow nose. Beneath thick but dirty blonde eyebrows are his large eyes, and depending on how the light reflects them, they can appear to be deep green to blue-gray. Ant has a prominent jawline and cheekbones, usually clean-shaven. His dirty blonde hair is often faded with cowlick-ridden bangs, though he cuts it uniformly short when he is unable to reach a barber. A veinous forehead and etched jaw may give some the impression he is humorless, but his smile melts his countenance and a curious empathy livens his eyes. He speaks quietly but deeply, and it is rare to hear his voice crack or raised. He prefers cheap utilitarian clothing, such as leather boots, loose trousers, and comfortable shirts and cloaks.
Personality
A person's character is difficult to capture in so many words, which will necessarily lack the depth and variability required. For the sake of convenience, though, it can be briefly said that Ant is a quiet, reflective individual who enjoys learning, exercising, and good beer, and like many others, is profoundly discontent with his lot in life.
History
How did he get here? Ant tried to clear his mind for a moment, focusing on the warm embrace of the ocean's gentle waves. He lay partly immersed in the water, his back upon the soft sand and his eyes to the heavens. The small tide broke at his feet and leisurely enveloped him, only to return from where it came in the same nonchalant manner. It felt as though the ocean was breathing upon him, at one moment pushing him away with exhalation and at another inhaling him into its immeasurable lungs. The young man had never felt so placeless, on the edge of land and sea, material and immaterial, seemingly torn between both, with nothing but the vast uncaring maw of the night sky looming above. Feelings of order and chaos invaded his mind, but most of all, feelings of oblivion. Simply holding back the terror required all his willpower.
The stars were different, somewhat recognizable but out of place. He knew his name, and could think of his home, but it seemed so distant and alien in his mind. Vaguely familiar faces came and went. He recalled beginning an endeavor at sea, a journey of exploration; he remembered being overwhelmed by it, and despairing, and acquiescing to his fate. Death had seemed certain at the time; he knew it still was, that it was only postponed for the moment. But the despair, it still clung to him, despair of his failed journey, of his unknown whereabouts, of how to continue; it stripped existence of its illusions and left bare its strange artificiality.
Ant slowed his respiration to match it with the breathing of the sea; he let his gaze unfocus, absorbing the whole night sky. Soon it felt as if all of existence was breathing with him. Closing his eyes and opening his mind, Ant imagined outward, picturing his solitary figure upon the beach. Higher and higher he went, until he was as indiscernable as the individual grains of sand, until the face of Althanas itself came into view; further and further, beyond this planet, beyond its maternal star. Thousands of other stars quickly became millions, which quickly became hundreds of billions, coming into view, forming into a vast swirling cloud; in turn many more of these clouds appeared, each with their own multitude of stars. He had never felt so insignificant; even death, gripping him momentarily, had cast him aside with disinterest. Despair would not leave him, but the freedom was palpable.
Hours could have passed. He calmed. Though he could not identify where he was, he knew he was there. Despair remained, but it was liberating. His journey had not gone according to plan, but it was not over. His home called to him, but he sensed its time had passed, and the precipice of uncertainty upon which he lay was exciting, even intoxicating. The slate had never been cleaner. To linger on this edge of oblivion without be swallowed by it, to meanwhile enjoy the sights.
Ant opened his eyes and lifted his head slowly, casting glances toward the horizon. Sounds rushed back to him; the lapping of the waves and the light breeze were almost deafening. He felt as though his entire head was swaying, but he lifted himself into a sitting a position; hunger and thirst invaded his senses, reminding him of emptiness. The climate was inviting, the ocean nourishing, the land resourceful; he may just survive yet. He could perceive the energy interweaving all existence, he could feel it; confidence was restored. In a paradoxical state of serenity and excitement, Ant pulled himself to his feet.
Although it seems to have been years since then, it couldn't have been more than a few months. The young man survived the shipwreck and found himself to be upon the island of Corone, a place he had vaguely heard of before his ordeal. Memories of his origin still elude him, but he couldn't really care less, he realized. Ant is much more focused on his dreary existence as a worker for a tavern-owner located in a stale town on the shore of the island nation. Dreams of escape come and go, but life continues to slip through his fingers.
__
Equipment
Steel shortsword
Skills
Willpower: When most others would quit from fatigue or pain, Ant can continue for a while longer with poise. His strength of mind also affords him some modest protection from the affects of mind-altering substances and magic.
Melee: Ant's self-taught combat techniques emphasize mobility and evasion to maneuver around an opponents' defenses, tire them, and avoid damage, meanwhile using his sword and fists at close quarters. Thus, he is strong and particularly agile, but still just an average combatant.
First Aid: He can provide basic first aid, such as dressing wounds, slowing or halting modest hemorrhaging, ventilation, splinting injuries, CPR, and stabilizing and moving the victim as safely as possible. His interventions are oriented toward stabilization and prolonging an endangered life; most injuries require further treatment from someone better trained.
Stealth: Ant is an average sneak; he can quietly slip by the inattentive with little to no problem in an accomodating environment. His ability is reduced greatly, however, depending on the alertness of people around him and the openness and lighting of the area.