Post by shywynd on Mar 28, 2011 21:51:48 GMT -6
( SID HYWYND )
[/font]( 32 , USER , SEAN PATRICK FLANERY , MECHANIC)
( LAID BACK , UNAMBITIOUS , PARANOID , SCHIZOID , CUNNING)[/center]
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
SID HYWYND HAS ONLY ONE YOUNGER SIBLING; KIA HYWYND WHO IS 18 AND WORKS AS A WEB DESIGNER. SID KNEW BEOWULF NOCTURNE FROM BACK IN THE DAYS OF GRADE SCHOOL AND THE FOUR ALWAYS HUNG OUT TOGETHER AND WERE INSEPARABLE. HOWEVER, THINGS CHANGED WHEN JOARA BECAME ILL WITH CANCER AND PASSED AWAY. WHILE SID TRIED TO COMFORT HIS FRIEND, HE TOOK NOTE OF THE CHANGES WITHIN HIS ONLY FRIEND AND HOW IT BECAME WORSE WITH TIME. SID GREW TO DISLIKE THE CHANGES AND EVENTUALLY THE DUO STOPPED TALKING TO ONE ANOTHER. SID, IN SPITE OF BEING JUST AS GOOD AS BEOWULF AT PROGRAMMING, BECAME A MECHANIC IF ONLY TO PROVE HE WAS NOT LIKE BEOWULF. SID CHANGED OVER THE YEARS AND OTHERS AROUND HIM GREW TO HATE IT. WHERE SID WAS ONCE A SOCIAL BUTTERFLY AND LOVED THE SPOTLIGHT, SID BECAME PARANOID OF EVERYONE'S MOTIVES AND BECAME MUCH MORE OF A LONER. HIS LONER ATTITUDE SOON TOOK A NOSE DIVE FOR THE WORSE; NO LONGER DID SID DESIRE CLOSE RELATIONSHIPS WITH OTHERS, RELATE TO OTHERS AND APPEARED DETACHED. SID ONLY MANAGED TO GET ALONG WITH OTHERS SO LONG AS IT OVER THE INTERNET AND THE LIKE OR PEOPLE HE SAW RARELY IN PERSON.
AS A PERSON, SID DOES SPEAK, THOUGH USUALLY SOMETHING NOT SO NICE OR MATTER OF FACT. HE IS ABLE TO HAVE A NORMAL CONVERSATION IF NECESSARY AND TO GAUGE WHERE HE'D STAND WITH SOMEONE. HE'LL SMILE AND LAUGH AT JOKES BUT WILL WONDER IF THERE IS AN UNDERLYING MESSAGE BENEATH IT. HE SOMETIMES TAKES THINGS OUT OF CONTEXT DUE TO HIS PARANOIA. WHILE HE DOES SEEM FRIENDLY, DON'T THINK TO MAKE A LONG TERM FRIEND OUT OF HIM. HE OFTEN ISN'T AROUND TO AID FRIENDS ANYHOW SINCE HE STOPPED SPEAKING TO BEOWULF AND BECAUSE OF HIS DISORDERS, OFTEN THINKING BY AIDING A 'FRIEND', HE AIDS THE 'ENEMY'. ITS UNCLEAR WHO THE ENEMY IS AND SID GETS ANGRY WHENEVER HE IS ASKED ABOUT IT. SID MAY HAVE DATED A FEW TIMES BUT HE OFTEN ENDS IT BEFORE IT EVEN HITS A THREE MONTH MARK. HE IS UNMARRIED AND HAS NO CHILDREN.
SID HAS ONLY COME TO THE GRID BECAUSE HE RECEIVED A ODD CRYPTIC MESSAGE FROM BEOWULF ONE DAY, THE LATTER ASKING HIM TO COME TO MAKE 'AMENDS'. SID HAS SUSPICION ITS MORE THAN THAT.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
EXPERIENCE HMM...I DUNNO. BUT FOR A WHILE NOW.
WHERE DID YOU FIND US PAULA/BEOWULF
CONTACT PLEASE KINDLY PM AND I'LL TELL YOU
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE AN EXCERPT FROM A STORY I HAVE BEEN WORKING ON
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He was dying. There was no other word for it, no other phrase he could think of that could so accurately describe how he felt right here, right now. Hargrim leaned back in his chair and sighed. His dark brown eyes were out of focus, out of place, his dark brown hair scuffled this way that. He hadn't shaved in a few days and a dark shadow was splashed across his cheeks, chin and above his upper lip. His dark blue robe stained with various foods and drinks, his white frilly shit, yellowed from the simple fact he wore it too long, his black slacks crinkled and his once polished black dress shoes dull.
He had to find it. It was all he cared about now. All he lived for at this moment. Hargrim sat haphazardly on his cushioned chair in front of his desk that had various books strewn open across it and various papers with notes written on them. He had dark circles under his eyes, his skin pale, then again he was always pale. He hardly left his study these days. That brought him back to his previous thought. Angrily, he swiped a pile of books and paper to the floor and growled.
"Damn that doctor!" He stated angrily. "What the hell does he know?!" Hargrim sunk his face into his hands and tears began to fog his vision. He felt something brush against his leg and glanced down, tensing slightly as a shadow passed by. Had death already come to claim him? He hadn't died yet! "Vulture." He growled.
"I prefer cat over vulture. I detest those angry little birds." Came the sharp reply in his mind. The shadow he had seen sat down and slowly his vision readjusted as he blinked away the tears.
"Damned cat. Scaring me like that."
"Keep it up Master, and I'll make sure you meet your black robed friend that you are ever so eager to meet."
Hargrim snorted. "Maybe you'll meet him first Lucian." The midnight blue panther with his solid sky blue eyes stared at him, licking his lips for a moment then appeared to smile.
"Wonder if he'd taste any good?"
"Your terrible. I admit though, I expected nothing sort of that answer from you Lucian. Only you could ever say something so horrible against death and he'd let you get away with it." He sighed and rubed a hand over his weary eyes. "How long did I black out this time?"
"A few hours Master Hargrim. Its a wonder your still awake this time. Your seizure this time made me wonder if you had died. You thrashed as usual, grinded your teeth, nearly choked on your own tongue and...hmm, what else am I missing? Oh yes. Your heart stopped beating for a hour."
Hargrim shook his head. "I will not allow it rule my life Lucian. Its the only reason I ever created you. To help me in this endeavor. Once again you watched and didn't help." The panther looked down to his paws.
"Pardon but I'm supposed to do something in this form? You chose to have me as an animal instead of a human...which I would have been more of aid as."
Lucian was a familiar. Familiars served as aids to their masters, from simple day to day chores or in Lucian's case, to try and aid with their crippling diseases. Hargrim had been diagnosed with a brain tumor last summer that caused him to black out and slowly wither away. The black outs left him crippled in various ways and in varying degrees. He could wake up with one side completely crippled and unresponsive or with a massive headache and blood pouring from his nose. Sometimes headaches came and left just as quickly. His immune system was lower as he withered away from the disease and he caught colds easier than most of the people of Amyra.
Hargrim was a mage. His brain was what he depended on heavily. With it withering away, he had been left with little choice but to create and summon a familiar. It still troubled him to this day why he had picked a panther. Was it because he had thought of that panther from the book series he had read as a child? Lucian admittedly couldn't do much with his form but what he could do, he did well. He helped steady Hargrim when the headaches came, helped his mind from wandering away whenever Hargrim went into one of his trances and helped him scour libraries for books. In a way, the mage was grateful for the familiar and for what little aid he could do.
Hargrim couldn't help but ponder about the land he lived in; Amyra. Years ago, people had thought mystical creatures like elves and dragons were fairy tales or myths and not real, no not once. However, in the year of 2101, a dragon awoke that many had thought of as a moutain and destroyed a city. A city mind you, with the all the techonology of the world. The fast cars, the teleporters, everything mankind had dreamed of creating in the past. Nothing could've prepared them for that rude awakening, the slaughter that happened as more and more dragons awoke and ravaged the land. So the world turned to what they knew best and had worked in their fairy tales though with a twist; they were armed with techonolgy. So they crafted their technology around killing dragons. Just as one problem was about to be solved, another appeared.
Vampires. Undead. Mermaids. Orcs. It was if someone searched their libraries and spewed all their fantasy and fiction out on them. So once again man adapted and changed. They mixed with other races to ensure survival. Earth changed and no longer were people defined by "human race" such as caucasian or native american; but by elf, human, vampire, dragon...the list could go on and on.
The only exception to this rule was orcs. Orcs were once human, but in effort to squash the threats that arose to eradicate mankind, they were spawned. Scientist experimented upon those first dozen poor souls and made them stronger, tougher and gave them more stamina. Orcs however, on the negative side, were slow, stubborn and not too bright. It was surmised, amusingly and as a joke, somewhere in their cocktail of drugs and viruses that steroids were used, which caused their brains to shrink. Orcs were the bottom of the ladder of races as they were either kept as slaves, pack mules or bodyguards. They were thought little of. They weren't considered beings and nothing more as savages.
Elves, half-elves, humans, and humans who were short that were once called "little people" or "midgets" that a nerd one day forever gave them their new title, halflings, were the middle class. Yes, they stuggled, but they were treated better than orcs. But like orcs, if they allowed bills and debts to build up, could end up as slaves themselves. In fact, some were even lower class, but always, higher than a orc.
At the top of their hierarchy were the dragons and anyone who could become rich. Even the lowliest orc could obtain it if he put his stubborn mind to. Very few did and more often that not, it was filled with elves and humans. However, most of the humans were what Hargrim was; a mage. For a mage, gaining money was easy. They performed tasks normal people did want to do, such as cursing someone, or were "doctors", healed the injured and the sick. Doctors long ago relied on their limited knowledge of the human anatomy, their skill with a blade, but when magic came back to the world, they threw it all out. That's where this other class of people came from; assassins. Assassins hired themselves out to get rid of whoever people wanted when magic failed and secrey was needed. Assassins also had people pay to be apprentices, just like mages, to learn their craft.
Hargrim had yet to get a apprentice. But at the rate things were going, he might have. If only to write down notes for him, to fetch books with Lucian, whatever he could think of for an assistant. He had yet to cross the thought of actually teaching his apprentice, assistant, whatever title he could think of for the youngster he would hire, magic. He supposed if whoever he hired could handle Lucian well, he would teach magic to. Maybe.
Hargrim felt something nip at his ankle and glanced down to see that it was Lucian who had done the deed and was returning his stare.
"Your mind was wandering again Hargrim. I was only doing as you had asked of me."
Hagrim reached down and gave Lucian a solid pat. "I know Lucian. I know."
He had to find it. It was all he cared about now. All he lived for at this moment. Hargrim sat haphazardly on his cushioned chair in front of his desk that had various books strewn open across it and various papers with notes written on them. He had dark circles under his eyes, his skin pale, then again he was always pale. He hardly left his study these days. That brought him back to his previous thought. Angrily, he swiped a pile of books and paper to the floor and growled.
"Damn that doctor!" He stated angrily. "What the hell does he know?!" Hargrim sunk his face into his hands and tears began to fog his vision. He felt something brush against his leg and glanced down, tensing slightly as a shadow passed by. Had death already come to claim him? He hadn't died yet! "Vulture." He growled.
"I prefer cat over vulture. I detest those angry little birds." Came the sharp reply in his mind. The shadow he had seen sat down and slowly his vision readjusted as he blinked away the tears.
"Damned cat. Scaring me like that."
"Keep it up Master, and I'll make sure you meet your black robed friend that you are ever so eager to meet."
Hargrim snorted. "Maybe you'll meet him first Lucian." The midnight blue panther with his solid sky blue eyes stared at him, licking his lips for a moment then appeared to smile.
"Wonder if he'd taste any good?"
"Your terrible. I admit though, I expected nothing sort of that answer from you Lucian. Only you could ever say something so horrible against death and he'd let you get away with it." He sighed and rubed a hand over his weary eyes. "How long did I black out this time?"
"A few hours Master Hargrim. Its a wonder your still awake this time. Your seizure this time made me wonder if you had died. You thrashed as usual, grinded your teeth, nearly choked on your own tongue and...hmm, what else am I missing? Oh yes. Your heart stopped beating for a hour."
Hargrim shook his head. "I will not allow it rule my life Lucian. Its the only reason I ever created you. To help me in this endeavor. Once again you watched and didn't help." The panther looked down to his paws.
"Pardon but I'm supposed to do something in this form? You chose to have me as an animal instead of a human...which I would have been more of aid as."
Lucian was a familiar. Familiars served as aids to their masters, from simple day to day chores or in Lucian's case, to try and aid with their crippling diseases. Hargrim had been diagnosed with a brain tumor last summer that caused him to black out and slowly wither away. The black outs left him crippled in various ways and in varying degrees. He could wake up with one side completely crippled and unresponsive or with a massive headache and blood pouring from his nose. Sometimes headaches came and left just as quickly. His immune system was lower as he withered away from the disease and he caught colds easier than most of the people of Amyra.
Hargrim was a mage. His brain was what he depended on heavily. With it withering away, he had been left with little choice but to create and summon a familiar. It still troubled him to this day why he had picked a panther. Was it because he had thought of that panther from the book series he had read as a child? Lucian admittedly couldn't do much with his form but what he could do, he did well. He helped steady Hargrim when the headaches came, helped his mind from wandering away whenever Hargrim went into one of his trances and helped him scour libraries for books. In a way, the mage was grateful for the familiar and for what little aid he could do.
Hargrim couldn't help but ponder about the land he lived in; Amyra. Years ago, people had thought mystical creatures like elves and dragons were fairy tales or myths and not real, no not once. However, in the year of 2101, a dragon awoke that many had thought of as a moutain and destroyed a city. A city mind you, with the all the techonology of the world. The fast cars, the teleporters, everything mankind had dreamed of creating in the past. Nothing could've prepared them for that rude awakening, the slaughter that happened as more and more dragons awoke and ravaged the land. So the world turned to what they knew best and had worked in their fairy tales though with a twist; they were armed with techonolgy. So they crafted their technology around killing dragons. Just as one problem was about to be solved, another appeared.
Vampires. Undead. Mermaids. Orcs. It was if someone searched their libraries and spewed all their fantasy and fiction out on them. So once again man adapted and changed. They mixed with other races to ensure survival. Earth changed and no longer were people defined by "human race" such as caucasian or native american; but by elf, human, vampire, dragon...the list could go on and on.
The only exception to this rule was orcs. Orcs were once human, but in effort to squash the threats that arose to eradicate mankind, they were spawned. Scientist experimented upon those first dozen poor souls and made them stronger, tougher and gave them more stamina. Orcs however, on the negative side, were slow, stubborn and not too bright. It was surmised, amusingly and as a joke, somewhere in their cocktail of drugs and viruses that steroids were used, which caused their brains to shrink. Orcs were the bottom of the ladder of races as they were either kept as slaves, pack mules or bodyguards. They were thought little of. They weren't considered beings and nothing more as savages.
Elves, half-elves, humans, and humans who were short that were once called "little people" or "midgets" that a nerd one day forever gave them their new title, halflings, were the middle class. Yes, they stuggled, but they were treated better than orcs. But like orcs, if they allowed bills and debts to build up, could end up as slaves themselves. In fact, some were even lower class, but always, higher than a orc.
At the top of their hierarchy were the dragons and anyone who could become rich. Even the lowliest orc could obtain it if he put his stubborn mind to. Very few did and more often that not, it was filled with elves and humans. However, most of the humans were what Hargrim was; a mage. For a mage, gaining money was easy. They performed tasks normal people did want to do, such as cursing someone, or were "doctors", healed the injured and the sick. Doctors long ago relied on their limited knowledge of the human anatomy, their skill with a blade, but when magic came back to the world, they threw it all out. That's where this other class of people came from; assassins. Assassins hired themselves out to get rid of whoever people wanted when magic failed and secrey was needed. Assassins also had people pay to be apprentices, just like mages, to learn their craft.
Hargrim had yet to get a apprentice. But at the rate things were going, he might have. If only to write down notes for him, to fetch books with Lucian, whatever he could think of for an assistant. He had yet to cross the thought of actually teaching his apprentice, assistant, whatever title he could think of for the youngster he would hire, magic. He supposed if whoever he hired could handle Lucian well, he would teach magic to. Maybe.
Hargrim felt something nip at his ankle and glanced down to see that it was Lucian who had done the deed and was returning his stare.
"Your mind was wandering again Hargrim. I was only doing as you had asked of me."
Hagrim reached down and gave Lucian a solid pat. "I know Lucian. I know."
THIS APPLICATON TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY JANASAURUS! OVER AT CAUTION!
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