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Post by Joscelin de Valore on May 19, 2012 15:33:03 GMT -5
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b a s i c s .
name. joscelin william de valore age. twenty-five height. 6'2" weight. 195 lbs occupation. crown prince of etrias
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p e r s o n a l i t y .
likes.
⚜ Women ⚜ Wine ⚜ Sparring ⚜ Horsemanship ⚜ Gambling ⚜ His Sisters ⚜ His Father
dislikes.
⚜ When others judge him ⚜ The lingering effects of war ⚜ Those who conspire against him ⚜ Injustice ⚜ His mother, particularly because of her favoring his younger siblings
strengths.
⚜ His physical prowress ⚜ Intelligence, particularly when it comes to politicking ⚜ His charisma ⚜ An excellent tactician on the field who could likewise raise morale ⚜ Fearless
weaknesses.
⚜ Gambling ⚜ Wine ⚜ Women ⚜ Temper, especially when deep in his cups ⚜ Stubbornness, especially when drawn into a challenge
fears.
⚜ That he will lose his rightful claim on the throne ⚜ That his habits would tear him asunder ⚜ That his father may one day look upon him with disapproval
goals.
⚜ To one day rule Etrias ⚜ To bury the past
Joscelin had been a curious and affectionate child in his youth, but since being groomed by his father, and a multitude of stern instructors, Joscelin's public affections are rare. He has become quite an intelligent man, however, taking pride in his ability at politicking and the fact that his father would entrust him to lead negotiations at times with foreign diplomats. Due to this, Joscelin is extremely confident and charismatic. Often times he has a smile on his face and a gleam to his eyes because, in his mind, he could talk the talk and walk the walk.
When it comes to family, Joscelin is fiercely protective of them, especially his youngest sisters. When they were children he was fond of them, and although they have somewhat grown apart and have not had much time together, partly due to his habits, Joscelin still cares for them. As for friends, he keeps them close, fond of their company and surrounding himself with an entourage at times, starved for such company. Women, however, are treated differently. He charms them and wins them over, but he uses them outright, not attempting anything more, not daring to open his heart and mind to another . . . at least not yet.
Currently Joscelin does have an destructive mindset as he risks his position as the crown prince by gambling, drinking, and womanizing his way into an early grave. Yet, there's a part of him that detests it at times, particularly in that deepest, darkest part of night where he's the only one awake, left to think of what has happened in the past years.
h i s t o r y .
family
- King ____ de Valore - Father
- Queen ____ de Valore - Mother
- Prince ____ de Valore - Brother
- Rosaria de Valore - Sister
- Adelaide de Valore - Sister
Being the first child, and crown prince, of the King and Queen of Etrias was quite a hefty burden for a child barely a few seconds old when he came into the world. Yet, the moment he had opened his blue eyes and stared up into his father and mother's faces, all knew that he would do great things; after all, how could he not . . . ? His father, the King, was renown for his feats in battle and as a just ruler, and his mother wise beyond her years and kind hearted. There was no reason to doubt the crown prince's future.
He was a charming and rather adoring child, although his father did not allow the Queen to coddle him. He had decided to groom Joscelin as soon as he deemed the boy old enough. When the time came Joscelin was taught how to read and write his letters, numbers, and learned his manners. He learned how to ride, which he was most fond of, at least until the moment he had been given his first wooden blade.
He had fallen in love with the art of fighting. It wasn't as dull or required him to sit still for hours on end hunched over a table. All it required was him to do his best, and to hone that skill required practice . . . hours of it, days of it, years of it. It came to him easily . . . as easily as breathing came to others. In turn he was more disciplined and performed well at his studies, and when he came of age he was a son that any father would have been proud to have.
What had gone wrong then . . . ?
Joscelin hadn't always been a gambler, or Hell, one to drink much wine. Yes, he would have a cup at times at dinner, but mostly, when he had been younger, he had stood away from it, stating that he required a clear mind at all times. Now, however, he drank, womanized, and gambled like no other. Of course there were times he focused on the matters at hand, but more than likely he could be found elsewhere, drowning in his habits and shutting out the world.
What others didn't know was that Joscelin had been scarred deeply by war, although that wasn't to say that he would shy away from battle. Joscelin would still fight; in fact, he would be in the thick of it, fighting tooth and nail. Yet, there was a time where Joscelin had been young, eager, and head first . . . a time where he had loved and been loved by someone that was not family, not friends, not the people that they ruled over, but by someone unlikely. It was a woman, someone so far underneath him, and yet her status hadn't mattered because of the way she treated him . . . she had treated him as a man and not some prince.
She had treated him as she would have her brother, standing up to him and looking so beautifully furious. It had made him smile and laugh, and he couldn't help but taunt her, but she hadn't fallen into that. Instead, she insulted him, scowled and walked off without another word. Mayhap Joscelin should have turned away and led his war band further along . . . yet, he hadn't. He had stood because his men moved on a stomach, and they had food, water, and land to rest upon, and she was there . . . Adara.
Unfortunately, moving onwards, they had left their mark, and the enemy had taken up on it, accusing the villagers of assisting Joscelin and his forces. In turn, they had suffered. The men had been killed, the women used and slaughtered, and the children . . . It was enough to even make Joscelin turn away.
Years later Joscelin could still recall all of it vividly. |
[/blockquote] e x t r a s . weapons. Due to the King de Valore's longing for a son that would reflect his image, Joscelin was groomed to become a fierce combatant since youth. Joscelin's physical prowress has been honed since childhood, and his swordsmanship is second to none in all of Etrias. He has quick reflexes, impeccable timing and accuracy with a sword at close quarters, and has been known to be fierce from horseback as well. Joscelin tends to offhand a shield in the midst of
sample The very earth trembled beneath the feet of all walks of life as they meandered through the serpentine streets of a city that was built upon a city, and upon another. Faded mosaics of past champions merge to a myriad of stained-glass art that gleamed when the sun managed to cut through the smog and steam; through the shadows cast by cathedrals, temples and buildings that soar toward the sky. One could hear the toll of the bell then.
It's loud enough that the sound whistled through the streets and had blown past the doorsteps of many homes. It filled the ears of children, the elderly and lovers crying out their passion. It's the soft cry of the temples begging for tribute for the day; begging for the little that people have to spare and their prayers to their good God and Empress alike. Pay and give over your fortune for the good of mankind, or so that's what the bell asked of them; what the eunuchs of the temples asked for. Coin and goods that would be filtered to the military leg of the Empress who will, in turn, wrestle down any form of rebellious acts; protecting the populace from anyone who would dare to spout off any semblance of discomfort, and to protect them from the outside world beyond their shores.
This was their life. It's the life the people of Elysia had grown accustomed to; their verdant city churning with activity. Their blacksmiths pummeled upon their anvils and seamstresses sewed away while their feet pressed on the pedal of their wheels. Pitchmen cried out their wares in the market and others whispered in the darkest parts of the city. Prostitutes batted their lashes and courtesans blushed prettily, fluttering their eyes closed before accepting a coin purse and a man between their legs, or even a woman, who dared to explore their own fantasies. Children rushed to their schooling and classes quickly, of course, only if their parents could afford such. All the while soldiers marched the streets and cross-way bridges overhead. After all, they were the lifeblood of the city upon a city...upon a city.
As the city had grown, there still clung a semblance of the past life. It's the part of the city that had yet to conform to the rest of the happenings around them. It's the Palace of Elysia, with her high towers and her battlements teeming with soldiers; her walls thick and protected by a moat that's full of grime, muck and sewage from the surrounding establishments and plumbing. Despite the fact that the Palace looks aged, weathered and worn from the passage of winds and rains over the centuries, it hid away treasures beyond one's imagination, and the one treasure above them all...the Empress.
It's where she's kept above all else and where tokens of appreciation are left upon the massive steps of the Palace's walls; flanked by none other than two towering statues with the likeness of lions, their maws open soundlessly and their teeth bare for all to see. It's from where a little boy had begun to run; leaping down the steps and taking three at a time. He's the pebble that stirs an avalanche...the catalyst for the future, and at that moment he ran and was absolutely breathless.
His bare feet hit the cobble stones of the street after his final leap. He hunched there before peering over his shoulder to stare up at the mammoth statues that flanked the Palace's entryway that was wreathed with filigree. With his arms wrapping along the underside of his knees, the boy blows air out from the corner of his mouth, and had blown up stray strands of hair that tickled his brow until...
"Keep on moving street urchin!"
He yelped when the toe of a patrol guard's boot thumped along the underside of his thigh. It's more than enough to nearly make the boy sprawl, but he caught himself, and began to run off without so much as another word. Ah, he had nearly forgotten his task! That wouldn't do at all; after all, Magistrate Lupin would be mighty upset with him if he were to stray away. [/blockquote] [/td][/tr][/style] [/td][/tr][/table] [atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px, bTable][atrb=style, width: 200px; font-family: courier new; font-size: 10px; word-spacing: 1px; text-align: center;padding: 3px; line-height: 10px; text-transform:lowercase;] i, Andre, agree to sign my soul over follow the rules and have my soul thrown into the hungry lion pit if i'm ever found breaking them. i have 0 other characters. they are n/a. |
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Post by Fane Valeri Aleksandar on May 19, 2012 15:41:08 GMT -5
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