Zoids: Chaotic Age Zero |
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An indepedent Zoids RPG Website. |
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Character Name: Amarant Pri Advanced Character Profile: Physical Appearance: Amarant has a sort of lumbering posture at 5 feet 10 inches of height, but a good 173 pounds round him out decently in the end. His face is sternly built with a square and powerful jaw, a high brow, and cold piercing eyes which fade from shades of green to blue and back in a seemingly random procession. Mostly straight by nature, his hair runs a good two or three feet down his back and is sometimes tied back into a dirty blonde mess, particularly when he’s in a fight and it could become a nuisance. Clothing: Red, Black, and Silver are the colors of choice for Amarant, a bit cliché but, really, who can say every last detail of their being is completely original in this day and age? He likes to wear a set of dark red trousers with black boots underneath, a silver undershirt with a red and black button-up over that—though it’s usually left open—and finally he wears an old red cloak like you’d see on a count or other nobleman with the inside done in a softer material dyed his complementing silver. Accessories: The cloak Amarant wears is held up by a silver clasp bearing the coat-of-arms of his family, who were considered to be very influential at the beginning of the war. An old zippo lighter is also tucked away in his pants, and he fishes it out from time to time when someone needs a little fire. One odder family heirloom is a silver pocket-watch that doesn’t tick, because it hasn’t worked in years, and really the only reasons he still keeps it are the picture on the inside and the memories it holds. Of course, one always needs to have survival gear along, and Amarant keeps a backpack containing a grapple, a first-aid kit, a gun cleaning kit, survival rations, an emergency radio, some flares, and all the other basic necessities one could imagine tucked under his cloak (the contents of this bag may be further expounded upon in role-play as other things may be added during specific incidents, these will be made apparent prior and not simply “pulled from the moon” as though it were a magic bag, however). Weapons: Never having been one to appreciate guns in a man-to-man battle, Amarant keeps a Colt .45 M1911 tucked away in a hip holster designed to blend with his pants very well under the cloak, and he wouldn’t be shy to use it if the situation called for it. Amarant, however, took a love of history and reading about the chivalrous battles that took place with bladed weapons, and he learned the arts of fencing and swordsmanship despite arguments that no fool would fight him with steel over gunpowder. On his left side he has slung a rapier with silvered pommel and guard with hilt wrapped in black cord: long and thin but forged of newer metals more resistant to permanent warping and breakage, and honed to the kind of sharpness even his shaving razor dreams of. Character History: Amarant was the second son in a family that had fallen from their former power, having once been great financial backers of the Zoid Battle Commission. Times changed, however, and the research team the Pri family had funded wound up hitting a horrible conclusion that ceased all continued work in that line of inquiry. Needless to say, the termination of this “black project” could not be made public, and therefore no return on the given funds was forthcoming. A few short years later, the Pri family was left part of the middle-class and minus their oldest son, who was killed—reportedly—by members of Neo-Backdraft. Amarant didn’t mind this change of events, he had always hated his brother for being so snide and stuck-up, and he felt more at home in the slums with local children. Falling from grace just put him closer to where he wanted to be, and for a while Amarant was happy working an honest job to earn his day’s keep. At the wonderful age of eighteen, however, his happy life was shattered when his father presented him with his letter of induction into the military. The fact he didn’t want to be a soldier didn’t amount to anything; it was his duty to take up his brother’s mantle and hold high the family name so they could retain their honor if nothing else. To hell with honor. Amarant left home just as he was told, took the money and got himself into the market to look for a Zoid of his own, but life never goes the way you want it to. He couldn’t go back to his family without being a war hero, and his mind was set against joining the ZBC or any other faction in this bloodbath. The only thing that mattered was that he was free to choose his own path unlike all the men in his family who threw away their lives for the sake of a noble name, for something as intangible as one’s honor. Tagging along at his side he found a good friend in his mechanic, Evelyn Heiss, who in turn was looking to enlist into the military for a profit. Working together they had formed somewhat of a band of mercenaries to earn their keep, and they wandered across the central continent for a few years. The particulars of that time have remained mostly mysterious, nearly as much as the relationship the two share, since they seem closer than friends but certainly an odd pairing of lovers. Amarant has professed to be a master of Zoid battling in order to help urge prospective employers to take him on, but in reality his history of fighting in the machines against live opponents is all but nothing, and it takes little for one to realize a person and a sleeper drone are nothing alike. After a great deal of nagging and debate the decision had been made, it was time to come join the real world again. Evelyn and Amarant finally came riding into town and began the arduous task of looking for work, and the idea of sanctioned battles for sport and profit was one the old boy just couldn’t leave be. |
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