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* Plot Information for Dea al Mon

Gale Galoneth, Queen of Dea al Mon is desperate. 11 of her 12 daughters have fallen ill to the mysterious Waste. While the Brood of the True Born try to conquer her Territory she has opened its borders to call for aid.
Culture of Dea al Mon
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Author Topic: Flair Rilindisil  (Read 1863 times)

Description: Prince. Summer Sky to Purple Dusk. Played by Haloriel.

Offline Flair Rilindisil

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Flair Rilindisil
« on: Jul 07, 16, 07:46:10 AM »
The Basics

Character Name: Flair Rilindisil
Nicknames: Breaker, 'Chief Flint,' Major Ironclad (his sister)
Age & Birthyear: 63 | 130 AP
Race: Dea al Mon
Caste: Prince
Birth Territory: Esgarth, Dea al Mon
Home Territory: Esgarth, Dea al Mon

Birthright Jewel: Cut Summer Sky
Offering Jewel:  Cut Purple Dusk

Role: Major
Faction: Ebon Guard

Appearance



Play By: Leebo Freeman (as a blonde)

Distinguishing Features: His left brow has a slice through it where the hair never grew back which continues through the eyelid and below the eye, ending at the bottom of his cheekbone. When nude, tattoos that shimmer faintly with the Purple Dusk of his jewel are apparent upon his back with all of the names of those he has served with personally and have lost their lives defending Dea al Mon.

From his left shoulder to the end of his shoulder blades, they rest. Down his arms and forearms especially are a number of old scars; while down his right side rests one that crosses from sternum to almost groin. Flair has an intensity to his expression that makes the ultramarine of his gaze either one that is difficult to look at for long periods of time (especially if he doesn't like the viewer), or perhaps one with the potential to be lost in. The pure silver-white of his hair stands out starkly complements said eyes. The Major never goes anywhere unarmed or unarmoured. Even in formal court attire when he does make an appearance, it is both reinforced with thin threads of Craft, leather and delicate, decorative mail, all in unrelieved midnight.

Spoiler: Beyond Simplicity (click to show/hide)



Personality


Personality: A photograph is a thousand words. Flair amounts to less than that; he is not a complex male as opposed to both courteous and as near to an open book as one of the Blood can be. With millennia of history of the Rilindisil men not born to the Caste of Warlord Prince having taken life service in the Ebon Guard despite any increase in rank, the man was aware that even with a familial history revolving primarily around the middling village of Linithor in northern Esgarth, his life would be dedicated to that of the military. A matter of time, it was.

His great-grandfather Verglas Rilindisil being one of the previous Lord Obsidian noted for greatly assisting in reparations and keeping order had an immense impression on Flair as a youth. That rare selection solidified the idea of service and honour paired with the life of others before his own, entwined with the Protocol the Blood have followed and for the protection of every life in Dea al Mon. It left Flair with a personality of sheathed steel.

Passion remains, distinctly controlled by a sense of propriety unyielding and permitted to the most worthy. When he is moved toward personal loyalty it is not blinding. No Queen has been able to penetrate the manner of his presence with the exception of his late grandmother whom he bonded with as a very young boy and subsequently lost due to her advanced age. The threads of that tie linger akin to a limb removed before its time, which have sharpened his resolve over the fifty-three years since the woman's death. Calculated and vigilant in a way that speaks to his long understanding of tactics, most of his service was that of an enlisted man by choice until a slow climb due to a blend of familial prestige and well thought out maneuvers against the Brood eventually gained him the rank of Major.

These facts colour his conduct, that he has served among the lowest, invisible recruit with an exemplary record spanning from mere days following his Offering until the present, equalling a total of forty years, minus two six month leaves due to previous injuries. Flair expects excellence in all near while tolerating little to no foolishness. When the Major speaks, it is with a purpose regardless of whether merely a single phrase.

Likes:

  • 1 Discipline: A somewhat flexible rigidity. Correct and proper presentation. Well behaved and considerate with others. These are traits that Flair appreciates, expects, and hones in himself and in others that surround him. With the dire seriousness of the concerns that face the Dea al Mon, he sees no reason that anyone, save a small child cannot present themselves with poise, grace and most of all, respect for all others, even in dislike. Warlord Princes are the only exception to this.

  • 2 Needlepoint: As a gentleman of the Ebon Guard, stitching his own uniforms back to proper appearance always appealed to him, so he learned to sew. From bandages to a fine silk shirt, Flair has the tightest stitches known, at least perhaps for a man. It made for less trouble when out on the field, and of course, anything he is capable of, his men are required to do themselves.

  • 3 Strategic Entertainment: Chess. Fencing. These are two among many entertainments that the Major enjoys. A profligate dancer as well, he prides himself upon his grace, understanding of tactics, and ability to quickly think through near any situation thrown at him. As one of Colonel Falx Rothilion's finest, there simply is not an option of being the most skilled in every task he completes. He trained his half sister, Charisma, in all manner of bladed weaponry to distract her after the loss of her third child to the Waste.

    Dislikes:

  • 1 Condescension: Flair was born to one of the oldest Dea al Mon Aristocratic families, yet due his long military service and expectation for excellence, behaviors that belittle the hard work of others as a result of birth or jewel rank are a particular bone deep annoyance. His late mother had been one that expresses the trait toward the commoner lines, with the difficulty that presently faces his people, he finds it abhorrent. He has had to learn to ruthlessly check it in himself due to his upbringing. Decades have passed since he's broken Protocol, though the lesson remains. Seldom does the Prince lose his temper, or allow the 'silver spoon in the mouth' to slip out, yet he is ruthless toward recruits that will not bend in the favour of his offered wisdom. The Major has nearly come to killing blows with those under his command that do not come to heel and persist in stupidity.

  • 2 Pointless/Avoidable Violence: Violent situations that can be avoided, such as the lack of use of Protocol when dealing with the various female and male Castes of the Blood are a deep irritant. The purpose of such strict adherence is to prevent unneeded death, of which there already is too much of among the Dea al Mon. 'Do what is expected. Waste my time less.' He has been known to run recruits to the Ebon Guard into the fucking ground for both insubordination and heedless, stupid arrogance. Many call him 'Breaker' due to the number of new recruits that have run afoul of Flair and been taught a rough lesson in what it means to be a Prince of the Blood at a pinnacle of expertise.

  • 3 Covetousness: It is one thing to desire more for one's self, Flair feels, but to ill wish, or have a need to pry what belongs to another to one's self when so many are suffering, dead, and continually in mourning - he has no time, patience, nor interest in that kind of self-serving behaviour. His life revolves around a kill or is killed situation constantly when not stationed in areas with a modicum of peace.

    Fears:

  • 1 Permanent Injury: Having been injured twice and needed to go on leave for six months both times for previous injury, both during offensive movements in the now lost province of Kassel, he fears gravely permanent injury, particularly having lost so many men under his command to the Brood. They are strong, he feels, and likely stronger than the Dea al Mon. In this regard, Flair has known a number of men ending up fully broken in facing off against the strangeness of them. It is a fear because it means for him the end of an ability to keep those important to him safe. The gentleman has lost a wife and tends to his children without her gentle, guiding hand. If not for his half sister Charisma tentatively stepping in despite her own horrific losses, it would be most dire a situation.

  • 2 Forlorn Hope/Loss of Esgarth to the Brood: Already, Kassel is gone, likely either unrecoverable or only possible at the immense price. Four times he has been in major offensive and not expected to return, and managed merely pyrrhic victories which have come at the price of a list of dead that lines his back in a permanent tattoo. He waits to be the next and hates the idea that someone will need to go to his children, his sister, his brother and tell them of his death or worse - a personal loss to the Brood.  Beyond that, the idea that Esgarth could be taken next keeps the Prince often waking in the worst, nightmarish visions that he cannot shake.  Often, he does not sleep and simply pushes on to the next task assigned by the Lord Purifier - unshakable, unkillable.

  • 3 Further Diplomatic Assistance: That the Queen of the Dea al Mon has now opened the borders weighs heavily upon his mind even while he understands it was the right thing to do. He does not like or want to entertain the idea that they could need assistance from strangers, outsiders that do not understand the perfection of their people. That worse, they could sully the forest lands worse than the Brood ever could.

    Craft Strengths:

  • 1 Finishing Kills: Flair specialises in finishing kills with Craft in particular, able to both render his enemy dead with considerable pain, just as he is capable of performing the most gentle of deaths. True, the male does not stand deeply in the Abyss, but to make up for this he has spent all of his time within the Ebon Guard with precision training for making use of what he does have, rather than being concerned over what he might lack. 'If there is time to consider my lack, then there is time to kill. This is not an option.'

  • 2 Combat Shielding: His skill with combat shielding, creating shields of different sizes, and making use of them offensively is something of a natural talent that Flair has honed over the decades to the point that he can use the most minimal Craft to produce and maintain one. In a situation that he must remain in combat for hours without rest, this specific strength has both come in very good stead and has as well been graciously honed with a deadly focus.

    Craft Weaknesses:
  • 1 Fine Telekinetic Craft: Fine telekinetic craft was never something the young Flair was able to focus on with much patience despite his considerable wealth of personal and applied discipline. He always possessed more skill with direct confrontational Craft that involved weaponry than moving items about in delicate, seamless fashion. While he may understand the use inherent in it, the Prince feels that there are no doubt others better suited to the task and study. He finds this unfortunate, as while he likes and finds value in its use especially being possessed of a somewhat lighter Jewel, he is still unable to manage most of these types. He compensates by completing certain tasks by hand without Craft at all: sword polishing, stitching.

  • 2 Emotional Manipulation: Manipulating the actions of people without Craft requires an honour that is flexible and a mind that is considerably less rigid. Emotional manipulation when added to the former calls for a specific method of twisting empathy through Craft. Flair is enough of, if not fully a hidebound (read: traditional) man that his very demeanour makes this skill very difficult despite the immense use on a battlefield. For him, it is akin to grasping at shadows and broken strings of Craft that no longer resonate. While he respects those that are capable of it for the patience they have in this particular manner he has precisely no ability, despite having had some training in it for the purpose of dealing with enemy combatants. Not only does it take a specific type of finesse in the use of this kind of Craft, it requires an emotional openness Flair lacks.


    Life Story

    Family:

    Spoiler: Deceased Kin (click to show/hide)

    Aunt: Periwinkle Larethis; The Smiling Queen; Matriarch of the Larethis Clan - Age: 175 - Ruling Queen of Linithor, Northern Esgarth in Bad Wildungen.  Aristo. Called also, The Happy Queen, Enduring One, Sweet Peri, by those that know her well. Tiger Eye - Purple Dusk (from Thorn's family rolls)

    Siblings:

    Sister (half): Charisma Rilindisil-Larethis. Age: 65. Queen.  Daughter to Queen Periwinkle and former First Escort Shore Rilindisil.  Purple Dusk - Sapphire (from Thorn's family rolls). Took her father's surname out of contractual agreement after his death.

    Brother(s):

    Cedar Rilindisil. Warlord Prince. Bonded to Queen Periwinkle. Tiger Eye - Summer Sky. (from Flair's rolls) 74.

    Children:

    Vibrant Rilindisil. Queen. Age Three as of 191 AP; Born of Torch. Will be Blood Opal - Green.
    Deft Rilindisil. Warlord Prince. Age Ten as of 191 AP; Born of Torch. Purple Dusk - Green [Will have after Offering]  (from Flair's rolls)

    Niece:

    Cherish Rilindisil, Queen. Rose - Purple Dusk (from Flair's rolls). Born to Teak. 37 | 154 AP.

    Nephew:

    Esteem Rilindisil - born to Teak, Warlord. Summer Sky - Opal. (from Flair's rolls) 32 | 159 AP

    History:

    Service.

    Flair's had never been in a Court and nor did he truly expect that would occur, despite the fact that he had a knowledge of Protocol that he knew as well as the back of his hand. The Rilindisil name meant much in regards to the protection of the Realm. The men of his line had served in the Ebon Guard for life unless they were born to the Caste of Warlord Prince. So, as a young Prince even before he received his Birthright, he knew what he would spend his life as. His parents died rather young, or at least interrupted; Shore Rilindisil to the Waste, and his mother in Red Cloak service.

    Military. A soldier. Orders would be his life, and it was the same for most of his brothers, this expectation. Summer Sky, cut. That had been his gift from the Darkness, and he treasured it. Craft, diplomacy, weapons training became his life, interspersed with the general finery of being a child, and even that was interspersed by the Spectre of Death's hand. He grew accustomed in those early days, like many of the Dea al Mon.

    Offering gave him the cut Purple Dusk, which was as well a joyous event, though not so excellent as being told that he had two months to plan his entry into the Ebon Guard that his great-grandfather had been once appointed to lead. While that position did not interest him, serving for life did. He could imagine no other task. Training as a recruit went with elegant precision. In near each task, he was either at the top of his unit in performance or at least as near as he could possibly manage.

    The years whirled by while he watched his brothers fall in dutiful service, some of which were bonded to Charisma, and while she is a half sibling, it was difficult to watch those shattered relationships. Deaths of each of under his command, so many of them gone to battle against the Brood particularly with the loss of the Kassel province sharpened Flair's resolve to his duties and service in the Ebon Guard; life service seemed no longer an honoured tradition but a true need. Once, because he had survived he even wished that they could share such a care, but it was not to be. All he could offer was the comfort, and then further duty which Flair pressed himself to with an intensity few possessed. The displacement of so many families, as well as a result of the Waste, only increased that need of a solution.

    Along the way he was noticed by upper command, the service of his family and the history recalled which gained him the rank of Major after sixty years of service. Now, he serves particularly at The Lord Purifier's call, for whatever task required of him - he is the only man that Flair considers the late Verglas Rilindisil's equal, despite his lesser blood, as well as Lighter gems. Working with and beneath this gentleman has in particular shown Flair that it is not always bloodlines, nor jewel strength that determines might. Elsewise of late since the death of his Lady Wife a year previous, a gentle Hearth Witch and another cousin that had descended to the Yellow, he serves in Eddersea.

    While it has been an honour, and Flair would never abandon either his place in the Guard or his family, his primary thoughts rest especially of what will happen next with the southern region lost to them and whom will be the saviour of the Dea al Mon. Something still needs to be done in Kassel. For the memory of the fallen. For Torch.

    Show Us What You've Got


    Character in Play:

    Musical Embellishment (Spotify) : Love and Hate

    I'll beat the drum here in the cold. My blood runs slow here in the winter. You left me naked and exposed; I am that heart you sold to sorrow. You could've given love ...you could've given love!
    Alright, see ... Don't give up on me. Wait. Don't leave me ... Don't leave me ... Lead me to the light! ... It's getting red! Ooh. In a thin line; in a thin line. Between love and hate.


    Cold.

    He did not prefer the winter, not anymore. Truth was, he hated it. Despised the cold. His cold bed, the cold after a loss. Losing his Queen's Bond with his Grandmother near that time of year caused him to realise what the gift of her grace had been to him much of his life. It had been taken for granted. More fool he had been, for that. The need to explain to his son and daughter that their blessed mother was gone from the world, lost to the same sickness that had taken their cousins, uncles, and so many others were the hardest task he had ever undertaken. Love. It was draining from his life out of a fucking sieve. It was one matter writing a letter or attending the Funeral Rites of one under his command, or telling the family that the body had been "lost". Those were expected duties that he had long adjusted to, as difficult as it was Every ... Single ... Time.

    Damn it, Torch. Walk your ass back through that fucking door.

    More difficult than the worst battles that occasionally, when the children were with his relatives, kept him awake all hours of the night. His hand curled around the chair in which three evenings had been spent in silence. Tonight, however, his son and daughter were home, dinner had been served and eaten. The question had been avoided. They were aware that their mother, Torch, had been ill, but he had made the choice not to explain. 

    After all, how does one tell a five-year-old, and a twelve-year-old that their mother is gone?

    "Father?"

    Shit. He swore internally. Mother Night.

    Do not ask. For the love of the Darkness, one more night. One more night of pretense, of peace--

    "Where is Mother?"

    Flair faced his son with a grim, steady expression, and the boy moved toward his father, the image of him with the exception of that untamed presence in him that marked Deft as a Warlord Prince. It made matters in the household when Torch had still been with them often amusing and deeply so. Tears shimmered in the man's gaze now. He held out his hands to his son, thanking heavens now that she had not been a Queen and his boy bonded to her. What shit would that have been?

    "She is dead, Prince Deft. She went quietly."

    He did not tell his son he had in fact, taken his mother's life as carefully as possible rather than see her suffer. Deft would not have understood it, yet.

    He had not prepared himself for the furious response from the boy, the cry that ripped from the young, small body. Thankfully he could redirect that anger, that rage. He allowed Deft to cry, to shriek, to throw things, taking care only with what was thrown. Finally, the child spent all that anger and pain, he pulled the boy into his arms.

    "No. She isn't gone.  She can't be. Give her back."

    "Give. Her. Back."

    "I cannot do that, son. But I wish I ... could take her place."

    The two males - fell silent. An hour passed, the fireplace crackled.

    "We can not tell Vibrant. Not yet." It was a demand; Flair nodded agreement.

    Thinking about his daughter, a little Queen, he nodded and felt older suddenly than his years.

    What was he going to do with a baby Queen?

    "No, we cannot."

    "I will keep my sister safe," Deft remarked sharply, in a voice that was too old for its mere decade of life.

    "For now, it is bedtime, young one."

    Not for him. There would be no sleep this night.

    It mattered little. By dawn, he was still expected at his station and would be there, as he had always been.

    Service.

    Player Name: Haloriel
"Everything for their small, innocent eyes, I am."
♪ Writer's Tracker | A Midnight Dreaming Rose ♪

Online Haloriel

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Re: Flair Rilindisil
« Reply #1 on: Jul 07, 16, 10:23:58 PM »
-smiles lightly and whispers sweet nothings to a D20-

Good d20.  That's right. We'll have a nine course dinner and everything, plus all the nerd movies ever. Yes good d20 ...

Ahem. -insert best big stupid smile-


I mean um.  One General Random roll please, and five family rolls, if some dear, kind, fantastic soul could be ever so kind when there is a free moment!

-Haloriel
"The difference between true nobility and false is this. One is gold put to the use of paving stones. The other is tin polished to ape a service of silver. Both are cruel."
♪ Writer's Tracker | A Midnight Dreaming Rose ♪




Offline Nicole

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Re: Flair Rilindisil
« Reply #2 on: Jul 08, 16, 01:21:39 AM »
As requested...

General Random
Weighed by Mother Night...

You've risen from the Darkness twice blessed with a cut Summer Sky birthright Jewel, and were gifted with a cut Green Jewel at your offering.

&

Congratulations

And your five family rolls!

Family
1. Tiger Eye - Summer Sky
2. Summer Sky - Opal
3. Rose - Purple Dusk
4. Blood Opal - Green
5. Purple Dusk - Green

Green is apparently your color tonight!












Online Haloriel

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Re: Flair Rilindisil
« Reply #3 on: Jul 08, 16, 04:41:01 AM »
As absolutely beautiful that the Green Descent is, I am going to slide nicely back to Purple Dusk Descent, please.

The family rolls are fantastic though, thank you!

-Haloriel
"The difference between true nobility and false is this. One is gold put to the use of paving stones. The other is tin polished to ape a service of silver. Both are cruel."
♪ Writer's Tracker | A Midnight Dreaming Rose ♪




Offline phinneas

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Re: Flair Rilindisil
« Reply #4 on: Jul 10, 16, 07:40:37 AM »
Per your request for a Descent reduction...

Weighed by Mother Night...

You've risen from the Darkness twice blessed with a cut Summer Sky birthright Jewel, and were gifted with a cut Purple Dusk Jewel at your offering.

&

Congratulations
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Offline Falx Rothilion

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Re: Flair Rilindisil
« Reply #5 on: Jul 13, 16, 10:36:13 AM »

"Bring him to me"





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Re: Flair Rilindisil
« Reply #6 on: Jul 13, 16, 10:47:52 AM »
All right. This gent is ready for review.

-Haloriel
"The difference between true nobility and false is this. One is gold put to the use of paving stones. The other is tin polished to ape a service of silver. Both are cruel."
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Re: Flair Rilindisil
« Reply #7 on: Jul 16, 16, 08:48:37 AM »

This application has been reviewed!

Check your private messages for feedback. When you have made the requested changes please reply to this post and let us know you are ready for the next round!

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Re: Flair Rilindisil
« Reply #8 on: Jul 17, 16, 06:07:59 PM »
Changes made as desired to the best of ability!

Prepared for secondary review pass, thank you.

-Haloriel

"The difference between true nobility and false is this. One is gold put to the use of paving stones. The other is tin polished to ape a service of silver. Both are cruel."
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Offline phinneas

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Re: Flair Rilindisil
« Reply #9 on: Jul 18, 16, 02:18:51 PM »
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