Post by Vash Zwingli on Jul 11, 2010 22:09:26 GMT -5
Canon Character Application
Character name: Vash Zwingli
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Height: 5'6" (168 cm)
Weight: 122 lbs. (55.3 kg)
Appearance: Vash is a short, young man with blond hair (in a chin-length bob cut) and green eyes. Vash wears a green hunting jacket, brown pants, and a black beret. Vash is often seen carrying a crossbow over his shoulder. He also has a cross-shaped scar on his left shoulder. He wears tall leather boots that have had their soles replaced many times. Vash is usually seen either grimacing or pondering, but few can tell the difference. He rarely smiles, but has been seen to laugh, albeit bitterly.
Personality: Vash has a complex personality. While he is a deeply passionate person, he keeps his feelings to himself (most of the time.) He appreciates order and discipline, but is short-tempered. He values solitude and frugality, but will do anything for those he cares about. He is practical, but will hold a grudge if grievously wronged. Vash does not warm up quickly to strangers, and will even lash out at people who invade his privacy.
He does not like reflecting on the past, and instead prefers throwing himself into useful hobbies, such as producing huge stores of weaponry. If Vash is skilled in something, and is complimented to his face on his talent or skill, he will shrug off the praise, citing the many people who are superior to him in that skill. For this reason, people have stated that Vash is too hard on himself, but he knows that only if he sets his goals high will he ever become great. He will stifle his own emotions, preferring practical calculation over emotional impulses (when he can control his emotions.) He can be very stubborn, but can be open-minded to new ideas if he respects their source. He is somewhat meticulous, and despises tardiness. For this reason he will never be seen without a pocket-watch (of Swiss make, of course.)
Vash spends most of his alone time honing his various skills; as a ranger, Vash is proficient with a bow and arrow, and adequately skilled at sword-fighting. He has an encyclopedic knowledge of most spells, but cannot grasp how to summon (and then control) summoned beings, despite his best efforts. He studies maps, and has a knack for finding hidden paths and shortcuts even in places he has never been before. His excellent navigation skills ensure he won’t become lost, and his vast knowledge of lore allows him to be prepared for any situation. He can identify most creatures by name, and vital points. Vash has studied herb-lore to the point that, wherever he is, he can locate and use local plants to make a healing salve for any ailment.
Class: Ranger
Likes:
+Privacy
+Solitude
+Punctuality
+Frugality
+Skill-building
+Rugged individualism
Dislikes:
-Nosiness
-Tardiness
-Extravagance
-Irrationality
-Wimps
-Wastefulness
Strengths:
Survival: Survival training in the wilderness of the Alps gives Vash the capability to survive in many climates. His knowledge of plant and animal life gives him a wealth of ideas to choose from when considering food options, and his navigational skills allow him to find his way back to camp when finished hunting. Minor wounds pose little issue once he has found and utilized the right herbal remedy.
Weapons knowledge: Vash’s militaristic hobby of producing weapons has given him a keen knowledge of most types of weaponry. Though he knows how to use nearly any weapon, he is much more skilled (and much prefers to use) an iron-wrought crossbow of which he maintains obsessively.
Decisiveness: Vash uses his general knowledge to confidently make split-second decisions. This practice usually does not steer him wrong. Usually.
Frugality: Vash will very carefully (and sensibly) use his money, in a way that ensures adequate living, and monetary security. He is very wise with how he spends his funds.
Weaknesses:
Stubbornness: Vash will become the “immovable object” if he believes that he is not in the wrong. It will take much convincing to persuade him to do something he has not set his mind on doing, and it will take just as much effort to persuade him to not do something that he has set his mind on.
Social discourse: Vash is not a refined speaker. He is blunt. He is bold. He can be uncaring of others. He can be furious with rage. Vash is simply not cut out for the minutia of social interaction.
Short temper: Vash has a short temper, and on top of that has triggers that can set it off instantly. His anger is quick to form, slow to dissipate, and his rage can develop into a simmering grudge.
History: The bastard son of a mercenary and his royal lover, Vash’s life was not easy. Vash had always assumed that the servant woman who raised him was his mother, but one day she told him the truth. Wracked with questions, Vash confronted his birth-mother against the servant woman’s desperate warnings. Nothing she could say or do could hold him back; he had to find security in truth again. Disaster struck when he petitioned his birth-mother for the truth.
Everyone at the royal table learned of the illegitimate son, the bastard-heir born of licentious affairs with a mere guardsman. In an ashamed rage, Vash’s birth-mother banished him from her canton. The mother demanded the witnesses be sworn to secrecy, but the damage was done. In time it came to be known that she was an adulterer, and she was also cast out of the canton, her ex-husband ruling in her stead. In that time, Vash had travelled far. As an exile from his own home, Vash lived as an outlaw in the woods. In time he came to meet other exiles and outlaws; he had discovered the culture of the exiled. From them he learned valuable skills in wilderness survival. He was a quick learner and rapidly had learned all he could about the local wildlife, and his mind was now on other things. Vash did not want to survive in the woods as an exile, hiding like a coward.
If Vash were to be an exile, he would make the most he could of it. He soon asked the leader of the exiles to teach him how to fight. The leader agreed reluctantly and showed Vash a few techniques. Vash practiced the techniques with such determination that at the next lesson, he had mastered them. The leader was impressed, and stepped up the training. Vash practiced and soon had earned himself a reputation. Vash came to be called “The Merc” because of his mercenary-like knowledge of all things weapon. Eventually though, Vash grew sick of the life of hiding; it was time to move on. Vash had learned from another exile that there was a city in the neighboring canton where Vash could start a new life. Vash did not travel to the bustle of the city out of some sense of adventure. Vash had a distinct goal in mind, when he left his forest home.
Vash promised himself that he would not waste valuable time and patience by interacting with the locals any more than he needed to, but he broke that promise. His original goal, to become a middle-class weapons trader by selling his wares in the city and then return back to the comfort of his home canton, did not come to pass. For reasons he will stubbornly not explain to most, Vash follows any news of Roderich he can get. The heart of the matter is that Vash and Roderich were childhood friends, but were separated just as their friendship was budding. Vash was (supposedly) the son of a servant-woman, and Roderich was the son of royalty. They only saw each other when Roderich’s family traveled to Vash’s canton, and even then Roderich did not always come along. When Roderich disappeared, Vash blamed himself and made a personal vow to never be caught unprepared again. His tracking of Roderich started when he overheard one of the townspeople talking about “that wonderful musician, Roderich.” Vash was shocked to find out that Roderich was here, at the city this whole time! Vash soon found out though, that Roderich traveled all over, and finding him has proven very difficult. Vash has still not caught up with Roderich. Vash’s weapons shop has brought him much needed money with which to maintain his life in the city, where his wildlife survival is useless and he must purchase food instead of hunt and grow it.
Sample Post: Another day, just one more day here and then I can go back home. After tomorrow I’m sure I’ll have sold the last knife, the last arrow. Vash got out of his bed. He lumbered over to his small closet and pulled out a set of pants and put them on. He pulled a shirt over his head, and buttoned his hunting jacket up over it. He took a pair of socks and pulled them on. He grabbed his boots and started to lace them, when he noticed the mud caked onto them. He grabbed a brush and scrubbed the dirt off of them until they were relatively clean, and then put them on. He leaned over a bucket of water and fixed his collar, and examined his growing stubble. Vash pulled a knife out of his pocket, flicked it open, drew it up to his face, and started to shave. The water rippled as the shavings fell, and Vash waited patiently for it to show his reflection again. When the water calmed, his face was neatly shaven. He fixed his collar again and brushed his hair out of his eyes before he walked out the door.
Vash never liked cities. Cities are loud. Cities smell bad. Cities are expensive to live in. Cities are crowded. Vash ignored his displeasure though because his need to make a living surpassed his desire to avoid the bustle of the chaotic city life. Vash walked quickly to his shop. He pulled out his pocket-watch and checked the time. He was three minutes ahead. Good, I’m making good time; I’ll get their early enough to improve the display. Vash soon arrived at his store front, and turned the key in the locked door. He walked in and closed the door behind him, relishing the calm silence. In two minutes, this place will be a hellish whirlwind of people wanting to buy stabbing things, slicing things, shooting things, slinging things. Good. I’ve got to make money somehow. Vash walked back to the front door and propped it open. He started to walk back in when he heard some people outside.
“Fool, don’t you know who that is?”
“Yerself’s the fool!”
“’E’s a musician, ‘e is.”
“They say that ‘is mot’er was an elf, and ‘is noble family threw ‘im out on the streets. Wa’n’t enough to keep ruin from fallin’ on their ‘eads, tho’.”
“I ‘ear tell that his family died of disease!”
“No, ye dimwit, ‘twas politics!”
“Oi, you there!” Vash yelled to the beggars, “Who’re you talking about?”
“What? What business is it of ye?”
“Answer the question. I sell weapons for a living,” Vash said, glaring.
“Alright, ye don’ have to threaten, I was just wonderin’. We were talkin’ ‘bout the bard Roderich, famous ‘round here. Surprised ye haven’t heard of ‘im.”
Vash stood there in stunned silence. This whole time, he’s been here? Roderich has been here? I must find him!
“Oi, what’s th’matter with ye? Why’re ye ju-“ Vash slammed the door behind him as he ran upstairs to the shop’s storeroom. I’ve got to find him, I’ll do anything it takes to just meet him again! To ask what happened, maybe ask for forgiveness. I’ve got to find him! Vash searched and found his best crossbow he had. It was made of iron, and fired heavy bolts. He packed up other survival items and went back downstairs. Locking the door behind him, he ran down the alleyway in search of his first and only friend.
“Oi wait, where’re you going!…” one beggar yelled after Vash.
“’E’s a crazy one for sure. What d’ye make o’ it?” the other said, looking at the closed shop.
“That ‘e is. ‘Tis the truth.”
BRITANNIA BEAM!