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 [Deschain] Anders

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SilverBones

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Posts : 41
Join date : 2013-01-20
Age : 23
Location : California

PostSubject: [Deschain] Anders   Sun Feb 24, 2013 5:32 pm




Fire and Blood




a n d e r s
Anders is a sixteen-year-old male shapeshifter.
He was born in Dorne but has left those red lands; therefore, he does not pledge his allegiance to the Martells, but to House Targaryen.

He is regrettably 'employed' (rather loosely, I'd say) by a particularly nasty handler as a street whore. (He seeks an out, wherever that out may come from.)

Anders is seemingly meek and subservient, but that is out of necessity; he was born in the red wastes and bears the unbreakable heart of a Dornishman no matter where he goes. He is adaptable and versatile, whip-quick when it comes to learning street-smarts, hawkishly observant, and sharp-tongued when he has an opportunity to speak. However, he still has a bit of a young spirit, so he is easily hurt and often retreats to lick his wounds where no one can see, wishing fervently that someone in the world thought more of him than just another worker or another body to abuse. Whenever someone makes a dig at his softness, though, he will deny it vehemently enough to come to blows over it.
The one area in which he is particularly weak is loyalty and honour. He does not believe himself to be honourable at all, and does not see why he would want to be -- unless he wished to die, and he doesn't. His cunning is still being developed, since he hasn't had much of an opportunity to use it, but the potential is there, and waiting.

Anders stands at a rather gangly five-foot-eight; he would be statuesque if he wasn't so skinny, but he lives on meagre means. His thinness is punctuated by wiry muscle, gained from almost-constant travel and working, and his hands are beginning to develop callouses. He is dark-skinned and often ashen with the dust of the streets, and his hair is thick and twisted into dreadlocks that are often unkempt. His most prominent features are his eyes; he has the eyes of a serpent -- sharp, vividly green and gold, and slitted. At first glance, he doesn't look like much, but he'd clean up very well if he were allowed to do so.

Anders can shift into a gold-and-black snake, but his abilities are currently dormant since he rarely gets to eat enough to fuel the shift. With a healthier lifestyle, his ability would be restored.

His strengths lie in his power animal's gifts -- cunning, adaptability, and the ease with which he can become whomever he needs to be to get the job done. His weakness lies in the intensity of his passion, which often leads to anger or intense emotions that hinder his survival.

Anders does not have any armour; his garments are simple at best and tattered at worst, and he cannot afford anything better on his meagre wages. He does keep a short dagger tied to his shin, because no one dares travel through the streets of Braavos unarmed unless they've a deathwish.

-x-x-x-

Anders was born in Dorne to a simple family -- a father who was a merchant by trade, and a mother who designed exquisite garments but did not have the means to craft them, so she kept a basic garment stand in the marketplace instead.
His mother was a superstitious sort, and when she saw her son's serpentine eyes, she knew he would cause them pain, because children cursed with the ability to shift were children no parent would be able to hold onto.

But this knowledge tainted how she treated Anders; she was more aloof towards him than she might have been otherwise, less nurturing, as if she was protecting herself from future hurt. This may have caused Anders' leaving to be a self-fulfilled prophecy more than anything else, since he never felt a tie to 'home' and didn't seem to like Dorne anyway, but was ultimately pushed out by his parents' distance and his desire to find something greater.

He left home at the age of twelve, brash and bold and contemptuous of the sands and mountains that threatened his passage. Like most children, he didn't understand the task he'd undertaken, and had to learn quickly in order to find ways to travel safely -- working on caravans, stowing away on ships, that sort of thing. From Dorne he found the sea, and not realising that there were lands to the north of Dorne if he'd just kept going that way, he saw the sea as his path. In this manner, he found his way to Essos.

He heard stories from the seafarers -- about Qarth, about Volantis, about lush and bountiful lands full of spices and colour and life. He was eager to see these lands, but it is not in golden Qarth or fertile Lys in which he ended up -- it was Braavos, a fine city if one had a trade or a skill or was just especially cunning, but not at all a place for a boy like Anders who thought himself a man.

At first he worked as a swabbie, since he'd just been on a ship for a long period of time and knew how that worked; however, he was more anxious to explore Braavos and wandered into the city proper, catching the eagle-eye of a slave handler who saw good coin in this dark-skinned, jewel-eyed colt. Anders, young-minded as he was, thought of courtesans and house-boys when he thought of prostitution, but was unpleasantly slapped with a reality that was as unglamorous as it was demeaning.

Presently, he still works the streets of Braavos, despite his hidden talents (he is a fine artist and would make a wonderful apprentice, for example) and his iron heart; he may be Dornish by genetics, but he feels more bowed, bent, and broken than he's ever felt.
Still, he will not give up, and he most definitely will not let himself be lost to the streets of Braavos, not without a fight.


Blood of my Blood

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