narcissus demergo

[Atra]

GENERAL INFORMATION
Character Name: Narcissus Demergo
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Date of Birth: Glacialis 2
Race: Soturi
Current Residence: Makria
Class: Lower-Middleclass

Occupation: Hunter
Affiliation: None


PROS AND CONS
Strengths/Skills:
• Silent
• Good tracker
• Finely tuned instincts
• Strong aptitude for survival
• Determination

Weaknesses:
• Relies too much on gut instinct
• Lets emotions get in the way

Gifted Combat Skills: Skilled in many weapons (Bow & Arrow, blades, and traps.)
Gifted Magics: Amateur
Gifted Stealth Skills: Agile, sly, marksman, sneaky, silent, good at escaping.


PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS
Height: 6' 5"
Weight: 180 pounds
Physical Build: Lean
Hair Color: Indigo
Eye Color: Slate grey
Description:
Narcissus is tall, not a towering giant, but tall. He has a lean, powerful body. An intimidating figure in general, really. His skin is very lightly tanned, just enough so that it's a lie to call him pale. His complexion is unusual, and many do not realize that he is in fact a Soturi. He has thin hands with long fingers, one would call them piano hands, and they are very nimble and very quick.

His general appearance is blue. All the way from his dark blue hair to the faded lights and darks of his blue clothes, which are the only things he ever wears. What isn't blue is desaturated, most of it being gray. His eyes are the color of gray rock, and have the same hardness in them. Whereas most people have emotion in their eyes, Narcissus doesn't. This isn't to say he doesn't have emotion, he just doesn't show it. The rest of his face is smooth, not really significant. His eyelashes are long and black, and detract from his generally cold exterior.


PERSONALITY AND BELIEFS
Alignment: Lawful good
Religious Affiliation: Holy
Likes: Hunting, tracking, the forest, nature, animals (go figure), swimming, organization, privacy.
Dislikes: War, anarchy, cowardice, vampires, evil, complaint.
Description:
Narcissus has a very do-or-die personality. He hates it when people whine about their lives yet do nothing to fix it. It makes him enraged, and he often yells at people who complain. Which can be very scary, if you're made him angry enough. He's incredibly determined in everything he does, and he finishes everything he starts. It gives him a very strong personality, and a strong vibe in general. Though people as emotionally strong as he is tend to be brutes with little personality; such is not the case with Narcissus.

Despite his name, Narcissus is actually very modest and cares about others a lot. He seems closed off and cold, but he's actually very kind and approachable. His undying determination makes him an excellent friend and a horrible enemy. He is personable and polite, albeit a little bit sexist. He believes women should not be warriors, that fighting should be left only to men. He would never mention that, though, to a woman. He often keeps his opinions to himself. He likes hearing others talk about themselves, but will probably not divulge much information about himself except to his friends.

HISTORY AND BACKGROUND
The upbringing of Narcissus was not the most pleasant, but it could have been worse. His mother did not believe in the Gods, in these gods anyways, instead she followed myths of a lost time that nobody even remembers where they come from or who wrote them. Her favorite story was that of a boy who was so vain as to turn down a beautiful nymph and fall in love with his own reflection, and when he died he turned into a beautiful flower, now called a Narcissus. She loved the story because she hated the character, Narcissus, and in the end he turned into a plant. How satisfying could you get?

She never wanted to be a mother, she didn't want children, they were a burden and did nothing but trouble mothers for years. Seeing them as selfish, greedy creatures that took, took, took, but never gave anything back. Tiny, loud monsters that never appreciated what was given to them because they were too wrapped up in their own little lives.

So powerful was her hatred for children, that when she had a child of her own, she decided to spite him his entire life, starting with his name. She named him after the character she hated most, what she thought all children were like. She named him Narcissus, the epitome of selfishness, disgrace, and ungratefulness.

His mother was a crazy bitch, to put it mildly. She was obsessive and shrill, always micro-managing Narcissus' life and trying to know things. She came up with the most irritating nicknames, and never shut the hell up about how much she hated the mythological Narcissus. She was constantly verbally abusing him, putting him down, and making him feel generally awful.

"Narcy, why weren't you home by sundown?" "Hey, flower boy, why couldn't you just accept Echo's love?!" "Where's dinner, I thought you were supposed to be a man and provide for us, Narc-narc." "You call that a catch? A boy sitting by a fountain staring at himself could catch a better rabbit than that. Oh but you would know all about that wouldn't you?"

Sometimes, when she was feeling particularly spiteful, she would fill the house with the flowers he was named after. The smell was so sickly and sweet that eventually even the slightest whiff of the smell would make him sick.

His father taught him to hunt when he was young as a way to keep him away from his mother. His father loved her very much, but nobody in Naktis would dispute that she treated her son horribly. Narcissus became a great hunter, and ended up surpassing his father's skill. He spent most of his time in the forest, away from his mother, and didn't say anything when she got up in his case when he didn't return for days at a time. His father didn't blame him.

One day he returned and the house was silent save for the sobbing of his father. Narcissus knew then what had happened. His mother had always been thin, unhealthy even. Her bony fingers had bruised him plenty of times, jabbing into his side in a "playful" poke. They had never struck him as emaciated before the day they were cold as ice and would never twitch, stroke, or curl again.

He attended her funeral for about five minutes, just long enough to greet his father and lay a single flower on her coffin. A beautiful flower that he had picked fresh from the forest floor. A flower he had something in common with. A shared name. A Narcissus.

[Holly]