[OOC: I will put up full opt-out on his journal soon, but fair warning this harmless and cute looking couple of thousands years old but never admits to his age boy has some dark and troubling stuff in his past as a former leader of a murderous cult, cursed and punished by the gods etc, etc... It's a lot. I can leave any of this out completely, I just need to know. Other than that, he is cute and he is charming (and he is literally forced by his curse to help people)]
Free Cities
PIMP MY RIDE Eari doesn't look like someone who has ever held a hammer in his life, or even knows what to do with it. Least of all, be able to actually carry out the task. He's small, thin and pale, with narrow wrists and long, delicate fingers. And yet here he is, quite expertly hammering a large board to a window frame. While he's doing pretty decent on his own, he's not beyond enlisting help when he notices the other side of the wood dip, threatening to pull out the nails he's already put in.
"Would you be so kind and held the board for me for a minute? I think it's slipping."
MASKING UP Upon learning about the government handouts of the mask for the populace, Eari's first reaction is a surprised "How thoughtful!". He is easy to get roped into a team distributing. He wouldn't have gone into the sandstorm on his own, but would join someone who is already going. He does look pretty disturbed by the storm.
"What a wretched weather. I hope the days here don't look like this on a regular basis."
New Wave, New Age Eari's design reveals a hand highly trained in calligraphy. It's a Wheel of Fortune that seems to only grow more detailed the closer you look. It resembles a water wheel, but the spokes are spears, and a couple of skulls sneaked in here and there. There are waves, spirals, snakes, and geometrical shapes that fool the eye into illusion of motion.
It is incredibly intricate for something this small, done with only one pen and no color.
Solvunn
Shrine Offerings Eari's familiar with the offerings to the gods. Very, very familiar. He chooses Soris Immaneus as target of his current act of piety. It's a petty choice, a deliberate fuck you to his own home world's Lord of Balance who cursed him with his current affliction. To get it right, he went into the woods, ignoring the wind and the torrential rain, for his offering. A pair of rabbits. He doesn't know yet what she likes, so it seemed like a nice hello gift.
Goatnado Eari hates animals. He hates them fiercely. They're loud, smelly and stupid. He hates being cold, and wet, and dirty. He also prefers to leave a comfortable life wherever he goes. That means he needs to find his way out of this quaint, little countryside and into some kind of normal city. The faster the better. That means ingratiating himself with the local peasants first.
Which leads him to standing in the rain, getting more and more wet, more and more irritated, trying to locate the source of panicked bleaks coming from above. The most recent twister has deposited a dumb goat somewhere on the roof of the house.
"For the blasted, endless darkness, where are you stupid animal?!"
As if the goat could not only hear him - a difficult thing in the pouring rain, with thunder rolling through the sky every minute - but also understand and listen to him. He really doesn't want to climb up there.
The Shrieking of the Weeds In stark contrast to the goats, Eari simply loves the shrieking weeds. He thinks they are hilarious. Especially, when a twister lifts a whole bunch of them and rolls forward both the wind and the weeds howling like a hoard of angry ghosts. He seriously considers getting some for himself if he'll ever have a garden here. The possibilities for entertainment with such silly, little plant are endless.
But he doesn't have a garden yet. Not even his own place. No standing of his own. So whatever ideas he has in mind that would amuse him, he shelves them for now. Dutifully returning the plants to their owners, and the soil. It's a pity, but he can wait. All the while doing his best to conceal genuine enjoyment from watching the mayhem the airborne weeds are causing. Though, sometimes a hint of it slips. And if he's a bit more sluggish at his capture attempts then what? You can't really blame him. He's trying to help, but it's not his fault he's not built for manual labor or chasing errant plant-life across the fields.
WILDCARD [OOC: Go wild. Feel free to PM this journal for plotting if you have any particular idea in mind.]
Eari | Original Character | The Wheel of Fortune
couple of thousands years old but never admits to his ageboy has some dark and troubling stuff in his past as a former leader of a murderous cult, cursed and punished by the gods etc, etc... It's a lot. I can leave any of this out completely, I just need to know. Other than that, he is cute and he is charming (and he is literally forced by his curse to help people)]Free Cities
PIMP MY RIDE
Eari doesn't look like someone who has ever held a hammer in his life, or even knows what to do with it. Least of all, be able to actually carry out the task. He's small, thin and pale, with narrow wrists and long, delicate fingers. And yet here he is, quite expertly hammering a large board to a window frame. While he's doing pretty decent on his own, he's not beyond enlisting help when he notices the other side of the wood dip, threatening to pull out the nails he's already put in.
"Would you be so kind and held the board for me for a minute? I think it's slipping."
MASKING UP
Upon learning about the government handouts of the mask for the populace, Eari's first reaction is a surprised "How thoughtful!".
He is easy to get roped into a team distributing. He wouldn't have gone into the sandstorm on his own, but would join someone who is already going. He does look pretty disturbed by the storm.
"What a wretched weather. I hope the days here don't look like this on a regular basis."
New Wave, New Age
Eari's design reveals a hand highly trained in calligraphy. It's a Wheel of Fortune that seems to only grow more detailed the closer you look. It resembles a water wheel, but the spokes are spears, and a couple of skulls sneaked in here and there. There are waves, spirals, snakes, and geometrical shapes that fool the eye into illusion of motion.
It is incredibly intricate for something this small, done with only one pen and no color.
Solvunn
Shrine Offerings
Eari's familiar with the offerings to the gods. Very, very familiar. He chooses Soris Immaneus as target of his current act of piety. It's a petty choice, a deliberate fuck you to his own home world's Lord of Balance who cursed him with his current affliction. To get it right, he went into the woods, ignoring the wind and the torrential rain, for his offering. A pair of rabbits. He doesn't know yet what she likes, so it seemed like a nice hello gift.
Goatnado
Eari hates animals. He hates them fiercely. They're loud, smelly and stupid. He hates being cold, and wet, and dirty. He also prefers to leave a comfortable life wherever he goes. That means he needs to find his way out of this quaint, little countryside and into some kind of normal city. The faster the better. That means ingratiating himself with the local peasants first.
Which leads him to standing in the rain, getting more and more wet, more and more irritated, trying to locate the source of panicked bleaks coming from above. The most recent twister has deposited a dumb goat somewhere on the roof of the house.
"For the blasted, endless darkness, where are you stupid animal?!"
As if the goat could not only hear him - a difficult thing in the pouring rain, with thunder rolling through the sky every minute - but also understand and listen to him. He really doesn't want to climb up there.
The Shrieking of the Weeds
In stark contrast to the goats, Eari simply loves the shrieking weeds. He thinks they are hilarious. Especially, when a twister lifts a whole bunch of them and rolls forward both the wind and the weeds howling like a hoard of angry ghosts. He seriously considers getting some for himself if he'll ever have a garden here. The possibilities for entertainment with such silly, little plant are endless.
But he doesn't have a garden yet. Not even his own place. No standing of his own. So whatever ideas he has in mind that would amuse him, he shelves them for now. Dutifully returning the plants to their owners, and the soil. It's a pity, but he can wait. All the while doing his best to conceal genuine enjoyment from watching the mayhem the airborne weeds are causing. Though, sometimes a hint of it slips. And if he's a bit more sluggish at his capture attempts then what? You can't really blame him. He's trying to help, but it's not his fault he's not built for manual labor or chasing errant plant-life across the fields.
WILDCARD
[OOC: Go wild. Feel free to PM this journal for plotting if you have any particular idea in mind.]