Joined: 07 Mar 2011
Location: Seattle, WA, USA
Mon Mar 07, 2011 10:52 pm
|Post subject: Jarrid of Lynx Clan
|Character Application Outline
Name: Jarrid of Clan Lynx
Age Appearance: 30
Appearance: He’s 213cm (~7’) tall, weighs 125kg (~275#), and extremely muscular with brown hair in a spiky irregular cut, dark emerald eyes, busy eyebrows, and a large goatee. His skin is golden with dark brown spotting on his back, bum, all four limbs, hands, and feet (his head and back of the neck lack the spotting); but it’s crème on his throat, chest & abdomen, innermost surfaces of his limbs, palms of his hands, and soles of his feet. An obvious scar runs from left corner of his left eye, over the cheek, catches the left edge of his lip, and denudes a diagonal line through his goatee. He usually dresses in loose black knee-length britches, knee-high black boots, and a skin-tight black tank-top.
Personality: Jarrid isn’t quite the stereotypical Executioner. Though fighting provides him as much pleasure as does sex, he doesn’t display the expected taciturn nature but instead can be sadistically or dryly humorous and sometimes even roguishly charming.
History: Being the inventive runt of his mother’s family, he learned early that he had to be cunning as well as extra-stronger & -tough to survive. While stepbrothers and cousins met their demises through impossible challenges, he practiced avoiding the impossible without losing honor. This didn’t always work, as witnessed by the scar on the left side of his face given him by a kind older step-brother.
Occupation/Job: contract executioner
- always learning new techniques for fighting and killing
- has a sadistic streak
- prefers to look others in the eye when he kills them
- inter-species social interaction (sentients only)
- inter-species sex (sentients only)
Likes: animals, saffron crème brûlée, extra-rare steak, strong liquor
Dislikes: frauds, liars, religious types
Strength: Strength, speed, and a hide that is impervious to most spells and weapons.
Weakness/Flaw: All things holy can burn him, and holy weapons have a better chance of injuring or killing him. He can't swim due to the density of his flesh (lack of fat = lack of buoyancy), but can dog-paddle with limited success in shallow waters. His fraternization with inferiors (i.e. other races) can draw the ire of other Executioners.
Skills/Abilities: He's a practiced swordsman and brawler with a personal style that resembles Krav Maga. He has also master subtler methods of killing (e.g. burking). He has no magic but is particularly resistant to demon-created spells and blades.
Anything else to add:
Motto: Honor super alios omnes [Honor above all else]
Jarrid offered a very toothy grin to the human male making way slowly toward his table.
"Thanks for the …"
Jarrid motioned to the other side of the table. "Sit down."
The man sat down. "Thanks for the beer."
Jarrid smiled. "I saw you trying to act like you weren't watching me. I knew you might not approach, so I sent you an invitation, taking the choice from you and making it mine. Of course, you could have refused, and insulted me; or accepted, drank it, not come over, and insulted me. You didn't, and I admire that you came over even though I scare you."
"I'm not scared." but he wasn't looking Jarrid in the eyes.
"Ah, let's not start off on the right foot and then go wrong. I can smell that you are afraid … and more, yes?"
"Good. So we will be truthful with each other, yes?"
"Yes … sir?"
He smiled at the man. "The answer is 'yes' if you're asking if I'm male, and 'Jarrid' if you're asking what to call me. And your name is ... ?"
"A fine name. So, Dustin, look up at me." When the man's eyes met his, he continued. "Good. You should live up to your name. It means 'brave' in a long forgotten tongue. Do you know what I am?"
"A … ::hmm:: … were … cat?"
Jarrid laughed "Cute, but no. I'm a type of demon called an Executioner, specifically one born of the Lynx Clan, hence my 'cat-ness' in your eyes."
He grinned as Dustin's eyes grew wide after the word "demon", then indicated the man's drink with his chin. “Going to let that go stale? Drink up.” Jarrid quaffed his own drink while the man slowly drank the beer.
He snapped the claws of his hands in and out repeatedly as he said "I'm considered a deviant amongst my people because, rather than always either challenging or ignoring men of other races, I sometimes like talking with them about things other than my contract." He stopped playing with his claws and leaned forward, still towering over the man. "So, what keeps you sitting here? I can smell the battle within your body: flight, fight, or ..." He bent to bring his mouth down to Dustin's ear, and dropped his voice to a growling whisper "mate. In my language, the words for 'fight' and 'mate' have the same root: 'lezzat', which means pleasure.”