True, true.
Okay, Chez~
And before I submit this form. I totally didn't copy Lune. He's just really similar to him. XD
Username: Dragon
Name: Virde
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Birthday/Zodiac: August 11th - Leo
Allegiance: Other
Class: Thief -> Assassin
Weapons: Iron Sword
Appearance:
Virde is a man with a rather small frame—he stands at 5’10 and weighs 144 pounds. He wears a
dragon mask to hide his identity.
Personality: While it seems that Virde bears nothing but smiles and a good will, it couldn’t be further from the truth. Virde is very untrustworthy to those who know him well. If he catches a wiff of a better deal than the one he’s in, he will eagerly break that contract without so much as a second thought. Fueled by a deep greed and an everlasting ambition, he does not treasure the bonds that he has forged with people. He will gladly break said bonds if someone waves a pouch of money in his face and tells him to. Despite his shady and untrustworthy personality, Virde has a soft spot for women and children. He loves watching little kids play with each other in the streets and won’t hesitate to toss a few coins at them if he’s in the mood. He does the same for women, especially if they have children of their own. However, he does not know how to directly interact with women, and often clams up and stutters when he talks with them.
Virde can be a rather loud individual, practically
screaming everything he says unless he knows when to lower his voice. To those who don’t know him personally, he is a cocky, self-assured young man that takes on the appearance of a sellsword (or something of the sort).
History: Virde was born in Plegia to a father who was never there for him and to a mother who left soon after she had birthed him. His father, a man with a successful business, ignored him ninety percent of the time and only came to him to take whatever money he had saved up for himself. His childhood was lonesome; he had no friends to play with, and his father hardly spared him a glance unless he had a few coins. What Virde looked forward to, however, was his weekend visits to his grandfather’s home. His grandfather was a sickly man who owned a farm and loved to read, write, and draw. Since his father hadn’t taught him anything, Virde’s grandfather taught him how to read and write at the age of five. It was then that he discovered his passion reading and writing and drawing—he spent most of his time doing such when he was left alone back at home.
When Virde was ten, he was told by his father that, when he came of age, he would take over the family business. Running a business was not part of his plans, and he ignored everything that his father used to say about his company. It all went in one ear and through the other. All he did was draw different sorts of animals (mostly cats and horses, which were common on his grandfather’s farm), read, and write childish poems. His father believed that he would grow out of it, but when his son was sixteen and he was still focused on different forms of art, he shunned him and claimed that he was no longer of his blood.
At the least, Virde was overjoyed that he was kicked out of home. That meant that he was able to live with his grandfather, which he did. Virde helped him work his farm and tend to animals, and his grandfather taught him how to draw and write better. It was the good life, or so it seemed.
His grandfather died of a heart attack a year after he moved in. Virde, now eighteen and alone, found himself on the streets. He had to begin living the life of an adult, whether he liked it or not. And that was exactly what he did. The young man got a job as a poet and enjoyed every moment of it. He
was doing what he loved to do—if he could spend the whole day writing if life allowed him to. Even though the job provided him with little money, Virde was able to scrape by and still be happy with what little pay he received.
Time went on, and people became tired of Virde’s work. No one bought his pieces of art or listened to his poems. His pay dwindled, but thankfully it was still enough to feed him. Shelter was a whole other deal. He was no longer able to keep a room and thus lived on street corners and alleyways. Virde sank into a deep depression and began to engage in drinking and gambling. After he had tasted a bit of that sort of life, Virde decided that he liked that better than simply being a poor scribe that had nothing to do with his free time.
Virde spent a year and a half of his life wasting his money on drink and games. He had become very hostile and filled with anger and often got into brawls. It was at that time that he made a few shady friends that frequented the tavern that he went to. His friends soon took him into their little guild of thieves, claiming that, if he stuck with them, that he would earn more money that he already had. The thought of more money began to fuel his ambition, and all of his world became centered on wealth obtained from heists and other illegal ways.
Virde has been with the group of thieves since then, and has grown to be a rather experienced and “respected” member of their guild. Though, he often states that he works alone and is a “one man army”, which couldn’t be further from the truth.
Ability: Is an exceptionally good sketcher and poet.
Quirk: Has an amazing singing voice.
Strengths: Agile, cunning, and somewhat persuasive.
Weaknesses: Cocky, stubborn, thinks that he’s always right, and is rather weak (his tactics revolve around ambushes and the like).
Likes: Cats, horses, mild temperatures, having people look up to him, a successful mission, alcohol, food, rewards, leisure time, people who don’t talk much, women, night.
Dislikes: Insects (especially centipedes), snakes, dogs, daylight, people who don’t know when to shut their mouths, men, rude and disrespectful people.
Other:
”Surprise~!”