◈ P e r s o n a l i t y
Enthusiastic ◈ Creative ◈ Naive ◈ Puckish ◈ Provincial
Maré is the type to try anything once, and with boundless and enviable energy to boot. Then, he aggressively 'sorts', going all in on those that resonate with him and rather promptly losing interest in those that don't. He's regularly known to dispense homespun wisdom of dubious efficacy, and it's unclear to most how much he believes these proverbs himself. In any event, they find their way out there, maybe an attempt to keep something of his home alive. He may act like it, but this fifteen-year-old isn't completely oblivious to the fact that he's a bit of a novelty and sometime object of derision. If he's feeling particularly saucy, he might play his accent and dialect up with snooty types to the point of being nigh-impossible to understand.
He tends to encounter a good number of these as an artist: rich types and snobs who live to 'critique' art and impose an orthodoxy. He holds himself back around them, sometimes, and secretly hides penises beneath a few layers in his commissions for them. How wonderfully 'authentic' he is: a real honest-to-goodness country boy from Alba Grannea, some sort of idiot savant. In truth, it doesn't get to him that much. He usually just shrugs it off and plays the part if it'll make him some cash. They're not bad people either - just annoying, and that's not a crime. Besides, there's always some new idea striking him: a particularly vibrant contrast or evocative image that his mind instantly starts expanding upon and reimagining.
◈ H i s t o r y
Maré was raised in a very communal setting. He, his five siblings, and a baker's dozen cousins occupied a farming commune with their parents on the vast and remote sky island of Alba Grannea, with its rolling green hills, delicate forests, and lazy, winding rivers. It is, in many respects, a unique place within the world of Lëke. If you stand just right in the centre of it, you can't see the edge. An old land, largely untouched by time and external influence, Alba Grannea is known for its uniquely quaint and rustic architecture, fruit, vegetable, and dye farming, and its people's distinct dialect, rural accent, and agrarian way of life. It was these influences that acted as incubation and inspiration for his creative young mind.
Growing up, Marellian and his cousins would spend hours together wandering between cabins and hamlets, lounging in trees, shooting cans and bottles with slingshots or - later - old rifles, and catching frogs and crawfish in the streams. There would almost always be spare dyes and extracts that were not quite fit or fine enough to send to market lying around at home and he was always the eagerest within his great extended family brood to do experiment with them. Now, a couple of years down the line, Maré has fond memories of afternoons and evenings spent lounging in the crux of a tree as cicadas hummed and bullfrogs croaked, one leg dangling over the edge, notebook and coloured charcoals or paints in hand as he brought to life his own interpretations of what he saw.
Harvest seasons were always the busiest time, and there were three throughout the year. Then, the slow lazy skyships that would hum and rattle over the horizon once per week came more often for a little while. They'd bring goods and news and ferry people to and fro from more important places. Maré and his cousins would wait eagerly for them by the docks, taking bets on various things. One day, shortly after he had first started to develop his gift, experimenting with paints and coloured circles, something came for him: a letter from the academy requesting his attendance for the coming year. His cousins Doré, Salé, and Frané received similar summons.
How the great big bumpkin family came together to celebrate the four young people. How they fiddled and drank and danced the night away in the barn. Marellian was gifted the great paintbrush staff (it's not a broom!) that he still wields. He had his first good drink of whiskey and finished proceedings rosy-cheeked, lying on a bale of hay, staring up at the wooden joists and rafters of the ceiling.
The next day, he was bound for Harold's, something more than your usual hayseed, but full of wonder and anxiety alike. It's been an experience since then. Maré has doubled down on his artistic abilities and agrarian knowhow. The ornate, imposing, and monumental architecture that was once overwhelming has made an impression on his art style. His open, enthusiastic, and friendly-to-a-fault demeanour has earned him a good few friendships and a handful of snarky taunts at his expense. Sometimes, he feels like a fish out of water among the smart, worldly, and sophisticated young people he's surrounded by. Sometimes, he tries to hide the twang in his words and call it an animal instead of a 'varmint' or a 'window' instead of a 'winder'. He's changed his dressing style as well and most would consider him quite put-together. He spent almost all of his spare money on a tree monkey he named Coopers, and the little guy has proven a source of endless amusement and loyal, mischievous companionship. In short, he's adapted. Still, there are nights - occasionally - when he misses those great star-filled skies, the lightning bugs dancing about with their flickering lights, and the gentle chorus of crickets and bullfrogs in the stream behind his house. A bright future awaits him just over the horizon, but he's not always sure exactly where to look.
◈ R e p u t a t i o n
Most people either like Maré or they don't. That goes not only for fellow students, but for teachers as well. He's always drawing, painting, doodling, or sketching but, infuriatingly, seems to have a good response every time one thinks they've caught him drifting and asks a sudden question. Some carry their prejudices into their lessons and like to hang these about his neck. Others recognize him for a clever if somewhat odd student who puts in an effort and likes to problem solve and approach things creatively. When he's bored, however, it tends to be difficult to reel him back in.
Many of his fellow students of like age are quick to cheat off of him in tests in their weaker subjects or let him do the same in his. Marellian's doodles are commonly passed around on notes and comprise a sort of game in the more boring classes. He also knows almost all there is to know about a variety of worldly subjects that most others don't specialize in: paints, oils, fruits and vegetables, guns, and various sorts of varmints creatures. He loves a good jape or prank and has an eager accomplice in Coopers. Some love him for it. Some avoid him, but this isn't common. He's hardly the school's worst miscreant.
◈ G o a l s
At the ripe old age of fifteen, Marellian has scarce little idea of what he wants his life in the future to look like, aside from 'good'. He knows that he wants to keep making art, forever. The day that he stops, he's proclaimed boldly to more than one friend, they can just seal him up and toss him into the ocean. He's also currently enthusiastic about Waagas and the eponymous sport involving them. He'd love to win the championship!
◈ R e l a t i o n s
Ma, Pop, Gran, Grandpop, Joé, Becké, Suzé, Jonné, and Loué: these are his immediate family members. The four boys shared a bedroom for most of his childhood, and the two girls were frequent visitors.
Doré, Salé, Franné: these are Maré's cousins who also attend the academy. None are in Harold with him, but the four make a point of getting together at least once a week. Their loyalty to each other is absolute.
Coopers: his main man and partner in crime.
Anastasia Arslan: the pretty girl a couple of years older who he always seems to run into in the hallways and mumbles a few friendly words to. Sometimes, she smiles.
◈ "I dunno if a picture's worth a thousand words, but at least a few hundred, I reckon." ◈
◈ M y s t i c C l a s s i f i c a t i o n
Astra
◈ G i f t
Spectrum
◈ M y s t i c C o d e
Spectrum is a paint-based ability and works in the six five primary and secondary colours (but not green; it's dangerous). In order to be effective, the symbols that Maré creates cannot be more than about two yards in diameter. They have various effects depending on their shape and colour:
Blue circles protect anything within them from outside physical interference for up two minutes. They only let up to two solid or liquid objects in before rejecting all others.
Purple circles trap any solid or liquid within them from escaping for up to two minutes. However, they and their contents can be interfered with from the outside.
Red crosses are nigh-indelible and act as beacons that track the position of whatever they're painted on, allowing Maré to locate it if he's within about two hundred yards.
Orange crosses are nigh-indelible (only Maré can erase them, with considerable effort) but only three may be active at a time. Standing on one teleports you to another.
Yellow triangles are very easy to remove but will exert their effect until cleaned or washed away. They create a zero-friction zone within their bounds.
Green triangles are very easy to remove but will exert their effect until cleaned or washed away. They erase from existence anything that touches them for more than two seconds.
While there may be other uses for his gift, including potentially more complex ones, Marellian has yet to unlock these, if they do, indeed, exist. For now, what he has is enough. In fact, it is rather too much. As a rule, he never uses green squares. Nothing good comes of something destructive like that.
◈ L i m i t a t i o n s a n d W e a k n e s s e s
In theory, Maré's gift allows him exceptional versatility and power. However, it comes with a number of drawbacks:
Firstly, in order for it to work at all, he needs to actually physically paint whichever symbol he wants to use, where he wants to use it. This takes time, focus, occupies him physically, and may put him at risk in more dangerous situations.
Secondly, symbols need to be painted properly, and in the correct colour. A green circle is useless. A yellow not-quite-triangle has zero effect. Size matters as well. You can't really paint huge with a tiny brush or tiny with a huge brush.
Thirdly, Marellian needs to carry his own reagents. That entails a good deal of cost and encumberment, as well as instruments of his trade to maintain, moreso than most other magic users.
Finally, with the exception of the dreaded green triangles, which he refuses to employ, this paint-mage lacks any offensive punch if it comes down to a fight. He's good at utility, protection, and environmental manipulation but lacks that final, essential tool in his kit. When push comes down to shove, he's outgunned.
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