EnsoNoctis Member
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I'm here.
Waiting for more info - but it sounds interesting! Count me partially in
He is, isn't he? His eyes make him seem so innocent but he has this mischievous smile on his face. His name is Ross Crawford and he looks very English in most of his other photos, but I thought that picture of him made him look a little more exotic.
@crya - what day are you planning on starting? I only ask because Sunday would be the most significant day due to the fact that everyone will probably be congregating at the church and I don't want to make a post about my two characters on a random weekday if you plan on having sunday be the day.
@crya - what day are you planning on starting? I only ask because Sunday would be the most significant day due to the fact that everyone will probably be congregating at the church and I don't want to make a post about my two characters on a random weekday if you plan on having sunday be the day.
Henrik is considered by many to be quite handsome. He has a defined jawline and serious, deep set blue eyes, and he always has a stern look on his face. He has wavy blonde hair with a small stubble around his jawline. He's quite tall, and despite spending a great deal of time on his desk in his study, he is quite lean as he balances it out by spending an hour every day fencing.
Henrik has a series of outfits he wears, but he is normally seen wearing a black three-cocked hat, a black button coat with a dark blue waistcoat and a white shirt with ruffled sleeves underneath, a cravat, black breeches, white stockings and a pair of black leather shoes with two buckles. He also has a series of elaborate, colorful outfits that he often wears during his courtships.
Personality
Henrik is the heir apparent to the Magnusson Trading Company in the Colonies and as such, he is quite pretentious and has an air of aristocracy about him. Henrik is very serious about his position and is often perceived as being coldhearted because of his haughty attitude, despite advocating better rights for the people in the colonies. He rarely concerns himself with the daily activities of the townsfolk, but he treats all of his workers as comrades when he visits the lumber yards. Henrik does not believe in witchcraft, nor does he take Christianity seriously and only goes to church out of social necessity.
Henrik is a firm believer in Machiavelli's philosophy of the ends justifying the means. He has, at times, shown a sternness and authority that has instilled fear and respect from others, making some believe that he could one day rule the colonies. However, his desire to achieve his goals at all costs has slowly chipped away at his morality. If it were not for Ezra, Henrik would most likely be a truly cold hearted person, completely apathetic to the plight of others.
Henrik was the first Magnusson born in Warren, Massachusetts. The Magnusson family's influence has spread from all across the globe and had finally reached the New World a decade prior to his birth. Markus, Henrik's father, immediately established a lumber trading company in Warren and married into another wealthy merchant family of ship builders. Henrik was raised alongside with Ezra under the direct tutelage of his father, Markus. From a young age, he was aware of Ezra's true heritage, and because the two had spent so much time together, they treated each other like siblings. Whenever Ezra was insulted, Henrik would be there to defend him.
Henrik, however, was under more scrutiny as he was expected to be the next leader of the Magnusson family in the colonies. He eagerly took on his responsibilities, and while Ezra spent his youth talking with the natives and exploring the wilderness, Henrik spent his days learning the family trade, getting special tutoring for economics and finance, and acquainting himself with all the other wealthy families. While nowhere near as physically athletic as Ezra, many considered Henrik a genius at a young age. Henrik's qualities have caused other families to court him rather than the other way around, and Henrik had started meeting ladies at the age of seventeen. To this day, he has yet to choose a wife, perhaps because of his devotion to inheriting the family business, or perhaps due to his lack of interest to anyone who has come by.
Ezra has an unusual charm about him due to his mixed heritage. His hair is jet black, and slightly slanted almond shaped eyes, with a very dark brown eyes. His sharp jawline outlines his thin, triangular face. He is also quite thin, but well built, partly out of genetics, and partly because of his daily hikes and overall diet. He is normally seen wearing a ivory linen shirt with a long leather waistcoat, dark brown breeches, white stockings and matching knee high boots. He rarely keeps up his appearance, but he does maintain above average hygiene for a, presumably, indentured servant. Ezra does not have much, to any facial hair due to his genetics, and he leaves his hair unkempt due to its natural straightness.
He rarely wears his formal attire, which consists of several elaborate french style coats, a series of cravats, and more elaborate ruffled shirts - and only does so if Henrik deems it necessary, or if his father Mikael comes to visit.
Ezra is carefree and rather outgoing due to his lack of responsibilities, but far too intelligent to be idle. He is aware, but does not care much for the politics involved in the colonies or the Magnusson family business. Ezra would rather focus on the events directly affecting him, and he spends most of his mornings out in the wilderness exploring. He also does this as a ruse, as most of townsfolk believe him to be Henrik's servant. Despite his rich upbringing, Ezra also does not care much for material desires and he is actually quite relieved that he is not bound to any one career in the future. He is also quite religious, but has an unorthodox way of showing his faith.
He has learned the native tongue, and is often found trying to quell unnecessary conflicts between some colonists and the natives. It's so often, in fact, that some suspect that he instigates the conflicts and resolves them for the attention. The truth of the matter is, Ezra has an extrasensory perception that allows him to sense the area around him that he can't quite explain, but he often uses to his advantage. He is also quite athletic despite his slim figure.
Ezra is also quite adept at handling children. He has recently taken up a job as a tutor, and spends Sundays teaching the common folk children to read and write. Conversely, he is not well received by some of the older, wealthier families, who view him as nothing more than an indentured servant for the Magnusson family overstepping his bounds. Regardless, he is unfazed by their contemptuous remarks, and is often defended by his cousin Henrik. In turn, Ezra has made it a point to help Henrik lighten up his serious demeanor.
Ezra is the illegitimate son of Mikael Magnusson, a wealthy merchant, and Yuuki Mitsuji, a Japanese interpreter living in Dejima - the only city in Japan open to foreigners. After Mikael had impregnated Yuuki,he began to have dreams of a man warning him that should he abandon the child, he would lose all of his wealth. Fearing that this premonition might some day come true, Mikael devised a plan to go straight from the Orient to the New World without returning to England where he currently resided. He sent a letter to his wife Katherine, the eighth child of British nobility, explaining that his brother Markus required immediate help with some matters in their lumber trade in the colonies. Mikael spent the first three years with Ezra and brought along several slaves and indentured servants to care for him before returning to England alone.
Ezra was raised primarily by Markus, but Mikael periodically came to visit Ezra for short stretches of time. It wasn't simply out of obligation that Mikael came to visit, but truly out of paternal love. Mikael ensured that Ezra was raised with a proper education, bringing in new books and trinkets from all around the world during his visits. Markus, too, loved his nephew. Despite his lack of legitimacy in inheriting the family name, Markus gave him the same education as his own son Henrik, and treated the both of them equally. Ezra knew this, and yet he felt no resentment towards anyone. He was quite content with not having to inherit such an obligation, and spent much of his younger days learning about the world through the books his father gave him, and exploring the forests around his home. The other families assumed that Ezra was merely an indentured servant acting as Henrik's playmate, but Ezra only took on that role to fulfill his social obligation. Despite how others saw the two, Ezra and Henrik were quite close to one another.
Not much is known about the Mitsuji family except that they explicitly asked that Ezra keep the Mitsuji name. Mikael had gone back to Japan twice to inquired about them, but it seemed as if the Mitsuji family never existed. The only clue Mikael found on his last visit was a warning from a rickshaw puller who told him not to dig any deeper into the name lest he be cursed. Before leaving for the last time, the very same Rickshaw puller came to Mikael and threw him a long, thin package and instructed him to give it to his son. Inside the package was a simple, yet elegant katana in a black sheathe and hilt, with an incomplete circle engraved near the hilt on the blade.
Unbeknownst to Mikael or Ezra, the Mitsuji family is actually a shinobi clan who also practiced Catholicism. They had to hide their existence after the Sakoku edict, but their bloodline extends to a millennia, and each generation has inherited the past generation's wisdom and power. Ezra is no exception, as he has inherited extrasensory perception allowing to sense the environment around him through a 'sixth' sense - although, the he has not reached the full extent of this ability.
I'm also waiting - otherwise i can just double post and add Ella's introduction.
One more interested player. Looking forward to it. Hope you can fix everything and have it ready.
Yea, where did everyone else go?
Okay, so Virgil's post didn't quite cover everything I wanted it to, but the rest isn't too terribly important anyway, and I can incorporate it all into Ella's introduction. And yes, I know two thousand krell is a lot of money, but this is for their own daughter. Two thousand krell wouldn't even put a dent in the Daedalus family wealth. Not to mention, he did, to their eyes, spend a whole year searching for her while staying in Oden even though they housed him, fed him, and paid all his expenses.
~+Virgil Noctis+~
It was just past dawn and the west wing of the house of Daedalus was already astir as the servants prepared for the day's activities. Virgil had woken up and remained on his bed for the better part of an hour as he stared up at the finely sculpted stucco work. Infant cherubs lined the crown moulding of the ceiling as if holding it up. The center piece was a popped out dome with a golden chandelier in the shape of a blooming flower branching off to resemble rays of light radiating from the sun, and more tiny little cherubs could be seen engraved on the dome. Virgil sighed as he recalled his days back in heaven when he had once been constantly surrounded by these cherubs - although their true appearance was nothing like the ones depicted in the painting. 'I quite like the idea of cherubs being tiny little children. They are much more pleasant to look at than a those three headed chimeras. This will be the last morning I will wake up staring at these infants,' Virgil mused to himself.
A butler meekly knocked on the door, as if fearful of waking Virgil up. The butler's previous experiences with rousing him had been less than pleasant. Virgil was known to be quite irritable when roused too early and glare at those who dared to disturb his sleep with what many described as glowing blue eyes resembling that of a demon.
"Come in," Virgil begrudgingly answered. A butler in his late thirties dressed in single pleated black trousers, a white shirt and a vest with with red tie opened the door. He had a stoic look on his face, but Virgil could clearly tell that the man had been up for several hours from the wrinkles on his finely ironed uniform. A maid followed closely behind, wearing a simple black dress with a small white collar and short sleeves with white cuffs. The maid looked more cheerful - almost excited, as she entered the room. She held an ivory suit made of linen and maintained the same distance behind the butler as they walked into the room until the butler until the butler stopped. The maid continued to walk while trying to hide a smile and the butler cleared his throat to remind her to keep her composure. She blushed and shuffled backwards to the same distance. The butler then bowed and exclaimed the morning's activities.
"Breakfast shall be served at the terrace today in half an hour. The madam has prepared an outfit for you," the butler turned to his side and spread his arms toward the suit as if presenting it to him before continuing, "Mary will be assisting you with preparations today. Should you require more assistance - ".
"Yes, yes, Alfred, I will call for you," Virgil interrupted. He had grown tired of hearing the same rehearsed lines from the butler from his year long stay and had frankly grown tired of the butler, who he felt was too haughty for a man in his position.
"It's Albert, sir," the butler responded politely. Virgil knew it quite well, but insisted on calling the man Alfred to get on his nerves. "Now if you will excuse me, I have other duties to attend." Albert turned around and his stoic visage was immediately replaced with a flustered and agitated look. Albert walked out the door and closed it behind him.
Soon after, Mary could no longer hold back her smile and she pranced toward the bed, nearly jumping on it before she caught herself as she realized that Virgil was completely nude. She stopped just short of the bed and shyly turned away in embarrassment. "Excuse my forwardness, sir" her voice quivered ever so slightly as she tried to regain her composure, “will you require any more assistance this morning?”
Virgil rose from his bed toward Mary and grasped her shoulder as if urging her to turn around. Mary complied silently and met his gaze. She could feel blood rushing to her cheeks and her heart racing as Virgil moved closer to her. His subtle, yet graceful movements enticed her to her very core, and as Virgil’s mouth inched closer to her face, she closed her eyes as if expecting to be kissed. However, he moved his head toward her shoulder until his lips lined with her earlobes, and he whispered into her ear. “My dear Marie, you have done enough by simply gracing me with your presence. This suit is indeed to my taste, but I am afraid I shall be departing today and I cannot dirty such fine wardrobe in my journey.”
Mary’s heart fluttered as his breath brushed her earlobes and found great delight in his accent and the way he pronounced her name. Even his scent was enticing, and her whole body shook from his abrupt advance. Mary stood in a daze by the bed and nearly lost her balance when Virgil removed his hand from her shoulder. When she opened her eyes, Virgil was already on his way to the bath.
Virgil took his time walking down the illustrious west hall of the Daedalus home. The guest room was near the very end of the west wing, beside the family’s adopted daughter - Elizabeth’s Daedalus’- old room. Every little detail, from the floor to the ceiling, was meticulously crafted - from the marble pilasters adjoining together to hold up the barrel vault ceilings with small chandeliers, to the large open windows facing the front of the Daedalus house. Much of the artwork in the west wing consisted of the Elizabeth, depicting her from simple portraits to interactions caught in still frame. The were a total of twelve paintings and sculptures made each year she was born. One could start at the door of her bedroom and find the oldest portrait and go toward the end of the hallway toward the entrance to the main hall and observe her twelve years of growth in the Daedalus house. The hallway was built with exactly fourteen barrel vaults separated by marble pilasters, and each section held a painting and a sculpture, with the exception of the last two portraits. Even the sections that had doorways had smaller sculptures that sat on a display, and directly above it there was another picture of her. Virgil surmised that the last two sections were to commemorate her seventeenth and eighteenth birthday, but due to her departure, they had been left empty. I’ve walked through this same hall for the last year and still can’t shake the feeling that I’m living in a shrine,She must not have liked the attention very much, otherwise she would have stayed, he surmised as he slowly took in every detail of every painting.
Virgil was the last to make it to the terrace. Marcus, the current head of the Daedalus family was reading a newspaper as Amelia was speaking to the head butler about what tea set to use after breakfast, until she saw Virgil emerge from the mansion.
“Oh, dear Virgil,” her expression showed clear dissatisfaction, “was the linen suit not to your taste?”
“Dear, he’s leaving for the South. What good will a linen suit do for him outside of this city’s walls,” Marcus rebuked half heartedly as his eyes scanned the newspaper. Before Amelia even had a chance to respond, Virgil spoke up.
“Madam Amelia, I quite liked the suit, but I fear I would dirty it should I bring it with me on my travel,” Virgil took a long gaze at her before bowing apologetically. Amelia’s disgruntled expression melted into one of sympathy. “You have already done so much for me that I can not thank you enough.” Virgil straightened up, walked to the table, and sat down. “And do excuse my late arrival last night. I wanted to admire the view of Oden before leaving for Treya. I called a colleague of mine who had mentioned that he had seen a woman resembling your daughter accompanying a merchant caravan from Eldrock to Treya.”
Virgil was in fact not in Oden at all yesterday. The ‘colleagues’ and long walks he spoke of were just excuses to hide the fact that Virgil had actually been flying from city to city searching for clues about her for the past year. It was quite difficult to track her, as she was constantly on the move, and she left very few clues about her next destination. He did, however, hear from a third party about a young beautiful woman had accepted a job as a guard for a merchant caravan.
“Oh, that is great news!” Amelia chirped. “You know, Virgil, the more I look at you, the more I am reminded of my daughter. You have the same eyes as her!”
“Indeed you do,” Marcus interjected as he put down his newspaper. “If we had not raised our Dear Elizabeth since her wake, I would have taken you to be her relative, but that would mean you would be at least a millennia old” he chuckled at the thought. Virgil joined Marcus’ laughter, not because of how foolish the idea was, but rather, he laughed because he was in fact much older. Before Elizabeth’s wake, the owners of her original cryogenic form was recorded since she had fallen from the wormhole. At one point, one of the previous owners had set out to try and find clues as to what race the statue might have belonged to, but no one had taken a step forward, so it was common inference that Ella was a unique phenomenon in the wormhole disaster.
“That aside, Virgil, are you not worried about the recent raids in the south? Just last night, General Zvalt of the defense corps had mentioned that even M’alo, the great city of Treya, has called for aid in defending their town. I hope Elizabeth has not got herself into any trouble, ” Marcus spoke with fatherly concern.
Even Belloc is asking for help? I’ve noticed the aftermath of these raids all across the west, but for a mayor who has prided himself for keeping a city safe for sixty years to be requesting aid, something serious must be brewing. I'd rather not get caught up in that, but if Elizabeth is headed in that direction, I just might have to, Virgil contemplated for a moment. He kept a calm demeanor as they continued eating breakfast, all the while planning where to go next. Should I start at the northern ruins in Treya, or at M’alo? It’s only been a day, and that caravan may not reach it until tomorrow. Perhaps I should scope out the route first. Still, though, if a city that has a defense corps that almost rivals Oden's to be asking for aid, she could be in danger.
"I am indeed, worried, but I am more so worried about your daughter's safety if she is traversing the Treya region," Virgil explained. "Do forgive me, but I must head out after breakfast."
"Oh, Virgil, sweetheart before you go I have a present for you! " Amelia almost jumped out of her seat in excitement. She called out for the head butler, who came out from the mansion carrying a gift box. "I want you take this. It's a camera. Go ahead. Open it."
"Dear, don't tell him what's inside before he can open it," Marcus grumbled.
"Mark, sweetheart, you know how excited I get about presents. Do forgive me Virgil. If you can, please take pictures of her and send them immediately back. We haven't seen our daughter in nearly a decade, and it would bring me great joy to see what she looks like now. And please, do take this money for your travels. There are few caravans that will take you as far south as M'alo, but there is a caravan that travels far as sourthern Eldrock."
You ask for her picture before the safety of your own daughter. No wonder she left, Virgil almost blurted out, but he maintained his composure as he accepted the gift and the purse of coins. Inside there were two thousand krell worth of a mixture of coins including two adranium coins. It was quite a lot for what he needed, but he graciously accepted. "Of course Madam Amelia. I shall write to you as soon as I see her. Words can not express my gratitude."
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