Name: Thorsten Ove
Country Affiliation: Wanderer
Race: Imuchakk Dominate/ Human Recessive
Tier: D-Tier
Class: Assassin
Age + Birthdate: 11 | Somewhere In The Winter
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Can't Identity Currently.
Personality:
Daring: Not easily backed down in any situation. His self-assured nature playing a major factory here; often challenging the low possibility in any given situation knowing no other take on it. Its makes him precatious at times, but he loves to challenge his own faith until the end.
Self-Assured: His confidence might one day be the down fall of him, but is he every so proud. Thorsten, fighting prowess he believes it to be below on other; such beliefs like that causes him to boast, and taught greatly during his jobs. Such thoughts of confidence fuels his drive until its probably shattered.
Versatile: Haven't basically grown up living from village to village, Thorsten has adapted into his environment; He changing his course of action each time something goes south, and always hopping to have a fall back plan.
Strange: Nothing has really been brought up about this, unless its clients whom hired him for work; But they claim that Thorsten has a strange aura around him.
Childish: He has a tendency to bring about mischief. Thorsten enjoys playing jokes and pranks on people even though he's silent which people often believe why he's shy. Often seen chuckling as his go too reaction to situations, if he isn't whining.
Likes:
Calligraphy: Since an young age, he has found himself being creative and enjoying the creative style of 'Calligraphy' art. Using his own style of brush strokes to support himself making huang by selling his work.
Chrysophilist: Thorsten, has a real eye for gold, jewelry, and trinkets. Personally the reason why he loved to save up his own money.
Dislikes:
Social Interaction: Interaction with others isn't something he enjoys, so if he does something with another he usually only responds once before becoming mute.
Oppai's: He doesn't dislike, dislike them, but the size of their breast offends him. He believes an women's breast shouldn't be the size of an colossal hammer with enough power to break bones.
Aspirations:
~Family Approval~
Thorsten, was exiled from the Imuchakk clans for his fathers mistakes. He is a bastard child, that his relatives disowned. He wants to prove his worth to his family by becoming a warrior of his own, to later return and prove his strength and beating the Imuchakk's trail for a warriors name.
~Obtaining Fabled Power~
Most children have heard of the fabled rumors of power. However these are through, from what people in tavern who are too drunk to speak straight admit. Hearing a story when he was wondering, someone comfirmed the belief that made Thorsten, want to find one in hopes of helping him get back his family who exiled him.
~Finding His Path~
Usually the Imuchakk have the path they follow to obtain their Warrior name. But since he's exile, he wants to find his own place he could belong, and fit into. Whether it's his own place, someone else's, or just another country.
Phobias/fears:
~ Failing To Achieve His Goal ~
Failing to achieve his goals will impact him greatly. Those goals make up him entirely since that's all he can currently bring himself to look forward too. His life has been good, barely by the chance of luck. Not being able to perform the correct actions to get the positive respond if everything turns out the way he wants it to. Having to come to the realization of his failure is just something that's hurts his pride as a warrior.
Face-Claim: Tsurumaru Kuninaga - Touken Ranbu
Hair Color: Pearl White with Navy Highlights.
Eye Color: Emerald
Height: 134.62 cm
Weight: 54.43 kg
Appearance:
Thorsten, has short pearl white hair, with navy highlights. His eyes are sharp like a feline, and golden just like a crescent moon, moonshine. He is slim, and short for his racial heritage as it may seem. His physique is more on the lanky side for his age, rather then the building of muscles. Being slim helps with how agile and short he is.
Body: The young boy, wears three layers Of kimonos. The first layer being the cloak with the black crane button, and a white puff ball clipped to the second layer, lined and connected throughout by chains of gold. The second layer is just an regular white colored tunic of a traveler. The third layer connects to the second layer turning gray and covering the lower body pants legs making it into a jumpsuit sort of. He wears cut gloves both pair identical with the pinky, index, and thumb finger sleeves removed.
Lower Body: The third layer of his kimono is like an jumpsuit for an assassin. Its gray in color covered on the outside by the white layering from the second layer. For his feet guardments there regular bamboo sandles wore with socks. Their is armor plating attached to Thorsten's Obai belt.
Rukh Alignment: White
Special Features: His highlighted hair. His clothing has resemblance to an Crane.
History:
My story is an Short and simple one to tell. I Thorsten Ove, Born half of the great Imuchakk Race, and half human to a caravan women. My mother hasn't any other good mentions in this story besides leaving me with my father. My father was an strong, brave, and half the time childish light drunk. He bore many children with my step-mother, about three half-sisters, and two half-brothers. However I'm the youngest of this six kid family and the most suspicious of them all. My father had bore me from another, making me the bastard child of the family and eventually disliked by my elder half-siblings, and step-mother. My father, Ov'Ove, stood at 263 cm and had a hardy laugh to go behind it. His voice boomed each time he spoke and that's about how much I remember him.
Its been long since they have banished? Or was it exiled. I can't really seem to remember, but before I knew it I was traveling with a caravan myself. At what age you might add? The age of 5, barely old enough to go on his own, but I was pretty tall five year old half-Imuchakk. Many people on the caravan I was abandoned on? My memories of this period were really blacked dotted around the whole time; Let me continue, they thought I couldn't speak the regular language so they made me an arran boy, doing all the heavy lifting they got tired too do. See I was, yes was easy influenced by them since I didn't understand differences between right and wrong, so I've injuried some people, and I've damage and broken local villages inns just for the sake of the caravan I travelled with.
As I grew up with the band, they thought I should arm and train myself. The head huncho working he whole parade, gave me lessons in merchandising, miniature weapons, poetry, reading, writing, and practicing of the language most spoke. I took about four years to learn how to pronounce words of a higher caliber then most of the caravan workers, I've became an good billing manager, and artist of my own. Making Calligraphy as a hobby, turned into something the band sells.
My personalities of being head strong, childish, self-assured, and strange came from looking up to the head man of the Caravan, Strark. I respect him, so did the caravan; that's why we've gotten awhile over the upcoming years. We've travelled from the north continent back when I was little, made across the tropics during that little learning experience I talked about, and I tell you boneless. We are a caravan coming into the middle of an war. Kou, was are destination, but all the hype I've heard Kou is a wasteland to much of the war happening around. I, Thorsten Ove, seek to better myself to later meet my family, and prove them wrong. Obtain glory from fabled tales I've heard of around villages. And be responsible of my actions.
Role-Play Sample:
- Another One Of My Characters RP Sample:
Mordecaiah woke up early to go feed the pigs. Nothing too uncommon to the loud noise of the waking roaster just letting loose. Bright early morning with the sun brimming across the horizon. Little skip to his step and dust off his shoes, Mordecaiah wasn't crackin’ nothin’ without some good ol juice to start him off right. A couple of large swings later and the words coming right from his mouth.
“ Ooooo Weeee, That's some tasty juice. Time ya’ feed them piglets “
Having a small accent nothing to serious. The Drake’s still sleeping, while he snuck off to gather up the junk and stuff for those piggies. Grabbing the large bag, and pulling it over his left shoulder bending crouching almost in his walk moving over to the little wooden contraption. Spreading out the food for the piggies, and letting the rest do its work as the wooden contraption held up their food. This was just the start of most of the farm life days.
Last edited by Thorsten Ove on 23/03/17, 01:13 am; edited 3 times in total
