__________________Quick Stats
Name- Aldouvan Ethnoir
Nicknames- None! Feel free to give him some!
Birthday- May 28
Zodiac Sign- Gemini
Age- 97
Gender- Male
Sexual Orientation- Bisexual
Single or Taken?- Taken, but to be considered single if outside of Aedolis.
Species- Elf
Blood type- B-
Height- 5’8
Weight- 185 lbs.
Eye Color- Chestnut Brown
Hair Color- Pale Yellow
Affiliation- None- He’s waiting for something to change his mind- something that can offer him the world. Otherwise, he's out for number one.
Religion- Name a religion, and he probably has charms for it. His fear of death has caused him to become excessively polytheistic, believing that faith in all gods was a much better failsafe than throwing all his eggs in one basket. After all, with his soul on the line, he isn’t one to simply sit content with one religion to watch out for his eternal fate. He simply prefers to ignore a certain commandment that says, "Thou shalt have no other gods," much preferring to be safe in the afterlife rather than sorry.
Occupation- When in Aedolis, he's a construction worker, and thus can afford to take extended leaves of absence- after all, construction markets are always fickle. Using these credits to buy novelty objects, he uses those to gain a nice, hefty profit in Space Station Cancer. If he's gotten himself in a pickle with customs (it's happened very rarely, though, since the bulk of everything he sells is perfectly legal), he works as a temporary bartender in Cancer until everything smoothes over. He also plays high-stakes card games in his spare time, and carts specialty "herbs" from Aedolis to deal out during the games. However profitable, he very, very rarely sticks his nose into the arms business. Much too risky.
Birth Place- Edanith
Location- Space Station Cancer
Most Used Phrase(s)- "Hey, I'm not looking for trouble..." "That's nice. Call me when danger's over, okay? I'll be hiding right here."
Character of Mine Most Likely to... Run from a fight (Aldouvan is most definitely not a combat monkey.)
Finished Threads- None yet.
Current Threads- None yet.
__________________In-Depth Stuff
Physical Description- This elf has a thin frame, and doesn't feel any ill at ease for fitting the stereotypical schema. His hair isn't the long, flowing mane that one might expect from one of the regal race, but rather a tussled, disorganized mass of straw-blond hair sitting atop his head. Always looking as if he had just recently engaged in slightly less-than-decent activities (which earned him the name Sex Hair by his friends), his content smile and bedraggled hairstyle often give him a rather comfortable air. His eyes are a deep brown... so dark, they are almost to the point of being indiscernible in hue against his pupils.
He's not a fan of most types jewelry or other accessories, and some find that his ears are strangely bare and his fingers unadorned. However, this is not true when it comes to less visible areas. Aldouvan has a vast collection of religious talismans around his neck, numbering around fifty in number to represent some of the more popular religious sects. He also has some very discreet adornments, with his belly button sporting a sapphire stud and his left nipple showing off a completely fake ring. This magnetic ring is meant to throw others off his trail if he's being pursued, as he makes sure to remain shirtless whenever he feels threatened by prying eyes. This is because he normally covers his back and arms in temporary tattoos, making it even harder for someone trying to identify him if he happens to be a perpetrator in a lineup. If he feels like he's being set up, he makes sure to carry around something to wipe the evidence of his identity right off of his skin.
He carries around a small leather sack, with the drawstring being only the first of three security measures leading to his most prized possession- one of his fake right hands. Having lost it some time ago, he keeps two out of three of his prosthetics with him at all times; one on his right arm, which ends at the wrist, and the other inside of the bag. Because the bag also requires a drop of his saliva and voice identification to open, he finds that his 'dear friend' is well secured. The bag looks inconspicuous not because of the material, but the size, since his second hand can fold into a small cube, no bigger than two inches in diameter. He also keeps it in his pants, in a pocket on the inside of his left thigh.
Even if someone noticed it when he sits down, the location keeps a lot of hands away from it. If he does intend to woo someone, however, he loops the sack around his neck and hides it among his numerous talismans. After all, it'd be unpleasant for an eager, roaming hand to run into something so cubical if they were expecting something more... cylindrical.
He wears two layers atop his torso- a thin, long-sleeved shirt and a vest that lies atop it. To be truthful, the first layer is somewhat incomplete. Though the white material is meant to hide his prosthetic wrist, he can't stand the feeling of cloth on his arms, and thus haphazardly tore the left sleeve off where the shoulder meets his neck. Some say the ragged look suits him. The overlying white vest is made of an elvish cloth, designed to protect him from stray fire (Though it wasn't an open invitation to get into trouble, he certainly saw it that way.). Across his chest, two black belts intersect, crossing in an 'X' pattern in front of his torso. The long neck of the underlying shirt and the low-cut nature of the vest gives him a nice place to hook his talismans, keeping them beneath the shirt and against the skin to give his chest a slightly more buff appearance. Or so he thinks. It's strange to think of a lumpy chest as being stronger, after all, but it prevents his talismans from being used as a leash to hold him in combat.
He wears a glove on his right prosthetic, with each one having a different color- the one with his Aedolian chip has a red glove, the one without any form of weaponry has a blue glove (which also happens to be the most convincing hand, due to the higher-quality skin polymers), and the one intended for self-defense wears a black glove. This black-gloved hand is reinforced with steel in its knuckles, knife blades just beneath the fingertips (the skin is thinnest at the end of the fingers in this model), and can stun people with mild electric shocks if he grasps them with his palm. He rarely ever wears the last glove, as it requires close-quarters combat.
His pants are always a fair shade of white, as well, reaching down to sophisticated-looking black shoes. The last thing he wants is to look like a peasant.
Personality- Aldouvan is a man who knows what he wants, and wants to get it as soon as possible. A real believer in making the most out of life, all the cursed man wants to do is to live his shortened life out to the fullest, cramming in as much enjoyment as possible and making enough of a ruckus to at least get a name for himself before he starts pushing up daisies. While normally this would make him a prime candidate as a citizen of Aedolis- which he is- he also loves his freedom, wanting nothing more than to rush to see everything positive this warring galaxy has to offer... but what people mistake for nonchalance stems not from hedonism, but from sheer desperation to get the most out a purposeless life.
He seems quite nonchalant in front of others, but what he thinks of them is generally left unsaid. While he likes idle chatter as much as the next fellow, he'd much prefer action to sitting about. Already quite attached to the worlds he's been to, he has no intention of leaving them earlier than he has to... and thus comes across as quite the coward to others. His moods swing a bit from the tumor in his brain, and his fear of the Aedolis using his brain for other things than treatment frightens him more than the prospect of death. Because of this ticking time bomb, he often comes across as happy to be alive, but a tad impatient to get from point A to B.
His haste to make most life decisions makes him rash, unpredictable, and, to put it frankly, stupid. So as not to regret any decisions he makes, he often jumps on the bandwagon and "trusts his heart"... or instincts, rather... to guide him to the decisions that would be most beneficial or pleasurable for him. Unfortunately, this also means that he never fully thinks things through, picking one side of a scenario to focus on rather than looking at the whole issue before making his decisions. This way, he feels as if he's justified his choice, but it doesn't mean that they're always the right ones.
He's also an accepting hypocrite- if he wants people to treat him nice before he stabs them in the back, it really means next to nothing. He accepts hypocrisy as part of his own persona, and makes no effort to change.
During business, however, he's a determined individual- and a crafty one, at that- striving to get the most out of anything he can get. Generosity generally isn't a word in his vocabulary.
Weaknesses- He is positively blind to any and all types of magic- he can't sense, see, or even begin to think about magic without getting a severe headache from brain strain. He believes that there's no such thing- the one mage attack he ever took left him believing that he was simply burned by a freak accident, even though there had been nothing around to wound him and the mage had never come into physical contact with him. Because of this, he is in vehement denial as to the existence of magic, much preferring that than the alternative of truth. He is also extremely vulnerable to psychic strikes, and has nothing to defend himself from them.
Aldouvan is also dreadfully afraid of death, and lives out his life running from the inevitable fate that awaits him at the end of his road. The mere mention of his mortality strikes a very sore spot, and this thought pattern drives him to extreme thoughts of self-preservation and cowardice. Such actions in light of recent events make it hard for him to develop lasting friendships in dangerous areas, but do not affect his life when he is steeped in safety.
He's also quite afraid of surgeons, but little wonder why.
Strengths- The lack of a true right hand allows him to either be a citizen of Aedolis or a complete stranger to their society, allowing him to blend in and absorb the pleasures and perks of the totalitarian country while being able to leave the boundaries without a trace whenever he deems fit, while his surprising dexterity lets him pick pockets like a fiend when he puts his mind to it.
Likes-The loving company of men and women, bloodletting, scamming, pick pocketing, partying, and having that nice, occasional adrenaline rush. The kind that doesn't come with the possibility of death, mind you.
Dislikes- Spinach, doctors, surgeons, scalpels, fish, medical science, chastity belts, and containment.
Magic/Abilities- No magic skills whatsoever- not even magic perception. However, he's remarkably adept at dodging incoming attacks, so long as they're long ranged and possible to dodge. (Ex: Dodging a bullet from 2 feet away is asinine, but dodging one from 30 feet just might be possible.) Self-defense skills were taught to him at a young age, but once again, they're defensive- aikido is not intended for offense, but he's adept at the skills they teach. Of course, he'd much rather hide under a couch while fights are going on, but can defend himself if absolutely necessary.
History- Born among the Edani culture, the small elf Aldouvan was quite a strange lad from the start. An upstart brat, he terrorized his well-off father and his estranged mother at every opportunity, spending his father's money foolishly or acting atrociously to his schizophrenic mother. She, Grevenian Eldresin, had not developed her family's hereditary brain deformation until after she had given birth to Aldouvan, where the sheer spike in estrogen and progesterone during her pregnancy caught up with her in the form of the behavioral disorder, while her husband merely carried the trait in his blood. Aldouvan's reputed grandparents, who had Mordecai talents, often looked down upon their outrageous grandson, constantly trying to tame the boy like they had tamed their assigned mages' minds. Vehlderouth Ethnoir, Aldouvan's father, felt no such need, feeling that a boy that grew up free found out the boundaries of life for himself.
And find out he did, but only after quite a few years of life. After his first several years as an adolescent, his reckless behavior caught him a strange, blood-borne disease from one of the local whores. His unfortunate bloodletting preferences had landed him straight in the hospital after several weeks of delusional behavior, off-balance teetering, and double vision, where they discovered that he had acquired the illness. Indeed, she was only a carrier, and felt no ill effects, but he was placed on antibiotics for weeks while his brain was scanned for any permanent damage from the nerve-attacking pathogens. While at first there appeared to be no permanent injuries, he found out a few decades later that there had indeed been serious repercussions for his immature behavior.
But all the poking, prodding, ordering, chaos, and containment of the unnaturally sanitized hospitals left him with a very bad impression of hospitals, doctors, and medicine as a whole. As he had fallen in and out of consciousness following the first injections of test drugs that would eventually destroy the invading pathogens, the repeated trauma left him understandably bitter and irate. Constantly overhearing his doctors fretting about possible brain damage as a result of his syphilis-like disease, they kept wondering aloud if he was 'going to be a vegetable', 'better off dead', or was 'a waste of family funds'. Naturally, his feelings didn't become nice and cheery.
As he was recovering, his physical therapy consisted of self-defense exercises, designed to exercise all the muscles of his body as well as to discipline his mind. His teacher taught him that there were dangers in life that could end it swiftly, and taught him how to protect himself from it. Aldouvan's rebellious streak came back with gusto, ending only when his instructor told him simply that succeeding here would completely undermine his doctors' expectations. Still, his heart was never in it- he was more inclined to get away with the bare minimum amount of work possible. As soon as he was deemed fit to leave, he did, exercising his freedom once again.
A drinking expedition turned violent one night, when a local Mordecai found him attempting to eat the face off of his precious Mageling, and treated him accordingly. He was grabbed, burned, twisted, and thrown headfirst against the door as a rather unpleasant consequence for his wandering hands and lewd intentions. As he was carted from the bar on a stretcher, his right wrist shattered and the extensive burns on his hands left him far more confused and bewildered than angry- it was his first brush with magic, and he saw nothing of it but the end result. The trauma of the blow to the head and the pain of the injury knocked him straight into a concussion, and he didn't wake up for a few days.
By then, the doctors he held so dear had more excellent news for him. His hand had been hacked off in his sleep, his entire skeleton had been scanned to make sure that there weren't any permanent injuries, and they'd found a nice, cancerous lump sitting right in his brain. Goody. As one could imagine, he didn't take it very well, demanding at once to see the head surgeon about this at once. As if his luck wasn't bad enough, though, he was told that he could only get the surgery to remove the tiny but clearly malignant tumor in Aedolis, the place his people loathed like the plague itself.
Going there was suicide, especially since one couldn't leave- but staying was resigning himself to death. Using his money and family influence, he had two prosthetic hands made- his folding spare hand was kept in his father's spare pouch, and he wore the second one on his stump of a wrist. Resigned to die in a foreign country, he left Mars, moving in and filing for citizenship in Aedolis while beginning his polytheistic view on hope for the afterlife. Maybe it wasn't as bad as this hellhole.
The moment his primary prosthetic was implanted with the identification chip, Aldouvan immediately regretted his decision and began quietly looking for a way to leave the city... especially when he found out that his currency was absolutely no good in the totalitarian society. Determined to blend in, he partied to his heart's content- it was not such a bad life, he thought, though he knew in the back of his mind that death as small as a grain of rice was growing by the day, suppressed only by the normally immortal tissue of his brain. After a few months, he gained the attention of one of his most devoted lovers, Deu.
After they became deeply involved, it was Deu rather than Aldouvan that discovered the critical loophole in Aedolis's citizenship laws... the chip in his hand. Because the elder elf could remove his hand at will, he could leave whenever he pleased. But it was Aldouvan that realized the danger- if they were tracking movements with the chips, what was the likelihood that a man would just stop moving altogether for months, if not years? Arranging a deal with his boyfriend and lover, he agreed to come back if Deu would carry the hand around with him at all times. After all, the database had data that suggested that the two always held hands, and this would no longer look suspicious.
Sneaking aboard a ship that landed near the country, he waited until they returned to their original port, Space Station Cancer. Bartering passage with a successful high-stakes game of cards, he befriended the crew and made them a deal, as well; if he could get enough helpful objects out of Aedolis, they would cart him about as he pleased. However, he found that he rather liked the chaos of Cancer, no matter how ironic its name was. It was there that he earned his combat prosthetic, and also where he learned that being ambiguous was ever so helpful in a dog-eat-dog universe. For once, the adrenaline rush was seen as a high, not a dread-inducing feeling. The freedom he felt now was relished more than anything he had in his life, and he pledged to live it to the fullest.
Commentary- I don't know why this profile took so long to make. I felt like pieces of him just came together over the hours, but only a little at a time. Odd, indeed.
