Crown Prince Kayzir Arran Willard
Role: King's Firstborn Son, Crown Prince
Gender: Man
Title(s)/Alias(es): Crown Prince of Winterfall
Age: 17
Race: Human
Love Interest: Unknown
Password: wolf
Appearance:
Crown Prince Kayzir, with golden hair and ice blue eyes, stands above most others with an incredible presence. Although he’s not spectacularly large, his broad smile and concerned eyes immerse even the most stubborn noble to his charisma. He was born with beauty to rival the gods, but it is indeed his wide smile that makes him gorgeous. Gorgeous enough to sway any girl… and some boys. Although he is gorgeous, his features are masculine and angular. His back curves delicately into a plump caboose, and his torso beams gold, as well, muscled and toned, though not freakishly and he doesn’t flaunt it.
Preferred Clothing:
Hmm… depends on the mood. Sometimes fancy things. Gold. Lots and lots of gold, and silk, and frilly things. Sometimes very simple, like brown leather pants, old worn shirt. But always, always two constants: his black leather boots, and his princely circlet(often covered by a hood or hat).
In the court, as of late, he has chosen to wear ornate uniforms and robes and things to exemplify his perceived state of mind: resolute and strong. Kayzir is unsure if he is truly resolute, but reaching his coming of age has required that he show to all nobles that he is ready to take over as king when the time comes. This is partly a gift to his father. Partly a gift to himself, to make him feel better about what he thinks of himself.
But Kayzir knows that he'd be much more at home in a flowing yet raggy cotton robe. Why? A perceived sense of worth, even in a minute sense.
Height: 6'
Weight: 183 Ibs
Hair Color: Blond
Eye Color: Ice Blue
Personality:
Kayzir is a simple person. Though he is often the most ornately man in court, his personality is one of the people. Often he finds himself conversing in the market with an old woman or sitting with a fisherman by the river. Yes, he quite enjoys conversing with them. Occasionally he dresses in rags and walks around as a beggar. Through the grime and dirt, very few even think for a moment this man is important, yet the few that stop to give alms can see his eyes and know without a moment’s notice.
His eyes are unbending, staring with icy warmth that both invites and haunts those that look upon them. Though many eager girls would give their lives just to be in the same square foot radius as he, he prefers much rather to be alone or amongst the young guardians. One of the guardians catches his eyes, though he vows to never reveal to this to anyone, guardian or otherwise.
Heartthrob? Maybe. But he’d much rather not be. In fact, he often finds himself most happy in the morning, unkempt and faceless from sleep. Persons may be good conversationalists, but people are disgusting, which is why Kayzir writes for hours in his room or goes to the chapel and sits alone.
The truth is this: although his father and court dote over Kayzir and his “natural leadership abilities”, Kayzir would want nothing more to be but a simple hermit, certainly NOT a king. But this can all be dealt with later.
Oddities:
- -Kayzir coughs somewhat frequently, with deep, hacking fits.
-Kayzir has always had a slow breathing, and likewise a slow, booming voice.
-Kayzir refuses to use his left foot first, instead he must use his right food (i.e. when putting on shoes, walking through doors… etc.)
Likes:
- ☺ Silent prayer, prayerbooks, spiritual texts, vellums, all sorts of antiquated religious paraphernalia.
☺ Writing. Novels, poems, all that such.
☺ Spending time with the guardians.
☺ Going to the market and conversing with subjects.
Dislikes:
- ☹ Two-faced, insincere aristocrats
☹ Father's power trips.
☹ Overly "seductive" women.
Hobbies:
- ❤ Writing
❤ Praying
❤ Talking
Fears/Phobia(s):
- Father will find out about his "secret".
- Afraid he will not be ready to be king.
- His "crush" discovering his secret feelings.
How loyal are you to the king:} "Extremely loyal, though sometimes I wonder if I should be given more autonomy."
Skills/Talents: "I am a charismatic speaker, able to motivate friends and strangers alike. I am personable, and able to communicate even the most convoluted of ideas. Many find a sense of calm when I speak to them."
Preferred Weapon(s): Ceremonial Rapier
Power: Minor healing.
Abilities: Basically mend minor wounds, stop bleeding, cure headaches, etc.
Limitations: Broken bones, major sicknesses, major bleeding, gashing wounds.
Personal History:
What can be said about Kayzir’s history? Not much. He grew up with silverspoons. He lived a “happy” life as a prince in the palace, with his busy father and his embarrassingly expressive mother. He rarely got along with his younger brother, though he loved him to death.
His childhood was sometimes boring, sometimes exciting. He remembers waking up in the morning and sitting in the kitchen with the cook, Matilda, who would make the sweetest yet saltiest caramel he had ever tasted. Yum :). Then she would pat him on the head and scurry him outside, telling him “Breakfast is in two hours!” He would climb the trees and bounce around, causing general ruckus. About an hour before breakfast, he would sneak into the barracks and watch the male royal guards get dressed and undressed. Once at the age of 10, when he was caught, a younger guard(perhaps about the age of 16) slapped him on his butt and threw him out; not without throwing him a smile however.
It was after his morning peepshow that he would go up to shower, enjoying the greatest herbal soaps and scrubs the kingdom could offer. Though he was often bathed by his nana early in life, he chose to bathe alone after age 9. At age 12, after years of complacent “bathing”, his mother pleaded him to find a new bathing attendant. And so, to upset his mother and make fun of her, he ordered the young guard to be his new attendant. In the end, he quite enjoyed bathing, the guard enjoyed the pay, and his mother never nagged him again.
Breakfast was perhaps his favorite part of the day, descending the palatial staircase into the dining hall with sausage, bacon, eggs, foreign cheese, chocolates, omelettes, tomatos, potatoes(fries and hashbrowns), and just about every delicacy one could want in the morning. He would always sit between Duke Huget of the North and Contessa Vorian from the South, and listen to the odd rabbles of the aristocracy. Thankfully, he always had an excuse to skip out on lunch and dinner.
It was at age 15 that he discovered two very important aspects of his identity. First: One day, he was meandering through the market, busying himself with the purchase of some exotic foods and a few trinkets, when he heard some ruckus in the backalley. It was perhaps to subtle for others to hear, but loud enough to cause a stir in his heart. A moan, a slight whimper, perhaps? Anyway, Kayzir rushed to the scene of the sound, attempting to be as quiet as possible. And there he saw an older man attempting to rape a younger boy, perhaps a little older than Kayzir. Of course, the duties of nobility and royalty did not phase Kayzir, and to the rescue he came with his trusty rapier. The older man was of no challenge, so with scarred face and tired belly, he ran off into the shadows.
Kayzir lifted the boy on his, the dainty fellow he was. “How old are you, boy?” Kayzir asked.
“16,” he replied.
“A year older than I!” Kayzir was surprisingly excited, and with a smile, hardly embraced the boy.
“Thank you, sir, but who are you?” the boy asked.
Not wanting to brag or boast, he simply said, “Kayzir…”
In thanks, the boy kissed Kayzir on the lips, intimately but innocently, and then scurried off to never be seen again. The warmth on Kayzir’s lips startled him, though he felt free… a sudden chill came up his spine and wrestled out through his neck into his hair and he felt a sudden rush of ecstasy. This is when he realized he liked boy.
The second piece of identity came later in the year, of course. A brief story, thank the gods. On a visit with his brother to his grandmother in the country, his grandma stood over a hearth, kneading dough. He was sitting by the window out over the lake where the grandma lived, sipping some lukewarm, overly sweetened coffee. His brother had run off somewhere, ignoring his grandma as a symbol of tradition. “Grandma,” Kayzir worked up enough strength to say, “I think I like boys…”
She continued to knead.
“Grandma?”
“What? This is of no surprise.”
“What do you mean?”
“I foresaw this long ago. It was I who commended you to Heaven, to serve the Divine. If you like boys, it simply means your spirit is balanced and even. Now shut up and get the hearth hotter, throw in some wood.”
Of course Kayzir pondered this over many hours, many days. Soon enough he would find out what it means.
Theme Song: Victory of Life by Future World Music]{Victory of Life by Future World Music }
Source(s): Deviantart.com, 4chan.com, imgur.com, youtube.com
Other: Secretly homosexual... cough cough.