Name: Jin Odin Kisaragi
Age: 22
Sex: Male


Country of Origin: Mintold

Physical Description:

Standing a towering 6'1 and a body made of pure athletic muscle, weighs him at a decent 195 lbs. His body is easily a work of art, focus, and determination, spending years training to become a dragoon of Mintold. His slender figure, due to his tall stature, gives off a less muscular appearance when wearing his regular clothes. His hair is a deep black, the kind of black you could easily get lost in. Long like his father's it reaches his back, straight and never curly it fits perfectly in his dragoon helmet, never being seen unless off duty. His eyes are a deep purple, vibrant and burning with gentleness. His skin is a light white, tanned and rarely shown.

His normal clothes consist of a black dragoon jacket, trimmed with a red line of thread. Underneath such a nice jacket a red colored under armor clings to his body, having the appearance of a normal collared red shirt. At his waist rests his everyday hilt and sheathe. Upon his legs his normal loose, baggy attire stays. Although his true attire consists of his dragoon armor and plenty of scary weaponry.

Starting from the top of his head rests a 2 and a quarter inch stone helm overlapping itself, forming spikes that jet out backwards. Leading down to his shoulder the same type of armor can be found stretching all the way down both arms, reaching the tip of his knuckles, black gloves cover his hands. The gloves are made of a gripping material from a specific stone, know as Glute. Glute helps gripping weapons easier, and more effectively.

Turning to his side the armor stretches to his armpits forming around them and connecting to his shoulder attachments. The armor is a dull, polished grey, almost giving off a steel look. Underneath his side armor rests his tight black under cloth, a fabric made from rock salt, preserving the sweat produced by humans transfers it back to his skin to cool it

Reaching his waist you'll find a very baggy form of clothing, black pants , thick and unusual to most that observe his outfit, the pants are very slim. Upon his appearance his pants would seem heavy and hard to move in. Overlapping his pants rests a thin layer of cloth, long and almost a hakama appearance. With such loose and baggy clothing the wind consistently raises his lower clothing giving off a cape like effect. On his back rests a stone like attachment protruding from his side armor, two curving spikes, made to latch on to his large bastard sword.

His Large Sword rests at his back, usually a steel and vibrant silver, his is a odd rusty brown color with shades of grey. The view from the back is usually when his nicely structured dragoon boots are seen, looking nothing like the other Dragoon armor, Jin wears a solid black trimmed boot. On this boot rests a symbol, or badge to represent his squad. At his right side rests a gold forming buckle, however regardless of it's harmless appearance, it holds a stone white hilt. Mainly sheathed in it's black onyx mane of stone, the blade is a slender straight shape, reaching it's end comes the fatal tip, all made of quartzite, one of the strongest rock types from Mintold.(Equally as strong as steel.)
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Personality:
Being part of the Dragoon squad suits his attitude well, determined to put a stop to unjust criminals and threats against his beloved capital of Minthold. Taking pride in his work, Jin often finds him self board of everyday patrols. Rarely listening to his commanding officers, Jin has a carefree sense about him. Emotionally, Jin sees' himself as a burden to his squad, not being able to take in synthesized Mediere makes it hard for Jin. Staying in such a renowned atmosphere with ideals based off the one thing he can't stand, has forced Jin to hate the very thing that war is about.

In his free time, Jin is a genuine normal guy, loves his drinks, and women. Parties are one thing however he disapproves of. Consistently on his guard, even in the most happiest of places Jin could easily plan out a vital escape plan, or precaution to save others. With his own code of honor, Jin views the world differently then many others and with it comes odd complications based on his decisions. Artistic when it comes to combat Jin thirsts for a amusing fight. His whole life he trained his body, to swing a bastard sword, and even master what his country of Mintold calls, "Quart fencing." His unrivaled determination to become a master of weapons is slowly making him a decent asset to his country...

Likes:
-Weapons-
-Training-
-Sculptures-
-Women-

Dislike:
-Hates Mediere-
-Liars-
-Himself, for being shunned by most captains in his line of work for not being able to use Mediere accurately.-
-Rules-

Weakness: Synthesized Mediere, Reckless(Mainly During severe circumstances), Blames himself for losses...

Equipment:

Dragoon Armor: A upper and side layer of silver stone, approximately two and a quarter inch thick. Hollow and light, gives off a heavier appearance making some think speed is the winning factor. It's properties hold spike like features, head piece being the most noticeable. The color is an off set grey, giving the illusion it's made of steel. With such armor comes attachments specifically made by the users, Jins being a stone hook like feature to hold his large Bastard Sword.

Glute Gloves: Gloves made from a special rock called Glute, it's sticky and slime like features make it a tough substance to work with. Heating Glute in a pan causes it's form and properties to change to a solid black rubber like fabric. As thin as cloth and eventually made into some everyday attire, the first breakthrough was a gripping dotted, texture. Forming this into a glove it eventually became a vital role in wielding swords better.

Black Onyx(One handed Quartzite Sword): The name given to the sword by Jin, the sword is artistically perfect. Even with it's angular hilt shape it caresses the fore-thumb perfectly allowing for optimal advances on the opponent with effortless barrages of strikes. The blade is a long slender form, made of Quartzite, mined by his father the blades color is a deep purple, almost a black. One of the few rarest swords of Mintold it's beauty is rarely captured in action, some say the name comes from being tightly held in the depths of Jin's black gleaming Onyx sheathe...

Lotus: Known for it's age and common use among many warriors, this bastard sword is made of a rusting substance imbedded into the metal blade. Forged by sulfuric acid properties in many crystalline rocks found in common caves among Mintold. With such properties buried into the sword, deep cuts can cause a series of problems for it's victim. The blade's most noted effect is Tetanus, Tetanus often begins with mild spasms in the jaw muscles (lockjaw). The spasms can also affect the chest, neck, back, and abdominal muscles. Sometimes the spasms affect muscles that help with breathing, which can lead to breathing problems. Prolonged muscular action causes sudden, powerful, and painful contractions of muscle groups. This is called tetany. These episodes can cause fractures and muscle tears. Known only to be cured by a lotus pedal Jin's father passed it down to him, with the name, Lotus...

History:

Semi-Childhood:

"Swing Left! Right! Up! Horizontal ominashi!, Damn it boy! Can't you do anything right?" Jin had just turned ten and with his age came many years of training prior to this day. His mind was set free from the forced mining contract his father had to accept or else the house and his child would be taken from him. Forced to work keep his family alive and sufficient, his father forcibly trained his only son, Jin Odin Kisaragi. Day by day his father taught him how to swing a sword and accurately strike vital points on a human body. Doing this made Jin a lover of fighting, weapons were his true paradise. Mediere being his planets main abundant resource had been used for decades and with it came synthesizing, a process in which made Mediere absorb-able by skin.

Jin since he was little had always wanted to play around with Meidere and become his favorite Idol, Riven Black, a dragoon soldier so powerful in the arts of Stone Mediere that he could take on several enemies with one usage. His first encounter with Mediere was when he had just turned three. His parents wrapped them perfectly to not be harmed and freshly synthesized to cause no complications. Ripping the box open he jumped and cheered, giving his dad a hug he ran to the vibrant crystals. Touching one he pressed it down on his skin, a jolt of pain seized his body. His eyes went still and his bones fell dead. His mother rushing to his side watched as her son began to shake at a terrifying rate. Sweat slid down every part of his body, and wheezing began to exemplify what was taking place.

It was called Synthi-Geric Disease, so the medicine doctors said, Jin was unable to safely use synthesized Mediere. apparently something used in the process made Jin's body reject it, he was only the second case on Scarkim to ever be recorded. Angered with this fact Jin immediately asked his father to train him in weaponry, at age three he never stopped pushing forward. Kids that played with him criticized him for not being able to bend stone to his will or make sculptures like most kids his age. fed up with such disrespect he made it his life's mission to be worth something, something better.

Years later....

With his father deathly ill and training with two forms of weaponry over the course of eight years Jin had come into his own, successful usefulness. Signing up for a regular guard job two years prior to his father's sickness was accepted. Old friends he grew up with spit towards him and even ordered him to get them things. Jin rarely listening to them shrugged it off, the same old insults just weren't worth hearing to anymore. On the day of his combat exam Jin proved himself many times over completely decimating the competition. Rushing to tell his father of his success he barreled through the door. His shoulder hung forward with a wide smile, a loud cough came to his ears and with it a raspy voice called for him.

"Jin, is that...cough...cough...you boy?" Jin hurried to his father's bedside, mother standing with a hot damp cloth. kneeling down to his father's eye level, Jin lightly spoke, "Dad, I did it, we did it!" Jin placing his right arm over his father's stomach lightly grinned at the grim situation. His father pushing himself up motioned to his mother and with all effort, the truth came out.

"Listen to me boy, I don't have much time to do this so your mother will look after you, but..before I go I want you to have this. It's unique and incredibly powerful in the hands of a intelligent warrior. Your heart's only as cold as warmth you give it, live colder then the warmth you keep. It's my time, do not cry over your father's departure, son do great things....and you will go...." His father's speech still lingered as his sentence cut off in a grizzly distance of a lifeless whisper.

"Far." His father closing his eyes had left him, and his mother. His hand grew pale and with it his hair fell dead. Jin's mother hysterical place a giant box on top of the bed. Jin still clutching onto his father, finally released his eyes wet, filled with anger and despair. The color of a purple lilac, perfect and precise like a flowers growth. They moved to the end of the bed as Jin read the white slip of cloth.

I am glad to leave your mother with a son like you, so valiant and courageous. I know you'll pass the combat exam and become a dragoon one day, I know because the fire in your purple eyes tells me everything. I've been ill for sometime now and even though I knew i refused treatment, god wanted me, and so he shall. I will always love you Jin, you are my pride and most of all my son. Never forget, Your heart's only as cold as warmth you give it, live colder then the warmth you keep. I'll see you again this side or other...

wiping the tears from his eyes he stood weak and shocked. with the strength he had left in his fingers he slide the top of the giant box open, a Sword with a sharp white tag on it read, Lotus. Jin stretched for it's surface caressing it lightly with his hands, he met rust and smooth steel. His eyes lit up like a raging fire, looking to his father's dead body he lifted it to the air and with a loud cry began to pray.

"Take him father! Make his passing safe, and may the gods strike not at his back, nor heart! Make sure they bring only the good with him into the gates of everlasting heaven!" His voice a thundering roar, his body drained of emotion, fainted slamming into the floor...

Present day..
Two years had passed since the death of his father and with his mother, moved and living in Ga'rand he knew she would be safe. Other relatives had decided to follow her in her footsteps. Now a weapon master for the Dragoon squad, Alpha, he searches for meaning in his role to live, to push forward as he did as a child. With his head held high and the chimes of the distant mining echoes he live on never forgetting..

Your heart's only as cold as warmth you give it, live colder then the warmth you keep.