♦ Alexander "Kos" McNallen ♦
♦ GENERAL INFORMATION ♦
Role:
Capricorn
Gender:
Male
Nickname(s)/Alias(es):
Kos/Alexander McNallen
Age:
27
Love Interest:
N/A
♦ APPEARANCE ♦
Height:
202cm
Weight:
90kg
Build:
Athletic
Hair Color:
White
Eye Color:
Grey
Scars/Tattoos/Piercings:
Black tribal tattoo on left shoulder, tracing its way across his back.
Description:
Eyes tend to change colour depending on his mood, but they mostly stay the same dead grey, as always. He tends to walk around with midnight blue staff, with a rusted metal cap on the bottom. On top of said staff is a brass dragon claw, and held within it's grasp is an obsidian orb. Kos refuses to wear shoes, and claims it blocks his connection to the dying world. Because of this, his feet are padded the same way an animal's feet are padded.
Preferred Clothing:
Mourning clothing.
♦ MENTALITY ♦
Oddities:
Always seems to be crying, and speaking to someone that is not physically present.
Skills:
Able to disappear, despite his size, and tread quietly, even upon squeaky floorboards.
Likes:
♦Wandering the world
♦Being alone
♦Helping those around him
Dislikes:
♦Crowded areas
♦Pestered
♦Being interrupted
Hobbies:
♦Collecting colourful stones
Phobia(s):
♦Losing anyone he trusts
Sexuality:
Asexual
Personality:
Those who first meet him may find Kos to be cold hearted, but that is not so. He looks upon life with a look of melancholy and an ocean of patience. In his mind's eye, the world is as it should be, but when he looks back upon the land, his eyes weep with a great sorrow that many would break under the strain. At times, his mind will snap under the pressure, but those who look closely will see a small boy, hiding in fear of what he sees, but the crack in his defenses are soon boarded back up, and the cold sets back into his eyes.
Although he has an ocean of patience, and will address each obstacle with a calm greater than the patience of a mountain, one must never try his patience. For if one were to irritate, and cause him to become angered, then woe be unto the poor soul who does so. As the saying goes, "Demons run in fright, when good men go to war," it is the same for Kos. Those who try his patience, may find the quiet, calm, but crying man has more fight in him than what others may think.
♦ COMBATIVENESS ♦
Weapon Discipline:
♦Staff
♦CQC
♦Projectiles (sling)
Abilities:
♦Shape small objects out of stone, clay, ash, and dirt
♦Astrally project his essence, and walk about the world for a short time
♦When his feet are on the ground, he can call up a grid within his mind, and locate anything moving, but only within five metres of him
♦Has the gift of Reiki
♦If angered enough, he can shake the earth until he is spent.
♦ BACKGROUND ♦
Relationship Status: Single
Family: Unknown
Personal History:
Thirteen years ago, they had found him alone, bleeding, damaged, and had decided to bring the child into their home, knowing full well they did not have enough food to fill another belly. It had appeared that this broken shell would soon pass on, though, and, t the very least, they would have fresh meat to last them for a while. Staying close, they watched as the chest of the child rose and fell slowly, sometimes shakily. At times, though, the chest became still, causing thoughts of meat filling their bellies created small cracks within their faces. Until, that is, the chest rose and fell once more. It wasn't until the following morning they would know the child would live, and decided to keep and name him, 'Alexander McNallen'.
The McNallens were scavengers and thieves, but had their own Code of Honour: Never Kill. They avoided it, as they avoided the guards patrolling the outer walls of the city, when they decided to raid it. Even when it was a kill or be killed scenario, they avoided killing unless it was necessary. These were what he was taught, but only the portion of trying not to kill another stuck with him, even when their home was raided and torched by an unknown force. Even when he was told to run, instead of staying and fighting. Even when he was caught, and nearly killed another in a blind rage. The thought of killing sickened him, and swore off it, as he turned his back on the only only home he can remember, and began to wander the waste.
Not a full day had gone by before Kos became mind numbingly exhausted, and collapsed where he stood. He fell to the earth, but instead of the ground, it was something else. Something he could never recall fully, but it had awakened something within him. It called to him, but he was afraid, and tried to run. Running was useless, however, because his dreams haunted him, and that something continued to call out. It wasn't until a year later, when he was attacked, robbed, and left for dead, that he finally accepted the calling. Immediately, he felt alive, refreshed, but calm. That is, until he stepped foot onto the waste's dead soil. Tears flowed in a steady stream, as he watched with his inner eyes, the destruction of the world that once was, and may never be again.
With neither the thirst, nor hunger set upon his shoulders like a lesser man, he set out upon a 13 year journey in search of answers to his questions. Questions, he, himself, didn't have.
♦ GENERAL INFORMATION ♦
Role:
Capricorn
Gender:
Male
Nickname(s)/Alias(es):
Kos/Alexander McNallen
Age:
27
Love Interest:
N/A
♦ APPEARANCE ♦
Height:
202cm
Weight:
90kg
Build:
Athletic
Hair Color:
White
Eye Color:
Grey
Scars/Tattoos/Piercings:
Black tribal tattoo on left shoulder, tracing its way across his back.
Description:
Eyes tend to change colour depending on his mood, but they mostly stay the same dead grey, as always. He tends to walk around with midnight blue staff, with a rusted metal cap on the bottom. On top of said staff is a brass dragon claw, and held within it's grasp is an obsidian orb. Kos refuses to wear shoes, and claims it blocks his connection to the dying world. Because of this, his feet are padded the same way an animal's feet are padded.
Preferred Clothing:
Mourning clothing.
♦ MENTALITY ♦
Oddities:
Always seems to be crying, and speaking to someone that is not physically present.
Skills:
Able to disappear, despite his size, and tread quietly, even upon squeaky floorboards.
Likes:
♦Wandering the world
♦Being alone
♦Helping those around him
Dislikes:
♦Crowded areas
♦Pestered
♦Being interrupted
Hobbies:
♦Collecting colourful stones
Phobia(s):
♦Losing anyone he trusts
Sexuality:
Asexual
Personality:
Those who first meet him may find Kos to be cold hearted, but that is not so. He looks upon life with a look of melancholy and an ocean of patience. In his mind's eye, the world is as it should be, but when he looks back upon the land, his eyes weep with a great sorrow that many would break under the strain. At times, his mind will snap under the pressure, but those who look closely will see a small boy, hiding in fear of what he sees, but the crack in his defenses are soon boarded back up, and the cold sets back into his eyes.
Although he has an ocean of patience, and will address each obstacle with a calm greater than the patience of a mountain, one must never try his patience. For if one were to irritate, and cause him to become angered, then woe be unto the poor soul who does so. As the saying goes, "Demons run in fright, when good men go to war," it is the same for Kos. Those who try his patience, may find the quiet, calm, but crying man has more fight in him than what others may think.
♦ COMBATIVENESS ♦
Weapon Discipline:
♦Staff
♦CQC
♦Projectiles (sling)
Abilities:
♦Shape small objects out of stone, clay, ash, and dirt
♦Astrally project his essence, and walk about the world for a short time
♦When his feet are on the ground, he can call up a grid within his mind, and locate anything moving, but only within five metres of him
♦Has the gift of Reiki
♦If angered enough, he can shake the earth until he is spent.
♦ BACKGROUND ♦
Relationship Status: Single
Family: Unknown
Personal History:
Thirteen years ago, they had found him alone, bleeding, damaged, and had decided to bring the child into their home, knowing full well they did not have enough food to fill another belly. It had appeared that this broken shell would soon pass on, though, and, t the very least, they would have fresh meat to last them for a while. Staying close, they watched as the chest of the child rose and fell slowly, sometimes shakily. At times, though, the chest became still, causing thoughts of meat filling their bellies created small cracks within their faces. Until, that is, the chest rose and fell once more. It wasn't until the following morning they would know the child would live, and decided to keep and name him, 'Alexander McNallen'.
The McNallens were scavengers and thieves, but had their own Code of Honour: Never Kill. They avoided it, as they avoided the guards patrolling the outer walls of the city, when they decided to raid it. Even when it was a kill or be killed scenario, they avoided killing unless it was necessary. These were what he was taught, but only the portion of trying not to kill another stuck with him, even when their home was raided and torched by an unknown force. Even when he was told to run, instead of staying and fighting. Even when he was caught, and nearly killed another in a blind rage. The thought of killing sickened him, and swore off it, as he turned his back on the only only home he can remember, and began to wander the waste.
Not a full day had gone by before Kos became mind numbingly exhausted, and collapsed where he stood. He fell to the earth, but instead of the ground, it was something else. Something he could never recall fully, but it had awakened something within him. It called to him, but he was afraid, and tried to run. Running was useless, however, because his dreams haunted him, and that something continued to call out. It wasn't until a year later, when he was attacked, robbed, and left for dead, that he finally accepted the calling. Immediately, he felt alive, refreshed, but calm. That is, until he stepped foot onto the waste's dead soil. Tears flowed in a steady stream, as he watched with his inner eyes, the destruction of the world that once was, and may never be again.
With neither the thirst, nor hunger set upon his shoulders like a lesser man, he set out upon a 13 year journey in search of answers to his questions. Questions, he, himself, didn't have.