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[color=#551033][size=400][font=Courier New]James Dylor[/font][/size][/color]
Name
James Dylor
Nickname
Heāll answer to nearabout anything, so long as he knows itās directed towards him. He doesnāt have specific nicknames though, he doesnāt have enough friends to have a nickname. Though his Mum used to call him Jamsie. He wasnāt too fond of that, admittedly.
Age
19-20 (146)
Gender
Male
Appearance
James is little. He looks like a kid because he only stands at five foot three. Thank his mother for that. He has dark brown hair that verges on black in the back and eyes bluer than even seems possible. He looks a bit of a mess, with his ruffled hair, but he holds himself like a servant, and it shows. Though one probably wouldnāt guess of the bat that heās a lykae. Well, half a lykae. His mother was a human, his father a rash young lykae with a taste for small women. James takes heavily after his hother; he looks only slightly stronger than a rag doll, his body more built to run that it is to fight. Heās very tan from working and a healthy enjoyment of the sun. Though he looks more breakable than a twig because of his small frame, heās actually well built, by human standards. His muscle is more discrete than is fit for a Lykae though. He has an expressive face, open as a book, and elusive but nice smile. His hands are covered in calluses from all his hard work, he could hold them over a flame and not feel the burn for a matter of seconds, the layer of dead skin is so thick from his hard work.
Occupation
Personal Servant to the King of the Lykaes. Which means he does whatever the hell his King wants him to do.
Skills/Equipment
James has never had a reason to wield a weapon, so he has no training in any art, apart from the art of fleeing.
Personality
James is a hard working lad. He does his best, and he always strives to make his best better. He is rather quiet, even when he was in the human world he didnāt have many friends because heās always been just a little different, not to mention a little shy. He isnāt an angry person though, heās tried to overcome that emotion, because he doesnāt like feeling lost in anger. He is very free with his emotions, despite being shy. His face is an open book, and his emotions scroll across it lazily. Heās also extremely loyal to those heās in a relationship with, friends, his mother; he even loves his father, though the man refuses to have anything to do with him.
James is also a bit awkward around people in general; heās not always entirely sure how to act, so he often falls into his dutiful servant mode, quiet and attentive. Heās also honest, but he usually keeps his mouth shut unless spoken to directly. Heās not one to share his opinion without causation. Though he isnāt much of a conversationalist, he likes being around others, it makes him feel moreā¦.real. Like he has meaning. Heās always had problems with self validation, part of the reason he works so hard. That and because he likes feeling productive. Heās a hard worker by nature. He doesnāt like accepting help, because he doesnāt feel that its right, but he would jump to help another. He often puts aside his own needs for those of others, even those who he doesnāt know very well.
When he works, James puts himself fully into what heās doing. One might say that though he was a will to live heās willing to give up living to merely keep existing. His life has fallen into a mindless tedium over the last years as the Kingās servant. But he is a devoted servant all the same. Not exactly to the Lykae king, but to being a servant itself, because it is all he has to live for. What he lacks in strength he makes up in endurance, and what he lacks in power he makes up in determination, and what he lacks in muscle he makes up in sacrifice. He is selfless because it is his duty.
History
James was born to a single human mother, a woman names Marissa, who, at age eighteen, was not ready to have a child. Her parents were understanding, however, and babysat the child while Marissa tried to make it through college. She loved her baby, as did her parents, but she was thankful the kid looked more like her than her boyfriend, whoād disappeared a little under six months before the child was born. Heād been an elusive man, tall and dark, but heād loved her. She couldnāt understand why he would just vanish like that, not a trace left but the child, whom she named James.
James grew up like any normal kid, though his growth appeared rather stunted, since Lykaes donāt age the same way humans do, and James was half Lykae. Eventually Marissa realized that her child was not completely normal. She didnāt tell James until he was eight years old, however. That was when they started moving around, so Marissa could hide her āmutantā son from curious neighbors. She couldnāt believe that something so strange could even happen. It was like they were out of some stupid teen novel or something. But she still loved James and still took care of the boy, because he was her child and it was all she could do.
As James grew older, he acted like a normal human, and learned to control his temper after the councilor at his school prescribed anger management classes for the boy, who was sporadically aggressive, as if he had no control over the mood swings. He was a mild tempered child, but competitive. He competed in sports, and though he was small he was stronger than one might think.
he grew up further, and left the school setting after about twenty five years of pretending to be of that age, and spent the next fifteen years helping his mother, who was aging so quickly, more quickly than James could stand, scratch out a living. He was a hard worker, and he made sure his mother was always well taken care of, even when her lungs began to fill up with fluids and she eventually died at the age of sixty as her lungs failed. James was heart-broken. His father, however, who was on Earth at the time, had been trying to find Marissa, and found him instead. Confused and slightly disgusted by the small human who claimed to be his son, the Lykae took the boy in. He couldnāt stand it though. The child was too much of a human, a disgrace.
Jamesās father, a man of high standing, sent James away to the Kingās court in the hopes that it would either make him a better Lykae or kill him. No such luck. The scrawny boy, through hard work, successfully climbed all the way up to being the personal servant to the king. Perhaps not a very great success, but it was something.
Other
James, while very stoic and quiet, can crack. Do not insult his mother, or all his pent up aggression is most likely to explode. Along with his cranium, most likely.
Also, James doesn't know how to read. he did, once upon a time, but his skill fell into disrepair over the ages.
Post
James wasnāt one for fretting. Well, unless he had cause to, and he certainly did tonight. But there were positives and negatives to his Majestyās absence; he often took the time to do a more thorough cleaning of the Kingās quarters while the lykae was gone. It didnāt exactly worry James that he was gone, what got to him was wondering what would happen when his Majesty came back. The King had taken to disappearing into the human world at odd hours, and it seemed his only goal was to create a bit of chaos before returning home and making another mess for James to clean up. Which was very tiresome. James hadnāt thought of the dull repetition his life had become in a long time, however, it was easier not to think about it.
It was debatable whether James managed more sleep when the king was home or when he wasnāt. When his Majesty was around, James was on edge just in case the lykae needed something. When he wasnāt, James was on edge for the moment heād return. Dreading it, in a sense. Because it seemed that his Majestyās favorite pastime was causing his servant grief. And James knew he had to take it, because what else was there for him to do? The lad tugged a hand through his hair as he examined the kingās quarters, making sure everything was straight.
Deeming his work satisfactory, he trod carefully back to his own quarters. He didnāt think anyone would be awake at this time of night, but he didnāt want to chance being caught. He didnāt want to have to tell anyone that heād been cleaning up the Kingās quarters, because then heād have to tell that the King was currently out. Though his Majesty had never said anything specific, James had decided it was in his best interest to keep his nighttime wanders to himself. If his Majesty desired to tell anyone, surely heād do it himself. And the boy had a strange feeling that his Majesty wouldnāt be pleased if he told anyone anyway. It was always a good idea to circumvent any unnecessary punishment, as much as he could. Even if his Majestyās reasons were the most inane, James tried his best to follow all the rules, spoken and unspoken, his Majesty laid down.
Once he made it to his solitary quarters, he was apart from the other servants partially because if he was required for some inane reason in the middle of the nightāwhen his Majesty was actually homeāit wouldnāt do to wake the others. Not to mention that when heād been lower in the system the others had thrown him about quite a bit because he could not do anything in retaliation because he was too small. A runt, if you will. But he was mostly left alone now; nobody would dare touch his Majestyās servant. Of course, they werenāt jealous of him, everyone knew that serving the king was not a desirable task. Why James had ever fathomed that pulling himself up to being the personal servant was a good idea he couldnāt figure out. Maybe it was just because he couldnāt help himself. If there was work to be done he had to do it. It was a compulsion.
James stripped and changed into a cleaner outfit before sitting down on his bed and staring at his hands for a moment. They were worn; they spoke of someone who worked through pain until the pain could not be felt anymore. The only problem was that the pain seemed to get worse as time went on. Not the physical pain, but the feeling that something was missing. He missed being a human. Doing the things the human way. He tried not to think about it though, because those thoughts were bad thoughts. Treasonous, for one thing, and they only made him even unhappier. Sometimes it was better just not to think at all.
After a moment James produced a piece of paper from where heād hidden it and held it taut between his hands. He stared at the marks on it, trying to decipher them, a daily task for him. It was a letter from his father, the first one heād ever received, and it had been nearly a month since heād gotten it. And he couldnāt read it. He could see the letters, and he knew what the letters where, but he couldnāt remember how they went together. Heād found his name among the lines, more than once, and he could pick out a few words, but none of it meant anything to him and it hurt. Heād only talked to his father a grand total of two times before he found himself a servant to the king, and he did want to know the man. He didnāt want to be such a disappointment. But obviously it wasnāt to be.
Oh well.