Weston Kale
Nicknames: West
Age: 25
Role: Waterbird Pilot
Appearance:
A tall and limber looking man with the height of 6,3. Although it would seem that the height is balanced out by his slender frame, definitely not meant for taking physical blows. His eyes are calm sea-green color, although of late the brilliance of the color seems to be diminished by the bags under his eyes. His tried appearance has taken a toll on the rest of his body as well, once feathery shoulder length hair is often a ruffled mess or just tangled in general from his hands constantly messing with it. A few scars mare his fragile body, concentrating mostly on his hands, although a fresh looking one on his chest seems a few years younger than the others. The scar on his chest is about an inch wide and three inches long ending just above his heart, whatever caused the scar was lucky enough not to pierce the organ. Still, it seems that the man on some days wishes that it did. Surprisingly well-dressed for sailor as if he was going to perform at a party rather than be aboard a ship for months on end. Prefers wearing a crisp white shirt with a black vest over with, although the vest not just for fashion, below the initial soft material is a leather covering to provide some protection. Dressed in black trousers and boots it makes the outfit a bit more seaworthy. Around his neck is a red or black ribbon tied in a light bow, strange…but it reminds him of someone. It seems old burn marks line the hardy fabric as if it was being used as an ash tray..or perhaps it was failed attempts of letting go.
Personality: Has a sullen and serious aura about him most of the time. To say that this man is impatient when dealing with others would be an understatement, were it not for his mission it could be very possible this man would of became a recluse. Thankfully his position on the ship grants him the quiet atmosphere he truly desires, that is unless having to get a new heading or orders from his commanding officers. The only time the serious attitude seems to fade away is when he gets the chance to play his beloved violin..or when he goes back to happier times. Loyal to his employer till his commission ends nothing can stop him from following orders. Tight-lipped as he is it seems that people find him to be a good listener and trust-worthy with secrets. This has resulted with him being the sort of shrink..unofficially of course.
Likes:
Fine Wine
Music
Quiet
Violins
Cigarettes
Dislikes:
Gambling
Pirates
Loud atmospheres
Heavy Liquor
Drunks
Skills: Is a skilled musician with his specially being violins. Despite his passion for music, it would not be enough for him to own a sustainable living. Yet still he plays on in hopes of keeping his own hopes alive. In terms of combat has become a proficient gunner, never seen without two flintlock pistols in his belt. For up-close combat his chosen weapon is a rapier due to it being light and mobile enough for movement. It may not cause heavy wounds, but it is good enough to defend himself with.
Weaknesses: Struggles with seasickness that he has never really managed to get over despite all his years at sea. His addiction to smoking can make him a bit irritable if he has not smoked before talking…or he just hates people either one works. Can be a bit shy around women. Is extremely incompetent when it comes to keeping his own time schedule.
Fears:
Open flames
Drunken brawls
Never reconciling with his fiancé.
History: The only son of a traveling musician and his wife, It was a poor, but happy childhood. His own father passed down the violin that had been in the family for generations starting at his great-grandfather's hands. Determined to keep the family trade alive Weston often joined his father when performing in inns and pubs. The family of three spent much of their time traveling from each little village to bigger towns just scraping by. His first encounter with sailors was drunken brawl in which he was struck in the back of the head with a pint of beer. Needless to say he began avoiding the rowdy pubs..despite that being the place where he made most of his income. Years later at the age of eighteen he came upon a humble but quant looking pub with only his stomach on his mind. His stomach however was quickly aside by his heart as he was doused with beer..and when he managed to clear the foam out of his eyes…love. With stuttering confidence he began to court the lovely daughter of the pub owner, enchanting her with words only music could explain. Despite the sweet-nature of the girl he found it difficult to express his true feeling for her….within a few months he found himself asking for her hand in marriage. Shocked, at her acceptance he sheepishly admitted that he did not have much in terms of wealth, but would do everything in his power to provide a healthy and happy home for his beloved. His fiancé's parents knew better that even a happy home had to eat in order to truly be happy. Thus his career on the high seas began..much to the distaste of his stomach. His brief leaves on shore were happy when he was with his beloved and her welcoming family.
All of that changed the day of his wedding. Late to his own wedding due to payment to debtors which were none to caring about if he was late. Besides he had his whole life to be with this woman what would being an hour late matter? It did in fact as came upon a massacre..bloodstained his bride as she held her father's corpse in her arms. Why would someone do such a thing? His heart seemed to break into two as his weeping bride rejected him and sent him away. His mind told him that nothing could heal the deep scars that were now carved into his fiancé's heart.Determined to eventually return with enough money to provide his love everything she wished, he left the ashes of that humble pub. Yet when he returned a year later with a deed to a small plot of land, his love had departed for the sea herself. A small spark of hope appeared in soul..had the woman gone to look for him? That hope was dashed as the following year he found her nearly becoming a drunken ..... , in the company of rowdy men. When asking for an explanation, the scar on his chest was the answer as once again his bird flew the coop. The pain, anger, and..dare he guess love in her eyes still gleamed in her eyes as she fled from his sight. Nearly giving up on the hopeless adventure, he remained on land as a musician becoming more sullen as the months went by..that is until a rumor of a ship setting after pirates came about. Immediately jumping at the chance to find his mourning songbird he signed up on the Waterbird with hope that this would be the final time she ran from him.
Other: N/A
"spontaneous combustion"