Description
5' 11" tall. Eyes: Blue. Hair: Brown. 176lbs. Average build. Hair is kept short with a bit of stubble on the chin. Cuts and scrapes are numerous, but only 2 permanent scars. One on his right upper forearm (3rd degree burn, about 3 inches long) the other just above his collar bone on the right (laceration).
(Combat type character. Well versed in close range fighting, from ancient swordplay to modern urban warfare, depending on what story he's involved in.)
Someday, I am going to make some drawings >.>
Personality
Sivan is extremely well mannered, regardless of the situation. While he truly means the best, it can sometimes get on the nerves of those around him. He normally keeps to himself, and rarely interjects himself into a conversation unless he's specifically addressed.
He deals with demons, as do we all. Several ironic happenings in his life have made things hard, but as long as he keeps focused, the people he meets won't ever have to find out about his inner demons.
Equipment
Casual wear: Depends on era/setting, but a 'modern/realistic' set of clothes would be a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled halfway up, tan undershirt, worn blue jeans, and tan military boots. Accessories would be things like a wallet chain, small framed sunglasses, and a leather strapped wristwatch.
Combat wear: Depends on era, but it's normally a lightweight set of equipment that offers little protection in exchange for good mobility and quiet movement. A modern example would be a normal military combat uniform and tactical vest, but no additional padding such as neck guards or shoulder protectors.
His arsenal always consists of close range weaponry. A 'modern/realistic' example would be a shotgun and pistol.
History
Sivan does not talk about his life before he was a mercenary. His upbringing, his family, friends, etc are somewhat of a mystery to the people around him, and would only be divulged with someone Sivan feels very comfortable with.
Sivan's friendly demeanor is mostly a facade. The mercenary force he worked for (regardless of setting) paid him well enough to keep his mind off of the terrible things he had to do.
Now this next part changes depending on the story:
Sivan was born to parents of 'X' nationality who were missionaries in an unreceptive culture 'Y'. His parents were killed in 'Z' conflict and Sivan was adopted by people from culture 'Y' who eventually contacted relatives of his birth parents and had him returned to the nation 'X' at a young age. Sivan is home-schooled in nation 'X' and joins a mercenary group that works for 'X's government doing illegal contracts, normally the inhumane killing of people from culture 'Y'.
If I lost you in that mess of variables...basically Sivan worked for a mercenary group that takes contracts killing the same culture of people that raised him. After he finds out about this, he falls into a state of depression and quits the mercenary unit, usually about 1 year before the beginning of whatever story he's dropped into.
So begins...
Alighieri cackled with the roar of a thousand dying races, a terrifying scream which echoed into the depths of the void.
The expanse of the void was endless, and he just wanted a beer, anything good and strong, and it didnt just matrialise out of nothing. So how to get out of the endless expanse of a rather beautiful endless flower meadow was actually rather nice. It was not often he got to really just wander a flower meadow, and as beautiful as it was, there had to be a door or a window or something.
Finally finding what looked like a door frame, with no visible door per sei, he tried going through it, like it was a opening in a fence, and promptly smacked into a door panel with a hard thud. The dragon saw he couldnt fit through the door but it was infact a door. Dust was on the ground among the beautiful flowers but he felt he should not disturb the dust, it was after all possible that someone had distributed family ashes there. And just being there made the dragon shift form to his human asize and get to his knees, bowing three times towards a nearby small pile of void dust before getting to his feet.
Turning back to the door frame he found the4 handle. But something made him halt. Where there others looking for the door that he had just found ?
Kragum stopped in his tracks as Fesna's wail reached him, a chill brushing over his skin. He picked up the pace, and this time it was Kragum's turn to go in for a hug.
Fesna embraced him back and began to weep. She wasn't ready to die! She had things to do, places to see! Remorse for wasted time hit Fesna like a ton of bricks.
“
Fesna.....hey, Fesna? Fesna!
....look over there?
”
Fesna gave a final pitiful sob, wiped her nose on Kragum's shoulder, and looked to where he was pointing.
There was a door, and it was closing.
She didn't even think twice grabbing Kragum's hand and barreling for the door.
Kragum let himself be dragged through the flowers, matching her speed and excitement. When they reached the door it had just clicked shut. Breathing hard, he bent over to catch up on air, and noticed a bunch of strange dust on the ground. That, too, unsettled him.
Kragum gave Fesna a hard nod, and tried for the door. To both of their surprise it was unlocked!
Fesna grabbed Kragum's face, gave him a hard smooch, and pulled him through the door.
Shael blinked, and he found himself somewhere he did not expect. His memory was fuzzy as if he had awoken from a half-remembered dream.
“Hello?” He called out to the emptiness. “I’m afraid I’m a bit lost, and I don’t remember how I got here.”
A tall skeletal figure wandered the void. Zal’hagun scanned the impenetrable darkness with fleshless eyes that glowed with necromantic energy. His ancient robes, worn and tattered yet still bearing an air of nobility, flowed behind him.
“Well…” He hissed into the nothingness. “This is… problematic.”
Leon dropped his shot glass and reached for his revolver. How did he get here? He listened carefully for any sound in the pervasive darkness. His teeth clenched in frustration.
“I don’t have time for this. Need to find a way out…”
“
Well, this was interesting. One moment he was taking a bath in the kitchen sink, of course it was more him trying to wash the dishes in the sink and ended upo taking a bath anyway. And then kapoof, he was in a flower meadow. But he still had his scrub brush and his collar so he wasnt naked. that in and of itself was a good thing. For the moment
”
Elanna Torres opened her eyes after what seemed like an eternity. She didn't remember how she got here, and she didn't seem to know where she was at, drifting in an infinite void. She ran her hands on her body, the polished leather of her sam browne, and the sleek casing of her disruptor. She reached into a leather pouch, and clicked on a small LED flashlight, shining it into the void.
Heralding Rymesis examined the Void Dust carefully. He's run across it before...but her looked around at the vast emptiness. He knew not where he was, but remembered where he should have been. After many a millennia, there would not be a soul that could transport him without his will. So he was a bit expected, despite his old bones and indifference towards certain adventurous proclivities.
"Well, I suppose Gambit's is no more." For that is the last thing he remembers.
He knew it was time to have a little fun. The divine nature of him being where he was certainly screamed 'higher power'. So, He was sure that meant there were new places to explore and to people to help. Or at the very least, new worlds to explore and pupils to be had. Explorers always came a knocking whenever he stayed anywhere too long.
"Oh Ho! Time to move it!" Heralding exclaimed.