28-09-2019, 05:15 PM
In Game Name (IGN):
YamushuHow did you find us?
I was looking for a whitelisted roleplay Minecraft server, and a Reddit forum pointed me in the right direction.
About You:
Hello there! I’m Yam/Yamu, a thirteen female year old who has been roleplaying since I was about eleven. I’m a prolific drawer and roleplay often on a site called Quotev, and have made many fantasy-based characters.
Name:
Xylen Viperis
Age:
Twenty-nine.
Gender:
Male.
Appearance:
Long, overgrown black hair that’s tied into a ponytail. Right eye green, left eye brown. Pale skin. Well muscled, rounded features, shark-like smile.
Personality:
The one annoying thing that gets people to stray away from Xylen is he’s defiant. He won’t listen to anything you say, and he certainly won’t follow orders. He loathes authoritative figures with a burning passion, and even more so having to do something that won’t benefit him. His stubbornness can be his downfall, which often leads to him doing things in a way more difficult manner than they could’ve been done. This defiance sparked in childhood, and will continue to prevail. It makes it hard for Xylen to keep jobs due to this tendency.
Even if he has done some bad things in the past, he’s trying to redeem himself. The male will not hesitate to jump in to attempt to assist someone in need, or run headfirst into a battle with a dusk feind wearing only a heroic pair of pajama pants wielding a kitchen knife. While if he did do this, the chances would be that he would die, but it still stands to show how reckless he is. Xylen prefers the adrenaline rush he gets from teasing the Grim Reaper, and when he’s not in the best of moods, will often do something dangerous to “cheer up.”
Despite his best efforts to be friendly, he still unintentionally scares people away. His cold stare makes him practically unapproachable. Not to mention, he distrusts those who come up to him first. He grew up on the streets, and when someone talked to you there… they usually wanted something. Old habits die hard.
Backstory:
Xylen grew up in the Naja Empire, a vast country full of crime and poverty. He wasn’t just any serf boy on the streets, however, he was one of King Aethul’s many illegitimate children. His father, Aethul, has a tendency to screw any woman without care for his marriage with Queen Lana the III. It isn’t a rare sight to see disowned descendants on the streets, nor are they hard to spot. The telltale black hair and the heterochromic green and brown eyes practically scream, “royal blood!”
Despite the dangers of the streets, his father simply threw Xylen’s mother, Cecilia, who-- unbeknownst to him, is bearing another bastard-- back on the streets. Back to the slums, to be exact. Xylen resents his dad for doing such a thing. He could have lived in luxury, but instead he was never given the chance. At six, he learnt of this fact, and that caused a fury to build inside of him. All of a sudden, he couldn’t stand any authoritative figures. He snapped against teachers, fought against Cecilia’s countless boyfriends, revolted when anyone gave him an order. Stubbornness made him refuse to do anything. Unless, of course, it benefited him.
While Xylen was being a fussy brat, Cecilia had to work to support herself. Her voluptuous build had not been ruined by her pregnancy, which made brothels the perfect place to work. She had to do what she could to support her and Xylen.
She never once thought of the effect it had on the little boy over years and years. He made note of every bruise that appeared on her once perfect skin, every cut, every scratch. Despair seemed to follow her everywhere, and Xylen’s anger started to fester. He searched for a scapegoat, and he started to blame his manwhore of a father for letting them live like this. For dropping responsibility and pretending like this whole kingdom wasn’t falling apart and instead relishing in exotic food, lavish armchairs, and countless partners for pleasure. While he was growing up, he made sure to try to stay on the right path, vowing to never end up a spoiled rich scandal like his father.
When revolutions spread like a virus through each major kingdom and empire, Xylen was practically oblivious. He was only three when the first wars broke out, and while people were shedding blood for the first half of the war, Xylen was learning his ABC’s and basic social skills. Only when he was an adolescent did he realize what was truly going on, (around 13, 14) and despite his urgency to go fight against his father's rule, he couldn’t.
As his mother was pregnant.
With his mother unable to work, Xylen had to resort to desperate measures to keep both of them alive and well. He had to turn to theivery, as most others did. Jobs were scarce, and the war simply raised prices for most foods. Living was tough even before the war, and now? It was even harsher.
Even though Xylen had no experience thieving, he has the blood of the Viperis family in his veins. A royal bloodline, yes, but a bloodline who took the throne adroitly. His ancestors manipulated, they backstabbed, they stole and blackmailed. All for that spot on the throne. He was sly by nature, and stealing from vendors couldn’t be too difficult.
He swiped up anything he could get his hands on. Food, jewelry, weapons. Anything was fair game. Some might call him talented, others would call him a hooligan. He spent months doing this, successes outweighing the failure. Xylen started to grow arrogant.
And that arrogance made him stupid.
One day, a group of merchants moved into town. They carried wonderful goods, from shiny jewels, watches, to dried meats and fruits. The group of three looked harmless, two lanky looking males and one female. They couldn’t run as fast as him, Xylen thought. So, he attempted to steal their exotic goods.
That was one of the worst mistakes of his life.
The merchants were actually apart of T.W.O, an organized crime group, who killed, raped and stole whenever they saw fit. It was a group of psychopaths. And Xylen, at fifteen years old, tried to steal from them.
He was caught with ease. He should’ve been killed right then and there, but for once, his genetics did something good for him. T.W.O thought they had really got something, a heir! A prince! They’d earn a lot of ransom, they thought. But, Xylen wasn’t worth anything. His father could care less about him.
So, Xylen spun his web of lies.
How he was an escaped prince, who was looking to join an organization that could train him to become stronger. So he can kill his father. In exchange, he promised T.W.O control over the kingdom. It was the only way fifteen year old Xylen thought he could survive.
That was the second biggest mistake he made in the span of five minutes.
He didn’t know what joining them entailed. The World’s Ours training system was harsh, and truly survival of the fittest. Trainees were pitted up against eachother, told to torn out eachothers throat while spectators laughed with glee. That’s how he learnt to fight. Not in fair matches, but in matches where it was life or death.
Xylen just adapted. He swallowed it and adapted, desperately clinging onto his empathy as he fought with countless others in an act of self preservation. In a way, this was his karma. After all, he was just as greedy as he father by stealing, and that fact still disgusts him. When his lies started to run out, Xylen knew he had to escape. He had become one of their “champions,” and soon he’d be sent in missions. Killing people who were trying to kill you was one thing, but killing innocents?
He knew he had to escape.
So, Xylen fled. He got on a voyage to the Forbidden Lands, leaving behind the mainland and praying that his past won’t follow him.
Capabilities:
STEALTH - Basic
While he only spent eight or so months stealing from the streets, the practical mafia he got kidnapped into forced him to further develop those skills. For a couple years, he was expected to be able to break locks and steal effeciently. Plus, did you think he spent those 16 years in that organization sitting in his room all day? He eavesdropped whenever he could, which further advanced his stealth.
COMBAT - Proficient
He’s better with melee than he is ranged. He prefers knives, and his fighting style is rather dirty. He’ll do what he can to win the fight if he thinks his life is in danger. After all, that’s how it worked down in those terrible arenas for all of those years. It was win, or die.
Items:
A few gold coins, various jewelry for trading, (silver bracelets, rings, and a few necklaces) and an extra pair of clothes.
