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Deceased Aleksandar

Solus

object oriented
Staff member
Admin
Retired Owner
Aleksandar Josef Kane. Alek. Xander.
Meaning of Aleksandar: Defender of mankind
Meaning of Josef: God will increase

Solusrequiem's Alt character played on [GrumpyNam]
He won't be too active, but will hop in if some storyline is needed.


Age: 45
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Current Residence: The sea
Relationship Status: Single
Social Status: Captain


Physical Appearance
Height: 5’11
Weight: Medium
Eye Color: Green - Flickers Red when emotional
Skin Color: His complexion is pale with a freckle here or there. Fair with a few sun blisters.
Distinguishing Features: His eyebrows and the circles beneath his hollow eyes.
Hair Color: Dark brown with salt and pepper streaks. Half-shaven beard
Hair Style: Ruffled, wavy
Posture: Slouched. Comfortable.
Is Seen By Others As: Cold, Distant, Amiable, Indiffierent
Scars:
+A cut on his left hand.
+Three scar lines across his chest, one that looks more wider in the middle. Flesh burns around those wounds.
+Large scratch scars crusted by a wound to the shoulder.
+Claw marks across his face
+Remnants of frost burns here and there


Personality
Strengths: Courage | Eager | Disarming
Weaknesses: Envy | Guilt | Anger | Pride

Fears:
+Ambition consuming him into blindness
+Natural Illnesses
+The dark
+Shadows
+Confinement
+The Gaze

Values:
+His life
+Allies


Education
+Taught by his mother, Alison Kane, on scholarly languages, history and writing
+Taught by Inquisitor Aleksei of Ignis
+Practiced swordplay and hunting from a young age from Brennard in his early years, then by himself as he grew older
+Seafarer's education


Languages: Common, Lavoyard, Rede
General Attitude: Cold and Calculating. Amiable.
Religious Inclination: Years of neglect have turned him away from religion
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral.


1601438941819.png
Possessions
Attire: A dark grey coat. White tunic underneath- dirtied. Brown trousers. Red belt. Black cloak.
The Sea King: Personal ship
The Sea King's Mistress - A large carrack to fit a crew
A treasure chest full of trinkets he's gathered along the way


Jewelry:
+His father’s wedding ring (worn) (stolen)
+His mother's wedding ring [x] (worn) (stolen)
+The Kane's Royal Crown [x] (Stowed)
+An Onyx Goblet (Stowed)
+A plain silver ring (worn)
Pets/Animals: N/A
Owned Homes: N/A

Inventory:
+Traveler's Kit (Dry food, flint/steel, compass, Map of the continent)
+Canteen
+Treasure chest of trinkets

Health
Illnesses:
+Depression
+Disassociation
Allergies:
+​
Injuries:
+​

Combat
Peaceful or violent: Seeks violence of some form when crossed.

Weaponry
+Two daggers
+A cutlass
+A pole-axe (won in a harvest festival)


Combat Training
+Swordplay ~Intermediate
+Archery - Basic


Training & Skills
Making Traps - ?/10
Fencing - 4/10
Hunting Game - 5/10
[x] Bird
[x] Rabbit
[x] Skyrat
[x] Fox
[x] Deer
[ ] Elk
[ ] Boar
[ ] Bear
[ ] Wendigo


Short Term Goals
+ ..

Long Term Goals
+ ...

Family
Alison Kane (mother) Elz
Edmund Hallon (father) [Deceased] Rygan
Elizabeth Kane (half-sister) Niah
Charles Kane (half-brother) Lannis
Brennard Westmay (mother's husband) Mitch

Peter Hallon (grandfather) [Deceased] Cap
Elaine Hallon (grandmother) [?] Smurf
Niah Kane (grandmother) [Deceased] Niah
Alistair Kane (grandfather) [?] The Living Ghost
Arthur Hallon (uncle) Cap


96534
Elz

Recent Relations:

Slowly.. old faces fade. New faces come and go. There is no constant.

Candy - Blood
Ardaric - Colleague
Jorvun - Companion
Doggett - Reliable.
Katherine - Niece
Asher - Unravel
Eren - Warrior
Clement - Spark
Quill - Quiet
Lilly Citrine- Tranquility
Maebh - Fierce
Lana - Historian
Lono - Feathers
Eliss - Moor
Podric: Consistent.


===

Rowley: Fighter
Raalvara: Friend.
James Varyn: Different
Lisbet: Catalyst.
Alison: Mother
Elizabeth: Not gone.
Charles: Mismatched.
Olive: Bright Eye.
Leofaren: Healer.
Karsten: Cheerful

Jaden: Existed.
Reivos: Familiar
Joseph: Ranger
Otto: Otto.
Mace: Anger.
Aala - Sane
 
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Solus

object oriented
Staff member
Admin
Retired Owner
88160
100080

History
Aleksandar Josef Kane, was once a Hallon, a direct heir to Anhald and the Empire’s vast lands. But there brewed a tragic war between the members of his two bloodlines after his father’s death. He took the advice of his dear mother at the age of 10 and relinquished his title of Anhald, the name Hallon, and all that it held after the death of King Peter, his grandfather. He then carried the name “Kane” with pride. It is one of authority. He knows it keeps him protected from the outside world and the many noble families that have earned his mother’s trust and scorn. He also knows that both his surnames could be the cause of his death, even the one he seals in his pocket now, with a cracked confliction of guilt and shame. He often delves into the idea that he was unwanted because of the bloods that run through his veins and the conflict between an ancestry trying to linger and one that carries notoriety. Dark thoughts are not foreign to him in the secluded life he lived. He’s had many more, each varied.

A cold, young man, he had little say in the life he lived now. It was all dictated by his mother, Duchess Alison Kane, though he had no wish to disregard it -even as a young adult. The memories of his blood-father are faint, he was only 8 winters when he died, even then the man was distant. And his grandfather and grandmother are fainter, an old man and woman. His uncle, he would recall every now and then, Arthur Hallon, for he had threatened war between their families and fled as the man who stands beside his mother now, defended her. After being raised in Queensport while his half-siblings were born, he went on to live in Ironhaven for another eight years, a place he considers home. This is where most of his memories he recalls were bred from, the past being quite a blur of emotions. The stiff exteriors of the fort walls that shield him from the winter snow reflects his interactions and how he composes himself around others, regardless of who they were. There is little warmth in him, for he was not shown to share it with others, save for the affection and trust he does with his mother. His youthful self once praised and mentioned Ignis when he cared to speak, due to his scholarly teachings, but as he grew older, the heavy interest faded for swordplay and hunting. He does not expect much from others now, servants or noble, and knows they always seek him out with greedy eyes, looking for something in return for paying attention to him. The smiles on their faces were always false to him as they turned to sneers when they looked away. But he played the part, if that was what mother wanted. He loved her, as sons would. Despite her figuratively sending him down to a fort of nothingness by himself for most of his life while she raised another family, then granted him a title that truly bound him there in the last two years, some part of him believed it might be to protect him from those who hated the Hallon blood or the big choice he barely remembers. Though on the surface, he knows it is to learn how to lead in some capacity, having given up a more flourished lifestyle. In the last two years, he’s become a bit more familiar with his half-siblings as the whole family spent time in Ironhaven while Queensport was infested by gigantic Spider nests, but they kept their distance and he kept his. Most of his days were spent by his mother’s side. It was brief, but his demeanor remained respectable, being a new host. The family then left again, and he’d spend his days hunting in the woods around the walls- a sport he began to love. In recent months, Alison had sent his half-brother for company, to be taught swordplay. To his astonishment, the boy had grown, carrying around a hint of his mother and the guardsman. He reflected some of the care his mother gave him to the younger boy, albeit with an awkwardness about him every now and then.

Despite his relationship with his mother, he cannot bring himself to consider Brennard a step-father, not that he expected him to. He sees the man as selfish for swooping into his mother’s life under the pretense of being loyal to his deceased father, or so the kitchen servants whispered back in Queensport at the age of nine.. He used to find it odd and a great disservice, since he was friendly with Brennard at a young age and looked up to him with great regard. The man is by no means weak, Alek is cordial, but the feeling was not easy to leave. The man also took his mother’s love from Alek, enough to marry again and have two more children. Ones that were given far more attention than he, he thinks. But now he believes the guardsman cares for his mother and that she is protected around him- this is the extent of his consideration of Brennard. In this relationship, Alek is the one that keeps distance.

He used to care little for his half-siblings as he had not seen them for years, and they shared Brennard’s blood. But with recent familiarity with his half-brother, he has come to see him as one of his own that should probably be cared for. He does hold some resentment towards the two twins, how they live their lives with both a mother and a father dotting on them, and more, but he keeps it to himself. He is curious, now, of the prospective of caring for more than just his mother and wonders if it’s possible.



Personal Philosophy:
+Nobility is filled with backstabbers as much as the grieving poor who do it to survive their daily lives. Even families of blood will choose to turn on you, public or secret, for power and control.
+The allure of power is only as satisfying if there is something or someone to share it with. Otherwise, you are left with an empty castle and an empty heart.
+Do not stay your anger. Let it release upon those that have hurt you.
+You are merely a man- and a god or the gods will not look to aid you. Fend for yourself. No one else will.
+Magic is only as useful as the sanity of its user.
+Give respect where respect is given.
+Trust should not be assumed. It should be earned.
+Do not let anyone control your actions and decisions. Allow influence at best. Do as you desire to do.
+Do not bow to assumed glory and power. Maybe mock them instead.


Memories
The years he is in Ironhaven are blurry, but when he recalls his past, a few things are envisioned:

+He distant profile of his father and mother
+Throwing tantrums as a child when his mother left him alone for long periods of time
+Smiling to his mother near a fireplace as she taught him Rede
+Brennard giving him his first crossbow and teaching him swordsmanship
+Being taught lessons of Ignis from Lord Inquisitor Aleksei
+Father’s death
+Nobles babbling about war in Queensport
+His mother trying to convince him to relinquish his title as Emperor of Anhald and break the authority he had over the lands at the age of 10. His head bobbing in forlorn agreement.
+Looking out of his bedroom window in Ironhaven one windy night, seeing the reflection of hungry eyes from a wendigo.
+Pretending he was an Emperor on a balcony in Ironhaven after a heavy snowstorm. At the age of 13- he waved to a crowd of snow-people below him, making a speech. it was amusing to him. A servant girl walked out with a tray of tea, catching him in the act, and he lashed out at her enough to scare her away and shatter the teacups. His face red with anger, his hands cut from hiding evidence of the encounter
+His first hunt and the taste of it
+His mother telling him he was now “Earl of Ironhaven”
+A swarm of spiders attacking peasants in Queensport
+Days spent hunting in Ironhaven

(Memories from when I actually start playing him)
+Elizabeth's visit after the ball
+War is hell
+Fight with the Grape King
+Discord with Alison
+Alison's goodbye
+Picking up pieces
+Leaving
+On his own
+Can no longer be on his own, safety compromised
+Finds his way to the 'Beacon of Plague hope' that is Linlea. Exists among the crowds.
+Meeting half-siblings again after months ... that happened.
+Bald haired Caparii gives white lies and shows off magic.
+Elizabeth talks to him. Some third party issues are involved.
+Confirmation of Alison’s ghostly return.
+Lady Varyn becomes a bit too friendly.
+James Varyn is a complicated ass. Outburst.
+They reconcile their differences and promise to meet again. Time passes and their meeting turns sour once more.
+Meeting with his mother and traveling to Blackfall
+Card games with Tania, Lisbet, James, Raal and others back in Linlea
+Spends some more time in the tavern there. Another round of gambling with those mentioned before. Although he finally won his coin back, it didn't really end the day on a good note.
+Feels distance is proper with Lisbet, but decides they could be friends if gossip was out of the conversations. Manages to kickoff with his job.
+Walks Lisbet home, but realizes she stays with the twins. Decides he should finally talk to Elizabeth. Charles is home. They converse briefly.
+Lisbet's upset- talks
+Spends some talks with Tania and walks her home during a storm, too. Nightmares seem a heavy thing.
+On and off business and being more friendly with Lisbet. Figures out there's a problem with Varyn and his siblings.
+Time passes and he decides to join the last expedition to keep an eye on the three. Ends up getting injured by a worm in the chest among stab wounds, carrying scars of skyrats, looting a few books and an onyx goblet on his way out.
+Feverish in the Queensport Tavern.
+Night of festivities. Enjoys drinking with Elizabeth and Charles, meeting people, and spending time with Lisbet.
+Leofaren takes extra care in healing him- using much of his thread. He's less sickly.
+Healing. Misunderstands his relations in a drunken haze as he finds himself in his old room at the Palace. Cold. Promptly leaves after a meal invitation by Elizabeth.
+Tavern again. Packs up to go after farewells to Lisbet.
+Arrives in Storm's Landing for a time.
+Speaks with Lisbet here and Sanardu. Her words seem to push him to try better. And he assumes to understand what she's looking for.
+Has work around Queensport, though finds it difficult to be here again. Meets new people, whom he finds he can be friendly with.
+Speaks with Elizabeth and learns some things.
+Sorts some things out with Elizabeth, Lisbet. And to a more smaller end- Charles.
+ STUFF. ..
+Vanished.
 
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Paint

Lord of Altera
Frosty
Retired Staff
ShadowAdmin
ShadowAdmin
Frosty


aleksander's coming for us all!

(love the profile thought! :heart:)
Loved just for the gif.

I've been reading IT and its awesome.

Edit: I JUST NOTICED THE REFERENCES
 

Rygan

Deathblade
Evil
Rygan_Deathblade
Rygan_Deathblade
Evil
I don't know how to break it to you but your name is actually Aleksandar.
 

Rygan

Deathblade
Evil
Rygan_Deathblade
Rygan_Deathblade
Evil
I like it but don't think cripplingly low iron will let you escape from having to live up to being a cool dude....
 

Solus

object oriented
Staff member
Admin
Retired Owner
Added some additions in sight of things- He's not available at the moment, but he seems to at least be mentally prepared for things to occur or take turns.
 

Solus

object oriented
Staff member
Admin
Retired Owner
Changed some things.

I'll admit, there were some ooc motivations as a server owner that I didn't want to be involved in war again. And there's already some on main character's region around that is enough and ok to handle. Because in the end, I have to moderate it all and it drains some fun of things for me. I'm sorry to folks I rp with, but it's now reflected in Alek's sickness of it along with the buildup that caused it.
 

Solus

object oriented
Staff member
Admin
Retired Owner
1527719247740.png
1527719196849.jpg

Greying rag in hand, his hand slowly polished an object on his lap, milky white and yellow. Knuckles bruised with drying cuts, his eyes glazed over as he squinted into the horizon as dawn began in hues of oranges, blues and purples. He lamented, then, the cold wind brushing against his form. A crease formed on his forehead - underneath the clumps of his dark un-cut hair. But it was brief and the spring air settled as it turned to warmth.

The grassland before him began to lighten against the rays of the sun and he blinked out of his reverie. The rag was tossed aside onto a cluster of its relatives and he laid the polished object upon a rock. He stood, brushing the dust from his back. His tunic and trousers were done and dusted and soles on his feet ached for a change of setting, but he began picking up straps and belts to fasten against the rest of his body, pocketing essentials. A small camp lay about him, with a fire all died out. A tent rested behind him, where he had sat. A few belongings lingered here and there- wooden pot, cup, a makeshift stick spoon.. His eyes followed them all, as he cleaned up, burying them in the tent so no creature would stumble upon it. His head lifted, listening for any noise of scrambling feet.

Finally prepared, he’d pluck the object on the rock and lift it towards his head. The hallowed skull of a fox fit nicely, its jaw was removed for him to breathe beneath it. Green eyes eerily peered out from the sockets and he smiled a crooked smile at his new found toy. Strapping a crossbow and quiver of arrows behind him, he picked up a propped spear, freshly sharpened the night before. He licked his lips, eager for a meal.

He stepped forward, but paused, and rerouted, spear still in hand, circling the small clearing. “Where are my manners,” he spoke. The large trees loomed above after a few moments and he stood before one of the leafier ones. “Kept the clearing safe?” He murmured, his voice husky from lack of wear. He tapped the end of the spear against the tree and gave a mock bow towards it. “Elizabeth.” Silence responded as the branches swayed above. He continued on, his spear ready to tap against a similar tree to the first, more stockier- but on the opposite side of the clearing. “Charles”.. Another mock bow was given, and he straightened. “Good of you, both… Stiff as usual. Growing well, at least, hm?” He’d remark, and gaze back up at the sky. Light spilled between his fingers, his palm growing warm. Two rings rested against each other, sparkling a few times. He’d stare at them with some semblance, then lowered his hand from blocking the sun, alert, lifting his head sharply. ..A creature crooned in the distance.

He tread, then, slipping passed the large trees about, his eyes and senses becoming more aware of the woods around his campsite. He began a familiar rhythm. A hunt.
 
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