Post by Sands on May 24, 2005 18:20:10 GMT -5
(This is Thanatos trying out a secondary character--I'm hoping to create something radically different from everyone's favorite neighborhood android. I'd like to apologize for starting my account before the secondary characters deadline, but I couldn't wait any longer. Those that submitted applications will receive their results in three to four more days. The screening process will not be necessary for these new characters.)
Name: Sands
Sex: Male
Age: 24
Weapons: Six-shot rifle, twelve-shot pistol, and a survival knife. Sands' rifle is a primtive, standard-issue model that is given to most soldiers serving on the First Continent. His pistol, on the other hand, is a firearm salvaged from ancient technological ruins--it is a truly beautiful weapon, intended to last for hundreds of years in perfect firing condition. Interestingly enough, Sands much prefers his rifle.
Home: Black Village
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 148 lbs.
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Dark brown, medium length
Skin: Light, somewhat tan due to prolonged exposure to the sun
Clothing: Sands is most often found garbed in the comfortable brownish-gray tunic and pants of the First Continent's peasantry, donning a simple robe as weather permits.
Equipment: Canteen, rations, bedroll, lighter, and the materials necessary to roll several dozen cigarettes. The lighter is an ancient momento, and obviously a relic recovered from ruins of the continent's ancient cities. It appears quite battered, and any distinguishing marks it might have possessed have long since faded.
Occupation: Farmer
Bio: Sands is a retired mercenary attempting to live out his remaining years servicing and nurturing the land around him. Twenty-four might seem a rather odd age to proclaim oneself a full-fledged retiree, but Sands has hardly led a normal life.
Trained since infancy in the brutal arts of warfare, Sands served in his first true combat role when he was only thirteen years of age. After that first taste of battle, Sands went on to participate in countless other conflicts, serving any number of factions and agendas in his extended career. Throughout all of this he maintained a steadfast code: that he was to fight for human beings, not vague ideologies. His long years immersed in the world of brutal combat have left their mark; almost all of the individuals Sands has ever befriended have subsequently died in bloody battle, leaving him more isolated than ever before.
Nevertheless, it is becoming clearer and clearer that the life of a farmer simply doesn't suit him. His is a wandering spirit, a spirit that that thirsts for adventure and the thrill of mortal struggle. And he is about to get his wish.
Name: Sands
Sex: Male
Age: 24
Weapons: Six-shot rifle, twelve-shot pistol, and a survival knife. Sands' rifle is a primtive, standard-issue model that is given to most soldiers serving on the First Continent. His pistol, on the other hand, is a firearm salvaged from ancient technological ruins--it is a truly beautiful weapon, intended to last for hundreds of years in perfect firing condition. Interestingly enough, Sands much prefers his rifle.
Home: Black Village
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 148 lbs.
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Dark brown, medium length
Skin: Light, somewhat tan due to prolonged exposure to the sun
Clothing: Sands is most often found garbed in the comfortable brownish-gray tunic and pants of the First Continent's peasantry, donning a simple robe as weather permits.
Equipment: Canteen, rations, bedroll, lighter, and the materials necessary to roll several dozen cigarettes. The lighter is an ancient momento, and obviously a relic recovered from ruins of the continent's ancient cities. It appears quite battered, and any distinguishing marks it might have possessed have long since faded.
Occupation: Farmer
Bio: Sands is a retired mercenary attempting to live out his remaining years servicing and nurturing the land around him. Twenty-four might seem a rather odd age to proclaim oneself a full-fledged retiree, but Sands has hardly led a normal life.
Trained since infancy in the brutal arts of warfare, Sands served in his first true combat role when he was only thirteen years of age. After that first taste of battle, Sands went on to participate in countless other conflicts, serving any number of factions and agendas in his extended career. Throughout all of this he maintained a steadfast code: that he was to fight for human beings, not vague ideologies. His long years immersed in the world of brutal combat have left their mark; almost all of the individuals Sands has ever befriended have subsequently died in bloody battle, leaving him more isolated than ever before.
Nevertheless, it is becoming clearer and clearer that the life of a farmer simply doesn't suit him. His is a wandering spirit, a spirit that that thirsts for adventure and the thrill of mortal struggle. And he is about to get his wish.
