[nick / name]: Jamie-sama!
[personal LJ name]: ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
skycatcher[other characters currently played]:Sakata Gintoki :: Gintama ::
ginironosoraAkaba Hayato :: Eyeshield 21 ::
passion8rhythmOnizuka Hime :: Sket Dance ::
peloripopEmperor Peony :: Tales of the Abyss ::
rappigtasticRabi :: D.Gray-Man ::
oodzuchi[e-mail]: grabthesky[@]yahoo
[AIM / messenger]: Giniro no sora (AIM), grabthesky (Y!M)
[series]: Star Ocean: Till the End of Time
[character]: Albel Nox
[character history / background]: Long, long ago, on a little planet called Elicoor II, a young boy named Albel Nox was born to a noble family in the country of Airyglyph. His father Glou Nox, head of the Dragon Brigade-- a faction of the kingdom's military-- was a pretty cool dude. When Albel was fifteen, Glou figured it was time to take him for his Accession of the Flame ceremony, where Albel was to find a dragon to tame and make a partnership with. However, after he was unable to release his own individual feelings and commune with the spirit of the air dragon, he was attacked, and his father leapt to his rescue-- losing his life to save his son, who escaped with a mangled, burned left arm, and the beginnings of the biggest antisocial anger issues in the history of za warudo.
Needless to say, Albel went "fuck this" and never tried again, and went on in life to be cold and distant, so that no one would ever sacrifice themselves for him again. Time passed, and Albel quickly rose on the military ladder, until he was the leader of one of the kingdom's three military branches, the Black Brigade-- comprised of heavily armored knights that move across the battlefield wielding huge swords much taller than themselves, encased in sturdy black armor, and said to be the most destructive of any of the nation's military branches.
At the age of 24, Albel runs into the protagonist of the game, Fayt Leingod, and is quick to blow him off, claiming that "easy wins have never been my style". Blah blah cliché plot developments, and you fight Albel later and beat him, and after defeating him twice, Albel gets imprisoned by the King of Airyglyph. He's later released to join Fayt and company, to save za yunivaasu.
Albel decides that everyone isn't as weak and worthless as he'd previously believed, and might possibly have developed the tiniest bit of loyalty to them, but unlike everyone else, his personality remains much the same. An asshole from beginning to end, and an asshole he'll forever be.
[character abilities]: Albel's a vicious swordsman, wielding a long katana alongside a clawed gauntlet that he wears over his mangled left arm. His style relies heavily on his agile speed and deep slashes, combined with his closer-combat gauntlet, swiping at the enemy and slashing with his sword at once. As well as the physical, his style melds with the world's universal magic, Symbology, which is mostly elemental, as well as a few unique-to-Albel attacks. He's also, surprisingly enough, one of the best healers-- though his spells are mediocre, his sharp senses and heightened awareness make him quick to react and etc etc.
[character personality]: Albel's personality can be summed up pretty easily. He's a
DICK. King of the assholes, eloquent, and sour. His favorite words are "maggot", "worm", "fool", and "shut up", and he sure as hell won't let you forget them. Chances are, you'll hear one or two of them in the first few minutes of meeting him. He's distant and cold, but if you can manage to get on his... less-bad side, he's got his own brand of loyalty and honor, and will probably do the right thing on more than one occasion. (But he'll still be an ass about it.)
[point in timeline you're picking your character from]: End game~
[journal post]:All right, maggots! Which of you incompetent fools forgot to inform the E wing that you planned on landing this godforsaken ship in the middle of
another city?! I have half the mind to let the Crimson Scourge feast on your flesh and bathe in your dirty blood.
Che. I'm leaving before your idiocy gets me caught up in the impending mess, as well.
[third person / log sample]:It'd been a long time since he'd remembered that night-- had a nightmare, even-- that left him awake in the strange bunk, in a strange room. A room that he'd gotten accustomed to during the day, but when he woke up at night and looked around, crimson eyes piercing the dark, he was well aware that his world was far, far away. His arm ached, itched, burned. The puckered skin felt more feverish than usual, but that wasn't what was bothering him.
What bothered him the most, made him curse up and down and kick the stunted potted plant across the room, the blue symbological ring glowing eerily, was that he couldn't simply go outside and kill a few monsters, let the chill night breeze cool his temper. He was in the middle of space-- a foreign place to him entirely-- so high in the sky that it wasn't even the sky anymore. He couldn't just let the thrill of the hunt blot out the sordid stains of the nightmare on his mind.
The big blonde oaf had shoved his shoulder once with enough force to send him stumbling, and teased the swordsman about "cabin fever". Maybe that's what he had. A sickness of the mind where he felt himself slipping deeper and deeper into insanity, with only his own cries to wake him. Nowhere to go, nothing to do, no way to ease away from it. And hadn't that maggot once said-- the one that brought him to his knees and inspired him to take up this journey-- that Albel yelled in his sleep?
It was shameful enough that his weaknesses were so close to the surface, so easily exposed. Wasn't he pathetic, as well, that way? He hated weaklings the most, and yet he'd allowed himself to become one. But he knew that all he could try to do-- all that he
knew to do-- was continue to make himself stronger. Strive to erase those flaws, faults, weaknesses.
No matter what it took. He couldn't allow his life, so heavy with other peoples' sacrifices, to be something so weak and despicable.
He would not allow himself to become a worthless maggot like everyone else.
Slipping the sheath of his sword into the belt around his waist, he gave the plant one last seething glare and approached the door, still twitching as it slid open with that mechanical whoosh, never having to lay a finger on it, and he stalked down the hallway. No matter what time it was, there were always a few worms awake to take his anger out on.
proud
bitchy
Lost
predatory
complacent