Post by wildrose on Feb 18, 2011 16:52:08 GMT -5
♥IT'S MY LIFE♥
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“We’re not tools....We are hope!”
♥It's Now Or Never♥[/size]
Name: Firion
Age: 18
Which game are you from: Final Fantasy II
Weapons/Abilities:
Over the course of his time as a rebel Firion mastered the use of not one, but six individual weapon styles. He walks around at all times with the Blood Sword, Rune Axe, Yoichi’s Bow, Mythril Spear, Ohricalcum knife (with a cable attachment for use as a grappling hook), and his own bare fists. He can move his weapons without grasping them as if via telekinesis, though he does not have precise control this way and only uses it to perform complex stunts.
Magic: Though far from his specialty, Firion does know a few things about spellcasting. His abilities are limited to basic Fire, Thunder, Blizzard, and Cure. Though not necessarily weak, they aren’t dependable enough for exclusive use and are considered supplements at best. On the opposite end of the spectrum is Ultima, which is by far a mighty spell but take a lot for Firion to use.
Canon or OC: Canon
♥I Ain't Gonna Live Forever♥[/size]
Personality: Firion is, on the surface, a balanced and calm young man. He seems stoic, but not in the impersonal fashion. It would be more accurate to suggest that he appears the clean-shaven chaste hero, with a down-to-business demeanor that gets things done. His work ethic is high, and though he might like nothing better than to relax he knows there’s no putting off what needs solving. Such resolve is what lead this otherwise unremarkable orphan to lead the charge against an entire empire, and eventually to topple it. Even when his brain is rattled and his body is smashed to dust, he will still try to get up and continue the fight.
For one so young, Firion holds ideals highly. His own dream of peace - and to spread Wild Roses across the countryside when it should come - is but one of many desires he will stand up and defend. There is nothing more despised than one who would tread on the dreams of others, whether it be through tyranny or less hostile measures, and he will combat such oppression wherever it rears its head. Happiness can only come through freedom after all, and he has witnessed firsthand the destruction wrought by single-minded conquest. He’ll be damned before he has to see it happen again.
As a slight aside, girls are probably the one thing that can consistently break Firion’s cool. Don’t get the idea that he’s a pervert or something; it’s quite the opposite, really. He’s just fine around women normally, but his modesty and inexperience get the better of him should one come on to him. The more straightforward or lewd the pass, the more he squirms and fidgets. It’s just not something he can help.
History: Firion was born in the small town of Salamand, but has few memories of his time there. His birth parents passed away early in his life, and he was taken in by a loving couple in Fynn. Sadly, this home was not intended to last either. Palamecia’s lust for conquest soon brought invasion to the kingdom’s doorstep, and Firion was forced to flee the burning capitol in the company of his three close friends Maria, Leon, and Guy. They did not get far, and all four were struck down by a small squad of the Palamecian Army. Death was not to be his fate though, and the now orphaned youth awoke in Altair along with Guy and Maria. They soon discovered that they were in the secret headquarters of the Wild Rose Rebellion, led by Fynn’s own Princess Hilda. With no home to return to, they prove their worth and join the rebel army.
From then on Firion and his companions are cast into a battle of liberty and loss. They strike many blows against the Empire; locating mythril to be used in weapons, killing the traitorous Borghen, destroying the Dreadnought airship, and even rescuing Hilda from Palamecian custody following her capture. On the other hand they were show further brutality in war. The wounded prince of Fynn died before their very eyes, and several other companions perished for their cause. They witnessed firsthand the empty kingdom of Deist, laid bare by the machinations of Emperor Mateus Palamecia. They even found themselves pitted against the missing Leon, who had become one of Mateus’s trusted generals.
The Emperor is finally struck down, and it seems as though the war is won. However, in little time at all he returns from the depths of Hell itself, having been crowned its king. With the world now at stake, Firion leads his band into the farthest reaches of Pandaemonium; the castle that acts as the seat of Hell. There they encounter the demonic Mateus one final time and slay him in a climactic battle, ultimately bringing a decisive end to the conflict of his world. He had lost comrades-in-arms, and in the aftermath even Leon went his own way in shame. But peace was peace, and finally Firion could make his dream a reality.
Likes:
Independence
Peace
Motivating others
Standing up for the wronged
Roses
Dreams
Dislikes:
Conflict
Death
Oppression
Injustice
Tyrants
♥This Ain't A Song For The Brokenhearted♥[/size]
RP Sample:
He was falling.
Before his hazy eyes, everything seemed to slow to a crawl. He could make out the individual flecks of blood as they flew from the gash on his upper body. He saw the still bodies of Maria and Guy, his friends, not too far from his own position. He witnessed Leon, wounded as he was, continue to do battle with the superior Dark Knights. Was this it? Would Firion die here, unable to save a single person? Unable to help those dear to him? Already the ground grew closer, lit with the orange of the blazing Fynn at his back. He didn’t want to abandon Leon. He would fight to the bitter end! But....so tired.....
He remained conscious maybe ten seconds after hitting the grass. His eyes rolled shut as his precious bodily fluids seeped out onto the ground. Was this the end then?
He jolted awake in a wholly knew location. Somewhat confused, Firion propped his upper body and did his best to sit up. The room was without windows, or any other features for that matter, save a single circle in chalk that he lay in the center of. Where was he? Blinking, he realized that his body did not ache. Pulling back his upper garment he was surprised to see that he had not even a scar from his wound. How? He was certain that the Dark Knight had hit something vital, and yet he sat here now without a scratch to show for it.
Staggering to his feet, Firion made for the door. Perhaps he could find answers beyond it. And indeed he would, along with the Wild Rose Rebellion.
How did you find us: Oh, the usual....
Custom Title: Rose of Revolution
Anything else you want to shout out: WHY MY KOBOLDS BE STARVIN’, GAME!?
Password: “You don’t need a reason to help someone”
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