Aryan Farr

[Aryan Farr]

ARYAN – THE RUNAWAY PRINCE


“Running away will never make you free.”

NAME: Aryan Farr
AGE: 20 years
GENDER: Male
RACE: Human
OCCUPATION: Wanderer
REGION: Japanese Empire
ERA: Feudal
POWER: None
EQUIPMENT: He carries a sword with him, one he brought with him from his homeland.

LIKES:
- Rainy days
- Peace and tranquility
- Lotus blossoms
- Feeling needed
- The smell of the ocean
- Winning arguments
- People with integrity
- Being successful
- Wandering the forest

DISLIKES:
- Looking weak
- Unnecessary violence
- The sight of blood
- Feeling out of place
- Restless nights
- Seeing others in pain
- Being told ‘no’
- Talking about his past
- Sleeping alone

FEARS:
- Death
- Being useless

SECRET: He is really a prince from another land. He has never told anyone this. He is too ashamed to tell the story, too ashamed to admit he ran away from his responsibilities.

PERSONALITY: Aryan is a kind man. He is gentle natured with a good heart, and he does anything he can to help others. He knows that he has done irresponsible things in his past, and he wants to make up for his foolish deeds. Whenever he is able to help someone, guide a lost soul into the light, he feels that somehow he is making up for the wrongs he has committed, and it makes him feel like a better person. That is not the only reason he tries so hard to help people though. The other reason is that he dislikes seeing people suffering. When he sees another person in pain, it makes his heart ache. He hates not being able to help. He hates feeling useless. He wants to be needed, even just by one person.

Aryan was raised to be a strong man. He was taught to hide his emotions and never show his tears. He was forced into the throne at a rather early age, and because of this he learned to keep his negative thoughts to himself. He can seem a little indifferent at times, because he has been trained to suppress emotions like pain and grief, but he has emotions just like everyone else. He hates looking weak and he refuses to cry in front of anyone. Occasionally he lets this mask slip, but it is a rare occurrence. He has learned that it is best to keep a strong face, no matter how hard life gets. After all, it is better to do that than burden others with his problems.

Ever since he arrived in Japan, Aryan has felt slightly out of place. He has been a misfit, someone who doesn’t really belong. People are kind to him, but he doesn’t miss the wary looks they give him, clearly questioning his strange looks and bizarre hair color. While most of the people in the villages of Japan are tan skinned from working out in the fields, Aryan is pale as a ghost. And while the majority of the population has raven black hair, Aryan’s is as white as snow. He knows he is different, and because of this he often feels out of place. It is a feeling he hates, but he has come to accept and live with it.

Aryan was raised by royalty, and because of this he is very polite. He has more manners than most, usually speaking in a very sophisticated manner. He is usually calm and civil, but he has a mind of his own. He has spent his life giving orders, and he dislikes being told what to do, usually paying no heed to rules. Luckily, he knows when to hold his tongue and is good at keeping rude remarks to himself. Even when he is mad, which is quite a rare occurrence, he is good at keeping himself under control. It takes a lot to make it show, but he does have a bit of a temper. His outbursts do not usually last long though, and he usually calms down quickly, returning to his peaceful self.

HISTORY: Aryan was born in a faraway land, one an ocean away from Japan. He was of royal blood, son to a royal family. His life was peaceful, a life that many would be jealous of. Aryan was not pleased though. He found living inside the castle walls boring and lonely, and he wished to see the outside world. His parents would not let him though, telling him that he must stay inside the castle at all times, as the world on the other side of the walls was a very dangerous place. Aryan was good and listened to them. He led a sheltered life inside the palace, a life free of worries and troubles. He would often stare out the window, watching the birds, jealous of their freedom. Aryan began to wish that things would change.

And they did. When the young prince was around the age of fourteen, his mother died. This left his father in charge of the empire. Unfortunately, a little less than a year after his mother’s death, the king was assassinated. War broke out, leaving the young prince in charge of the throne. His life suddenly became exciting, any trace of dullness gone. In a single day everything changed, and he found himself sitting on the throne, struggling to rule a torn country. He did his best, trying to make peace, but the other nations would not listen. They only wanted one thing, and that was to fight.

At the age of seventeen, Aryan attempted to join the royal military. For a year he had sat in his throne and watched war and famine tear about the country, and he was frustrated that he could do nothing to help. As part of his royal training, he had been taught how to wield a sword, and he believed that his skills could easily match that of the other soldiers. His advisors did not let him though. Aryan begged them, saying that he must fight with his men, but they held him back, saying that they needed him, that the country would be lost without his guidance. Aryan had no choice but to sit back and watch. The things he saw, death, famine, disease, have traumatized him greatly.

Eventually the young prince could not take it anymore. He did a cowardly thing and he fled the country. He stowed away on one of the trading ships. He had no idea where it was going, but that didn’t matter to him. He just wanted to get as far away as possible from his warring nation. He often regrets this decision, having to live the rest of his life knowing that he is a coward, knowing that he ran because it was the easy way out. He now resides in one of the small villages in Japan. People often look at him strangely, questioning his strange name and his odd colored hair. Aryan has resided here for four years now, and he has gotten used to the looks people give him.

ROLE-PLAY SAMPLE: The sky was slightly overcast today and dark clouds hung in the heavens, blocking out the sunlight. A strong wind blew, sending ripples through the murky water, causing the sand to fly up in the air. Autumn was slowly coming to an end, winter approaching, and the weather was becoming rougher, stormier. The shores of the beach were empty, and there was not a person in sight. Even the fishermen that could usually be found sitting on the rocks were nowhere to be seen. It seemed that everyone had decided to stay indoors and wait out the poor weather.

Well, almost everyone.

While most of the villagers were probably huddled up inside, curled up in front of a warm fire, there was one man who was not. Despite the rough weather conditions, he had decided to pay a visit to the beach. It was where he came when he needed to be alone, needed to think. The only proof of his presence was a set of footprints he had left behind him. They led down the beach, ending at a pile of large boulders. Some of them were beginning to fade, having been washed away by the waves of the ocean water as it lapped aggressively at the shore.

The man was sat atop the pile of boulders. He was perched dangerously close to the edge, feet hanging off the side, dangling above the dark water. He had pale skin, which was made to look even most ghostly from the cold wind, and even whiter hair. In his hands, he held an unsheathed sword. He seemed to examine the weapon, dark blue eyes locking with the steel blade. He held it in his hands for a moment, and it was unclear what was going through his mind. His eyes narrowed, and then with a sigh, he slowly lowered it, letting it fall onto the rock. He stared down at the weapon, snow white hair being whipped around in the wind, and then he reached down and grabbed it once more. This time he used it to make random etchings in the rock, chiseling lightly at the granite with the steel blade in a bored way.

The water was rough today, and it slapped against the rocks he sat atop heavily, angrily. His feet remained just out of the water’s reach, though the tide was beginning to rise, and it would probably be wise to return to the village soon. He paid no heed to the slowly rising water though, lost deep in thought, still mindlessly scraping marks into the rock. They were nothing special, just little lines and sloppy kanji, meaningless scribbles. If anyone were to see him out here, they would probably think he was crazy. After all, who would be out on the beach in this weather? How foolish that would be. The man didn’t mind the cold though, as his old homeland had been quite chilly. Besides, he loved the smell of the ocean. It helped relax him and calm his nerves. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, letting the crisp salty air fill his lungs.

The white-haired man sat there for minutes, which slowly turned to hours, unaware of what was going on around him, blind to the passage of time. He just continued to scratch at the rock with the tip of his sword, continued to stare off into the distance, out across the ocean, an ocean that he had once traveled, with a melancholy look in his sapphire eyes.

~~~~~~~~~

ALIAS: Aryan

[MIKA]

Awesome! Accepted!