Name: Serpho Mirfak
Gender: Male
Age: 8 Solar Sweeps/17 Human Years
Race: Troll - Rust Blood
Kingdom: Derse
Psychological Traits:
On the whole, Serpho is somewhat careless. While he has every capability that should allow him a typical level of attentiveness, the young troll prefers to neglect that for the sake of not interfering with whatever endeavor he so wishes to partake in. Those aforementioned endeavors more often than not manifest into needlessly unproductive excursions about the lower districts. Fortunately, the majority of Serpho’s adventures usually cause little damage beyond a scorn for proper time maintenance and the occasional broken window.
When push comes to shove, Serpho can be inventive with his surroundings. While he would love to use brawn to get his way, the troll is not exactly any sort of pinnacle of brute force. As he has never encountered the chance to fend off any attackers exceedingly more powerful than himself, Serpho could very well be inclined towards fleeing from the scene. His pride would suffer greatly for that, though. Maybe a few encouraging words shouted at him in a dramatic-skirting-corny manner could bolster his confidence back up?
There are only a few things that Serpho is not fond of: monotony, aprons, and containers. Stemming from more recent years, the troll has developed a loathing for containers of any sort and crippling claustrophobia. If he has his way, any and all things would be free—nothing would be held within such foulness as jars or boxes or Tupperware! But seeing as his caretaker has a tendency to become livid if Serpho dumps all of the cooking ingredients onto the counter, the troll settles for simply allowing his room to be the embodiment of contained chaos.
Serpho likes to think himself ripe with possibility. One day, he could be heroic. One day, he could rescue a damsel/dude in distress and become his or her matesprit. One day, he could have his name printed across the front page of The Enquiring Carapacian. But for now, he shall have to settle with the drudgery of working in his caretaker’s bakery.
Physical Description:
Serpho is a rust blooded troll with thinner horns that take a slight curve upwards, and then gradually turn down before ending in a sharp point. The young man is of lean build and stands at a middling five foot eight. He wears a near-constant, lopsided grin on his lips and has a tendency to wink when he is feeling playful or flirtatious. His hair, like the rest of him, is a mess of partially side-swept bangs and thick pieces sticking every which way before tapering off at the nape of his neck. Considering that he sits at the bottom of the hemospectrum, Serpho wears simple, cheap clothing. It is probably best he wears such inexpensive cloth since it is always messy from either his work inside or his gallivanting about while he is outdoors. On occasion, the young troll can be seen wearing an apron that he despises with an unholy passion.
Background:
Serpho remembered near nothing of Alternia beyond a benevolent face--round and pallid as faded ivory—and the scorching tongues of furious flames. In many ways, he was thankful for that fact. That planet was a past that held little for him. Being a rust blood, he was taught, did not have many benefits.
On this new planet of sharpened spires of twisted aubergine and grounded magenta pathways there was opportunity. Here, he was gifted with a carapace of benevolent face—round and dark as the far reaches of space—and a roof to be housed under.
Serpho did not know he was still sitting in the bottom of the ravine, the districts of toil and labor and scratching your claws into the craggy walls of success until you bled for it. All he knew was that there was someone who cared for him—cared about him—and he had a belly unfamiliar with the painful, crippling pangs of true hunger. He always had food; it was in his carapace’s occupation. The two of them were at the bottom, but they were not dead walking.
He grew up a restless child of boundless energy and curious mind. While he bore little desire to learn by books, he was eager to educate himself in the ways of the world. His carapace persisted, made to assure that did not happen. The adult understood Serpho’s place: you can take a troll out of Alternia, but you cannot take Alternia out of a troll. And so, the young troll stewed in the pent up backlog of his adventurous desires, forced to knead dough and decorate delectable goods with graceful hands he did not possess.
Freedom always comes at a price.
The rebellion began for him when explosions rent the glass windows of the bakery inward--a shower of jagged, iridescent daggers. There was red blood, like cherries ground to a pulp and aged metal painted across purple floors and walls. Serpho was not the adventurer he wanted to be; his carapace was the first to shove him into the nearest cabinet, whereupon he was commanded to stay.
He did as he was bid, stayed there like a coward when the highbloods--intoxicated on hopes and dreams of righteous freedoms and possibilities--came in and looted the place, beat his caretaker within an inch of his life, and then left. The only heroic thing Serpho did that night was try to keep his carapace alive, the both of them cramped in that cabinet, shivering and praying for no other visitors. To this day, Serpho associates a cramped space with the possibility of entrapment.
Serpho’s dislike of the Condesce and her cause stems, solely, from how he feels it has affected his life. He’s bitter, petulant, eager to blame, and does not truly understand, just yet, what it takes to fight victoriously for a cause. Instead, he has what now hinders him as his guide and he utilizes that for his motivation.
His carapace no longer possesses the mobility he used to have—his constant companions are a trembling hand and the support of a cane. Serpho tries, he really does, to help his caretaker around the bakery. But then he looks to wide windows--out to Derse--and sees the chance to discover and maybe even make sure no one ends up like his carapace did.
OOC: Hi, guys! It's just Jade again! I was hoping to get a chance to put this OC out in the field of rp-ing and, well, to get out onto Derse!
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