Post by javaid on Jul 31, 2008 18:48:31 GMT -5
Name:
Javaid Mirza
Age:
20
Gender:
Male
Group:
Fire Nation Citizen (Flame Dancer if approved*)
Nation:
Fire Nation
Bender?:
No
Physical Appearance:
Javaid is a tall, scrawny man with sharp features and long limbs. His face is very angular with high cheek bones and a straight nose; thin lips and thick dark eyebrows. He has golden brown eyes that are a bit far apart with short, dark lashes. His dark bark-brown hair is pin-straight, cut just above his boney shoulders and left untied and a bit matted with mud, not to mention a few stuck twigs. The pale skin of his cheeks is covered in stubble and his chin has the starting of a goatee. He stands a fairly average five foot five inches and weighs a lean 140 lbs with very little muscle depiction and the figure akin to a twig. His fingers are calloused as are his bare feet and his limbs are boney with only the slightest definition of muscle under his chalky skin.
He he looks simply relaxed, his eyes often conveying a certain drowsiness with a dopey smile plastered on his thin, chapped lips. His pale cheeks are dotted with dark freckles that stretch across his nose and can also be found running down his knobby shoulders and arms. He is clearly not a man of any kind of wealth, but he seems happy enough the way he is.
Clothing/Armor:
Javaid is poor and is so shown in his dress. He wears a dull orange vest that is a bit short covering barely his upper torso and looks as though it may have once been a child’s shirt cut to fit a grown man. The vest is sleeveless, all the hems being unsewn and tattered; the body of the vest has been cut up the middle with nothing to hold it closed. The poor battered piece of clothing is stained and torn in many places with spots of sap and dirt covering the once possible beautiful fabric, but it fits well enough for now.
His lower half is covered in rusty brown shorts that fall past his knees and are held tight around his boney hips by a wrapped and tied piece of twine. Though the shorts are held up the legs are far too big and fall loosely around his chicken legs. The hems of his shorts are torn and splitting while the rest is fairly unwashed with dirt and grass stains galore. He wares no shoes letting his calloused feet take the beating of the unforgiving ground and his clothing is completely undecorated and falling apart at the seams. When the possibility arises that he might wash his clothes and himself in a stream or fountain he does so, but that isn’t very often so not only are his clothes stained and dirty but so is he.
Weapons:
Javaid is… well akin to retarded when it comes to weaponry. He has never practiced with any form of weapon and would be damn lucky if he could hit anyone with anything. In short, Javaid does not carry a weapon.
Personality:
Javaid is a fairly easy going person, he likes to relax and enjoy life, but he does have some sense of responsibility… it’s often lost when most needed, but he always finds a way to make the barest ends meet. He is extremely laid back and though he has his own opinions he finds they are best left to himself. He is a listener and a very good shoulder to cry on. He isn’t much of a conversationalist, but he can hold one up if he wants to. He is a bit of a slow speaker, often thinking about the best response before just spewing out words. He is nearly impossible to anger and when he is angry it is a silent, brooding kind of anger. The same goes to being sad and though he is sympathetic to many an individual he simply tries to make people’s day better by being relaxed and calm. He is not the most eloquent of people which makes speaking on the spot an issue, so when disturbing or unsettling situations arise he is ever the quiet one. He thinks a lot about what he would say or what he should say, but rarely does he ever actually get it out.
It is possible that these slow responses could land him in some trouble if he were to get into a fight of any kind, but he hasn’t really ever been encountered by aggressive force leaving that spectrum of his emotions a bit of a mystery.
He is a rational person, thinking logically, but logic isn’t always understood. Javaid learned long ago to take the world with a grain of salt. He’s just one of those “big picture” people, he has trouble focusing on the now as his head is more stuck in the later.
Javaid likes to weigh the pros and cons of a situation before becoming involved or making any moves. He has never had much time for games, but he has seen many old men playing tile games and believes that if he gave it a try and understood the rules he could be fairly good at them and might even enjoy them. Though he is quite content in simply playing music he likes taking leisurely walks and just enjoying the beauty of the world around him.
Background:
Javaid was born the first of his parent’s only children. His parents, a fairly young couple, are a bit of a mystery to him since his mother fell ill and died shortly after his birth and his father, a private in the Fire Nation army, died in war only months before his birth. Tragic… not so much, Javaid grew a very happy boy under his grandmother’s rule, she cared for him as a baby and though she had very little money she did what she could to support the boy in her last years. She wasn’t very well educated herself, but she did her best to recall and teach him what she knew. She taught him some writing and a bit of reading, but his math skills were left wholly undeveloped except for the most minimal of counting. Though he wasn’t necessarily a disciplined young boy he took up the responsibility of taking care of his grandmother as she grew older. He was a boy of eleven before his grandmother passed away and though he loved her dearly, for she was the only family he had, she had imparted a wisdom that made her death far more bearable. “Life is more than just what I have lived, but that I shall continue living even after I am gone,” in truth Javaid hadn’t understood what she had been talking about, but she seemed okay with dying so he was okay that she was dying.
Alone in the world Javaid used the one truly useful thing his grandmother had given him to survive, a Zither. The fretless instrument was passed down from his great-grandfather to his grandfather then to him. The heirloom had been given to him when he was but seven and from there he plucked at the strings mercilessly finding sounds that went together. With four years of plucking away under his belt he went to the streets of the village and played from dawn to dusk collecting anything he could from people whether it was money or food, though he generally discouraged people from placing rocks in his swatch of cloth which he set before himself as he played. Often people who had known his grandmother would feed him a meal or give him a place to sleep for the night. Most everyone in the town was watching out for the boy even if it wasn’t as direct as some of his grandma’s closer friends, but he was always grateful to everyone and anyone who was nice to him. People were very kind, more often then not giving him a hunk of bread or a some fruit, rather than money and it wasn’t long before he set out to explore the world like any good low-life does.
He was seventeen when he settled in the capitol finding a cozy little alley to call home. He played through out the town, generally avoiding highly policed areas since they enjoyed kicking dust in his face, but the general public liked his music and he liked playing. And playing for food and a few coins was all well and fine until he was nineteen, when he met the girl of his dreams. She was a slight woman, a bit younger than him with a small round face and big beautiful golden eyes. She had stumbled into his humble abode one night, running from only she knew what and he was more than happy to hide her. She stayed in the alley, hidden for days and he left to play his Zither, sharing any food he made during the day. She was truly grateful, but it didn’t seem enough, she needed to be away from the city and the next morning he left with her for the coast.
While they traveled he never asked where she came from or why she was running, he was simply content being by her side at her beckon call. It wasn’t until they reached their destination a small port town that she revealed who she was. Akina was the first born daughter of a small time business owner in the capitol and she had fled a fate worse than death- an arranged marriage to a man twice her age. Javaid vowed to protect her and care for her and only a few short months after their meeting she agreed to marry him though it wasn’t official, being to poor to afford any kind of ceremony, it was enough for them.
The coast was kind, maybe not so much as the large city crowds or those who had known his family, but like always things worked out. Javaid did well enough with his music to provide for himself and his new wife, albeit barely, but it was only a few short months before Akina was pregnant and worry started to creep into Javaid's life for the first time. He had barely been able to get enough food for Akina and himself and he knew if he was to support his baby as well he was going to have to leave the Fire Nation. He still played music on the streets, but he also did his best to find odd jobs around the town for some spare coins, saving what he could for the new family addition.
It wasn’t long into Akina’s pregnancy that a ship landed in the harbor of the small port town. It was a plain enough ship with some fairly plain travelers, but it was a bulk of the ships passengers that were truly amazing. Most of these strangers seemed very Fire Nation, clothed in rich reds and golds with the pale skin and dark hair that Javaid was used to seeing, but some of that group was wholly strange and new to his eyes. There were a few with tanned skin dressed in browns and only the slightest hint of green and one small girl that had the darkest skin he had ever seen and he knew immediately that she was of the Water Tribes just by that.
Curious he asked around to some of the other passengers to learn that they were part of a gypsy group, performers by trade, who had been paid to come from the Earth Kingdom to present for a noble here, and Javaid was instantly mesmerized. He had been planning on leaving the Fire Nation and here it was, the answer to his and his wives escape had fallen into his lap. It didn’t take him much time to devise his plan; he would dress himself and his wife up and they would sneak on board pretending to be part of the gypsies who had paid passage. Surely the crew would not doubt him, but one worry dwelled in his mind; he would never be able to afford nice clothing for himself let alone Akina which would force him to do something he had, oddly enough, not been stooped to before- stealing.
The thought of taking without payment from anyone bothered Javaid, but he knew that this was a once and a life time chance and later that night when Akina had described the Troupe, as she had seen them passing through, he knew it was something he had to do. He had some time though, the troupe was going to be in town for a little while, not only to perform, but to give the ship time to be ready. In that time Javaid watched the boat daily, estimating its departure date, and ‘window shopping’ for the perfect clothes. It wasn’t long before he found what he was looking for, a beautiful pale, pink robe with a darker pink hem with a dark sash. It was a large dress, but he figured that would give extra fabric for the baby as Akina’s stomach grew. In the same little shop he found a very handsome vest, one made of a deep red fabric with a dark, almost black, hem. The vest would fit nicely enough around his scrawny torso, but it was clearly not made for a full grown man and it would still be a bit short and it lacked clasps so it would remain open. For pants he spotted a plain pair of dark pants, nearly matching the hem of his vest with a well crafted sash of golden fabric to wrap around his waist.
All in all his finds were extraordinary and though Javaid felt a pang on guilt on having to steal such beautiful pieces he knew they would fit in perfectly with the image of the gypsies that he had ingrained in his head. Only days before the departure of the boat Javaid completed the first step to his plan. Late, after Akina had fallen asleep, he made out for the small stores where he had found his prizes. He had picked stores that were farther away from the shore to help keep his family from getting caught before they were on the boat, so it took some time to get to the right section of town. Once there he had little difficulty getting into the shops and taking the clothes, he left a couple of coins on the counter, they weren’t nearly enough to pay for any of it, but it felt better than leaving nothing, and done he returned to his wife.
He hide the clothes and early the next morning both him and Akina bathed in the ocean just outside town, scrubbing their skin clean and washing their hair which took considerable amounts of teamwork, but in the end they were dirt free and properly dressed. Javaid combed through his loves hair with his fingers, not having the heart to steal the bone brush he had seen at the story along with the clothes, and braided it down her back to help keep it clean for awhile. The two of them dressed more lavishly than they had ever been, went back to town heading directly for the boat with the few belongings that they had brought with them. Like Javaid had expected the crew that questioned him before they got on believed that they were part of the troupe and once aboard they went quickly into the depths of the ship. Javaid wanted to stay out of sight until they were away from the port, just incase anything went wrong.
Sample RP:
The melodious tune of the Zither drifted through the streets of the small port town, gathering a sparse crowd around a gangly, unshaven man. He played skillfully and a few people parted with some food and coins for his efforts, but the weight of a baby on the way lay heavily upon the man's mind. Javaid smiled kindly at the people around him, but it was nothing like his carefree grin, but more of a forced pleasure. He nodded his thanks as always and the onlookers were none the wiser to his predicament. The sun was setting over the horizon and he saw a familiar face poke out of a nearby alley. A small woman with only the slightest bump under her loose pink-red dress walked toward Javaid as he finished up his last song for the night, the small crowd dispersing.
“My love, do you still feel unwell?” he asked as Akina had been horribly sick that morning.
“No, the worst of it has past for now,” she smiled, knelling next to him on the street, “how did you do today?” looking down at the small pile.
“Fair enough,” he said handing her an apple that was on the pile after wiping a bit of dirt from its still green skin. She laid her head on his shoulder and took a bite of the apple before holding it up for him to take a bite. She held the apple firmly in her tiny fingers as he sunk his teeth into the bitter fruit, a smile playing on his lips.
“I heard something,” she said, still looking out over the horizon, continuing when Javaid’s silence showed interest, “I heard that a band of gypsies are coming from the Earth Kingdom, their to perform for a noble before they head back,” she took another bite of the apple, “I think it would be fun to see them,” her voice sounded of disappointment, knowing that if they were to see them it would only be from afar and they would not be performing. Her saddened voice pulled at Javaid’s heart strings and he wanted nothing more than to give his love exactly what she wanted, but he just didn’t know how.
Javaid Mirza
Age:
20
Gender:
Male
Group:
Fire Nation Citizen (Flame Dancer if approved*)
Nation:
Fire Nation
Bender?:
No
Physical Appearance:
Javaid is a tall, scrawny man with sharp features and long limbs. His face is very angular with high cheek bones and a straight nose; thin lips and thick dark eyebrows. He has golden brown eyes that are a bit far apart with short, dark lashes. His dark bark-brown hair is pin-straight, cut just above his boney shoulders and left untied and a bit matted with mud, not to mention a few stuck twigs. The pale skin of his cheeks is covered in stubble and his chin has the starting of a goatee. He stands a fairly average five foot five inches and weighs a lean 140 lbs with very little muscle depiction and the figure akin to a twig. His fingers are calloused as are his bare feet and his limbs are boney with only the slightest definition of muscle under his chalky skin.
He he looks simply relaxed, his eyes often conveying a certain drowsiness with a dopey smile plastered on his thin, chapped lips. His pale cheeks are dotted with dark freckles that stretch across his nose and can also be found running down his knobby shoulders and arms. He is clearly not a man of any kind of wealth, but he seems happy enough the way he is.
Clothing/Armor:
Javaid is poor and is so shown in his dress. He wears a dull orange vest that is a bit short covering barely his upper torso and looks as though it may have once been a child’s shirt cut to fit a grown man. The vest is sleeveless, all the hems being unsewn and tattered; the body of the vest has been cut up the middle with nothing to hold it closed. The poor battered piece of clothing is stained and torn in many places with spots of sap and dirt covering the once possible beautiful fabric, but it fits well enough for now.
His lower half is covered in rusty brown shorts that fall past his knees and are held tight around his boney hips by a wrapped and tied piece of twine. Though the shorts are held up the legs are far too big and fall loosely around his chicken legs. The hems of his shorts are torn and splitting while the rest is fairly unwashed with dirt and grass stains galore. He wares no shoes letting his calloused feet take the beating of the unforgiving ground and his clothing is completely undecorated and falling apart at the seams. When the possibility arises that he might wash his clothes and himself in a stream or fountain he does so, but that isn’t very often so not only are his clothes stained and dirty but so is he.
Weapons:
Javaid is… well akin to retarded when it comes to weaponry. He has never practiced with any form of weapon and would be damn lucky if he could hit anyone with anything. In short, Javaid does not carry a weapon.
Personality:
Javaid is a fairly easy going person, he likes to relax and enjoy life, but he does have some sense of responsibility… it’s often lost when most needed, but he always finds a way to make the barest ends meet. He is extremely laid back and though he has his own opinions he finds they are best left to himself. He is a listener and a very good shoulder to cry on. He isn’t much of a conversationalist, but he can hold one up if he wants to. He is a bit of a slow speaker, often thinking about the best response before just spewing out words. He is nearly impossible to anger and when he is angry it is a silent, brooding kind of anger. The same goes to being sad and though he is sympathetic to many an individual he simply tries to make people’s day better by being relaxed and calm. He is not the most eloquent of people which makes speaking on the spot an issue, so when disturbing or unsettling situations arise he is ever the quiet one. He thinks a lot about what he would say or what he should say, but rarely does he ever actually get it out.
It is possible that these slow responses could land him in some trouble if he were to get into a fight of any kind, but he hasn’t really ever been encountered by aggressive force leaving that spectrum of his emotions a bit of a mystery.
He is a rational person, thinking logically, but logic isn’t always understood. Javaid learned long ago to take the world with a grain of salt. He’s just one of those “big picture” people, he has trouble focusing on the now as his head is more stuck in the later.
Javaid likes to weigh the pros and cons of a situation before becoming involved or making any moves. He has never had much time for games, but he has seen many old men playing tile games and believes that if he gave it a try and understood the rules he could be fairly good at them and might even enjoy them. Though he is quite content in simply playing music he likes taking leisurely walks and just enjoying the beauty of the world around him.
Background:
Javaid was born the first of his parent’s only children. His parents, a fairly young couple, are a bit of a mystery to him since his mother fell ill and died shortly after his birth and his father, a private in the Fire Nation army, died in war only months before his birth. Tragic… not so much, Javaid grew a very happy boy under his grandmother’s rule, she cared for him as a baby and though she had very little money she did what she could to support the boy in her last years. She wasn’t very well educated herself, but she did her best to recall and teach him what she knew. She taught him some writing and a bit of reading, but his math skills were left wholly undeveloped except for the most minimal of counting. Though he wasn’t necessarily a disciplined young boy he took up the responsibility of taking care of his grandmother as she grew older. He was a boy of eleven before his grandmother passed away and though he loved her dearly, for she was the only family he had, she had imparted a wisdom that made her death far more bearable. “Life is more than just what I have lived, but that I shall continue living even after I am gone,” in truth Javaid hadn’t understood what she had been talking about, but she seemed okay with dying so he was okay that she was dying.
Alone in the world Javaid used the one truly useful thing his grandmother had given him to survive, a Zither. The fretless instrument was passed down from his great-grandfather to his grandfather then to him. The heirloom had been given to him when he was but seven and from there he plucked at the strings mercilessly finding sounds that went together. With four years of plucking away under his belt he went to the streets of the village and played from dawn to dusk collecting anything he could from people whether it was money or food, though he generally discouraged people from placing rocks in his swatch of cloth which he set before himself as he played. Often people who had known his grandmother would feed him a meal or give him a place to sleep for the night. Most everyone in the town was watching out for the boy even if it wasn’t as direct as some of his grandma’s closer friends, but he was always grateful to everyone and anyone who was nice to him. People were very kind, more often then not giving him a hunk of bread or a some fruit, rather than money and it wasn’t long before he set out to explore the world like any good low-life does.
He was seventeen when he settled in the capitol finding a cozy little alley to call home. He played through out the town, generally avoiding highly policed areas since they enjoyed kicking dust in his face, but the general public liked his music and he liked playing. And playing for food and a few coins was all well and fine until he was nineteen, when he met the girl of his dreams. She was a slight woman, a bit younger than him with a small round face and big beautiful golden eyes. She had stumbled into his humble abode one night, running from only she knew what and he was more than happy to hide her. She stayed in the alley, hidden for days and he left to play his Zither, sharing any food he made during the day. She was truly grateful, but it didn’t seem enough, she needed to be away from the city and the next morning he left with her for the coast.
While they traveled he never asked where she came from or why she was running, he was simply content being by her side at her beckon call. It wasn’t until they reached their destination a small port town that she revealed who she was. Akina was the first born daughter of a small time business owner in the capitol and she had fled a fate worse than death- an arranged marriage to a man twice her age. Javaid vowed to protect her and care for her and only a few short months after their meeting she agreed to marry him though it wasn’t official, being to poor to afford any kind of ceremony, it was enough for them.
The coast was kind, maybe not so much as the large city crowds or those who had known his family, but like always things worked out. Javaid did well enough with his music to provide for himself and his new wife, albeit barely, but it was only a few short months before Akina was pregnant and worry started to creep into Javaid's life for the first time. He had barely been able to get enough food for Akina and himself and he knew if he was to support his baby as well he was going to have to leave the Fire Nation. He still played music on the streets, but he also did his best to find odd jobs around the town for some spare coins, saving what he could for the new family addition.
It wasn’t long into Akina’s pregnancy that a ship landed in the harbor of the small port town. It was a plain enough ship with some fairly plain travelers, but it was a bulk of the ships passengers that were truly amazing. Most of these strangers seemed very Fire Nation, clothed in rich reds and golds with the pale skin and dark hair that Javaid was used to seeing, but some of that group was wholly strange and new to his eyes. There were a few with tanned skin dressed in browns and only the slightest hint of green and one small girl that had the darkest skin he had ever seen and he knew immediately that she was of the Water Tribes just by that.
Curious he asked around to some of the other passengers to learn that they were part of a gypsy group, performers by trade, who had been paid to come from the Earth Kingdom to present for a noble here, and Javaid was instantly mesmerized. He had been planning on leaving the Fire Nation and here it was, the answer to his and his wives escape had fallen into his lap. It didn’t take him much time to devise his plan; he would dress himself and his wife up and they would sneak on board pretending to be part of the gypsies who had paid passage. Surely the crew would not doubt him, but one worry dwelled in his mind; he would never be able to afford nice clothing for himself let alone Akina which would force him to do something he had, oddly enough, not been stooped to before- stealing.
The thought of taking without payment from anyone bothered Javaid, but he knew that this was a once and a life time chance and later that night when Akina had described the Troupe, as she had seen them passing through, he knew it was something he had to do. He had some time though, the troupe was going to be in town for a little while, not only to perform, but to give the ship time to be ready. In that time Javaid watched the boat daily, estimating its departure date, and ‘window shopping’ for the perfect clothes. It wasn’t long before he found what he was looking for, a beautiful pale, pink robe with a darker pink hem with a dark sash. It was a large dress, but he figured that would give extra fabric for the baby as Akina’s stomach grew. In the same little shop he found a very handsome vest, one made of a deep red fabric with a dark, almost black, hem. The vest would fit nicely enough around his scrawny torso, but it was clearly not made for a full grown man and it would still be a bit short and it lacked clasps so it would remain open. For pants he spotted a plain pair of dark pants, nearly matching the hem of his vest with a well crafted sash of golden fabric to wrap around his waist.
All in all his finds were extraordinary and though Javaid felt a pang on guilt on having to steal such beautiful pieces he knew they would fit in perfectly with the image of the gypsies that he had ingrained in his head. Only days before the departure of the boat Javaid completed the first step to his plan. Late, after Akina had fallen asleep, he made out for the small stores where he had found his prizes. He had picked stores that were farther away from the shore to help keep his family from getting caught before they were on the boat, so it took some time to get to the right section of town. Once there he had little difficulty getting into the shops and taking the clothes, he left a couple of coins on the counter, they weren’t nearly enough to pay for any of it, but it felt better than leaving nothing, and done he returned to his wife.
He hide the clothes and early the next morning both him and Akina bathed in the ocean just outside town, scrubbing their skin clean and washing their hair which took considerable amounts of teamwork, but in the end they were dirt free and properly dressed. Javaid combed through his loves hair with his fingers, not having the heart to steal the bone brush he had seen at the story along with the clothes, and braided it down her back to help keep it clean for awhile. The two of them dressed more lavishly than they had ever been, went back to town heading directly for the boat with the few belongings that they had brought with them. Like Javaid had expected the crew that questioned him before they got on believed that they were part of the troupe and once aboard they went quickly into the depths of the ship. Javaid wanted to stay out of sight until they were away from the port, just incase anything went wrong.
Sample RP:
The melodious tune of the Zither drifted through the streets of the small port town, gathering a sparse crowd around a gangly, unshaven man. He played skillfully and a few people parted with some food and coins for his efforts, but the weight of a baby on the way lay heavily upon the man's mind. Javaid smiled kindly at the people around him, but it was nothing like his carefree grin, but more of a forced pleasure. He nodded his thanks as always and the onlookers were none the wiser to his predicament. The sun was setting over the horizon and he saw a familiar face poke out of a nearby alley. A small woman with only the slightest bump under her loose pink-red dress walked toward Javaid as he finished up his last song for the night, the small crowd dispersing.
“My love, do you still feel unwell?” he asked as Akina had been horribly sick that morning.
“No, the worst of it has past for now,” she smiled, knelling next to him on the street, “how did you do today?” looking down at the small pile.
“Fair enough,” he said handing her an apple that was on the pile after wiping a bit of dirt from its still green skin. She laid her head on his shoulder and took a bite of the apple before holding it up for him to take a bite. She held the apple firmly in her tiny fingers as he sunk his teeth into the bitter fruit, a smile playing on his lips.
“I heard something,” she said, still looking out over the horizon, continuing when Javaid’s silence showed interest, “I heard that a band of gypsies are coming from the Earth Kingdom, their to perform for a noble before they head back,” she took another bite of the apple, “I think it would be fun to see them,” her voice sounded of disappointment, knowing that if they were to see them it would only be from afar and they would not be performing. Her saddened voice pulled at Javaid’s heart strings and he wanted nothing more than to give his love exactly what she wanted, but he just didn’t know how.
) .