Stian Jarlson
May 25, 2014 1:05:14 GMT -5
Post by Stian Jarlson on May 25, 2014 1:05:14 GMT -5
stian jarlson  eighteen male 5'11"" & 150 bisexual student trainer zero | personality Stian is what could be called a fairly playful person. He likes sweets, and games, and the sound of chatter and laughter around him. He's a people person, generally, loving the excitement and the energy that comes from surrounding oneself with a large group of friends, and he adores being the center of attention. Wherever there's excitement and adventure you're bound to find him in the thick of it, whether or not he was the one who actually caused it. He's a little loud, sure, a little flamboyant and giggly and almost too sickly sweet, but he seems to be a nice guy. Almost a wimp, actually- he doesn't take insults well, prone to pouting and elaborate shows of almost-tears- but that's what his loyal friends are for, right? He's never done anything to tarnish his gleaming reputation- at least, not in public.However, because he's involved with many people, he also has quite an ear for gossip. And beneath that sweet, smiling exterior is someone who always wants his way- and is willing to do most anything to get it. He has a knack for knowing what people want and need, yes, but it doesn't mean he actually cares; far from it, he's completely obsessed with himself over all others and incredibly cold to their plights. He lives for manipulation and his own amusement- and, alright, he also wants to be the best person in the school. Highest grades, most money, rarest dragons- who wouldn't? The only difference between himself and the others is that he doesn't have any boundaries in what he is willing to do to get there. There's something just the slightest bit off about him, an inability to care about others in the face of his own desires. He wants to be popular. He wants to know everything that goes on in his school. He wants to be a king- and Thor help anyone who gets in his way. history Stian was born to an affluent family in a rather small village, and thus, though he was far from royal, he was raised to think he was something like it. He had everything he could wish for and, most importantly, the adoration of every child in the village. He wasn't allowed out to play with those 'of the lower class' for many years, and though he had private tutors rather than attending local schools, eventually he was allowed to go out into the town and meet the locals- and they treated him like a god. He had more, he knew more, he did have a certain exotic air to his appearance. And, alright, he milked it. For all he had. Even at eight years old he was organizing the other children to serve him, to bring him all the best sweets and toys and to let him win every game. But the one thing he didn't have- the one thing his parents would never let him have- was a dragon.It was low class, they told him, to care for a beast. It required getting your hands dirty, cleaning cages and polishing saddles, and it was something far below someone of his status. And sure, they owned the occasional dragon, sure. But they also hired keepers for them, and the beasts had no concept of such material ownership and thus had no love for their official owners. While the other children told stories of their family dragon letting them ride or being their best friend, all the little Stian could say was that his father had one stowed away somewhere. They had something that he did not have- that he could not have- and so naturally he hated them for it.And so, at thirteen, he asked his parents to allow him to go off to the Dragon Academy, thinking that they could not possibly say no to such a prestigious school. And then they said no. The tantrums were a sight to behold- he begged, he pleaded, he pouted, he threatened- but his parents were determined that he would be the one to inherit their business and their rank. They told him that as long as he lived under their roof he would have nothing to do with dragons- and so he waited, learning all he could and biding his time. Birthdays came and went, and his status among the island's children, once so unshakable, began to fade. The longer he went without a dragon the more they discovered that he was not one of them- and maybe, just maybe, something a little bit less. He was miserable. On the day of his eighteenth birthday, the day his father was to pass on some symbolic something or other on inheriting the family fortune, he fled. He didn't want some posh life of people hating him. He wanted a posh life of people loving him, and he wanted a dragon while he was at it. And thus, off to Domare he went, determined to start anew but not yet aware of how much work that entailed. dragons None yet~!general -Though his hair is pale enough to be white, he isn't technically albino. His eyes do have pigment, a pale icy blue, though they can look almost purple in certain light.-He has a tattoo beneath his left eye, a bluish purple line with three spikes trailing down from it. -He has a long scar down each of his shoulder blades- the official story he tells people is that that's where his wings used to be. ⤷KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN ⤷BYAKURAN ⤷JARLSON, STIAN |
LAIKA OF GS!
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