SMH Application (Praise the Sun)

[praisethesun]

Player Information

Name: Alexander
Age: Twentysomething
Current Characters: n/a
Contact: hitguyseatcrab @AIM, Akhrati @Tumblr, PMs

Character Information

Name: Solaire of Astora
Age: Assumed Thirties, unknown
Fandom: DARK SOULS

Appearance:

Standing around six feet tall, give or take a few inches, Solaire's build is stocky and muscular, with a muscle gut to be proud of. He holds himself in a relaxed manner, his body language open and friendly.

From head to toe, he is armoured in chainmail, with a defining tabard over the top. It's white, battered, battle-worn and has definitely seen better days, emblazoned with a bold sun with a unique face. One wrist is cuffed with iron and his boots are standard things, heavy and dependable.

Atop his head sits a pot helmet, a sliver cut out for his eyes. A jaunty red feather has been added, to give it a bit more personality.

While he's never usually seen without it, under his helm is a kind face with strong features gently rounded. There's a softness to his eyes, lines worn into his face where he smiles and roughly-cut red-blonde hair falls in choppy locks-- he also has a moustache.

It's notable, however, that his equipment has no special enchantment. The symbol on his tabard is not holy-- all of Solaire's prowess comes from his own training, unlike many of those seen out in Lordran.
 

History:

http://darksouls.wikidot.com/solaire-of-astora

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ra5FFVSNOrA

Solaire is an enigma, pure and simple. Nobody knows where he comes from and he rarely talks about himself, but his abilities and power say all that the lost souls in Lordran need to know.

Canon Point: Post-Game End, the Chosen Undead linked the fires.

Personality:

To summarise Solaire in one word, those that have encountered him would probably choose 'Jolly'. There are few in Lordran or maybe even the world as a whole that are more upbeat about life, their dire situation or charging at enemies. Even if snubbed, he does not resort to anger and he is rarely found to raise his voice, chastise someone or grow impatient. He is pleased to see anyone-- companionship is something he enjoys so very much and has even established his own covenant in the name of aiding others.

Yet it comes at something of a price. It is impossible to maintain such a saintly disposition without a note of doubt. Solaire's mission to find his own sun has led him to dark, depressive places and he grew more and more bleak with each passing day. His self-scrutinising nature can make him sullen, though he hides any trace of it behind his helm. No matter how many people he aids, it never feels like enough. He has seen how some think he is a fool, how some laugh or edge away and frets often, when left to his own devices.

Even those that join his covenant do not truly know who Solaire is. His title is a hint, certainly, stating his homeland, Astora; it is believed to be a holy land, its divine artefacts known the world over. Those that struggle in Lordran are aided by many selfless Astorans and as such, they are seen as modest, warm people. Solaire became Undead specifically to journey to Lordran to find his own sun-- despite his eccentric goal, his honesty ensures his followers remain loyal to him.

Another reason he is so valued by his battle comrades and so feared by their enemies is his staggering power. For such an unassuming man, one would think him to be slow and unwieldy, but he is swift, sure and strong. There is no fear when he steps into battle and he remains standing, no matter what.

Some have speculated, however, that such a man is not truly human. Lordran holds gods made flesh, with such incredible power that it shakes mortals to the core. There are tales of Gwyn, Lord of Sunlight, casting the God of War, his firstborn, from his halls and stripping him of his immortality-- it does not mean, however, that he does not still watch over his warriors. The medals he gives to those that he aids are marks of this god's, leading some to wonder...


 

Game Specific

Suitability:

Solaire is a Warrior of Sunlight, battle-hardened and sure, yet Santa Destroy is completely removed from everything he's ever known. He's seen countless horrors, yet sitting him in a modern city is baffling. The cycle of life and death in the UAA is something that he is used to, with the curse of the undead-- dying and coming back to life doesn't faze him any more. With this knowledge, he will proudly seek the topmost spot and the dazzling light that awaits him there.

 

Weapon:

The UAA have left him with something oddly familiar. It's not a flashy weapon by a far shot, nor is it particularly impressive, but Solaire is convinced it runs on some combination of witchcraft, crystals and magic.

When gripped, an unassuming hilt comes to life, doubling in length for hand room, a hand guard slams out and BOOM, from it comes a wide, consistent laser based around a weighted metal core, about forty centimetres across. It glows a warm gold and when swung, KRACKOWW, nobody expects a jagged bolt of lightning-esque pain!

Due to its weight, it must be wielded with two hands.
 

Samples

Log/Third Person Sample:

Languishing was far easier than actively trying to solve one's problems. He sighed frequently, laid around as much as he could and made little effort to move for several hours, waging a mental war with himself on the difficult subject of getting up.

It was the first soft bed he'd laid in for weeks, attained through means he was not particularly proud of, and from there, Solaire rubbed his face with his hands and heaved a truly impressive sigh.

Time to get up.

He'd mapped the way to the job centre, but the journey was a perilous, bizarre one, riddled with people dressed ever so strangely-- this was a time he did not know, even as one so accustomed to time possessing a fluid, unnatural, unpredictable quality. Yet oddly, it seemed strange here. Stoic. Moving in one direction and one direction only, consistently forwards with the plodding pace of an overburdened pack mule.

Thankfully, he still did not have to observe some human practises. Eating and drinking were still foreign concepts, though his stomach ached and his mouth was dry. He doubted there would be Estus in this land.

Below him, glasses rattled as the owner of the small property set about getting ready for the forthcoming evening. When Solaire finally found the resolve to drag himself downstairs to thank him, the man gave him an odd look.

Chainmail was certainly not in vogue.

What kind of bizarre place was this?

He was thankful when the owner of the taver-n...o, no, bar, gave him a pair of 'jeans' and a simple shirt to allow him to blend in better, less likely to scare off the customers, the rough-edged man commented. It wasn't a permanent position, either-- just until he knew where he was, found a better job, somewhere to live, but when busty bar wenches were in short supply, you'd take what you could get.

Best to lay low. Assimilate.

Then he would climb.
 

Journal Entry/First Person Sample:

I am unsure of this arrangement.

He paused, pen raising from paper as he thought.

Was I called here? Pulled here? Surely, there is reason for such upheaval, though why does this bother me so?

A sigh.

I am confident that he shall rule fairly over his new age-- he has no use for me. He was not my Sun, was he? It must not have truly meant to be, surely? Am I a fool to have abandoned him?

Such thoughts bothered him, made him sleepless-- they could not continue. He closed the book, set the pen aside and rubbed his eyes. This introspection would have to resume later.