Silvar

[Silvar]

(( General Information ))

Character Name: Silvar (He discarded his last name some time ago)
Age: He's forgotten his exact age by now, but suspects it to be somewhere in the range of 700-800.
Identified Court: Dark
Fey Blood: Pure-blood Dark
Appearance: Silvar stands at a pretty average height of 5'9", his frame thin but not overly so and with very moderate muscle definition. His overall appearance is a bit wild and unkempt, but poised and dangerous.

His hair, an ashen sort of silver, is worn at a medium length, just long enough to tie back the back in a short ponytail, though his bangs never fail to fall out of it, the longest strands of which reach just past his jawline. All in all, the ponytail always looks hastily swept back, the rest of his hair that falls loose looking as if it hasn't so much been groomed as simply fallen into place in a mess that still seems to look just fine as it is.

His eyes are the color of blood, hardened by time and battle and a bitterness the reason for which he keeps to himself, and his smile is sharp, canines slightly longer than average.

As tribute to the battles he has fought, his body is littered with scars, each one of which has a story and a memory, though the most prominent one is on his left side, the story behind which he prefers not to bring up. He also has several scars on his face, one across the left cheek, one up the right side of his chin, one across the bridge of his nose, and one that he is lucky didn't cost him his right eye.

His attire is usually simple and easy to move in, black and often lacking a shirt outside of the court. Within the court his attire is fitting of his position, still black, but with red accents. His wings are of average size, covered in dark feathers that are actually quite sharp.
Inner Court: Warrior of Dark
Level: Level 2
Powers: From a young age it was apparent that Silvar had a strong proficiency in controlling shadows and the dark element, able to manipulate it to his will. As time progressed, he became more and more adept with this power, advancing from being able to simply twist shadows on to a more deadly stage of being able to turn them into weapons, making any shadow near him potentially deadly.

Further into his life his control over this power grew and blossomed, and he was able to effect a larger and larger area at a time, but eventually, the power reached a peak point at which he started to have trouble keeping it in check. It began to be accompanied by a lust for violence and bloodshed, and tended to spiral out of control when he experienced strong emotions (particularly so in the case of rage). It is because of this lack of control that he has lost nearly all of the people he once held dear.

Though with time he has been able to bring his power under a reasonable amount of control once again, it still flares out when he is emotional, and the backlash after a strong burst tends to leave his sanity in a bit of a miserable state for a while. The shadows around him often seem to weigh heavily on those nearby, and once they start to shift like they are alive it is a sure sign of his control slipping. Once a lapse in control becomes too great, it is a good idea to not be around, as the shadows have a tendency to lash out at any living thing in his vicinity with little provocation. Careful schooling of his emotions has caused these incidents to become much fewer, but each time his psyche seems to slip just a bit more out of balance.

He also has the ability to manipulate his blood into blades that protrude from his forearms. It is this that he uses in close combat, but overuse tends to cause a little lightheadedness, as it is blood, after all.
Magical Knowledge: Silvar never really had much talent for any magic other than dark weaving, and even then, his control over the element as a naturally occurring power seemed to make weaving a bit unimportant, and while he was brought up learning it, he has a habit of forgetting most of it.

(( Personality ))

To the casual observer, Silvar is the epitome of his position, powerful and fear inspiring with an unquestioned loyalty to the queen. The closer one looks, the more that perfection falls apart, and the more detail comes to light (or dark, as it were).

While strength is not something he lacks, the stability of his sanity is something that is, at times, quite questionable, and while he tends to do a fairly decent job of hiding his lust for violence, it is apparent to those who see him on a regular basis. He has always enjoyed battle, but almost never as a sport, preferring that he kill his opponent or die trying, and when a Light Fey is involved, he tends to go above and beyond brutality, even to the point of losing control and lapsing into a period of madness, for his hatred of them runs deep and is readily apparent to anyone who so much as mentions them around him (a hatred he has carried for centuries, for a reason he tells absolutely nobody), as it is almost always a guarantee of pain (or even death).

Though typically his gaze is sharp and his tongue sharper, Silvar does have a sense of humor, albeit a warped one, and the only thing that entertains him more than a game of wit and manipulation is the suffering of his enemies. Death is his only love, and though selfishly he clings to life as much as the next person, he seems not to fear Death, or at least, not near as much as he should.

Due to a slowly but steadily declining level of sanity, his personality may shift as time goes on, but will remain for the most part similar (most pointedly he'll just get more.. well.. crazy).

(( History ))

From a young age, Silvar was put through his paces, having come from a military background. His father pushed him in any way he could, and he took pride in his clan and its heritage, training hard in many forms of combat.

Over time, his power grew, and with it the emotions between himself and his father grew more and more distant, and his feelings for his clan became resentful and bitter, always hounded to do better, to reach higher, to become as good a warrior as this clansman or that clansman, until one day, he snapped. The end result was the utter annihilation of his entire living bloodline, and the pivitol point in the development of his power. Afterward, he kept to himself for several years, needing to recover mentally from the incident.

It was during that time in which he travelled away from the Dark kingdom, ending up in a neutral land in which he met a wandering Light Fey, falling for this Fey despite his better judgement (for when does love make sense?), though in the end, their differences pushed them away from each other, and Silvar tried to bury it upon returning to his homeland.

When he emerged again into the public view, he reached for the highest position he could, and swore his loyalty and skill to the queen. Being in such a position gave him ample opportunity to satiate his lust for battle, and as the Fissure of Woe approached, his mood only improved. It was with sheer abandon he fought in the immense battle, looking upon it as the time he had felt most alive, and a time during which he happened upon an awfully cruel habit. Many an unfortunate Fey in that battle lost their Wings to him. It was an unfortunate happenstance, however, that during this battle, he faced the one he had loved, and sadly, it was a battle to the death that he came out on top of, though not without injury.

Unfortunately, during the Fissure of Woe, he consistently overused his power (part of which was due to the emotional turmoil of having to kill his only love), and those that remember him on the battlefield would remember a crazed and dangerous thing, laughing as he killed his enemies, a smirking, bloodstained figure, rumored to have even killed warriors on his own side in his lust for death.

After the Fissure, he hid himself within the court, only appearing if he was required to, as his mind was frazzled, and he was shaken badly by the battle, taking quite a long time to recover a semblance of himself again.

Slowly but surely, however, he slipped back into his old ways, albeit a bit differently, just a subtle change but one that was obvious to those that knew him (though none truly knew him well). Currently, he continues life in this manner, and though the throne has changed hands in his lifetime, he has kept his position (sometimes even by rather ignoble means, and he has made it known that anyone wishing to take his place will have to kill him first).