Post by Sly on Nov 14, 2014 6:33:44 GMT -5
[attr="class","main"] [attr="class","imgdiv"] [attr="class","name"]Sylvester "Sly" [attr="class","race"]Antivan, Elf
[attr="class","infoh"]Physical Attributes
[attr="class","infoc"]In terms of physique, Sly is far from impressive. He's petite even by elven standards, stacking up to be a mere five feet and four inches. Though he is bulkier than a lot of elves of his stature, he's far from ripped and is more lightly muscled in his physique. Too much bulk would inhibit his contortionism and risk muscle tears. If one were able to get up close to Sly without making him uncomfortable, and see him naked (even rarer), one would see the tapestry of scars that is his body. His hide is weathered and calloused from years of accidents at the Circus, and he has a story for each one. Sly's face is perhaps a little more noticeable. With long, lush eyelashes and full lips, he's feminine even by elven standards. It's not unusual for him to be mistaken for a girl, something that once offended him but no longer does. If he has to be mistaken for a woman, at least he's mistaken for a decently attractive one. [attr="class","infoh"]Personality
[attr="class","infoc"]Sylvester is known as Sly for a reason--he's quick as a whip and brilliant, although the brilliance comes at its price. Sly is a double-edged sword in nearly every way imaginable, and often contradicts one trait with another, making him something of a walking talking peculiarity. Sly is brazen and fearless, and doesn't ever seemed to be concerned for his well-being. Risky situations come naturally to him and he even seems to enjoy being in the thick of it. This comes in direct opposition to his incredibly strong aversion to bodily fluids. When he was a young boy, the sight of blood used to send him into a fainting spell. As he grew older and was in the Circus for longer, injuries were prevalent, and he eventually became as accustomed to it as he could. Blood, mucus, feces and urine all still make him incredibly queasy. He can barely stomach being near them, and if it came down to fishing out a priceless heirloom from a steaming pile of bronto excrement, he'd rather let the heirloom disappear entirely. Crawling through a sewer? He'd rather kill himself. Sly is charming and seems to thrive in the spotlight. Years of being a performer have taught him how to manipulate a crowd and read people almost disturbingly well. Despite all his charm, though, Sly has a strong revulsion to physical contact. Business related contact (regarding acts in the circus), or light friendly touches like hand shakes are something he can manage. Hugs make him wholly uncomfortable and he will immediately try to break contact. Grazing his flesh with a whisper will make his skin crawl and he'll back away. Touching him in an intimate manner can (and has) sent him into a dizzy spell. He's even fainted from it before. Nonetheless, Sly likes people and is affectionate and compassionate in his own right. He just doesn't bond with people physically, and often has difficulty bonding with them emotionally. Conversing about his own beliefs, dreams and feelings isn't easy for him. He has a hard time putting himself into words and the whole process makes him uncomfortable. One of the other gifts that the Maker seems to have blessed Sly with is his astounding intellect. Sly has a nearly perfect memory, and as such can recall details and facts with ease. This has contributed to his aptitude with languages, though he cannot read or write. He's tried many times but the characters proved to be frustrating and indecipherable, as if always mocking him. His memory also ties in to his ability with numbers, which, when coupled with his ability to read people, make him an expert gambler. He can count cards in his head and weigh the odds and probabilities as easily as some people can spell. His memory comes at a cost, though. Being able to sharply recall things makes it hard for him to forgive and forget. The smallest slight against him can be held onto for a decade. He won't drop it, either, and will frequently bring it up, making him a vexing friend. A larger slight will earn silence from him and outright avoidance. While he realizes that he should put his issues to bed, his memory makes it difficult to reconcile. [attr="class","infoh"]Background [attr="class","infoc"]Like something out of the beginning of a bad bard's tale, Sylvester's story begins with a light dusting of snow. The winter in Antiva was bad that year, bad enough that it snowed three days straight, which was nearly unheard of. It was in the snow that Sylvester was found, lying face down sporting a serious injury to the back of the head. The injury was so severe that the merchant that found him believed the elven boy to be dead. When he still found signs of life in the boy, he nursed him back to health. Signor Caligari claims that this skull injury is the reason that Sly is so strange. It is almost certainly the reason that he cannot remember anything prior to his seventh year. Though the merchant looked high and low for a family, he was unable to find one. It seemed that no one local was missing an elven boy… or, worse, no one was looking for one. Though he'd come to sympathize with the boy, the merchant Diez was an elderly fellow, and his life was not one suitable for raising children. He was pickled about what to do, but his time in Antiva City was quickly running out. When the circus came into town, Diez took the elven boy to see it, mostly as a parting gift. The boy took an immediate liking to the circus, much to Diez's surprise. The boy had been mostly quiet prior to that, so seeing him get enthusiastic about something was a nice change of pace. It also gave him an idea. Rather than approaching the Chantry to look after the elven child, he approached the circus. The boy was never once consulted about this, and with a quick change of coins (Diez wasn't going to turn down money when they were offering it), the boy was given to the circus. Even though he liked the circus, the boy never forgave Diez for it. Adjusting proved difficult, at first. His neuroses were plentiful even then, and adults that wanted to fill a parental role found his distance, particularly his issues with physical contact, jarring. Bonding with children was equally difficult if not more so. Many children found his lack of memory to be… strange. Some of them could remember their third year--why couldn't he even remember his seventh? Assuming he really was seven. But the boy was willing and even eager to prove his worth. The spotlight blinded him, and the amazing tricks he'd seen the troupe perform kept looping in his mind. Where he lacked in social skill, he more than made up for in willingness to learn, and natural aptitude. When he was taught, he learned quickly, quick enough to be given the name "Sly" first. Given that Sly was a pet name for Sylvester, that eventually was his full moniker, although nobody in the circus ever used it. Initially, Sly was slated to work with animals because of his immense love for them. Unfortunately his inability to cope with bodily fluids proved too difficult for him to overcome, and working with animals became impossible. Surprisingly, Sly still seemed interested in high-risk routines, like acrobatics, escape artistry and fire dancing. Acrobatics also didn't pan out. Just when he got decent enough to remove the safety net, he ended up losing his grip and plummeting to the ground. The horrific nature of his broken leg turned him off to acrobatics, and even heights entirely. To this day he can't stand on any unguarded, unrailed surface higher than three stories. Even looking out the window at the top of a building can make him uncomfortable. Fortunately, he found his niche with both fire dancing and escape artistry, and alternated regularly between the two. Finding something that he was good at bolstered Sly's confidence, something that was much needed. After a year and a half in the circus, Sly was finally able to begin bonding with the troupe. Socializing came easier to him despite his neuroses in part because he felt validated. It didn't hurt that the other kids his age seemed to admire his aptitude and stupid determination. Though he wasn't the most charming or witty of the performers, Sly was able to hold his own and eventually became thick as thieves with the kids his age. The Circus wasn't just about being amazing anymore, it was about having a family and close friends. By the time puberty came, Sly was pushing bones out of his sockets with the best of them, and his sleight of hand was damn impressive. His juggling was pretty good too, although as a whole, the fire dancing thing was more difficult for him to pick up on. The best of the best moved with a fluidity that his pre-adolescent and adolescent body couldn't seem to pick up. He was good for his age, but he wasn't nearly as good at it as he wanted to be, or was with his escape artistry. Puberty brought more discomfort than simply awkward proportions and clumsiness. It became clear that Sly wasn't like all of the other boys and girls. When it came to physical affection, Sly was outright uncomfortable with it, and even disgusted and distressed by it. This was surprising. While many knew that he had issues with bodily fluids (and functions, for that matter), he'd grown into socializing. He'd even grew addicted to playing off of the crowd and basked in attention. Not seeking out affection was strange. They'd been convinced that it was a simple phase of his childhood, but in truth it was a phase that never passed. It didn't matter how skilled he got at manipulating the crowd or keeping a quick pace with conversations--contact was gross. Something that was exceptionally disappointing as he became older still and gained admirers. By seventeen, Sly fully grew into his body and mastered the art of fire dancing. The fluid movements came much more easily once his body was proportioned. The dancing was even freeing in a way--more so than literally freeing himself. Dancing required less thought than escaping from shackles, and offered him a release he didn't even know he needed. He could express things in dance he couldn't even begin to vocalize to someone else. This too seemed to help with his confidence and over all ability to relate to and socialize with others. It didn't help him fully get over his more anal-retentive qualities, but he had an easier time hiding them. He didn't seem like such a weird individual whenever he got offstage and started talking to the townsfolk. Finally being able to function outside of the troupe, Sly took to socializing as much as he could with strangers, learning languages and the million different ways to gamble. Eleven years later and not much has changed. Sly's gotten better with his arts and is considered one of the best escape artists and fire dancers in Thedas, not that there are many of them. Other than his increase in skill, he's very much the same. Inquisitive, brilliant, excellent at reading others, and incredibly, incredibly neurotic. Time has only afforded him the luxury of being less sickened by bodily fluids than he was before, but they still make him uncomfortable. ((Will undoubtedly edit later since I'm braindead right now.)) |