Post by Tristan LeBonte (I) on Jul 11, 2006 15:27:26 GMT -5
Name: Tristan LeBonte
Age: 20
Race: D’Angeline - Tsingano
Gender: Male
Appearance: In contrast to the merry grin that always seems to spread across his face, his features are dark, as though he bloomed from the very streets of Mont Nuit itself. Handsome lines draw out his pleasant face and almond shaped eyes, blue-grey in color and cheerful appearance. His generous pair of lips are always raised in a charming smile. He keeps his hair trimmed a little past his ears, using just a bit of oil to slick the front back, and give it a dampened look. His body, he keeps well toned with the laborious work he usually finds himself doing.
History: All that Tristan has ever known were the streets of Mont Nuit. Growing up surrounded by a large city, there was always some grand adventure Tristan found himself involved with as a child. But, as most childish adventures end up, he was usually dragged back home by the city guard. By the age of twelve, rather than being dragged back home, he was invited to play a game of cards with the amused city guards before returning home. He soon became quite a figure in Mont Nuit, with his charming grin, helping hand, and sometimes mischievous ways. Always surrounded by friends, whom he called his cousins and brothers, he was happy with his life.
It wasn’t until his fourteenth natal that he found out how different his life could’ve been. Returning home from a long day of work on a house, he and a few friends were helping rebuild after a fire a few weeks before, his mother – his only real family – sat him down at the small dining table. He could almost not believe what he was being told. And yet, he could.
Born to a D’Angeline lord and Tsingano wife in Siovale, Tristan was the product of their love. It was a love that soon after, would be vanquished by a roaring fire which consumed the entire house, leaving only the orchards and stables. It was Tristan’s Tsingano nurse, and good friend of the lady of the house that saved his life, taking him to the City of Elua where he might make something of himself.
Hugging the woman he had known as his mother all of his life as tears rolled down her cheeks, he vowed that he would make something of himself and perhaps retrieve his legitimate title one day.
Now, six years later, Tristan just waits for the right moment to claim his title. Until then, he works laboriously during the day, while maintaining his mischievous ways during the night.
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