Post by Cecil Amier on May 13, 2014 18:18:07 GMT -5
Amier; Cecil; Weapon
He bent down to pick up the light, blue and black, shoulder bag he had set upon the ground, and slung it over his shoulder. He double checked its contents, and satisfied that he forgot nothing, he straightened his posture and took a single deep breath. He kept his head firmly forward as he took his first steps towards his new place of learning.
Name: Cecil Amier
Nicknames: Cecil, Monsieur Amier,Silly Butterfly Boy(He doesn't like to be called that)
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Race: Weapon
Position: Student
Class: One Star
Partner: Stella Riordan
A Strong Body
Picture:
Appearance: Cecil has a youthful face, with soft, relatively round features. He has fuller eyelashes then most guys, and his eyebrows are also maintained neatly: not too thin, not too bushy. His nose isn't particularly large, and is rounded. His eyes are a vibrant blue hue, reminiscent of the sky on a clear summer day. His auburn hair, which goes down to his shoulders, is combed and styled on a daily basis, though he generally prefers to part his bangs in the from his left and for his hair to cover his ears, at least partially.
He stands, always in a perfect posture, taller than average for a boy of his age, though not by much. His musculature is also rather unimpressive, being lean and slender. His skin is tender and not pale, and his hands and feet lack callouses of any sort. He keeps his nails smooth and even.
His outfits typically consist of red shirts or sweaters, and he prefers long sleeves regardless of the weather, though he'll be sure to wear thinner fabric in warmer temperatures. He takes care to not wear his clothes in a sloppy manner. He always wears a blue silken scarf around his neck, and its length goes down to the middle of his abdomen. He alternately wears jeans or slacks, and this section of his wardrobe is primarily dark grey and black.
Height: 5 feet, 7 inches
Weight: 145 pounds
Fighting Style: Cecil has a passive fighting style; he never makes the first move and prefers to make ripostes and counter attacks. He refuses to expend any unnecessary energy whilst avoiding enemy blows, and thus he has trained particularly well with his footwork. It is another matter entirely when he is dealing a blow of his own, however, as his flair for dramatics demands that he makes superfluous flourishes.
He'll often try to utilize the environment and the enemies' characteristics to his advantage, and is quite experienced to adapting to different circumstances. Due to his own slender build, he doesn't rely on muscle to deal damage. He prefers an efficient utilization of his elbows and knees, and will partially transform only if he thinks the foe is of any considerable threat.
Personality: Cecil has the utmost confidence in himself and his capabilities, though he'd rather show this with his actions than brag about them at length. Not that he is humble, mind you. It should come as no surprise, then, that he always carries himself with an air of smugness and vanity. He refuses to show any shame in anything he has ever done or said, and will try to play off even his mistakes as intentional. Which can be quite often, as he has unwavering bravado in carrying out even his most poorly thought out plans.
The quantity of his poorly thought out plans and actions are generally outweighed by his strokes of brilliance, however. Cecil has very keen perception, and sharp analytic skills. He takes detailed mental notes of everything he witnesses and plays out scenario upon scenario for any upcoming event he could anticipate. Though, it should be noted that Cecil never likes to reveal to anyone else just how much he knows, and how much he has planned in advance. He'd much rather be perceived as a person with uncanny luck and effortless swagger. A swashbuckling, charming rogue, even; though he never actually proves himself to be a swashbuckler.
He does have a penchant for flair and dramatics, to be fair. He is fond of using hand gestures and body language to convey his messages with greater panache. He also likes to think he has a way with words, and he can say anything, no matter how absurd, with the same bravado he always has. He is never afraid to look at someone in the eye, or to clasp their hands so as to convey earnest enthusiasm in whatever nonsense he is spouting.
Cecil is a habitual liar, and getting a straight answer out of him is often difficult. He also tends to enjoy toying with others, though he prefers to stay on at least amiable terms with people he has to interact with regularly(such as fellow students). He can also be very peculiar and particular about how things are done and how things are situated, and he can at times fall prey to having skewed priorities.
Inside the Soul
Weapon form: Cecil's weapon form is that of a pair of butterfly swords, also known as hudie shuangdao, connected by a six-foot chain at the base of their handles. Each blade is single-edged, and are approximately eleven inches long. They are only sharpened along half of their edge, from the middle of the blade to the tip. The tips themselves are quarter circle styled, suited more for chopping/slashing than stabbing. The handles are about half a foot long, and gently contoured for a more comfortable grip. He has small, but ornate, crossguards to protect the hands of the wielder, which can be used to hook or block an opponent's weapon.
Cecil's blades have a red, some might even say garish, hue to them. His handles are made of varnished brown wood, and his crossguards are a dark, glossy, grey. The chain that connects the two blades is a very dark blue, nearly black, even.
Partial Form: Cecil's partial form involves his right arm, from the elbow up, taking the form of a blade. The edges of said blade faces outwards, and is thus rather suitable for slashing motions.
Resonances: N/A
Out of your Mind
Strengths: Intelligence, Strategic, Good Balance
Weaknesses: Physically Weak, Low Endurance, Low Stamina
Hobbies: Cecil enjoys the performing arts. He never would practice in front of anyone(he wants to seem just naturally really good), but he derives great satisfaction in singing(tenor range), dancing, and acting. He also writes his own poetry, but those he'd never show anyone; those poems are the only thing he has shame in. Well that and the fact he has no experience when it comes to makeouts.
Likes: Himself, spicy food, people he could easily tease, Ballet, beauty
Dislikes: hooligans, bitter foods, stoic people, sweltering weather, rats, studying
Aspirations: Put simply, Cecil desires admiration. Specifically, his goal is to be admired as a hero, though that's really only because he prefers to place himself on a moral high ground. Note, he does not have to desire to be a hero, or heroic, only to be recognized as such. However, one can only hope that in the process of establishing such a charade, he would learn how to be a better person.
History: Cecil was the second born child of Florence Amier and Xiùyīng Zhāng, a husband and wife who made their home in the Big Apple, New York City. There wasn't anything particularly special about the circumstances of his birth, or at the very least, nothing he is aware of. He would probably describe it in florid, though arbitrary, detail, and place great gravitas to the event, however. A trait he shares with his father, who is a professional entertainer who frequently performs in broadway theatre. His mother, however, has a far more low-key career; she hunts kishins as a demon weapon with her brother as a meister.
Yes, it was from Cecil's mother that he inherited his demon weapon form, and he even shares the weapon type with her. His older sister, Abigail, is also a weapon, but her form was expressed in a different fashion. Cecil had grown up as a child anticipating the day he would first transform, as he greatly admired his mother, who in turn was eagerly anticipating passing down her skills and knowledge to him.
His first transformation wasn't quite what Cecil or his mother had thought it would be like. Nothing tragic; but rather, embarrassing. It was a most inopportune time to suddenly lose the capability to grip onto something. He was coming home from school one day, at the age of 13, carrying home a very precious item he needed to keep safe for class. A sack of flour, cradled in his arms. It ordinarily would have been no problem to look after said inanimate object, but whilst walking alongside some friends from class, his forearm suddenly transformed into a blade and cut the sack open, resulting in flour pouring unto his clothes and a failed assignment.
Cecil was humiliated; not that it was that big of a deal, really, but such an incident was unacceptable to his sensibilities. Fortuitous, then, that his mother took him out of class anyway so as to give him training as a demon weapon. After 3 years of intensive home schooling, Cecil was exhausted and pleaded for an opportunity to go to a school again, though he made his argument as the need to find a suitable meister as early as he could. So, his parents agreed to enroll him at Shibusen, and the curriculum is mother provided him provided him with the skills and experience he needed to enroll as a one-star student.
Behind the strings
Alias: Aged Rain, though simply Rain or Rainy is fine.
Other characters: Gardenia Oslin
RP Sample:
Cecil looked around where he found himself; the middle of Death City. His eyes glanced at every minute detail he could differentiate from the visual noise of such a unique city. He brought his hand up to his neck, and tugged at his scarf as he looked in the direction of Shibusen, his brow furrowed in determination. "well, then. I suppose it is about time I got along my way. Whilst I would enjoy seeing more of this city, I haven't got time to waste; I must find a meister suitable for me, and I can't risk such a one wasting their time partnering with an inferior weapon whilst I'm idling about."
"So... this is really the time of my life I've been waiting for? Somehow, it doesn't quite feel like it. Surely there should be someone here to personally greet me. After all, I am a prodigy! Cecil Amier, Demon Weapon Extraordinaire!" He thought to himself, mildly irked by the distinct lack of fanfare upon his arrival. He took out his cell phone from his pocket, and looked back over at the last text he had received. "Hmph, " he scoffed, dissatisfied with the answer the text provided him. Which was none. All that it was, was his mother wishing him good luck on his first day of school. He stuffed the phone back into his pocket and flicked his hair back with a flourish of his hand. "I suppose I'll just have to make my own way through this, then. Couldn't be too difficult, for one such as me, after all."
