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Created on 2018-01-08 03:37:57 (#3330647), last updated 2024-08-27 (39 weeks ago)
22 comments received, 265 comments posted
5 Journal Entries, 10 Tags, 0 Memories, 15 Icons Uploaded
RP account for Tsutomu Fujisawa from the Balmung Server in Final Fantasy XIV
Mun and Muse both 21+
--
A young midlander, aged somewhere in his twenties, walks alone through the bustling city streets. While his youth is apparent, upon closer inspection, certain features could cause doubt. Around his eyes are small wrinkles, resting on dark bags--light, but present. His hair is jet black, but strands of gray are visible to anyone who catches a close glance. Two scars adorn his face: one on his jaw, and one across his right eye, permanently splitting his eyebrow in two. This Hyur has seen better days.
He is dressed in a modest, robe-looking clothing. A yukata. He is not from this land. Dark brown like his eyes, its a very plain outfit, loose enough that it shows some of his chest, and the scars that rest upon it.
He nods and smiles to those who walk by and greet him. He is well mannered, though a bit skittish and jumpy; easily startled when some louder residents give him a booming hello. But anyone of sharper wit can easily tell that it's all merely obligation. There is no ill intention in his behavior, but there's no genuineness either.
Beneath the polite facade is a distant soul. The midlander walks alone for a reason. He wishes for it--he desires solitude. He feels undeserving of either love or friendship.
And yet, even deeper beneath the brooding shell is a small voice crying out for help. He says he wishes to be alone, but truthfully, he is lonely. He is starved for affection, for love. He desires to be wanted, to be accepted for who he is.
For a moment, one can glimpse that loneliness in his aloof brown eyes as he greets them, and walks by.
Mun and Muse both 21+
--
He is dressed in a modest, robe-looking clothing. A yukata. He is not from this land. Dark brown like his eyes, its a very plain outfit, loose enough that it shows some of his chest, and the scars that rest upon it.
He nods and smiles to those who walk by and greet him. He is well mannered, though a bit skittish and jumpy; easily startled when some louder residents give him a booming hello. But anyone of sharper wit can easily tell that it's all merely obligation. There is no ill intention in his behavior, but there's no genuineness either.
Beneath the polite facade is a distant soul. The midlander walks alone for a reason. He wishes for it--he desires solitude. He feels undeserving of either love or friendship.
And yet, even deeper beneath the brooding shell is a small voice crying out for help. He says he wishes to be alone, but truthfully, he is lonely. He is starved for affection, for love. He desires to be wanted, to be accepted for who he is.
For a moment, one can glimpse that loneliness in his aloof brown eyes as he greets them, and walks by.
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