Post by Deleted on Jan 26, 2015 21:42:19 GMT
Name:
Age: 36 (Andalite); 25 (Human; old to be attending university, though it took some time for him to be mentally ready)
Species: Andalite
Gender: Male, with some feminine qualities
Controller: No.
Appearance:
Personality:
History:
The eldest twin child of Alloran and his wife Jahar, Jamilan-Semitur-Misheil – along with his sibling – was born in a time of peace. As he grew older, the visits from his father grew sparser, as the then-young Warrior was busy protecting the galaxy. Despite this fact, he had a massive impact upon his children. Jamilan cherished any time they spent together as a whole family. He was a brave and bold child, and he always knew his path, that he wanted to be a great warrior. He practised even at a very young age, studying tactics and tailblade-fighting. Ambitious, he wanted someday to be a great hero. He studied up on the great heroes of legend, but his true hero was closer to home. Alloran was his greatest inspiration. His father was the role model of his life, that one warrior of amaranthine strength and courage. Someday, his father would be a great Prince, he believed, and the young Andalite would follow in his father’s footsteps.
He would follow in his footsteps, indeed, but alas, not in the same way.
When he and his sibling were of a young age, their father was permanently disgraced and court-martialed, a War-Prince now only in name. Jamilan was not only upset, he was enraged. The Yeerks were his species’ shame, their fault – as the now highest law, Seerow’s Kindness, had been put in place following the Yeerk insurrection. Being the family of the War-Prince, they learned what it was that he was so shamed for – the releasing of the Quantum Virus upon the Hork-Bajir people. Jamilan was devastated that it had come to that, though as a child he couldn’t fully grasp the implications. As former friends turned against him, as they said horrible things about his family and his father – whom he still held high on a pedestal – Jamilan grew resentful. It wasn’t long before only a few stood with him – his sibling, his friend Forlin, and an amount of young Andalites he could count on one hand. He had grown up raised on the ideals of Andalite society, yet he was quickly shunning them as a result of the harsh lessons life had given him. It wasn’t to get any easier.
At the Academy, Forlin was gifted and creative, something Jamilan could never say about himself. But he had only one goal in mind, and that was to become a warrior. Not the Andalite ideal, not some artist-thinker-family-man, but a trained killer. He sought to learn everything he could about the Yeerks. He slacked in classes such as art and design, only doing the necessary amount of work and little more.
One of the things that infuriated him so much was how the other students would focus on irrelevant things – such as girls. Jamilan rarely slacked at anything he found useful, and was always alert and aware. Generally, he used it as practise for when he would be a soldier, though he wasn’t afraid to speak his mind. Mathematics, he’d struggle with, but refused to ask for help beyond what was offered.
Because his father’s reputation bled over to the family, he found other Andalites would often tease him. Jamilan, at first, responded extremely negatively to this. Tail-fighting was one of his talents, and many a young, arrogant student was found with Jamilan standing atop him, blade pressed to his throat. Of course, it was Jamilan who would end up the one in trouble. When his drill instructor told him what a breach of discipline this was, he would take it to heart. He learned to bury his emotions, hiding behind a cool exterior. Now, instead of becoming enraged at the fact that they dared to challenge him, Jamilan smirked. He could take them all, he was certain, and it was positive thoughts like this that helped him to hold his head high. Of course, this wasn’t the healthiest of options, as often the negativity was buried beneath his pride, and would come bubbling forth in a show of fury that would land him detentions and extra duty.
His career path was made even more abundantly clear as he progressed through his studies. He was already extremely knowledgeable about the Yeerks, they having been his primary focus for many years. It wasn’t a choice that he had expected, but an instructor presented the opportunity along with the chance to take additional courses geared towards military espionage. He asked Jamilan to carefully consider it, but the young Andalite already knew what his answer was.
<Sign me up immediately. I will do it.>
Tail-fighting was Jamilan’s favourite activity by far. Every year at school, he would participate at the tournament, and one time, he ended up the actual champion. This had the unintentional effect of winning for him the affections of Cathra-Bellari-Astaron, a pretty and talented Andalite girl. What amazed him about her was that she proved to be an estreen during the advanced morphing class. Forlin seemed to have even more appreciation for her talent, being an admirer of the arts. But he wasn’t jealous, instead telling Jamilan that he was happy for him. Things seemed to be looking up, at least somewhat. He was excited about graduating from the Academy and becoming an Aristh and thus eventually a full warrior. He wanted to make his family -- and especially his father -- proud. Perhaps someday, he and father could restore their honour.
It was a proud moment when he graduated. Jamilan was an Aristh and had been assigned a Prince, Iranel. It was not the glamour it might seem to be. Iranel clearly didn’t care much for having Jamilan under his command. <You’re just like the others, Aristh. So hot-headed. You think you know it all...> It turned out, as he learned, that Iranel had lost his whole family to the Yeerks. And his brother had been killed in the Hork-Bajir War. Nevertheless, Jamilan appreciated the lessons his commander taught him. Many had suffered under the Yeerks, and Iranel knew what was at stake. Cathra engaged to him, and they were to be wed soon, when tragedy struck. First of all, he learned that Forlin and his family had disappeared, without a trace. And then, even worse news. He received the message in the form of a timid Andalite courier. She did not know how to bring the news to him, merely handing him the missive.
After he devastated her with the news, Jahar curled within herself. Jamilan tried to comfort her, tried to help pull her out of it, telling her his father wouldn’t want her to be like this, but it was to no avail. He became more and more frustrated, and then when he reached a boiling point he nearly struck her -- his own mother -- and Jamilan fled, afraid of something for the first time.
He buried himself in his career. He didn’t even need to know that Cathra had called off the engagement. He wouldn’t hear her, not wanting the distraction. Whether she did it of her own choice, or was pressured by her family to not join with him, he didn’t know. He didn’t care. He was through with people. He preferred to work alone anyway, and it was perfect for the way he approached his career. Few other Andalites would want to think as he did, but Jamilan felt they’d all turned on him and his family. He devoted himself to the study of Yeerks in his spare time. He would say that, <To understand your enemy, you need to be like them.> This formed the basis of his philosophy. After proving himself capable and being promoted from Aristh to Warrior, he requested an assignment to the Yeerk homeworld, and it was granted to him -- likely due to the fact that most people were requesting to be transferred off of that world. Few Andalites wanted to be near the slugs.
He and a fellow infiltrator, Baravan, were on their way deep into Yeerk space to spy, when in z-space their ship was hit by another hurtling through the anti-space, and it was pulled along. The ship sustained damage and when they left z-space, they were barely able to find a suitable landing. They crashed on the planet’s surface. And that was when Jamilan’s life changed.
He barely managed to pull himself from the wreckage. Baravan’s head had been crushed; there was no way that he was alive. With only his shredder and a partially-damaged datapad with his name and some notes on it, Jamilan limped from the scene, collapsing after about an hour of running. When he woke, he had forgotten who he was.
Jamilan met a kindly human woman in the forest, eventually, after a time of subsisting. His memories about morphing where jogged by mentions of it on the datapad, and he took a human identity. He learned how to become independent as a human under Susanne’s roof. She never abused him, she treated him like he was her son, and eventually grew used to the notion of him being alien. To her, he was a person and didn’t need to be defined by what he was, but who he was. Jamilan -- or James/Jamie as his human name was -- had difficulty acclimatizing and it took some struggle for him to grow in maturity. But it was inevitably a good one.
He started by attending fifth grade, moving on to middle school, then to high school, improving as he progressed. He learned to drive, he attended college with the intent of transferring, and he applied -- late on in his life -- for university. It was his first time living away from Susanna, and Jamilan was terrified. They managed to get him a large dorm room. He...acclimatized to university life, although it wasn’t easy.
He made friends, however, and little did he know that following those friends one day would change his life forever. He didn’t reveal he was an Andalite though until they decided they would fight the Yeerks. He was terrified, but something in him compelled him to join the fight, and he rallied under Amarante’s leadership.
When they went into the depths of the Yeerk pool was when he realised whom his father truly was...
RP Sample:
Your Name: Forlin
RP Experience: 13 Yeerks
Your Age: 27
Anything Else/Notes:
Oh, and forgot to mention! Approved by Amarante Caitir
Age: 36 (Andalite); 25 (Human; old to be attending university, though it took some time for him to be mentally ready)
Species: Andalite
Gender: Male, with some feminine qualities
Controller: No.
Appearance:
Personality:
History:
The eldest twin child of Alloran and his wife Jahar, Jamilan-Semitur-Misheil – along with his sibling – was born in a time of peace. As he grew older, the visits from his father grew sparser, as the then-young Warrior was busy protecting the galaxy. Despite this fact, he had a massive impact upon his children. Jamilan cherished any time they spent together as a whole family. He was a brave and bold child, and he always knew his path, that he wanted to be a great warrior. He practised even at a very young age, studying tactics and tailblade-fighting. Ambitious, he wanted someday to be a great hero. He studied up on the great heroes of legend, but his true hero was closer to home. Alloran was his greatest inspiration. His father was the role model of his life, that one warrior of amaranthine strength and courage. Someday, his father would be a great Prince, he believed, and the young Andalite would follow in his father’s footsteps.
He would follow in his footsteps, indeed, but alas, not in the same way.
When he and his sibling were of a young age, their father was permanently disgraced and court-martialed, a War-Prince now only in name. Jamilan was not only upset, he was enraged. The Yeerks were his species’ shame, their fault – as the now highest law, Seerow’s Kindness, had been put in place following the Yeerk insurrection. Being the family of the War-Prince, they learned what it was that he was so shamed for – the releasing of the Quantum Virus upon the Hork-Bajir people. Jamilan was devastated that it had come to that, though as a child he couldn’t fully grasp the implications. As former friends turned against him, as they said horrible things about his family and his father – whom he still held high on a pedestal – Jamilan grew resentful. It wasn’t long before only a few stood with him – his sibling, his friend Forlin, and an amount of young Andalites he could count on one hand. He had grown up raised on the ideals of Andalite society, yet he was quickly shunning them as a result of the harsh lessons life had given him. It wasn’t to get any easier.
At the Academy, Forlin was gifted and creative, something Jamilan could never say about himself. But he had only one goal in mind, and that was to become a warrior. Not the Andalite ideal, not some artist-thinker-family-man, but a trained killer. He sought to learn everything he could about the Yeerks. He slacked in classes such as art and design, only doing the necessary amount of work and little more.
<What is this?> his teacher asked one time. <It looks terrifying. Why did you design it that way?>
<If it is terrifying, then I have done a good job,> he said, matter-of-factly. <I based it off the design of a Yeerk Blade ship. Our enemy isn’t going to respond to beauty and frill. Make it look like something that can rip a Blade ship in half. Moreover, something that will leave the Yeerks stranded, pool-less, for more than a feeding cycle. Let them be pondering their imminent Fugue as they try to attack it.>
<Not everything is about fighting your enemy,> the teacher replied.
<Tell that to the Hork-Bajir, and the other species the Yeerks have enslaved. Tell that to the warriors who have died in this war, and their families – probably because people like you try to get them to waste their lives on frill and pomp like...that.> He jabbed a finger at Forlin’s design. He felt that his friend was wasting his time, when he could be training. He himself just wanted to get out of here, but he felt the teacher would hide behind his authority. <When they could be learning to kill.>
Suffice to say, Jamilan was right, and would find himself being disciplined for the things he had said in the design class.
<If it is terrifying, then I have done a good job,> he said, matter-of-factly. <I based it off the design of a Yeerk Blade ship. Our enemy isn’t going to respond to beauty and frill. Make it look like something that can rip a Blade ship in half. Moreover, something that will leave the Yeerks stranded, pool-less, for more than a feeding cycle. Let them be pondering their imminent Fugue as they try to attack it.>
<Not everything is about fighting your enemy,> the teacher replied.
<Tell that to the Hork-Bajir, and the other species the Yeerks have enslaved. Tell that to the warriors who have died in this war, and their families – probably because people like you try to get them to waste their lives on frill and pomp like...that.> He jabbed a finger at Forlin’s design. He felt that his friend was wasting his time, when he could be training. He himself just wanted to get out of here, but he felt the teacher would hide behind his authority. <When they could be learning to kill.>
Suffice to say, Jamilan was right, and would find himself being disciplined for the things he had said in the design class.
One of the things that infuriated him so much was how the other students would focus on irrelevant things – such as girls. Jamilan rarely slacked at anything he found useful, and was always alert and aware. Generally, he used it as practise for when he would be a soldier, though he wasn’t afraid to speak his mind. Mathematics, he’d struggle with, but refused to ask for help beyond what was offered.
Because his father’s reputation bled over to the family, he found other Andalites would often tease him. Jamilan, at first, responded extremely negatively to this. Tail-fighting was one of his talents, and many a young, arrogant student was found with Jamilan standing atop him, blade pressed to his throat. Of course, it was Jamilan who would end up the one in trouble. When his drill instructor told him what a breach of discipline this was, he would take it to heart. He learned to bury his emotions, hiding behind a cool exterior. Now, instead of becoming enraged at the fact that they dared to challenge him, Jamilan smirked. He could take them all, he was certain, and it was positive thoughts like this that helped him to hold his head high. Of course, this wasn’t the healthiest of options, as often the negativity was buried beneath his pride, and would come bubbling forth in a show of fury that would land him detentions and extra duty.
His career path was made even more abundantly clear as he progressed through his studies. He was already extremely knowledgeable about the Yeerks, they having been his primary focus for many years. It wasn’t a choice that he had expected, but an instructor presented the opportunity along with the chance to take additional courses geared towards military espionage. He asked Jamilan to carefully consider it, but the young Andalite already knew what his answer was.
<Sign me up immediately. I will do it.>
Tail-fighting was Jamilan’s favourite activity by far. Every year at school, he would participate at the tournament, and one time, he ended up the actual champion. This had the unintentional effect of winning for him the affections of Cathra-Bellari-Astaron, a pretty and talented Andalite girl. What amazed him about her was that she proved to be an estreen during the advanced morphing class. Forlin seemed to have even more appreciation for her talent, being an admirer of the arts. But he wasn’t jealous, instead telling Jamilan that he was happy for him. Things seemed to be looking up, at least somewhat. He was excited about graduating from the Academy and becoming an Aristh and thus eventually a full warrior. He wanted to make his family -- and especially his father -- proud. Perhaps someday, he and father could restore their honour.
It was a proud moment when he graduated. Jamilan was an Aristh and had been assigned a Prince, Iranel. It was not the glamour it might seem to be. Iranel clearly didn’t care much for having Jamilan under his command. <You’re just like the others, Aristh. So hot-headed. You think you know it all...> It turned out, as he learned, that Iranel had lost his whole family to the Yeerks. And his brother had been killed in the Hork-Bajir War. Nevertheless, Jamilan appreciated the lessons his commander taught him. Many had suffered under the Yeerks, and Iranel knew what was at stake. Cathra engaged to him, and they were to be wed soon, when tragedy struck. First of all, he learned that Forlin and his family had disappeared, without a trace. And then, even worse news. He received the message in the form of a timid Andalite courier. She did not know how to bring the news to him, merely handing him the missive.
His father...a casualty of war.
And not any normal casualty. He had not died fighting for his people. He had been captured. He had been infested. His father was the first Andalite-Controller...the Abomination. He couldn’t believe it. He stared at the datapad, reading the words but rejecting from his memory. The moment of acceptance was when he snapped.
FWAP!
His fail flew forward, and if she had dodged a moment sooner, her head would have rolled from her shoulders. <AAAAAH! Jamilan, please, stop, I don’t mean you any harm, I swear.>
Jamilan stared at her for a moment, then at the datapad. The datapad containing the missive that contained the words which had turned his world -- his perfect world where his father was his bastion of strength -- upside-down. His father was a slave to the Yeerks. And here he was, stuck on this damned planet, unable to do a thing about it. Unable to free him...or avenge him. As was his duty, now, as the eldest son.
FWAP!
His tail again flew forward, as the courier stood watching, her sides trembling. The datapad snapped in two, dropping to the grass. Jamilan turned and ran. He did not know where. He did not care where. Once in the forest, he stopped, catching his breath before blue-and-violet feathers began to rise from his fur...
The many-winged Kafit-bird took flight, its destination Jamilan’s family’s scoop…
And not any normal casualty. He had not died fighting for his people. He had been captured. He had been infested. His father was the first Andalite-Controller...the Abomination. He couldn’t believe it. He stared at the datapad, reading the words but rejecting from his memory. The moment of acceptance was when he snapped.
FWAP!
His fail flew forward, and if she had dodged a moment sooner, her head would have rolled from her shoulders. <AAAAAH! Jamilan, please, stop, I don’t mean you any harm, I swear.>
Jamilan stared at her for a moment, then at the datapad. The datapad containing the missive that contained the words which had turned his world -- his perfect world where his father was his bastion of strength -- upside-down. His father was a slave to the Yeerks. And here he was, stuck on this damned planet, unable to do a thing about it. Unable to free him...or avenge him. As was his duty, now, as the eldest son.
FWAP!
His tail again flew forward, as the courier stood watching, her sides trembling. The datapad snapped in two, dropping to the grass. Jamilan turned and ran. He did not know where. He did not care where. Once in the forest, he stopped, catching his breath before blue-and-violet feathers began to rise from his fur...
The many-winged Kafit-bird took flight, its destination Jamilan’s family’s scoop…
After he devastated her with the news, Jahar curled within herself. Jamilan tried to comfort her, tried to help pull her out of it, telling her his father wouldn’t want her to be like this, but it was to no avail. He became more and more frustrated, and then when he reached a boiling point he nearly struck her -- his own mother -- and Jamilan fled, afraid of something for the first time.
He buried himself in his career. He didn’t even need to know that Cathra had called off the engagement. He wouldn’t hear her, not wanting the distraction. Whether she did it of her own choice, or was pressured by her family to not join with him, he didn’t know. He didn’t care. He was through with people. He preferred to work alone anyway, and it was perfect for the way he approached his career. Few other Andalites would want to think as he did, but Jamilan felt they’d all turned on him and his family. He devoted himself to the study of Yeerks in his spare time. He would say that, <To understand your enemy, you need to be like them.> This formed the basis of his philosophy. After proving himself capable and being promoted from Aristh to Warrior, he requested an assignment to the Yeerk homeworld, and it was granted to him -- likely due to the fact that most people were requesting to be transferred off of that world. Few Andalites wanted to be near the slugs.
He and a fellow infiltrator, Baravan, were on their way deep into Yeerk space to spy, when in z-space their ship was hit by another hurtling through the anti-space, and it was pulled along. The ship sustained damage and when they left z-space, they were barely able to find a suitable landing. They crashed on the planet’s surface. And that was when Jamilan’s life changed.
He barely managed to pull himself from the wreckage. Baravan’s head had been crushed; there was no way that he was alive. With only his shredder and a partially-damaged datapad with his name and some notes on it, Jamilan limped from the scene, collapsing after about an hour of running. When he woke, he had forgotten who he was.
Jamilan met a kindly human woman in the forest, eventually, after a time of subsisting. His memories about morphing where jogged by mentions of it on the datapad, and he took a human identity. He learned how to become independent as a human under Susanne’s roof. She never abused him, she treated him like he was her son, and eventually grew used to the notion of him being alien. To her, he was a person and didn’t need to be defined by what he was, but who he was. Jamilan -- or James/Jamie as his human name was -- had difficulty acclimatizing and it took some struggle for him to grow in maturity. But it was inevitably a good one.
He started by attending fifth grade, moving on to middle school, then to high school, improving as he progressed. He learned to drive, he attended college with the intent of transferring, and he applied -- late on in his life -- for university. It was his first time living away from Susanna, and Jamilan was terrified. They managed to get him a large dorm room. He...acclimatized to university life, although it wasn’t easy.
He made friends, however, and little did he know that following those friends one day would change his life forever. He didn’t reveal he was an Andalite though until they decided they would fight the Yeerks. He was terrified, but something in him compelled him to join the fight, and he rallied under Amarante’s leadership.
When they went into the depths of the Yeerk pool was when he realised whom his father truly was...
RP Sample:
The restaurant that served the spicy chicken wings was his favourite. Jamilan often found himself inhaling several varieties of wings. And with university flex money for food, who wouldn't? Jamilan had often considered getting stuck in his human morph. He could escape the sheer amount of different he felt towards others. But there were people. People like him. They could morph, and they could fight. Just like him. He felt, for once, a feeling of belonging among a group. But with that was a certain amount of paranoia.
He had been looking over the menu; he hadn't seen the actress. Her approach startled him. "Hey, James," she said, a smile on her lips. She knew who he was, of course -- though now that anyone could be a Controller, that was really unnerving. "Would you like something to drink?"
Jamilan looked up at her, a bit dumbfounded. "Uh…I'm going to get a lunch special. Sorry, just a bit distracted."
"It's okay, James. What would you like?"
"I'd like the Buffalo salad special. Oh, and I'd like to order a basket of chips." He felt like just eating, and eating, and eating…though he was sure that would draw attention. Well, he'd just seem like a bit of a glutton right now, and he'd always eaten a lot here.
"And what about your drink? Doctor Pepper, as usual?"
"Yeah," he replied. His eyes moved to her forehead. He wondered if this waitress, Katy, was a Controller. It was possible they could be among anyone in here, however.
"I'll be right out with it and your chips," she said with a smile.
"Thanks, Katy." As soon as she left, he slid his earbuds into his ear, and started listening to his music, as he scrolled through the news on his phone. He wished it could be just a normal day…though, he supposed this was as 'normal' as it would get. Heck, it could be that today wasn't normal, and they'd have another mission soon. As much as he didn't want one, he saw the necessity -- and something in his Andalite bones cried out to prove himself.
He had been looking over the menu; he hadn't seen the actress. Her approach startled him. "Hey, James," she said, a smile on her lips. She knew who he was, of course -- though now that anyone could be a Controller, that was really unnerving. "Would you like something to drink?"
Jamilan looked up at her, a bit dumbfounded. "Uh…I'm going to get a lunch special. Sorry, just a bit distracted."
"It's okay, James. What would you like?"
"I'd like the Buffalo salad special. Oh, and I'd like to order a basket of chips." He felt like just eating, and eating, and eating…though he was sure that would draw attention. Well, he'd just seem like a bit of a glutton right now, and he'd always eaten a lot here.
"And what about your drink? Doctor Pepper, as usual?"
"Yeah," he replied. His eyes moved to her forehead. He wondered if this waitress, Katy, was a Controller. It was possible they could be among anyone in here, however.
"I'll be right out with it and your chips," she said with a smile.
"Thanks, Katy." As soon as she left, he slid his earbuds into his ear, and started listening to his music, as he scrolled through the news on his phone. He wished it could be just a normal day…though, he supposed this was as 'normal' as it would get. Heck, it could be that today wasn't normal, and they'd have another mission soon. As much as he didn't want one, he saw the necessity -- and something in his Andalite bones cried out to prove himself.
Your Name: Forlin
RP Experience: 13 Yeerks
Your Age: 27
Anything Else/Notes:
Oh, and forgot to mention! Approved by Amarante Caitir
