Dainivhir's Workshop

[Dainivhir Valeport]

Stuffies.

 

[Dainivhir Valeport]

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Ambitions of a simpler life torn asunder​

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GENERAL INFORMATION​

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Name: Dainivhir Maela XIII Valeport
Alias(es): High Count, Thirteen, Bubbles, Dain, The Unexpected Heir
Rank: High Count of Cerevessia
Age: 26 GSY
Homeworld: Confracta
Citizenship: Cerevessian
Affiliation: The Second Triumvirate
Occupation: Triumvirate Head
Force Sensitive: Yes

FAMILIAL CONNECTIONS​

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Father: His High Eminence Visstfara Maela Valeport
Mother: Her Highness Iridenia Jesolo Valeport
Siblings: Setja Fragama IX Valeport (Brother), Ferrad Aesir Valeport (Brother), Beyja Eptir IV Valeport (Brother), Ferri Vara III Valeport (Sister)
Extended Family: Far too numerous to count
Romantic Interest: Single

PHYSICAL INFORMATION​

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Species: Cerevessian
Gender: Male
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 158.5lb
Build: Ectomorph
Hair: Golden Blonde
Eyes: Royal blue
Cybernetics: --
Notable Features: Severely burned hands
Status: Alive

PSYCHOLOGICAL INFORMATION​

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Sanity: 80%
Alignment: Lawful Wealthy
Personality Type: Rich
Tarot Card: Rich
Zodiac: Pretend stuff.
Virtues: Rich
Vices: Smelly

STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES​

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+ Artistic Endaouvers: Art is one of the many few true joys of life. That which cannot be tainted and taken away from you. Since his youth as a happy-go-lucky child, he has craved one thing paramount: a simple life lived in isolation among the arts. Today this has left him with a creative streak, and the means to express them in all aspects of his life.

+ Scholar's Mind: Most go out of their way to learn and absorb information, some take this as a way of life. A fulfillment of being. Hungry for knowledge and dedicated to documenting and preserving it, he is often lost in thought, however, just as often finds the answer he needs locked away in a tome as old as time itself.

+ Charisma on Command: Describing the man as a Ruthless charmer is perhaps one of the truest things one can really know about the secretive count. Able to charm a pearl from a Krayt Dragon and perfectly aware of it, Dainivhir prefers to make friends of enemies and family of friends.

+ - A prison of the mind: A common trap to which entire cohorts fall prey, he spends his time lost within the recesses of his own mind, contemplating things that were, things that will be and perhaps at time complete fantasies. If nothing else can be said for it, it produces an individual who is at least thoughtful by nature.

+ - Paradise lost: Dain had never expected to take the crown, nor was he prepared to. Holding no higher ambition than that of a simpler life he approaches the point of leadership with a soft and pragmatic hand, ever mindful of his people, but lost in the maze of politics.

- Aimless apathy: Uninspired things are often of the miserable sort. At times Dain is aimless or acts mindlessly, not in the stupid foolish way, in the way of a man who cares not for his own fate. Forgetful, Daydreaming, Isolated. This has led Dain to the habit of often embarking on adventures and journeys, abandoning his duties to his Little Sister or Council.

- Resplendent Idealist: Beliefs shape the person, he believes that he can be both kind and a ruler at the same time, to bring forth both prosperity without suffering. A master of half-measures and second guesses, familiar with the realm of regret, often unable to do that which must be done.

- Obsessive: The entirety of one's being focused so painfully unto a single point now bearing all definitions of that which once called an entire individual home is by no means a healthy tendency. Here it is all too common, finding it all too easy to slip into that comforting embrace.

BACKGROUND INFORMATION​

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-Born Dainivhir Maela Valeport the Thirteenth of his Name - Fifth Child of High Eminence Visstfara Maela Valeport, High Count of Cerevessia and Representative to his people within the Triumvirate. He was the least likely to follow his Father to the throne which is perhaps why his name bears the reality of a joke. Dainivhirs were always rulers, Dainivhir the Great first of his name was responsible for the birth of the First Triumvirate, and the placement of his house on the throne in perpetuity a man so important no other bore his name until he himself had long passed into the realms of myth and legend, a harmless joke on the part of his mother - fate did not share her impish sense of humor.

-Time is a cruel taskmaster, conscripting the hearts of mortals leading them into the cold embrace of age, embarked on an endless trek into the halls of Death. Her will cannot be defied, and she changes us all. Dainivhir was once a happy youth, once full of splendor and joy in equal measure, a happy blonde baby. The first to make a friend and the last to say goodbye, he was loved by everyone even if he was regarded as somewhat simple when one embodies the very definition of a word they become it - he was Bubbly in every way. It was an uneventful youth full of pretension and pomp, of balls and feasts and other such courtly events. Of press conferences and media attention. He never paid it any mind, smiling when he had to, speaking the words of his father when he must, running away with whoever we could sink his claws into for the week. Unlike most of the force sensitives of Confracta, his family shielding him from their service, realizing the boy was entirely unfit for such a life, he was one who simply didn't belong so he would, he must go untrained.

-Traditions define nobility, and before he could realize what was going on he had been shipped off. Taken in to serve as Page and later Squire, to be raised for the next few years by a family not his own that of the Ifradeli House Dorlan. In them he found strangers, but ones he grew to love. Now he was not the Fifth Son of the High Count, he was but a page to be treated as any other, to be allowed to become the person he wanted to be. It was a cocktail, the perfect storm to wreak havoc and leave behind in the chaos a new man, a changed and refined man. The happy bubbly child became a fiendishly charismatic adult. The curious child shaped himself into a scholar and a poet. The adventurous streak manifested into a cult personality, famous for his grandiose escapades through Ifradel and as many broken hearts to match. It is in times like those that the cold hand of Time can be seen as a warm embrace, but wise men know to beware a sharp smile.

-So it was, as things will be. The boy came home a man, and found the world as changed as he was. His father had grown old, his mother once lithe and full of youth was now the same active woman trapped in the bed of unwelcome years. His brothers grew distant and quiet, some ambitious and envious, others to wistful dreams as he himself had fallen. It was all dreadfully past, each blow leaving behind it before the next far too little time to recover. His father passed away and so the crown fell to Setja. The young man was to be coronated as the next High Count, but fell ill and passed away, taken from them in his prime. Soon the authorities would declare it foul play and less than a week after his Brother Ferrad, a man of the quiet absorbed kind was hauled away for Murder and Treason. His next Brother Beyja vanished in the night, dock-workers and ship crews whispered that he ran away with some girl, deep into the darkness of the unknown galaxy. It was a cold night, the stone walls radiating uncomfortably. It always felt haunted to live where thousands had died, awake staring at the ceiling with the anxious feeling that something had gone wrong. That is when he received the news. In a short week he had transitioned from the quiet poet of the family to Heir Apparent, in one short week his life had been plucked from his hands and replaced with another.

-Coronation day came. Souls were there in the thousands to witness, even the Ifradeli had been dragged into attendance. It passed like a blur for him, the twenty-two-year-old forced into the responsibility of his people. Their care became his new responsibility, his words now had to be theirs. In a moment his life had been stripped away and replaced with another. When the crown fell to his head it was a struggle not to fall sick, not to flee, not to claw free from the cage. He could not do it, he could not muster the strength or courage, the punishment would just fall to another. He would be strong for them, his family could bear no further loss. A decision for which he would despise himself endlessly.

-In the six years since his rise to High Count, he has settled into the role. He bears not the wisdom of his father nor the courage of his eldest brother. His rule has been a quiet one, a simple one. A soul-crushing one, but one free of just enough responsibility that he could occasionally find himself lost, slipped away into a new adventure, even ones as simple as an unguarded walk through the city. There is but one thing special to his rule, he is one beloved by the people. The realm prospers under his pragmatic reign and he has grown into a caring ruler. A symbol behind which his people rally. He will never be as wise as his father, as brave as his brother, or cunning as another - perhaps he can become as great as his Name.

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RECENT EVENTS

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Arc One -- Lucky Number Three (Ordered Chronologically)
xxx - 'xxx' (w. xxx)
xxx

FURTHER ITEMS OF NOTE​

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Apparel: Clothes
Weaponry: Pure charm baby - Blaster Pistol (Because similes sometimes just don't work.)
Vessels: --
Property: The City of Valeport


Formatted by [member="Runi Verin"]