|
about Myrr
| |||||||||
|
Registration Date: 06-06-2013
Last Visit: 07-30-2013 12:18 AM Total Posts 11 Played By: Tasha 
 Total EXP
|
|||||||||
| Myrrdin Zulon Borzhov's Info | |||||||||
| If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together. | |||||||||
|
general information
|
|||||||||
Relations:
Other Info:
| |||||||||
|
appearance
|
|||||||||
|
Reference
A behemoth of a magnificent specimen, his heart is at least three times the size of a normal canine heart, with much to divulge, with so much to give. The sheer size and weight of him is enough to send most scrambling to adjourn from his path, and yet for not a single worthy reason, for the beast is nothing more than a glorious gentle giant, standing at 5'11" and weighing 250lbs. Though he has not been young for many years, his face is youthful, marred only by the lines that wisdom and experience bring. The gentleman's visage, neck, and chest are doused in deep shades of royal purple and lavender, while all other portions of his body glow brilliantly with a neon, nearly xanthous yellow. His gaze of sunflower sweetness, soft, yet brimming with creativity and harmless mischief, is a window, not to his soul, for he is surely more private than that. His eyes do not lie, and yet they hold an infinite vat of information and knowledge, both of which he does not reveal unless he believes the listener is ready to hear it. | |||||||||
|
personality
| |||||||||
|
A complete and utter gentleman. He is a spiritual, and enlightened being, relishing the pleasures, and hardships of life with a serene smile and a soft, guttural laugh. He is a lavished being, one of sheer joy. Of course sadness creeps in during the appropriate eras of grief due to whatever reason. Death happened upon him when he was already a mature man, a noble man, one who accepted the change with little resistance, physical or mental. It is simply not in his nature to grieve for long periods of time. He is both young and old, an elderly guiding spirit channeling a vernal heart whose desires are rampant, and often not tucked away. He is indulgent on occasion, enjoying his food, and certainly whoever he has welcomed into his bedchambers. Nothing in his dogmatic fashion prohibits recreation, and those who do shelter themselves within the stony chasms of their resentment and isolation will receive no sympathy, and no understanding from him. To men, he is polite, but to women, he is especially exuberant. He is the handsome older man the girls in the stories aspire to marry. He flirts without always meaning to, a magnetic gem that attracts the fairer sex, and sometimes even the not so fair sex. Delicious candor and humor, food and wine, enchanting discussions of philosophy and magic await those who find themselves in his company. And while there are in fact two sides to each coin, one light, and other dark, he prefers to remain in the light, almost always, where he can follow nature's divine footsteps into the forested oblivion of the horizon.
| |||||||||
|
history
| |||||||||
|
Myrrdin died shortly after his fifth birthday. He was not murdered, he did not commit suicide, but he did know suffering. Month after month, his disease worsened, and not even the most powerful herbs the shamans offered could make his body relinquish the searing pain he felt throughout his starving body. He would often lay at the mouth of the cave where he was isolated and cared for, and wish he could just walk away, and never return, for he had to see the world. He did not know there was an afterlife at the time. When he breathed his last breath, a lolling cloud rolled over his eyelids, and he suddenly gasped, akin to the breath of air one takes when they are first born. Immediately he noticed there was no pain. Not only that, but he stood, and could walk as easily as before he contracted the disease. It was a miracle. A gift. There was an afterlife, free of pain, free of anguish. He had truly been reborn. And cherishing the wonder, and renascence he felt as he rose from the ground, dead, but at the same time, very much alive. It never even occurred to him that this was a curse. For this, was a gift, through and through.
| |||||||||
| Sister Sites |
 |
| Affiliates |
|