Post by Dash Paine on May 26, 2016 0:50:23 GMT
| ~ • ~ | Character Basics | ~ • ~ |
.:Name:.Dash Paine
.:Nick Name:. Dash
.:Affiliation:. Arker
.:Age:. 17| ~ • ~ | Appearance | ~ • ~ |
.:Physical Appearance:. Streamlined in comparison to the more burly men that grace the ranks of the guardsman, Dash's name seems a commonality in description of such a lean frame. Toned muscles that flex whenever he's without pause, the 17-year-old has obtained a build that places him at a bodily pinnacle that rivals topnotch as far as conditioning. Training, running, lifting weights---they all supplemented and stocked the charismatic youth up to meet the standards of his guardsman father, that always seem to crave just a little bit more out of their prospects. Did he excel? Now, arms are rigged with muscle, almost absent of excess fat, and there's a crispness that comes with cardio whenever he dares to brave solid footing about Earth's rocky terrain. Of course, there was an adjustment period in regards to the floating almost comatose-like in space, to the wide expanse of a rounded planet; not to mention the surplus of other things found stashed in the biosphere. In short, he's a toned runner who isn't short of muscle, yet being fleet of foot is one of his more blaring qualities.
.:Height:. 6'0"
.:Portrayed by:. Wade Poezyn| ~ • ~ | Personality | ~ • ~ |
.:Personality:. Mindset glazed with the topping ethics of a dedicated soldier; there is very little that can separate Dash Paine from an objective. Eager, worried with the that idealistic need to push himself past his known boundaries, his dedication as a guardsman makes him as professional as any other. His craft? Protecting, serving, maintaining the modesty of an adjoining cabin, all these qualities run top-tier in his mind, and would remain atop the loft whenever he crash landed unto planet Earth. Focused almost too eagerly, it sometimes seems that the 17-year-old has the intimidating eyesight of a bald eagle whenever he zeros in on something, and there is very little that can sway him from that object. The same could be said for sound decisions, mainly because he's as headstrong as any other, possibly even just a little bit more than most. Unless presented with a cumbersome patch of evidence, his beliefs are firmly rooted in his head like an elderly tree; immovable unless at the behest of nature itself.
For that? His immobile stance whenever he's made up his mind, Dash may oftentimes be painted the blaring color of an "asshole" by others who question his methods. Honestly, he would agree with the adjective in description of himself, and would be armed, at the ready, with a remark that would draw ire or humor from his aggressor. Wisecracking, unafraid to speak his mind whenever he feels it the opportune time, he's as outspoken of his opinion as any other. Perhaps, maybe even too much. Mouth like an unfiltered tap, there's no telling what will slip past his lips at any given moment. Were he to cast a hot iron to someone's feelings, the teenager would show no remorse, seeing as how he felt as if it was meant to be said, no matter if it was considerate of another's feelings or not. Douche, and rightfully a coined descriptor of him, yet Dash owns himself with limited room for error.
Though, think not that the solider does not care for the feelings of others nor their opinions. Quite the contrary. It is just such, that he only cares to exercise his right to free speech whenever possible, and that, unfortunately, includes nothing impeding thoughts from actually saying hurtful words. Yet, he doesn't just dismiss the ideas of others, nor does he just cast aside all ideas that aren't to his liking. It all happens on the mood of the guardsman, simply because of the way he was reared since he was a babe.
.:Special Skills:. Marksmanship. Peak physical conditioning. Studies of the Earth.| ~ • ~ | History | ~ • ~ |
.:Birthplace:. Ark Medical Station
.:Family:. Deborah Paine (deceased), Dennis Paine.
.:Occupation:. N/A
.:History:. Militaristic.
It seemed a dependable descriptor of his upbringing.
Though they were as closest to the sun as any other given the Ark, his life was the furthest thing away from overflowing with warming compassion. Difficulties during birth saw the exchange of his mother's life for his own. His father? Quite the decorated guardsman in his sea of accolades---he had seen his life swept away through an infant tidal wave. Disdain, contempt; they were all common residents of his eyes whenever he glared at his son. The loss of his mother was insurmountable, a daunting weight that Dash Paine shouldered heavily like Atlas by his father's own exertion. Footing the blame for his mother's death since his youth, his father was more of a drill sergeant than an actual father during his upbringing. Hoping to gain his father's long sought out approval, whatever task his sire threw his way, the adolescent would rush to meet the task, take it head on, and excel on whatever was sat on his plate.
It never got too full, because there was not a challenge that could be presented that he couldn't claim. Or, so he thought.
Smugness was an attribution that claimed him, something to rid his mind of the idea that his father loathed him. Conviction, fooling himself, rather, was the mainstay there. For a while? If he didn't think much of it, he could fool himself into believing that his mind and his heart were being pulled in two totally different directions. He could convince himself that he wasn't the object of his father's hate; that his mother hadn't died to bring something worse than she into the world. Because, that was oftentimes what he heard in his youth---lowly insults spewed by a drunken guardsman, wallowing in sorrow, the hugging stench of alcohol on his breath his only comfort. Unfortunately for the aspiring guardsman, that was as much of a reality as the sun bathed ultraviolet rays. His father hated him like no other, but there was something that he could do to return that lustrous shine to his eye whenever he talked to his son. So, he followed the footsteps of a path already woven before him, the occupation was generational, but his father had been the best guardsman of all of his forefathers. Hoping to acclimate himself into an icy tundra of his father's heart, he braved the unknown, but worked with backbreaking concentration to reach such a lofty goal.
Obtaining membership as a member of the guardsman was a feat that set the standard at 18. No matter how apathetically his father trained him, Dash would not be able to meet his lofty goals before he saw himself torn in his own decisions. Having a father figure seemed as bland a choice as any, and Dash hadn't even known that he desired such until he encountered John Ryder, a man who held a seat on the counsel during Chancellor Sydney's reign. Maybe, it had been the idea that he had yearned for a second child---a boy of his own---because the admiration between the two was jubilant since their first encounter. However, brief they may have been, but it had Dash smitten with the idea of actually having someone who was empathetic in his life, that cared about the feelings of others. It didn't last for long; perhaps it was a ploy to obtain an eye on his delinquent daughter, but the 17-year-old had taken the bait. Before he knew it, armed with training from his father's tutelage, he committed a crime that saw him docked with the ninety-nine juveniles with a course for Earth.| ~ • ~ | Member Info | ~ • ~ |
.:Name or Online Alias:. Dash
.:How Did You Find Us:. Site Advertisement
