Post by ryuki on Aug 18, 2008 18:10:41 GMT -6
Picture: None. >>
Alias: Hallow (not a State Alchemist name, just another name he goes by)
Name: Lan Soro
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Weight: Without coat, 174 lbs
Height: 6 foot and a half an inch
Hair: Black, cut raggedly at about chin length, with unkempt bangs. It looks a bit greasy. He also has a stubble of a beard, though it just looks more like he hasn't taken the time to shave in a few days.
Eyes: Dark brown, nearly black.
Personality: Lan cares about only one person; himself. Everyone else can go to heck in a handbasket, as far as he's concerned. Everything he does is to further himself and his own needs, and he's not above back stabbing anyone to get where he wants to be. Fighting, for him, is a joy in and of itself, but he's not one out to look for stronger people to fight, either. It's utterly beating your opponent, that last look on their face when they've realized they've been beaten; that's what he looks for. If the opponent is stronger than he expected, or if the fight seems to be going south, he has no problem with making a "tactical retreat". Even so, the reason he's really in the mercenary business is for money. Fighting and killing is the only thing he's really any good at, and he's not about to start trying to go into another trade when there's so much to be had in the markets of Amestris. It's a fighting country, after all. In general, though, he's fairly cynical towards other people. He likes to taunt those he's fighting if he gets a chance, and is one to brag quite a bit. He also enjoys verbal arguments, especially if he can get the other person really going (in other words, he'd have a lot of fun with Ed). He himself has a surprisingly even temper and cares little of what others think.
Physical Description: Lan stands pretty tall, but he doesn't exactly tower over most men, either. He has a fairly lithe frame, and though you can't see it much under his clothes, he's very muscular as well. His face, framed by his mane of black hair, is rather long and angular, with a hooked, hawkish nose. Then, of course, he has his stubble of a beard and almond shaped brown eyes, which, combined with his pale skin and black hair, proclaim him to be from the country to the east of Amestris. He wears a ragged coat that may once have been black, but has since been worn until it is a dull, dirty gray. Underneath that is a black tanktop and rather baggy tan pants held up with a belt of plain, frayed-looking rope. These, too, are dirty, though, and much darker than they were originally. On his feet are worn brown boots.
Though the coat is torn and filthy, it serves a purpose as a part of his wardrobe. Sewn under the cloth are plates of steel; one over his heart, one on his back, and a long piece on each of his forearms. The purpose is simple; to deflect bullets and other weapons, to an extent.
History: Lan was born in the east, an orphan. He never knew who his parents were. At first, he resented them for abandoning him, but this taught him one thing; if you don't look out for yourself, no one else will. As a result, he grew up alone, mostly by stealing. It was a meager existance, but it kept him alive. At least, up until he stole from the wrong person.
The man looked rich, which was why Lan targetted him. He picked his pocket, and came out with a gold piece, something that could feed him quite some time. However, luck was not with him; just as he stepped away to melt into the crowd, the man absently reached into his pocket. In less than a second, he'd whirled, startling Lan. The boy tried to run, but the man had him by the neck before he could move a step.
"An interesting little fellow, aren't you?" The man said, taking out a knife as he did so. Lan looked around frantically, but no one paid him any heed. "It might be a waste to kill a boy with such slight fingers." The knife twitched in the man's hand, and then was returned to its hiding place. Instead, Lan was grabbed with both hands and led along. The grip slackened, but just as it did, two enormous hands fell on his shoulders. Looking up, he saw that they belonged to two equally enormous men, and he was led away.
It turned out that the man led an organization that hired out mercenaries all around the country, and trained them as well. Lan was shoved into training immediately, and stayed for a couple years, learning a mixture of martial arts and weapons use. Finally, he was sent out into fighting.
He had no problem with any of it. He felt some remorse in killing in the beginning, when he was first sent out into the battle field, but this lessened and lessened, as those around him told him over and over again, "It's kill or be killed." Finally, he no longer cared for the lives of others, and simply did as he was told.
Or, he did for a time. The organization was attacked by another, and in the fighting that ensued, most of the people in it were killed. When he realized it was a losing battle, he simply escaped to go on his own.
He from there on hired himself out as a lone mercenary, and became more confident in fighting for himself. He went under the alias of 'Hallow', because by this time the Emperor of his country was actively searching out mercenaries and mercenary groups, to cut down on the intense fighting that was breaking out amongst the clans that made up the country. He eventually was forced to leave, and managed to cross the desert into Amestris.
Other: He carries a variety of weapons; on his right hip is a katana in a sheath, and on his left is a pistol in a holster. He also has a number of concealed throwing knives.
Alias: Hallow (not a State Alchemist name, just another name he goes by)
Name: Lan Soro
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Weight: Without coat, 174 lbs
Height: 6 foot and a half an inch
Hair: Black, cut raggedly at about chin length, with unkempt bangs. It looks a bit greasy. He also has a stubble of a beard, though it just looks more like he hasn't taken the time to shave in a few days.
Eyes: Dark brown, nearly black.
Personality: Lan cares about only one person; himself. Everyone else can go to heck in a handbasket, as far as he's concerned. Everything he does is to further himself and his own needs, and he's not above back stabbing anyone to get where he wants to be. Fighting, for him, is a joy in and of itself, but he's not one out to look for stronger people to fight, either. It's utterly beating your opponent, that last look on their face when they've realized they've been beaten; that's what he looks for. If the opponent is stronger than he expected, or if the fight seems to be going south, he has no problem with making a "tactical retreat". Even so, the reason he's really in the mercenary business is for money. Fighting and killing is the only thing he's really any good at, and he's not about to start trying to go into another trade when there's so much to be had in the markets of Amestris. It's a fighting country, after all. In general, though, he's fairly cynical towards other people. He likes to taunt those he's fighting if he gets a chance, and is one to brag quite a bit. He also enjoys verbal arguments, especially if he can get the other person really going (in other words, he'd have a lot of fun with Ed). He himself has a surprisingly even temper and cares little of what others think.
Physical Description: Lan stands pretty tall, but he doesn't exactly tower over most men, either. He has a fairly lithe frame, and though you can't see it much under his clothes, he's very muscular as well. His face, framed by his mane of black hair, is rather long and angular, with a hooked, hawkish nose. Then, of course, he has his stubble of a beard and almond shaped brown eyes, which, combined with his pale skin and black hair, proclaim him to be from the country to the east of Amestris. He wears a ragged coat that may once have been black, but has since been worn until it is a dull, dirty gray. Underneath that is a black tanktop and rather baggy tan pants held up with a belt of plain, frayed-looking rope. These, too, are dirty, though, and much darker than they were originally. On his feet are worn brown boots.
Though the coat is torn and filthy, it serves a purpose as a part of his wardrobe. Sewn under the cloth are plates of steel; one over his heart, one on his back, and a long piece on each of his forearms. The purpose is simple; to deflect bullets and other weapons, to an extent.
History: Lan was born in the east, an orphan. He never knew who his parents were. At first, he resented them for abandoning him, but this taught him one thing; if you don't look out for yourself, no one else will. As a result, he grew up alone, mostly by stealing. It was a meager existance, but it kept him alive. At least, up until he stole from the wrong person.
The man looked rich, which was why Lan targetted him. He picked his pocket, and came out with a gold piece, something that could feed him quite some time. However, luck was not with him; just as he stepped away to melt into the crowd, the man absently reached into his pocket. In less than a second, he'd whirled, startling Lan. The boy tried to run, but the man had him by the neck before he could move a step.
"An interesting little fellow, aren't you?" The man said, taking out a knife as he did so. Lan looked around frantically, but no one paid him any heed. "It might be a waste to kill a boy with such slight fingers." The knife twitched in the man's hand, and then was returned to its hiding place. Instead, Lan was grabbed with both hands and led along. The grip slackened, but just as it did, two enormous hands fell on his shoulders. Looking up, he saw that they belonged to two equally enormous men, and he was led away.
It turned out that the man led an organization that hired out mercenaries all around the country, and trained them as well. Lan was shoved into training immediately, and stayed for a couple years, learning a mixture of martial arts and weapons use. Finally, he was sent out into fighting.
He had no problem with any of it. He felt some remorse in killing in the beginning, when he was first sent out into the battle field, but this lessened and lessened, as those around him told him over and over again, "It's kill or be killed." Finally, he no longer cared for the lives of others, and simply did as he was told.
Or, he did for a time. The organization was attacked by another, and in the fighting that ensued, most of the people in it were killed. When he realized it was a losing battle, he simply escaped to go on his own.
He from there on hired himself out as a lone mercenary, and became more confident in fighting for himself. He went under the alias of 'Hallow', because by this time the Emperor of his country was actively searching out mercenaries and mercenary groups, to cut down on the intense fighting that was breaking out amongst the clans that made up the country. He eventually was forced to leave, and managed to cross the desert into Amestris.
Other: He carries a variety of weapons; on his right hip is a katana in a sheath, and on his left is a pistol in a holster. He also has a number of concealed throwing knives.
