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Profile/General overview.

Name: Aire Enahz.
Race: Lightning Earthling
Gender: : Male

3 Base Traits: Kind, exciteable, foolhardy.
Personality: Contained in a thin veneer of shyness, Aire is a pleasant, garrulous guy, potentially talking your ear off if you get him going. Very much the 'absent-minded scholar' sort, and tends to block out outside influences when buried in his work or studies. Prone to overworking himself, forgetting to sleep for potentially days on end. Neither of these much endear him to his neighbors, who mostly consider him 'odd'. Being so wrapped up in learning leaves little time to correct the notion. He's been considerate enough to keep his more volatile experiments outside of town, clearly marking the sites so no one stumbles into active tests. Fairly high-strung, and wears his emotions openly, which might be why he's odd, rather than something less flattering. It helps that Aire will often go out of his way to help someone having trouble, should he notice or they ask, often without considering personal consequence. Of course, that sort of thing is what got him into his current situation...

Description: Young Enahz stands around five-one(5'1" ), slender to the point of bony. Green crystal nodes creep up his spine and neck, onto his cheeks. Purple of eye and eyesocket, and broken-nosed besides, his stark face wasn't built for beauty. The chemical stains on his exposed skin make it a moot point anyway. The waist-length frizzy mass that passes for a braid would make the boy look like a wildfire if undone.

Clothing: Soberly dressed in long shirt and trews, leather apron, gloves and boots to cover as much skin as possible. Given his recent passion for experimenting with explosives, some woven padding has been added to strategic points in his attire. Chemical stains mar every piece of clothing he owns. While protective and sturdy, the best that can be said of the wardrobe for style is that it's kept clean.

Accessories: A wallet containing the tools of his prospective trade. Hailing from another continent, he is consistently surprised at how often a new sample of material pops up, either for testing or storage. Wears a small silver earring in the left earlobe, and touches it often, especially when thinking of home.

History: Come from Zeemer, in Belrea, Aire wasn't initially at home in the jungle, even in Neued. Then again, there wasn't much room to be comfortable at home, either. In a family of nine, parents and siblings under one roof, this was only natural. His mother and father, both involved in mechanical engineering, either the manufacture of parts or their improvement, tended to press their children into service when things got a little tight with deadlines, and one couldn't help picking things up, that way. Leaving was his own idea, and his current situation his own fault. He'd developed a passion for chemical science, and rather than apply to study under a local master, he began exploring his options. When Aire heard of the sheer biodiversity on Jauhar, it set his imagination alight. The youth decided to save up and go study there, without thinking it all the way through. As one wiser might guess, he realized what a downright terrible idea that was after the fact, and wound up apprenticed to an alchemist that took pity on a poor, homeless fool.

A local healer of note, both in skill and foul temper, the old man put the foreign lad up in his laboratory tent alongside the house with strict instructions to touch nothing. It was meant as a temporary charity, but after a few incidents involving small-scale explosions, the old chemist took him on as apprentice in truth, partly because they got on well, and partly for the youth's own good. Being adaptable and fairly treated, Aire adjusted relatively quickly. He made some few other friends, even given his consuming hunger for knowledge, but a willingness to lend a hand to whoever asked balanced that out a bit for local opinion. By the time another airship came along, he sent a letter and a package back rather than boarding himself. Despite the separation, the Earthling is fully enjoying his time on the mainland for the learning experience it is.

Of late, the young man has taken to setting up outside the walls to test his less stable compounds. By now, it is so littered with small craters and blast-seared patches of earth that any local could likely identify it by rumour as 'Aire's Drum.' They certainly hear him play it often enough. The explosives, while entertaining, are a means, not his intended end. (Well. They are 'an' end in themselves, just not the only one.) In main part, he seeks to answer several questions in principle. By what chemical means do elements of the earth transmute to fire? Can they be returned from that state by considered application? How does magic interact with the distribution, expression, and direction of force? And one still plaguing the scholars of his homeland: are not light and gross bodies incontrovertible? The refinement of stable variants of his toys is a logical step, and a fun one...

Formed/Familial connections.
Parents, six siblings
Teacher,
(Details to be added later.)
Rajani, friend. (Hera's Box)
Aaricia, acquaintance (Cornetified)
Zashaduri, student? (Oceansoul)

Class Affinity Solo: Towards Alchemist.

Alchymists were a misunderstood lot. Mostly they were envisioned as people carefully measuring herbs and oddly-colored concoctions over fires and mixing them. Sometimes as miracle workers, addressing disease and toxins, others as eccentric producers of glues and colors, and yet more as just taking notes from staring intensely at a plant. Useful, always, if nothing else for a practical wisdom that the profession enforced. If, for instance, something was labeled 'do not touch, you pay attention and do not touch. Aire thought differently.

True, he came from a different base of thought and technology, but in a bare three months, he'd already found the outside used the local materials to wondrous effect. Such passive hauteur as he'd kept had been ground away by an old man with a tongue as sharp as his wits, and no patience to suffer fools of any stripe. His young apprentice grew older, as they have a habit of doing, and in the growing grew hungrier for understanding. He devoured the old Chymist's library in just a little while, and soon got sent out for more.

In a secondhand curio cart, he'd discovered a scroll that the merchant assumed was some ancient tongue for how little sense the symbols made. The maths were clear enough, but not their object. Aire's master knew a bit of magic himself, and translated the stuff when asked. As it turned out, it was a copy of a copy, some old mage's arcane scribbles about a potion for immortality. ...Of course, when they attempted to make the stuff, it loudly disabused them of that notion. "Cursed useless for immortality outside a drinking story," the old physician had said, along with less polite things. "Mad b*****d didn't know what he was on about." That very disproving, however, made sparks go off in two places. Outside, which in any chymist's stock can be quite dangerous, but also in the Belrean 'Prentice's mind, which might have been riskier.

Since, the skinny young redhead has found his love. Material science, the processes and energies of transmuting one thing to another or even mechanical application where necessary, these are his joy. Currently, his chief personal project involves reactive and volatile substances and the means of their application and refinement. Kept safely away from the town, squirreling himself behind a reasonably-dug earthworks, and grinning fit to split his face, Aire the Alchemist makes things go 'BOOM.'

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