Are you ready to play the game?
Role: The King's Body Guard.
I introduce myself as: Emmerick Travis Playnes.
But you may call me: Playnes or Rick (or Emi by a very select few).
The number of birthday candles on my cake: Twenty-five.
How tall I stand: Six feet, two inches.
How much I weigh: About one-hundred-seventy-five pounds.
What I see in my mirror: Well, I have very light blond hair, gray eyes, and usually have a bit of stubble across my chin. My hair's somewhat long and always kept about the same length; it's never pulled back, aside from the occasional tuck behind my ears. I have a fairly muscular build, though am still considered a bit lanky (that doesn't matter much, though, as my muscles are simply lean and can pull much more than they let on). Since I'd become the King's body guard, I've had to wear a purple suit. I have no piercings or tattoos, but have dozens of scars across my body from a multitude of sources, only a few of which I can recall.
How you ended up in this lovely city: My past isn't something I generally announce. Of course, a few know it for one reason or another, though it's incredibly unlikely that I was the one who explained it to them. I grew up in a large city with a great family: my wonderful parents and my beautiful sister; I was certain that things would always be as fortunate for me. However, it would seem the plans made for me were set on a suddenly broken course. The year of my fifteenth birthday, six large men'd broken into our home in the middle of the night carrying weapons and sacks. We awoke to the sounds of rummaging and breakage and rushed to the sound. We were greeted by the men at gunpoint and were forced to submit to their will. When they finished gathering all that they wanted, they shot my father, tortured and mutilated my mother to death, then raped and destroyed my elder sister. All this time, I was forced to watch, struggling and fighting until there was no fight left. They laughed and taunted me, then knocked me out and left me to awake in the disaster that had once meant everything to me.
I left home, then, with what little I could bare to gather, and decided it would be best for me to disappear. I lived on the streets from then on out, thieving to survive. I began dabbling in drugs and alcohol and squatted in various abandoned buildings for shelter. It was until I met Kaytlin that I believed I had no purpose in life. She was breath-taking and sweet and claimed willing to do anything to keep me at her side. And then her father found out. He'd taken me by the neck and threatened me, telling me that if I ever came near his sixteen-year-old daughter again, he'd shoot me on the spot. I wanted to fight him, but Kaytlin wouldn't allow it. She told me to go and to never return; she said she loved me, but her father was family and his wishes would always come first. I was twenty-years-old, had found the first and only woman I'd ever come to love, and now I was being torn apart from her. I was heart-broken, but I couldn't defy her. I left and fell into an animalistic fit of despair.
I ended up getting thrown into prison. I'd blacked out a few days after Kaytlin'd rid of me, most likely caused by a large amount of drugs. I killed a man--literally tore him to pieces--and they threw me in as quickly as they could. I plead guilty, not caring one wink what became of me. I was to spend life. Nearly four years later, however, they moved me to a new 'prison'. They said I'd be with other 'psychotic nuisances' like myself, there and that we'd hopefully tear each other to pieces until there were none of us left. I'd hardly spent a week there when I was brought before the King. He told me I amused him and that I would suit the position as his body-guard perfectly, like a glove. He explained to me that it was much better than living on the city grounds. At first, I didn't believe him, though the longer I stood at his side, the more I came to realize that there was no better place than the one he'd given me.
I hate most tasks he makes me undertake, though I've come to realize all is out of my control. I didn't want to die and I most certainly didn't want to live in the city (my only other option), so though I still sometimes try to argue my point of view, I always, always obey my given orders. To be honest, I think I'm even starting to love the job; maybe it's the time I spent in jail finally starting to take effect--or perhaps I've had it in me all along.
People often say I'm: overly protective of the things I call his own, especially my 'loved ones' or those I hold in high respect. I can be rather violent and I think I love my sadism, though, underneath my rough exterior, I'm still rather sweet and I'd like to be thoughtful (if the chance would ever arise). I'm very intelligent and wise, though it hardly shows through in my actions. I can come across as a self-centered arrogant b*****d, but knowing my past might sometimes help clarify my reasonings. I tend to judge people fast (it's my job, isn't it?), though never on appearance; I'll know for sure if I'll like you the moment you first look at me.
Bring that my way!: I cannot get through my day without at least one cigarette and one alcoholic drink. I like to partake in drug consuming, though am not always allowed to do so (which aggravates me to no end). I love sleeping, though this small liberty has been nearly ripped from me, due to the job requirements. When allowed I like to spar with the King's pets or--if really lucky--one of the citizens. I like dark, warm, enclosed places and loud music like metal and hard rock.
I don't want that!: I don't like being fake or having to put on a show. I dislike having to be submissive to anyone, for any reason, and hate to be treated as any sort of 'pet' or 'plaything'. Bright colors make my eyes hurt, overly cheerful people make me sick, and the taste of stale alcohol or cigarettes makes me cringe.
Oh, look at me!: I am incredibly good at most kinds of acrobatics and parkour (both of which I spent much time pursuing as a kid), making me very flexible and agile. I'm a highly-skilled street fighter, meaning I'm quick on my feet and have a hard punch and kick. I've had much practice with a lock picking and stealth, as well as lying.
I'm not so good at this: I'm terribly bad at taking things slow. I have trust and relationship issues (both of which tie directly to Kaytlin). I have to drink, smoke, and do drugs because I otherwise think too much about my past and it distracts me. I sometimes don't eat enough, meaning I gain and lose weight fairly often. Before the most recent events, I'd usually have trouble following orders.
What I use to fight: I keep a dual set of triple-bladed claw daggers. When not in use, they're kept in special sheaths that are strapped tightly to my thighs--within perfect reach in case they become suddenly necessary.
Oh, but I also have: a simple golden ring, identical to the one given to Kaytlin; I keep on a thin silver chain around my neck, hidden from sight.
My lovely colors: Arsenic { #3B444B }, Black { #000000 }, and Blood Red { #A40000 }.
Oh, did I forget something?: When I speak, I sound like Derek Bloom (the very first guy) in this video. When I sing (if you're one of the very, very few to ever hear it), I sound like this. And to follow, this is my favorite song.
