XXX Character name: Markov Misohave
XXX Age: 20
XXX Region: Helios
XXX Appearance: Markov stands around 5'6'', with a slim build and weighing only around 150lbs. His hair is a light blond and is kept short, never letting it get past his jaw line. He has an almost feminine figure, with a soft face and bright blue eyes and a fair complexion. His ears are also pierced, with his right ear being done in two places and his left only in the lower lobe.
[ x ]XXXPersonality: He is a stubborn young man, when he gets something fixed in his head he will attempt to go at it through whatever means he can find. When he fails at it though, he is crushed for a few days, tending to linger and mope about what he has failed at doing. He can be rather cynical at times, and is not the most trusting of persons, finding it hard to become too attached to someone out of fear of the leaving. However once someone is able to get passed that barrier he is a good friend and will do what is needed to help someone out. Though he tries to act tough, he is actually has a soft heart, and is easily hurt, often taking things too seriously. He also has a deep dislike, almost a hate even, of his father. Blaming him for what happened to his mother and wishing that he had been taken rather than her.
XXX History: Markov's father's side hailed from Ecara, while his mother's was originally from Yirui. Now, one might ask how these two would have ended up in Panymium. About three generations back, his father's side sailed across the seas, one of his great great grandfather's deciding that he wanted a change of scenery, and so they would set up in Panymium, living a meager existence and starting a family trade of merchanting, traveling across the continent and occasionally across the seas. As such, his great grandfather became one, as did his son, and eventually his father. It would be during one of these over seas trips that his father would meet his mother, an exotic looking thing to him, he managed to woo her and brought her back to Panymium with him. She was a frail thing, and for the first part of her pregnancy they were afraid that she would either loose the child, or her life, perhaps even both. However, they were eventually blessed with a bright eyed little boy.
As Markov grew, his father was away more and more, with another little mouth to feed he had to work twice as much, and soon their average lifestyle began to slip to less and less, until it became a struggle simply to keep food on the table and a roof over their heads. It would be then that his father would give up the family trade and take up a job at a factory, with the onset of the Black Death able bodied workers were starting to become scarce, and as a side effect, his father's hours lengthened. In a way, it was a good thing, it provided them with a bit more money, however, it took him away from the house longer, often times allowing him enough time to see his wife and son while they ate before having to go to bed before leaving for work the very next day. As a result, Markov became very attached to his mother, and not so much so to his father. He knew who the man was, and what he was to him, but the emotional bond that was normally there between a father and son was lacking between the two.
It was around Markov's sixteenth year that his mother fell ill, her constitution having always been frail, when the Black Death began to seem to run rampant, she was not spared its fevered grip. At first, Markov thought that perhaps that his mother was just tired, or stressed about something, however, when they were eating one night, and she began to cough up blood, he knew that something was wrong. Even then though, the next morning, his father got up and went to work as always, leaving his ill and dying wife at home with their son. It didn't take long for the illness to consume his mother, black spots forming on her soft pale skin, her mind seeming to slip with her seeing things that weren't there. At times, she would mumble about the spot on her glasses, saying that it had been watching her. Markov took these as the rantings of a dying woman who had lost her mind, something that broke his heart and often times left him crying himself to sleep. Whenever his father would come home, which was less and less as the week wore on, Markov couldn't stand to look at the man, his father had taken to sleeping on the couch so as 'not to disturb his mother'. However Markov felt it was because he was afraid of catching the sickness as well. This left him to care for the woman in her final week, something he did with great sorrow. Finally, as he was trying to get her to eat her supper one night, she simply went quiet, her hand falling from his arm to rest against the bed. For a long moment, Markov stood there, still talking to her, tears running down his face as he tried to coax his dead mother to eat.
For nearly a week after, Markov rarely left his room, his father coming home at night as normal, leaving food inside his door before going to bed. The young boy barely wanted to do anything, the loss of his mother was crushing to him, to know that he would never again see her smile, hear her laugh. His father would get rid of everything that she had, including the bed that she had died on, the only thing that Markov could save of his mother's was her reading glasses, and if he hadn't stolen those while his father was busy cleaning out something else he doubted that he would have them. He silently wished that it had been him that the Plague had took him instead of his sweet and darling mother. Two years later, he would leave, still carrying his mother's old glasses around in his pocket. He would take on whatever odd jobs he could to make ends meat, from cleaning houses to fixing things, to even picking up the bodies of the dead.
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