Viewing profile - Simon Kinsley

Simon Kinsley
*scowls in Draconic*
Level 01
24 / 24 HP
20 / 20 MP
SIGH-men KINZ-lee
The Cloud-Touched Cliffs, Slyscera Mountains, Irtuen-Tviyr border.
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For more information, see Noire.
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Physical Features

Pale on the human parts, without so much as a freckle owing to his love of starlight over sunlight. His draconic scales are a deep purple that could pass for black in faint enough lighting.
Black, curly, and with enough free range to roam past his jawline, there are plenty of odd strays that keep it looking somewhere between "tamed bedhead" and "restrained overgrowth."
Officially pale blue, however his choice of stark blue uniforms tends to wash out all semblance of colour and leave them looking gray. The slight glint one may see is purely a product of his circular glasses; rest assured, Simon would never regard anything with twinkling joy.
7'2", leaving him on the runty side of ue'drahc. Imagine his surprise when he left home and found out he is a giant amongst hooligans.
"Gaunt" is one of many words to describe his figure. Others that might come to mind include "imposing", "emaciated", "lanky", and one of his personal favourites, "simonesque". It means: "of or relating to a looming gnarled oak tree that has been twisted into an anthropomorphic silhouette, with an even wilier elm creeping into frame to mess it all up, that could almost assuredly topple at the next stiff breeze and yet still demolish everything on its way down." Perhaps its easier to say that everyone has a different interpretation of "ue'draecian skinny."

Other Features:

While on the slimmer side from an erudite life, parts of Simon pass for perfectly human. It's only the telltale claws-for-fingers, the taloned feet, the bat-like wings, the oft-covered scales along his shoulders and back, the absurd height difference, the ram-like purple horns curling out of his skull, and the literal tail that ever persuade one away from believing it.

In retrospect, maybe Simon doesn't pass for human very well at all.


The problem with Simon is that he's never mastered first impressions. He tries to be warm and considerate, the kind of soul who's extremely self-aware that he's a towering beast of a less-than-common heritage. It's just that he's not very good at it. Ever tried to smile with horns and claws? Somehow, it doesn't really come off all that friendly to folks a fraction of his height. Or the weird agoraphobia others expect him to germinate, because it's so comfortable on his back to hunch all day in claustrophobic ceilings when there's open sky right. friggin'. there.

The end result, of course, is that it's simply far less exhausting to be direct with people. Overanalytical, grumpy, "serious" - whatever word people use, they're all euphemisms for "honesty I don't like from a big, scary dragon-person I also don't like." He's learned that by now. Add in the fact that he originally left to see the world in all its splendour, and instead all he got were queues, tepid water passing for tea, clothes that never fit, and that ever so clever tenth person of the hour asking him how the weather is up there, and it isn't so surprising that maybe, just maybe, Simon is out of fucks to give.

Relationships and Companions

He hasn't murdered anyone on the expedition vessel yet. Allegedly.


Like most of his kin, Simon's hometown isn't on any maps, nary more than a collection of families, harsh wilderness, ancient runes, and decrepit rules. As the namesake implies, the Cloud-Touched Cliffs are a reclusive formation high in the mountains of the Slyscera, with winding, narrow paths that funnel tempests and steep outcrops of plummeting death. It was the perfect place to keep other races out - particularly the flightless ones. The cold and lack of alcohol tended to handle all the rest.

Naturally, a small hamlet of survivalists was absolutely dreadful as a child. It was so dull - all they did was sit around and talk. The only other ue'drahc even close to Simon's age was still fourteen years his senior, and far more interested in hunting and fighting than playing hide and seek with a kid. As expected, Simon was ditched at least a hundred times on what were supposed to be "educational" outings.

The end result was that he learned to stop following and started getting lost on purpose. Turned out, the mountain had buried all kinds of secret treasures! Shattered stone fragments etched with partial runes; a portion of soil where the flowers bloomed year-round, even in the height of winter; an arrowhead that never lost its edge; an entire cavern, collapsed and glittering with possibility; even a flightless girl with pointed ears and the best games to pass the day...

Simon never could figure out that last one. No, not the girl - he knew plenty enough about Myal; the mystery around her was... well, whatever happened to her. Presumably, she grew up. Simon's still not so sure that he did.

However, like the gal who never could pronounce his name and called him the closest makeshift, Simon also left the mountains one day. His parents were hardly happy with it. There was a whole demonstration as he crossed the Elder Boundary for the last time, and plenty of incredibly unhappy sentiments exchanged - it didn't change what happened, and he found himself joining any academic pursuits that he could, stinting time in all the major cities and all but counterfeiting the libraries of the world.

With an interest in magical artifacts and a specialty in Proto-Draconic, he's been touring Khy'eras ever since, determined to uncover the disappearance of the dragon his clan descended from.

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October 1st, 2019, 3:25 am
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November 28th, 2019, 1:59 am
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In the Midst of Madness
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