Name:Seifer Almasy
Nickname:Doesn't really have any.
Age:He is seventeen and considers himself much more mature than Hayner and his lot.
Gender:Male
Species:Human
Position: Chaotic Neutral
Powers:Having grown up in a normal and quiet town, Seifer is pretty much a typical teenager. He doesn't know magical spells or have any special abilities. He's just Seifer.
Weapon:The weapon seen most often in his hands is a Struggle club. The "club" in question is actually a bat covered in blue foam. The handle is smooth and yellow. While normally used only for the Struggle competitions, Seifer has taken to carrying around a club nearly constantly, always training to rank higher in the competitions.
Seifer has another weapon to his name, but he is hardly ever seen using it; instead, the weapon remains mounted on the wall in his room. For as far back as he can remember, Seifer has always had
Hyperion, a strange mix of gun and sword. A gunblade. The blade part of the weapon juts out in a wicked curve at the bottom before slimming down to a point at the top. Three holes have been drilled into this jutting piece. The hilt is resembles a normal handgun, complete with trigger. The origin of the weapon is unknown to Seifer.
Picture:i183.photobucket.com/albums/x175/rixor777/Cool%20pics/seifer.jpgAppearance:Despite being a teenager, Seifer is less gangly and awkward than most boys his age. His near constant training has put him on the path toward a honed body -- it's beginning to show in his arms and abdomen -- but he still has a long way to go. His hair is sandy blond and cut fairly short, but a few rebellious strands will hang over his forehead if he's not wearing his hat. His eyes are jade green. However, his eyes occasionally display bluish tints under the right light. A pinkish scar cuts diagonally down the skin in between his eyes. Like Hyperion, Seifer has had this scar for as long as he can remember, but he assumes that it is the product of some early childhood accident.
Clothing:Seifer wears a blue and white sleeveless vest that zips in the front and leaves a hefty portion of his midriff bare. His brownish pants ride low on his hips and become slightly baggy toward the bottom. The waistline of the pants can be tightened or loosened with a yellow ribbon of cloth. He wears black shoes that come up a few inches past his ankles. As always, his trademark white trench coat is present. The collar of it is flipped outward, and it lacks sleeves. There is a pocket on each side of it. The final element to Seifer's ensemble is the his black beanie. The kanji for "Ore" is written upon it.
Personality:Except for the other members of the Disciplinary Committee, Seifer is somewhat of a loner. He doesn't associate with many of the other children in Twilight Town, least of all Hayner and his friends. He's pretty serious, most of the time, trying to perfect a cool and aloof air. Unfortunately, his quick temper often ruins this image. He's mildly sarcastic and tends not to respect any authority that is not his own. He's passionate about battling and doesn't like to lose.
History/Background:Originally, Seifer's homeworld was not Twilight Town. He was born on another world, lost his parents at an early age, and was sent to live at an orphanage run by Cid and Edea Kramer, the latter called Matron by the children. Seifer was one of many orphans, but he was probably the rowdiest, always picking fights with the others. Perhaps because of his rebellious and surly attitude, he was never adopted. Instead, he was sent to Balamb Garden, a school to train mercenaries. Although fighting suited his personality, his headstrong ways caused him to repeatedly fail the test to become a SeeD.
Through this, he kept training, often fighting against his rival, another gunblade specialist named Squall Leonheart. He received the scar on his face during one of their training sessions after he got a little overexcited and cut Squall, giving him a wound which the other gunblader immediately reciprocated.
When Squall passed the test to become a SeeD and Seifer failed once again, that was sort of the breaking point. He joined the Sorceress Edea, becoming her knight while he pursued his romantic dream. His only friends -- also members of Seifer's Disciplinary Committee -- Raijin and Fujin followed him. Unfortunately, since Squall was a SeeD, he kept interfering with everything Seifer tried to do. At least until Squall failed in his attempt to kill the Sorceress and was taken to the D-District Prison, where Seifer was given leave to torture secrets out of him. Squall and his friends escaped.
After that, Seifer fell fully under the Sorceress's control. He became her servant so thoroughly that even Raijin and Fujin barely recognized him anymore. Fujin turned to Squall with the plea that he help Seifer break out of the Sorceress's control, but the SeeD leader was distracted by his own problems. Seifer had kidnapped the girl Squall had started to love, Rinoa, and the brunette gunblader was preoccupied with trying to get her back.
When the Time Compression started, something went wrong. Heartless attacked the world, killing people and tearing the world itself to shreds. Although he didn't die from Heartless attacks, Seifer -- as well as Rajin and Fujin -- was displaced after the world was destroyed. If that wasn't bad enough, something else went wrong for him: thanks to the Time Compression, which shoved past, present, and future into a single frame of time, Seifer ended up getting stuck at the wrong point in his life. Reduced to a measely six-years of age, Seifer and his two friends somehow survived oblivion and landed in Twilight Town.
The children were soon found and taken in by curious townsfolk. Raijin and Fujin both found families that adopted them, and Seifer himself was adopted by a widow who had always wanted a son. In a strange twist of fate, the woman had the same last name: Almasy. Time passed, and life went on.
Eleven years later, Seifer and his friends had all but forgotten their pasts. They forgot their homeworld; they forgot they were adopted. Seifer's scar was just an oddity, and the Hyperion could possibly be a momento from his dead father. Not even Seifer remembered their original significance.
He fell into the same patterns as before, however. He formed a Disciplinary Committee, and he was lousy in school. And, as always, battling was his passion. Seifer began to train as an outlet for his frustration and simply never stopped. His goal to become a skilled fighter was further encouraged by the odd dreams he occasionally had. In his dreams, he's older, fighting with Hyperion, and battling a brunette with another gunblade...
Role Playing Sample:Swords flashed in the diminished sunlight, metal clanging with each strike. I whirled, slashing sharply at him. He blocked, of course, bringing his own gunblade up to bear just in time. We held the position for a few seconds, testing each other, trying to figure out who would weaken first. Moments later we spun apart, turning to meet each other. Gunblades clashed before we pulled back again. He lunged; I danced out of the way, a fierce grin plastered on my face. As he turned to face me again, I held back Hyperion, smirking. I inclined my head upward, gesturing for him to come to me. An obvious taunt, but he responded all the same. He rushed forward, and I went on the offensive. Stabbing and slashing, I forced him back. He surprised me, blocking one of my blows and coming at me in an overhead strike. I reacted automatically, bringing my blade upward to stop him.
The battle was faster now, blood singing in my veins as we slipped past training pretenses into true combat. This was what I wanted: to go all out. He was the only one who could match me, step for step, blow for blow. It was practically a dance. Crashing metal and harsh breathing served as our music, while reflected sunlight dazzled our eyes.
I swung; he ducked. Pulling his lips back in a snarl, he lunged at me, slashing wildly. Ah, Squall... if only those people who called him emotionless could see him now. There was fire in his eyes; he was thriving on adrenaline, just like me. I took his assault, Hyperion raised defensively, mouth locked into an automatic grimace as my hands thrummed from the force he used. I finally broke the pattern, slashing and driving him back again.
He merely twirled his blade, rushing at me again, hand outstretched. I beat him to it, however, calling forth a sphere of flames into one hand. He winced at the sudden flare in his eyes, and I let him have it. The fireball slammed into him, overpowering his attempt to block it, knocking him back onto the ground. He sat up slowly, chest heaving as he forced himself to his feet. As he rose, triumph filled me. His guard was currently down; I would win this fight.
Letting out a victorious shout, I raised Hyperion -- his grayish blue eyes snapped upward, widening slightly as they met mine -- and the unforgiving blade crashed through the air, cutting him across the face. Squall let out a soft gasp, head bowed above a splash of blood that vividly stained the stone upon which we stood. It dripped down his face as he turned on me with such fury -- I didn't have time to react. His gunblade flashed upward, and I flinched back, feeling pain blossom between my eyes.The blonde hissed between clenched teeth, jerking upright. Fingers fumbled blindly between his eyes, expecting to come away with blood. There was nothing, of course. The skin wasn't cut open; it had scarred over long ago.
Seifer sat among his tangled sheets, keeping his hand over his scar as he struggled to calm his racing heart. His breaths came out raggedly, almost as if he
had been fighting. The teenager shook his head slightly, slumping back onto his pillow and running a hand through short blond hair. "That dream again..." It was always the same. Seifer, older than he was at the moment, fighting someone he didn't know. With Hyperion, no less. Jade green eyes cast a frustrated glance at the gunblade that was currently mounted on the wall across from his bed.
Why did that dream always seem more like a memory than a fantasy? It didn't make any sense. After all, he already had the scar, and it wasn't as if he could've gotten it fighting like that -- he was older in the dream, and people can't just get younger! -- since he didn't know anyone like the other gunblader anyway. Seifer scowled, absentmindedly rubbing at the space between his eyes.
Still... it was a pity that the other gunblader was a figment of his imagination. The brunette sure had been one hell of a fighter.
Questions? Isn't this romantic!? xD
