Mirza, Tadeu; Fighter - Pending

[Mirza Tadeu]

Name: Mirza Tadeu.
Age: Eighteen.
DoB: October first.
Gender: Male.
Grade: 12.
Position: Fighter.

Hair: Whitish gray.
Ears: None.
Eye Color: Green.
Skin Tone: Darkly Tanned.
Height: 5'10.
Weight: 130lbs.

Description: How to describe Mirza...? Well, there's really just one word for him, one word that describes him perfectly well: Exotic. Mirza's skin is a light brown, like someone that's always in the sun, like that of of the old Egyptian pharaoh's. He likes clothes that flow around him, like robes and open shirts and loose shorts - the more elaborate it is, the better. His shock of pale hair is completely natural too - as are his bright green eyes, and damn if he isn't simply just gorgeous.

Likes:

• Food
  
• Dancing
  
• Sweets
  
• Summer
  
• The sun
  
• Eagles
  
• Music
  

Dislikes:

• Rain
  
• Little girls
  
• Small beds
  
• Liquid food
  
• Dogs
  

Personality: Mirza, for one, is both simple and complex. He has a completely strange thinking process, usually coming to a completely different outcome to a situation then everybody else - and it usually leads to people calling him 'eccentric'. He's fun, loves to play, jokes freely and has absolutely no reservations - at all - and he's also good at sweet talking his way out of prison if he wanted too. He's enjoys life as it comes, doesn't force himself or others into doing anything they don't want too, and most likely comes off as a rich kid with too much free time - even if that's exactly how he acts.

But he's a lot more then just a happy-go-lucky guy. It's probably not too much of a stretch that he sometimes uses the playboy impression he gives people to hide his serious side. Mirza can be serious, manipulative, and downright seducing when he wants to be - which is whenever he damn well feels like it. He can be your fun-guy boyfriend, or that sizzling one-night stand.

History: Born on a small island just off the coast, Mirza's been living it up with sunshine and beaches twenty four seven, and looks like it too. He comes from a pretty much normal family - a mom and dad, little old himself, loads of relatives in the next town over, on the mainlands, etc etc. and doesn't really have anything bad to mention. A few times he's almost drowned, you know, at the start, before he knew how to swim, but he's gotten the hang of it since, and is pretty good at swimming now.

When he was around 14, though, he learnt of his true name, really surprising that had been, and it had come as a shock to not only himself, but to his family too. With the Academy accepting him, Mirza packed up his belongings, and with a bitter farewell, left his family to go attend the institute.

---

OOC Name: Victim
Years of RPing Experience: Years? I've been going at this for months.
Other Characters: None.

Roleplaying Example: (taken from other site)

Sam loved his family, he really, quite honestly, did. But sometimes, just sometimes, he became so overwhelmed by them and their number that he just needed to lock himself up somewhere and be isolated for a while - and damn if he hadn't thought today was going to be just that. Isolation. Such a wonderful word right now.

But he should've known there would be someone home. The Lamaire mansion was never completely empty, and while he had no clue where everybody was (including the workers - he didn't like calling them servants) he'd took heed of the whole not looking a gift horse in the mouth and had finally dug out the cooking book he'd been dying to try out for the past three months and hauled tail to the kitchen.

That's when it began. The great culinary failure of Samuel Lamaire.

And by the heavens, he was beginning to freak out about how to explain the burnt chicken in the rubbish, at least this new batch was coming along nicely - that, and the vegetables he was cooking so they'd be soft. Then there was the mashed potatoes, which were coming along swimmingly, and wasn't it wonderful, to be able to say that? That something was coming along swimmingly? Absolutely wonderful.

Then he'd burned his hand while checking the vegetables, tripped on a spatula on the floor, swerved sideways and knocked the giant pot of mashed potatoes off and ended up in a giant mess on the floor.

Even worse, someone was witnessing his shame as he spoke. Well. Thought. But wasn't he speaking to himself? In his mind? The whole notion of thinking was a strange one indeed. Indeed, it---

"Huh?" Sam interrupted himself, blinking up owlishly at his white haired sibling. Sometimes, he really wondered whether he'd been a philosopher in a past life or something. "I figured everyone was out," He said honestly, blinking again to get potato out of his eyes, taking the offered cloth and wiping it away from his face. Ugh, his hair, his beautiful hair! "And you don't order people to do anything, Timothy. Besides, can't I cook for my family every now and then?"

Even if he had been planning on eating it all by himself.

[Avery Newfeld]

ACCEPTED!

Welcome to The Academy.
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