Post by Domenic Morris on Sept 3, 2014 9:21:28 GMT
Name: Domenick Morris
Age: 18, Born July 4th 1567
Rank: Ensign, Assigned to the Dragon Praenuntius, under the command of Captain Nathanial Derrik
Nationality: English Mixed
Appearance: Dom stands at 5'8 with a slim and broad frame to him, his shoulders flat and hands rough and callous with many long healed cuts to them. He's a bit on the scrawny side, though has enough muscle on him to make him an average build. He's a bit on the more tanner side with a mop of wavy black hair upon his head, and light blue almost grey eyes. Dom stands with a natural stoop to his back, even when holding his head up high and his back straight, an oddity of birth or conditioning of his life, he can't be certain. He has a strong jaw and a broad nose, a bit of a stout face with pronounced cheekbones and full cheeks. Often times he'll have a stern expression on his face naturally, and his smile has a somewhat forced feeling to it, and so he mostly settles for small grins instead.
Personal History: Domenic was born poor during his life, never knowing who his father was outside of his name, for which he took as his own, and his mother being what his adoptive father Mark Morris called "A courtesan of the people". Dom was raised by Mr. Morris, who took in all the bastard born from his female employees, as one of "Morris's Boys", taught how to pickpocket and clean up after clients were done in the hobble that Mr. Morris called home. Most of his childhood is somewhat blank in Domenic's mind, though what he does remember in the flashes of important bits, getting slapped across the room for trying to stop one of Mr. Morris's discipline sessions with his mother, Almost getting his hand caught under a carriage wheel trying to pick up a cut coin purse, one of his friends falling from the roof and having to leave him for the rats to claim. For the most part however, his recollection is a blur say for the day he finally got away from Mr Morris. It happened when Domenic was 13, and his mother dying, with Mr. Morris trying to get his mother wrapped in a sheet when Domenic came in, seeing the marks on his mothers neck and the blood on Mr. Morris's shirt. Domenic had his small knife he used to cut purses, and used it satisfyingly on the old mans throat, before fleeing with whatever coin he could snatch and cloth he could grab to wear in the cold. Dom had no where to go after that, daring not to return to inner London and face the wrath of his brothers, he drifted for a few months, making it out towards the southern coast until he came to Kent.
Resting at an inn between two towns, he heard talk of dragons at a covert, hushed whispers about the folks who lived there and of the Royal Aerial Corps. Domenic hadn't heard of the thing before, even living in London as long as he had, and by the way they talked it all sounded like a sweet deal, getting to work for royalty and getting to have big old viscous lizards at your beck and call sounded pretty good to him. Domenic found a way to enlist into the aerial corps, being assigned as a runner for the covert where he learned more about dragons, and about being part of the air corps. During his long 5 years in service, Domenic learned a lot about responsibility and respect, breaking free from what he saw were chains from his old life and forging a new and better path with them, using the skills he'd picked up during his life as a thief to actual good in helping to man a dragon. Years on the street had taught him to be nimble, and the beatings of his youth were more then enough to make him know how not to make careless mistakes. He rose the ranks slow and steady, earning his place and even managing to pick up a few new skills along with his old, and before even he knew it, domenic had managed to make it to being on the crew of a dragon.
His starting position was of course working the rigging, which he found to be surprisingly easy even when the dragons rose up into the air, though the winds about them as they flew always gave his heart the jitters. Domenic himself however didn't mind, being amazed at the beasts so powerful as a dragon, and always showed a tentative and cautious respect when approaching them. Domenic viewed the dragons not as dumb beasts but as powerful ones, majestic as they flew through the air and in battle, and almost envied them, even with the conditions for which they lived. From personal experience domenic knew that life could be crueler than sticking you with a partner for life who had your interest at heart. During one o the flights, domenic spotted a problem with some rigging coming too close to the wings joint and making the dragon uncomfortable. He fixed it himself, only to have the more senior of their crew confront him as he was climbing down, claiming that domenic was trying to screw with the securing ropes. Domenic said what he did, insisting it'd help the dragon fly better, and after the crewman threw an insult about his mother, domenic threw a punch for his face. The two scuffled, the older member calling him a beast as dumb as the dragons, which earned him more punches from dom and eventually the fight being broken up by a future captain, Nathanial Derrik.
Domenic didn't think much of telling Nathanial about why he'd gotten into a fight, or about the senior crewmans insults to him and to the dragons, seeing it as just saying what happened. He was prepared to go back to his usual work of tying up the lines when he was told of Captain Derrik making him an ensign. The news was a shock to domenic, but he was overjoyed nonetheless. Ever since, Domenic has vowed to do his best to live up to nathanial's expectations, and views himself as now owing a personal debt to the captain, which he will do what he can do repay.
Reputation: Domenic has a reputation one who grew up a street urchin in London could expect, a usual distrust from those who only know his history, or a combination of either pity or disgust for his lower lot in life. He's nimble and doesn't dilly dally, and has uncannily good instict when it comes to explosives or artillery. He's known to be good with a knife, less so when treating wounds then inflicting them, but he can clean and bandage a wound decently. He's also been known to treat the dragons he works on with care, and to get a bit confrontational with those who mistreat them, and animals in general one could assume from what shall be dubbed the horse incident.
Character Skills:
Fighting
--Sword: 25
--Musket: 50
--Small Blades: 50
Political
--Charm: 30
--Intimidation: 40
Physical Abilities
--Concealment: 50
--Sneaking: 50
--Observation: 50
--Unarmed combat: 50
--Agility: 40
--Sleight of Hand: 40
-Drinking: 40
Misc
Medicine
--Human: 30
--Dragon: 30
Knowledge
--Dragons: 25
[/b]
Age: 18, Born July 4th 1567
Rank: Ensign, Assigned to the Dragon Praenuntius, under the command of Captain Nathanial Derrik
Nationality: English Mixed
Appearance: Dom stands at 5'8 with a slim and broad frame to him, his shoulders flat and hands rough and callous with many long healed cuts to them. He's a bit on the scrawny side, though has enough muscle on him to make him an average build. He's a bit on the more tanner side with a mop of wavy black hair upon his head, and light blue almost grey eyes. Dom stands with a natural stoop to his back, even when holding his head up high and his back straight, an oddity of birth or conditioning of his life, he can't be certain. He has a strong jaw and a broad nose, a bit of a stout face with pronounced cheekbones and full cheeks. Often times he'll have a stern expression on his face naturally, and his smile has a somewhat forced feeling to it, and so he mostly settles for small grins instead.
Personal History: Domenic was born poor during his life, never knowing who his father was outside of his name, for which he took as his own, and his mother being what his adoptive father Mark Morris called "A courtesan of the people". Dom was raised by Mr. Morris, who took in all the bastard born from his female employees, as one of "Morris's Boys", taught how to pickpocket and clean up after clients were done in the hobble that Mr. Morris called home. Most of his childhood is somewhat blank in Domenic's mind, though what he does remember in the flashes of important bits, getting slapped across the room for trying to stop one of Mr. Morris's discipline sessions with his mother, Almost getting his hand caught under a carriage wheel trying to pick up a cut coin purse, one of his friends falling from the roof and having to leave him for the rats to claim. For the most part however, his recollection is a blur say for the day he finally got away from Mr Morris. It happened when Domenic was 13, and his mother dying, with Mr. Morris trying to get his mother wrapped in a sheet when Domenic came in, seeing the marks on his mothers neck and the blood on Mr. Morris's shirt. Domenic had his small knife he used to cut purses, and used it satisfyingly on the old mans throat, before fleeing with whatever coin he could snatch and cloth he could grab to wear in the cold. Dom had no where to go after that, daring not to return to inner London and face the wrath of his brothers, he drifted for a few months, making it out towards the southern coast until he came to Kent.
Resting at an inn between two towns, he heard talk of dragons at a covert, hushed whispers about the folks who lived there and of the Royal Aerial Corps. Domenic hadn't heard of the thing before, even living in London as long as he had, and by the way they talked it all sounded like a sweet deal, getting to work for royalty and getting to have big old viscous lizards at your beck and call sounded pretty good to him. Domenic found a way to enlist into the aerial corps, being assigned as a runner for the covert where he learned more about dragons, and about being part of the air corps. During his long 5 years in service, Domenic learned a lot about responsibility and respect, breaking free from what he saw were chains from his old life and forging a new and better path with them, using the skills he'd picked up during his life as a thief to actual good in helping to man a dragon. Years on the street had taught him to be nimble, and the beatings of his youth were more then enough to make him know how not to make careless mistakes. He rose the ranks slow and steady, earning his place and even managing to pick up a few new skills along with his old, and before even he knew it, domenic had managed to make it to being on the crew of a dragon.
His starting position was of course working the rigging, which he found to be surprisingly easy even when the dragons rose up into the air, though the winds about them as they flew always gave his heart the jitters. Domenic himself however didn't mind, being amazed at the beasts so powerful as a dragon, and always showed a tentative and cautious respect when approaching them. Domenic viewed the dragons not as dumb beasts but as powerful ones, majestic as they flew through the air and in battle, and almost envied them, even with the conditions for which they lived. From personal experience domenic knew that life could be crueler than sticking you with a partner for life who had your interest at heart. During one o the flights, domenic spotted a problem with some rigging coming too close to the wings joint and making the dragon uncomfortable. He fixed it himself, only to have the more senior of their crew confront him as he was climbing down, claiming that domenic was trying to screw with the securing ropes. Domenic said what he did, insisting it'd help the dragon fly better, and after the crewman threw an insult about his mother, domenic threw a punch for his face. The two scuffled, the older member calling him a beast as dumb as the dragons, which earned him more punches from dom and eventually the fight being broken up by a future captain, Nathanial Derrik.
Domenic didn't think much of telling Nathanial about why he'd gotten into a fight, or about the senior crewmans insults to him and to the dragons, seeing it as just saying what happened. He was prepared to go back to his usual work of tying up the lines when he was told of Captain Derrik making him an ensign. The news was a shock to domenic, but he was overjoyed nonetheless. Ever since, Domenic has vowed to do his best to live up to nathanial's expectations, and views himself as now owing a personal debt to the captain, which he will do what he can do repay.
Reputation: Domenic has a reputation one who grew up a street urchin in London could expect, a usual distrust from those who only know his history, or a combination of either pity or disgust for his lower lot in life. He's nimble and doesn't dilly dally, and has uncannily good instict when it comes to explosives or artillery. He's known to be good with a knife, less so when treating wounds then inflicting them, but he can clean and bandage a wound decently. He's also been known to treat the dragons he works on with care, and to get a bit confrontational with those who mistreat them, and animals in general one could assume from what shall be dubbed the horse incident.
Character Skills:
Fighting
--Sword: 25
--Musket: 50
--Small Blades: 50
Political
--Charm: 30
--Intimidation: 40
Physical Abilities
--Concealment: 50
--Sneaking: 50
--Observation: 50
--Unarmed combat: 50
--Agility: 40
--Sleight of Hand: 40
-Drinking: 40
Misc
Medicine
--Human: 30
--Dragon: 30
Knowledge
--Dragons: 25
[/b]