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releasethetruth

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TO UNEXPLAIN THE UNFORGIVEABLE

(so I can't hurt you anymore)

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Created on 2011-12-17 00:03:07 (#1138927), last updated 2012-01-18 (696 weeks ago)

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About

Name:	Symeon

Mini Bio

quote to go here

.basics.

Character Name: Symeon
Age: 2930 31
Birthday: December 22nd, 595
Class: Physician (prepromoted)
Country: Korin
Languages: Trade (fluent), Korin (fluent), High Korin (very good), Old Korin (very good), Old High Korin (very good), Dentorian (decent)
Family: Mother // Fiona (deceased), Father // William (deceased), Sister // Kouri (deceased), Nephew // Myca, Wife // Kyrene (deceased), Daughters // Lissandra, Lian, Linnell

.history.

Symeon was always an anomaly: growing up male surrounded by strong women, the heir to House Veirnan, one of the minor noble houses of Korin, where traditionally male births among the noble family were few and far between, he had only truly his elder sister Kouri and his mother, Fiona, to look to for role models, as his father, William, had died of illness when he was small. It didn't help matters any that his mother, who ruled Veirnan in her own right, was extraordinarily steely, outspoken, and formidable, with an indomitable will and spirit, and that his sister was much the same way, if much more soft-spoken then Fiona. The frequent clashes between mother and daughter made life interesting, especially for a sensitive, soft-spoken boy who spent much of his early childhood caught in the crossfire.

He was groomed in what he would need to know in order to rule Veirnan: however, he proved to be an utter disappointment when it came to the use of any and all mundane, non-magical weapons. Though magic ran strongly in the blood of Symeon's family, it was Fiona's opinion-not to mention the fact that she herself, as well as Kouri, were both skilled fencers as well as healers-that it would be necessary, if possible, for a ruler to at least have some knowledge of weapons outside of magic, and her son's utter ineptitude with weapons frustrated her as much as she was proud of his skill with light magic and healing. Otherwise, Symeon learned his lessons well.

For two years, beginning when Symeon was six, Kouri carried on a secret romance with Valyn, a Kilian mage who came to a nearby town on the border between Kilia and Korin quite frequently: the two had met by chance, and it was love at first sight. Symeon was the only one who knew-he was remarkably closed-mouthed for a child-, and often covered for his sister when she was out meeting her lover, especially as they knew that Fiona would disapprove. And she, predictably enough, exploded when she found out about said romance. Finally, when Symeon was eight, shortly after Fiona found out, Kouri eloped with Valyn: Fiona was furious when she found out, even more then before.

Kouri continued writing to Symeon, secretly, and the two kept up a correspondence that would last the rest of Kouri's life. Symeon had adored his elder sister, looked up to her, and missed her, greatly, once she was gone. He saw her occasionally once he was a teenager, sneaking out to meet her somewhere, aided and abetted by the young pegasus knight Edeyn, the eldest daughter of a family who had served Veirnan for a long time, who was being groomed to be one of his advisors.

When he was sixteen, he married Kyrene of House Thagia: while he and Kyrene both were not quite of age yet (she was a year older), neither of them were so young as to have it be unheard of. And he fell deeply in love with Kyrene, with all the love of an untried teenager, first love: if she had lived, perhaps it would have matured in time, but she died the next year, giving birth to their three daughters: Lissandra, Lian, and Linnell. Heartbroken, Symeon ended up sinking into melancholy, which he was only forced out of the next winter, upon receiving a letter from his sister: she and her family had taken ill, her husband was dying, and she wanted to see him. Perhaps she already knew that she was going to die, Symeon quietly believes in hindsight, though there was no way anyone would ever know.

Even though he dropped everything immediately, by the time he got to where his sister and her family were living, she, Valyn, and five of their six children were dead. Only Myca, the youngest, was still alive, and barely: despite all predictions to the contrary, he lived. Symeon-having utterly no intention of asking his mother for permission, not that she would have said no, for she had forgiven Kouri years before, but in her pride had not said anything, and Kouri had been the apple of her eye-took Myca in as his ward, and taking care of his daughters, as well as his cousin, managed to keep him from being overwhelmed by his grief this time.

And to his horror, he found himself quietly fascinated by his young, innocent cousin, a fascination that despite himself, grew, he found himself falling in love with him. Falling in love with his sister's only surviving child, a child so very fragile and so very dependent on him, he knew that it was wrong, wrong, wrong, that it shouldn't be and that he would be damned, but no matter how much he tried, he could not force himself to fall out of love. Could not deny it, could not deny the utterly *wrong* desire that he felt, could not deny no matter how much he tried, that he wanted Myca desperately.

And then, the third blow came. His mother fell ill, with an illness that no healer, no matter how skilled, could identify, or stop, an excruciatingly painful illness that caused her to waste away. No matter how much Symeon tried, even all his skill was not enough to keep her alive: and she died six years ago, when Symeon was twenty-three. Within the space of only five years, he had lost his wife, his sister, and finally, his mother.

And in the darkness, alone, he realized that he could not bear to be alone. That his heart could not take any more loss, any more heartbreak.

His quiet desperation built, and built, and built, until finally, in a moment of weakness, he drugged his eleven-year old cousin-it was easy, with his knowledge of healing and herbalism-and gave into his deeply hidden, deeply secret desires. And despite his own horror at his own actions, his regret, his remorse, he didn't stop after the first time.

Six years later, Symeon knows he is caught in a web of lies and deceit of his own making.

And he doesn't know any way out.

.personality.

Symeon is a very complex man, though he often seems easy to read, and all his many sides are genuine. To his people, he is bright and cheerful, a just, fair, and kind ruler, which he is, and a good ruler: he has a strong sense of honor, a very sensitive conscience, and a strong sense of right and wrong. Rather gentle and a caregiver by nature, he cares easily, especially for the lost, and he is extremely protective. To the point of being *overprotective*. He tries to raise his three daughters (and Myca, though in recent years, he's become much less of a substitute parental figure to his cousin, though what he is exactly remains nebulous at best) the best that he can, even with his thus-far refusal to remarry.

He is known to be rather eccentric, and a bit of a character: despite usually being rather graceful, he tends to drop things, especially his ink, and flail in the privacy of his study when he is having a worrying fit, as well as be a touch forgetful at times.Despite this deceptively harmless outside appearance, he is far more dangerous then he seems: he is *quite* intelligent, quietly canny, an uncommonly good strategist, and above all, subtle: he is the master of playing harmless, holding his cards close to his chest and simply waiting, a master of illusion and deception, of sweet lies scattered among his truths, extraordinarily subtle. He hides much, whether it be truly needful, or simply to lessen the worry others may feel for him: while he worries a lot about others, he prefers that people not worry about him: one of the things he hides is simply his own sorrow, the fact that he is haunted by a great many things.

While he is capable of some truly dark things-and perhaps his own dark side is particularly frightening because of how kind and gentle he truly is-he is not ruthless. Usually. And when he is, he regrets it. Unless, of course, what triggered it involved someone threatening or hurting those he cares about, those he loves: then, there will be no remorse.

Symeon is not forceful, soft-spoken and gentle, never raising his voice even when angered (though he has mastered a trick of how to make people hear him without resorting to shouting), and often, to someone who doesn't know him well, seems passive, submissive, and yielding, especially compared to his relatively recently deceased mother Fiona, who was a stubborn, outspoken, forceful woman: he does not give orders very often, but prefers soft-spoken "suggestions". Suggestions that he expects to be carried out. He is slow to anger, but when he is angry-it takes a great deal to make him angry, but the surest way is to hurt or threaten to hurt someone he cares about-beware.

Unfortunately, Symeon is more then a little messed up in the head. When he loves-and while he craves affection, and has an extraordinary amount of love to give, he does not give away his heart easily-he loves with all he has, never by halves, he puts his whole heart into it, past sanity, past obsession, he feels entirely too much, is incapable of either apathy or numbness. Most of the people he has ever loved has died young, or died and he could do nothing to help them despite his considerable skill as a healer, or both, and he cannot help but want to hold onto those few he has left, hold onto them with every fiber of his being. And those he loves, he will kill for, without a second of remorse.

He puts most of his energy into making the lives of others worthwhile, of putting others first, of being as close to selfless as he can: Symeon is absolutely terrified of being selfish, because the few times he has been-all concerning his cousin-have turned into a disaster and what he wishes to take back, more then anything in the world, but he cannot. He keeps close to his heart the lesson that his mother taught him about ruling, and that he tries to teach his daughters: that a ruler's first duty is to his people, not himself, that a lord must serve his people, for without them he is nothing.

Guilt tears at him inside, for what he knows he has done, but while he wants to stop, he is weak, and knows that he is damned for what he has done, knows that he has woven himself into a trap from which there is no escape. And while he knows on the inside that he should be happy, for he finally has everything he ever wanted...he is secretly unhappy, and knows that it is his fault. And he will do anything, anything at all, even give his own life, to atone. He hates himself, for being so weak as to do what he has to his unknowing cousin, and he is secretly an emotional masochist: something inside him craves to be hurt, demands that he put himself or be put through emotional pain, for he feels that is nothing more then what he deserves.

.appearance.

Tall-about six feet tall, give or take an inch-very pale, willow-slender, even slight, and strikingly beautiful, with rather pretty, feminine features, with green eyes and long blond hair, which he usually wears loose, Symeon takes very strongly after his deceased mother in appearance, with no trace of the deceased father he never knew in his features-it was his sister who inherited their father's coloring, pale and dark-haired-favoring simple yet elegant white clothing with silver accents as his mother did. Usually smiling-and it's a very bad sign when he's not smiling, running would be well-advised-he moves with perfect grace and dignity...well, except when he's tripping over himself, which happens surprisingly often when he doesn't need to be graceful. Hence why he stopped any attempt to learn the sword or any weapon that isn't magical. Other then the fact that it would be very bad if he sliced himself open by accident.

Symeon has learned to hide the trace of sadness that lurks in his eyes, the sorrow that tinges his smile: it would make people worry, and he does not want anyone to worry about him. Only someone who knows him very, very well could ever detect those traces of ever-present sorrow.

.verse.

Seasons change us
This moment envisions eternity
I see slowly the shadows belong to me
Feel my emotions, believe me
It's just like a summer breeze
Sorrow changes us
This moment envisions eternity

Losing all senses
What did we become?
Someone grew stronger, while some other passed
This is what remains
Ashes and dreams of better days

.disclaimer.

Symeon is a fictional character, given life and form by