Application
name; Crin
personal lj; none
messenger; entropyflight (aim)
e-mail; ontheline [at] gmx [dot] com
other characters played; none
character; Noah "Gabranth" fon Ronsenburg
series; Final Fantasy XII; Dissidia
age; 36
class; Dark Knight
special abilities; Despite being a dark knight, Noah has the white magic ability/spell Renew, which restores all of his HP, reminiscent, in a way, of his tenacity to live. He also has a surprising immunity to several status effects: Reverse, Poison, Sleep, Petrify, Stop, Disable, Blind, and Berserk.
Due to his high ranking in the Archadian Military, Noah has a familiarity with airships, guns, and other types of technology known to Ivalice in general and Archadia in specific. For example, he's no precision sniper, but he could probably load and fire an older firearm (for example, Balthier's trademark sawed-off shotgun, as opposed to an automatic firearm like you'd find on FFVII's Gaia) and manage to hit a decent-sized target.
Noah also has this uncanny ability to pick up and correctly process scraps of information into coherent, /correct/ information. It makes it seem like he just knows things, from key details to obscure esoterica. An trait from his childhood honed to precision during his stint as Head of the Ninth Bureau.
His two Limit Breaks/Trance Attacks are Guilt and Innocence.
history; "Even a stray has pride." "Behold the power of a judge"
personality;Noah is a complicated man. He tends to come off as cynical, cold-hearted and rather ruthless,sometimes even downright malicious and cruel. In truth, he's a man dealt a bad hand by the fates, and he hides his opinions and emotions under a flat mask. With a firm sense of loyalty, he has tendency to fall into a 'my master, right or wrong' mindset. Part of this stems from his anger and hatred of himself and his perceived failings partnered with a preoccupation toward being the perfect servant (and, in essence, doing something /right/, even if it isn't exactly the morally kind of 'right').
He is one of those people who are quietly angry. Normally, you wouldn't notice a difference, his face subtly sets and he becomes more terse in his speech as the repressed feelings escalate. Noah holds himself to very high standards and, as a result, has an underlying self-loathing of himself and is prone to count his failures as inexcusable. This generates more hated and frustration and disappointment and self-loathing. His cold facade is a thin layer of crust with pressure steadily building up under it, and eventually he'll hit his threshold and erupt like a volcano.
Repression is his way of dealing with everything the world throws his way, from his parents' deaths, to Basch's leaving, to the takeover of Landis, to the actions he is forced to take. His adulthood has been little more than one huge regret, and he seeks absolution with the same tireless tenacity he fights to live.
When it counts, he puts others before himself and does indeed have a sense of nobility, even if he tends to be a mite more pragmatic (combat and otherwise) than Basch.
point in canon; Slowly bleeding his life out abroad the Strahl, but still fixable. {Post Dissidia} As is common among individuals who have suffer a concussive force (and getting punched halfway across a room hard enough that the steel armor on your face was busted off would count, yes) his memory at the moment is rather spotty. His youth is perfectly fine, but it becomes a bit sketchy up to Nalbina Fortress, and past that all he can remember without prompting are scattered, isolated incidents.
place of arrival; Lindblum
starter task?; yes, please
first person sample;
Taken from the desk of Gabranth; a seeming letter of state and an office memo:
The Honourable Gabranth, Justice
Judge Magister of the Archadian Empire
to Sir Basch fon Ronsenburg
Captain of the Guard, Royal House of Dalmasca
on the subject of unresolved business between these respective parties.
Captain Basch,
This letter was intended as a post-mortem dispatch, and should you receive it, I have died in a way that did not facilitate an overly-long farewell. Now, let us dispense with formalities:
Brother,
I did not receive the chance to tell you this, but I desire that you know, if for no other reason than to lay some of your burdens to rest.
I forgive you. I forgive you for running to Dalmasca when it was certain that Landis would fall, for leaving mother and I alone and going on to keep fighting for a cause that, as you are reading this letter, has most likely been accomplished. Even had you not done the right thing, I have no right to judge you.
Lords know I turned out worse.
In truth, brother, my only anger I hold to your leaving is aimed towards myself, that I was not brave enough to pack up and help mother and myself and go with you.
For a long time, I was proud; proud with mother's stiff-necked Archadian pride and yet with none of her tempering gentleness and kindness. Proud and angry and hateful. To the world, to the gods, to the invaders, and to you. There is little I regret more.
Basch, brother, foremost of all that this letter contains, explanation and apology and truth, is that I love you, and I wish that we could have fought alongside each other just a little longer.
Rest, brother, and be at peace with your honor and integrity. Absolve yourself of any guilt you feel related to me and my mistakes. This I ask of you, for I lived the remainder of my life as a world of nothing more than remorse, and I would not have you take up that mantle of mine.
…
It is my sincere wish that this clarifies and settles all disagreements between the respective parties, at least until a more formal and permanent agreement can be reached.
Sincerest Regards,
Judge Magister Gabranth
Justice of the Archadian Empire
Head of the Ninth Bureau
----------
NINTH BUREAU OFFICE MEMORANDUM
TO: Ghis
FROM: Gabranth
SUBJECT: Out, damned splotch.
Ghis,
As utterly fascinating as your experiments are, including the ones I did not ask for, please do not place them on my desk. There are official state documents that I would rather not have to replace. I have placed a wooden bench in my office for your experiment-placing convenience. Please, Use it.
-Gabranth
third person sample;
Zecht knitted his brows in concentration and likely frustration while Gabranth remained frustratingly blank, for all that he had to restrain a smile from his lips.
It had been easy, ridiculously easy, to goad his 'mentor' into a private game. Before, in their matches of Impetere, he had played the game the way Basch would have played it, endlessly an tirelessly defending his place with fair play and clinging to lands already lost. Gabranth didn't play that way; Gabranth had learned through blood and toil and tears that such a gambit amounted to nothing. Archadia had not been kind, but it had been a good teacher nonetheless.
When his mentor had accepted the match, this was not what he had expected; Gabranth could tell from the way he'd gotten increasingly more agitated.
It had started out "normal" enough, concentrated troops in the same areas and smaller deployments among his other "starting" territories. He'd let the Judge Magister sweep along the land, building up his troop numbers slowly, so far spread and in such small increments that Zecht hadn't noticed until he had ruthlessly turned the tables, forcing the higher-ranked Judge into a desperate man's war of attrition. His Lordship Emperor Gramis had placed favor in him, and he was ready to prove he could earn it.
Now, though, Zecht wasn't looking at the board at all, and Gabranth couldn't help but feel the churning of his ever-present anger rise dangerously close to the surface as he shoved it down. He had failed, again, despite his advantage, despite the fact he was winning, because no one would see him succeed.
So wrapped up in his own frustrations he was caught off guard by the man's words. "You are alive, Noah! A living, breathing Hume. Not a statue of stone. Show some pride in your accomplishment. You'll live your life under a helmet that shows no emotions, do not be afraid to show them."
Years later, it was those words he remembered when Vayne confronted him with a past he had tried to forget.
"Did you know your look alike stands as Captain of the Guard in Dalmasca? Such an unfortunate resemblance. Of course, you would know nothing of this Basch, would you?" Gabranth hated that smile. Like a satisfied cat having feasted on the canary and given a helping of cream for it's efforts.
"Milord."
Gabranth didn't need the helmet when he received the orders to impersonate is second half. He didn't flinch; there wasn't even the slightest twitch on expression. Emotions were useless, impeding. They hindered his service to his lord. What good were the words of a man who'd fled, anyways?
And if somewhere inside him a young man cried out and mourned for the brother he was about to lose yet again, he went unacknowledged.
personal lj; none
messenger; entropyflight (aim)
e-mail; ontheline [at] gmx [dot] com
other characters played; none
character; Noah "Gabranth" fon Ronsenburg
series; Final Fantasy XII; Dissidia
age; 36
class; Dark Knight
special abilities; Despite being a dark knight, Noah has the white magic ability/spell Renew, which restores all of his HP, reminiscent, in a way, of his tenacity to live. He also has a surprising immunity to several status effects: Reverse, Poison, Sleep, Petrify, Stop, Disable, Blind, and Berserk.
Due to his high ranking in the Archadian Military, Noah has a familiarity with airships, guns, and other types of technology known to Ivalice in general and Archadia in specific. For example, he's no precision sniper, but he could probably load and fire an older firearm (for example, Balthier's trademark sawed-off shotgun, as opposed to an automatic firearm like you'd find on FFVII's Gaia) and manage to hit a decent-sized target.
Noah also has this uncanny ability to pick up and correctly process scraps of information into coherent, /correct/ information. It makes it seem like he just knows things, from key details to obscure esoterica. An trait from his childhood honed to precision during his stint as Head of the Ninth Bureau.
His two Limit Breaks/Trance Attacks are Guilt and Innocence.
history; "Even a stray has pride." "Behold the power of a judge"
personality;Noah is a complicated man. He tends to come off as cynical, cold-hearted and rather ruthless,sometimes even downright malicious and cruel. In truth, he's a man dealt a bad hand by the fates, and he hides his opinions and emotions under a flat mask. With a firm sense of loyalty, he has tendency to fall into a 'my master, right or wrong' mindset. Part of this stems from his anger and hatred of himself and his perceived failings partnered with a preoccupation toward being the perfect servant (and, in essence, doing something /right/, even if it isn't exactly the morally kind of 'right').
He is one of those people who are quietly angry. Normally, you wouldn't notice a difference, his face subtly sets and he becomes more terse in his speech as the repressed feelings escalate. Noah holds himself to very high standards and, as a result, has an underlying self-loathing of himself and is prone to count his failures as inexcusable. This generates more hated and frustration and disappointment and self-loathing. His cold facade is a thin layer of crust with pressure steadily building up under it, and eventually he'll hit his threshold and erupt like a volcano.
Repression is his way of dealing with everything the world throws his way, from his parents' deaths, to Basch's leaving, to the takeover of Landis, to the actions he is forced to take. His adulthood has been little more than one huge regret, and he seeks absolution with the same tireless tenacity he fights to live.
When it counts, he puts others before himself and does indeed have a sense of nobility, even if he tends to be a mite more pragmatic (combat and otherwise) than Basch.
point in canon; Slowly bleeding his life out abroad the Strahl, but still fixable. {Post Dissidia} As is common among individuals who have suffer a concussive force (and getting punched halfway across a room hard enough that the steel armor on your face was busted off would count, yes) his memory at the moment is rather spotty. His youth is perfectly fine, but it becomes a bit sketchy up to Nalbina Fortress, and past that all he can remember without prompting are scattered, isolated incidents.
place of arrival; Lindblum
starter task?; yes, please
first person sample;
Taken from the desk of Gabranth; a seeming letter of state and an office memo:
The Honourable Gabranth, Justice
Judge Magister of the Archadian Empire
to Sir Basch fon Ronsenburg
Captain of the Guard, Royal House of Dalmasca
on the subject of unresolved business between these respective parties.
Captain Basch,
This letter was intended as a post-mortem dispatch, and should you receive it, I have died in a way that did not facilitate an overly-long farewell. Now, let us dispense with formalities:
Brother,
I did not receive the chance to tell you this, but I desire that you know, if for no other reason than to lay some of your burdens to rest.
I forgive you. I forgive you for running to Dalmasca when it was certain that Landis would fall, for leaving mother and I alone and going on to keep fighting for a cause that, as you are reading this letter, has most likely been accomplished. Even had you not done the right thing, I have no right to judge you.
Lords know I turned out worse.
In truth, brother, my only anger I hold to your leaving is aimed towards myself, that I was not brave enough to pack up and help mother and myself and go with you.
For a long time, I was proud; proud with mother's stiff-necked Archadian pride and yet with none of her tempering gentleness and kindness. Proud and angry and hateful. To the world, to the gods, to the invaders, and to you. There is little I regret more.
Basch, brother, foremost of all that this letter contains, explanation and apology and truth, is that I love you, and I wish that we could have fought alongside each other just a little longer.
Rest, brother, and be at peace with your honor and integrity. Absolve yourself of any guilt you feel related to me and my mistakes. This I ask of you, for I lived the remainder of my life as a world of nothing more than remorse, and I would not have you take up that mantle of mine.
…
It is my sincere wish that this clarifies and settles all disagreements between the respective parties, at least until a more formal and permanent agreement can be reached.
Sincerest Regards,
Judge Magister Gabranth
Justice of the Archadian Empire
Head of the Ninth Bureau
----------
NINTH BUREAU OFFICE MEMORANDUM
TO: Ghis
FROM: Gabranth
SUBJECT: Out, damned splotch.
Ghis,
As utterly fascinating as your experiments are, including the ones I did not ask for, please do not place them on my desk. There are official state documents that I would rather not have to replace. I have placed a wooden bench in my office for your experiment-placing convenience. Please, Use it.
-Gabranth
third person sample;
Zecht knitted his brows in concentration and likely frustration while Gabranth remained frustratingly blank, for all that he had to restrain a smile from his lips.
It had been easy, ridiculously easy, to goad his 'mentor' into a private game. Before, in their matches of Impetere, he had played the game the way Basch would have played it, endlessly an tirelessly defending his place with fair play and clinging to lands already lost. Gabranth didn't play that way; Gabranth had learned through blood and toil and tears that such a gambit amounted to nothing. Archadia had not been kind, but it had been a good teacher nonetheless.
When his mentor had accepted the match, this was not what he had expected; Gabranth could tell from the way he'd gotten increasingly more agitated.
It had started out "normal" enough, concentrated troops in the same areas and smaller deployments among his other "starting" territories. He'd let the Judge Magister sweep along the land, building up his troop numbers slowly, so far spread and in such small increments that Zecht hadn't noticed until he had ruthlessly turned the tables, forcing the higher-ranked Judge into a desperate man's war of attrition. His Lordship Emperor Gramis had placed favor in him, and he was ready to prove he could earn it.
Now, though, Zecht wasn't looking at the board at all, and Gabranth couldn't help but feel the churning of his ever-present anger rise dangerously close to the surface as he shoved it down. He had failed, again, despite his advantage, despite the fact he was winning, because no one would see him succeed.
So wrapped up in his own frustrations he was caught off guard by the man's words. "You are alive, Noah! A living, breathing Hume. Not a statue of stone. Show some pride in your accomplishment. You'll live your life under a helmet that shows no emotions, do not be afraid to show them."
Years later, it was those words he remembered when Vayne confronted him with a past he had tried to forget.
"Did you know your look alike stands as Captain of the Guard in Dalmasca? Such an unfortunate resemblance. Of course, you would know nothing of this Basch, would you?" Gabranth hated that smile. Like a satisfied cat having feasted on the canary and given a helping of cream for it's efforts.
"Milord."
Gabranth didn't need the helmet when he received the orders to impersonate is second half. He didn't flinch; there wasn't even the slightest twitch on expression. Emotions were useless, impeding. They hindered his service to his lord. What good were the words of a man who'd fled, anyways?
And if somewhere inside him a young man cried out and mourned for the brother he was about to lose yet again, he went unacknowledged.