Name:

Bodhi Kazan Ariti

𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 𝐵𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔

(very ironic, I know)

Age:

22

Gender:

Male

Pronouns: he/him

Sexuality*:

Bisexual

Appearance:

Despite his human nature, Bodhi walks with an aura of a demon, or some other dark and unsettling form. When walking the streets, he is often avoided by young ones, and even some of the older children hang back at his seemingly ghastly presence. His skin is pale, almost deathly so, and despite nearly every moment of the day he walks the streets, but the sun seems to barely touch his ghostly flesh. His porcelain skin is something he prizes, obsesses over, even. He takes great care to keep his hands unmarred as possible. His back is nearly covered in scars, but he never speaks of where he gained these. He seems to thrive in the moonlight, when he stalks the streets, seeming even more devilish than he does in the sun.

His eyes are the colour of bitter coffee, dark, and unyielding, framed by strangely feminine eyelashes. He has high cheekbones, and a jawline sharp enough to cut diamonds. His dark hair is cut raggedly, longer on the top, and cut close around his skull on the sides. He has a lean, muscular build, and stands around 5'11. His shorter stature leaves people uneasy, wondering if his height is going to leave him at a disadvantage to them, or whether he will use it against them. He often speaks in a low, raspy voice, which doesn't quite seem to match his face, nor his age. His lips are round and full, a dusky rose colour. Despite the fact that they are often turned down in a frown, when he does smile, it lights up his whole face, causing one small dimple in his left cheek to appear. He is rather self-conscious of this feature, and this is a tiny part of the reason he normally chooses to keep his emotions hidden.

Bodhi dresses quite classily, in dark fabrics, often accentuated with gold or silver designs stitched in, such as paisleys (his personal favorite), roses, and feathers. These threads are usually hidden amongst the dark ones, causing the light to seemingly sparkle off the black and dark grey threads, which adds an air of mystery that he likes quite a bit. He has a tattoo on the back of his neck, a crow in flight, and a tiny sun on his right thumb. He has no piercings or any other man made marks upon his body, besides his scars. He normally stays as covered up as he can, in suits to rival Armani. Bodhi is rather broody, and often his face shows no emotion, besides a bit of a frown.

He walks with a slight limp, due to a childhood injury, and is highly irritated at this. He tries to act as though it doesn’t pain him at all, but once one knows him well, it is easy to catch the slight grimaces, and flashes of pain in his eyes.

Personality:

Bodhi isn't really that well known by anyone. He's mostly closed off, and those who don't know him well are eager to spread rumors.

Often described as cold and ruthless, Bodhi is willing to do almost any job for the right amount of money. He is rather manipulative and conniving, and is keen to let others know that he is in control of any situation. He is quick witted, and always has a trick up his sleeve, unless he's with someone he trusts with his life. He isn't a huge fan of trust, and will exploit almost anyone for his gain. Despite this, he is fiercely loyal to those he does love and trust, and once his trust is gained, it is not easily broken.

Bodhi is normally aloof and indifferent, hiding his true emotions behind a cool façade. However, he holds grudges close to his heart, and vengeance is practically his hobby. There isn't much you can do to rattle him, besides strong emotions. If someone is crying, or honestly feeling anything too strongly in front of him, he gets skittish and unwieldy. This stems mostly from his traumatic childhood, and he struggles with the fact that he doesn't really feel anymore.

One of Bodhi's biggest fears is mirrors. As a child, he learned to dislike his own appearance, and although he takes great pride in it now, he prefers to do as much of it as possible. This fears also comes from his uneasiness with how mirrors distort images, making him on edge with how appearances are not always what they seem.

Bodhi sometimes comes off as paranoid and lost in his own mind, he is good at riddles, problem solving, and is quite the perfectionist. When he finds his crowd, he is slightly more easy going, but for the most part, he prefers to be left with those select few, rather than in a group setting.

Backstory*: WIP

Likes:

-dark clothes

-money-

-riddles-

-sleight of hand-

-knives-

-poisons-

-foxglove-

Dislikes:

-mirrors-

-emotions-

-bright light-

-overly cheerful people-

-deep water-

Theme Song or Quote*:

Some Nights by fun.

Bodhi had stepped into the Great Hall, and was immediately hit with another feeling of extreme familiarity. How many times had he and his playmates scampered through this room, playing tag, or hide-and-seek? How many times, when the king was away, had they clambered onto the throne, and pretended to be the Sovereign of Reyes? Countless times, that was for certain. He closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, pushing the nostalgia away. It was now a short walk to the proper place before the dais where the Royal Family sat, and he pulled forth years worth of etiquette lessons that had been spurned greatly as a child.

He bowed deeply, crossed his right arm across his chest, pausing for a moment, then straightened. "My lord," he said, keeping his eyes lowered. This man, who he'd once considered to be almost a father, was no longer anything like that to him, and it hurt his heart to realize that it was truly time to walk away from what he considered his best of days. The King himself had changed as well, he was no longer the young, spry man that Bodhi had kept so close in his memory. Despite his best efforts, a memory floated to the front of his mind: the young king chasing them through the hallways, Bodhi clutching at Ian's shoulders, trying to pull him along faster, the small princess close on their heels. He cleared his throat, trying to repress the onslaught of echoes from times long past. "Commander Chalikov told me to come before you," he said, his voice low and raspy.

He tried to listen to the King's words, he really did. But he was distracted by the others in the room. He didn't bat an eye at the Princess. She barely looked any different than he remembered. The Queen Mother looked precisely how she always did, and a smile quirked his lips slightly. He'd never felt like the Queen cared for him particularly, but she was kind enough to step in when it was necessary, and he appreciated the many life lessons she had offered to him and his companions in their young, impressionable years. The one who caught his attention the most was Estella. She was standing by the door, and he had to work hard to hide his grin. So she had gotten her dream, or at least close to it. He wanted to run to her, congratulate her. It was something he had prayed for every evening, hoping that his cheerful, quiet compatriot had found a way to become all that she deserved to be.

Estella caught his eye, and frowned, clearly trying to tell him to listen to the words of his sovereign. He choked back a sigh, and slowly raised his gaze to study the dais. The King was finishing some pleasantries, and had moved in to the reason why Bodhi had been summoned in the first place, which caught the young knight's attention. To his utter dismay, the monarch was discussing why his daughter was being too carefree in a dangerous world, and how she was in need of a personal escort. He couldn't hide the horror in his eyes, and he stared at the floor to hide it. He knew that now, there was nothing he could do about it, but inside he was dying.

He had trained for years to get into the Fourth Battalion, one of the hardest troops to get into. He had left his home, his friends at only ten years old, and studied strategy and warfare for two years, rising before dawn, and staying up late into the night to be able to pass his classes before many other students. Then, he had gone out into the fields of real wars, risking his life for the country of Reyes, never once considering himself more important than any of his comrades. After nearly five years, he had finally been offered a position with the other young men in the Fourth Battalion, and it was one of his proudest achievements. He had quickly risen through the ranks there, and was well on his way to being able to take over from Commander Chalikov when the time came. And now, that was all going to pot.

He swallowed hard, and rubbed his eyes, then quickly fixed his face into a neutral expression, his eyes cold and hooded. "I am honored by your order, My Lord," he muttered, bowing again. After a few more quick exchanges with the King, Bodhi was ushered out, being taken to be fit for new armor, and then his new position would take effect in the afternoon. His shoulders slumped as his stepped out of the Great Hall, barely seeing the stone floor of the castle through his lowered lashes.