Full name: Davven Delmar.
Date of Birth: 20th May.
Left Eye: Emerald Green.
Right Eye: White.
Job/Occupation: Wandered. ( » )
Known Skills: Advanced Gunslinger/Stalker
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Orientation: 99%Gay 1% Straight. ( xD )
*See Pic for Description »;*
Davven's personality is hard to get. He is quite confused and doesn't seem to know what
he really wants from life. He doesn't like to talk much, and when he does so, his sarcasm
takes a lot of place in his few conversations. Davven prefers to be alone, with no one to
bother him. He misses having friends around, but because of his past, he decided to let
no one get close to him, to evade History-Similarities. He acts mean to almost everyone who
tries to talk to him, and those few he talks to, well, don't expect he gives them a daily hug.
He Also tries to be emotionless, not try to laugh, nor show he's sad at times.
Davven Delmar was born a twin, but the other twin died at birth. This occurance brought sadness
in Delmar's family; so he doesn't really know what parents love is. When Davven was seven, he
went to the church with his family, like any other Sunday. Whilst there, with everyone listening to
the priest, an earthquake shook Shyden. Tragically, one of the statues of the gods/goddesses
fell beside him, killing his parents.
After the incident, Davven was taken to an orphanage in Shyden. That is where his misery continued.
A few older kids bullied Davven and beat him up several times, telling him how they didn't
want him there. Eric, another orphan, couldn't stand by watching him get beaten up all the time, but he was
too scared to get involved. So Eric approached Davven, and told him about an idea of escaping he had.
Davven, being a seven-year-old kid, didn't think twice.
Later that day, Davven and Eric sneaked out from the bathroom window. They ran as fast as they
could to the Shyden port, as if their lives depended on it. When they finally saw the ship, they smiled, feeling freedom awaited them. From there, it was also too easy to stow-away in a crate and board the ship. Once the ship set sail, they got out from the crates and peeked out through a porthole to watch Shyden disappear slowly into the mist of the night. They smiled at eachother and start laugh and hug. They scampered light-footedly around the basement in joy, til they
were spent. They fell asleep, side-by-side, among barrels packed with crew rations.
Boom! That's what woke the kids up. The ship shook, men could be heard screaming; "Bandits!"
Davven and Eric lay paralyzed and unable to speak. the screaming never ceased, though the volume and tone changed. It became weaker, as if the people screaming were slowly losing the will to scream at all..
Eventually, the sea-bandits descended into the basement. The boys were discovered and dragged up onto the deck, kicking and yelling. On top, the ship was set ablaze and the shadows of flames danced across the boys faced as they were flung down in front of what they could only assume was the Head Pirate.
"Well Well well, what do we haaaave here?" The creepy dude asked, giving the boys a nudge with his boot-toe.
Davven glared up at the man, who fidgeted uncomfortably before a bizarre grin stretched across his face.
"But I have a brilliant idea! And it'll mean only one of you squirts will live to see tomorrow's dawn." He chuckled and turned to grin at his motley crew, who nudged eachother and leered at the two helpless boys.
A rusty dagger was dropped between the two boys, who stared at it uncertainly. The crew took up a chant: "Fight! Fight!" Neither of the boys moved to pick up the weapon. The Captain unholstered a pistol and took careful aim at Eric: "Grab the damn dagger, or you'll BOTH die tonight"
Eric looked at Davven and whispered to him "Take it, and do it". Davven shook his head, his eyes wide and fearful.
Eric stood up and kicked Davven in the stomach "Fight back!". Eric sounded convinced that he wanted to do this
but his eyes said otherwise. Davven stood up slowly, holding his stomach, gritting his teeth from the pain as he replied to
Eric "W-what are you doing?!" as his eyes slowly filled with tears. Eric walked to Davven again and punched him in the face,
though his eyes too had begun to water. Davven, caught unawares, was flung to the ground. He regained his feet just as Eric bent over to retrieve the dagger. The crew grew ever more noisome as the two boys stared at eachother. Suddenly, Eric dashed towards Davven, tears streaming and eyes wide. At the last possible second, Eric turned the blade towards himself and embraced Davven with his other hand.
For a few moments that seemed like an eternity, Davven stared at the ground over his only friends shoulder, feeling stunned. Then the spell broke. Eric fell to the ground with the dagger pierced through his heart and blood slowly seeping outwards to surround the boy. Davven stood still, frozen, unable to believe what had just happened in those few seconds. The crew continued to cheer ecstatically and the captain chuckled. "We have a winner! Grab him and throw him in a cell! Hahaha." Davven was taken abroad the pirate ship and locked away in a cold, dark, water-logged cell at the bottom of the vessel.
For almost 3 years, Davven was put to work as a slave on the sea-bandits' ship, cleaning the private quarters, swabbing the deck, scrubbing the pirates' meagre clothing. At ten years' of age, he was bartered off to a rich merchant named Aiven, from Einbroch. With this guy, Davven lived a far better life. Aiven wasn't really a bad guy, and he took good care of Davven, though he noticed one peculiar trait about the silent lad. The boy never smiled..
One dim, overcast day, as Davven was cleaning Aiven's house he came across a gun in his master's drawer. He gazed at it for a few seconds, then picked it up and sneaked down to where Aiven lay, reading a book. Davven peered down the sights of the barrel, and waited..
Aiven, without even a glance upwards, broke the silence "You don't want to do that, Davven." Aiven S
stood up, and approached the boy. Davven was still shakingly aiming at his master, his face a mass of contorted emotions. Aiven Looked down at Davven with a smile and patted him lightly on the head with his reading book; "Come on brat, follow me." Aiven left the house with Davven in tow, walking into a nearby field. There, they came up various devices and equipment, making the place look like a small shooting range. Aiven knelt and retrieved a gun from behind a cleverly-concealed box. Davven, flustered, pointed his own firearm at his master, snarling "Put it down!"
Aiven turned slowly and looked at Davven.
"Child, I want you to become a good gunslinger.". Davven stared at him for a few seconds, then asked "…Why?". Aiven loaded the gun, answering:
"You see, Davven. I will soon be gone, and you'll be free. I want to teach you how to defend yourself, and avoid doing something you don't want to."
Davven looked surprised and said "Be gone…?". Aiven, once again, looked at Davven; "Yes, Davven. I am sick. The Fog here in Einbroch is killing me. But you see, this is my hometown, so I don't want to move away." Davven slowly lowered the gun, and hung his head.
For four years, Davven trained hard, striving to become to gunslinger Aiven wanted him to be. When the day arrived, Aiven left him his precious, unique twin garrisons. Davven mourned for Aiven that day, and for many to come, for Aiven had transcended the role of master and took on the role of friend with Davven, and it brought the young man grief to think that he would never see his old mentor and friend again.
Later, Davven joined a group of mercencaries, seeking companionship and a living. He was youngest of them, but his skills with firearms earned him a certain level of respect amongst his peers. Till the age of 17, they were his family, his friends. He found in them trust, consolation, even love; Vilokan, two years Davven's senior, a strong, bold man with iron-clad muscles and a handsome, shapely jaw.
A two days before Davven's 18th Birthday, the group received word of a mission in Morroc, marked Highly Dangerous and Confidential. Seeing the bounty if they succeeded, they decided it was worth it. The mission was to sneak into Morroc and kill the target, Damien. The night before they snuck into Morroc, they set up camp in the desert, and sitting around the bonfire they planned out the mission.
That same night, they snuck in, disguised and attempting to give off a bad-ass aura, in order to fit in with the corrupted town population. The group was split into two, Davven and Vilokan on the same team. They asked and searched around for this Demian, since they had no idea the man looked like.
As the two transversed down the Moroccian alleys, they were suddenly assaulted by a robe-clad figure wielding a revolver. Vilokard instinctively pushed Davven away, shouting "Watch out!" as he himself was torn into by bullets. Davven fell on the ground, seeing the man he loved being killed infront of his eyes, then looked at the shooter and saw that it was none other than a member of his own mercencary family, a friend. He looked at him, not knowing what the hell was going on. Then another figure appeared behind the first and, with one swift movement, slit the shooter's throat. Davven stared at the killer, noticing a remarkable similarity to himself.
Davven stood up, and in a rage fired off two rounds at the encroaching, cold-blooded murderer. To Davven's amazement, the bullets simply bounced off the intruders chest.
"Who the hell are you!?" Davven demanded angrily.
"Me? My name is Damien, and you are?~" Davven didn't let him finish what he was saying and shot at him till there was no ammo left in his guns.
"Those toys won't hurt me, my friend. I am surprised that we look so much alike!~" Damien said with a creepy voice. "Too bad your friends are all dead!" he continued as he chuckled. Davven looked at Vilokan and his friend lying lifelessly on the floor, then ran away, like a scared dog.
From behind him, he heard Damien call "We'll be seeing each other very soon, my friend~".
Davven ran back to the camp, at a loss at what to do. He never returned to Einbroch. Instead, Davven the Gunslinger took his lover Vilokan's Gatling-gun, which he left at camp because it was too bulky to sneak into Morroc, and left the mercencary group forever.
Davven trudged through the unforgiving desert, he cried and cried, till he could cry no more. Then he simply walked in silence, till his feet could no longer support his weakened frame. So he fell to the sand and slept there, in the hope that he would never awake again.
But awake he did.. the next day Davven noted that he was now 18, a man. He had never left so alone; the desert, his tears, and the blood-soaked memories of yesterdays events were his only comforts. From that day on, Davven vowed to live emotionally as a hermit would live, alone, no friends, no family. For fear that his dark destiny might harm the people he cared for, he vowed that this solitary existence would be all that he knew.
He traveled to Moscovia, Nifflheim and many other places, seeking work to finance his quiet existence, but nothing more. He deemed to care for no-one, and would never let work to create seals of friendship among work-mates. At the age of nineteen, Davven began to learn Necromancy. He also never gave up learning and finding out more about this Damien character, so he became a Stalker as well, thinking it would help him. But no matter how much he traveled, he couldn't help but to reject any happiness and friendships that one could share with him.
All he had left were the fading memories of what could once have been. Memories that would have to last him a lifetime in this barren desert he considered his home.. A lifetime.. However long the bullet deemed that to be.
- Davven Is Right Handed.
- Davven is not that Social.
- Davven Likes Roasted Meet.
- Davven is poor.
1: If you fucking touch me, I'll rip you apart, I reach in, and take a bite out of that shit you call a heart.
2: Try, and die…
3: I have…No idea.