P R E S E N T I N G;The Glorious Man of the Dryad, Doctor of Or’lin.Doctor Maitland Elmvein;Between two lungs it was released
The breath that captured me
The sigh that blew me forward
Because it was trapped
Trapped between two lungs
It was trapped between two lungs
And my running feet could fly
Each breath screaming:
“We are all too young to die!”
WE'RE WALKING IN THE AIR
Nothing will ever hold us down.
• FULL NAME: Maitland Isaiah Elmvein
• NICK NAME: Doc?
• AGE: 97
• BIRTHDAY: April 24
• GENDER: male
• SPECIES: Ethereal
• RACE: Dryad
• BIRTHPLACE: Voren Forest
• OCCUPATION: Medical doctor
• LOCATION: Or’lin
• MARITAL STATUS: single
• SEXUALITY: heterosexual
• CANON OR ORIGINAL: original
WE'RE FLOATING IN THE MOONLIT SKY
The people far below are sleeping as we fly.
Maitland is severely CLAUSTROPHOBIC. Since he dug himself from the ground, he has never truly been able to shake the fear of enclosed spaces. Likewise, he is AFRAID OF THE DARK, for being unable to get a feel for direction is horrifying to him. All in all, it’s a miracle that he leaves his home at all.
Born DEAF in one ear, and unable to hear clearly through the other, it was among Maitland’s earliest ambitions to cure what he thought to be a terrible disease. As he was unsuccessful with this, he is entirely blindsided (hardy har) from the left side. He cannot hear anybody approaching, speaking from behind, or really hear anybody well unless they speak loudly and into his right ear. Reading lips is certainly not a convenient substitute for hearing. Because he has never been able to hear everything properly, his LANGUAGE SKILLS SUFFER. While his vocabulary is fine enough thanks to being well-read, he often stumbles on words and struggles to get everything out cohesively.
There’s nothing which stops Maitland dead in his tracks more than the mention of GABRIELLA. He is outstandingly protective of his little girl, and nothing in the world could make him swallow his words faster than any comment of her. Because he is a man who enjoys his privacy, he tries to be silent on matters regarding the child, and often does not mention her unless it is absolutely necessary.
Not that there is often need for this in his life, but Maitland is PHYSICALLY USELESS. He has poor balance and very little coordination when walking. His hand motions are precise and careful, but when it comes to full-body movement, he is all but a disaster. Something pokes him, and he falls like a deck of cards, stumbles into a wall. This being said, he tends to avoid running, riding, and many sports. His dancing capacity is best left completely unmentioned.
I'M HOLDING ON SO VERY TIGHT
We're Riding in the Midnight Blue.
Though some might call it a weakness, Maitland’s AMBITION has taken him further than he dreamed he could ever go. Inclined to study in the field of medicine, he was also determined to associate himself with the biggest names in the medical field and onward. His intentions have always involved being known within his field, and so it is not surprising that, in his work at Medicae Manus, he has spent a great deal of time attempting to associate himself with Dr. Skarsgaard. Ah, but man’s reach exceeds his grasp, here, for the attempts that the Dryad has made at becoming a relatively familiar face with wealthy donors (even so far as the sovereigns of the nations) have been unsuccessful, and how could anyone be surprised?
STUBBORN, he never has a problem voicing his opinion. He is a STRONG-WILLED individual who, when motivated to do something, will stop for no mind other than his own, for no idea which he cannot believe. This has led to recent campaigner motion. Maitland has dedicated great support to the environmental activism motions. Unfortunately, he realizes that, as long as the world is hanging the balance of ecological famine, his life is endangered.
Although it could just be dastardly fanciful, Maitland is a highly INTELLIGENT being. He tends to phrase things in the terms which he knows best, which are usually textbook. Being the sort of person who indulges in plenty of literature in his free time, he is a connoisseur of new ideas and developing research. He likes to be up-to-date.
LADY WITH A VIOLIN PLAYING TO THE SEA
Beckoning to the sound, we're going down.
• PLAY BY: Clive Owen
• EYE COLOR: hazel
• HAIR COLOR: dark brown
• HEIGHT: 6′ 2½
• WEIGHT: 178 lbs
• OVERALL APPEARANCE:
The Dryad took very much after his father, almost identical to him, in fact. Both are tall and large, Maitland taking this going so far as to say slightly overweight, and they have almost the same color of hair and eye. Both take after the Elm tree, and Maitland does not display many of his mother’s Cedar tree characteristics.
Maitland doesn’t put a great deal of thought into personal hygiene. In fact, a snide joke from time to time made behind his back is perhaps he doesn’t know what it is. When he works, he favours finishing above all else, even if that means changing clothes, or washing himself. While this goodwill could be said to be something of a make-up factor, it really doesn’t make a difference to the fact that Maitland does not always smell like a bouquet of roses.
He is not, by any means, a well-dressed man. He will wear whatever is handy at the time, regardless of fit, color or anything of the sort. On occasions when he is required to dress formally, he is completely lost. On this matter, it’s not just that Maitland doesn’t care enough about appearance – he’s simply lost as for how to go about treating it. A comb? Never mind! His hair is regularly dishevelled. Colors? They’re completely beyond him. Patterns? Why can’t he wear stripes and paisley, damnit, why?
I TURNED MY HEAD TO THE SEA
A strange wave came over me..
Maitland is a BLUNT man without much care for propriety. Nobody is above or below him – they are all equals. Men have no more status then women, and women can do anything that men can; anybody who believes otherwise is full of shit. This is the sort of thing he would tell you himself, and probably in those words. He has a VULGAR tongue and harsh disposition which leaves no room for sugar-coating and unnecessary flattery. While he takes this very HONEST approach, little that he does comes across as actual sincerity. Paradoxically, he is neither duplicitous nor genuine.
His temperament and conversation skills present a man who appears BRUTISH, which is probably a fairly accurate explanation of his mannerisms. By general rule, you can be assured that when someone tells you, “Oh, he’s just a big softie!” they’re probably not talking about Maitland. This has nothing to do with whether or not it is true – he feels his share of sentiment – but few would know. He’s not really keen on displays of emotion, simply because his range of those touched is dramatically limited. He tends to hover somewhere between concentrated and angry, and rarely drifts elsewhere.
Undeniably, he has an OBSESSIVE personality. When there is something that interests Maitland, it is quite likely that that’s what he’ll be thinking and talking about for the duration that it catches his fancy. He becomes very engaged in topics and devotes more time than is strictly necessary to learning about them. He will read and study and draw, contemplate and theorize. He is a PASSIONATE individual, in this way.
This has manifested itself in a most PECULIAR manner. Of his fascinations, Maitland includes the anatomy. Of what? It doesn’t matter. He finds everything interesting. It’s the way that he functions. He is not limited to the body of a regular being – oh, no! Animals, all around, all so different, so unique to their regions and species, no! Their genus! Alas, not broad enough: skip the rest. Their phylum. How could anybody be so ignorant as to focus on just one where the big picture contains so much variation? On this note, it is necessary to comment that Maitland is self-teaching necropsy, and stuffing his results like an amateur taxidermist. Indeed, his house is a strange one to enter. It could be implied that Maitland has a few rather MORBID fascinations.
Of these strange things, the Dryad is also very interested in potentially cloning himself one day. He aspires to one day be able to create a hybrid of man and beast, but until there is some way that sexual and asexual reproduction can become one, he is at a loss on how to do this. However, in the interest of discussing the nature vs nurture argument, he wonders: what if he raised himself?
On marriage, of which there are several mentions throughout this application: Maitland doesn’t believe in it. He thinks of it as a binding ceremony between two beings that shouldn’t need material promise to be assured of their feelings. Feelings are insubstantial, and that they are intangible makes them worth more in the great scheme of things, as they are affected by change in a person, rather than trends and weathering. He has no desire to ever wed.
For a slight digression on his faith: Maitland doesn’t love his religion to the same extent that some of his kind do. He loves Caillech because of his dire need to fit into his culture, rather than because he thanks her for creating the world. While he appreciates and lusts at the thought of karmic endeavours lengthening his life, he is far from devout enough to take time daily to recall their goddess and the goodness that she has done unto them. When the planet is healed, bitch, that’s when you get your thanks.
I'M FEELING I CAN FLY SO VERY HIGH WITH YOU
Nobody down below can believe their eyes.
◊ LIKES & DISLIKES ◊
v. The planet
xii. Order in chaos
i. Enclosed spaces
iv. Table talk
v. Disease / The Variation
vi. Defeat / Being outdone
vii. Not knowing
viii. Da’karin Theolain
ONCE UPON A LONG LONG TIME
We flew away and never looked back.
◊ HISTORY ◊
• FAMILY: Isaiah (father, Elm) // Peregrine (mother, Cedar) // Gabriella (daughter, Birch)
Maitland’s first memories involve disorientation and darkness. Under the ground, without a positive knowledge of which way was up and which was down. Instinctively, it was his duty to claw past the soil, through the creatures and the strings of roots – but which way? A small boy in the depths of the earth, seeing nothing in any direction and without a plan, buried in the soil without a clue what the world is or looks like. It felt dry, clumpy, and alive – the beginning of several mild phobias.
The Dryad surfaced to an interesting pair of people, artistic and scholarly in their ways. He had a relatively normal life and grew up in Or’lin, with nothing exceptional to be said about himself or his company. His education took a path favouring healing and medicine, and he was relatively non-traditional in his logic, and didn’t much support the collective views on technological advancement held by his people. With the ambition to grasp the new ways and better the world, Maitland took the first steps towards being a sharp doctor with the worst bedside manner in history.
There is very little to Maitland without his daughter Gabriella. Is she a source of embarrassment for him? Never. Never in a million years. She is a perfect being, and, of course, wouldn’t he know? He raised her. Gabriella would never be an embarrassment – she is simply an awkward topic. There’s not really any good way Maitland can come up with to explain the nature of her creation. It is nothing traditional, admittedly, and was the incident which caused Maitland to consider cloning himself eventually. She was his first experiment, his living, take-home science project. What sort of a man could admit to doing as he had done? It was so horrifyingly taboo, some godforsaken experimentation which invaded on privacy and property.
His experimentations had begun slightly after his medical career began, but never had anything as drastic as this come up. In the time that he spent testing which careers he liked best, he found that researched was not a good profession for him, but a hobby. This was the astounding straw that was a drawn, and it was the glimmer of an idea in his mind: reproduction. What kind of an idea is that, one might ask? For womanless, ever-sexless Maitland it was a chance to test the slightly-perverse questions he had about genetics and hybridism. He took time, careful time, to locate the ideal mate. Something short-lived, he supposed, would be ideal and humane, simply because then there could graciously be no life beyond forty or fifty if anything turned out badly. What he needed was a blank slate, a pristine glass with no scratches or cracks until he put them there.
He found a birch tree, and that was the mother decidedly. Alone and without permission, he planted the seeds which would create a child. And then he waited.
Of course he knew the risks, and had thought it out carefully beforehand. He wasn’t a particularly well-off gentleman, lower middle class and quite alone aside from the support of his parents, but he had determined that he would be able to provide a semi-comfortable lifestyle for his offspring. The only risk he hadn’t anticipated was that he would come to love her and truly want the best for her. He named the girl Gabriella. She took very much after her anonymous mother, and was fair-skinned and slender, with hair black like charcoal. As of the year 1887, he has still performed absolutely no tests on his little girl, now 6 years old.
Maitland joined the foundation of Medicae Manus as a doctor responsible for treating and making sure patients who were diagnosed and are now in the Showing stages of the disease are comfortable. Due to his questionable personality, it seems he is being looked at for reassignment.
IN A FANTASY WORLD WE LIVE
Nothing as so simple I can give.
◊ROLEPLAY SAMPLE ◊
ABOUT THE ROLEPLAYER
Come now, don't be shy. Give me some pie.
◊THE ROLEPLAYER ◊
• LIMBO •
• AGE: 17
• CONTACT INFO: pm & aim
• YEARS ROLE PLAYING: multiply your age by four, subtract the number of letters in your name, and divide it all by nine.
• CHARACTERS: Ares Santiago, Edward Raymer, Sethius VanHampton
• HOW DID YOU FIND US?: After saving seven cats from a burning condo with only my bare hands and a bottle of tequila (yeah, think about it), it was recommended to me that I should put out the fire that is Invoria’s hotness.