Teimlia, Joscelin W.

[Joscelin William Teimlia]

N A M E Andre
C O N T A C T S CBOX:: JackEMarston | PM | AIM:: forlornaurora | Y!M:: forlorn_aurora
O T H E R . C H A R A C T E R S None.
R A N D O M . F A C T I'm in Uni for computer technology and occasionally work on a novel of mine that I hope to get publish eventually. I love to write on forums because it gets the creative juices flowing.

N A M E Lord Joscelin William Teimlia
N I C K N A M E S Josc
A G E 27
B I R T H D A T E February 14th [27 years of age]
G E N D E R Male
S E X U A L I T Y Heterosexual
O C C U P A T I O N Diplomat
M A G I C ? Joscelin, like most people in the known world, has magic coursing throughout his very veins. Unfortunately, the magic isn't as potent in Joscelin as it would be in others as he's neglected to coax it from himself and hone it. It's led to an undiscovered magic inside of him, lingering dormant until a moment of great need.

Father - Level 3 Telekinesis | Mother - unknown

ADMIN CLASSIFICATIONS
Telekinesis: Level 0, Class E (please pm an admin when his power awakens for a re-classification!)

H E I G H T Six-Foot-Three-Inches
W E I G H T Two-Hundred-Ten-Pounds
B U I L D Lean and Sinewy
E Y E S Light Blue, his mother's.
H A I R Sable, hands-breadth length.
I D E N T I F I E R S Joscelin has miscellaneous scars from bouts when learning swordsmanship. He has a scar on his knee, and under his chin, from a mishap as a child as well.
A P P E A R A N C E Joscelin has a sense for fashion, and with a seemingly neverending stream of coin to supply such things, he's become the owner of a wide array of lush and rich garments from all parts of the world. Often, though, Joscelin tends to wear the latest of court apparel but likewise tends to lean toward comfort more than anything else. It's no surprise that Joscelin has clothing for nigh any moment, though, from magnificent fetes to ventures upon night's doorstep where lovely doves - courtesans, of course - await upon his hand and foot, or even travel upon the high road. He spares no expense, truly. That's saying little of the flesh though.

Joscelin's an austere looking man and honed with his father's soldierly standing. With his unknown mother's eyes of azure and the masculinity of a man wrought of lean muscle and strength, Joscelin truly shows of an attractive air that's rarely seen, especially with the fact that Joscelin tends to be caked with dirt, mud and dust from the road more often than not. Especially more so when he spars with his comrades, rides and hunts.

L I K E S Joscelin loves the arts such as poetry, dance and music. That and tales of legendary men whom were heroes in their own time. It's what Joscelin, and his foster-mother Phèdre, shared and what she had taught him as a child to love. It's what he would never forget so long as he lives.

Joscelin likewise has a fondness for social events in which he tends to use the charm and eloquent nature that Dolerei had groomed in his youth. It's where he often met a number of his genuine companions whom likewise attended a number of fetes, banquets and other such gatherings. Unfortunately, with Joscelin's fondness of such events comes coupled the love for both wine and women, and certainly not in that particular order.

Joscelin, like most who attend social events, loved to savor the finer things of life such as all various sorts of wine from every part of the world. The unfortunate part of that was the fact that Joscelin tended to drink a bit more than necessary every now and then; becoming blind and stinking drunk. Fortunately, he hadn't made a fool himself as of yet, at least not horribly so. Then there was the fact that wine drove him to want somewhat else that often tended to be in abundance at court and events...women.

He loves to carry on conversations with women and to touch them when they allowed. It was somewhat of a conquest for him to have whom he desired when he wanted albeit that's not to say he claimed every woman he shared pleasantries with, although there were certainly women he did have. Nonetheless, Joscelin loves women of sorts and likewise has a fascination for them as he had with anything else such as tournaments.

The first time Joscelin had a fascination with tournaments was not when his father took him to witness his first tourney but when his foster-mother had told him a tale about a chivalrous knight whom had earned a woman's hand through defeating other men. Since then Joscelin had always wished to become a knight and somewhat more. He had even managed to become just that and competed in a handful of tournaments in which he had performed valiantly and as a prodigy of the art. It's what goes hand in hand with everything else in which he learned.

Like any other man, Joscelin loves anything physical such as the art of grappling, swordsmanship and even horsemanship. There's archery as well and even the hunt. It's a multitude of things which he'd never replace for anything else.


D I S L I K E S Due to his love of legendary tales and a want to become somewhat of a hero himself, Joscelin dislikes any form of cruelty or injustice. No matter whether it be a man, woman or child, or said person's status, Joscelin would intervene and do what he can to stop the unjust act. He would even stick his neck out for those who are wrongly accused and trust those who he believe to be telling the truth when others would not hear them out. Yet, despite that, Joscelin likewise has a few dislikes that are expected of a noble man then again...mayhap any other man too.

Joscelin dislikes poor quality. It's as simple as that really. Who would want a rusted, beaten and nicked blade or corroded armor...? Who would want stale and rotted bread over that which is fresh? Who would want watered wine over something that would make someone heady after one cup? Like any man, Joscelin wants the best and the finer things in life and dislikes poor quality in any way, shape or form. It's the same with people though.

He dislikes those who aren't true to themselves or genuine; those who would abuse another's trust and take advantage of someone else. There's nothing worse to him than someone who puts on a facade for another and hiding behind a forced smile for Joscelin was brought up to be rather brutally honest. Those with ulterior motives that are entire fake though are definitely not his cup of tea and Joscelin would prefer to avoid them. He'd likewise prefer to avoid those who tend to be rather pessimistic for they tend to ruin Joscelin's mood somewhat...especially those who would not willingly take advice given even when he wishes to genuinely help them. It's that which makes him dislike them the most though.


F E A R S Joscelin fears not being survived by another. That his family's lineage would end with a stain on their name. That he would be forever remembered as the Bastard and that there would be nothing left of him. That he would not be remembered as more. That the entirety of his life meant very little.
S T R E N G T H S Joscelin's steadfast and loyal. He's the the rarity that one only hears of in tales; the chivalrous sort that has a reservoir of strength and courage inside of him.
W E A K N E S S E S Joscelin's weaknesses tend to typically be wine and women. That and he's occasionally easily overwhelmed when confronted about his heritage and judged on his blood in which he becomes volatile over.
Q U I R K S Joscelin tends to furrow his brow in thought and gnaw upon his lower lip or the corner of his thumbnail.
G O A L S Joscelin wishes to become more; to be recognized as a hero amongst the people and to no longer be recognized as a stain on his father's name.
P E R S O N A L I T Y Joscelin is charismatic and somewhat eccentric alongside a quick wit that has been honed alongside his foster-mother. It's a rarity for something to phase him or even deter him, although when he is, Joscelin tends to have a volatile temper that comes out suddenly often leading to scowl, bark of anger and a fist thumping upon the nearest object. Other than that, Joscelin has an addiction, although he'd rather call himself a connoisseur of wine and...well, of women...the truth of the matter is the fact that Joscelin finds pleasure with both and sometimes indulges a bit too far. Other than that, Joscelin tends to have a cool head and calm demeanor.

Other than an appetite for social delites and delicacies that can only be sated through the fetes that he has grown accustomed to, Joscelin always has a love for inner city politicking and court intrigue. It couples well with his mind that loves to consider bonds, ties and diplomacy between nations. He savors the game of thrones and reckons himself as an able player and not a pawn when it comes to considering such things when in court. Other than that and considering himself a strong man, Joscelin does have a weakness when considering his father and blood mother, and weighing a particular, and possible, lineage that he may have in the East.

It's somewhat he's always wondered of and wishes to pursue himself.

F A M I L Y

• William Amaury Teimlia; 59, father. Deceased. Former Lord and Nobleblood
  
• Dorelei Anielle Bredaia; 55, foster-mother. Alive.
  
• Phèdre; unknown, mother. Deceased. All things unknown of her beyond the woman's name.

P L A C E . O F . B I R T H Conceived and Born in Carthonia, City of Ingril. Raised in East Niendra, City of Karenth.
H I S T O R Y As with many tales, one must begin at its conception to understand it wholly. It's at the very beginning when the seed had been planted, and yet...not...for Joscelin's conception did not start with a bout of passion but with a long friendship that became a genuine romance and courtship between them; an affair hidden from the eyes of all.

It's not a tale to be sung of despite the fact that their love was true, for William was spoken for by a woman who loved him with the entirety of her heart. It was only unfortunate that William had not loved her enough to tame and keep himself checked. Instead, William frequented his companion's chambers often when he had visited the West under the guise of diplomacy.

The affair had been well hidden for years and their marriage...well, it had been of convenience, and what was truly unfortunate besides the affair, was the fact that Dorelei had been unable to conceive. It had led her onto a bout of anguish as she had begun to suspect that William wanted nothing of her afterward despite the fact that they ventured into their bedchambers often to try. Yet, as the months and years passed, Dorelei still had no fluttering of life within her belly and had thrown herself into court proceedings as she thought of husband did the same.

What she did not know was that William continued to visit the West for other means and that his last visit had been to see his now pregnant lover. Unforutnately, even to this day, the woman's name was never known by anyone but William whom kept the knowledge to himself even upon his death bed, and as she perished during their child's birth, Joscelin likewise would have never known her beyond that moment of being given life and looked upon for one brief fleeting moment. She was gone and William keened...but the boy...he lived.

When another man would have considered the child a stain on his name and hidden the babe, William instead embraced him and took the mewling bairn to Morbourne and his household. It was then that Dorelei was confronted with the truth of William's adultery and the knowledge of the child was brought to light as he was named his successor and heir.

It had been the target of gossip for many long months thereafter and Dorelei felt the eyes of the court upon her...judging her. Yet, she was loved to an extent and regarded highly by those around her for she held an understanding for the people when others did not and she had a hold with the common folk of Whitemont from where she hailed. It's because of this that Dorelei had the support to carry on...and then the fact that the boy became somewhat more to her.

He was only a child and should not be condemned because of the sins of the father...or so she had been told. It had made sense to her, and especially more so when the child aged and had begun to shadow her...following her about like a housecat and watching her from around one corner or another. The boy...thusly named Joscelin after his mother, or so she suspected...would hide from her whenever she looked until the day she had coaxed him out from underneath a table with sweets and pastries.

It was then that life truly began for Joscelin.

Unable to have her own child, Dorelei accepted the boy as her own and she taught him with an eagerness that she had only known in her own youth. She taught him how to whistle and hum. She taught him to him how to count on his fingers and to read letters. She taught him how to write them and write words and be able to read them. She taught him how to sing and dance when he became older and taught him to use the harp and lute. She taught him etiquette and how to be a proper and polite lad, and despite knowing that she was not his mother, he treated her as his own for she was his mother.

William was happy to see that Dorelei took to the child. You see, despite the fact that William had carried on the affair, he had indeed felt guilty and had tried to love Dorelei, but one cannot sing a tune one's heart does not wish to know. Nonetheless, pleased with the fact that Dorelei did not condemn his son for his own wrongs, Barquiel likewise wished to take a personal part of Joscelin's schooling as he had begun to teach the boy all things he needed to know.

He had taught him horsemanship, swordsmanship and archery. Wililam had even taken Joscelin to the castle to look upon the lords and ladies he would one day mingle with and had taken him to a number of tournaments which William had taken part of. Joscelin had been wide eyed at each event and taken by the sight time and again. He loved everything to say the very least.

How could he not...?

Joscelin wanted to be like his father. He wanted to be renowned and loved amongst the people. He wanted to be highly regarded and embraced by the common folk whom he wished to rub elbows with. He wanted to constantly learn more and more! He wanted to be everything his father and foster-mother wanted...and so he was to an extent.

He became a charming and dashing young man after his colt's year where he was all long limbs, awkward stance and gait. He had become a young man and was well versed, eloquent and had a way with words. He was likewise a very skilled swordsman under his father's tutelage whom had been an incredible and able swordsman himself. Joscelin wanted for nothing when he was with his mother and father, and he competed with their consent in a number of tournaments in the hope of becoming much like Barquiel himself. Yet, the Gods must find a balance...and that balance was William's life when he had fallen ill and did not recover.

With his death things had changed within Joscelin.

Joscelin keened over the loss of his father and the man was mourned by many despite his faults. He was even mourned by his foster-mother Dorelei whom had wept over the loss of her husband. It had taken weeks...no, months...for House Teimlia to return a semblance of normalcy as Joscelin ascended to his father's seat as lord Teimlia; finger adorned by the signet ring of his house name. With it came the weight of responsibility that was his father's and the consent to have at his father's study and his cedar chest full of correspondence.

It was when Joscelin found out about his blood mother...

C O D E . W O R D Wyeshing
S A M P L E . P O S TKate blinked, her eyes returning to normal and she looked confused. She looked away from the physician to James questioningly before she returned her gaze to the older man. The man's lips suddenly curled to a smile, a brow rising before he took a step forward. "This is it then? Your savior...?" The man scoffed as he took another forward, his movement suddenly methodical and jerky. "Pathetic…Just as I would imagine my sister's brat to be. I don't know why I should even waste my time killing her."

Kate stilled as her body tense as she remained sitting on the bed, her eyes caught within Jeremy's gaze. That wasn't the healer speaking; she knew that without a doubt, but who else could it be...? Her mind worked with every new word sent her way, with every new clue. Her mother's sister, whoever that might be, was controlling Jeremy and intended on killing Katherine, but why...?

"Jeremy...?" James started suddenly. His voice was full of genuine curiosity and worry as he lifted his hand from Katherine's cheek. The other moved down toward his belt where his short knife hung. "Jeremy, what's wrong...?" He asked then.

"Why would there be anything wrong...?" Jeremy asked in return.

Jeremy's head lolled and his eyes looked distant and glassy. His neck arched at an awkward angle and his teeth were bared in an bestial snarl. Then he lifted the tray slowly and the contents skittered off and dropped to the floor and...

The tray clattered to the floor.

James had lunged across the bed at Jeremy in order to shove him away from Katherine's bedside. It had been done quickly and in such a swift motion that it was nearly unseen but the sound filled the room. It sent others, which were outside of the room but inside of the house, scurrying toward the source with shouts. All the while Jeremy's hands were thrown wildly at James, but James was fast and stood his ground as he weaved away from those wayward blows.

"Jeremy!" James snarled as he flashed his short knife. The blade was somewhat dull and more meant for menial tasks than close-quarters combat, but this was a pinch and James would use anything to protect Katherine. Despite that, he didn't want to truly hurt Jeremy.

"Don't make me hurt you!" He shouted at the man.

"It's already too late. You will fail. She will fail! Leave now and I may spare your life," Jeremy said. The voice had come out strained and trilled, bouncing off of the walls and filling the room. It's then that Jeremy threw himself at James, but James was faster. He stepped forward and throttled Jeremy, solidly landing a blow with his elbow. It sent Jeremy stumbling toward the corner of the room where he collapsed in a heap. His head nodded forward and his chin touched his chest as a raucous laugh filled the room. It was strangely bestial and made James shiver.

More questions formed as the specter controlling the old physician spoke further, warning that she would fail, but fail at what...? Kate could only stare and watch in disbelief. She followed Jeremy's passage to the wall where he collapsed, and looked instantly toward the door when she heard the rush of footsteps as they neared the room.

[FLYFLY]

Your classifications have been added :3 good job and welcome to A Solemn Requiem~