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Author Topic: Marco Bott  (Read 964 times)

Marco Bott
« on: May 02, 2017, 01:12:51 AM »

NAME:  Marco Bott
NICKNAMES (IF ANY):  Freckles, Starling
DATE OF BIRTH AND AGE (AS OF YEAR 845):  16th of June, Year 830 (15 years old)
PLACE OF BIRTH:  Jinae, Wall Rose
GENDER:   Male
FACE CLAIM:  Marco Bott from Attack on Titan


• Calm
• Charismatic
• Compassionate
• Dedicated
• Natural Leader
• Reasonable


• Forgettable
• Idealistic
• Self-sacrificing
• Slow-moving
• Trusting
• Unworldly


• To graduate as an elite cadet and secure a position with the Military Police


• Abandonment
• Failure
• Loneliness


Grey has always been my favourite colour; the world is painted innumerably with its shades. It is cinereous, slate, shadow and pewter. It is ash, flint, taupe and smoke. There is great beauty in that, or so I have always believed. I suppose it’s this perspective that allows me to see the best in people. Everyone has something to offer, everybody has at least drop of good in them. There isn’t a single person you couldn’t love, not if you knew each and every corner of their heart, not if you read all the chapters of their life’s story, not if you laughed, lived and suffered with them. Sometimes it feels like I’m the only person who realises that.

I know what you must be thinking, that I’m either a fool or painfully naïve. Personally, I would sooner consider myself an optimist. Perhaps you even believe a few solid years of hardship will colour me with a healthy streak of cynicism. I don’t blame you. Maybe you’re right, but there’s no escaping the fact I hope you’re wrong.

Anyway, I suppose I ought to start at the beginning.

Jinae, a town behind Wall Rose, is where I call home. I was born to an apothecary, which probably sounds much grander than the reality of my mother selling herbal remedies from our front room. On occasion, a local girl or woman will ask her to act as their midwife. They say she has healing hands and with that I’m inclined to agree. By comparison, there is considerably less for me to tell you about the man who sired me. My mother fell pregnant when she was young and, as she described it, very much in love. Unfortunately for her, the prospect of a child was about as appealing to my father as a set of shining shackles. He left town and never looked back. Believe it or not, neither of us bear him any ill will. Being responsible for another life must be about one of the most daunting burdens a person can willingly shoulder and, as my mother is always quick to point out, it is thanks to him that she has me.

Still, I reckon it helps that I have the look of my mother. We share the same light brown eyes, the same silken black hair. Yet, where her skin is cream-coloured and unblemished, mine is painted with freckles. And when I say painted, I mean painted. Anyone will notice how they decorate my cheeks and the bridge of my nose but, what most won’t see, is how they pepper my entire body. They’re on my stomach, my shoulders, my thighs, my upper arms – just about everywhere! Sometimes I feel a little self-conscious about them, especially as I know my father had the same colouring. I guess it’s no surprise my mother lovingly refers to me as Freckles or Starling.

My childhood was not lacking and let me assure you that I did not suffer for having only one parent. I explored the meadows and forests outside of town, I learned to gather flowers and herbs. I climbed trees and waded in rivers. I made friends easily and I was (mostly) attentive during my mother’s lessons. I often climbed and sometimes fell, my cuts and scrapes always finding themselves kissed better. Ever since I was a boy, I loved the land and I loved the people who lived on it. Ever since I was a boy, I have wanted to join the Military Police, for the honour and the privilege of serving king and realm alike.

I enlisted into the military freely, joyfully even. Please don’t think this means I am brave. I seem to have a knack for managing my fear, but that doesn’t make me any less afraid. Every now and then, even though I am far from home, my nose is tickled by a scent that reminds me of bottled botanicals and burning peat. It makes me think of all that I left behind and that strengthens my resolve. I will be the change that I want to see in the world.

AGE:  28

« Last Edit: October 20, 2019, 11:05:33 PM by Marco Bott »

Re: Marco Bott
« Reply #1 on: May 03, 2017, 11:17:39 PM »

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