actual app for beastlyroses

[thorforgottoshower]

Player Information

Name: Jen
Personal Journal: wuzzafuzzle
IM Service: Wuzzafuzzle on AIM
Plurk Name: Wuzzafuzzle
Current Characters: Apping Geralt

Character Information

Character Name: The Huntsman (Eric)
Canon: Snow White & The Huntsman
Canon-Point: Post film
Age: Guess 28 based on Hemsworth's age and film time yada yada
History: Bam.

Personality:

The main thing that is most obvious about the Huntsman when he first appears, stumbling around in a drunken stupor with complete abandon and little regard for dignity, is that he's a man completely lost. While this is something greatly amended by the end of the film and he comes a long way from it in development, the aspect still remains, though he ends with more of something to live for - more hope for life continuing on than his desire to simply stagnate and waste away.

He's ridden with guilt - tortures himself over losing Sara, not being there to protect her and constantly reminding himself that he failed her. It's a piece survivor's guilt as well. It's very apparent, especially in the novelization of the film, that the Huntsman is literally suicidal. He asks Ravenna to kill him in the throne room, and his logic behind going into the Dark Forest for her is 'either she'll follow through with this unlikely promise, or I'll just die off in the act, so it's win/win'. He is a miserable, miserable man. He believes enough that he's bad to have around, likely to damn people with his presence, enough that he'll abandon Snow in the first village they happen upon simply because he thinks she'll be better off without him.

His wife is an extremely sensitive spot for him, and unless you're at the same trust level as Snow is by the end of the film, he's likely to lash out at the mention of her. In the novel, even Snow comes close to losing her head by prying too much at him about Sara. Before going on his adventure with Snow, there wasn't a moment the Huntsman spent not thinking of his late wife, and not simply by means of reminder - he would readily force it upon himself, digging fingers into the emotional wound and keeping it fresh. There was a snippet from the early trailers showing Eric drunkenly passed out on his wife's grave in the middle of a forest, evidence of jugs and clothes and paraphernalia around him suggesting he makes a regular hobby of it. He is really a sad, sad, sad, broken man as the story opens. He has lot of strange hang ups, really, drinking until he is a gross mess, asking to be killed, sleeping on his wife's grave, kissing young, dead princesses because they remind him of his wife, clinging to things from his life before he lost his wife.

But moving on from Eric's obvious and sundry emotional baggage, or rather, expounding on a different side of it, there's a certain self-loathing he possesses. He doesn't like the man that he was, expressing that he came back from the wars changed, not a man worth saving. Sara had made him a better man, worth her love, but after her passing he'd come to sink into the same old thing. The novel expounds on how he makes a living as essentially a mercenary, taking out bounties on people and trading away weapons to enemies and stealing on occasion, offending nearly every person in the kingdom of Tabor. He's a man that wanders through life saying 'not my problem, not my problem'. He would force himself not to care, even though guilt still clung to him even hardened as he was, as he initially means to abandon Snow so he doesn't have to face the Duke, knowing he'd committed some shameful crimes against him. While he does come to care more, and allow himself to, by the end of the film, he remains attempting to act aloof and untroubled by moral ambiguity, but it's more of just his gruff persona then.

Eric's disposition is rather frankly and unapologetically gritty, offensive, rough and rude as shit. He looks severe levels of unwashed for about 90% of the film, covered in dirt and grime and sweat, his hair dirt, greasy, and falling around his face in haphazard strands, and his clothes are rumbled layers, torn and strained in various places. Everything about him is disheveled and he has very little care for making it more than that. To make a deal, he spits in his hand and holds it out to shake. To track a deer, he handles droppings with his bare hands. To patch a wound, he puts some random plants in his mouth, chews at them, and then smears it across his chest. He's totally charming. He curses, grumbles about practically everything, readily shares his negative opinions on things even if they are very personal matters to the party he shares them with, and frowns at merry-making in his presence. There's a sardonic edge to his humor, often dark, cynical and critical. He plays off really dangerous things as funny, half because of the recklessness taken from his grief over Sara.

Eric falls into a neutral good sort of category most of the time - tries not to get involved in things, doesn't want to be involved in other people's issues, wants to be selfish about things. It takes a personal connection for him to go out of his way for someone or seeing something in a person that pings something in him, which is how he's not able to about be selfish and ignore Snow. He has a distinct distaste for royalty, talking about their ruining of the lands and waging wars to have common people solving their problems for them for pittance wages. He has very little appreciation for people that could have him beheaded, and while that's likely a large bit his recklessness, it's also a habit of Eric to be outspoken about his opinions on things regardless of how people will be hurt or offended by it - frank and honest. He also tends to be arrogant, smug, cheeky and slightly infuriating when he's amused by things, even prideful at points (which is funny because what even is dignity to you, huntsman).

While his personality remains mostly the same, Eric sober and Eric with a purpose in his life can be varying degrees of different. Firstly, he's less inclined to tell people to simply fuck off and collapse in on himself, and can actually be intellectual and well spoken, sharing stories and making conversation. This is the time you can come to actually get to know something personal about his character, as when he speaks to William about sharing his feelings while he still has the time to. In reflect on the idea of 'is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all', Eric would answer without hesitation that it's better to have loved, not willing to part with the memories of his time with Sara no matter the amount of pain it brings him. He has a great appreciation of love and treasuring it while you can before the opportunity passes you by. When he comes to actually care for a person and come to value them, the huntsman is protective like mama bear. He will through himself at an army with nothing more than his leather vest and an ax if it means defending that person, very little regard for personal safety.

Though even with all the change and development that happens to Eric throughout his time with Snow, he still ends up leaving the castle in the end - going to travel on his own, as the novel reveals. He's still committed to solitude, traveling alone, not a fan of company, not a fan of sticking to one place. He's thankful to Snow for the man she's awoken in him and he no doubt still cares a great deal for her and will remain in contact, but settling in still sits oddly with him, not quiet feeling well enough for it, perhaps. But now, probably, less likely to pass out shitfaced on his wife's grave.

Abilities/Powers:

❖ War Veteran :: Eric had been away for wars long enough that he'd both soured as a person and come to gain a very decent handle of a battlefield. Afterwords, he spent time as a mercenary, collecting bounties and the like, and he maintains a very athletic build and strength about him.

❖ Ax Fighting :: The Huntsman has a very specific and unique form of fighting with the axes he carries, swinging the largest one in an elegant, controlled and precise sort of way, using either side of the blade as well as the long handle of it. The smaller ones he'll either dual wield or uses to throw. He also carries a collection of about 5 or so knifes of varying size, likely also good for skinning and various hunting purposes but have been seen used for combat as well. Even in a formal battle, he goes in with his large ax in one hand and a shield in the other, the weapon very clearly his preference.

❖ Tracking :: He makes his living as a Huntsman, very clearly as it's what practically everyone calls him in stead of his actual name. He's shown to have intimate knowledge of the forest, wildlife and the various uses of local plants, knowing what's safe and what isn't. He can also follow a deer or a person through woods and fairly easily hunt them down.

❖ Skinning/Cooking/Outdoorsmanship :: As it comes with being a Huntsman, it only makes sense that he'd have a hand for skinning what he kills and cooking the meat enough that it's safely edible. He can find safe places to make camp and navigates himself through landscape decently well.

❖ Drinking Like a Fish :: It's totally a skill okay.

Items:

➸ His typical outfit (leather pants, vest, blue undershirt, boots and a big coat over it)
➸ Big stupid ax
➸ About 3 smaller axes attached to his person in various places
➸ A pouch of varying sizes of knives, about 6-8 of them. Probably would be used for skinning, but double really well for cuttin a bitch
➸ Bone charm necklace
➸ Sarah's wedding ring on a chain
➸ Leather grog skin
➸ A pouch with a handful of gold coins
➸ Some jerky
➸ A roll of twine
➸ Flint stone
➸ A fur blanket all rolled and tied up and strapped onto his back for le sleepies

Samples

I do have a post on the test drive meme here, but also wanted to toss up these two samples I used for another app.

[ A scruffy face, actually some level of clean for once in a while, squints suspiciously at the mirror in his hand, as if surprised the thing was actually working as he was told it would. Weird. Eric's not too great a fan of magical baubles, always some manner of trick to them. Welp, carrying on, he raises a hand to scratch against the scruff at his jaw, tone grumbling and clearly in distaste for the situation. ]

Even the useless gits that last hauled me off unbeknownst to myself had the common decency to leave my axes on my person. I can be found regularly, simply by means of askin' about a town or tavern, but, no, that wouldn't be nearly enough headache or over-to-do for the likes of dear, dramatic royalty, would it?

[ He makes a gross sound in the back of his throat and turns his head to the side, spitting on the dirt road at his feet. He is so totally charming. ] I go by 'Huntsman' and my professions' the same. Should you find yourself with spare coin and need of my services, I'm told I'll be around. [ An irritated huff at the thought, but if he's to be stuck, he's not going to sit around idle and let his sack of coins dwindle. ] An' if any of you know where I might find a well crafted ax, directions would be appreciated.

Alright. Off. Stop. [ He squints at the thing in his hand, brow knit. ] Go away. [ Another pause. ] Mirror Mirror.

[ Crap. He had only changed the activation phrase for the mirror after being informed as a means to give a backhanded insult to the man explaining the thing to him at the time. He hadn't really thought ahead enough the he'd be required to recite it each time he wanted to turn the thing on or off. Letting out a drawn out, grumble of a sigh, the Huntsman rolls his eyes, frowning as he mutters out the phrase quickly, in a rushed kind of deadpan.] 'Put me back where you found me, you twitty, dress-wearing, scrote, a'fore I shove a boot so high up your cushioned arse I kick your brain.'

[ The mirror satisfied, the video fades out. ]

And a third person prose thinger:

Twigs and pine needles crunched under the Huntsman's boots as he tread cautiously through the foreign woods, the grass compressing with a soft squish of damp, dew-dropped blades. A forest is a forest and he hardly expected to be much surprised with it, even with it's hint of magical creatures wandering about. So it was more on the side of the dwarves' Sanctuary. Still a forest, just with the annoying buzz of faeries zipping around like gnats. They were at least kind enough not to be playing high pitched, warbling music while they did.

The golden shine of sunlight, the morning still set upon the land casting an amber hue in it as it rose, peeked through the canopy of trees above, illuminating the vibrant, green bed of the forest, light reflecting from the dew spotted flowers, plants and rocks, making everything seem to have something of a glow to it. The Huntsman couldn't help but stop for a moment. Even Sanctuary have been breath-taking, and while he'd like not to admit it gave him pause to admire it, his feet stilled in his hunt for the deer he'd seen bounding off earlier, eyes taking in the sight around him.

Sara would have liked it here; the quietly trickling springs, the faeries fluttering about in little flashes of color, the tint of magic in everything around him - so much like the enchanted forest near Tabor. A dull pang in his chest rose up, the familiar ache he'd grown to know well in the last several years, his heart remembering the piece of it that he'd given to her, now a gaping, empty hole in him, not something to ever be filled. It's almost a dear, close friend, a traveling companion, by now. But he found, even though the grief in knowing his hand laid and would remain empty of her fingers slipping between his, and the grass beside him wouldn't soften with her steps, it isn't so overwhelming - it didn't swallow his every thought, having him tug at the leather grog pouch inside his coat and toss back the stinging liquid until the buzz of his senses overrode it. He found, actually, that his lips quirked, just slightly, a small, private, half-smile that he might have shared with her, were she there. But there wasn't pain in it, though a touch of sadness remained. He found, that he could think on her, imagining her dark hair whipping in the breeze and her gleaming smile as she viewed the enchanting world around her, and the memory of it, the thought of her ever bright soul and the warmth it brought him, was regarded with a cool fondness.

He knew who to thank for that, and knew he'd never let the words pass him lips regardless, but the Huntsman thought, perhaps, Snow White would know regardless, as she seemed to just know every other detail about him without needing to pull it from him. She'd like this place too, though be eager to return to her new kingdom, so much responsibility on her young shoulders, and Eric couldn't help the swell of pride at the thought. He'd left her behind after she'd taken the throne and likely she'd have no clue he'd even been kidnapped. But her story was no longer his. She'd gifted him a second breathe of life and he'd taken it graciously and departed - she no longer needed him and if he required her assistance to deal with this new obstacle, then he wasn't worthy of her.

Chewing at the inside of a lip, he let the heavy thoughts fall away from him, not liking the feel of overlong dwelling on something (regardless of how often he indulged it to his own ire), and slipped from the moment, boots once again making soft sounds against the grass as he traveled on, back to tracking the game he'd been after.