Salty boi

Instructions

You can click to switch pics ( might add more later) Backstory (tw: mentions of bl°°d, serious injuries, and issues with family) - Rushing through a blazing battlefield filled near to the brim with catastrophic danger, he wields a red stained sword in one hand and just barely clings to his life with the other. Despite this, however, his eyes are set only on one thing: the gruesome enemy in front of him. The lug he targets, who was at least a head or two taller than him, takes a mighty swing at the manic man--only for their assault to be just barely held back by a worn shield. At this, Alkali, too caught up in the rush of euphoria, manages a forceful slash directed towards his towering opponent--not bothering to move his hand that grasped with a perspired hold on his only defence. With a clean slice, he downs his adversary and wipes his wrist evenly from his arm. It takes 8 people to drag him back to a medic. Irrational, impulsive, composed, manipulative, logical, loving, Alkali is a man of many faces. He wasn't always like this, however. When Alkali was younger, about the age of 6, his father (an honorable man that once ruled Salty Sea-bay) left for war and never returned, leaving Al's distraught mother to follow faithfully in his footsteps. Suddenly orphaned, Alkali was bombarded with once estranged family members--all wanting a piece of the royal bl00d. He was less than human to them. After being juggled around in the hands of irresponsible relatives and the occasional advisor or bold citizen (Sea-bay was left mainly ungoverned in that time), something in his head sort of snapped. And this kid who, at one point, wanted nothing more than a couple toys and enough attention to sate his appetite, was unconsciously switching between the masks and faces he could put up for different people--daily. If someone was sad or had recently lost a loved one; he would cry for them, but he could not bring himself to feel for them. If someone hated a specific group or type of people; he would entertain the thought of hating them, but he couldn't force himself to hate for them. Between this big game of charades, however, there were times where he would try his hardest (and I mean TRY) to explain his sense of disconnection with the world around him. This- this uncertainty of who he was or his need of life that he's been so selfishly told to keep. He didn't want this. Unfortunately, the words of a child fall deaf on the ears of those who choose not to listen or sympathize. Speaking of his emotions, more often than not, led to confused glares and hints of indifference--humanity's way of saying 'don't care, kid, everyone's got a sob story.' So the stress of faux family and wretched loss that, unknowingly, Alkali chose to carry with him began to build up--pushing further and further past his breaking limit. Eventually, playing pretend became a chore piled onto a mountain of menial tasks he'd gained along the way, admitting truths earned its name as a way of gaining alienation among the few he called acquaintances, and survival was a matter of strapping down the changing currents of emotions in his head rather than living. This all happened when he was 10. In a few years time, riots began to breakout among the inhabitants of Sea-bay due to a lack of government, leading to the need for a strong ruler. Deemed old enough at the age of 15, Alkali was pushed into the position--earning his way by bl00d. Repeatedly, people who once called themselves his family tried to use him, believing falsely that loosely raising him had gained them a special place in his heart. It hadn't. Aware of their malicious actions, Al would, in fits of near uncontrollable emotion, occasionally have them thrown in jail (or worse) for their crude attempts at manipulation. Things got better, however, as he aged and distanced himself from them. Over time, his "family", although not learning the error of their ways, knew that Alkali wasn't someone they could use--therefore leaving him alone. And so, for the past few years, he's fallen into an almost boring routine of duties. Despite that fact, he knows well not to take it for granted--because it'll always be better than what he had before. (If Al doesn't make it as a monarch his story'll mostly stay the same, his father instead being a general at war and Sea-bay instead being ruled by whatever leader is chosen) (I'll prolly change this guy's story a whole ton later cause I wrote most of this at 1-4 in the morning)