Full Name: Clayton De Laroux a.k.a. Clay
Gender: Male
Age: 19
Element: Sand bender
Birthplace: Si Wong Desert
Position: Wanderer
Personality: Clayton, aka Clay, was raised in a strict manner, and sone of his lifestyle was affected. He finds it hard to trust anyone outside of family, which makes it hard because he barely has family. He is free spirited and doesn't like settling down for fear of attachment. Clay finds it hard to get used to people and never knew how to make friends. He sometimes comes off as a jerk, but only because he doesn't know how to approach people. He doesn't know what he wants, but constantly searches for what he thinks he needs. Clay prefers the protection of nature over the walls of a city, and he tries to be as low maintenance as possible. He can work with little, and having too much overburdens him. Clayton is easily confused and finds it hard to understand people. He is also hard to understand, he will jump to help people, but hates the idea of helping people, finding others as dead weight. Over compliments, he prefers that others learn to not become weak, but doesn't understand that some people are physically incapable of being strong. Clay takes losses hard, but has a harder time showing it while he is yelling at others to toughen up.
Abilities: Clay is an accomplished hunter and survivor, adapting to climates other than the desert. He still is shaky on his sand bending, but has the ability to shift sand that is already sand as well as manipulate the sand in objects to move the object itself, something he takes pride in showing through the use of the bandages over his forearms. He has worked as a coolie, so he has adapted to lifting and working with heavy objects. He is physically and structurally sturdy, his body used to certain extremes in climate and heat. Clay has an ever growing knowledge of animals from his home region, and is quick to learn of other such creatures from other locations. His adaptability to supporting heavy objects allows him to move normally even with the weight of his sand weighed equipment, so long as he's moving. He cannot turn earth to sand at will, only able to do so from falling extreme heights to cushion the fall. He uses a fighting style similar to the iron fists of a monk, utilizing fluid motions over solid motions to allow the sand's weight in his clothes to flow with his body and aid the impact of his hits.
Appearance: Clay is a lengthy man of a tall, well toned physical build. His body is as sturdy as his skin is tan from working in the sun daily. Having his clothes made for him, he wears a sleeveless, tattered tunic of a shirt tucked into a pair of dhoti style pants and a pair of tabi. a sash is worn around his waist. He wears a cloth over his mouth that hides from his nose over his mouth and covers his neck. Over his attire he wears a thick poncho to protect from the rain. Around his forearms and legs, he wears hollow bandages that extend 7 feet out in total length and are made with salamander scales to be partially flame retardant as well as more sturdy than cloth. These sturdy hollow bandages carry up to 15 pounds of sand within the full length. He wears chains around his neck that link with the shoulders of his tunic for decoration, and wears an ear ring along his left ear. These were worn by his father and he wears them proudly in his name. Though they look gold, they are made from the purities of the sands that they found in their long travels.
Height: 7' / 213.36 cm
Weight: 250 lbs
Eyes: teal / vibrant blue at night when the moon reflects off of them
Hair: white
https://2img.net/h/i477.photobucket.com/albums/rr132/jrepra/Kriss.jpgWeaponry & Other Gear: Well trained in the hunt, Clay keeps a number of hunting-ready items on him tucked in his poncho. The poncho contains 2 pairs of bolas with sand in the balls, flint and steel for making fires, a water pouch, and herbal leaves soaked in mineral water and kept in a flask. There's a hunting knife kept in a sharp safe pouch by his left ankle. He wears a backpack with 50 feet of rope, a net with sand-weighed ends, and a bedroll. His two trademark weapons are the salamander scaled bandages wrapped around his forearms and legs and filled with 15 pounds of sand a piece. His tunic is made double layered, and is made to store up to 40 lbs of sand.
History: Ever since Clay was born, he was a nomad. He always traveled, never had time to connect with anyone outside of his nomadic family, and was always pulling his own weight. He was taught never to have others have to carry him, and worked alot just to please his father. His father was a great hunter in his nomadic village, his mother a great gatherer and sometimes thief if needed. He was taught not to trust easily, not to settle down, and more importantly, to survive even the harsh deserts. When he was old enough to walk, he did what he could as a coolie since he didn't know how to hunt, learning from watching his father. Sand bending was taught to him to help him thrive at both jobs, and it wasn't long into turning 10 that he finally went and hunted like his father. Though survival was harsh enough to take his mother from him at a young age, he learned and adapted.
He lost his mother during her second pregnancy when he was 7. She died giving birth to twins who couldn't survive the birthing, and he lost them days later. His father showed a cold demeanor to him since the loss, wanting Clay to be strong enough to carry the memory of his mother proudly, for she did what she had to for him to survive. Clay soon took the teachings to heart, excelling at becoming a hunter like his father. His sand bending developed as well, allowing him to exceed his father. But even what seemed like good times would come to an end when they went after too big of a hunt. They were attacked by salamanders, and outnumbered his father cleared a path to keep Clay safe. 'Carry on your name's legacy' was what his father told him before those last moments. How could he carry on a legacy living such a life? No, Clay wanted to make sure his family's legacy not only continued, but grew. He parted from the nomads, making his own way in the desert that he learned. They did go back, and they did slay each of those salamanders that gave them such trouble. Out of them, Clay fashioned the weapons he wears today. Clay went on his own at the age of 17, learning to survive on his own for 2 years before venturing from the desert. Now is his time to leave his comfort zone and carry his name proudly through the world.
Sample RP:
The sand billowed through the wind, the feel sifting under his feet. It seemed that the wind was telling him which way to go as the wanderer made his next step. His travels lead him to a small city in the desert that thrived with so little. The tall man, cloaked by his poncho as it blew in the wind, made way to the only inviting building, one that many seemed to wander in and out of. Ducking as he entered, the man made his way to a booth. How they were able to get water out here for so many people was beyond Clay, but either way, it was a place to relax and take in the scenes for the moment.
The waitress didn't take long to reach his table, such a cute thing she was. Though it was in the desert, she wore a clean dress as tan as the desert itself. " What may I get you?" She asked with such a cheerful disposition. Clayton didn't understand her happiness in such a place.
" I'll take a water." Clayton said, and with haste she made her way to the bar. Her voice echoed in his ear, triggering flashes of his mother's selfless caring for him. Oh, how sweet the sound it was, but his walk down memory lane was quickly ended as the slam of the swaying doors could be heard. Someone loud and obnoxious had entered the scene, it seemed. With such a barking of orders, it seems like he would never get his water. A fire bender leading a small select number of men, there were 4 of them in total, Clay noticed as he turned to see what kept the waitress. They seemed to be giving her trouble, and he didn't want to wait for his water. The large man got up and made his way to them known in loud stomping. The noise of his steps along the hard wood floor was natural thanks to the wight of his gear.
" What do you want, you freaky tall thing?" Said the fire bender, who went from having his hands around the non-consenting waitress to standing up and looking up to the large fellow. Clayton only looked pass the man, walking around him to the counter.
" I'm sorry, i was wondering where my water went." He asked the waitress, ignoring the fire bender completely. The three that were with the fire bender were about to make their move, stopped by the fire bender himself, held out his hand. " I got this, boys. Now, look here you..." The fire bender's words were cut off. In the motion the fire bender made to turn to Clayton, Clay's leg raised and bent at the knee. With a stomp that cracked the wooden floor under him, his fist rose quickly and caught the fire bender across the neck. The blow sent the man out of the doors he trotted through, and the 3 watched before running to help their friend. " Could you make that 2 waters instead? I'm a bit more thirsty than i thought." Clayton went on like the four of them weren't there.
As the two cups were set before him, he took them up and drank one. Setting the empty cup down, he set the money onto the counter for them and started walking out with the other cup. He only glanced back at the waitress with a small nod. " Thank you." He said, taking his leave. Though, only to make his silent point clear, he stepped on the fire bender as he walked out, sipping his water and heading for the exit. It was a nice stop, but he had changed his mind about resting there. He continued to make his way through this large and unknown world to him.
