Seifer Almasy (Approved)

Subject: Seifer Almasy (Approved) August 18th 2008, 2:00 am

I don't know if some of the stuffs is still allowed. . . but meh.

Name:
Seifer Almasy

Age:
18

Race:
Hume

Gender:
Male

Class:
Chaos Mage

Weapons:
Hyperion (Gunblade; Non-traditional handle made similar to a Beretta rather than a revolver.)

Fighting style:
Mid-ranged

Good Qualities:
Seifer’s only real talent is his innate, superior ability to use a gunblade in battle.

Bad Qualities:
Seifer is rash and immature. He often finds himself in trouble; generally created by his perpetual impatience. On the rare occasion his impatience doesn’t get him into trouble, you can be assured that his arrogance and recklessness will fall into place. Don’t try to tell him he was wrong though, arguing with him will inevitably become a battle of stubbornness, which he is bound to be victorious.

Appearance:
Seifer is generally seen wearing his blond hair in a longer-than-normal military fashion. It is usually combed back, aside from some outliers near his brow. The coldness in his cyan eyes is accentuated by the scar rising from the right side of his nose, extending to above his left eyebrow.
He is generally seen wearing a dark blue vest, trimmed in white, that exposes a good portion of his chest. He also wears loose fitting black pants with a pair of combat boots. On his hands he wears a pair of black leather gloves. Seifer is well known for adorning a gray trench-coat, which reaches just bellow his knees.

History:

When Seifer was young, his father died in the Sorceress War. Upon bringing notice of this tragic event, the army’s liaison also delivered the soldier’s handgun, a Beretta, to his the newly widowed woman. After hearing the news of her husband’s tragic end, the widow could no longer go about her daily life in a normal manner. Soon, she ended her suffering, using the said pistol, leaving Seifer alone.

The next morning, Seifer found her dead. She lied there on the floor, limbs contorted at odd angles that looked painful. Seifer ran to her, crying into her bosom, begging her to wake up. After a time he became angry; lashing out a flame burst from the palm of his hand blowing the bed into many pieces causing a conflagration to spread about the room. Becoming rash, Seifer grabbed the gun which sat in an obscure position near the corpse’s left hand and ran. He didn’t know where he was going or what he was going to do. All he knew was that he didn’t want to be there at that moment.

He never remembered how long he ran or begged on the streets before she found him, but he was grateful for her when she did. She said her name was Edea and that she had a place where she could keep him safe. So she did; she took him to an orphanage that she ran.

Shortly after arriving, Edea took the boy, of approximately 10 years, to a small room near the east side of the complex. Once in the room she took a lantern from the closet, adjusting the wick before lighting it. Seifer’s mind flashed back to his mother’s bedroom becoming nearly incinerated by some power he hadn’t known he had. The thoughts of the destruction caused by the fire forced an involuntary shaking to rise in the small framed boy. Noticing this Edea looked at him warmly questioning him, “Is something wrong my dear.” He then rehearsed what had occurred in his mother’s room, leaving out the details of how the fire itself had been started. Edea pondered for a moment, looking into the boy’s eyes, which revealed his true fear and feelings of guilt for the situation, although she could not even begin to understand why he blamed himself.

“Look here,” She said as she mumbled something incoherently, waving her hand over the lantern, “will that do?” From within the lantern a small light began to glow; it was not the flickering of a flame, but one steady stream of light perpetually illuminating the room. The boy smiled up into Edea’s motherly face muttering, semi-embarrassedly “Thanks.”
It didn’t take long after arriving before Seifer had climbed the informal hierarchy the children had created. With a few well placed fights, Seifer was on top, and no one could tell him what to do or refuse a demand he made; if they were smart that is. In short, Seifer ran things around the orphanage on the occasion that he actually stuck around, for he was often off doing as he pleased in the nearby towns.

While at the orphanage the other children spoke of old war stories they had heard before arriving at the home Edea had established. One or two in particular caught Seifer’s attention. They mentioned a weapon, a weapon that wasn’t quite a sword, wasn’t quite a gun, but was both. Seifer was intrigued and spent many hours researching the topic, only to find that there was little to no literature on weapon. The one thing that seemed consistent was there was mention of a man who lived on the outskirts of Timber. . . a man who forged gunblades for those he found appropriate in their use.

By Edea’s approval, Seifer left to the Ballamb Garden near his reaching the age of sixteen.

Just prior to his leaving, Seifer was summoned to Edea’s quarters. “Seifer, I have a parting gift for you,” she said half-heartedly as he entered the room. She was standing profile to him, holding a plain white box, looking out the wall sized window that covered the west side of her office. She turned to look at him, “Well, don’t you want to know what it is.” Seifer jumped a little, he had been caught up in the sigh of her silhouette that had been formed by the setting sun. He nodded diligently; if he had learned one thing during his time at the orphanage, it had been to agree with Edea, even if she was wrong.

She walked over to him, handing him the box, “It’s not much, but. . .” Her voice trailed off as Seifer opened the container. He reached in procuring a long gray trench coat. He held it up examining it. It was of exquisite quality, it must have cost her a fortune. “I took the time to place a few charms on it. It should keep you protected. It is completely fire resistant,” Edea explained. Seifer threw it over his shoulders and it sagged nearly to the floor. “It’s just the right length,” He confirmed, smiling in Edea’s direction. They exchanged their goodbyes and Seifer was off to Balamb Garden.

He then, however, took a little detour to a small country known as Timber. Here he searched out a man, Tadius. It was difficult, for the man kept a low profile; everything about him, it seemed, was a rumor, or an extreme exaggeration of the truth, but eventually, the man was found, lurking on the outskirts of a small wooded area. Upon hearing Seifer’s request, the old man sighed, tapping the stem of his pipe to his teeth and said, “You see, I have been out of the business a while, and I’m afraid I’m out of the materials required to forge what you seek.”

Only after persistent cajoling would Tadius acquiesce to consider creating a weapon for Seifer. He did, however, require Seifer to quest for the materials, for he was too old and weak to do it himself. Tadius walked back into his small home, exiting with a magnificent gunblade in hand. He then charged Seifer to go to the caves to the north and to acquire a metal that is created when a bomb dies and its fiery core is compressed as the fire that forms its body all moves to a focal point. There was one rule however, Seifer was allowed to only use the old gunblade.

This older sword, Regional as Tadius called it, weighed nearly twice as much as most. Tadius said this was very important for training; it would make a regular gunblade seem light and feel as if it were an extension of the users arm once their training was finished. The old man was in no shape to train Seifer properly, so his quest for the materials to make his own would have to suffice.

Seifer walked through the hills to the east of the old man’s dwelling. They unfamiliar weight of the gunblade pressing down on his hip awkwardly. After only a few hundred yards he had begun to sweat profusely. He cursed pulling the gunblade from its holster and holding it in his hand for a distance to attempt to make the trek easier. Despite his efforts, walking was still awkward and difficult.

After a few hours he arrived at the mouth of the cave. It was graced by stalactites and stalagmites larger than an average man. Breathing in Seifer delved into the mouth of the cavern. At first he could see nothing but darkness. He walked deeper into the cave. Twenty feet later he began to see a light coming from down the passage way. His pace quickened with the excitement at the new source of light.

Upon rounding the next bend, he realized his hurried pace had once again gotten him into trouble he wasn’t sure he could handle. The light had been emanating from two you bombs. Seifer drew the gunblade, readying himself for battle. He had been taught how to sue a sword when he was younger, but this wasn’t a sword, and it weighed approximately one and a half times as much. The bombs had yet to notice Seifer, so he took advantage of the situation. He raised the gunblade to eye level, aiming carefully, and pulled the trigger. The first bomb fell to the floor, its flames extinguishing. He then turned to the other bomb, but this one was ready for him. It lashed out casting fira at Seifer. He pulled his trench coat in between himself and the oncoming conflagration to protect himself; it worked. Edea’s gift had saved him. Racing forward, Seifer lashed out with the gunblade, eliminating the other bomb.

Feeling on the ground for the remains of the bombs he found two baseball size and shaped pieces of metal. He lifted one of them up, comparing it to the gunblade in hand. After running a few calculations in his head he estimated he was going to need around fifteen of these in order to have enough to own his own gunblade. He spent the next six hours searching the cave’s tunnels; each encounter mimicked that of the first. Finally satisfied with the amount of metal orbs he had gathered, Seifer began to head to what he assumed was the exit of the cave. After nearly twenty minutes of walking he noticed a light near the bend up ahead. This would be the exit, he thought. He rushed slightly, eager to taste the crispness of the mid-autumn wind.

As he approached the corner he could hear something, and it was not the wind. It sounded like breathing. Cautiously, Seifer drew the gunblade and crept around the corner. As he took in the monstrous beast Seifer froze, palms instantly becoming sweaty. There, right in front of him, stood a beast of legend. The god of fire, Ifrit himself. Seifer began to back away, but it was too late, Ifrit had noticed him and lashed out vivaciously striking Seifer’s left shoulder causing it to go limp. On a moment’s hesitation Seifer pulled up the gunblade, accidentally pulling the trigger simultaneously. The great beast howled in pain as a piece of its left horn fell to the ground. It looked deep into Seifer’s eyes before turning and running deeper into the caves. Warily, Seifer reached down procuring the piece of the legendary beast. In a daze, Seifer placed the one fragment into the inside pocket of his trench coat, and then continued to find his way out of the cave system.

Upon his return, Seifer came to the old man and told him of the encounter with Ifrit as he left the caves and of a piece of horn he had found after Ifrit escaped. Tadius fingered the item delicately, mumbling to himself. He then hurriedly began heating up his forge and Seifer could swear he heard something along the lines of, “. . .gotta get this infused before much more power is lost. . .” Seifer could get nothing else from the man over the next two days as he worked diligently, seemingly not sleeping as he continued to tell himself that he couldn’t sleep or it would ruin the temper.

Slowly a blade began to take shape. This one however had a large triangle shape near the hilt in order to infuse the piece of Ifrit’s horn into the metal. On the morning of the third day Seifer began to come-to just as Tadius was reaching into a small chest, pulling out an old revolver handle. His thoughts began to race as he remembered the night he found his mother dead in her bedroom. He swiftly pulled the pistol from a hidden pocket in his trench coat, running over to Tadius he pleaded, “Please, can. . .can you do it with this?”

Tadius surveyed the pistol for a time then said more than asked, “This belonged to a soldier didn’t it? . . .Yes. . . It hasn’t been fired in I would estimate five years? . . . I could do it, but it’s unorthodox. . .Tell me. . . why is it you request this of me?” Seifer hung his head and reluctantly recited the story of his parent’s death. Near the end of the narrative Tadius began to disassemble the Beretta making necessary modifications so that it would fit into the crevices he had established into the blade. Within a few hours the blade was finished.

“It will be heavier than most, because of the piece you took out of Ifrit I had to add quite bit of extra material to the blade. What this extra weight or horn of the legendary beast will do, I cannot say, for I do not know, but from my experiences in life, I can attest that things should work out for the best.”

And with that said, Seifer was off, to seek his place in Ballamb Garden to become a SeeD, and hopefully one day, a Sorceress’ Knight.

During his training be began to use the Guardian Force, which wiped away the memories of his childhood, but not his obsessive need to bully others to feel good about himself. Before long he had attained a posse of goons named Fujin and Raijin; the three were rarely seen apart. Ironically enough, they were to be put in charge of the Garden’s disciplinary comity. Needless to say, Seifer used this as an opportunity to quench his sadistic thirst, often abusing his authority to do so.

After failing to pass the SeeD exams yet again, Seifer seeks out to become the Sorceress’ Knight, or her guardian. After becoming close to her, she uses his own emotions as a basis of a spell which is used to corrupt his mind and soul. However, during a later fight with Squall he is relieved of these evil spirits when Gilgamesh abolishes them.

After the death of the sorceress we see Seifer helping Rinoa in their quest to liberate the peoples of Timber. He is still the same rash, arrogant Seifer he has always been, however, he now focuses his energies towards a better cause.

Subject: Re: Seifer Almasy (Approved) August 18th 2008, 2:00 am

(Apparently my post is too long so I have to do it in two posts? o.0)

Seifer
had grown angry as he pondered his lost life with Rinoa as he stared at
their initials carved deep into the bark of an old birch tree. He still
didn’t understand why she hadn’t loved him. He had given her everything
he could, it made no sense. They had even lived together for a time,
they had been happy discussing a marriage and the possibility of having
children. He wasn’t sure if it had been his pride that blocked out what
had ended the relationship or if there really was no reason he
understood. He had always thought the two of them happy, and then, one
day, she came home in a rage. He had never seen her like that before.
She stormed into the room yelling at him to leave and to never come
back. He had left, unknowing as to the cause of her sudden rage. Yet
now they worked together on a daily basis in an attempt to save a
nation from oppression. She was right there, right at his fingertips,
and yet he couldn’t bring himself to a state of humility and apologize
for something he didn’t understand. She would purposefully dangle
herself in front of him and yet, never make a move. His heart pained as
he mulled over their past and their current situation. In a fit of rage
he unsheathed Hyperion aiming it at the massive trunk of the tree. He
fired three times before the Beretta jammed. He then bowed his head,
keeping Hyperion held at full length. His anger boiled inside of him,
he couldn’t take it anymore and the bullets had not done nearly the
damage to the tree he had wanted. Slowly, Hyperion began to glow a
deep, cherry red. Seifer looked up into the tree, tears streaming from
his face, “WHY!? Why did you leave me without an explanation? WHY!?”
Seifer cried fitfully. The flame embedded within Hyperion unleashed
itself near the hilt, forming into three semi-translucent orbs. Seifer
pulled the trigger again, having not noticed what was going on; he
simply hoped the gun would come un-jammed. The spectral fire entities
careened towards the once meaningful carvings. The first two lit on
either side of the tree, blowing nearly two-thirds of the tree into the
air. Pieces of bark and wood splinters flew around the meadow,
embedding themselves into the dirt as well as other trees. The third
sphere hit right above where the heart had been formed, causing the
tree to topple backwards, crashing through the branches of other trees,
causing an almost melodramatic crashing sound.

((Add here about him being sent to small town to help out, just before the battle of Capital City.))

There
was a fight going on in Capital City. Seifer had to get there, and
fast. He was nearly 50 miles from where the battle was taking place.
This would be key, if they won this fight the war would nearly be over.
However, if they lost, the struggle for the people’s liberation would
go on for many more months, possibly even years. There was no question
in his mind that he needed to be there. If he wasn’t, and they lost,
everyone, including Rinoa, would blame him for their loss. He wasn’t
about to be the reason they would all suffer for any longer than they
had too. The problem being, he had no mode of transportation, he would
have to run the entire distance, because he was currently located in
Silimay, a small, poor suburb of Capital City. No one here had anything
more than the make-shift shelters they called homes. Seifer had been
here on a mission to help clean up the area, and hopefully improve the
lives of the people.

With no other option, Seifer began to run.
He ran through the center of what some would call a city. He then ran
to its east side, heading towards Capital City. As he neared the edge
of town, and old man stood in his way, Seifer needed to leave, NOW, but
his primary duty was to help here as he could, and currently he could
see this old man needed his help. Or so he thought. Seifer stopped a
few yards from the elderly man who wore what appeared to be an
over-sized, worn out, ratty pillowcase for a shirt, a pair of old
shorts, and tissue boxes as shoes. Then, before Seifer had a chance to
say anything, the man proposed, “I see that you must get somewhere
quickly, and you have naught but your feet to travel by. Come, let’s
have tea.” Seifer was intrigued, but he didn’t have time for tea and
exchanging pleasantries with this old beggar. He objected, “Sir, I
don’t have time, if you have. . . “The man cut him short, “I assure
you, with what I am about to give you, you have all the time you could
need to have a cup of tea with an old, dying man, the name’s Argus. I
already know yours.”

Seifer begrudgingly followed the man into a
small hut that was seemingly made from pieces of old cars that had been
stacked upon one another. When he had first arrived in the area, Seifer
would have been utterly terrified of entering such a dwelling, but he
had grown to trust the craftsmanship of the people. As he entered Argus
had already began setting a pot to boil over a small fire and was now
rummaging through a small compartment on the east wall in an attempt to
find a couple of clean cups. Upon acquiring the cups he withdrew,
revealing a large mug and a small teacup. He then reached into a small
leather bag near the fire extracting a few bags of tea leaves that he
plopped into the bottom the containers.

As he began to speak,
the old man poured tea into the cups, “So, you need to get somewhere
and get there fast eh? Well, I’ve been working on something for some
time now, and I think it might just be ready for a test run.” Seifer
got nervous as the old man handed him the large mug. “Have you ever
heard of string theory my dear boy? Of course you haven’t, I invented
it. Well you see, the universe is laced with miniscule strands of time
and space. With the proper allocation of energy, these strings can be
manipulated, allowing for travel faster than the speed of light. I’m
also working on a theory that would allow time travel, but that is much
more complex my dear boy, all I’ve been able to do is make things seem
faster, or slower, but in reality they stay as they are. Anyway, back
to the matter at hand,” Argus babbled on occasionally sipping
delicately from his teacup. “You see, as I was finding scrap to build
my house, I came across a very queer motorcycle that was almost
completely intact. Then I outfitted it with a small device. My said
device allows you to make adjustments in order to change the direction
and distance in which you would like to go. Then, as you engage the
mechanism, it pulls on one of these space-time fibers, pulling you
across vast amounts of space, appearing at your destination the moment
you disappear from your current location. You must be warned though, if
you don’t know exactly where you are going, I wouldn’t advise using the
teleporter, if you will. For you see, a miss calculation could cause
you to find yourself stuck in a wall, or worse, stuck half in a wall.
You would then be unable to divide yourself from said entity. You would
be stuck for eternity.” The man let out a raspy laugh. He seemed amused
by the trepidation involved in using his device. “Good god my dear boy,
you have wasted too much time chatting with me. Get your arse out back
and let’s see what this baby can do.”

Argus led Seifer to the
back of his hut, mumbling something under his breath about explosions
and instability. “Now, you will take the bike to Capital City, however,
when you are done, you will bring it back to me you hear?” Seifer
nodded, hopping onto the seat. The bike was a deep green color; parts
of it seemed almost black. Nearly the entire bike was composed of huge
intake and exhaust manifold that protruded from either end. “Hold your
pants young man, you don’t even know how to manage the controls,”
complained Argus as he flipped open a small lid near the base of the
handlebars. He then went on to explain what each of the knobs and dials
did, taking a breath every two seconds to remind Seifer the dangers of
porting to somewhere he wasn’t exactly sure of what the distance
between him and said location was.

((Big long battle in
Capital City. Yeah, I’ll post this part with one of my charges and
probably a spell or two, it’s unimportant to what happens in this
history. In short, the liberalists won and the war was over.))

The
bike ominously roared into the city’s east quarter. It was adorned by a
man wearing a long, flowing, gray trench coat. After entering the city
Seifer took an immediate left to thank and honor Argus with a medal for
his contributions to the people of Timber. Seifer pulled the bike to a
quick stop at the entrance to the small pile of dilapidated cars.
Locking the kickstand down, he pulled himself from the bike. In his
left hand he carried a small box. Within the box was a small pendant
which resembled the signet of the liberation, and now the new nation of
Timber.

Seifer walked into the small homage without knocking and
plead, “Argus, we won, we won Argus.” There came no answer. As Seifer’s
eyes adjusted to the darkness that surrounded him, he noticed someone
sleeping on a small cot near the west wall of the common area. He
walked over and began shaking his shoulder. “Argus we. . .” Seifer
stopped short. The old man was dead. His facial expressions showed that
he had died in peace; as a happy man. Seifer lowered his head. He had
not known the man long, but his heart filled with sorrow as he dug him
a shallow grave near where he had assembled the invaluable motorcycle.
He buried the man with the medal he would have been honored with and
said a short prayer

Pictures:
Seifer Almasy (Approved) Seipher

Guest

Sephy says APPROVED and have a muffin for the longest most thought out history ever.

P.S. I will have the muffin section up sometime this week.

Subject: Re: Seifer Almasy (Approved) August 18th 2008, 7:48 am

Sorry, but you can only have one class.

I made a mistake on the Classes' section, we are only having one class now.

Seifer, just pick one class from the list please.

Sorry for the inconvienience, it was my mistake.

Subject: Re: Seifer Almasy (Approved) August 18th 2008, 10:48 am

No problem Cloud. Fixed it.

Subject: Re: Seifer Almasy (Approved) August 18th 2008, 5:31 pm

Alright,

APPROVED!

Subject: Re: Seifer Almasy (Approved) July 11th 2010, 5:56 am

Can I be back?

Is there a lot of activity around here still?

Subject: Re: Seifer Almasy (Approved) July 11th 2010, 9:47 am

We're desperately trying, Seifer... really we are!

Right now we still have Kuja here running amok as always ^^ We also have a Yuna and Tidus and Kefka whom I shall pester by shoving my feathers up their noses to get them active again >.>

And our fluffy feathered Sephiroth is also here stirring mischief! ^^

Although we've never met, I would be most happy to see you return!

Subject: Re: Seifer Almasy (Approved) July 14th 2010, 4:17 am

As co-admin of the site I can say for the rest of the people on here, yes you can come back. Sorry you just came when my internet access has been very limited I'll be more active after the 16.....till we leave for vacation on the 17th.....not much time to get really active is it?

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