| Ishaq | |
|---|---|
| |
| Class | Cleric |
| Race | Asmodian |
| Gender | Male |
| Ascension Age | 20 |
| Current Age | 21 |
| Hair | Platinum Blonde |
| Skin | Pale Green |
| Eyes | Red |
| Height/Weight | 5'9/58kg |
| Residence | Pandaemonium |
| Occupation | Portrait Artist/Farmer |
| Player/Server | Evanlysis/TBD |
The Pervert, The Artist, The Cleric[]
Originally a son of a qooqoo farmer and a man of humble background, Ishaq is a self-proclaimed powerful daeva cleric who makes a living by painting portraits for the citizens of Pandaemonium. His view on life made a turning point when he witnessed his mother's dying breath from an incurable disease and often questioned himself on mortality, life and death. Eventually he vowed to himself to end suffering for human and bring 'eternal life' to mortals, not just by daevahood. It changed his outlook on life greatly and he learned to treasure the value of life and every precious memories.
Appearance[]
Ishaq is described as a lean, average young man with a flashy sense of fashion. He likes to appear in public with a 'bang' and attract attention but often, lands him in trouble with the authorities. His hair is platinum blonde and kept short, almost appearing white and he has pale green skin with a tribal marking on his right eye.
His face often carries a smug expression with seductive heavy-lidded eyes. Generally, he comes off as a boisterous, foul-mouthed young daeva with an uncontrollable tendency to flirt with and touch anything that moves. But as one gets to know him, Ishaq is really a caring, deep person.
Personality and Motivation[]
Ever since Ishaq was a child, he developed an obsession for daevahood and immortality, endlessly questioning himself why people get sick, grow old and die. His obsession eventually turned into an aspiration and a motivation to become a cleric so he could help people. His artistic talent also became a drive for his ambition and he took pride in 'preserving' and 'immortalizing' people's fondest memories. Soon, he realized the value of life and how precious it was to everyone, daeva and humans alike. (He spaces out thinking about it a lot)
Ishaq often comes off as an arrogant, boisterous and foul-mouthed man to hide his humble background. In truth, he is a spirited and silly young daeva who values life and friendship, and also loves helping people in need. He is also seductive, enjoys flirting and being lewd, just to get into someone's pants. Also a self-proclaimed ladies' man (but he fails at it.)
As for Ishaq's religion and philosphy, he is deeply devoted to Marchutan, the Lord of Destiny and the Shedim Lords. Ishaq's peculiar fascination with immortality and death has led him to believe that all life has to be valued regardless of good or evil.
History/Back Story[]
(From an excerpt of Ishaq's fictional story)
"Papa... Mama isn't moving."
"Son, mama's never gonna wake up."
"Why? Why do some people never wake up again."
"Look here, Ishaq. J-Just... don't question anymore. I-I called the priests and they'll take mama to a nicer place to sleep."
There was an awkward silence between the father and son. Quietly, Marzuq laid his hand upon his son's head and led him to rest on his chest. He took a second glance at his child - he never shed a tear. Whether it was shock or a strange glint of realization in his son's eye, the aged Asmodian could not decipher the child's thoughts.
Jaws tensed to a lip-biting position, the son spoke: "Papa, I am going to find eternal life. I don't want to die. I don't want anyone to die."
Marzuq looked away, averting his gaze from his son. What should I tell him? Telling a young child that everyone dies in the end? Is that how you raise your son? To a pessimistic young man that he'll die in this miserable, Aion-damned land when he grows old?
He could almost cry but he sucked in back his tears. Gazing down at his own knees, he tried to sound reassuring to his son with an arm over him.
"Daevas don't die. But y'know... not everyone's born a dae-"
"Daeva?!" The young child's eyes widened in excitement. "What are they?!"
"Immortals with wings, Ishaq... The Daevas."
The father and son shared a brief moment of hope, smiling at each other. What it seemed to be a tiny shard of hope but both knew it was possible. Maybe one in a few thousands among the human population may become a Daeva but it was something to be exuberant about. A knock on the door came and Marzuq answered as priests and funeral workers marched into the room with a chestnut-colored wooden casket. Faces grimaced at the dead woman's diseased condition, thrived from a harsh, sickly environment of Ishalgen. The priests chanted a sorrowful prayer, the workers picked up the lifeless body into the casket and carried away from the humble farmhouse.
The boy watched quietly as the priests left their qooqoo farm as the thunderclouds began to gather in the gloomy skies of Asmodae. He realized something important... It was not the passing of his mother. It was not about losing someone whom he held so close.
It was holding onto the value of life that struck deeply in his heart. Casting mortality away and embrace the an undying, eternal life. That is what people should become – A Daeva.
---
Ishaq, now a young, charming twenty year old man, sat in front of his easel with an unfinished painting spaced out. An impatient, disgruntled family posed behind the easel, tapping their feet and their children were yawning in boredom. Still, the young dreaming artist stayed caught up in his wandering thoughts.
“Hey, are you going to finish the painting or not? My legs are getting tired and I need the family portrait done soon!” The father yelled.
Ishaq snapped out of his trance and blinked at the annoyed family man. He rubbed his eyes and picked up his paintbrush thoughtlessly, returning back to his canvas.
“Oh yah, I am sorry. I'll finish this real quick. Sheesh!”
The young artist spent the last ten years drawing for families (sometimes, nude women...) who wished to preserve their most precious moments with their loved ones in a form of a still frame. The very thought of capturing an image of a family, everyone... together... was inspiring enough for Ishaq to provide art for his people. He loved his work, but he desired to ascend one step up to help his people – To become a cleric. However, this was not possible without funding. He worked hard to draw portraits for families in order to fund his studies as a cleric. On top of that...
“Ishaq! The qooqoos are hungry, go feed them!” A call came across from the barnyard.
“Why don't you do it yourself, papa? You're an lazy ass farmer, jeez!” He cried back out, quickly finishing up his work and cleaning up like a usual route.
Qooqoos. Aion-damned qooqoos.
Ishaq hated those gnat-sized brained little avians. They provided eggs and delicious meat but they were annoying and EVERYWHERE. It was his father's little humble business. They lived in poverty but it was the qooqoos that sustained their lives and expenses. Carefully, he scooped a handful of corn and scattered it across the farmyard as little, tiny birds clucked and flocked to the corn. An aged Asmodian sat in a shade, lying down lazily on a makeshift chair next to a farmhouse. He mumbled and nodded at his son as Ishaq shook his head.
“I know you're like old and feeble but you're JUST RIGHT THERE, papa! Why can't you do it yourself?”
“Ay ay, duncha talk ta yer papa like that. Not very respectful,” the older man waved his finger at Ishaq. “When I was your age, I did everything.”
“Right... Y'know, papa...”
There was something that needed to be discussed. If he stalled any longer, the young artist would miss his chance.
“I was thinking... I need a turning point in my life.”
The old man stared at his son and raised an eyebrow. “And what would that be, son?”
Ishaq swallowed and his voice dropped to barely a mumble, fearing for his father's disapproval. “The village's raiders are coming back and recruiting, people... So, I uh... going to join them as their cleric.”
Marzuq's eyebrow knitted, in an expression somewhere between shocked and questioning. “What in the Atreia are you saying?”
Ishaq cleared his throat, straightening up himself into a composure. He raised his voice in a confident manner and announced. “I am going to look for eternal life, papa. I am going to be a Daeva.”
And that, my son... You will sprout your wings and become one.
Current Life[]
Ishaq had only recently gained his ascension as a daeva through Munin's guidance. Poor and homeless, he tried shacking up in friends' homes and often got kicked out for being a freeloader (especially his travelling campanion, Majid). He tried to fund his studies at the cleric school by drawing family portraits for nobles. Even then when he has kinah, he spends his money on wine, food and women (sometimes, men).
From time to time, he returns to Ishlagen to visit his father, Marzuq.