ABOUT THAYER | With my white knuckle dying grip, can I keep such faith?
i’ve crawled from eden just to end up at your door, raised to be an obedient serpent to false gods. oh, how easy it is to return to their secret gardens and sleep under the lulls of the old habits of man that die screaming. if we say yes to heaven, we’ll burn this city down. can you tear yourself apart for evolution, to be more than a dog at their bedside and bare venom and your bite? you are blood and bones, but far from bloodthirsty. you are but a rose wilted to take its thorns. this showmanship is tethered to keep it for you in sweetness. become lovestruck with their promise, burn in lovelorn, be lovesick for your captors. you have no idea the color of your own blood on their hands.
CHARACTER BASICS
NAME: Sir Thayer Verkon
AGE: Thirty-Three
GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cis man, He/Him
FACE CLAIM: Jonathan Bailey
EYE COLOR: Brown
HAIR COLOR: Brown, gray peppered throughout hairline
HEIGHT: 5'11″
DATE OF BIRTH: September 6th
ZODIAC SIGN: Virgo
SEXUALITY: Bisexual
RANK: Knighted, Court Spy
CHARACTER HISTORY (tw: su*cidal ideation)
Charms come in threes, and it is no exception that any man with worth bestowed upon them by the divine protects it with three hers. But, what good is the youngest son other than a game piece set aside for the very worst? Their potential is reserved for when their beloveds meet the grave. This feeble branch of the Verkon tree once held promise, but they have since devoted their talents to the battlefields. Thayer is the son of the hymns spoken in war, and while most seek gold, his name was always meant to be carved in stone under the church as a humble saint of his time.
Thayer considers himself no better than baby teeth, something promising only when blood and the tear of skin finally appears. A third son of a third son of a third son, ringing in as the superior charm of threes, he has always known his worth would only ever be reached in the face of tragedy. Like his ancestors, he found himself preparing for a war he never quite understood even from a young age. There was no need to familiarize himself with good or evil, only to obey orders set by those whose crest he wore on his chest. However, Thayer often found himself questioning right and wrong. Too early was the world painted a dull gray, and he would be taught to bite him tongue until his words sputtered red when he challenged just how good and pure those around him were.
What good was a soldier with a mind, one who did not just hold faith to return home or protect his king but questioned the nature of the realm? So many swore he was meant to be a scholar, but when he began to twist his studies to challenge the way of their world, Thayer was quickly sent to learn how to wield a sword over a pen. Aspirations of teaching, of becoming an integral part of Aradyan's church, were stripped away.
Like his father and his grandfather before him, Thayer brought victory to his name, region, and crown. Honor was bestowed upon him worth retirement, but he insisted on returning to the fight. He needed the cold damp earth of waiting for battle to sleep, the rattling of his bones only ever ignored when it was masked by the sound of marching. It was easier to ignore his thoughts when death was at his side, like a taunting brother or helpful father, sweeping through every wave of war. This violence, however, would finally serve its consequence to him for trying to use it as sedation to challenging good and evil. Thayer fell in battle, and his blood was spilled across the earth. His survival was a miracle, the only word any could use when the scar across his throat peers out from his collar.
Forced to retire and accept the gild of his honor, Thayer remained restless even after his recovery. He was often found at the foot of the church when he snuck away from his chambers avoiding the healers— some say they caught him begging for death, others in the delirium of poppy seed and wine. Most days were spent at the church trying to make peace with his god because without the battle field, what was he? All he was now was the hollowness of his armor, and without the roar of soldiers, he was left alone with the hammering of his heart. It took time to accept that this was his end, to linger in mundane society and endless symphonies that grew dull.
PRESENT DAY
Despite rumor of his reluctancy to accept his homecoming, Sir Thayer was summoned to Coňstanja to use his tactics in a different light. His manipulation, so carefully crafted to serve him in his recovery, was to be put to use within the castle. The notorious charm of a man not afraid of death would make him not just resilient, but a spectacle that worked like a snake in the grass. His days of bloodshed are over, but he is a soldier at heart. Even wilted, Thayer can still provide the crown with the manipulation of their subjects infatuated with the aroma of a rose or a thorn in their side they can't quite place.
TLDR (tw: su*cidal ideation)
Sir Thayer Verkon is part of the extended family of the Verkons that serve as the wardens of Araydan. He is the third son of a third son's third son, ringing in a seeming curse on his branch of the Verkon house to be insignificant and only serve purpose in the event of a tragedy a feeble heir. Most of his family devoted themselves to being soldiers, and he is no different. His endeavors of becoming a scholar and vital part of his church were stripped away for questioning the crown at a young age, leaving him to color good and evil both in gray.
Thayer was eventually injured in battle with his throat slit, but survived and was forced into retirement. He struggled to accept this and could not acclimate to a mundane life as war still haunted his body and soul. Rumors of him seeking out the church to ask their god for death had swept past many, but it was overturned as the madness consuming him during his recovery. He was summoned to court to serve as a spy in plain sight, being used as a spectacle and a lapdog as needed.
HEADCANONS (tw: religion, s*lf h*rm mention)
Thayer is graying more than his siblings despite being the youngest, with most of the gray his hair along the front of his head.
He has a scar along his throat that often peeks out from the collar of his shirts and jackets. It is slightly raised and one corner is pale, while the rest is still a blushed pink.
During his denial of being retired as a soldier, Thayer had tried to ruin his body as if to "entice death to take him." He ended up inking his body to inflict pain and permanence, a smite against his god, but ultimately accepted his new existence. Since then, he has converted the blasphemy etched into his skin with new markings dedicated to the church and nature itself that he feels he aligns himself to more than his god. These markings are carefully hidden and have only been seen with those he has been intimate with. However, anyone who has enticed him to fencing or humorous sword fights has seen them peek out from underneath the linen of his shirts. They have never been addressed but he hopes to not have to explain them to any noble. They appear like ink transferred from a book page or a letter, splotchy in some areas and then faint.
Thayer was far more devoted to his church when he was younger. While he has his current doubts and strayed away from his faith, there is a loyalty to it found in ritual alone to bring him comfort. He follows certain practices for their predictability and routine to silence the uneasiness that overwhelms him from time to time.
WANTED CONNECTIONS
Some extended family drama with the Verkons, whether it be that his name leaves a bad taste in their mouth or it's something with the actual House Verkon
The good ol’ classic hook up, possibly someone he was tasked with getting close to at court, a former flame from Araydan or when he was near other regions for battle.
Healers who were there when he was injured in battle and forced into retirement, or healers he is familiar with through war efforts
Potential bad influences, as well as good
Some scholarly friends, he is a hopeless romantic turned into an existentialist
Friends, enemies, everything and anything!
CURRENT CONNECTIONS
TBD
