ALASTYN

General informations : Name : Alastyn Eskild Gender : Male Birthday : 23. November (17 years old) Nationality : Norwegian Occupation : doing a break Music theme		Roleplay settings : xxxx
Summary: Alastyn is a young boy that acts weird and strange. He often looks empty, staring at things or people for long minutes without doing a single move, unfazed. His smile disappeared a few months ago, and he now looks dead inside, barely speaking or doing anything. However, despite a somewhat rude temperament, he is not mean and may accept a conversation.

Character origins

Personality

To be added. Maybe.

Backstory

Nothing would ever be the same.
He had been staring at the ocean for eight days already. Tides were shuttling back and forth; waves were rising to hit the sky before pouring down in a flow of dark foam before subsiding again. To the choppy and dancing seas were succeeding calm and inert ones. To bright days were succeeding freezing nights, the orangey sun giving way to aurora borealis, staining the sky from their cold colours such a brush strand traced there in the high sky by some superior entity. And, unflinchingly, day after day, the young boy was staying seated in front of the ocean, patiently waiting. Waiting for a boat which was not coming back, a boat whose the familiar bow would not break through the froth around the beach anymore. But the boy had lost track of time and remained convinced that his boat would come back. He would wait faithfully, to the end, like the loyal dog who waits for his owner to come back to the tree he tied him to. No matter the days going by, they would come back, the boy was sure of it.

Standing a few steps behind, his uncle was observing him without saying a word. He was feeling appalled by the view of his weak and starving nephew, sitting there for days on the edge of the wooden pontoon which was overhanging the ocean. He had come from Bergen to join his nephew after some of the village’s inhabitants had told him about the gravity of this situation. A situation the young boy would never be able to accept nor even consider.

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Alastyn was born on some November morning in a small inshore town In the west of Norway. Born into the harshness of the Norwegian winter, he learnt the scorching bite of extreme cold at the same time as the sweet warmth of a loving home. Three years after his birth, his mother gave birth to a second son, Askel. The young boys had lots of similarities, from their fragile appearance, their small and thin bodies being embellished from the same light blond hairs and the same greeny-blue eyes, to their calm and reserved personalities, and they quickly formed a strong bond.  However, while the love between the two brothers was continuously growing, the one linking their parents was quickly deteriorating, until the day their mother slammed the door, without even looking back at her sons, leaving them in the hands of their father Agvald. The latter then assumed his single father role without taking the time to mourn the departure of his wife. He kept loving and cherishing his two children, building a strong relationship with both of them.

Agvald was a fisherman, owner of a small white and blue boat with which he was going on the open seas, armed from his nets, to bring back the precious products he was selling on various markets within and around the town. In this way was growing the small family, feeding from the fishes and crustaceans brought by the father, and from some fruits and vegetables he was trading against a few sardines in the surrounding farms.  When they reached the right age, the two boys were allowed to follow their father oversea where they both learned to handle the nets and the helm, being happy to feel useful. Three pairs of arms being better than only one, they improved their crops, thus increasing the family’s income, while still staying modest. But they needed nothing more. Their little cottage, built no far from the seas, was big enough for the three boys who would not want to stay away from each other anyway. Their home was comfortably fitted out, decorated by some maritime trinkets from various origins, and the warmth of their mutual love was enough to counter the most vigorous winters. When Agvald’s brother was still living in the village with his wife and his three kids, the family would often reunite around the same table, covered by various fresh products, and the eau de vie was helping to loosen tongues when the ambience was slowing because of the effects of tiredness. But what the father and the two sons were loving most of all was simply spending time together, only three of them, sharing stories by the fireside or exploring the region’s fjords, when they were not facing the ocean’s ardours.  They were living a simple and daily happiness, enjoying the infinite pleasure to just be together, and the certitude that it would never end. This is how they were imagining their life: forever together. The young boys were not even considering founding a family, as they could not let a woman take them away from the ones they loved more than anything, and always would. This happiness shall never end, they were sure of it. Until life went to remind them that, more than often, it offers us happiness only for the sadistic pleasure to later take it away from us.

It was some nice winter morning, alike the one when Alastyn was born. He was sick that day, having caught some wandering virus. Although not being serious, his illness had force him to stay in bed for a few days, the needed time to fight his fever. Meanwhile, Askel and Agvald would go to catch the needed fish without his help. The sea was rough, as often during winter. They were used to this capricious and moody entity who was striking the hull of their fragile boat with its violent waves, losing its temper over them for no apparent reason. They accomplished their job no matter what, not minding the jets of cold water attacking them each time their craft heavily felt back into the restless swell after having ridden a high wave. But the wind was taking them away and, soon, they were unable to distinguish the coast amongst the haze which was covering the angry flow. Not suspecting their difficulties, Alastyn was heating some water for a tea while waiting for his brother and father to return, which should not be long coming. Diner’s time was getting close and they should be home quite soon. His father would them wave a huge salmon, pink and fat, while a proud smile would enlighten his face. Askel would then embrace his brother and feel his forehead to make sure the fever had lowered.  Alastyn would reassure him by telling him the headache was gone for good. But the hours go by, and still nobody pushed the heavy wooden door. As he was patiently staring at said door, Alastyn thought they should soon paint it again, as the turquoise paint was chipping off, letting the brown wood appear underneath in some places.  At nightfall, the young boy went to the window from where he could barely see the sea. He thought that his father and his brother probably had found a large shoal of fishes and wanted to profit of it as much as possible before coming back home. More hours passed, the sun rose, and the two men were still not home. Maybe did they go to the market already? Alastyn got dressed and left the house, rushing toward the harbour to make sure the family’s boat was moored. It was not. Thus, he went to the wooden pontoon that was overhanging the sea and waited. They would come back, he was sure of it. He would wait until they are back.

Ongoing Story

What is a smile? Something his face would never let appear anymore, but that would forever haunt his dreams. The smile of Askel, his younger brother.

Amund, his uncle, had tried in vain to drive him from the wooden pontoon, eroded by the water, on which the boy persisted to wait indefinitely for a boat that would never come back. He had tried to take his nephew to Bergen, but the young had run away the following day to go back to the village’s port where his father and brother had been seen for the last time. Day after day, he was staying motionless, sitting on the pontoon’s edge, scrutinising the sea waiting to catch sight of the eagerly awaited white snail. Amund resigned himself: the only way to detach the boy from this pontoon was to send him far enough for him to be unable to come back. Thus, he decided to send Alastyn to some more or less distant cousin living at the other side of the country. Kristen warmly welcomed the new-comer, trying to comfort somehow the kid who was refusing any way of communication. There were nothing to do: Alastyn was spending his whole days prostrate in some room’s corner, staring at a wall or at some random object, both his face and eyes staying unable to show any emotion nor feeling. At night, she would sometimes hear his creams after he had been woken up by one of his unbearable nightmares. After some months, tired of the daily view of the cold distress of a boy that refuses any kind of effort, she let him have the small house she had inherited from her deceased mother but had never inhabited herself as the house would be too small for her own kids. Alastyn found himself all alone, left to his own devices, getting enough money to buy food but not enough to travel back home. From this day, he survives more than he lives, simply waiting for his father to come pick him up, being still persuaded he would come back someday soon.