Tinte is a man who lives to break people's expectations. Easily bored and highly adaptive, he can survive in any situation, coming up with seemingly-bizarre ways to weasel himself (and his ingroup) out of danger. Tinte is a conniving little shit, but he does boast strong loyalty to those who earn it and an insightful approach to both politics and the end goals of his dreams. Hopelessly passionate, what Tinte lacks severely in charisma and social smarts, he makes up for in his genuine determination to see whatever his pet project is through to the finish.
He has big dreams, though, bigger than anyone believes Tinte has a right to host. There's plenty of talk among Ink about how quick it'll be before someone with their head screwed on better overthrows Tinte; he purposely avoids this gossip and pretends it doesn't exist, although it's one of the few things that can get under his skin. The immense pressure of being only thirty-four and colony leader is crushing - anyone with weaker confidence would've crumpled already. Still, Tinte doesn't like having his age obsessed over.
Deep dissatisfaction defines Tinte: frustration with how colonies function, with the true purpose of life, with the state of the world as a whole. Rather than idly complain, however, he has the determination and stubbornness to try to fix all of those things at once. The best way, in his mind, is to enlist the help of the creators of Myrme - the gods themselves - to offer power, guidance, protection, and wisdom to the unwashed masses.
As a child, Tinte was part of a boom month - five other aner had happened to be born in the same short span, and they were raised as peers and friends. Despite having same-caste individuals of the same age, Tinte explicitly constantly felt othered (mostly of his own perception), and often snuck away from group activities and class to explore the colony's capital, Aaxe, instead. Rather than listen to the aner instructor drone on about the correct ways to petition the leader, Tinte sought out the Immortals of Ink, the Ants who had happened to live forever as thanks to random genetic mutations.
The Immortals had stories to tell - plenty of them. Details had long since fogged, but they could recall stories of gods and of war, of great heroes and miracles that rose up to save the colonies every time they stumbled too close to the line of collapsing. When the rubber hit the road, the gods were always there to make sure the landing only scuffed a bit, enough for the mortals to understand what went wrong and learn from their mistakes.
Tinte was deeply fascinated, never able to tear himself away. Rapt attention was given to these stories, these tales of loving, parental forgiveness, of patient caretakers tending to their flock of mortals.
But... there were no gods left on Myrme. They had all left generations ago, seemingly overnight, never to be seen again. Enough modern Ants considered them a myth at best and an urban legend at worst, used to intimidate the children into sleeping and eating their vegetables.
As he matured into adulthood, frustration began to mount at Flourish's slow-crawl conquest of Rain Colony, who shared a continent with Ink. The world was so big, beautiful, expansive, and here they were, wriggling along it at a snail's pace. If the colonies were united, they could pour global resources into bringing back the gods, to solve every issue that Tinte saw in the colonies.
And it'd be best if they weren't bickering over who got to pet the gyne. What a trite, absolutely infantile conflict. There were real gods, actual gods, a mere investigation away, and all Flourish and the other leaders could think about was sex.
Tinte knew he wouldn't be able to change anything unless he had power, influence, a way to instruct people, to change their perceptions and minds. He didn't want to stamp out all opposition, but if he was going to find gods, he needed resources, he needed people, he needed power. The world's issues would not resolve themselves idly while he tapped his fingers and watched it crawl to its death.
Flourish was not a bad man, but he was just in the way - he happened to be leader at the worst possible time. He fell easily, challenged out of the blue, moments prior to another conquest of Rain Colony.
As leader, Tinte turned the colony archives inside out, pouring every document over for information about the gods, information about leading. He replaced the entire upper colony management, filling them with peers that he knew enough about to trust, vaguely, in the positions. It would do him no good to have backtalkers and arguments.
For his first actions as the new head of the colony, Tinte marched on Rain with all Ink's might, unleashing a magical assault that neither colony was truly prepared for, but Tinte forced Ink through it anyways. Rain collapsed, havoc and panic taking whatever Ants that hadn't succumbed to the battle itself. TInte had integrated one of the other five, all within five years of becoming leader. An excellent start, truly.
He will find the gods. He will unify the world. And anyone who thinks otherwise will bend.
Tinte is fairly short for an aner, which only adds to the public perception of his youth. His features read as predominantly childlike; his face is overly round, his hair is bouncy and curly, and he seems to still have his baby fat, as if he never made it all the way through puberty. Despite this, he is still a functional adult Ant, and if he hadn't seized leadership at such a young age, it's likely nobody would care about his appearance.
Normally, Tinte dons a pink vest overtop of a short-sleeved pink shirt, with white trims. The shirt is slightly too large and has poofy sleeves, accenting his age. If he needs to look intimidating, he puts on a dark pink jacket.
Over his cheeks is almost, apparently, a sort of pink blush, although it's actually a marking (aner have teal blood). He also has heart-shaped pupils, which are of a soft gradient. His hair always seems overly shiny, although it's more from product than natural.
Like all Ants, Tinte has feelers on top of his head and a sharp set of teeth. However, he has a proper tail rather than the regular small furred Ant tail.
He's almost always found smiling, although it usually reeks of condescension.
• Favorite color is pink, creatively • Favorite season is Winter, for the snow and hot cocoa! • Favorite memory is getting a nice massage from a lovely gyne • Favorite foods are small, finger-food treats (like eclairs) • Strongest sense is hearing • Strongest taste is sweet • Left-handed • Is ticklish in the ribs, feet, and knees • Currently has no interest in becoming a god himself, but if it was brought up, would totally agree and go along with ascending • Strictly believes that there are no gyne gods because gyne are "too stupid to be a god" • Spent a while trying to learn the cello, got irritated when he wasn't learning as fast as he would've liked • Quietly into collecting plushies of sea animals • Goes through multiplication tables in his head to calm down when too angry • Used to want to go into the research division as a mathematician, but shrugged and went along with what the educational director wanted him to do • Reads most legends again before bedtime; has a huge stack of myths and books about the gods next to his bedside and runs through them periodically. Can recall most legends fairly accurately from memory • Does sometimes visit the gyne, although he doesn't fawn over them • Doesn't know how to swim