NAME Melon Phips
GENDER: Male
AGE: 25
RACE: Human
HOMETOWN:
OCCUPATION: Fool
APPEARANCE: Melon is a fairly tall lanky man. He’s a bit thin side and his hands are a little bigger than normal. His face, under the make up, is handsome but he generally looks like he’s ready to grimace. His mouth is a little wide, and there are faint creases from frowning too much and his eyes droop a bit and his nose is always a little red. Melon is basically a man with the natural puppy face of woe.
His hair is black and just sort of hangs to his shoulders. His back is a little curved, but that’s just because he’s too lazy to straighten up. Melon is a guy who personifies 'drippy'.
With makeup(....maybe. He looks scary XD)
Without makeupPERSONALITY:
Melon is a bland humorless person. His own sense of humor is nonexistent and honest to goodness humorous things seem to wash off him like water off a ducks back. If you tell him a joke he’ll just stare at you until you break the ice or just go away. Genuine smiles are rare for him, but he tries to make people feel comfortable around him (his smiles generally turn out looking more like a grimace).
Melon detests classical comedy, but as it's the only thing he knows how to do he does on the rare occasion try a joke when he’s nervous or feeling shy. Or he might smile weakly and perhaps juggle a ball or two, maybe he’ll even get hit in the head and fall or do something else mundane and slightly irritating (he’ll do nothing funny. If it's funny clowns won't be doing it). He falls back by habit to clowning whenever he’s overwhelmed by socially awkward situations. And while, thankfully, he’s not often one to feel terribly shy and thus annoy the daylights out of any poor person who happens to be within range he still always likes to be well prepared. He gains some small enjoyment of planning things ahead, and so he’ll carry around an amusingly mismatched bag filled with fake chickens, pies, and things that make noises. His favorite most loved item is his horn and he'll honk at you occasionally. Honking is about the only thing he enjoys doing as a clown and possibly one of the only things that can make him grimace happily every time. It’s very handy when in company.
His unhappiness doesn’t mean he’s introverted. He’s not antisocial, but speaking to him you do get the vague impression that he’d much rather be having a stiff drink and a lie down. But he does, in his heart of hearts, want to get along with people. He’s just so awkward that he finds it hard to hold a proper conversation and make meaningful relationships. At the end of the day, he's potentially pleasant to get along with... if you have a lot of patience and don't mind the occasional bad joke... or clowns.
Melon also has a few minor issues of self loathing. Not the sort where you're ready to throw yourself in front of a stampede of horses, but enough that everyday in the morning while applying his happy face he'll hate himself just a little. Pride, dignity, and shame is something he's long abandoned.
HISTORY: (Tweak me!!)
Melon Phips was born the first and only child to Rosie and Baguette, who came from a long line of court jesters and clowns (This was always a puzzle to him. Melon, to this day, is of the opinion that the circumstances of his parents marriage was based on a lack of make up, a masculine stretch of the shoulders, and a well placed ‘Well, you know... I work at the castle’. Melon couldn’t figure any other reason why anyone would marry a jester, because he certainly didn’t win her over with a tired joke and a honk on his horn). He lived in a reasonable sized home with his parents and his grandfather, a stern old man who had a face like chiseled granite and an expression of eternal disapproval. His grandfather, Fin, was a very grim man and was often the one to look after and tutor him throughout his childhood while his father worked and his mother drank various delicious cocktails. Melon, from the time he was old enough to read, was trained to become a jester just as his grandfathers and mothers before him had been. In a different world, Fin may have been a general who made his subordinates cry with a look, but life gave him clowning instead. Fin was a figure larger than life to Melon, and even though he wished every now and than that his grandfather would conveniently go away he still had a great amount of respect for the man.
Fun rarely factored into Melon’s life when he was growing up. Thanks to Fin most of his time was spent reciting and memorizing jokes and practicing gags and routines. Training was very strict, and if he didn’t get things right he was sent off to his room. It was around this time that Melon’s sense of humor was rammed into the ground and trampled.
During his training, he often wished he could go out and play with the other children. He often watched them playing knights and horses. This sparked a bit of an interest in him, and when he wasn’t practicing or memorizing jokes, he would be reading and looking at pictures in books about knights and the like. Highly intrigued by the idea of being a man who was respected, he secretly daydreamed about being a knight on some kind of animal. However, being a practical logical boy, he knew all that was in his future would be chickens and horrible jokes and accepted it. By the time he was sixteen, jestering was just a part of who he was and he found himself capering about even when he didn’t really want or mean to. At this time, during one of Fin’s lessons on the finer art of tripping, his grandfather dislocated a hip. From there his grandfathers health declined and Melon wound up taking care of his grandfather, putting his studies on the back burner.
At the age of seventeen, Melon found himself at his grandfather’s bedside along with his father and mother. Fin clasped Melon’s hand tight, and looked him straight in the eyes and made him promise to continue the family traditions, and be a jester for the rest of his years. Melon, of coarse, didn’t feel like he had much choice at that point so he nodded and watched his grandfather quietly slip away to a land with hopefully no rubber anything. Baguette patted Melon’s shoulder at the time, and told him that he’d make Fin very proud as he’d be a natural clown. Of coarse life doesn’t always turn out quite the way it’s expected to.
Melon was 21 by the time his formal training is over, and thus he went to find a job. This was the point when Melon realized nobody really hired fools anymore, for the obvious and logical reason that they weren’t funny and were a grand waste of money. Panicked, Melon realized that all he knew were bad jokes and how to hit himself with things, which wouldn’t make him a lot of money at all.
Feeling like his life was a total waste of time; Melon packed up his few belongings and ran away from home to find a career and a means to make money. Finding the flier for the league was like a gift from above. So, for the next few years Melon lived a somewhat hobo-ish lifestyle while he practiced to do what he’d always secretly wanted to do as a child. He knew there was no chance by then of ever learning to use a sword competently, so he stuck to things he knew which were projectile weapons. And at the age of twenty five with a reasonably good shave, Melon went to join the Asterion League.
- Family of jesters (who marries a jester D:- Really wanted to be a knight
- Doesn’t really want to be a jester
- Trained anyway because that’s what his folks and granddad wanted
- Granddad dies, makes him promise to be a proud jester forever, Melon’s thinking ‘like I have a choice’
- By the time formal training is over, who wants jesters anymore. And all he knows are bad jokes.
- Runs away
- find poster.
COMMON KNOWLEDGE:
- He doesn’t find life very funny
- Loves alcohol
-
He cries himself to sleep at nightsDIVISION:
CLASS PROGRESSION: Fool > Perriot > Jester
SPECIAL SKILLS
WEAPON
LEVEL One
POINT ASSIGNMENT
HIT POINTS
EVADE
OTHER NOTES
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