Full Name: Ishmael Bharquite II Race: Human Occupation: King of Balfour Faction, if applicable: Favors the Golden Hour Reputation & rumors: He's widely seen as an intellectual and a feckless ruler. It's been rumored that he paid a man to impregnate his wife when he could not and that the only reason he is still on the throne is because he has paid the Golden Hour to manipulate Belief in his favor. Age: 35 Birthday: May 29th Birth Location: Tyrol, Balfour Height: 5'11" Weight: 162lbs PB (Played-By): Stephen Campbell Moore
History: Almost nine months to the day that Arman Bharquite III married his young wife, Katrin was born. Disappointed by a female offspring, the king and queen tried tirelessly to produce an heir. As Katrin grew, beloved by her parents for her mettle rather than her sex, it took the royal couple seven years to produce Ishmael. When finally he was born, he proved to be only one thing: a disappointment.
Not only was he sickly, Ishmael proved to be sensitive as well. The least bit of scolding would reduce him to tears. His mother always wondered on his behavior; he'd never been shown any cruelty by her or his father. His father simply ignored him. The queen fired more nursemaids and governesses than could be counted before she discovered what was going on.
Constantly, and without knowing why, Ishmael was beaten by his elder sister. It started innocently enough. She was the older sibling, he was the younger. It was expected that she would give him a hard time. But as time went on and she grew to 14, 15, and he was still not yet 10, she began to understand their situation. Her sniveling little brother would be king and she would be married off. She tested each new wooden sword her trainer gave her on him, cracking it across his shoulder blades or against his knees. She drove the butt of it down on his knuckles when once he tried to inspect a dagger she got for her 16th birthday. On and on it went. And, though the queen finally noticed what was happening, she was powerless to stop it. Katrin was the king's favorite. Ishmael, just his heir.
The boy wasn't broken by his sister, however. From what he had been told by the servant children, beatings were something most people had to endure. The royal family was exempt, but even from a young age, Ishmael did not think much of his family. No, the beatings would make him more than them. If not in body, then in spirit.
Whenever he tried to focus on his studies, he was called a weakling and a sword was thrust into his hands. He didn't resent being the crown prince, he simply did not understand what the position entailed. His bad habit of staying up all through the night reading started at a young age. As such, he grew frail and unsuited for a real sword. So, disgraced, his father sent him to a fencing instructor.
He excelled at fencing. For the first time, Ishmael was bolstered by self-confidence. He might make his father proud. When he was ten and his sister seventeen, Ishmael gave a demonstration to his family. He parried and swept with his foil as deftly as he could, all to the applause of the court. Then Katrin stepped up and presented him with a real opponent, with a real sword. She beat him senseless, cracking his blade and drawing a long cut across his collarbone, mere inches from his jugular. It was a threat- even a boy could recognize that. And he respected that threat, even as the court turned their favor and applause on his sister, the princess.
Over the years, Ishmael continued his studying and fencing. He became increasingly interested in politics, though his father never listened to his son when he diplomatically suggested solutions to problems. No, it was Ishmael's job to be educated and married, that was all. The king was convinced his waif of a son would bring the kingdom to ruin; he would not hear Ishmael's plans in his lifetime.
He was married to the sister of Cristofolo Sabreme, Jr., Aleida Sabreme. He always knew he was destined to be one half of an arranged marriage and imagined it could not be more awkward than a marriage of love. Still, he tried to be a good companion to his wife, a loving friend, even though he knew they would never truly love each other. If they enjoyed one another's occasional presence and could raise children they were proud of, that was enough.
It was not soon after Arman, their heir, was born, that Ishmael's father died. A goiter the size of a turnip had finally shut off enough blood from his neck to his head that the king suffered a fatal stroke. Ishmael was named the king, Aleida the queen, Arman the crown prince. It was too much to handle in such a small window of time. Ishmael's thoughts ran away with him. He imagined reform, cleansing the lawbooks of all the ineptitude his father and his advisers had flooded them with. Before long, he realized that these were only pipe-dreams. Reform would take decades even with the right council on his side. He made slow progress when he could, but mostly, Ishmael waited.
Then, his sister stepped onto the scene. She began dictating his every move, first subtly with a well-received suggestion, then by grabbing him by his ear (as she had done when he was a boy) and telling him precisely what she would have him say. All those years of fear had instilled a reflex in him: what Katrin commands, you do. When Ishmael read off her decrees to the council, he was bolstered by fear. His voice was never steadier, his charisma never more palpable.
Lusine was born next, a beloved daughter. Ishmael's reign continued. No one was more surprised by that fact than the king. He suspected his sister had something to do with it, but he did not want to ask questions. However, after Sevda was born, another beautiful daughter, Aleida began to grow feeble.
It started with a slight cough, then a thick, wet quality of her breathing. Ishmael lay beside her most every night, praying to a god he did not believe in that the mother of his children would not leave their family. Aleida and Ishmael never did share a romantic love, but there was a deep friendship, an understanding. Neither one of them could bear to be cruel to the other. And, in the end, Ishmael could not bear to see Aleida go.
She died before Sevda was six months. The nursemaids and governesses took care of his children when Ishmael could not. What could he say to them? Nothing that would help. Still, when he could, when the lights were not all out and he could manage the stone stairs to their rooms, he would watch his children sleep and hope they knew they still had one parent.
After that, Ishmael's political vigor subsided. Katrin took that as an invitation into the meeting rooms and begin overpowering his advisers with her opinions. The inner sanctum is nothing more than a farce nowadays. The council squabbles, Katrin reins them in and, knowing full well she will be agreed with, asks the king his opinion. Ishmael hates himself for it, but he can't stand up to his sister. She is in his pocket because she cannot rule without him. He is in her pocket because, if he forgoes her protection, he and his son will surely be beheaded.
Since, Ishmael has gone back to his books and scribbling. He fraternizes with some of the lower nobility simply because they haven't yet been totally corrupted. He knows he must marry Arman and Lusine off to noble households soon. Sevda could do with a betrothal, but he doesn't want to lose all his children at once. He knows he ought to remarry as well, but it just seems like so much unnecessary work. Katrin will keep him on the throne no matter what; Ishmael would see that his children are happy rather than politically useful. After all, upsetting some alliances might cause his elder sister to sweat a bit.
Personality: As someone who has lived most of his life in the limelight, Ishmael is above all else cautious. Socially restrained (some might even say repressed), he talks very little outside of being directly addressed and usually confines himself to business, literature, the weather and the health of his family. As a result, most people find him rather predictable and dull, but that's preferable to being stock for gossip. In political settings, however, Ishmael is outspoken, opinionated and extremely forceful so long as his sister is not in the room. Among the nobility he is looked down upon for being a coward and squandering his ability to be a good king in the face of his elder sibling. The moment Katrin steps inside the meeting room, he fades into meekness.
With his children, especially his daughters, he is more animated. Ishmael is a stern father, not one to spoil his children, but can never resist a childish game or lighthearted teasing, usually at his sister's expense (but of course always behind her back). He is less confident around his son, but still does his best to guide him. Due to his position as king, he hasn't been able to spend as much time with the children as he would have liked and has trouble seeing them for the young adults they've grown into. He can be a bit protective and patronizing, but Ishmael means well.
More an intellectual than anything else, violence turns Ishmael's stomach and the sight of blood is enough to make him begin to faint. He prefers to keep peace by whatever means necessary- lying, giving up and running away, while he's not proud of it, are all viable options. He does harbor prejudice against the poor (though the poor who manage to keep themselves clean don't bother him nearly as much as the ones who don't) and the common. Etiquette is something he strictly observes.
When he is allowed to simply be himself, and that is a rarity, he displays a whimsical, nostalgic streak. You could almost describe him as a romantic, but the details of his life make that hard to believe. Despite his droopy-eyed, melancholy appearance, Ishmael is an optimist. After all, it isn't just fear of his sister that's kept him from abdicating; he believes very much in the strength and the potential of his people.
Appearance: Ishmael lives on the line that separates the average from the unfortunate. The occasional person, usually those who've caught wind of his rank or have known him a long time, might consider him good-looking- he has decent bone structure, well-shaped features and gentle grey-blue eyes. Most, however, find him plain or homely. His forehead is domed and much too wide, his nose is short, upturned and flared, he's sunken in all the places he should be puffy and puffy in all the places that respectable men are sunk. And, well, the freckles that cover almost every square inch of him (from a distance, it looks like he has a tan) make him look like an oversized child rather than a man. There is also a certain turtlish quality to him.
He dresses extremely well and is always neat as a pin. His dirty blonde hair hits the first notch on his spine and is usually slicked back into a tiny ponytail. His posture, as is typical among royalty, is painfully perfect- he can only sleep on his stomach because of back problems. Though he does subject himself to exercise when he remembers to, Ishmael is mostly flab and bones, possessed of a narrow build, but solid throughout. He cuts a much better figure from the front than from the side.
Languages Known: English, Italian, Spanish, Dutch Skills: Learning languages, able to look at situations impartially, lying, fencing. Strengths: Good at talking sense into people, so long as he's got a sheet of paper in front of him he can address the whole world and not break a sweat, always observes proper etiquette, long attention span and at least above average in terms of verbal articulateness. Weaknesses: Easily annoyed, can't swim, morally confused (if you can argue any point with a degree of certainty, how do you discover what you truly believe in?), demure, a lack of masculinity by Tyrolian standards, extremely repressed in personal life, guilt-ridden, pompous, burns in the sun like a bitch.
Full Name: Ishmael Bharquite II
Race: Human
Occupation: King of Balfour
Faction, if applicable: Favors the Golden Hour
Reputation & rumors: He's widely seen as an intellectual and a feckless ruler. It's been rumored that he paid a man to impregnate his wife when he could not and that the only reason he is still on the throne is because he has paid the Golden Hour to manipulate Belief in his favor.
Age: 35
Birthday: May 29th
Birth Location: Tyrol, Balfour
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 162lbs
PB (Played-By): Stephen Campbell Moore
History: Almost nine months to the day that Arman Bharquite III married his young wife, Katrin was born. Disappointed by a female offspring, the king and queen tried tirelessly to produce an heir. As Katrin grew, beloved by her parents for her mettle rather than her sex, it took the royal couple seven years to produce Ishmael. When finally he was born, he proved to be only one thing: a disappointment.
Not only was he sickly, Ishmael proved to be sensitive as well. The least bit of scolding would reduce him to tears. His mother always wondered on his behavior; he'd never been shown any cruelty by her or his father. His father simply ignored him. The queen fired more nursemaids and governesses than could be counted before she discovered what was going on.
Constantly, and without knowing why, Ishmael was beaten by his elder sister. It started innocently enough. She was the older sibling, he was the younger. It was expected that she would give him a hard time. But as time went on and she grew to 14, 15, and he was still not yet 10, she began to understand their situation. Her sniveling little brother would be king and she would be married off. She tested each new wooden sword her trainer gave her on him, cracking it across his shoulder blades or against his knees. She drove the butt of it down on his knuckles when once he tried to inspect a dagger she got for her 16th birthday. On and on it went. And, though the queen finally noticed what was happening, she was powerless to stop it. Katrin was the king's favorite. Ishmael, just his heir.
The boy wasn't broken by his sister, however. From what he had been told by the servant children, beatings were something most people had to endure. The royal family was exempt, but even from a young age, Ishmael did not think much of his family. No, the beatings would make him more than them. If not in body, then in spirit.
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He excelled at fencing. For the first time, Ishmael was bolstered by self-confidence. He might make his father proud. When he was ten and his sister seventeen, Ishmael gave a demonstration to his family. He parried and swept with his foil as deftly as he could, all to the applause of the court. Then Katrin stepped up and presented him with a real opponent, with a real sword. She beat him senseless, cracking his blade and drawing a long cut across his collarbone, mere inches from his jugular. It was a threat- even a boy could recognize that. And he respected that threat, even as the court turned their favor and applause on his sister, the princess.
Over the years, Ishmael continued his studying and fencing. He became increasingly interested in politics, though his father never listened to his son when he diplomatically suggested solutions to problems. No, it was Ishmael's job to be educated and married, that was all. The king was convinced his waif of a son would bring the kingdom to ruin; he would not hear Ishmael's plans in his lifetime.
He was married to the sister of Cristofolo Sabreme, Jr., Aleida Sabreme. He always knew he was destined to be one half of an arranged marriage and imagined it could not be more awkward than a marriage of love. Still, he tried to be a good companion to his wife, a loving friend, even though he knew they would never truly love each other. If they enjoyed one another's occasional presence and could raise children they were proud of, that was enough.
It was not soon after Arman, their heir, was born, that Ishmael's father died. A goiter the size of a turnip had finally shut off enough blood from his neck to his head that the king suffered a fatal stroke. Ishmael was named the king, Aleida the queen, Arman the crown prince. It was too much to handle in such a small window of time. Ishmael's thoughts ran away with him. He imagined reform, cleansing the lawbooks of all the ineptitude his father and his advisers had flooded them with. Before long, he realized that these were only pipe-dreams. Reform would take decades even with the right council on his side. He made slow progress when he could, but mostly, Ishmael waited.
Then, his sister stepped onto the scene. She began dictating his every move, first subtly with a well-received suggestion, then by grabbing him by his ear (as she had done when he was a boy) and telling him precisely what she would have him say. All those years of fear had instilled a reflex in him: what Katrin commands, you do. When Ishmael read off her decrees to the council, he was bolstered by fear. His voice was never steadier, his charisma never more palpable.
Reply
It started with a slight cough, then a thick, wet quality of her breathing. Ishmael lay beside her most every night, praying to a god he did not believe in that the mother of his children would not leave their family. Aleida and Ishmael never did share a romantic love, but there was a deep friendship, an understanding. Neither one of them could bear to be cruel to the other. And, in the end, Ishmael could not bear to see Aleida go.
She died before Sevda was six months. The nursemaids and governesses took care of his children when Ishmael could not. What could he say to them? Nothing that would help. Still, when he could, when the lights were not all out and he could manage the stone stairs to their rooms, he would watch his children sleep and hope they knew they still had one parent.
After that, Ishmael's political vigor subsided. Katrin took that as an invitation into the meeting rooms and begin overpowering his advisers with her opinions. The inner sanctum is nothing more than a farce nowadays. The council squabbles, Katrin reins them in and, knowing full well she will be agreed with, asks the king his opinion. Ishmael hates himself for it, but he can't stand up to his sister. She is in his pocket because she cannot rule without him. He is in her pocket because, if he forgoes her protection, he and his son will surely be beheaded.
Since, Ishmael has gone back to his books and scribbling. He fraternizes with some of the lower nobility simply because they haven't yet been totally corrupted. He knows he must marry Arman and Lusine off to noble households soon. Sevda could do with a betrothal, but he doesn't want to lose all his children at once. He knows he ought to remarry as well, but it just seems like so much unnecessary work. Katrin will keep him on the throne no matter what; Ishmael would see that his children are happy rather than politically useful. After all, upsetting some alliances might cause his elder sister to sweat a bit.
Reply
With his children, especially his daughters, he is more animated. Ishmael is a stern father, not one to spoil his children, but can never resist a childish game or lighthearted teasing, usually at his sister's expense (but of course always behind her back). He is less confident around his son, but still does his best to guide him. Due to his position as king, he hasn't been able to spend as much time with the children as he would have liked and has trouble seeing them for the young adults they've grown into. He can be a bit protective and patronizing, but Ishmael means well.
More an intellectual than anything else, violence turns Ishmael's stomach and the sight of blood is enough to make him begin to faint. He prefers to keep peace by whatever means necessary- lying, giving up and running away, while he's not proud of it, are all viable options. He does harbor prejudice against the poor (though the poor who manage to keep themselves clean don't bother him nearly as much as the ones who don't) and the common. Etiquette is something he strictly observes.
When he is allowed to simply be himself, and that is a rarity, he displays a whimsical, nostalgic streak. You could almost describe him as a romantic, but the details of his life make that hard to believe. Despite his droopy-eyed, melancholy appearance, Ishmael is an optimist. After all, it isn't just fear of his sister that's kept him from abdicating; he believes very much in the strength and the potential of his people.
Personality Keywords: Intelligent, restrained, sentimental, shrewd, guilt-prone, socially precise, deceptive, objective, level-headed, cowardly, meticulous, possessive, mild-mannered, optimistic, snobbish.
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He dresses extremely well and is always neat as a pin. His dirty blonde hair hits the first notch on his spine and is usually slicked back into a tiny ponytail. His posture, as is typical among royalty, is painfully perfect- he can only sleep on his stomach because of back problems. Though he does subject himself to exercise when he remembers to, Ishmael is mostly flab and bones, possessed of a narrow build, but solid throughout. He cuts a much better figure from the front than from the side.
Languages Known: English, Italian, Spanish, Dutch
Skills: Learning languages, able to look at situations impartially, lying, fencing.
Strengths: Good at talking sense into people, so long as he's got a sheet of paper in front of him he can address the whole world and not break a sweat, always observes proper etiquette, long attention span and at least above average in terms of verbal articulateness.
Weaknesses: Easily annoyed, can't swim, morally confused (if you can argue any point with a degree of certainty, how do you discover what you truly believe in?), demure, a lack of masculinity by Tyrolian standards, extremely repressed in personal life, guilt-ridden, pompous, burns in the sun like a bitch.
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