Sir Percival App
Jun. 22nd, 2013 12:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
metemmods Player Information
» Name: Pixie
» Date of Birth: 12/12/1955
» Journal: tatterpixie on Dreamwidth
» Contact: tatterpixie @ gmail; AIM pixief00l (that's an L on the end)
Deity Information
» Pantheon: Celtic/Arthurian
» Deity: Sir Percival
» Reference: Condensed version; more info here
» Divine Family: {mother & father} mother unnamed, father unknown; {spouse} Blancheflor, in some stories; {siblings} sometimes two brothers, sometimes a sister; {children} none
» Mythology: Born a commoner in most versions of his tale, Sir Percival (sometimes spelled Perceval or Parsifal) is one of the most renowned of the Knights of the Round Table. Appearing in the earliest stories of King Arthur's knights, he is known as one of the Grail Knights, those who completed the quest for the Holy Grail. A fearsome fighter, after getting laughed at by Arthur's senechal Kay when he first arrived at Camelot demanding to be knighted he killed the Red Knight, who had been plaguing Arthur and who the other knights feared. Over the course of the stories about him Percival defeated practically everyone whose path he crossed, including several of the Round Table knights. He was considered to be one of the greatest of Arthur's knights.
He wasn't just a fighter, though. Women played a huge role in the stories about him, from his unnamed mother who raised him alone to his girlfriend (and eventual wife, in some stories) Blancheflor, niece of his mentor Gornemant, to various maidens and damsels he encountered. His adventures were as much about chivalry and love as they were about glory, which he more stumbled into than actually sought.
One of the oldest stories about Percival is Perceval, le Conte du Graal, written in the 12th century by Chretien de Troyes. While out adventuring, Percival comes across a king fishing in a river. The Fisher King, who has a crippling wound that won't heal, takes a shine to him and invites him back to his castle Carbonek for dinner. While there, he sees a mysterious parade of items, including a Grail which glows from within, but because he'd been admonished by Gornemant over asking too many questions, he keeps his mouth shut. Big mistake. Next morning he wakes up to a deserted castle. After he leaves, he finds out his mother has died, and eventually gets dragged back to Camelot by Gawain to get knighted. En route, he gets scolded by a loathsome damsel for not asking whom the Grail serves, which would have healed the Fisher King's wounds. After five years of adventures (featured in the Continuations, as the original work is incomplete), during which he learns the significance of the Grail, meets his sister and cousin, and does a lot of soul-searching as well as fighting, Percival finally returns to Carbonek, asks the question, and heals the crippled king. In a sort of epilogue, he ascends to the throne of Carbonek years later when the Fisher King dies and becomes the guardian of the Grail.
Character Information
» Played By: Thomas McDonell
» Journal:piercethevale
» Current Name: Chance Purcell
» Birthdate: 04/14/1990
» Height: 5'7"
» Distinguishing Marks: Longish hair, usually sports a scruffy short beard; often has a bruise or two somewhere due to getting hit with sticks while in armor
» Family: {mother & father} Liz and Edward Purcell; {marital status/spouse} single; {siblings} none; {children} none; {pets} none
» Occupation: Construction worker
» Currently Residing In: New York City
» Ability: Exceptional martial skill, particularly with a sword
UPDATED ABILITIES: Percival's sword-fighting skills increase to peak-human. His SCA opponents won't know what hit them.
» History: This is Percival's first reincarnation.
Chance Allen Purcell was born and raised in Portland, Oregon. Dour, strict and paranoid, his parents sheltered him from the outside world, and he grew up a somber little boy with few friends, homeschooled and not allowed to interact overmuch with other kids. His family life was far from ideal, clearly, and it only got worse from there. When dad ran off when he was 11, his mom went hog-wild, spending more time at bars and clubs than at home, leaving him to run feral kind of like a benign male Pippi Longstocking. He was sent to public school for the first time in his life in the junior year of high school after a year or so of no schooling at all when the neighbors ratted mom out to the truant officer. To everyone's surprise, he actually did well enough that he graduated at 19 with high honors.
Not that he did anything with it. Shortly after graduating, he took off on his motorcycle and started drifting around the country doing odd jobs, mostly construction. He would stay in one place for anywhere from a few months to close to a year before moving on, living in transient hotels and youth hostels. Then one day he discovered the Society for Creative Anachronism when he came across a fighter practice while passing through Denver, Colorado. He immediately fell in love with the SCA, taking up fighting as soon as he could get his armor together. He stuck around for several months before moving on, but his travels now included connecting with local SCA groups and getting involved as a fighter, sometimes ending up with a place to live out of it. As he got better and better, which didn't take long as he demonstrated something of a natural talent for it, he started having weird dreams and little half-memories that he thought were just idealized fantasies of what being a knight would be like, and would have been like in the Middle Ages. That became his goal: becoming a knight.
By the time Chance turned 22 he'd been in New York City almost a year and was having crazy vivid dreams about a wounded king and a magical cup on top of everything else. His memories as Percival surged back full force when he finally became an SCA knight a few months later -- his sponsoring knight, in disbelief that he hadn't yet, made him read the Arthurian cycle while he sat vigil and it was all over but the weeping and laughing. This kept up through the knighting itself; everyone thought he was just overwhelmed, which he was, but not by the ceremony.
He's still in New York City, doing construction work and playing knight on the weekend while he assimilates actually being a knight for reals.
» Personality: Chance is a nice guy, if a little obtuse. He comes across as the perpetual fish out of water, due no doubt to his sheltered upbringing. A diehard neophile, he will try new things because he can. He's a good soul, friendly and sociable, but he really doesn't care what people think of him. This isn't snobbery on his part -- it's more that peoples' opinions simply don't register on his personal radar. People in general don't tend to register on his radar unless they deliberately catch his attention. He's not so much driven as goal-oriented; not so much ambitious as he doesn't know that he can't do a thing he wants to do (like the old joke about one defying the law of gravity because one never studied law). Set something in front of him that he wants to achieve, and he will single-mindedly pursue it with every fiber of his being and using any means at his disposal to get it, short of lying or stealing.
The boy doesn't have a duplicitous or dishonest bone in his body -- he couldn't lie if his life depended on it. He's not rebellious, though some may think he is. In truth, he is actually quite obedient, once you get his attention and explain the rules to him. He doesn't do things out of malice or spite; he just does what he does because he doesn't know any better. Chance has that kind of naive wisdom that comes from having an unconditional faith in humanity (here naive = unsullied and non-cynical) -- he still has that, amazingly enough, despite the life lessons he's learned on his travels, that people sometimes don't mean what they say and will hurt you to get what they want.
The naivety cuts both ways, too (here naive = ignorant and lacking practical experience). He's painfully gullible, and is burdened with an overactive imagination that leans towards catastrophic thinking; if you're late for a date, for example, he will come up with all manner of wild over the top negative scenarios as to why (and be incredibly relieved and grateful and attentive when you do show up). He has no inhibitions, is far too impetuous, and suffers from the attention span of a goldfish.
Chance is the opposite of a stick-jock; relentlessly polite and chivalrous to everyone even outside the SCA, he especially respects women and treats each one like a lady.
» Other Notes: Straight as a laser beam, not at all averse to female companionship of any variety, though it sometimes takes a cluebat upside the head to get his attention.
Known in the SCA as Alun the Wanderer.
» Sample Journal:
Fighter practice tonight was great! I got some good work in with the new shield and even rung Duke Ranulf's bell with a surprise snap. I was really pleased how well I fought. I should be ready for Crown in no time, as long as I find someone to fight for.Oh right, gotta get my paperwork in for that. Soon as I find a consort. The post-practice was fun too, as usual. David brought that game again and Melissa kept buying me beers. I would have given her a ride home except my armor bag took up too much of the passenger seat on the bike.
Tomorrow after work I'm going over to Alaric's to do some more sword practice. We've got that live-steel demo coming up at the Cloisters and I want to be in it!
» Sample Log:
"Hey baby. Looking good."
Chance had been about to take a bite out of his sandwich when the catcalling started. He looked over at the other two construction workers, who had their eyes glued to a woman who was walking by on the street. "Dude," he said to the closest one. "Don't do that. It's not nice."
The man looked at him. "What?"
"I said it's not nice to do that."
The two men laughed. "Yeah, right," the first one smirked. "What are you gonna do about it?"
As soon as they turned their attention back to the woman, a large bolt flew out of nowhere and hit the first man on the side of his hardhat. "What the hell!" he yelled, and they both glared at Chance as they started to get up.
The look on Chance's face made them pause. "Don't. Do that."
"Alright alright, geez." They settled down to their lunches, keeping half an eye on him.
Satisfied, Chance looked at the woman as she hurried past. "Sorry, miss," he shrugged with a smile. She gave him a glance before disappearing into the crowd. Still smiling, he bit into his sandwich.
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» Name: Pixie
» Date of Birth: 12/12/1955
» Journal: tatterpixie on Dreamwidth
» Contact: tatterpixie @ gmail; AIM pixief00l (that's an L on the end)
Deity Information
» Pantheon: Celtic/Arthurian
» Deity: Sir Percival
» Reference: Condensed version; more info here
» Divine Family: {mother & father} mother unnamed, father unknown; {spouse} Blancheflor, in some stories; {siblings} sometimes two brothers, sometimes a sister; {children} none
» Mythology: Born a commoner in most versions of his tale, Sir Percival (sometimes spelled Perceval or Parsifal) is one of the most renowned of the Knights of the Round Table. Appearing in the earliest stories of King Arthur's knights, he is known as one of the Grail Knights, those who completed the quest for the Holy Grail. A fearsome fighter, after getting laughed at by Arthur's senechal Kay when he first arrived at Camelot demanding to be knighted he killed the Red Knight, who had been plaguing Arthur and who the other knights feared. Over the course of the stories about him Percival defeated practically everyone whose path he crossed, including several of the Round Table knights. He was considered to be one of the greatest of Arthur's knights.
He wasn't just a fighter, though. Women played a huge role in the stories about him, from his unnamed mother who raised him alone to his girlfriend (and eventual wife, in some stories) Blancheflor, niece of his mentor Gornemant, to various maidens and damsels he encountered. His adventures were as much about chivalry and love as they were about glory, which he more stumbled into than actually sought.
One of the oldest stories about Percival is Perceval, le Conte du Graal, written in the 12th century by Chretien de Troyes. While out adventuring, Percival comes across a king fishing in a river. The Fisher King, who has a crippling wound that won't heal, takes a shine to him and invites him back to his castle Carbonek for dinner. While there, he sees a mysterious parade of items, including a Grail which glows from within, but because he'd been admonished by Gornemant over asking too many questions, he keeps his mouth shut. Big mistake. Next morning he wakes up to a deserted castle. After he leaves, he finds out his mother has died, and eventually gets dragged back to Camelot by Gawain to get knighted. En route, he gets scolded by a loathsome damsel for not asking whom the Grail serves, which would have healed the Fisher King's wounds. After five years of adventures (featured in the Continuations, as the original work is incomplete), during which he learns the significance of the Grail, meets his sister and cousin, and does a lot of soul-searching as well as fighting, Percival finally returns to Carbonek, asks the question, and heals the crippled king. In a sort of epilogue, he ascends to the throne of Carbonek years later when the Fisher King dies and becomes the guardian of the Grail.
Character Information
» Played By: Thomas McDonell
» Journal:
piercethevale» Current Name: Chance Purcell
» Birthdate: 04/14/1990
» Height: 5'7"
» Distinguishing Marks: Longish hair, usually sports a scruffy short beard; often has a bruise or two somewhere due to getting hit with sticks while in armor
» Family: {mother & father} Liz and Edward Purcell; {marital status/spouse} single; {siblings} none; {children} none; {pets} none
» Occupation: Construction worker
» Currently Residing In: New York City
» Ability: Exceptional martial skill, particularly with a sword
UPDATED ABILITIES: Percival's sword-fighting skills increase to peak-human. His SCA opponents won't know what hit them.
» History: This is Percival's first reincarnation.
Chance Allen Purcell was born and raised in Portland, Oregon. Dour, strict and paranoid, his parents sheltered him from the outside world, and he grew up a somber little boy with few friends, homeschooled and not allowed to interact overmuch with other kids. His family life was far from ideal, clearly, and it only got worse from there. When dad ran off when he was 11, his mom went hog-wild, spending more time at bars and clubs than at home, leaving him to run feral kind of like a benign male Pippi Longstocking. He was sent to public school for the first time in his life in the junior year of high school after a year or so of no schooling at all when the neighbors ratted mom out to the truant officer. To everyone's surprise, he actually did well enough that he graduated at 19 with high honors.
Not that he did anything with it. Shortly after graduating, he took off on his motorcycle and started drifting around the country doing odd jobs, mostly construction. He would stay in one place for anywhere from a few months to close to a year before moving on, living in transient hotels and youth hostels. Then one day he discovered the Society for Creative Anachronism when he came across a fighter practice while passing through Denver, Colorado. He immediately fell in love with the SCA, taking up fighting as soon as he could get his armor together. He stuck around for several months before moving on, but his travels now included connecting with local SCA groups and getting involved as a fighter, sometimes ending up with a place to live out of it. As he got better and better, which didn't take long as he demonstrated something of a natural talent for it, he started having weird dreams and little half-memories that he thought were just idealized fantasies of what being a knight would be like, and would have been like in the Middle Ages. That became his goal: becoming a knight.
By the time Chance turned 22 he'd been in New York City almost a year and was having crazy vivid dreams about a wounded king and a magical cup on top of everything else. His memories as Percival surged back full force when he finally became an SCA knight a few months later -- his sponsoring knight, in disbelief that he hadn't yet, made him read the Arthurian cycle while he sat vigil and it was all over but the weeping and laughing. This kept up through the knighting itself; everyone thought he was just overwhelmed, which he was, but not by the ceremony.
He's still in New York City, doing construction work and playing knight on the weekend while he assimilates actually being a knight for reals.
» Personality: Chance is a nice guy, if a little obtuse. He comes across as the perpetual fish out of water, due no doubt to his sheltered upbringing. A diehard neophile, he will try new things because he can. He's a good soul, friendly and sociable, but he really doesn't care what people think of him. This isn't snobbery on his part -- it's more that peoples' opinions simply don't register on his personal radar. People in general don't tend to register on his radar unless they deliberately catch his attention. He's not so much driven as goal-oriented; not so much ambitious as he doesn't know that he can't do a thing he wants to do (like the old joke about one defying the law of gravity because one never studied law). Set something in front of him that he wants to achieve, and he will single-mindedly pursue it with every fiber of his being and using any means at his disposal to get it, short of lying or stealing.
The boy doesn't have a duplicitous or dishonest bone in his body -- he couldn't lie if his life depended on it. He's not rebellious, though some may think he is. In truth, he is actually quite obedient, once you get his attention and explain the rules to him. He doesn't do things out of malice or spite; he just does what he does because he doesn't know any better. Chance has that kind of naive wisdom that comes from having an unconditional faith in humanity (here naive = unsullied and non-cynical) -- he still has that, amazingly enough, despite the life lessons he's learned on his travels, that people sometimes don't mean what they say and will hurt you to get what they want.
The naivety cuts both ways, too (here naive = ignorant and lacking practical experience). He's painfully gullible, and is burdened with an overactive imagination that leans towards catastrophic thinking; if you're late for a date, for example, he will come up with all manner of wild over the top negative scenarios as to why (and be incredibly relieved and grateful and attentive when you do show up). He has no inhibitions, is far too impetuous, and suffers from the attention span of a goldfish.
Chance is the opposite of a stick-jock; relentlessly polite and chivalrous to everyone even outside the SCA, he especially respects women and treats each one like a lady.
» Other Notes: Straight as a laser beam, not at all averse to female companionship of any variety, though it sometimes takes a cluebat upside the head to get his attention.
Known in the SCA as Alun the Wanderer.
» Sample Journal:
Fighter practice tonight was great! I got some good work in with the new shield and even rung Duke Ranulf's bell with a surprise snap. I was really pleased how well I fought. I should be ready for Crown in no time, as long as I find someone to fight for.
Tomorrow after work I'm going over to Alaric's to do some more sword practice. We've got that live-steel demo coming up at the Cloisters and I want to be in it!
» Sample Log:
"Hey baby. Looking good."
Chance had been about to take a bite out of his sandwich when the catcalling started. He looked over at the other two construction workers, who had their eyes glued to a woman who was walking by on the street. "Dude," he said to the closest one. "Don't do that. It's not nice."
The man looked at him. "What?"
"I said it's not nice to do that."
The two men laughed. "Yeah, right," the first one smirked. "What are you gonna do about it?"
As soon as they turned their attention back to the woman, a large bolt flew out of nowhere and hit the first man on the side of his hardhat. "What the hell!" he yelled, and they both glared at Chance as they started to get up.
The look on Chance's face made them pause. "Don't. Do that."
"Alright alright, geez." They settled down to their lunches, keeping half an eye on him.
Satisfied, Chance looked at the woman as she hurried past. "Sorry, miss," he shrugged with a smile. She gave him a glance before disappearing into the crowd. Still smiling, he bit into his sandwich.
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