Fandom Attack on Titan: Birds of Paradise | Character Thread

[The Prophet]

Coder: Ambiloquous

NAME:

Siegfried Jean-Lorraine

GENDER:

Male

AGE:

18

ORIGIN:

Born in Orvud District

Birthday:

December 25th

PERSONA:

If one were to describe Siegfried in one word, it would be scholarly. Learning his behaviorisms from his parents, Siegfried is the nigh spitting image of his mother. His free time is taken up by academic books and medical papers, he takes any opportunity to learn whatever he deems worthwhile, and avoids anything he deems unsavory or unproductive. While his lifestyle so far could be seen as socially defunct or simply boring, it can't be denied that it made Siegfried a better individual.



Siegfried might be effective and efficient, but emotionally and socially he's nothing but a hindrance. His limited exposure has led to a situation where his manner of speech comes out subconsciously abrasive or curt, and regards others with a degree of apathy. He's more likely to state methods of chemically ending your depression then offer a hug and words of encouragement Emotionally, Siegfried is largely absent. Despite his efforts, It's not just difficult to portray the proper emotion, but he struggles to properly identify the correct emotion to exhibit during an event. Often if it's deemed required to display an emotion, he will study those around him to crudely emulate.



Likes:

• Psychology
• Human/Titan biology
• Toxicology
• Research
• Medical practice

Dislikes:

• Unproductivity
• People who do unhealthy things
• His personality
• Unsanitary environments
• Hero-types

Quirk:

• Doesn't actually need glasses; wears them because his father did.
• Messes with his glasses when forming a plan or thinking of a procedure.
• Like his mother, He smiles when he's reached a level of annoyance he can't endure.

BIO:

Siegfried was born in Orvud district, on December 25th. His father was an ex-member of the military police, well known and respected for his kindness and sense of justice. His mother was a genius doctor, skilled in just about any medical field one could imagine. His mother worked in Orvud General Hospital, where his mother was a minor celebrity for her ability. It was here that Siegfried spent nearly all of his time; sitting in a plush chair, inside a sterile office, reading his mother's books off the shelf while his mother stoically gave a diagnosis.



His mother suffered from sociopathy and was largely absent of emotion, but one thing she was strangely insistent about was that her son was by her side at all times. Perhaps it was her way of showing him love, or just their way of making sure he didn't cause trouble or felt neglected. Regardless, Siegfried followed in his mother's footsteps. Before long, Siegfried had memorized every instrument, a wide array of procedures, and extensive terminology. Like his mother, one of his few interests was the medical field. There were so many fields of study, yet all of them were incredibly important and sure to play a crucial role in the evolution of humanity and civilization. Quite simply, Siegfried was fascinated.



Growing up, Siegfried became became ever more infatuated with the scientific and medical field that he began to aid his mother despite his young age. He did not have his mother's experience, but he did have a natural gift for it, and helped where he was able.



Siegfried was 15 when the hospital received a new patient. A member of the Survey Corp, due for several surgeries and many more medications if he was able to endure the former. Siegfried was plain with the man; he was going to die. Strangely, it didn't seem to affect him. Instead, the man talked on and on about the "good memories" and how he was glad he was able to do good in this world. This confused Siegfried; when a patient was typically told of their dwindling life expectancy, they reacted with much more primal reactions. Crying, panicking, terror, anger....yet the man before him was simply content.



The man didn't make it through the next morning.



The burning question of why that man was so ready to sacrifice his life for a cause that did not mourn him ate at Siegfried. The man had no visitors, earned no medals, recieved no money for the act; all he did was distract a Titan so that his squad could escape. He spoke of a soldiers duty and selflessness, but it was so illogical, so outlandish to give one's life in vain. In the end, it changed nothing and a man was dead. Why were they so willing to die? Why be a hero? Why? Why?? Why??? He asked his parents, and their answers were unsatisfactory or simply unknowing. The answers eluded him long enough that he decided that he would enlist. Perhaps he would receive a satisfactory answer there.



Affiliation(s):

104th Training Corp (Present)
Orvud General Hospital (Formerly)

EXTRA:

Siegfried is ambidextrous.

 

[KaramelKarma]

ALFRED THORNE

"ALFIE"

MALE

26

HETERO

BRITISH

SCOUTS

EHRMICH DISTRICT

virtues

ingenious

eccentric

enthusiastic

inquisitive

engaging

versatile

vices

troubled

unfocused

escapist

stubborn

scattered

anxious

workaholic

backstory

Alfie never knew his parents. No amount of fanciful stories, wishful reimaginings or dreams would bring them back to give their young boy what he would forever lack in their absence: a sense of identity. "Thorn in my side," the tight-lipped, scowling orphanage headmistress would often retort. It was true; endless curiousity was often mistaken for insolence and a gifted mind was often mistaken for vanity. In the slums of Ehrmich, deep within the heart of the factory mining district where smoke clogged the throat and soot bled into everyday clothing, such qualities were of little use.
No, it did not matter that at two years of age, Alfie could read the signs off the market windows. It did not matter that for his seventh birthday, he was able to craft his very own toy hot air balloon as a gift for himself. Then, at the age of ten, he had managed to gather enough scrap to fashion a signal flare, in honor and adoration of the Scout Regiment. Then a year later, at the age of eleven, he left it all behind, sold off to a factory overseer to work in the iceburst stone mines.

There's no point in trying to sugarcoat the bitter obvious; life down there was brutal. It was the kind of hell that stayed trapped within; in your throat, in your lungs, under your fingernails. The factory master was a cheap bastard; candles were made to fit workers' hats and off they went to dig, with nothing but the flame of a single candle to guide them in the sub-zero caverns. It robbed a boy of his childhood, but not of his spirit, or his mind. With what little he earned, Alfie continued to expand his knowledge in any way, shape or form. In his free time, he collected and vigorously studied books, maps, old, moth-eaten weapons factory blueprints and scrap. In the darkness of those caves, Alfie's intelligence shone like bits of iceburst stone embedded in the rock. He especially loved learning all there was to know on the nature, behaviour and origins of Titans. This yearning to understand rather than to hate, as well as his ambition to someday become a Scout to live and die a "hero" earned Alfie a slew of mockery from fellow miners, especially from the factory overseer. "You were born from dirt and you'll die in dirt, boy. Give up on your dreams and DIG!"

And dig he did. Three years crawled by and as he grew, so did the dirt cheapness and negligence of the corrupt overseer. Conditions worsened; concern for the safety of the workers was at an all time low. As it often happens with tragedies, it all culminated to a single day: the lower level factory containment system in which the mined iceburst stone were kept before being transformed into gas and put in cannisters malfunctioned. One by one, the machinery pieces began to break apart as the stones began to prematurely vaporise into exploding gas. Ever the quick thinker, Alfie took it upon himself to try and fix it, buying time for the rest of the miners to evacuate.
Seven minutes was all he could afford to give them. Seven precious minutes, and in that time, Alfie had managed to save nearly two-thirds of the entire squadron.

But still, death couldn't help himself. It was said that the explosion could be heard from a mile or more. Death had taken the lives of twenty, leaving Alfie as the sole survivor. He was pulled from the debris, ugly, weeping strips of third degree burns gnarled all across his body. Frankly, he wasn't expected to last the night. But like a stubborn burr on cloth or a thorn in one's side, Alfie clung to life. Days turned to weeks, which turned to months. Finally, just a short while after his fifteenth birthday, he was well enough to warrant a visit from one of the most wealthy and influential men of the three Walls: Dietrich Hildebrand.

Within the span of an hour, Alfred was handed nearly all that he had craved for so long. With a modest bag of money exchanged and a few whispered words, he could walk away from the hospital bed a free young man, with a guaranteed prestigious weapons-manufacturing apprenticeship in Hildebrand's own Sinian factories under his belt.
It seemed that fortune finally had decided to smile upon Alfie, showering him with blessings and opportunity few would ever see in their lifetime. A comfortable life. A secure life, an easy life, free from hardship, all handed to him on a silver platter.

So why?

Why deny it, why leave such a position after only two years?

Rest assured, Alfie had his reasons, though some would say its better to call them utter delusions. Nevertheless, the decision was made. At the age of seventeen, with Hildebrand's blessing, Alfie joined the military. At twenty, he graduated and became a Scout, spending the next few years earning his stripes, no matter how frustratingly oddball or jagged they turned out to be. His intelligence and tactical skill singled him out just as much as the burn marks did. What's more, as his reputation grew (as did the rumours and jokes - one even going so far as to say that a rock hit him wrong on the head during the mining incident), so did his unconventional opinions, appreciation and intellectual curiousity for Titans. All in all, despite the many deaths and bloodshed he witnessed, Alfie wears the wings of the Scout Regiment with a sort of vigor rarely seen in senior Scouts. After all, there's nothing like a good death wish to make you feel more alive!

— ALFIE'S THEME

nine lives