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 Mustafa Al-Nar

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Mustafa Al-Nar

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Posts : 9
Join date : 2018-05-31
Age : 26

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PostSubject: Mustafa Al-Nar   Thu May 31, 2018 9:12 pm

[WIP]

Name: Mustafa al-Nar
Age: 25
Birthday: August 18, 1992
Sex: Male
Sexuality: Straight
Mythological Origin: Hephaestus
Mythological Powers/Gifts:
• Enhanced Strength - Your character's muscles have the ability to project an enormous amount of strength greater than any mortal.
• Enhanced Stamina - Your character can endure great physical trials without tiring as easily as others.
• Fire Control - You are immune to all fire. You can control flames of all sizes.
• Techne - You are a supreme inventor/forge smith capable of making useful inventions that are prone to breaking after one use. Use caution with this and remember to ask the admins if you want to avoid rewriting posts.
Legendary Items:
• None...yet


Looks



Face Claim: Oded Fehr
Eyes: Green
Hair: Dark Brown - kept long, and a goatee
Height: 6'6"
General Appearance: Broad shouldered and imposing, Mustafa towers over most. His face has an almost permanent scowl affixed upon it. His gruff nature and god-given height tend to get him in trouble, as combined they generally give off the impression that he has a strong dislike for everyone he meets (an unfair impression, his disdain is not generally earned until the individual has begun to speak).

Personality
Mustafa is blunt and lacking in social grace. He does not speak overly often, and when he does, the words are direct in meaning and selected with care to address his point (though not often polite). He dislikes the charitable and the naive, as they remind him of a happier time of his life that cannot be recovered. Though he does not care much of what others speak of him, he is immensely proud of his work and those who struggle to change. Woe be the individual who insults his craftsmanship. Mustafa's grudges are usually brief and explosive. Should one evoke his wrath, they tend to need only survive the initial outburst before he loses interest. He often loses himself in his work when something has truly caught his attention or imagination, and will generally shun speaking company during such times.

General Character Traits
Likes: Roasted meat - especially lamb, Cold nights with clear skies, those he sees as investing in the future, Wrestling, Crackling fires (something he found surprisingly calming as he adapted to his dreams).
Dislikes: Naivety, Theological and political preachers, Lions (obvious reason), Vegetarians (Never was Farah more annoying than her brief stint as a vegetarian)
Strengths: Apart from his own physical prowess, Mustafa's mechanical ingenuity has gotten him out of several bad situation before. His focus is intense and with time, he can accomplish almost anything he sets his mind to. He is also a surprisingly skilled dancer (Farah's influence), though he has not had cause to dance for some time. He also has a mild knack for languages, speaking his native Arabic, English, French, and is able to work out some Russian.
Weaknesses: Though his temperament is always disgruntled, when his temper is truly set off, it rages like an all consuming blaze. Mustafa has difficulty connecting with others having lost his family to zealotry and recently being the sole cause of the destruction of his latest batch of brothers (something he is still struggling to grasp). His focus, often his prized strength, can also slip when in stressful situations as he has flashbacks to his nightmares and may cause him to revert back to his shut down state.

Personal History
Mother: Karyme al-Nar (deceased)
Father:   Zaid al-Nar (believed alive)
Siblings:
Zeinab al-Nar (sister - believed alive)
Nahla al-Nar (deceased sister)
Farah al-Nar (deceased sister)


Background Story

Mustafa's story is a downward slope, starting at peak and progressively increasing loss and turmoil. Born of Karyme al-Nar in Syria, Mustafa was the supposed fourth child of Zaid al-Nar. His father was overjoyed at his arrival, as the first and only son.  His childhood was, as a whole, a happy one. Mustafa exhibited great intelligence and applied himself thoroughly in school. He excelled quite readily, and even skipped a year early on. Despite this, Mustafa never felt out of place amongst his older classmates. He had grown quickly, which helped alleviate shift, and led him to success in his sports of choice, wrestling and football. His home life was pleasant, his father working as a project coordinator with the government, having assisted the government in the grand expanding the irrigation systems allowing self-sufficiency in agriculture. He was rarely home, as the projects needed constant surveillance and expansion. So Mustafa grew up doted upon by both his elder sisters and mother alike.  Thus was his early life spent in both classroom and field, as he shot tore through his studies successfully all the way through high school.

Having completed his basic and secondary education, Mustafa attended college and graduated with a degree in chemistry. However, as he exited the educational bubble in 2014, things had taken a decided turn for the worse. He had worked his way through college, his father having shifted away from public projects to private as the younger Assad ascended to his position in 2007. Zaid made much less money working for individuals than the government, but felt he was able to get more in touch with the local community as the government had completed its wide-sweeping projects of general wellbeing for the country. It became apparent to Mustafa that all was not well in the country as he returned home from his ivory tower. Everything truly came to a head in 2009, when his family was driven from their home by the arrival of ISIL. As his father had worked for the previous Assad regime, despite alienating himself from the younger Assad's government, his family did not share the communities marked rise in zealotry. They moved north, and soon became accustomed to moving often, the zealots fervor chasing them wherever they roamed.

At last, in 2011, the madness caught up to them. One evening, while at home in apartments in Damascus half of Mustafa's family was ripped away from him in a single fiery blast. The complex exploded as the Arab demonstration was gathering for its next march, a premature detonation originating from the apartment below, which housed a sleeper cell of ISIL. Zaid and Zeinab were not at home, having gone out to attend to a matter earlier that day, they were late in their return saving their lives. Mustafa's survival was explained by his having been positioned close to a window, and the shockwave hitting him and knocking him free before the burst of fiery doom following the explosion. It simply wasn't true. Mustafa certainly had felt the shockwave, but it was not large enough to knock him away from the apartment. He had turned, ears ringing to face his sisters and mother who had stumbled from the initial soundblast, and watched as his life turned to ash. As if in slow motion, fire burst through the floor, enveloped his family, even as he struggled to step forward against the disorientation of concussion, he watched the flesh melt off Farah's bones. He watched Nahla get consumed, flailing like a ragdoll, her limp corpse flung by the force of the explosion. He watched his mother look at him one last time, and offer one last smile as she accepted her fate, and realized he wasn't burning.  The flames simply washed over him, he watched the roar rush forward and threatened to consume him, but felt no worse than the hot desert breeze on a summer day. It was after that wave of fire that he was flung back to the wall, where he sat dazed as the building collapsed around him. Once he awoke among the ashes, he had struggled and managed to claw his way out into a hellish scene. The reality too much, he simply shut down, falling into a deep sleep as he failed to process what had truly happened.

His dreams were haunted by his deceased family, and the apparition of a golden lion, feasting upon their corpses while he did nothing. He swung in and out of consciousness for about a week before finally being grounded enough to awaken in the field hospital bed. His father had recovered him and they had moved as far away from Damascus as possible, as far north as his father's savings could bring them. It took a full year for Mustafa to grasp reality once again. During which his nightmares continued, only with the addition of fire, which did not frighten him, but rather danced around him, and towards the end, Mustafa had learned to direct and control within.

Having recovered enough to finally leave the hospital bed, he discovered what he had missed. The area they now lived in, Rojava, had managed to garner its independence from both the Assad regime and ISIL, having had independent and confederate militia stand up and force both back. His sister Zeinab was a member of YPJ militia, an all female force formed in foil to male YPG, an answer to women who wanted to strike back at those who sought to once more enslave them. His father had begun working for the acting government, specifically as a sub-minister of Mansur Selum. Wanting to lose himself in work, he signed up to join the YPG, and went through their training processes. He spent his time following as both soldier and supplier, assisting in demolitions, which he proved to have a knack for. However, during this time, his apparition began to manifest more fully. Often, when working with his squad on patrol, he would catch sight of the golden lion stalking him, jaws bloodied on those it had feasted upon prior. And always would it end in disaster. It got to the point where Mustafa set traps to ensnare this lion, telling no one, with mixed results. While they never stopped the beast, once or twice, they did provide advance warning to his squadron, enough that they managed to scrape by with minimal casualties from the disastrous situations they found themselves in.

It all came to a head less than a week ago. His squad dispatched to strike a hideout where an ISIL leader was rumored to have set up shop. His visions having seemingly stopped, for he had not seen the lion for a number of months, suddenly returned one crucial night behind enemy lines. The lion, which for so long had seemed completely content of merely stalking him, charged him as he was on watch. Mustafa used his weaponry to no effect, rousing his squad in panic, and simultaneously alerting the enemy combatants to their position. Within minutes, the squad was routed by the outnumbering and still gathering troops. The troop broke, morale crushed by the onslaught. They fled every which way, as Mustafa set a charge and used it on the lion who had appeared once more to hunt him down. The blast did little, but it did distract the would be captors enough to let him slip away, and while the fire seemed to have no effect, the force had managed to stun the beast momentarily, a feat his bullets had failed to induce.  Mustafa joined his brothers as they scattered to the winds, his feet flying as the lion recovered and gave chase. He lost himself in the run, unsure of how long he fled, knowing only that to be caught would be death. Multiple times in the chase, he emptied his clip into the lion, bullets glancing off as if the hide were of most solid steel. Thrice more did he use impromptu incendiary devices to knock the lion back, only to have it recover shortly after as Mustafa panted for breath. Eventually, he could take it no longer, and he collapsed forward, certain that now, at last, he would finally die, only to have his head meet solid bronze metal with a heavy clang. An absurdly large gate, with the lion so close behind, Mustafa summoned what remained of his strength, stumbled inside, and collapsed as the heavy gates slammed shut behind him. With that, darkness returned, and with it, the fire, though the lion was present no more.

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Last edited by Mustafa Al-Nar on Sat Jun 02, 2018 11:25 am; edited 1 time in total
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PostSubject: Re: Mustafa Al-Nar   Thu May 31, 2018 9:58 pm

Approved.
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