User Profile

Name: Ashlea Haupt
Age: 19
Social Class: Noble
Birthday: August 9th
Blood Type: AB
Family: Conrad Haupt - father, Eleesa Haupt - mother.
Preferred Element: Fire

Ashlea's father is a younger son of a younger son, so far removed from lines of inheritance that he might as well be hardly a noble at all. Ashlea, as a result, grew up with a profound envy for his "peers," always the first child to act the snoot, and the last child to admit his father's name. All his life, Ashlea was ambitious, preferring the company of the children of the most esteemed, and constantly belittled by his chosen companions for his scant heritage. He did well with his tutors and lessons, but no matter what his knowledge, he found himself unable to put aside the fact that he'd be expected of little, and given little to manage. Upon expressing any such regrets, he was usually given a sound box to the ears and told to imagine the place of a farmer's son, or a street child, but such words lent little results. Allowed to look upon greatness, he felt, his inability to attain it seemed all the more painful than had he never held sight of it.

For ninteen years of his life, he felt nothing but disdain and disgust with everything he saw. His clothes were bland, his family bland, his life unimportant and would be forgotten no sooner than a handful of years after breath left his body. Some times he felt he could burst for all the untapped potential and wonder the world should have been able to hold, yet it deigned to grant him no more than mediocrity. Ashlea's testing held profound joy for him, the most happiness he could recall feeling in his life. No longer was he bound to the paltry deeds of his forefathers, expected to inherit scant lands and few riches, his fortune was his finally his own, and he intends most of all to prove his worthiness to the world.

Following the end of the term at Everthorne, Ashlea has spent his time trying to make himself useful to more senior mages. He's been an incurable suck-up, and tried to take on as much extra work as he could manage. While has has not intentionally distanced himself from his classmates, he has certainly not sought them out. There wasn't so much love lost in any manner, he figures. He simply decided there was no reason to remain around people who likely wanted to see no more of him than they had to, and it really wasn't like any of them would be anything other than competition.

Ashlea feels that his magic is merely what he deserves, and that these 19 years of waiting were ridiculous and unnecessary. He feels he's always been destined for something great, and he absolutely knows that he stands on the cusp of it. He's no little bit arrogant, and even unnotable as his father's name might be, he sees himself as something far greater than the common riff-raff. He can be charming when he desires it, primarily with the most influencial of people, be they teachers or compatriots, but he finds it hard to hide his disdain of what he considers less than him - most of all, his previously bland life, and the bland people that comprised it. He has a temper that turns to bitter iciness when it flares, one that he quiets quickly for fear of wasting what chances and opinions he might get, but he never forgets even what are most likely imagined slights.

His greatest fear is that he will pass from this world leaving nothing but a corpse to feed the grass. Ugly, dull grass at that.

Ashlea is tall but quite thin, with extremely pale skin and darkish ashen-brown hair. He almost always wears the most impressive clothes he owns, trying as always to pretend he is what he thinks he deserves, and that which he is not. He's pretty, rather than handsome, but tries not to scorn any outward indications that set him apart from the ordinary he so despises.