Bracken Styrax
Race: Satyr
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Element: 
Residence: Wayward Woods (wherever he can crash)
Alignment: Low Chaos
Occupation: N/A
Height: 6'1'' / 185.42 cm
Weight: 189.5 lbs / 85.95 kg
Figure/Build: Tall, athletic build, bottom half of a goat - y'know, the usual
Hair: His hair is naturally black, but he thinks dying the mohawk part white makes him look cool and trendy (VERY important if you're going to be spending any significant time in Centaur City). The hair around the 'hawk isn't shaved, but he keeps it very short. His sideburns connect down to his scruffy beard. His fur is also black, matching his dark hair.
Eyes: Gold, with an ever-present devious glint about them
Skin: Dark, tanned skin. He has a few piercings in his right ear, and one in his left ear. He also has two piercings on his right eyebrow.
Satyrs, as a Liminal race living in their own communities in the Wayward Woods, don't have the same sort of nudity taboos as the more humanoid races. As such, Bracken prefers the 'natural' look - that is to say, naked. While this is pretty normal in Centaur City (though most centaurs do cloth their top halves and occasionally wear robes and drapes over the bottom, though this is more because clothes can be stylish and trendy than for modesty reasons), it does not go over quite as well in Faeland. When he gets complaints he tends to make excuses about it being difficult to find pants that fit him - however, this is a bold-faced lie. There are numerous clothing stores in Centaur City that cater specifically to Liminal races, and naturally that includes pants for both satyrs and fauns. That aside, there's no reason he can't wear a shirt, which is an issue he tends to handwave if brought up. The truth is that Bracken is extremely narcissistic and proud of his body, and thinks presenting himself so brazenly is the best way to charm the pretty ladies and gents into inviting him back to their place to spend the night (you know, for free). In actuality his success-to-failure rate is roughly 50/50, and he may actually be more likely to succeed if he put some trendy clothes on...
(fortunately, thanks to the magic of Artistic License + conveniently-placed fur, Bracken and other 'nude' Liminals remain safe-for-work)
General Temperament: Upbeat and snarky. Likes to flirt and tease people, but generally means well, and is rarely ever angry.
Personality: Bracken is a capricious prankster...though his idea of what's innocent and funny tends to 'cross the line', according to other people. Like when someone gets injured, it's apparently not as hilariously funny as it is to Bracken...he doesn't really understand that. Worth nothing, however, that he never means to hurt people with his pranks - he just has a tendency to be a little tactless and not think these things through, which is perhaps not surprising for a Galerider. Then again, if given the choice between Bracken's pranks and being targeted by the even more morally-questionable Pixies or Piskis, chances are the people of Faeland and Centaur City would gladly choose the former.
Bracken is the embodiment of the Wind element, living life for himself and taking things day by day without really planning ahead. Though his self-preservation instincts take priority, he's not a bad guy and will try to help others as long as their interests don't conflict with his own. When someone wanders into the Wayward Woods and invariably becomes lost, Bracken will try to guide them back out to safety if they happen to cross his path. Sure, their wallets may be missing, but what matters is that they're alive and they didn't get devoured by Wayward Wolves, right...?
Bracken is incredibly self-centered and essentially thinks, "hey, if I think I'm so great, everyone else must think so too!!" This perception has been known to get him into loads of trouble, often thinking he'll get a free pass to cause mischief or get off easy when it comes to punishment. This is almost never the case. However, there is a grain of truth behind his overconfidence - Bracken is extremely charismatic, and many who have believed themselves to be 'above' their base instincts have found themselves bewitched by his charms against all common sense. Even when much of his repertoire consists of corny one-liners and lame pickup lines, there's something in the way he delivers them with that shit-eating grin confident smile of his that makes him irresistible.
Like most satyrs, Bracken is pansexual and does not have a particular preference with regard to his evening companions. He's also extremely promiscuous and has an insatiable libido...though in his defense, this is not a rare trait among satyrs. Despite his tendency to come on...very strong at first, however, Bracken is pretty good at reading the mood when it comes to romantic interaction. If it becomes clear that the other party does not reciprocate his affections, he'll kindly bow out and respect their personal space...though that probably won't stop him from trying again a few days later to see if they've changed their mind. He can be annoyingly persistent, but ultimately respects consent and tries to dispel that nasty reputation that satyrs (and even centaurs) sometimes have.
Bracken has another reason for trying to bed every willing person he encounters beyond lust, however. Certain alleged 'theft incidents' have lead to him being banned from numerous inns and hotels in both Faeland and Centaur City. The debts accrued from these alleged 'theft incidents' have also left him dirt poor (which is probably the real reason he can't afford nice clothes, honestly). Since the Wayward Woods is a huge place, villages and communities outside these two major hubs are scattered by great distances, and there are no safe roads connecting them. This essentially leaves Bracken with two options - find someone willing to let him show them a good time and then crash in their bed free of charge, or spend another night camping out and fending off the mosquitoes...not to mention the hungry Wayward Wolves.
In any case, for a time, he had managed to get by renting a room at a nearby hotel, saving enough money to cover half of his bill and using his masculine wiles to...convince the hotel staff to look the other way, insisting he was 'good for it' and would pay them at a later date. Naturally, that later date never came, and after several months of him getting away with this behavior, the staff finally caught onto his game. He did attempt to pull this same con at a few different hotels, but word must have quickly spread through the hotel management grapevine, or something, because he was eventually banned from renting a room outright across the whole city, and become branded as an 'unsavory character'. He briefly considered the possibility of getting a good job and becoming a productive member of society so he could afford to get another apartment...but he had gotten so used to freeloading at this point that his reaction to that lifestyle was a simple 'nah'.
Packing up what few material belongings he hadn't pawned for a quick kok, Bracken decided to make the trek over to the nearby Faeland and see if he would have any more luck there. Though the fairies themselves were a small people, their buildings were generally made to accommodate a number of races due to it being another major 'hub' location of the Wayward Woods. Still, while Bracken was able to technically fit in (the doorways), he found that he didn't quite 'fit in' culturally with the more rural sensibilities of Faeland. He was used to the modern and heavily-urban environment of Centaur City, where you couldn't see so much as a single tree for miles outside the city border (centaurs apparently had some kind of age-old fear of trees; Bracken admittedly never questioned it too much, it was simply what he was used to). Faeland had none of the commodities he was so accustomed to - no ATMs on the street corners, no CentaurNet cafes, and their TVs only got about 10 channels!! That, and there was just...banjo music. Banjo music everywhere. It was a strange place for a city boy like him...but it was still better than sleeping alone in the woods, Bracken decided. Plus, he seemed to be pretty popular among the old fairy ladies at the market stalls who giggled and whispered about how handsome he was whenever he came by, and was able to score a lot of free food just by tossing them a smile and a wink. He thought he could learn to like the banjo in time, because getting stuff for free was great!!
After a few weeks in Faeland, however, the novelty of having a handsome young satyr around must have worn off. The freebies stopped coming. The banjo music was no more tolerable, either. And while he had enjoyed the company of some lovely young fae lasses, they weren't so...understanding compared to the city girls. Suddenly he was a 'jerk' for not calling them back, and a 'deadbeat' because he had no intentions of courting them properly, to say nothing of the sudden cries of...MARRIAGE?! Did people around here not like recreational sex, or something?! Before Bracken knew it, he had about 10 young girls (and a few boys) chasing after him, shouting things like 'what's the meaning of this?!' and 'who is she?!' and 'what do you mean it wasn't big enough?!' at him in shrill voices!! Then it was their parents, accusing him of leading their children on with false promises of a future, even though he'd never implied such a thing to any of them!! Before he knew it, Bracken was blacklisted from practically every establishment in Faeland for being 'a dangerous lecher'!! His head was spinning - why had such a thing happened? Bracken never had any intention of 'courting' these people, but somehow they had all gotten the wrong impression...it seemed that the quaint Faeland lifestyle was even more different than he realized. Now, whenever he showed his face in town, he was met with disgusted glares and had doors slammed in his face. The nice old ladies that used to give him freebies would now throw their fresh fruits and vegetables at him when he walked past. And the banjo music was still no more tolerable. It was looking like Faeland wasn't the place for him to be, after all.
Without any stable place left to go (and without the cash to rent an actual stable in Centaur City), Bracken took to wandering the Wayward Woods and bedding down wherever he could. Occasionally he'd come across a small village and stay a night or two - just briefly enough not to push his luck too far - before moving on his way. Most often, however, he was relegated to camping out in the depths of the forest with nothing but a simple hide tent, a book of matches, and that sweet crossbow he had managed to buy just before everyone in Faeland turned against him. It was a drunken impulse buy - he had never 'roughed it' in the woods before - but it was the first time in his life that he was so thankful for trusting his oft-misguided gut instincts. Bracken learned to hunt with his new weapon, which kept him fed. The creeks and streams that flowed throughout the Woods kept his thirst sated. His tent kept him warm and dry. He was surviving well enough...but he didn't feel like he was really living just carrying on day to day like this. He hungered for some kind of excitement...but with his handsome face the subject of various 'warning' posters plastered about the two major cities, what could he hope to do for fun?
And that's when Bracken began to take up 'casual thievery' as a hobby. Well, at first, it really was because he needed supplies...he couldn't build a fire the 'old-fashioned way' no matter how he tried, so he needed to keep a supply of matches handy. His crossbow didn't run on infinite bolts, either - plus it had become cumbersome lugging it all around everywhere he went, so he at least wanted to get a decent backpack or something. So, under the cover of night, he returned to Faeland and snuck into the general goods store while the owners slept...and carefully, he managed to snag the goods he needed and get out without being noticed. At first he thought his heart was just pounding because he was so nervous, but he quickly came to realize it was the sheer thrill of sneaking around and not getting caught. He became addicted to that sensation - plus, it was a Hell of a lot easier to get supplies this way than walking into town during the daylight and hoping he didn't get konked with an apple to the head for his troubles.
From that point on, Bracken began combining his charms with slight of hand - pickpocketing keys while chatting up a pretty young thing, for instance, meant not having to fuss with noisily picking locks in the stillness of the night. Snagging the wallets from the dresser of a one-night stand in one village meant having enough money to pay for a hot meal in another. After enough time went by he was even able to show his face in Faeland again without getting barraged by tomatoes, and though the dirty looks and distrust continued, he was usually able to flash some cash and at least grab a flagon of mead or something.
In any case, the lifestyle's not quite as glamorous as he paints it as being when he spins his charming 'wilderness tales' to the gullible bar patrons in the city...but it's not so bad after all. Bracken manages to get by as a wanderer - drinking from the stream, bathing in the falls, eating berries and fruits fresh from the trees, hunting and cooking his own game, sleeping with a mossy rock as a pillow. It's fine. It's just as nature intended. It's...totally...fine...it's totally great. Definitely beats waking up in a nice warm bed, next to a nice warm body, and eating a nice warm breakfast...
Definitely......
Skills: Does 'good in bed' count? What about 'good at outrunning and avoiding the pursuit of angry townspeople'? No? Well, he's pretty good at 'sleight of hand' - that's fancytalk for pickpocketing.
Bracken also has a natural charisma and charm that tends to make anyone fall for him at first sight...the downside is this effect wears off pretty quickly once they get to know him, or he ruins it by doing something stupid. Which happens a lot. But it usually does the job in getting him free food, drinks, and company for the night, at least. So it's highly effective, but also highly temporary.
In general, he's an excellent jumper and climber. He's gotten plenty of practice running away from angry townspeople to where he's become pretty competent at parkour. On the other hand, he's a bit scared of heights...his tendency to act without thinking things through has lead him to scaling sheer cliffs only to realize he hasn't a safe means of getting back down after. He's also jumped off his fair share off cliffs without properly gauging the distance of the fall...fortunately, satyrs are built sturdy, or he'd probably be dead by now. He may not really have a handle on the whole 'wind riding' thing, but he CAN jump quite high and far when he needs to.
Weaknesses: Attractive people. Alcohol. Attractive people drinking alcohol. Alcohol being drunk by attractive people. Honestly you can pretty much just buy him a beer and get him a hot date for the night and he'll pretty much be your best friend. He has no particular loyalties and is pretty easy to sway if you appeal to his baser needs.
He's also weak to competition. If someone manages to best him at a thing, he will stop at nothing to get better at the thing until he can beat them at the thing. If someone actually told him 'Bracken I can crunch numbers at my office job better than you', he might even go out and become a respectable member of society just to prove them wrong.
Weapon/Combat Power of Choice: He's gotten to be pretty handy with his crossbow, and uses his Wind element to enchant his bolts. Beyond that, he almost never makes use of this ability and can't even Galeride reliably (can you imagine a flying goat? ...wait). The most he might do is use his wind to blow sand in your face and distract you so he can run away, but...pretty much anyone can do that.
His favorite 'technique' (if you can call it that) is his patented Flying Goat Kick, which consists of him...basically just jumping into the air and delivering a flying kick with his powerful goat legs. Guaranteed to knock the wind out of you and give him a chance to run away, if nothing else. If given the choice between fighting and running, he will always choose to run unless he has a very good reason to stand his ground. He CAN actually put up a decent fight if he's fighting seriously, but that's rare.
Bracken hates magic. He'll tell you he has a good reason for it, but refuse to tell you what that reason is. Most likely, he's still bitter about the whole Faeland thing. In any case, his competitive nature may kick in if he's up against a mage, and cause him to go out of his way to try and prove that he's 'better' than their silly magic. With little more than a dinky crossbow on his side, this is very unlikely to work out well for him.
