Jian Ma character app

Full Name:Jian Ma
Age:27
Date of birth:03APR1996
Birthplace:Seoul,Korea
Current home:Bartonburg(Hogsmeade)
Blood Status:Halfblood
Sexual Alignment:Heterosexual
Wand type:Aged redwood, 7", semi flexible: has a slightly curved tip, has dragon heartstrings as a core


Hair colour and style:Hair color is jet black, style is always messy allowing it to always fall into his face
Eye colour:light brown, however now it is usually dark brown due to stress
Height:67 inches (5'7)
Body type:Slender
Dress sense: Victorian era'esque
Birthmarks: Slight skin blemish on his left arm near the wrist resembling a pine tree
Tattoos:N/A
Scars:Various healed over nicks and cuts along the fingers on both hands
Piercings:N/A





Likes: (3 minimum)
 Solitude - Throughout the years the young male has grown a costumed to being left alone to his own devices. This isn't to say he will not seek interaction with others, just that if given the choice he will choose isolation
  Dark arts- Due to events that have happened in his life Jian has made certain ceremonies, rituals, and spells his life mission of perfecting in order to carry out something that very well might not be possible.
 Writing - Spending his days writing stories for the local newspapers and small publications is how he used to earn a living. This has stuck with him through the years and is still a past time of his to relieve the growing pressures he has become faced with.

Dislikes: (3 minimum)
 Dark arts - Jian knows where this road leads, or where he's been told it leads and thus hates what he has become. He's constantly at odds with himself in this regard
  Complacency- Their is nothing more infuriating than those visited by slothfulness and not living their lives to the fullest while they are still here. He's learned that you should never take anything for granted albeit it might be too late.
 Magic - For his own reasons the very thing he uses daily is also the main source of his misery now. If he could he would no longer use it.

Strengths: (3 minimum)
  - Determination, Jian is willing and always ready to do whatever is needed to carry out the task at hand.
  - Calculated, sometimes it might seem that the things he does have no purpose, however for the most part everything he does is for a sole reason.
  -Indistinct, The male has learned to make himself less and less memorable as time has stretched on. He rarely does anything to overly show or under sale emotion or reactions.
-Necromancy, the study of the dead and all things surrounding the art Jian has made it his purpose to know. This is up to including the study of decomposition and body restructuring after death.
Weaknesses: (3 minimum)
  -Obsessed, once he has started a task no matter the moral ramifications Jian must see it through to the end.
  -Cold, At times he can come off as unwilling to incorporate himself into the fanfare of normal every day life. This is painfully obvious sometimes when speaking to others where his tone is mostly set to a neutral un-enthused pitch
  -Family, having lost his it has become a walking night terror for the male. He constantly sees his family wherever he goes aand is known to ramble on as if talking to them.

Positive traits: (3 minimum)
  - "There is nothing that is impossible" In the face of adversity there is never the words "it can't be done." Only how far you're willing to go to see it through.
  - Mirrored, When he's willing and when it benefits him Jian has been known to channel the same level of energy or excitement someone else is putting off. It helps hide his true nature from the world and stop him from being a complete shut out.
  -Morally grey, Jian is able to see every avenue where others simply see right and wrong. Sometimes good people do bad things for the right reasons, who are we to judge who is truly right?

Negative traits: (3 minimum)
  -Silent, unless it's on paper he doesn't speak much barely affording two to three sentences of conversation at times
  -Quick to temper, if something has utterly failed that  he has devoted his time to or a line of information has been cut he is known to go through fits of anger albeit in the confines of his own home.
  -Single minded, there is no such thing as the big picture, there is only the picture and it's very small with only enough room for his thoughts.


Jian stands at 5'7, approximately 160 pounds. He totes a slender frame, natural to his Asian descent. His hair, most times just as his mind is a disheveled mess of stringy black strands that fall where they may about down to his ears. He is known to also wear it slicked back should the occasion arise, or when he isn't completely engrossed with his work. Facial hair falls into a slightly more favorable category, preferring to always keep it cleanly shaven save for a mustache that he lets grow slightly only to agitate his wife as a joke. Ever since her death however he keeps it only as a memento to her and in his own weird way to honor her memory. There are times however that a five o'clock shadow will grow oddly. This shows the days that he hasn't left his study in some time. When out amongst other he sports slacks with a white button up shirt. He never strays from the shirt, preferring to wear different colored vests atop it, mainly pinstriped. The male will be seen mostly always carrying his overcoat draped over one hand instead of wearing it, this is strictly preference. There is always a small notebook that he carries in his back pants pocket and a small pocket watch with silver chain attached to his vests via clip. Jian's eye color is normally a very light brown but under stress or tired they dim to a dark brown. He walks with a firm back save for his shoulders that naturally bend inwards instead of aligned with his back as they should be. His right hand is both his writing and wand hand, his middle,index, and thumb are always in the form of holding a pen unless he consciously remembers to relax them. While in the comfort of his home he trades english clothing for his homelands traditional changshan and black cotton shoes.




Mother:
   Name:Chojuri Ma
   Age:55
   Living or Deceased: Living
   Blood type or Species:O positive/Halfblood
   Occupation:Retired teacher

Father:
   Name:Jia Ma
   Age:58
   Living or Deceased:Living
   Blood type or Species:AB positive/Pureblood
   Occupation:Retired teacher


Spouse:
   Name:Sajjal Varnham
   Age:29
   Living or Deceased:Deceased
   Blood type or Species:A mixture of varying blood types due to experimentation/Pureblood(Was b negative)
   Occupation:N/A

Children:
   Name:Avery Varnham
   Age:6
   Living or Deceased:Deceased
   Blood type or Species:Currently drained of all blood/halfblood(was o positive)
   Occupation:N/A

Children:
   Name:James Varnham
   Age:4
   Living or Deceased:Deceased
   Blood type or Species:o positive/halfblood



Jian Kai-an Ma was born to Chojuri Ma & Jia Ma in a small prefecture to which the name has become lost to him. Both parents worked as teachers, his father taught literature while his mother taught history. This is more than likely where Jian acquired his love for writing and detail. His parents take note of his aptitude at retaining information.They begin challenging and pushing him further using their connections with varying professors to gain books from foreign lands in secret to teach him of the outside world. During this time the area that they lived in was under a information black out of the outside world being found with anything other than what was approved carried stiff fines and sometimes imprisonment. This is around the time he began writing his first short stories as a hobby using random words from a dictionary and finding ways to add them into it. During the last three years of this time frame Jian begins to experience slight headaches from time to time when un-explainable things like books falling from tables happen.
During his teen years Jian makes a name for himself writing stories under multiple ghost names varying stories of realism and fantasy. His books quickly become cult sellers and flourish in varying fields. The stories come to him mostly when he is in crowds of people attempting to read their body language and gauge what type of character they'd be in his books from it. He finds himself doing this more and more to divert his attention from the increasing occurrences of floating items around him. Both parents listen to his claims with more interest after brushing them off as a child's imagination once they begin to notice the claims have only grown more grandiose with age. His mother being the only one of his parents born with magic begins to fear it might have passed to her son. Fearing for his safety she attempts to tell him that nothing he sees is real in hopes that he represses it subconsciously without having to get others involved. This seems to work for a while as there are no more stories till one night she checks on him finding  miscellaneous items mid air in reaction to a dream he was having.

His parents growing worried for their sons condition and his overall health take him to the  village elder as their last option once hospitals prove there is nothing wrong. It is here that they find out that Jian has been experiencing uncontrolled magic and the adverse effects it carries when not trained. This explains his headaches and of course the levitating objects while confirming that he wasn't going crazy. The parents are asked to allow the elder to help Jian learn to control this, he is given his wand here it being the elders own and being told it has a whimsical nature choosing free natured people like itself over all else.

As time progresses Jian is tutured in the ways of practical magic for every day events and finds a fascination with charms that make everyday life more interesting. As this continues he still writes short novels and moved his attention to writing articles for local newspapers  even given his own question and answer section. Deciding it was time to see what else the world had to offer Jian using his sizable savings booked passage on a boat headed for England on the month of his birthday. Arriving in June he set to task finding a humble abode near The very docks he arrived on, he spent the last five months of the year acclimating. Acquiring the pen name Ramsey Doyle to better his influence he began writing short critiques on plays that he would venture to see. This earned him a following of people intrigued by his sincere yet artful writing painting a picture for the reader. Later he moved on to include poems that harkened back to his homeland which garnered him the trust of a more emotional crowd as his poems used a style not yet embedded into the English society, haiku's. Also when he arrived he changed his last name to Varnham from Ma so he wouldn't ostracize himself from his fellow man. Since the loss of his family however he has dropped the family name to distance himself and sink further into obscurity.

Jian went completely silent in the world of literature and reading materials. He spent this time writing his first ever full fledged book thirteen chapters in all. It told his actual life but through the eyes of an Englishman awoken in a strange land. The book published, released and had a signing mid year. The book received high praise all around as it told the struggle of a male not speaking or knowing the culture quickly adapting and over coming his short comings. Not being one for fame an English actor was hired to play his role while Jian watched from outside a small book shop. While watching people come and go with signed copies of Connors Travels his eyes tunnel visioned. He hadn't seen her enter the shop somehow, but as she exited he couldn't help but allow his eyes to linger. She didn't stand out besides clearly being of Asian descent and she moved fluidly through the crowd as if she wasn't part of this world not interacting with it naturally as humans do. Her beauty could only be described as simplistic in the most elegant of ways, it didn't garner a second look if topical appearance was where your mind went. Her appeal laid in her form, her presence, and the subtle facial expressions that combined to make up her.

Having never truly spoken to someone of the opposite sex in this light he quickly found himself not only tripping over himself literally to catch up in stride to her but also mentally fumbling words in his mind. Finally catching up to her he found himself in front of the object that caused his heart to race frozen with one finger pointing up to the sky and what he knew was a most disturbing face. Luckily she didn't run however and instead gave him a sheepish smile with  her head tilted downwards as she hugged his book to her chest. Jian knew she was above his station, it was very easy to see and he knew just her being seen speaking one word to him might have been enough to lower her in the eyes of peers. He didn't speak to her but instead reached into his back pocket and handed her his pride and joy, the notebook that had been with him and had all his ideas including the finished book she now held. Passing it to her he tipped his head in normal fashion and walked back to the book store.

Multiple letters of affection and "accidental" meetings later the two would be married outside a small church outlook on the ocean in the begining of January, making his new year present marrying the most perfect being to ever allow him their presence. Married life was a complete different beast than what life had taught him. He enjoyed every moment of it and he was sure that his bride loved him. Some nights however he spent awake as she lay next to him wondering if she'd ever grow tired of his whatever the day may hold type of attitude. Each day unbeknownst to his wife he'd take some time before breakfast to write her a one sentence letter affirming his love and promise to always be there for her. He hid these away in his private lockbox that held copies of his old works and random notebooks.

While time passed leisurely allowing the two the comforts of learning to live together it flowed smoothly. Each breath and word she spoke in his direction brought new life into his body and he was truly glad he'd found someone to share not only his life with but his passions as well. These days would only fall second to the news that he would be a father to a son. When Jian wasn't working on a new project he'd ask Sajjal to sit with him either in their bedroom or if weather permitted under a tree with the warmth of the sun at their back. During these times he'd hold her close using whichever hand was wrapped around her waist to rub her stomach. He tell them both stories that he'd recall while others he'd make up on the spot at her request. A fond memory of his was one evening he was doing just this but starting to tell of a violent magical duel with hexes. His wife had quickly slapped his hand and told him to make the story happy so he spun it to the two adversaries solving their differences over tea.

When Avery was born, even as a baby he looked exactly like his father, a fact that his mother wouldn't let him forget. Jian never expected to have a wife let alone be a dad so to say the least he was overwhelmed. Owing to his nature he never let his wife see his worry and instead would venture out some days to the local library to read up on children and occasionally people watch others that had young children in an attempt to emulate that as well. Their first experience  with Avery and magic was a bit daunting. The child apparently had thought he was a spider on a wall, Sajjal had screamed as if the boy was abducted which caused Jian to rush in and defuse the situation. Her overprotective nature always me him smile because while a quirk it showed just how selfless she truly was.

Most days Jian would write his varying tales and articles in the city or in their kitchen which always slightly agitated Sajjal because of his paper trails. During days he knew she was stressed or over thinking how to raise and take care of Avery he'd sit her down at the end of the night. While they dressed down for bed he'd always reaffirm his trust in her decisions as a mother often kissing the the top of her head and offering a massage to help her ease into sleep. While she slept during the night he usually made that his "shift" to fully take care of Avery so his wife could get a full nights rest. At night he'd write by candlelight near his sons crib mostly children's tales taking a spin on some already established lore.

Some years passed and the three of them settled into a very consistent groove and way of carrying forward with the day. Of course this would be when the world would deem it appropriate to give their family another child. Varnham was born healthy and another boy at that, it seemed that Sajjal was destined to always be out numbered. It could be said that while Avery looked like his father, Varnham carried the same presence as his mother and naturally gravitated towards her for most things. The child as he grew, always had questions about everything, Jian would chuckle as Sajjal attempted to answer them all till she started just shaking her head and listen to their child speak.

While their family grew there were multiple times that Jian would sometimes recluse himself away and chain together multiple stories for publication. He was preparing for the inevitable move that Sajjal had mentioned to him in passing once the boys started to grow and their cottage would no longer do. Of course each time he crawled from his seclusion the children would run to him recalling him with their activities, his wife would kiss him on the forehead before promptly telling him to please go shave. Moving to Bartonsburg after they saved up an appropriate amount this is where they resided. Jian would still write but tried to enjoy more time with his family while he could before they head off to school. He loved the free time he got with Sajjal and their children.

Sadly there was to be the end of what he knew as a perfect life. During one night where he had suffered an incredible writers block Jian had decided to take a evening stroll through his favorite park. He left his sleeping wife and children nestled comfortably at home ensuring not to wake them as he exited. He doesn't remember the full details but when he had made his way back home terror was in front of him. Somehow a electrical outlet had malfunctioned igniting the downstairs of their home, quickly spreading to a raging inferno. The fire had only needed minutes to spread to the upper floors, he was told they didn't suffer long subduing to the smoke inhalation long before the fire had reached them. This time could more than likely be labeled as the moment the Jian everyone knew had died as well and his carefree spirit faded to nothingness.

Everything that had meant something to him had been taken from him and it had only taken a grand total of twenty minutes for it be over. Jian didn't hold a funeral or a viewing for his wife's family or his family. He quietly mourned his wife and two kids in a undisclosed location by himself. The man that came back into the world was a shell of his old self, he had the house rebuilt just as it was before the fire and he spends most of his time here mostly only coming out due to absolute necessity. He's added a few modifications to the homes basement affording him the ability to dispose of things through a miniature crematorium that connects to his main chimney output system. In his basement he keeps three caskets buried underneath a false floor that leads into a even more secluded basement. The poor male can't and wont envision a world where he doesn't have his family. It drove him to the depths of studying the darker side of magic related to bringing the dead back. Somewhere along the way though this has seeped into even making a faux bodies to simply hold memories of what was lost if a complete resurrection isn't possible. He's devoted most of his waking moments to experiments on dead or dying subjects utilizing varying spells to try and halt death, slow it down, or reverse the process.

Jian recently has moved up to actual human experimentation, getting bodies from the homeless and various other seedy places that would like to see a body disappear. He's not a bad person, but a means to and ends is exactly just that. Just how far would you go to bring those lost back?