|In his prime|
| Whistle is a quietly good looking man whose body languages and mannerisms seem to focus entirely inward. Tall and of average stature, he has skin on the pale side of tan, dark brown eyes and dark hair that is worn short and somewhat disheveled. When surrounded by greenery, his eyes seemed to constantly be a muted shaded of molten gold, as if he can’t quite turn off his abilities. |
Whistle wears glasses- he also has about half a dozen spares tucked away for safe keeping. It is not something he actually needs; he is a Project, after all. But Whistle uses it has a small barrier against the rest of the world, and his siblings leave him be.
Whistle is intensely shy. He does not do well with prolonged eye contact with people he is not close to, and prefers solitude to crowds. It shows in the way he holds himself, body language that always seems to be pointing towards the nearest exit, and the way he is very careful to make sure no one is in his personal space.
Despite that, Whistle usually does have a sunny disposition and expression. He can normally be found with a gentle smile on his face, and even if they furtive, he will try to hold your gaze for as long as possible.
|Whistle is quiet and shy- there are no other words that would better describe the man who prefers solitude to the company of others, plants to people. He is not good with people, but he is very empathic. He understands undercurrents of emotions and frustrations- in part because he feels the same. He is quiet, and quite obedient when it comes to orders from those he considers his superiors. He is a good worker, very detail oriented, and most at home when he is in the greenhouse or gardens, surrounded by plants. |
Whistle does have a quietly playful side that is often most obvious when he is alone with Imraan. He is also very creative, and quite passionate about horticulture.
|The same way Imraan is called the “Architect” and has an odd control over the buildings and infrastructure of the Labs, Whistle works in the same manner with greenery. He can control and command plants, whether it is to create a thick forest over land that was barren, or beautiful, exotic works of art.|
Many forget that Whistle was there at the very beginning. That when people speak in hushed voices of the three Projects that built the Vella Crean, that stole from worlds and created fantastical homes, that he was the third.
Whistle does not mind being forgotten. Before, when they were young and newly created, the three of them had been overcome with ambition and passion. Platos collecting two of every creature she could come across, Imraan commanding stone and marble into towering architecture, and himself… well.
Whistle does not mind being forgotten, because he likes to forget himself.
Plants that would eat dragons, thorns that would pierce flesh. There had been a point in his life when Whistle had been fascinated by the dark and the dangerous, and it embarrassed him now.
He was… mature, now. Cultured. The Whistle with the soft molten gold eyes and dark spectacles preferred the beautiful and ornate plants he cultivated. Rare flowers he would hybridize from different seeds collected from the Nexus.
He was a different person, spurning war and death and darkness.
Or at least trying to.
“You know Shy would appreciate your help.”
Whistle ignored the familiar voice behind him, focusing on the small seedling he was coaxing to life. A tiny stalk burst through dark soil, and teeny tiny leaves unfurled.
“He could command me.” he answered quietly.
Imraan laughed. “You know he does not like doing that.” The Architect peered over Whistle’s shoulder, watching as the leaves grew, a slender stalk growing from between the leaves.
“Then you know I will not help him with this war.” his words were careful, his touch delicate. “I don’t want to kill things again.”
“I understand.” Imraan reached out to place a hand on Whistle’s shoulder. “But he wants to protect the city, and you could help with that.”
The stalk that had carefully been growing stopped. It seemed to shrink.
“I don’t want to kill things again.” the leaves shivered, curling inwards.
“Whistle, I get it.” the hand patted him a few times. “But if you stay here, there will always be pressure.”
Whistle turned, project forgotten. “So I should run away?” there was just a touch of heat, affront to his words.
The Architect laughed. “Run away? No. But, what about a trip?”
“Where would I go?” Whistle wondered about the different worlds. Platos had gleefully scampered off to Akelara and had returned with a Steam drakkari who seemed just as gleeful. Imraan was rarely around, enjoying using “research” as an excuse to visit different worlds. Isla… Isla was also becoming quite the destination amongst the Projects.
But Whistle did not like the thought of running into Shy. Of seeing those patient feline green eyes and knowing that the Scientist wanted him to help against the Death Court.
“You could come with me, to Icarus.”
Whistle tried to remember what he had heard of Icarus. The world with draks, Wykosei, Imraan’s own bond. The Architect had returned several times with unusual and beautiful flowers. He had used them to decorate the Imperial hatching, had hybridized them with a climbing vine to create a few stunning indoor arches for the Light Court.
“Will you be going to Dawn Castle?” he asked. It would be nice, Whistle decided, to see the home of the flowers; maybe see what else he could do.
Well. That shot that idea down.
A small twist of consternation crossed the Landscaper’s face, and the little plant that he had ignored burst into a shiny array of metallic flowers.
“Acicade, this time. The High Princes at Dawn have helped with an introduction. I’m going to study the defensive formations of the towers, see if it will inspire me for some upgrades for the Vella Crean.” he grinned. “Wykosei will be delighted to take you to. What do you say?”
Whistle frowned. “I’m not running away, Imraan.” he answered.
“Of course not.”
“I just… need a break.”
“Breaks are restorative.” the Architect answered easily.
“Probably can inspire some new plants.”
Whistle smiled, nodded. “I would like to go to this Acicade Castle with you then.” he answered.
Whistle is adamant he is not running away. He is a Landscaper and enjoys building and growing plants, but he does not want to remain on the Vella Crean while the Death Court is a threat: although Shy has not come outright to demand it, the Project does not like the pressure of knowing that his talents could be used in warfare.
Whistle is a peacekeeper.
So he decided to go on a little… break. A restorative break, he assured many of the other Projects. To Icarus, to see what there is to learn on this different world, and also see if he could maybe put his skills to good use.
He would not return to the Vella Crean, not permanently, not until the Death Court “matter” was dealt with.
When the last hatchling came forward into the grey light of the day, the onlookers stirred a bit. Most had believed this drakling to be a rain female. But his black wings proved that fact false as did the fact that he was a male. One of the older spectators whispered that he’d witnessed another like it before and that the colour had been called Stone. The young hatchling quietly tolerated the whispers and ignored the stares as he waited patiently for his mother to call out his name.
She took her time, waiting for the noise to quiet down, before she finally gave up his name: “Tafueb.” she said.
Only then did the hatchling make his way toward the last remaining aspirant. During the entire event, Whistle had kept to himself, quietly waiting. His golden eyes hidden by glasses couldn’t help but glow a little brighter as the dark drakling approached.
“Pleased to meet you. I’ll be in your care.” Tafueb introduced himself formally.
“Likewise.” Whistle replied with a small bow.
Whistle (m) and Stone Tafueb (m) – trainer: Marigan & Earth Kanasu (Guard Training)