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[ full birth name ] Sarandiel Kutiel Swan
[ meaning of forename ] ruling angel of the twelfth hour of the night
[ preferred name ] Sarandiel usually goes by Sara (Kutiel), since very few people are actually aware of his middle name. Crawford is only used within a close circle of friends.
[ nicknames ] Kutiel or Sara.

[ age ] 16
[ gender ] Male
[ role ] Trainer
[ hometown/place of origin ] Islebury ; Laverre City, Kalos

[ physical appearance ] Sarandiel has a fairly slight build, slender and bordering on gangly.

[ alignment ] Neutral Good
[ date of birth ] June 20th — summer solstice
[ star sign ] Gemini
[ totem animal ] Serval

[ personality description ] Tranquil. That’s what Sara comes across as. Sara is a calm, parentally adept, and likable persona, a person who puts up very little fuss and tends to keep to himself. Having been struck with the loss of his parents and older sister at the tender age of eight, he has since closed his heart off to new people, becoming reticent and guarded. Sara is exceptionally stubborn and rebellious. He doesn’t take orders well, tending to snap back or put his feet down whenever he is ordered to do something. This male is a free-spirit and very independent, making working with him to be challenging at times. Additionally, he has a fundamental distaste for strict order and tends to put his foot down whenever he feels that he is being bossed around. He doesn’t allow his feelings to jeopardize himself or his teammates and works just as well in group settings as in solitude. He has a no-nonsense attitude toward command and is more than willing to assert himself and put his foot down if he feels overwhelmed. However, he is truthfully one of the most creative and artistic members of the resistance, willing to put a fun spin on any dull activity. Sara is actually a bit of a klutz, always misplacing things, always disorganized, still stumbling over his own feet. And his appearance isn’t very fierce, considering his thin frame, cherubic face, and rich, soothing voice. So instead, he makes up for it in cunning, wit, and humor, using diplomacy as a way to get out of messy situations, only using his fists when necessary.

[ daemon ] Swan

[ noted relations ] Tobias Crawford (father) • Isadora Crawford (mother) • Soleil Rayne (cousin)

[ pokemon team ]
xxxxxx• indeedee —  moves
xxxxxx• meganium —  moves
xxxxxx• raichu —  moves
xxxxxx• meowstic (f) —  moves
xxxxxx• samurott —  moves
xxxxxx• oricorio (pom pom form) —  hurricane | calm mind | revelation dance | roost

Bright sunlight cascaded down the sides of the large library, and permitted entry to the nesting place of so many books, soon poured incandescently into the library, creating a blinding sheet of light that illuminated patches of the floor. It was still bright and early, yet with the way the library and its windows were designed, the place was almost immediately clad in a bright cloak as soon as dawn swung around. In absolutely no hurry, a young man walked around each shelf, shuffling books in each aisle and shelf into their correct positions, a placid air around him that set all who could see him at ease. He could hear the playful banter, murmuring like doves, filled with quiet cheer and deep thought. Such was to be expected at the The Flower Garden. Rowan Crane knew that if there was one place that he could just focus on his job without worrying about the utterly terrible state of the world, it was here in the garden. He hadn't known it then when he filed his resumé and gone in for his interview, but when he landed the job, when he'd gotten the email that he was hired, it only took a week for him to realize that he was here to stay. Where else would he go?

Rowan didn't usually find it in himself to pay attention to customers and their various needs unless he was mentioned or if someone needed something from him. Frankly, he wondered if he should actually apply for a desk job - and stop being in the background so much. But considering that he had not yet found a good way to well - put his circadian clock on track with that of a human- he could really risk falling asleep. And wouldn't that be embarrassing! Picking up a series of mathematics textbooks, all written by Lance DuBois, that had gotten displaced, he carried all four of them over to the correct place several shelves over, only staggering slightly under the rather cumbersome weight. Silently, he sighed to himself, running a hand through his light brown locks. While he was not one to openly rebuke anyone who was kind enough to pay The Flower Garden a visit, it annoyed him to no end when people didn't put the books back properly. Or when they openly mistreated the books they were reading, such as putting dog-ears or spreading them flat when they wished to preserve a page. 'Books should be treated with respect and care if they were to last.' Rowan thought quietly to himself. So absorbed was he in his work that he did not expect the ear-splitting shriek — 'Shien, bring the medical books here please?' Rowan literally jumped a few feet in the air as he felt the discordant sound ways smash into his sensitive ears, leaving them ringing long after the shout faded. Since his hearing was at least ten times as sharp as the average humans, even the smallest things could feel piercingly loud. Rowan took a few deep breaths, his heart racing. There was a chorus of thuds as all the books he had been carrying tumbled to the floor. Great. He'd wanted them in a certain order too.

The strigiform directed his peeved look at the inanimate novels scattered haphazardly on the floor instead of at the actual offender as he collected the books up once again, making sure to put them back in the right order this time before moving on. Ordered by title, in alphabetical order. The peace of the once quiet library disrupted, Rowan moved on to moving the books to the correct locations without a glance at the people at the counter. It didn't seem that they'd noticed him anyway. Apart from these set of vagabond books, it seemed the shelves were in good order, and Rowan set the books down with a gentle smile. With that done, he straightened up, stifling a yawn before making his way to the counter. He rolled his eyes at the sappy puppy look that had come over his coworker, Shien, when he handed the girl his book, like a puppy expecting his master to give a treat for good behavior. Given the current conversation exchange, he waited patiently for his turn to speak. He didn't miss the astonished look the girl gave Shien when she spotted how feline the jackal's eyes were. What did she expect anyways? Shien's behavior deviated from the normal human's so much so Rowan was tempted to pet him.

Guess this was a first for her.

"The shelves on the left wall are all sorted now." Rowan said respectfully to his boss, a thread of worry going through him - showing up within his cognac optics when Miyabi started coughing again. His health was not in the best state, and whether the red haired male knew it or not, Rowan would definitely be keeping an eye on him. "Oh dear. Try some honey for that cough?" He said with concern, only trailing off when he realized how out of place that must sound. Especially since the girl seemed to be an experienced healer. Making his way to the freshly arrived books, he began to examine them carefully, putting them in separate piles for later.

Oh, my god.
Yeah, that was the first thought that popped into my head. I'd done it! I'd won!
And you want me to be honest about something? In all my years of writing, I'd won ... absolutely nothing! This is sincerely my first award that I'd ever gotten regarding something I wrote. And oh boy the serotonin rush? The giddiness? I'm grinning from ear to ear!

I remember writing this in my about me as an honest confession to my anxieties regarding Rping.

Quote

Diary mine,

Alright, I'll admit it. I'm not the biggest social butterfly on PH. You've probably noticed that because hey - how many people know me? I'm just a writer who's trying to find a creative outlet for my mind. My friend group is usually composed of a set few users that I have communicated with for the longest time, and honestly, when I make a friend, I tend to get far too attached. Maybe I'm nervous that I'll make friends with the wrong person, maybe it's because I am aloof, who knows. I guess I'm not as social as I once was. You'll likely meet me in this journal in fact, since I'm like in three rps here. (Two too many in my opinion, actually.)

Not only that, but even my writing gives me the anxious jitters. I always find myself wondering, is this good enough, or could i have done something more. I come back to it a day later, and I say well this sucks. I really don't like how this is written. or This sounds awkward. Unfortunately, this means that I do tend to get nothing done at times. I only have like one finalized piece for lord's sake, and to think I dreamt of being a journalist. Seems lofty to me now. Even the smallest projects I have a hard time getting done, (in real life I mean.)

God that sounded depressing. I guess I do tend to beat myself up a lot when it really comes down to it. I know the saying well: you are your own worst critic. Nevertheless, writing stories / text is something I will eternally treasure as a dear hobby, and I know that if I put my mind to something, I will surely finish it. One day.

Sincerely,
Immortes

It's true! I get all the nervousness and jitters when it comes to writing. Nothing seems to be good enough at first glance, and even now when I look back on things, I curl up and cringe. Thank you PH — and to all the people I"ve rped with — proving to me that I can be good enough.

Even though this award was dedicated to me, I would like to extend it to all the people on PH who are beginning or in their RPing careers. The only limit to RPing is your creativity and your own inner critic. Go big and go wild!

Thank you Eli_Vanto for making this character dynamic with me. It's been and will continue to be a pleasure to break their hearts. <3