Appearance

Physical Description

He has a fairly thin, emanciated physique from his past of being a slave. Despite this, some musculature is still seen, from harsh toiling for last 5-10 years. He has scars here and there.

Body Features

Short fur, carefully trimmed hooves. His glyphmark resembles a flower

Facial Features

Has a mole on his right temple. Wrinkles line his face, and he wears repaired glasses on nose. His fur is sheared short on his jaw.
 
His eyes are brilliant green.
 
There are three light green dots tattoo'd on his muzzle.

Identifying Characteristics

A small scar on his right eyebrow, as well as a mole on his temple.

Apparel & Accessories

A heavy iron slave collar around his neck. He wears the Fillydelphia Worker outfit, which he tries to keep as clean as possible.
 
He is a little nitpicky about his appearance. It gives him a sense of control over at least some aspect of his life. This, in part, was instilled into him by previous owners, who valued him not just for menial labor.

Mentality

Personal history

I were born on a cold spring morning in Glyphmark, a zebra settlement, 63 years ago. My parents both held strong their connection to their roots of the Mendi, and as such, I grew up with the culture as well. Herbs and healing were close to my mother's heart, and taught me to tend to what plants we could cultivate in the irradiated Wasteland.
 
My aptitude to plants earned me my place under the tutelage of a Master Alchemist, an old mare named Magadi, also a Mendi.
 
Several years went in my studies, and Magadi was a strict, no-nonsense teacher. Though I primarily learned traditional Mendi brews, I did have a chance to gain access to a few Equestrian books of medicine. At the age of 23, after ten long years of study, I finished my studies as an alchemist.
 
According to Mendi teachings, certain procedures that ponies did without any moral problems, were taboo. Including, but not limited to, organ transplant. No zebra really remembers why, nor do I care to speculate beyond death rates.
 
When Nuru, the chief's daughter required a new kidney or face death, I threw those old taboos to the wind and operated on her, with the chief's quiet acceptance. Though the procedure was a success, others grew angry at the disrespect shown. Nuru and I disappeared into the night.
 
After a difficult journey with a recovering patient, we reached a pony settlement that, for their amazement as much as ours, didn't shoot us on sight. We settled, put up a clinic and went on with our lives.
 
Now, mind you, I didn't have romantic interest in her, though she was a very beautiful mare, and only two years younger than I.
 
Ten years ago, slavers decimated the town we lived in, and both Nuru and I were captured, presumably for our skills in medicine, she was my nurse after all. We were separated at an auction.
 
I went through many masters since, some bad, some worse, and some even fairly decent. Now... I've been sold to Fillydelphia, to Red Eye's faction. I have heard of this place, but never seen it before.

Education

I have a formal education in Mendi alchemy, variety of brews and concoctions.
 
I am also educated in academia and lore of various places in Equestria, for the pleasure of my previous owners who saw value in a learned slave.

Employment

I was self-employed doctor and alchemist -witch doctor if you ask some racist schmuck- for decades.
 
Now I am a slave, putting those same talents in use. I've been a physician to a few of my slaver masters.

Accomplishments & Achievements

Successful organ transplant in this tartarus-driven hellhole that is the Equestrian wasteland. I am safe to say that I have good reason to be proud of my skills.

Failures & Embarrassments

Getting run out of my home village.

Mental Trauma

I've grown used to being a slave and it unfortunately, shows. I don't fight back as much as I used to. Though, I am getting weary and tired the older I get.

Intellectual Characteristics

I am, and this no empty boast, an intelligent stallion. As is expected of me.
 
I enjoy history and mythology in particular, but politics has never been to my interest. Though, one of my former masters was keen on his settlement's inner politics, so I did get my fair share of that as well.

Morality & Philosophy

Make it be known, that I am not an equestrian doctor, nor do I follow its doctrines. You come to me bleeding and in a hissy fit, and I will beat you until you shut up and let me treat you. I suppose that has earned me a something of a negative reputation...
 
"Do no harm" is bullshit anyway.
 
Aside from that, I don't think I have much in the way of philosophy. I suppose a slave doesn't really afford to have one aside from that of his master's...

person.sexuality

I'm 63. I'm happy if it stands without pills.
 
Besides, slaves don't really get that luxury.

person.gender_identity

Male.

Taboos

Medicine? No taboos.

Known Languages

Zebra, Glyphmark dialect.
 
Common Ponish.

Personality

Motivation

I just want to survive to tomorrow. Besides, getting out might be too much for my old bones anyway.

Quotes & Catchphrases

Do I look like I spout such bullshit?

Savvies & Ineptitudes

Alchemy and medicine, as well as equestrian lore and myths.
 
Ineptitudes... you assume I have flaws? Well... I suppose I do fold rather easily, but it is easier to bend willingly than it is to be forced to. Hurts a lot less.
 
Nor should you really count me to fight on your behalf.

Likes & Dislikes

I do hold myself to a standard, slave or not. Trimmed hooves, trimmed jaw... I will not look like a homeless stallion if I can help it. Personal grooming is important for health as well!
 
Now, I don't abhor getting dirty, per say, blood is after all, a fairly usual sight in the wasteland; but I want to keep my hooves neat in case I have to stick them in some creature's stomach in the next 20 minutes.

Virtues & Personality perks

I am an educated stallion, more so than your average wastelander.
 
I wouldn't call myself a good person, though.

Vices & Personality flaws

Some might call me cold and distant, at least initially.
 
Others may call me short-fused. But they had it coming, some snot-nosed brat thinking they can just come and blabber my ear off when I'm trying to focus on my brews...
 
I suppose the short fuse is why I've been through so many masters.

Hygiene

Neat, and meticulous. I am not to look like some... some... hobo, if I can help it!

Social

Birthplace

Glyphmark

Current Residence

Fillydelphia

Contacts & Relations

Nuru: A zebra mare 2-3 years younger than me. Though I have no clue if she is still alive, as she too was sold as a slave some 10 years ago. If she is, she's around 60. She's good nurse, and an even better at talking. She's not one to back down when she's set her mind on something... Probably stays alive out of sheer spite.
Quality Mentor: My current master.
Scarlet Step: One of my former masters, to whom I was a personal family physician to.

Honorary & Occupational Titles

Slave number 208

Wealth & Financial state

I have no possessions... well, officially at least. I may have squirreled away a hot plate, a pot and a spoon for some personal projects. But don't tell anyone. I'd hate to see them confiscated, or far worse, stolen.

Family Ties

None remain.

Religious Views

Spirits exist around us, but I am no shaman. I cannot see them. If I did, I'd assume I was sold for a higher price than I was.

Social Aptitude

In ten years, you learn certain kind of... humility. Or, if nothing else, you learn to feign it. I converse well, and when asked. Not out of need to please -seriously, get off my face- but out of self-preservation.

Mannerisms

Cleaning my glasses, I suppose. Nuru always said that I click my tongue when I'm displeased.

Hobbies & Pets

No pets...
 
I do like reading, and try to do so when I can. Occasionally, I'm the slave compound's only literate person, so I suppose entertainment falls to me. It's actually kind of nice, occasionally.