Mr. Jingles

"Mr. Jingles is half sorcery, half sass, and entirely fabulous. A human brimming with mysterious blue magic, this fashionable thespian-turned-bounty-hunter uses his wits, charm, and arcane shenanigans to overcome any obstacle that gets in his way." undefined

Mr. Jingles wants to be best hero in the world, with as little work as possible. In addition, he has handcuffs that are “fuzzy and pink and delicate like me”, used to demoralize the quarry, but he has proper manacles as well.undefined

Doesn't like apples, apparentlyundefined

Origin
Jon (as only his closest friends know him) has been “eccentric” since birth, but no one is quite sure who birthed him. Though much is speculated, the only thing known for certain is that at just over a year old, baby Jon toddled his way out of the mystical forest of Haven, and into the home of Lady Ayla Elorien, a noblewoman in the elven village of Eversun. She knew the child would be trouble from the start, after he turned her curtains into a slim-fit diaper with a side tuck and matching ascot--it was clear that, even by elven standards, there was incredible magic flowing through the little human. Despite being painfully single, the noble elf’s maternal instincts were strong...and thus, she adopted the child, naming him in no small part after her favorite human storybook hero: "Jon Jericho", from the Heart of Jericho saga.

Young Jon’s adoption caused quite the fuss amongst the elves, and many treated him as an ever-present outsider. Even the other children seemed colder and callous to him--a stark contrast to his exuberant and outgoing personality. But Ayla doted on him like a true loving mother, and in spite of her community, nurtured that nature into the glorious shape it is today: when the elven children refused to pick him for games during a festival, she let him redecorate the entire villa all by himself. When he was dismissed from Bladesingers’ training (as a human, it was hard keeping pace with his elven peers), she hired a private tutor to school him further in the arcane ways. Whenever anyone seemed to knock Jon down, his mother instilled in him the grit and determination to leap back to his feet, and today it’s hard to imagine Jon as anything less than a poster child for utterly unshakable confidence.

As the years passed, Jon’s gift for magic began to overshadow even that of the other elves--something he met with curiosity, and others met with contempt. Already shunned for his heritage, his talent seemed only to push him further from his peers. His tutor believed that Jon may have been exposed to the ancient “blue magic” as an infant, but his theories were never seen through to fruition. Many stories of the boy’s “true” origins began to spread amongst the elves--some clever, some creative...but most were simply cruel. One evening, following a particularly trying afternoon in the market, Jon was approached by a handful of quarrelsome elves looking for trouble, led by the coddled and insufferable son of a local patriarch. And after a tirade of slurs and insults, they found their trouble--by the time the dust cleared, Jon was the only one left standing. Violence within Eversun, however, was met with grave consequences, and realizing the gravity of his actions, he found himself at a difficult crossroads: remain to face the punishment and shame that this would bring...or say to hell with all the spiteful adversity and start anew, somewhere far away from Eversun? In a moment of fleeting clarity, Jon chose the latter.

The scrawled note he left for his mother was far from ideal by his standards, but it was heartfelt, and would suffice for now--Jon wasted no time leaving the town, watching as his life up until now faded beyond the pines. He didn’t know when he would return...he just knew that, someday, he would.

New Beginnings
When he wandered into the small town of Cazalan, Jon felt the whole world at his fingertips. His bold fashion and bolder disposition earned him a quick spot with the Drama Queens, a traveling acting troupe. Despite the excitement of life on the road, he found himself slightly homesick--but he was born to perform, his natural charisma exuding from him like a spicy cologne...and he knew it. As days turned to weeks and weeks to months, he began to thoroughly enjoy this newfound freedom: he could go where he wanted to go, do what he wanted to do...and for the first time, he could be who he truly wanted to be.

One evening during a performance, he witnessed a thief steal the coin purse of a kindly old man, and some part of him suddenly awakened like he had never felt before...Jon leapt off the stage in hot pursuit, tearing through the alleys with the tremendous speed and grace he had adopted from the elves. After a dramatic and exciting chase, Jon finally got a clear shot--with a flash of quick thinking, he used his magic to catapult a bystander’s watermelon into the man’s face, instantly knocking him out cold in the middle of the street. Jon snapped a sassy quip as he sauntered over, and by the time he bound the thief and picked up the coin purse, a crowd had already gathered around him, clapping and cheering for his impressive victory. As he handed the pouch back to its proper owner, the old man smiled and pushed it back to Jon.

“Please keep it," he said. "Incentive for more young folk like you to bring some justice to the world.” Adrenaline still rushing and feeling like a million bucks, Jon thanked him profusely before dragging the criminal to the local constable. The constable seemed to recognize the thief at first glance, and locked him behind bars before turning to Jon.

“Well done, sir, we’ve been looking to catch that one for quite awhile--here’s your reward.” He firmly placed another even larger sack of coins in Jon’s hand, patted him on the shoulder, and returned to his paperwork.

Jon stood dumbly for a few moments, holding both pouches in his hand...it was more than he had made with the troupe over the entire season. He pondered to himself, remembering his mother’s words: “Do with your life what makes you happy, or it will only ever be a life half-lived.” As he thought long and hard, he realized that he was never happier than when he played the role of the valiant knight who defeats the dragon, or the dashing swashbuckler who rescues the damsel...or now, the young sorcerer who captures the wanted criminal. And it was with that sudden epiphany that Jon decided to become a hero.

Well, a hero of sorts--perhaps it's best to describe him as "hero-ish". Sharing a melodramatic and tearful goodbye with his troupe, he soon began his career as a full-fledged bounty hunter. Scouring the boards every morning, he had a knack for finding flighty felons...and for making a great, great show out of every chase. He garnered the nickname "Mr. Jingles" from the gaudy gold charms, trinkets, and buttons that clinked together with his every movement. The people loved it, the pay was great, he was making the world a better place--Jon had finally found his calling. Before long, the persona of "Mr. Jingles" had become widely-known across the countryside as Tremahia’s most exciting up-and-coming and fabulously-flamboyant bounty hunter...and not a soul could deny it.

Tracking Trixie
One evening, Jon came across a bounty from Baron Davian Thorne, an ambitious and powerful nobleman in Masthead. Speaking with him in person, the job was to track down a femme fatale named Altrisha.

“What did she do?” Jon asked.

“She did enough, and I’ll pay you much more than that to bring her back.”

After hearing the absurd amount of money the man was offering--much more ‘Alive’ than ‘Dead’--Jon set off to find the girl. He trekked across the land for weeks and weeks, scouring every corner of every town for information, until at long last, he caught word that a young half-elf fitting her description. Apparently she had recently made off with dozens of exquisite pearls from a town along the Cleric's Follow, a popular trade route leading north. Jon, with his breadth of experience finding criminals on the run, deduced that this little thief was likely on her way to Castle Barandu--and he would cut her off at the pass.

Landing there the following day, he journeyed southward down the long trade route, asking locals along the way if they had seen his target yet, but to no avail. He settled in for the night in a nearby village, retiring to the local tavern and expecting a long day of travel in the morning. But as he sat upstairs sketching new ideas for avant-garde tunics, his ears perked to an unfamiliar female voice, soft yet confident...with just the ever-faint hint of a Masthead accent.

Coming downstairs, he found the newcomer to be none other than Altrisha, or 'Trixie' as she was going by now--the very half-elven femme fatale he had been seeking. He jingled toward her step by step, casually joining her at the bar and making easy conversation over a fine bottle of a Masthead wine (he liked to play games with his bounties when the opportunity arose). After this little verbal game of cat and mouse, Trixie was about to make a break for it when Jon magically spun her chair back around to face him, and introduced himself. A brief but exciting scuffle ensued, his magic and preparation gaining him surprise and the upper hand before long--ending with a very confused Trixie disarmed, disheveled, and in a rather compromising position. Her tone quickly changed, shifting from sass to seduction as she turned to her failsafe escape strategy, gazing up at him and batting her eyes coyly as she “accentuated” her natural assets. Jon cocked an eyebrow as he looked her up and down, and for a brief second, she thought she had him...

...but a moment later, she found herself hogtied on the floor, rope bound magically around her wrists and ankles. Her captor leaned down with a smile of his own:

“In that outfit? Sweetie please.”

The Journey Home
With Trixie in his custody, the two trekked back to the coast. It was a long journey, filled with feisty, bitter, sarcastic, and witty repartee between the two of them. But at the very least they kept each other entertained, and there was never a dull moment between them...neither would dare admit it, but they could certainly have been stuck with worse company. As the nights passed, they exchanged slightly more personal stories that, though they hadn’t much thought about it, they hadn't shared with anyone else. It was safe to say that a faint bond had formed--certainly against their will--the two, to a degree, may have become unwitting examples of Stockholme Syndrome.

While camping near the suspiciously-named Boa Groves, they were set upon in the middle of the night by a Giant Constrictor Snake. Caught off guard, Jon barely had time to shout before the serpent wrapped its powerful body around him, pinning his arms to his side and constricting. Gasping for breath and without the use of his hands, there was little Jon could do to defend himself, much less kill the monster. Preoccupied with Jon, the snake paid no mind to the half-elf a few strides away. Before her, Trixie saw a perfect chance to make a move: she could simply run, and let the serpent finish off her captor while she escaped to freedom once more. While she could have easily done that, and been living a life of luxury in some faraway paradise (sometimes she scoffs that she should have), she instead threw a burning stick from the fire straight into the snake's unhinged jaw. Instantly, the serpent reeled back, and focused its attention on the girl, easing its grip on Jon just enough for him to get his arms free. He used his magic to untie Trixie's binds, and the two proceeded to defeat the vicious beast. When the fighting was over, she begrudgingly held her wrists out to be rebound...but Jon paused, eyeing her carefully.

“Can I trust you?” he said at last. The girl sighed and shook her head.

"Probably not."

“Ugh...oh well,” he sighed heavily, and waved her hands back down. “They looked a bit snug anyway.”

After that night, the dynamic shifted dramatically. They were no longer quipping out of frustration or anger--rather, they were simply quipping to quip, and now they both did it with smiles. Striding into the nearest port city, their smiles began to fade little by little as they recognized that this beautiful little journey of theirs would soon be coming to an end. Jon tried to steel himself, knowing that this had been simply business from the start...after all, making exceptions and breaking contracts was bad for a bounty hunter. He couldn’t quite read her, but he was sure Trixie understood. At least for the most part.

Standing on the dock, the pair gazed out across the sea, knowing exactly what awaited each of them on the other side. Several minutes passed in silence as they watched ship after ship sail into the harbor, docking at the pier alongside the flags of their respective destinations. Jon stared intently out over the water, hardly blinking, hardly breathing. As the final bell tolled for Masthead, Trixie spoke up softly.

“Well...guess that’s it then,” she looked up at him with a forced smile. “It was good while it lasted though, right?” Jon kept staring straight ahead, stone faced. She sighed, and let out a weak chuckle. “Promise to enjoy the money, Jon--buy something nice and pretend it was from me.”

Finally, he pulled his gaze away from the ocean and took her callously by the arm:

“You better be worth it.”

He marched her down the pier with seeming indifference, the wooden boards creaking beneath every firm step as they approached the ship for Masthead...but after a moment, Trixie furrowed her brow: Jon hardly slowed. As a matter of fact, he didn’t slow at all--rather, he walked right past the first boat, keeping a tight grip on her arm, and instead pulled her with him onto the ship docked just behind it. With a little extra panache, he slapped a small sack of gold coins into the captain’s hand.

“Where’re you two headed?” The captain asked. Jon glanced at Trixie, staring back at him wide-eyed, before turning to the captain with a smirk.

“Quintessa--and keep the change.”

Character Quirks

 * Wants to be the greatest hero who ever lived
 * Hates getting his hands dirty--both literally and figuratively
 * Fascinated by all things shiny, sparkly, glowy, or extravagant
 * Pretends he's more of a swordsman than he really is
 * Uses a gaudy gold-and-ruby ring given to him by his mother as his spellcasting focus
 * Stretches and casts "Mage Armor" as part of his morning routine to prevent injury
 * Plans to create a beautiful flying carpet for himself (has already purchased the rug)
 * Intrigued by the "blue fire" to which his magic seems so tied
 * Firmly believes in a "business before pleasure" mentality when it comes to romance
 * Haunted by the Soothsayer's unfinished foretelling (trying to learn how to interpret the cards)
 * Has a bizarre attachment to many inanimate objects, and a compulsion to animate them
 * Oddly protective over Trixie and, particularly now, Mugsy
 * Likes to play with and manipulate magic for use in "unconventional" ways

Notable Items
Bag of Souls

Bagpipes undefined

Brass Balls (bolas)undefined

Exquisite Carpet (size unknown, probably to enchant)undefined

Ever-matching Ascot

Fuzzy pink handcuffsundefined

Heward's Handy Haversackundefined

Kaleidoscope (extendable) undefined

Necromancer's Books (spellbook, journal, bestiary)

Rapier (floral guard)

Ring of Spell Storing

Broach of Protection