Air of Water.

Piloting his submarine into the piscine depths, he plots his course with a goblet of wine close to hand. Solid but graceful, a Nemo in charge of his own private forces – he emerges from the ocean to claim his prize, and slips back into the concealing water. Secret plans and hidden agendas beneath an affably gruff exterior.

He’s avuncular and amiable, and other friendly words beginning with A. But you can never trust him to not be as slippery as the bubbles left in his wake; can you catch him? Can you pin him down? Is this even a good idea?

Give him a plan to help execute, give him something to bring all his fascinating machines to bear upon. Give him a problem to solve and he might move the world. (He might not realize how much will change in its wake; be careful.) But he can get as lost in a trivial little problem, if there’s something for him to sink his teeth into. It’s hard for him to say no.

He’ll lead if he must but he’d rather just appear here and there and teach. A guerilla warrior, when he must be one, rather than a man who’ll drive armies behind him. (If he *must* fight he’d rather do it himself. But he’d rather do almost *anything* himself.) He can fix his tools but he has people to do that kind of thing for him; he’d rather get on with the bigger project.

Sometimes he trusts his maps far more than he should, despite knowing that they’re of the shifting sea.