This is who I've Become• • Jack Napier And I respond to• • The Joker I've been alive• • Eighteen years I go to class with• • Seniors Friends are everything• • No friends for this guy. They have my eye• • on only one girl: Harleen Quinzel.
On the Outside
Hair color• • Blonde (occasionally bleached) Eye color• • Black Weight• • 145 lbs. Height• • 6"2 Distinguishing Marks• • Scars all over his body, particularly the ones around his mouth. The scars around his mouth permanently twist his lips into a smile (a Glasgow smile).
Everthing else• •
Give it to me, baby• •
Jokes and pranks Comedies That sexy and cute Harleen Quinzel Purple and green Guns
Give it away• •
Batman Serious people Tragedies School -- what else is there to know? People who play "hero"
The Side I know is right• • Evil About me• •
Jack is, and never will be, a nice guy. His thoughts and fantasies involve hurting people. Ever since he was a child, images floated around in his head of hurting people. At the same time, he acted as the class clown. He loved telling jokes and getting people to laugh. However, much of his humor was quite dark and often drove people away. His persona only worsened due to the abuse his father inflicted upon him and his mother. As a result, Jack found all sorts of ways to release his aggression until he was able to kill his father with his own hands. Jack enjoys light things, but he always places a darker twist to them. However, do not mistake Jack for being stupid; in fact, he is very intelligent. He is an excellent actor, adept at fooling people into believing certain things. Jack loves to twist reality and is always able to find a spin on certain things. He frequently enjoys to hunt and, often, kills the animals barehanded.
My Story• •
Once upon a time, there was a boy. The boy had a father and a mother. Now his father was not a very nice man. He was horrible. There was not a single night that passed when his father came home drunk. His father was a scary drunk. The littlest things would set the man off: dinner not being on time; clothes not being clean; the boy not finishing his homework, etc. His father would beat his mother senseless until his anger had abated. The boy could not do anything. Physically, the boy was too weak to stand up to his tall and burly father. While his mother was beaten, she cowered under her husband's terrifying shadow and accepted that his anger was her fault. Really, it was because the guy was a d!ck. Sometimes, beating her was not enough. So, the father turned to chasing after his own son and beating him until he passed out.
As he grew older, the boy became thick with muscle (much like his old man). On the outside, he appeared to be skinny as hell. Underneath his skin was muscle that rivaled his father. It did not hurt that the boy exercised and lifted weights regularly. The boy became a smart young man, capable of logically thinking that he could now take on his father. His father retrieved a knife from the selection of butcher knives in the kitchen. Standing over his wife, he prepared to stab down into her heart. As always, his mother cowered helplessly underneath him. The boy raced at his father and tackled him to the carpeted floor. Using the father's surprise to his advantage, the boy jerked the knife from his father's loosened fist. Then, the boy lifted the knife above his father's face and smiled disturbingly. Most of the boy was enjoying seeing his father, who tormented him and his mother, suffer. Keeping his father still, he took the knife to either side of the inside of his father's cheeks and carved into them a Glasgow smile. His father ended up dying from blood loss. His mother was a little messed up but was very much alive.
Although the boy murdered his father, he was never properly convicted for it. For a few years afterwards, the boy was sent to juvenile facilities for various things, many of them thefts. Since killing his father, he regularly attended therapy sessions. The boy was smart and downplayed himself into the role of a dutiful and well-behaved son. His acting so convinced the therapist that he was released from therapy as mentally healthy. Secretly, the boy has been fervently practicing his killing techniques on a wide variety of animals. Most of this has been in the sport of hunting. Reaching his teenaged years, the boy attended Gotham High. There he allowed his bad side to seep through. Eventually, he began to gain control of most of the bad kids in the school. Some of them still oppose him.
Knock knock. Who's there? Orange. Orange who? Orange you gonna let me in?
The very science of them seemed plausible enough to make him laugh. But, then again, really anything made him laugh. Most times, it was hard to be serious. Even harder was for people to tell whether or not he was serious. Always plastered on his face was a broad smile, one that (his mother once told him) would someday stretch from ear-to-ear. Oh he would love to see that day come! Though, his smile was not the friendly kind. Any person who encountered him was immediately filled with a sense of unease. You see, there was this glistening soullessness in his eyes. This soullessness was what upset people upon seeing him. Although, they never could put their finger on it. The soullessness could be due to many things. Regardless, it was there for all the world to see.
Waking up in the morning was like awakening from the dead. He pried his eyes open from sand-encrusted bottom lids. His face broke out into an immediate smile. He remembered the dream he had just before awakening. It was at night. His father had come home, striding, drunk in the dark. The light was on in the kitchen. His mother was sewing in there, lost in her needlework as she awaited her husband's return. He watched from his window, room dark. Eyes followed his father's movements as he walked confidently up the steps to their house. Instantly, he could sense something was amiss. Usually, his father stumbled and bumbled in the darkness of their neighborhood. As his father disappeared from the view from his window, he heard the door open and his father growl, "Nora." There was something there behind that growl. He slipped his hand into the pocket of his jeans and felt for the sharp edge of his switchblade. The razor edge sliced through his fingers, beautifully painful from the sharpening he had given the weapon earlier that day. He moved to the open door of his bedroom. He felt no fear as before; only anticipation and excitement. He had been waiting for this for so long. And the yelling begun. It was terrible and angry, filled with curses, insults, and false accusations. His pathetic mother blubbered and promised to do better, when really her husband was the one at fault. Sneaking downstairs, he felt the pure sting of excitement and anger stroking along the back of his soul. Trailing up his spine. Whispering into his ear. Those feelings were tender lovers he had slept with night after night. With each beating, they were created. With each bruise, they grew. Until finally they were strong enough to help him carry out this deed. And he wanted it so badly. Soon, his father was hitting his mother. He knew it began with the head. When she crumpled, it continued with kicking her sides and her face. The woman was too afraid to hold down a job. She was too afraid of everything. She didn't know how to laugh; she took everything much too seriously. He waited by the kitchen's doorway. He saw his father's tall shadow fall onto the floor, blocking out much of the light. His black eyes dilated, even blacker when filled by their pupils. To an observer, it would have been a terrifying sight. He inhaled and smelled the stench of his father's sweat on the air and the sickly sweet perfume of his mother's fear. Other scents pervaded his nostrils, but those two were the most important. He sneaked up behind the man and, with awesome strength, tackled him to the ground. Surprise caused his father's limbs to momentarily weaken. He dropped something that he held in his hands. He eyed it on the ground, smiled, and snatched up the object. A knife, long and sharp. No need for his, so why not use his father's? It would be such perfect irony. Kneeling over his father, he laughed low in the back of his throat. "Think you're gonna mess with me, kid? Think this is funny? Get off and maybe I'll let you off easy."
Smiling, he held the long knife to his father's throat. "I don't think so." He inhaled. Meanwhile, his mother was uncurling from the ball she had formed with her fragile body. Her face was filled with horror as she watched the two males in front of her. "You see...this actually amuses me quite a bit. I'd be loathe to stop just cuz you asked me to. I'm laughing way too much on the inside. Perhaps you should just take a load off and find the funny in this."
"I'm serious, kid. You better knock this off!"
His father attempt to get up, but he shoved the man back onto the kitchen floor with his tremendous strength. "I'm not. Well, I am quite serious, but I never am. Like I said, I'm having way too much fun. And we've just begun!" He slit his father's throat just a little, watching the blood trickle from the small wound. And enjoying it. He howled with laughter into the night, relishing seeing his father squirm. "Maybe you should try smiling every once in a while. It won't kill you." Then, he took the knife, placed it into his father's mouth, and slit both corners of his mouth. Blood seeped out from the deep wounds. His father gurgled from the blood pooling in his mouth. "Then again, it might just!"
And he left him there to run into the night. His laughter echoing throughout the neighborhood. That's where the dream ended.
It haunted his dreams, but he enjoyed watching it play out over and over again. It was like a favorite movie, quite enjoyable played more than once. Once he was done reminiscing, he forced himself out of bed. He caught sight of his appearance in the mirror. His blond, half bleached hair was quite bedraggled. He slept nearly in the nude, chest bare and boxers hiding his lower half. Faintly, he supposed a shower would be in order. After taking a nice and hot shower, he contemplated attending school. What didn't he already know? He was excellent at science, particularly chemistry. Technology was easy. English was a no-brainer, although quite disgruntling. Gym was obvious. It's not so much he wasn't good at school as he already taught himself half the things they were supposed to learn. Some days he didn't even go to school at all. Most times he would wander the streets of Gotham City, dallying with the drug dealers, the pimps, the prostitutes, the loan sharks, and whoever else he encountered. Quickly he had learned that the scum of Gotham were the ones who ran the city. The mayor liked to believe he had a control on everything. He didn't. The police liked to believe they had the criminals in full reign. They didn't. The city was awakening with new criminals everywhere one looked. It was only a matter of time before they all-out ran the city. For Jack Napier, that was his dream. The more he saw of Gotham, the more he wanted it for himself. Not so much for greed as just to watch it all go down in ashes. Some men just liked to watch the world burn. Jack was one of them. Although, it would prove difficult with the damn Bats on the scene.
Finishing his shower and dressing, Jack decided he would go to school. Just for laughs, shits and giggles. Just for watching his fellow students squirm about him. Maybe he would play a prank or two while there. Jack grabbed some stink bombs and toilet bombs and shoved them into his deep jean pockets. Then, he was off, walking down the street. His mother proved fairly unreliable since Jack killed his father. She was stuck into a mentally still state, where she shuffled about from place to place. She truly was a zombie, for she neither said nothing nor did anything. Child services hadn't bothered to check up on them, probably because they lived in a bad part of Gotham and also because Jack was an adult. He looked forward to living on his own. He had sold nearly enough bombs to the Gotham underground to afford a decent enough apartment, but he didn't want that. There was a nice little abandoned place in the heart of Gotham, a desolate joke shop he would re do as his own. Nobody had touched it in thirty years. Before leaving, Jack grabbed a sprinkled chocolate doughnut from the fridge and took a huge bite out of it. It was finished before he reached Gotham High School.
As soon as he entered the campus, Jack could feel the fear, the hate, and the unease brim up around him. The salty scent of fear (it was more savory than sweet--he could smell it) wafted around on the air, delectable and a nice morning aroma, quite like coffee. It pricked his senses and caused him to be alert. He sighed happily and smiled even wider. Before long, he entered the actual building. A few people turned to look at him, and those who did quickly turned back to their business.
"Why so serious?" he hissed at them. "Something rot in your morning breakfast?"
At that, he laughed darkly and continued on to find his locker. It was there he kept all his books and other articles (like bombs...don't tell anyone!). He unlocked the thing, but it jammed on him. He took a fist and slammed it into the metal. The locker door flew open from the impact, an unfortunate dent imprinted into the front of it. He rummaged around the mess inside of the locker, coming across old magazines, textbooks, unreturned library books, and other random articles. He slipped his books into the drawstring bag around his shoulder and closed and locked the locker. Something glinting blond and beautiful caught the corner of his eye. Fully, Jack turned his head to lay eyes on Harley Quinzel. He smiled widely and strolled over to her. He leaned against the row of lockers behind her, shoving his hands into his deep pockets.
"I never met a blonde I didn't like," he purred low and darkly. "But, then again, there's only one blonde I like."
It is the year 4000. The world is dying; the polar ice caps having melted; more destruction to the ozone layer. To top it all, the world is in a global war to survive the scorching heat of UV rays and the struggle not to be drowned by the ever rising water year by year. Only few places of high ground are inhabitable. Many people have died in the struggle to survive disease and the mass outbreak of war. But among war and all these horrible, unfortunate events lies a single hope.
A hope that might not save, but heal, the world. This hope is called the United Force. The United Force is a collection of extraordinarily gifted people, young and old, who harbor special abilities and use them for the good of mankind. In their formation, they believed themselves to be like the "superheroes" of old, saving people and fighting crime. But no, these people are more. Their powers were not thrusted upon them, but given at birth. Mutations adapting to the world's harsh environment. But, you must keep in mind, where there is a good force, there is also a bad force battling it.
This bad force is an entire organization of people exactly like or similar to those in the United Force. Their intentions, though, are aimed to rid the world of those who don't harbor these mutations. They believe themselves to be better in everything, frowning upon the United Force's cause. They have killed millions, even causing wars in the process. They are called the Daimis.
Now that you know of the world's history, choose your side.
The year is 4000. The world is different now. Impending global temperatures have soared and melted the polar ice caps. Most of the globe is now entirely covered in fresh water. Few pieces of land on Earth are habitable; these include the highest pieces of land that currently exist. The advanced technology of the human population has pushed ozone damage to its highest point. More UV rays filter through the broken ozone layer. Because of the increased radiation, the rate of health issues has increased worldwide. Some of these health problems have resulted in defective mutations. Many of these mutations have caused people worldwide to develop strange and amazing powers. To top it all, the world is in a global war. This is for the survival to escape the penetrating UV rays, the rising level of water, and to inhabit the limited land space. The world is a miserable, desperate place to live. Massive outbreaks of disease occur on a global scale. Various independent cities (akin to countries) fight for the rights to inhabit the limited landscape. On top of this, crime runs rampant under the noses of the officials of these independent cities.
One city, Emis, is the largest city in the Northern Hemisphere. As it is so, it has the most crime out of any other city. This poses a severe problem to the local government. The local officials can be trained only so many at a time and at a cost to the government. Only so many officials, of which there are few, can patrol the city's interior and exterior. As Emis is large, a solution was required. Very early in Earth's history, its inhabitants realized that the world's condition was their own fault. If they wanted to survive, they would need to save themselves. In the year 2400, the world's wealthiest people came together to pool their resources. They surmised that the world would have many problems in the future. So, they founded a private military organization that would act to not only protect Emis and the Highlands but also the rest of the world. They called this organization the United Force, inspired by the United Nations. They gave the gift of the United Force to the city of Emis, which gladly accepted it. Thus, the United Force was born.
1,600 years has the United Force stood guard over Emis. It has served to keep peace and order within the city. Without the organization, Emis would have died out long ago. There are Emians who have never been pleased about Emis. It is only within the last ten years that a rival organization has sprung up. They stationed themselves in the slums of Emis, amongst all its poor and its immigrants. There the rival organization gathered disparaged followers, who thirsted for retribution against Emis. The rival organization called itself the Daimis. As the Daimis grew in power, its agents created trouble for the United Force. The conflict between them increased to the point where city property was being damaged. Eventually, Emis's mayor pleaded with the Commander to eliminate the threat that was the Daimis. And so, the war between the United Force and the Daimis began...
Describing the actual city...
The aforementioned independent cities are scattered amongst the mountains and high hills of the various continents. They are very important. They hold fresh, pure water and the greatest amount of clean food available to the world's great population. People outside of these cities push against the cities' outside walls just to enter these cities. So, much of the cities' population makes up the various immigrants and homeless citizens from the outside. One of these major independent cities of this new Earth is called Emis. Emis is located in the Highlands, an area that once used to be Northern Europe. It is a city that stands tall, erect, and shining, surrounded by a tall, impenetrable magnetic fence. The city stretches on for miles at an end, its size rivaling that of a small country. Surrounding the city is an area of pure forest filled with some of Earth's last natural environment. It is made of tall pine trees, woodland animals, and a few wandering peoples.
....to be continued...
Evoblack
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Posted: Fri Mar 28, 2014 8:20 pm
I want YOU! to join the UF.
---revise as needed---
Posted: Mon Mar 31, 2014 7:38 pm
→ Jason Todd → Red Hood → Sophmore year
colors= silver/dark gray and/or black and red
model=colton haynes
motto= let the punishment fit the crime
Evoblack
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Posted: Mon Mar 31, 2014 8:26 pm
Jason Todd
The Basics This is who I've Become• • Jason Peter Todd And I respond to• • Red Hood I've been alive• • 17 I go to class with• • Sophomore Friends are everything• • We'll see. They have my eye• • Maybe, maybe not. Depends.
On the Outside Hair color• • Black-brown hair Eye color• • Blue eyes Weight• • 150 lbs. Height• • 6"0 Distinguishing Marks• • Scars lining most areas of his skin.
Everthing else• •
Give it to me, baby• •
- Weapons, especially guns - Killing - The color red - Cigarettes - His motorcycle
Give it away• • - The Bat Posse - Criminals, especially the Joker - School - Adults - Gotham
The Side I know is right• • Neutral
About me• • Even as a child, Jason Todd had a tendency towards recklessness and impulsiveness. To this day, he very much embodies those two traits. He will dive headfirst into something, without giving it much thought. Generally, Jason does not make plans very often. When he does, it means he has truly put his heart into something. It reveals the dedication he has towards that thing. When Jason is determined to do something, nothing will sway him. He is dedicated to that cause with every fiber of his being until he gets the result(s) for which he was intending. Unfortunately, Jason's recklessness, impulsiveness, and stubbornness make him extremely dangerous, both as the Red Hood and a normal civilian. Jason is dangerous and extremely violent. These two traits are only fueled by the grudges and the rage he harbors inside of him. Combined, his rage and his violence combine with his other traits to create a powerful but deadly being. Because he often holds grudges, Jason can be (and is, referencing his history) extremely vengeful. If someone wrongs him, Jason will injure and/or kill the person who did that wrong.
Jason's previous traits frequently chalk him up to being stoic and disregarding of life. He does not care what the means are, so long as they achieve a certain end. As the Red Hood, he wants to stop criminals. The best way to do that, he believes, is to kill them. Why not? The best way to get rid of a weed is to dig out its roots before it can grow back. He believes it is the only way to get the job done. As one might already suffice, Jason's beliefs and traits might ultimately make one assume that he is mentally unstable. This is an unknown but strongly concluded fact that some people around him have taken as truth. On top of so much negativity, Jason does have some good things about him. He is extremely intelligent, but he loathes standard education procedures (such as attending high school). He is funny, but his humor is often dry and frequently sarcastic. He disregards life, and he enjoys putting his own on the line. He can be found performing various stunts around Gotham in his non-Red Hood time. This daredevil gets a high from near-death experiences, another reason to assume that he is mentally unstable.
My Story• • Jason Todd was the only child of Willis and Catherine Todd. He was born and raised in Gotham City. His home was in Crime Alley, the same avenue where Bruce Wayne's parents were murdered. Catherine Todd was a young woman who had just lost her job. She was forty-years-old, an age that made employers reluctant to hire her. Catherine loved to work and was naturally distraught when she was laid off. Seeing no other alternative for her life, Catherine turned to drugs as an outlet. While his wife was unemployed, Willis Todd remained in the service of a mob boss in the Gotham Underground. While on a job for the boss, Willis disappeared and was never heard from again. Jason was melancholy at the news of his father's disappearance. Catherine Todd was left to care for Jason all on her own. Because of her unemployment, no income entered the Todd household. As a result, the Todds became poor. As a child, Jason frequently came upon thugs torturing and stealing from innocent people. During these times, Jason would feel a terrible rage balloon up inside of him. When Jason was eight, he came home from school to find his mother dead. The coroners informed Jason that his mother died from a drug overdose, a combination of drugs having been found in her system. Jason knew that would have been only a matter of time before Catherine had died fro her addiction. He knew that the ones responsible for Catherine's death were drug dealers. She would not have died if the dealers had not been there to sell her her drugs. Hate for the drug dealers permeated every fiber of Jason's being. With time, his rage only grew.
Now newly orphaned, Jason was placed into the Gotham City foster system. The boy did not like the foster system and ran away from his foster home within a week of being placed there. To survive, he stole various things and sold them until he had a stable sum of money. Jason became a skilled thief, picking things up from his fellow thugs. However, he watched as his fellow criminals One night he encountered a pale, middle-aged woman who walked down a street. Jason attempted to steal from her (and would have gotten away with it too), but the woman caught him. She was angry at first, but she was extremely impressed by his thievery. Before she had been adopted by the wealthy Charles Knight, she too had wandered the streets of Gotham as an orphan The woman, Natalia Knight, took in the young Jason and adopted him as her son. She revealed her secret identity to him as being Nocturna, Mistress of the Night. She offered the young Jason an opportunity to succeed her as a villain.
Jason, now ten, had seen more than his share of hardships. He was also filled with a rage at the injustice of his position. He believed that the Gotham City government should have done more to help him and to find his vanished father. He had viewed the thieves in Gotham, only trying to survive, being punished for crimes that should have been considered innocent. With much reason and rage behind his exterior, Jason eagerly accepted Natalia's opportunity. Over the course of five years, Natalia trained Jason. She placed him through severe and rigorous training. She taught him a variety of martial arts. She educated him in how to use his rage and use it as his ultimate weapon. She mentally challenged him in various other skills. While this training ensued, Jason's anger over the disappearance of his father caused him to eventually search for the man. After sifting through police records on Natalia's computer, he came upon the very mob boss for who Willis Todd worked. Underneath the boss's name was listed prosecution for the murder of Willis Todd. Uncovering this fact turned the tides for Jason's loyalty. Jason was convinced that no one could help Gotham. The criminals killed and stole while the heroes kept the criminals alive, allowing them to kill and steal even more. It was a never-ending cycle. He knew that the only solution would be to permanently rid Gotham of the criminals who tortured and killed innocent people. Jason Todd knew that he would be the one to do this.
Years passed; Jason found himself being passed from school to school. Jason was brilliant and extremely intelligent. He knew the curriculum he was taught at each school he attended. Unfortunately, the classroom never sat well with him. Eventually, Natalia enrolled him in a private school, which never worked out. Finally, she ended up placing Jason in public school. Wherever he went, Jason continued to see the injustice he so abhorred. Vengeance curdled in his soul like souring milk. Meanwhile, Natalia was convinced that Jason's formal training was coming to an end. She knew he would make a fine criminal and a worthy adversary to masked vigilantes everywhere. However, Jason's heart was in a different place, but he dared not inform Natalia of this. It was time for Jason to make his move. He handcrafted his own costume, a simple biker's outfit paired with a red container covering his face. Over his eyes under the container, he wore a black eye mask. It was then he became the Red Hood.
Jason Todd sought his revenge by delving into the Gotham Underground and killing the mob boss who killed his father. With a knife, Jason stabbed through the man's heart and tortured him with more and more stabs. Finally, after torturing the man to his pleasure, Jason killed the boss. His work was not finished. He began to work within the Underground, not as a criminal but as a sort of hero. He began to control Gotham's gangs and regulating the crime on the streets. Jason, as the Red Hood, killed all criminals in his way. Yet, Jason's violet methods instilled fear and order among the criminals. He allowed the streets to become safer, for which the citizens of Gotham were thankful. Alas, Jason's means of controlling crime were beginning to catch the eye of the elusive and mysterious Batman.
My creator is• • Evoblack
Posted: Mon Apr 07, 2014 6:36 pm
☾ Dr. Darius Reed ☾ Twenty-seven ☾ Human ☾ Male ☾ Heterosexual
I have 27 candles on my cake. I was raised to believe my humanity makes me superior. My past has made me who I am: As a child, Darius heard of the stories of the world outside of the dome. He was told that the air was toxic and nothing grew there. However, Darius was not too keen in believing the tales he was told. From watching the world around him, he easily concluded that life would find a way via adaptation (evolution). Why wouldn't the outside world be the same way? He dreamed to venture beyond the dome and prove that the Earth was not as deadly as society believed. With his ambition in hand, Darius majored in biology. After a long time spent in college, Darius finally graduated with his doctorate's in biology. He was twenty-six. When he left college, he was instantly recruited by a company, BioTech, that was developing improvements for the toxic world outside the dome. Darius knew it was the closest he would get to trekking outside (at least, until he had acquired enough money and resources to achieve his dream).
Love it or Hate it, I am who I am: Darius is not a very open person. He can come off as cold and strict at times. Sometimes he may not even realized that what he has said has hurt people. Darius only tells the truth and presents the facts as they are, a disadvantage of him being a scientist. However, there is a deeper part of him few people ever see. Very seldomly, Darius will open up to someone, who truly wants to hear his thoughts, and reveal what he has dreamed of forever. Yet, it is very rare to see Darius socializing with many people outside of his job. His work takes up much of his time, even his free time at home. As a result, Darius's social life is practically non-existent, save for his work relationships. Darius is completely fine with this development, but his closest friend Marcus is not as convinced.
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I really enjoy facts, animals, gardening, nature, science, Marcus, sweet foods/desserts, and the color green. I can't stand hypocrites, some humans, bullies, spicy foods, religion, neon colors, My needs must be met: It was not his idea. His colleague at BioTech and best friend, Marcus, convinced him (more like forced him) into going to buy one of the machines. Marcus's belief was that Darius's life was too consumed by his work and that Darius needed a social life. Darius does not see how cavorting with technology is "a social life."
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Do I need to tell you anything else? Glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. I almost forgot! I am defined as heterosexual This is who speaks for me: Evoblack
Evoblack
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Posted: Tue Apr 08, 2014 6:47 am
Dr. Darius Reed
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Man masters nature not by force but by understanding."
"Man masters nature not by force but by understanding."
---Jacob Bronowski---
There is much in life that is unexpected: the one hopeful bud of a dying plant; the outcomes of a seemingly failed experiment; and even the sweet taste of something that appears otherwise intimidatingly disgusting. Darius Reed was prepared for every one of those outcomes, because the unexpected was for what he lived. He was working contently in the lab of BioTech when Marcus came bouncing over to him. His shoulder-length golden blond hair swirled around him, as pretty and as graceful as a girl's hair. Marcus saw his friend Darius and plastered a huge smile from ear to ear upon his face.
"Darius," Marcus nearly squealed.
Darius was working on something that very moment. Specifically, it was a new growth factor for plants living in desert-like conditions. It was designed to aid the growth of plant life right outside of the dome. The man had his back turned to Marcus, but Darius heard everything his friend was saying.
"Darius," Marcus whispered.
The man ignored his friend. He lifted the beaker up to light to judge a chemical reaction. A change of color would signal a reaction had taken place. Marcus poked Darius in the spine.
"Darius." The poking rose higher and higher to the back of Darius's neck. "Daaaarrriuuussss."
Darius continued to ignore him. Even with his friend moving his body, Darius's hands were as steady as ever.
Marcus rested his hands on Darius's shoulders and leaned in to Darius's nape. His hot breath tickled the back of Darius's neck. It was then that Marcus licked the back of Darius's neck. Marcus's lips moved to Darius's ear. Only then did Darius respond. "What, Marcus?" Darius asked, irritated that his work had been interrupted.
Giggling delightedly, Marcus wrapped his arms around his friend's waist from behind. "You know, I noticed that you don't have much of a social life, Darius."
Darius placed the beaker into the beaker holder and rested his hands on the lab counter. "Not many people here do, Marcus." "Aw, c'mon! Even I have one. I have a few best girlfriends that I hang out with. Don't you wish you had someone like that?"
"Not at the moment," Darius muttered, shooting Marcus an annoyed look.
Marcus giggled harder. "You liar. Liar liar pants on fire. You love me, and you know it."
Darius glanced to the side and smirked. "Yeah, you're my best friend in the entire dome." "Your only friend," Marcus corrected. "Even your sarcasm tells the facts straight, Oh serious Darius." The blond clucked and squeezed Darius around the shoulders tighter. "Such a tease. You don't have a life." "I have one. I intend to--"
"--'go outside the dome and prove to everyone there is life there.'" Marcus rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You've told me that a thousand times already. When are you gonna..." He trailed off once he saw the dark expression come upon Darius's face.
To tell the truth, Darius was actually glowering at his friend. Marcus would have seriously stepped back if his intentions were not true. The blonde man decided to take Darius's look in stride. "Look, Darius," Marcus sighed, "I don't mean to disrespect your dream. Though, you seriously need to focus on something else than it. I have a dream! I want to become the CEO of this company, but I have hobbies, friends, other stuff to focus on." He turned Darius around to face him. Darius allowed this movement. "Please, Darius. For me?"
Marcus stuck out his bottom lip and pouted his usual adorable pout. Sighing, Darius pressed his fingers to his forehead. The onslaught of a headache was about to begin, but it was not physical. "Fine," he muttered. "What did you have in mind?" With Marcus, there was always an ulterior motive. His friend was not just one to say things but to actually do something following saying them. Marcus had something he wanted Darius to do.
Marcus grinned, winked, and rested a tanned finger over his lips. "Shh, it's a secret. You have to come with me to find out."
Darius groaned but nodded. "Let me clean up here, and we can leave in fifteen minutes."
_____
Marcus had taken Darius by the arm and was very enthusiastically dragging him down the sidewalk. People parted ways around the two friends. A few girls looked Marcus's way, noticing his gorgeousness. Marcus did not take notice of these looks. He was focused on leading Darius to his secret place (wherever it was). The entire time Darius held a bored and tortured look upon his face. There was no way he would have normally gone out so early, or even at all, after work. He would stay in the lab late into the night, completing his work as well as creating his own. The lab manager of BioTech had noticed Darius's proficiency in his work and allowed him to do his own research there. After he was finished for the night, Darius would return to his home, settle into the small makeshift lab in his basement, and continue his work there. Some nights he did not sleep, leading Marcus to believe that he was an insomniac. Darius did not consider himself one; instead, he considered himself so enthralled by the chance of discovery that he could not find sleep. His mind buzzed in the middle of the night and pushed him to keep going. At times, he even forgot to eat. Many times he would find himself passed out upon his seat or on the floor. It was rigorous but worthy work. Darius's heart raced at the thought of it.
"Marcus, are we there yet?"
His friend giggled maniacally. "Almost. We're really close..." They turned a corner, where Marcus promptly stopped. Darius nearly toppled over from the sudden stop. "We're heeeerreeee!"
"Marcus, seriously you need to watch we're you're going." He adjusted his glasses on the brim of his nose. Then, he looked at where Marcus's gaze lead. "Oh God, you can't be serious." Welcome to Electro-Persa-Tron Inc. Store! Celebrating 100 years of customer service!
Darius glowered over at Marcus, who only smiled brightly back at him. "This is NOT a social life," Darius spat. "This is technology, a poor simulation of life."
The young man promptly turned around to walk away, but he was jerked back. Darius looked over to see his arm having been caught by Marcus. A mischievous glint shone in the corner of Marcus's eye. "You won't know until you try. I have one and he's totally yummy." Darius's face hardened into stone. "Aw, c'mon, brother! You've gotta have some fun sooner or later. It's just a machine. Just...come in with me and look around. Please?" "Fine. I'm not buying anything, just looking around. Got it?"
"Good enough for me!"
With that, Marcus gleefully dragged his friend into the store. Darius's first impression was that he and Marcus were the only guys there. Most of the store was stuffed to the brim with girls, the brunt of them either giggling school girls or lonely older women. Here and there Darius eventually caught sight of a few men glancing at some of the models to the side. Dread crawled deep into the pit of Darius's stomach and settled in there quite nicely. Marcus broke off from him to look at some gorgeous new models. From what Darius gathered, many of the dolls were created along various stereotypes: the bad person, the good person, the innocent person, the seductive person, etc. They were fairly obvious, along with their obvious beauty. It was like consuming processed candy versus whole foods; the former provided momentary, superficial satisfaction while the latter appeared unsavory but was actually more satisfying. Perhaps the models were designed along that premise. However, Darius did not enjoy things that were only meant for momentary satisfaction. He wanted to enjoy looking at things day after day, not for just an hour.
As Marcus drooled over the latest models, Darius slipped away to the side where the sale dolls resided. Fewer people lingered to the sides, leaving Darius in semi-peace for the moment. Out of curiosity (and boredom), he found himself browsing few the various dolls. Some called out greetings to him while others blinked and waved. He acknowledged none of them; they were, after all, machines. Then, he came to one in obvious view of the store, yet she still appeared rather secluded from the other sale dolls. She was different from the other dolls. Her coloring was subtle but lovely. Hair of burnt sunset orange cascaded down her shoulders. Pale skin glowed where the sun hit her through the window. Most of all, the doll was marvelously well-kept: no wrinkles in her clothing; neatly, beautifully arranged hair; among other things. It was amazing that she seemed real; technology certainly had progressed.
Darius crossed his arms, standing in front of the sitting doll, and just thought. All those nights when he forgot to eat or sleep. All those times he meant to clean his small house. All those many days where he did not feel like grocery shopping. Were not these dolls meant to serve their owners? Not just in lust or love, but also in services? He had frequently seen them about, with families and with children. Often, he saw them caring for their households. A doll could be helpful to him. He found himself nodding at his logical train of thought.
➔ Location: On the street xxxxxxxxxxx ➔ Musings: "This is pure torture."xxxxxxxxxxx ➔ With: Marcusxxxxxxxxxxx ➔ Doll: N/A
Here, give a brief explanation about how your character feels about this situation. Are they a witch and they feel threatened? Are they a resident and are afraid? Please have two or three sentences here. Played by Evoblack
☆personality- - - Calin Amanar is an intelligent young man. He is very charming. He is able to persuade people to see his side. Determination fuels his actions, as he nearly always gets what he wants. He is not cold to the suffering of others. Yet, he is able to greatly distance himself from sympathizing. He views his actions to be righteous justice exerted on those deserving of it. He sees the entire human race as a whole being that has failed him from the start. Thus, he feels the need to purge them of their existence. He wants the earth to start afresh with a new race, created by himself. Calin possesses great maturity, but he can be very passionate. His passion prompts him to do awesome acts, most resulting in violence and death. However, he also has great patience. He can wait an eternity to be able to rid humanity.
☆biography- - - Born in 1531, Calin was the son of a young woman named Imani. Imani was a girl transported from Africa to serve a Translyvanian household. Naturally, she was a pretty girl, but she had nothing to her name than the title of "slave." The family that she worked for was a lordship. She toiled and served the family as best she could. Alas, she could never truly please them. Every time she entered a room, the members of the family looked upon her with great loathing. Whispers floated behind doors, many of which Imani heard. Others said she was dirty, a heathen! why was she even there? She was a disgrace to man! Perhaps she was of lower attention. Imani never spoke to these people, but she heard everything they said. It hurt her; she never responded to their words. One day Imani received attention from a wealthy European man. His mother and the man had a brief affair before they parted ways. The result of this union was Calin. With a son in her care, Imani's life was made more difficult. Regardless, she remained in high spirits for her son.
Throughout his life, Calin would experience extreme prejudice. His dark skin color and his African heritage set him apart from other people. To his face, other people ridiculed and mocked him. His mother taught him to bite his tongue and ignore it. Regardless, it built up a hateful and vengeful fire within him. When he was twelve, Calin got into a fight with a peasant's son. The son taunted Calin because of his heritage. Calin became angrier and angrier until he pointed a finger at the boy. Suddenly, the boy went flying into a house. The boy's bones were broken, but he was unharmed. At other times, Calin exhibited instances of moving objects and broken trinkets whenever he was upset. Sometimes he found chores to be done on their own. Unbeknowst to Calin, his father was a warlock. The man's power passed itself onto Calin. He did not know what was happening to him; he believed himself possessed by Satan. Really, his power had awakened at the onset of puberty.
Imani urged Calin to keep his power secret. Calin had no qualms about this. Indeed, he believed himself to be spawn of the Devil. At fifteen, a group of entertainers entered Transylvania. They visited and entertained the family of the lord. One of the group, an old man, heard of the strange details surrounding Calin's youth. The old man came to the boy and introduced himself as a warlock. At first, Calin was suspicious, but the man attempted to convince him. The old man performed a spell that turned a handful of straw into a bouquet of wildflowers. Calin realized that they were the real deal. He joined them and trained with them. Doing such, the young boy left his mother and the family he served to travel with the entertainers to perform magic tricks. The old man, his name Bartholomew, taught Calin the rules and the limitations of magical power. For ten years, Calin trained with this group.
Alas, Calin questioned forbidden things and teased into their depths. It was not long before he ventured into the dark arts. His mentor tried to shake him of the obsession, but his tries were to no avail. Calin's mind was full of rage and hate. He hated humans for the way they had treated him. His power grew as he formed his magic to the dark arts. Soon he began killing people to use their body parts in his dark ways. He returned to Transylvania and killed the lord's family. From there, he claimed the castle as his own.
Calin's goal was to create a new race, one better than humanity. His fellow warlocks tried to stop him, but he killed them and used their parts. His magic grew to tremendous heights. People were scared of Calin. His hatred fueled his power. Hunters battled the warlock and killed him. His body was burned and his spirit trapped within a Japanese puzzle box. This box was left inside his castle to rot for all time. The hunters erected a magical barrier around the castle. It was strong enough so that no one would accidentally stumble upon it. Only an exceptionally powerful warlock could undo the barrier. One day, a witch came across his box and released him. Since then, he has been killing hunters to satisfy his hatred and to teach the witch his dark arts. His first goal is to achieve a corporeal body. From there, Calin desires to create a new race to populate the earth. To do this, he would first destroy all of mankind.
☆likes- - - Magic, power, simplicity, the supernatural world, books, violence, and socialization.
☆dislikes- - - Rich people, hunters, the white-skinned, humanity, his human side, good people, and puzzle boxes.
☆personality- - - Raven Black has pretty much always felt like an outcast. She shared no interests with her peers throughout elementary and middle school. Thus, she is a little quiet and withdrawn when one talks to her. Of course, she is a perfectly friendly person on the inside. Once one gets her talking, it's almost impossible to get her to stop. She just needs people who are interested in what she likes.
This teenager has always been top of her class. Raven loves to learn new things and likes a challenge, though that doesn't mean she enjoys the subject. Like math. Of course, she gets through it for the sake of herself, her future, and, especially, her parents. Raven lives to make them proud, which she does on a regular basis. Also, she seems a lot darker than people would give her credit for.
☆biography- - - Raven Black grew up living in the town of St. John, Wisconsin, a little dusting of civilization on the outskirts of Wickwood Institution's gargantuan acres of land. There were whispers about the place, ghost stories told around the fires as children, but the stories were nothing solid and they had no evidence. Even the adults warned their curious children away from the manor. In a town of approximately three hundred people or so, Raven found it hard to fit in with the other kids her age. She had different interests from them and found it difficult to make friends. Unfortunately, the only things that kept Raven from going crazy were reading and writing. She wrote down her feelings and happenings in poem form in a notebook she always kept with her.
Once she hit puberty, Raven's body developed well. She was blessed with few pimples, a slim body, and fairly pretty features (in her opinion). Her silver gray eyes matched those of her mother and her black hair was entirely her father's. Her pale skin was all her own. Raven quickly adjusted to being an outcast, although friendly to any person who encountered her, and dressed in dark colors, later to be gothic clothing. After her second year in public high school, Raven found out that she had won a scholarship to the Wickwood Institution. She was extremely ecstatic to have an excuse to check the place out, not to mention she had heard about their phenomenal education. Her parents, gleeful with the news, immediately send her off straight away with the highest of hopes that she would excel and rise beyond their small town.
☆likes- - - Raven's favorite things to do are reading, writing, listening to music, and learning new things. Her absolute favorite foods include her major addiction of chocolate, ice cream, salmon, cheese, and fruits and vegetables. Her most favorite things in the world are books, fountain pens, art, poetry, the Internet, silence, gothic clothing, and mythology.
☆dislikes- - - Raven's list of absolutely loathed activities include being around fake people, listening to screamo and country music, being alone, reading books that bore her, and other miscellaneous things. The foods she dislikes are soda, non-flavored yogurt, beef, tater tots, her old school's cafeteria chicken patty, and other stuff that she can't remember at the moment. Her most hated things in the world include underdeveloped plots in books, bare decoration, winter days, and tension.
☆height- - - 5"6
☆weight- - - 136 lbs.
☆- - - the h e r o i n e/ h e r o
☆my hallucinations- - - Let's see who catches her fancy first.
☆age- - - Four hundred and fifty-eight (appears to be fifteen)
☆gender- - - Female
☆species- - - Vampire
☆preference- - - Guys for breakfast, lunch, and dinner
☆theme- - - Uprising ~ Muse
☆birthday- - - December 21, 1537
☆- - - the i d e n t i t y
☆personality- - - When she was alive, Angelique was a sweet, bright, creative girl. Although she was poor, she attempted to learn by retrieving discarded books and papers from the trash of the rich and wandering the marketplace to observe the painters. From this, she learned how to read and how to paint. After she was turned by her sire, her sire twisted her mind into an ugly version of what it once was. Angelique was reluctant to trust anyone other than her sire and her coven. She became a bloodthirsty monster using her innocent appearance to hunt down human beings for her meals. If she became bored, she would sometimes kill people for fun. When her coven arrived to the New World, Angelique broke away from them and fended for herself. She no longer trusted any being but herself.
☆biography- - - Angelique began her life in the poorest part of Paris, France, in the midst of a renaissance that was sweeping the continent. Her parents were, of course, deathly poor. As she was growing up, she and her younger sister helped them to make money by learning how to stitch and weave and sew all different kinds of trinkets together. Sometimes she wandered into the richer part of the city and walked among the vendors in Paris's huge marketplace. She came upon the art of the Renaissance and drank in every detail every piece. It wasn't long before she began gathering makeshift painting supplies and trying it herself. One night in the dark of winter her sister became sick with smallpox. Her parents, desperate not to lose their beloved daughter, sent the fifteen-year-old Angelique out to retrieve the nearest doctor. But she never made it to the doctor. Angelique was kidnapped and blindfolded and led to a cold, dark place where she was mercilessly tortured, often chained to the wall, until she was finally weakened and changed into a vampire by her sire.
At first, Angelique resisted her sire. She tried to get back home and tell her parents that she was still alive. When she arrived there, she found them burying her sister and placing a stone up for her next to her sister's. Distraught, the young Angelique tromped back to her sire and declared herself to him. Eagerly, the psychotic man took her under his wing and made her his acolyte. Together they formed a powerful coven of ten vampires. Soon Angelique's mind became twisted and gnarled, nearly as psychotic as her sire's. She became ruthless about killing humans, which was easy with her innocent, youthful appearance. The coven eagerly fed upon the victims of the Black Plague.
Just as the coven grew bored with Europe and the Plague, the New World was declared open for settlement. Their coven moved to North America. But Angelique grew tired of hunting together with her coven and separated from them after the end of the voyage. She dove deep into the untamed wilderness until she reached what is now the state of California. She moved north and settled in the Washington area, spending most of her time brutally terrorizing and killing the Native Americans living there. Otherwise, Angelique kept herself in isolation away from human civilization. Centuries later, when Amherst made its home there, Angelique enrolled as one of the first students. She learned about the human culture and trends and ways to blend in to entice prey to her.
☆likes- - - Even after she was changed, Angelique retained many of her interests. She loves to read and to paint, and she got better at both day-by-day. The hunt is her specialty, especially if it involves people. As much as she doesn't care for humans, she still loves food, which she eats on occasion, such as cupcakes, dark chocolate, ice cream, and (her newest favorite) milkshakes. She loves the sweet, sweet taste of blood and the deep color of red. She craves running and jumping and the power and strength of being a predator.
☆dislikes- - - Although many of her likes haven't changed, Angelique's long list of dislikes have exponentially increased. She loathes the stuck-up snobbishness of rich people and others who are all the way at the top. She hates losing prey, especially to another vampire. She dislikes cold blood and old blood from older humans. She has always hated her sire straight to the depths of her marrow and has always longed to kill him. Angelique hates to share her food.
☆height- - - 5"5
☆weight- - - 115 lbs.
☆- - - the r e a l fangs
☆i wanna sink into - - - A nice'n tasty human morsel...yummy.
☆personality- - - Though she may seem like just a pretty face on the outside, Esther is a lot more than she seems. Despite her origins as a slave, Esther is anything but obedient. She loathes being under someone else's control, and she would only stay under that control if she had no other choice. When it comes to making decisions, Esther usually picks the side she favors and stands beside it. It is extremely rare that she sways for anybody. From her two younger brothers, Esther learned extreme patience and developed a headstrong attitude and maturity that continues to manifest itself.
Since she became an immortal, very few things matter to Esther anymore. The things that she deems most important are family, strength, and determination. Esther has seen many things throughout her hundred years of living. The lot of them have aged her beyond the sixteen years in which she was frozen. Enduring slavery and the American Civil War were two of the major players. The Civil Rights Movement was another player. Those things filled her with pain and with hope.
☆biography- - - Ever since she could remember, the entire lineage of her family consisted of slaves. Her parents could not remember where in Africa their family originated. Though, her parents boasted amongst themselves that they were descended from royalty. Whether or not that was true, Esther never was able to find out. Esther was born to slave parents on a plantation in Georgia. When Esther was old enough, she went out into the fields and helped her parents to harvest cotton. It was there she witnessed a most unimaginable crime: inhumanity. The white men who owned the plantation's slaves had hired men to watch over the slaves and keep them in check. Unfortunately, the men did not care for the slaves. For any little thing the slaves did wrong, the men beat them. Sometimes the men beat them for their own twisted amusement. Her heart was torn into two when she saw her parents beaten. A flame burned in her body at that sight. Though she quickly learned to bring no attention to herself, Esther could not deny her anger at the men for their treatment of the slaves.
As time passed, Esther went from being an only child to the older sister of two younger siblings. The two boys--Elijah (thirteen) and Daniel (ten)--were often two rowdy troublemakers. Esther's father was gentle with them; they took advantage of him. On the other hand, Esther's mother was resolute against their rowdiness. Nothing could sway the older woman. In her dealings with them, Esther was very much the same as her mother. Through her brothers, Esther developed a mature and resolute mentality at a very young age. This mentality would stay with her through the rest of her life.
At the age of thirteen, Esther's father sneaked Esther some books and was taught to read and to write. The man believed the importance of thought. Esther's mother did not believe in what her husband did and condemned the practice of reading and writing. So, Esther and her father had their lessons late into the night, learning by candlelight. Esther wondered where her father had learned his skills; he told her that he had been taught by a wonderful man. The man, he told Esther, was a slave like them, but he had been freed. He housed, cared for, and taught slaves, especially runaway slaves, of education and thought. Through her rudimentary education, the first vestiges of thought hovered in her mind and stuck there for the longest time. A question lingered: What was right? What was her position?
At sixteen, Esther had thought of much of the world. She came to the quick conclusion that where she was in life was wrong. The Declaration of Independence taught her family that all men were created equal. If that was so, then why were Africans slaves and white folks free? Could it not be the same for everyone? At the same time, her father posed the issue of freedom to their family. Their family could runaway to the North and be free! There they could be as equal as the white folk. Esther nodded but her mother dissented; if they were caught, they would be killed or sold to a worse place. It was better to stay where they were. Esther, headstrong as she was, spoke up and sided with her father. Much fuss and muss was made about the subject, but the family finally agreed that running away was the final decision.
Under the cover of a moonless night, Esther's family set out for freedom. They knew well the risks of wanting freedom. Esther truly understood the risk they were taking. Esther could die at any point. Sneaking through the night, Esther and her family met up with the free slave her father had talked about. The slave's name was Jeremiah and was as old as her father. He spoke to them of an underground railroad that would lead them to freedom. As Jeremiah led them to the underground railroad, he stopped the family and listened. The sound of dogs in the distance alerted him; Esther's family had been discovered missing. Hurriedly, the family rushed toward the railroad. Esther's mother and father made it inside the railroad with Jeremiah. Unfortunately, Esther, Daniel, and Elijah hadn't made it inside by the time the three riders reached them. Esther pushed her brothers back behind her to protect them. The three riders surrounded the three and wrestled with Esther. She prompted her brothers to escape. The two brothers hesitated, but they followed Esther's directions when she shrieked at them. Esther fought with all her will, the gathered strength from years of farm labor winning out, when the riders gasped. One of them fell on top of Esther, and Esther was knocked unconscious.
When Esther awoke, she felt a deep, throbbing pain originating from her neck. Simultaneously, she felt her body burn as with fever. she desperately wanted to escape the pain and the heat, but Esther couldn't move. she was chained to the wall of a dirty cellar. As she struggled, she became aware of a pair of yellow eyes watching her from the shadows. Esther gasped and struggled against the chains even more. Alas, her tries were to of no avail; the chains proved to be stronger than she. The yellow eyes approached her from the shadows and into the light. There appeared a beautiful woman. The woman with the yellow eyes was dressed out of the era. Esther knew the style was of an older era. Unfortunately, Esther wasn't educated enough to place the era of the woman's clothing style. Thus, Esther was left to wonder what kind of creature the woman was and exactly how old she was.
Later, Esther learned that the woman was her sire and her mistress. At the same time, Esther discovered that she was no longer human. Esther had been transformed into a vampire. The woman--Elizabeth--had taken pity on Esther and decided to change her. Then, Elizabeth's intent was to make Esther her eternal slave. Elizabeth reasoned with Esther that Esther would be much better off with her. Esther spat in the woman's face and growled her dissent. In turn, Elizabeth smiled patiently and grasped Esther by the throat, physically threatening to break her neck. Esther knew that the woman was more powerful than she, and Esther would never be able to escape her. So, Esther reluctantly accepted her position. Though she was weak, Esther vowed to become stronger than Elizabeth and to escape to search for her family.
A century later, Esther escaped her mistress and trekked across the country into Wickwood, Wisconsin. There she attended Wickwood Academy in the guise of a student to hide from Elizabeth.
☆likes- - - Family, loyalty, strength, freedom, education, and hard work.
☆personality- - - There's not much to say about Amelia. She's not a complicated person and loves simple things. She finds the beauty in the smallest things everywhere. She's protective of her friends and will openly stand up for them. She knows that she's not beautiful, but Amelia makes up for it in intelligence. She makes her parents proud by doing well in all the schools she has attended. Though she doesn't want to be a ballerina, Amelia can't deny her love for dance. She loves the flow of moving her body; she inherited her potent grace from her mother.
☆biography- - - Amelia Dunne was born to an American upper class family in New York City, New York. Her mother was a retired professional ballet dancer teaching ballet at her studio. Her father was an investor in the stock market on Wall street. Ever since she was little, she had been going to the best private schools that her parents were able to afford. Though public was cheaper, they believed it "beneath them" for their daughter to go there among the "cheap" masses. Her mother, Alana Ludwell-Dunne, taught her daughter ballet since she was three. About the age of ten or so, Amelia decided that she wanted to be a photographer for a living. She loved taking pictures ever since she saw a camera and begged for it for Christmas from her father.
When her parents couldn't find a high school they liked for their daughter, they sent her to Wickwood Academy in Wisconsin. Granted it was a drive, but she would be staying there for the entire year. Amelia didn't mind. It meant she was absolved from the pressures of becoming a ballerina. Her mother didn't approve of her idea of being a photographer for a living. However, her father openly supported her passion. Thus, Amelia was producing top-quality photos by the age of fourteen. She found that she enjoyed Wickwood and was there ever since.
☆likes- - - Photography, looking at pictures, ballet, dancing, fun, reading, dreaming, simple things, and wishing.
☆dislikes- - - Ruined photos, assholes, bitches, stupid people, losing my glasses, complication, and cities.
☆height- - - 5"5
☆weight- - - 130 lbs.
☆- - - the h e r o i n e/ h e r o
☆my hallucinations- - - Sorry, but I'm not dating.
☆behind the insanity - - xXHiddenXTearsXx [evoblack character]
☆personality- - - In the beginning, Sebastian Thomas Moore was a kindhearted and a passionate young man. He was strong and lived up to the name of knight, given to him at quite a young age. He worked hard and climbed the ladder to get what he deserved. He was proud of himself and knew that he was prestigious.
Now Sebastian is a bloodthirsty killer, no lie. His mind was warped by being a vampire and the torture and bloodshed he had seen on the battlefield. He enjoys death, killing, and watching others suffer. He Sebastian has much patience, a passionate and often cold temper, and is quite intelligent. His mind is sometimes complex and other times quite simple in its planning. He enjoys the demise of mortals to his coven.
☆biography- - - Sebastian Thomas Moore was born in ancient Great Britain in the eleventh century. During that time, the Byzantine Empire was spreading Christianity across Europe, Africa, and Asia. Sebastian's parents had been strict pagans before their conversion to the strange religion of Christianity. Once they became Christians, however, they continued to keep many of their pagan beliefs. Like his parents, Sebastian believed strictly in his religion. Only he considered his religion to be Christianity. As a boy, Sebastian overheard the rumors of conflict in the Holy Land. Becoming a man, the First Crusade launched. Immediately Sebastian joined and devoted his life to being a knight.
The journey to the Holy Land was long and arduous. He was adamant about destroying the Muslims and regaining Christ's empire. Once he got there, he trained and fought with all his strength and passion for what he believed in. Unfortunately, Sebastian was not prepared for what he was to see on the battlefield. Both Muslims and Christians were mercilessly slaughtered on either side. There was no end to the bloodshed. Sebastian knew that he was standing up for what he believed in, but he knew that he couldn't kill like that. Instead of fighting, Sebastian fell onto his knees in the middle of the battlefield. A spear sunk into his chest and he fell to the ground. In the cool of the night, something took him and bit into him. It was breathing hard and fell down dead beside him. Sebastian knew that he was supposed to have died. Alas, he woke up the next day, alive and fine. Unfortunately, the First Crusade had warped his mind.
Continuously, images of blood, torture, and fallen and broken bodies flitted through his mind. Inevitably, his hunger grew. He realized that his deep thirst was for blood. He drank and killed in the battlefields. His thirst was never sated and he drank more and more, slowly to watch his victims suffer. Throughout the Crusades, Sebastian followed this pattern. For four hundred years, Sebastian fed off of the remnants of war and the battlefield. He realized that he loved to torture and see his victims suffer. The once passionate and kindhearted young man of eighteen had been transformed into a complete monster.
Finally tired of being alone, Sebastian traveled to France and formed a coven there. He changed and gathered several bloodthirsty monsters like himself. He was their leader. He kept them alive and tortured them mercilessly when they did even one thing out of line. Sebastian went so far as to kill when the mood struck him. His fellows were horrified by him and learned to obey his orders. Over the next few centuries, Sebastian's coven grew and traveled to Great Britain. From there, they sailed across the sea to inhabit the New World. There they settled themselves and have lurked ever since.
☆biography- - - A woman’s groans could be heard through out the house. Slowly those groan’s turned into yells of pain and strain. Soon, an infant’s cries replaced those yells. Akira Takari was born…amidst a handful of nurses and a family doctor. He was taken to be washed then handed to a maid to be fed. His mother needed rest. And where was his father? Sitting in the office of their rather large house working. He didn’t seem to care that his third son was being born.
This was kind of how the rest of his life went as well. His parents were wealthy. His father owned a successful business company, one of the largest in Japan. His mother was a well-known actress. Beautiful but very vain. Akira’s household was devoid of love and instead was replaced with harsh words and high standards. He was punished if he got less than perfect grades in school.
Among his parents, Akira also has two older brothers. Both were years older than he. Both highly successful and only to them has his father shown favor. Every night at dinner, his father would ask them about their studies, praise them when they reported fantastic grades. To his father, his brothers could do no wrong. The oldest, Takashi, was a highly gifted student. Very intelligent, schoolwork was a breeze for him. He was on the fast track to getting into the best medical school in the country. The other, Katsuro, was as gifted with business as his father. Katsuro always worked closely with his father, who mentored him through the workings of his business. It was always assumed that the second son would inherit the business when their father past on. It was these siblings that made his life worth living.
His siblings were everything to him. They were always encouraging him, helping him out in anyway that they could. Even though their father disapproved, he thought that it built character having to learn to do things by yourself. Because in the real world, Akira’s father always said you had no one but yourself to fall back on. His brothers’ disagreed. So long as they were alive, Akira had them to fall back on. They would fight on his behalf to help show that he did indeed have worth. This resulting in many yelling matches between them and their father.
Despite this Akira was constantly stressed. Though he would never let it show. He would never let his brother’s know just how much it bothered him that they had to fight just so his father would look at him. He continued to smile.
Soon enough, his brothers moved on to bigger and better things. But each time before they left, they spoke to their father one last time. Akira was called into the room where they spoke afterwards. There in the room sat his father surrounded by white sheet of paper. His father looked up at him. A look of remorse was clear on his face. He apologized. For all the years he had disregarded his son, his wonderful and talented son. Akira was so relieved. Even his mother started to warm up to him. He was ten years old. Life couldn’t have been more perfect.
Soon though his parents heard of a rather prestigious boarding school in America. They thought it would be a great opportunity for him. He was a bit hesitant about it considering how far he would be from his family, but after much deliberation and encouragement from his elder brothers, Akira decided it would be fun! He’s looking forward to starting at Wickwood and hopefully bringing even more pride to his new, loving family.
☆likes- - - Video games, computers, technology, designing, online role playing games, Lindsey Stirling, and teddy bears, comics.
