Post by daesiggil on Mar 29, 2009 11:15:39 GMT -5
Name: Zephyr (Zephy for the 'friends')
Age: 22
Race: Human
Appearance: Zephyr is a large male about 5”9’ and weighing a good but little 160 pounds. He’s tall and slender, yet he’s bony and skinny with long jet-black hair that is uneven at the end, only tied back, and made manageable, by a leather grey string in a ponytail and the lowest parts stopping at the end of the shoulder blades. His bangs hang usually in front of his features, having escaped the ponytail and shadows his whole pale looking face, except for his chin. His eyes are a light blue color and are either cold, the most general look, or gleaming with a cruel delight as he forces someone in an uncomfortable position, either strangling the males in a rather sadistic mood or forcing a woman to pleasure him, his features itself are sharp and give him a harsh or strict demeanor to him. His mouth is thin and the upper lip is a little bow-shaped, his voice is surprisingly smooth, like silk, but none could deny the edge to it when he wants it to be there. His fingers are thin and long, ready to wrap around someone in an instant with no regret or a sign that he hesitates. As said he seems weak but don’t let this fool you, he has a surprisingly strength in those limbs. He’s very silent when he moves around, giving him some profit of sneaking around without being noticed, he uses this mostly if he visits the women. He feels most comfortable in dark colors, helping him with sneaking around, only carrying some colors, even then mostly dark browns and greens, if he goes outside to explore, His skin because it’s pale, burns easily as it doesn’t seem used to the warmth. Even with his too skinny and bony look he wears rather tight clothes that show off to the others his little amount of muscle he could gather, making him rather appealing to the opposite sex.
Personality: There isn’t much said about him, only that he’s sadistic and very cruel, seeming twisted along with it. He doesn’t mind at all to hurt another being, mostly humans, not at all, even more if the people remind him of his demons, his father and brother, he wishes them all dead like the lowly creatures they are, deserve. Always finding new ways to torture them. Only when it comes to the kitten he had saved, he’s very protective, he came to be like this of the years of abuse he had to endure of his family. The only people he doesn’t seem to hate are the girls and women there, he sees them as objects he can bed whenever he pleases and toss away when he becomes tired of them. He doesn’t have any friends, nearly none as he prefers to be alone most of the time, only allowing the kitten, named kitty, that wouldn’t leave otherwise, to stay as it doesn’t talk almost seeming like a mute cat, just places itself in his lap or by his feet. He doesn’t avoid fights but he never would seek them on purpose, he also never would start them so that he can avoid getting the finger pointed at and getting some kind of punishment. If he’s sick of everything happening around him, he walks outside and will gaze at the star filled night-sky breathing in the fresh air, allowing him to relax outwardly, although he never will allow himself to relax inside. Many people call him antisocial and he is, no much doubt about it. Because of his antisocial nature he’s very silent and seems withdrawn and shy, but if one catches him unaware of staring at someone, they could see the hate burning, although being silent has also has it advantages. Unthanks his seemingly hate for everything he talks to the few friends he managed to gather, he sometimes play out the roll of ‘shy’ person very well, in reality, if what happened didn’t happen he would have been, some even found him pretty nice, once or twice a person could see the child inside him, reaching out to someone for protection, for comfort, for everything he was denied. He doesn’t like changing things very much, but he will adapt to it eventually.
History: Zephyr was the youngest out of four. His parents, and older male sibling living in one of the little shattered homes in the surrounding areas of the city. His family looked happy, although father and brother took a delight in beating Zephyr and his mother, his father more in a drunken rage, he had started this habit when he had heard his wife couldn’t bear more children because of Zephyr, or so he thinks. His father was a blacksmith, before he retired because of an accident with the iron, resulting in third degree burns and one dead man. His brother just went along, his tasks was doing the small jobs in and around the house, he was just as sadistic as his father but he was clear and not drunk. Zephyr later heard out of his own father’s mouth that he hoped he would kill the boy. Zephyr only really felt love for his mother, a housewife. although he had to admit to his own shame that he, just like his father and brother, also saw her as an object, the result of hearing that she was worth nothing and that he (his father) needed to get rid of her also and she also did beat him, but to a lesser extend than his father and brother did and more out of frustration because she was beated herself. Later they would find more manners to torture him; denying food, hot pokers. He learned so to hide his emotions from an early age, knowing that they only would beat him harder to see the same reaction over and over, although, it didn’t seem to stop them having the opposite reaction it seemed, they beated him harder trying to get some kind of reaction out of him this time. One day, when his father in a real bad fit of drunk rage tried to rape the boy, and his mother stood up in a fit of ‘love’ and saved him, taking his beating upon her.
He grew more bitter towards them and retreaded even further into himself. His heart and mind seemed to snap and he became angry enough that he would have killed them, just as his father, with the help of his brother who was slightly unwillingly, killed his mother, but when it went away and when he saw them unconscious on the floor he let out a strangled gasp and fled the house, leaving everything behind, from his clothes, to his memories and to his demons, not willing to see his dead mother on the ground every time he looked at that spot on the floor. He didn’t know what he had to do anymore and where he had to go. He stumbled only by luck across a village and entered it, only to hear a strangled scream that couldn’t belong to a human, fearing for the being’s live as he didn’t want it to experience what he had to go through the abuse (he heard it in the scream, years of experience he calls it) he had suffered, raced towards the sound. He found a group of older and local boys of the town torturing a small kitten, making his anger spark again as it still howled its pain towards the skies, he attacked them without hesitation in a brave but weird moment of courage; and with his wit and still small posture he managed to chase them from the kitten, earning himself some small scratches and bruises, picking it up and petting it. He noticing it flinch every time he did so, he decided to take it with him and named it Kitty, planning to change it later to make it easier, the feline responded fine to it and the name kind of stuck, soon enough they became a ‘team’ none could be found without the other, even in water.
Roleplaying example: (from another site with a similiar character) He didn't know what he was doing here, nor did he knew what had happened to the body in front of him. He gazed at his hands, pale with faint dots of red, blood of his own under his own skin or the corpse's blood on his hands? He couldn't make sure in this darkness. He looks around quickly, hoping that no one did see him, when he was sure none did he hurried away from the scene. Oh, of course he had carried the body a little away so that it wouldn't be noticed instantly, the kitten like always was seated on his shoulder, it's tiny tail weaving in a random patron. He pulled the scarf tighter around his neck to keep most of the humidity out and the warmth. Although, judging by his clothes he rather liked the warmth as he was dressed in concealing clothes, meaning that none could see an ounce of flesh on his arms or legs. One could still see the shifting muscles though.
He laughed lightly, rather hysteric, and leaned against the wall "What happened, Kitty?" He whispered lightly, still staring at his hands, suddenly noticing that the dots of red he noticed early weren’t from him. He groans lightly and then pauses, raising his hand to his mouth as if he wanted to lick the blood off, but then dropped it quickly with a disgusted glance. The small kitten nuzzled his cheek for a moment and made a small mewl, he turns his gaze to the feline and smiles "Was it that again?" It mewled softly again and he shakes his head, plucking it from his shoulder and cuddling it close, seeking comfort in the warm, but small body "I wouldn't know what to do without you Kitty.." He murmurs, looking around more, one arm loosening it's grip to push the bangs away for once, so he could get a better sight and that no one would sneak up on him. He hated when that happened.
His eyes unwillingly turned to the direction to the corpse again, the last that tried to sneak upon him laid there, mangled he had to admit. He breathes in, smelling the blood again, almost making him dizzy with what seemed lust and desire. His lips part and his tongue darts out to wet them. The kitten mewled again, snapping him out of the daze and he looked at it "Yes, I should wash my hands, hmm?" He turns and walks to one of the water sources, not wanting to stain the dark clothes more with them.
He whistles and stops when he finds water, dipping his hands into it and rubs them together almost roughly; flexing his long, thin fingers. The same fingers that took that live with ease, he feels a shiver run over his spine, although he doesn't know from what. He gasps and turns to the kitten, suddenly worried "What should we do with the body?" He asks it anew, expecting an answer it seemed "We just can't let it lie around like that.." He breathed out for a moment, then a lamp seemed to burn and he pushed himself upright "I know it!" He nearly yelled and ran back.
He fell on his knees next to the corpse and felt its throat "He's dead.." He gasped out loud, hoping that anyone would hear and free him from any suspicion "Help!" He yelled out loud now "There is someone murdered!" He looks around "I.. There is a body here!" He bites his lip, making it tremble "I.. What happened?" He whispers, forcing tears to fall from his eyes, taking the corpse in his arms, cradling it, feeling inwardly disgusted with it "Oohh, what happened to you?" He moans now, placing his forehead against the corpse's bloodied one. Not once he denied he wasn’t a good actor.
How did you find us? From a random site I stumbled upon, they had this site's banner/button up, I clicky, I likey and the rest you know? XD
Age: 22
Race: Human
Appearance: Zephyr is a large male about 5”9’ and weighing a good but little 160 pounds. He’s tall and slender, yet he’s bony and skinny with long jet-black hair that is uneven at the end, only tied back, and made manageable, by a leather grey string in a ponytail and the lowest parts stopping at the end of the shoulder blades. His bangs hang usually in front of his features, having escaped the ponytail and shadows his whole pale looking face, except for his chin. His eyes are a light blue color and are either cold, the most general look, or gleaming with a cruel delight as he forces someone in an uncomfortable position, either strangling the males in a rather sadistic mood or forcing a woman to pleasure him, his features itself are sharp and give him a harsh or strict demeanor to him. His mouth is thin and the upper lip is a little bow-shaped, his voice is surprisingly smooth, like silk, but none could deny the edge to it when he wants it to be there. His fingers are thin and long, ready to wrap around someone in an instant with no regret or a sign that he hesitates. As said he seems weak but don’t let this fool you, he has a surprisingly strength in those limbs. He’s very silent when he moves around, giving him some profit of sneaking around without being noticed, he uses this mostly if he visits the women. He feels most comfortable in dark colors, helping him with sneaking around, only carrying some colors, even then mostly dark browns and greens, if he goes outside to explore, His skin because it’s pale, burns easily as it doesn’t seem used to the warmth. Even with his too skinny and bony look he wears rather tight clothes that show off to the others his little amount of muscle he could gather, making him rather appealing to the opposite sex.
Personality: There isn’t much said about him, only that he’s sadistic and very cruel, seeming twisted along with it. He doesn’t mind at all to hurt another being, mostly humans, not at all, even more if the people remind him of his demons, his father and brother, he wishes them all dead like the lowly creatures they are, deserve. Always finding new ways to torture them. Only when it comes to the kitten he had saved, he’s very protective, he came to be like this of the years of abuse he had to endure of his family. The only people he doesn’t seem to hate are the girls and women there, he sees them as objects he can bed whenever he pleases and toss away when he becomes tired of them. He doesn’t have any friends, nearly none as he prefers to be alone most of the time, only allowing the kitten, named kitty, that wouldn’t leave otherwise, to stay as it doesn’t talk almost seeming like a mute cat, just places itself in his lap or by his feet. He doesn’t avoid fights but he never would seek them on purpose, he also never would start them so that he can avoid getting the finger pointed at and getting some kind of punishment. If he’s sick of everything happening around him, he walks outside and will gaze at the star filled night-sky breathing in the fresh air, allowing him to relax outwardly, although he never will allow himself to relax inside. Many people call him antisocial and he is, no much doubt about it. Because of his antisocial nature he’s very silent and seems withdrawn and shy, but if one catches him unaware of staring at someone, they could see the hate burning, although being silent has also has it advantages. Unthanks his seemingly hate for everything he talks to the few friends he managed to gather, he sometimes play out the roll of ‘shy’ person very well, in reality, if what happened didn’t happen he would have been, some even found him pretty nice, once or twice a person could see the child inside him, reaching out to someone for protection, for comfort, for everything he was denied. He doesn’t like changing things very much, but he will adapt to it eventually.
History: Zephyr was the youngest out of four. His parents, and older male sibling living in one of the little shattered homes in the surrounding areas of the city. His family looked happy, although father and brother took a delight in beating Zephyr and his mother, his father more in a drunken rage, he had started this habit when he had heard his wife couldn’t bear more children because of Zephyr, or so he thinks. His father was a blacksmith, before he retired because of an accident with the iron, resulting in third degree burns and one dead man. His brother just went along, his tasks was doing the small jobs in and around the house, he was just as sadistic as his father but he was clear and not drunk. Zephyr later heard out of his own father’s mouth that he hoped he would kill the boy. Zephyr only really felt love for his mother, a housewife. although he had to admit to his own shame that he, just like his father and brother, also saw her as an object, the result of hearing that she was worth nothing and that he (his father) needed to get rid of her also and she also did beat him, but to a lesser extend than his father and brother did and more out of frustration because she was beated herself. Later they would find more manners to torture him; denying food, hot pokers. He learned so to hide his emotions from an early age, knowing that they only would beat him harder to see the same reaction over and over, although, it didn’t seem to stop them having the opposite reaction it seemed, they beated him harder trying to get some kind of reaction out of him this time. One day, when his father in a real bad fit of drunk rage tried to rape the boy, and his mother stood up in a fit of ‘love’ and saved him, taking his beating upon her.
He grew more bitter towards them and retreaded even further into himself. His heart and mind seemed to snap and he became angry enough that he would have killed them, just as his father, with the help of his brother who was slightly unwillingly, killed his mother, but when it went away and when he saw them unconscious on the floor he let out a strangled gasp and fled the house, leaving everything behind, from his clothes, to his memories and to his demons, not willing to see his dead mother on the ground every time he looked at that spot on the floor. He didn’t know what he had to do anymore and where he had to go. He stumbled only by luck across a village and entered it, only to hear a strangled scream that couldn’t belong to a human, fearing for the being’s live as he didn’t want it to experience what he had to go through the abuse (he heard it in the scream, years of experience he calls it) he had suffered, raced towards the sound. He found a group of older and local boys of the town torturing a small kitten, making his anger spark again as it still howled its pain towards the skies, he attacked them without hesitation in a brave but weird moment of courage; and with his wit and still small posture he managed to chase them from the kitten, earning himself some small scratches and bruises, picking it up and petting it. He noticing it flinch every time he did so, he decided to take it with him and named it Kitty, planning to change it later to make it easier, the feline responded fine to it and the name kind of stuck, soon enough they became a ‘team’ none could be found without the other, even in water.
Roleplaying example: (from another site with a similiar character) He didn't know what he was doing here, nor did he knew what had happened to the body in front of him. He gazed at his hands, pale with faint dots of red, blood of his own under his own skin or the corpse's blood on his hands? He couldn't make sure in this darkness. He looks around quickly, hoping that no one did see him, when he was sure none did he hurried away from the scene. Oh, of course he had carried the body a little away so that it wouldn't be noticed instantly, the kitten like always was seated on his shoulder, it's tiny tail weaving in a random patron. He pulled the scarf tighter around his neck to keep most of the humidity out and the warmth. Although, judging by his clothes he rather liked the warmth as he was dressed in concealing clothes, meaning that none could see an ounce of flesh on his arms or legs. One could still see the shifting muscles though.
He laughed lightly, rather hysteric, and leaned against the wall "What happened, Kitty?" He whispered lightly, still staring at his hands, suddenly noticing that the dots of red he noticed early weren’t from him. He groans lightly and then pauses, raising his hand to his mouth as if he wanted to lick the blood off, but then dropped it quickly with a disgusted glance. The small kitten nuzzled his cheek for a moment and made a small mewl, he turns his gaze to the feline and smiles "Was it that again?" It mewled softly again and he shakes his head, plucking it from his shoulder and cuddling it close, seeking comfort in the warm, but small body "I wouldn't know what to do without you Kitty.." He murmurs, looking around more, one arm loosening it's grip to push the bangs away for once, so he could get a better sight and that no one would sneak up on him. He hated when that happened.
His eyes unwillingly turned to the direction to the corpse again, the last that tried to sneak upon him laid there, mangled he had to admit. He breathes in, smelling the blood again, almost making him dizzy with what seemed lust and desire. His lips part and his tongue darts out to wet them. The kitten mewled again, snapping him out of the daze and he looked at it "Yes, I should wash my hands, hmm?" He turns and walks to one of the water sources, not wanting to stain the dark clothes more with them.
He whistles and stops when he finds water, dipping his hands into it and rubs them together almost roughly; flexing his long, thin fingers. The same fingers that took that live with ease, he feels a shiver run over his spine, although he doesn't know from what. He gasps and turns to the kitten, suddenly worried "What should we do with the body?" He asks it anew, expecting an answer it seemed "We just can't let it lie around like that.." He breathed out for a moment, then a lamp seemed to burn and he pushed himself upright "I know it!" He nearly yelled and ran back.
He fell on his knees next to the corpse and felt its throat "He's dead.." He gasped out loud, hoping that anyone would hear and free him from any suspicion "Help!" He yelled out loud now "There is someone murdered!" He looks around "I.. There is a body here!" He bites his lip, making it tremble "I.. What happened?" He whispers, forcing tears to fall from his eyes, taking the corpse in his arms, cradling it, feeling inwardly disgusted with it "Oohh, what happened to you?" He moans now, placing his forehead against the corpse's bloodied one. Not once he denied he wasn’t a good actor.
How did you find us? From a random site I stumbled upon, they had this site's banner/button up, I clicky, I likey and the rest you know? XD