Post by damion on Sept 14, 2007 18:42:54 GMT
THE ACTOR
[/size][/b]Name: Blind
Age: 15
Means of Contact: [MSN, AIM, Neopets etc.] Neopets - blind_destruction89
Role playing Experience: Four to five years.
Your Activity Level: [On a scale of one to ten] Seven-eight
Other Characters: None.
THE PART
[/center][/b]Full Name: Damion D'Aubigne
Nickname
Gender: Male
Age: Twenty-one
Date of Birth: October, 23
Mother: Sarah D'Aubigne
Father: Jacques D'Aubigne
Siblings: Dante and Preston, D'Aubigne
Sexuality: Gay
ON THE OUTSIDE
[/center]Appearance: [At least two good paragraphs]
Damion doesn't care too much about his appearance. However, he has the good common sense not to run around with an overly messy appearance.
His hair style is naturally dark brown, and he doesn't dye it. It hangs down to about the lower part of his ears, and is naturally straight. He has a single
silver hoop piercing in his right ear, which he got done as a promise to someone who had once been important to him. It's set in now, however, and he
worries a bit about scarring, which results in him not bothering with it. Damion's eyes are a darker shade of gray, but they catch light well and so the shade
sometimes varies between light gray, dark gray, and really deep gray.
He stands at about 6'0 even, and weighs around 150 lbs. He is fairly thin, and tends to not over-indulge in food. He normally wears casual, loose, but not
baggy black pants, and a plain black long sleeved shirt. He prefers the color black in his wardrobe, and hasn't cared much to change that fact, or his clothes,
to match the blues, pinks, greens, and reds, of the rest of the color spectrum. Damion wears long sleeved shirts often, not because he's hiding something, bu
because he's somewhat self-conscious about his arms, although he wouldn't admit it, to himself or otherwise, and as a result keeps them covered. His skin is
fairly pale, seeing as he does not enjoy sitting outside in the sun very much, if at all, which led to him being somewhat paler than normal.
Image: None.
Celebrity Portrayal: None.
ON THE INSIDE
[/center]Personality: [At least two good paragraphs.]
Damion is a bit too apathetic for his own good. He's about as social as a rock, and tends to spend most of his time working, sitting in a corner somewhere
and reading, or sleeping. He values intelligence over any other trait, and will only speak to other people that he feels he can have a good, solid conversation with.
However, in his mind, getting to that good conversation is not worth the trouble of pleasantries and so he sticks to himself most of the time.
He is deeply loyal and faithful to those he cares about, as few as they may be. Damion's brothers are the two he would gladly lay his life down for, and
as a result he works, or worked, very hard for them. He's always been very hardworking and had a tendency to push himself too far in order to get things
done.
Damion is quiet, not shy, and can be blunt and quite honest when in conversation. He believes in very little, and what he does believe in, he sees as the basic
truths of life. Black and white is a concept known to him, but he finds more comfort in believing in the shades of gray. Overall, he's rather quiet, content with
being alone, and faithful.
Likes:
- Reading
- Feeling as though he means something
- Doesn't mind listening to music, although it's not something he lives for
- The few people he can trust
- Intelligent conversation
- Spending time with his brothers
- Smoking
- Very little in the grand scheme of things. xD
Dislikes:
- People who are too loud
- Crowded places
- People who can't speak properly, or make themselves out to be idiots
- People who are too willing to trust, and people who take advantage of that trust
- Overly messy places
- Having to do menial, tedious tasks
Habits:
- Smokes
- Has been known to dabble in drugs
- Drinks regularily
Quirks:
- Tends to become too absorbed in his thoughts
IN THE PAST
History: Grew up with his parents and mother's grandmother in a vineyard in France. Both his parents were hard workers
and his grandmother 'raised' him essentially. His mother had his younger brother, Dante, and they got along fine. Dante and Damion spent a lot of time with
their grandmother, and Damion established a close relationship with his mother, and particularily enjoyed it when she would read him stories to put him to sleep.
Damion's second brother was born, Preston, but he did not get a chance to know his grandmother because she died shortly after.
As a result, Damion, being a child at the time, blamed Preston for her death. It was only a phase, however, and the two reconciled their differences.
Their differences were resolved because their parents had become so 'busy' attending to the vineyard that they had less time to spend with their children.
Their parents were somewhat alcoholics, but Damion and his brothers were too young to realize the symptoms. It came full force however, when one day they
woke up to find out that their mother had run off to America with another woman, and that their father was outraged. He became a full fledged alcoholic, and let the vineyard
deteriorate. One day, when Damion was seventeen, he and his brother's were kicked out of the house for being nuisances.
They went to America, in hopes that they would find their mother. They took the money they thought that they would need, and fled.
Damion worked at odd jobs to pick up money to support his brothers, and as a result, had no time to finish highschool. He read in his spare time to keep
himself aware, but forced Dante through school, and put aside money to send Preston through to University.
He met a boy named "Leon" who worked at the same place he was, a "Starbucks" of all places. Leon was a few years older than Damion, but they got to
know each other and he became Damion's first real lover.
Damion, being Damion, gave him pretty much every little piece of his soul, including his virginity, and they were together for three years. However, Damion
soon found out that Leon had been cheating on him with other men and women for most of that time, and just left Damion when he found out. This happened at
the same point that his father had come back, and demanded that Damion, (who by now had legal guardianship over his brother, Preston, who was still underage),
give him back his son, Preston.
Preston disappeared one night, and even though Dante had found him and returned him home, Damion had had enough. A mental breakdown, and a few days later
and Damion had simply stopped being of one sane mind. Habits of OCD sprouted up with him, and so did fits of extreme paranoia, as well as periods where he would simply
stop speaking.
Relationships with Parents: Virtually non-existent, although he once upon a time had a good relationship with his mother.
Relationships with siblings: Quite good. He cares deeply about them, and they care about him.
BACK TO THE PRESENT
Role play Sample: (( I hope you don't mind Final Fantasy? D:))
Sunlight streaked pale pinks and blues across the steadily brightening skyline. Clouds sparse and light, transparent in the lessening gloom, casting pale silhouettes on the tired city below.
Lights were off in homes above, and below the plate. The only signs of life in the city were the great random, mako laced puffs of smoke that flitted out from tops of reactors and fled to the sky, yearning to mingle with the clouds, and falling short half way, dissipating into nothing.
Rail-lines echoed a desperate plea, shaking and rattling beneath the force of the train as it made its way through sector upon sector of garbage and slums. The sounds were heard, or imagined, by the few awake and dreaming. The few that were up at the brilliant hour, were watching a city asleep as it continued to serve them fruitlessly. Attempts bare and empty, draining more and more of the planet as the train looped in its never-ending circle, and found it’s way back to the center of Midgar again. Great expanses of smoke, choking the planet and its people, every time it drifted upwards to try and meet the clouds.
Ah, but what did it matter? This was home. This was Midgar. Midgar in its poisoned, choking glory. Everyone knew it would die eventually, it was only a matter of time. Even Rufus knew that. He couldn’t lie to himself forever. There would be a point where the only choice they had to make, slums or above the plate, Shinra employee or slum whore, would be how they went out. But, the city seemed to be making the choice on its own, dwindling away into a hollow, suffocated cocoon of itself.
Blue eyes fell from the window, tired of seeing those same luminescent eyes reflecting back at him. Thin, lanky body slouched over the chair, arms loosely crossed behind his head as he watched, no more an employee of Shinra than a worker of death. One of the few with the rare pleasure, the privilege to not only strangle Midgar, but slit its wrists and drink out the blood. Who better for the job than a Turk? They were hired for a reason, weren’t they? Slit wrists, and drain life. It was just so easy, too easy.
But, that was the reason he shut his eyes to the reflection. Not to reflect on it anymore, because not to think about it, was not to care. In all honesty, when had he been one to care? He never had been.
Mako filled gaze traveled slowly through the room, curving past the small table, flitting upwards to the bare top, a single card placed sardonically, cursive, silver writing reflecting the lights from the ceiling overhead. A low buzz flickering through them, electricity humming through the building, another semblance of a dying city.
Slender legs peeled apart, crossed over each other, now to be straightened out as he bent forward, making a move as if to stand from the soft, plush hospital chair he was sitting in. The sickly gray cushion seemed to moan under his sudden shift, as he stood up entirely, pale fingers reaching out for the white card with the cursive writing.
“Get Well Soon.” Thin, pale lips formed the words, slowly, deliberately, carefully, as though trying to absorb some meaning from them, regardless of having heard them countless times.
Fingers slipped beneath the fold, thumb pushing the top half open as he read the scrawling text, written in a feminine hand, black ink glistening slightly with the same luster as the writing on the cover.
‘Hope to see you up again soon, Rude. We miss you. – Elena’
The single signature seemed bare against the white background, printed text missing, an indication that the cards had been bought in bulk. She was still soft to her humanity. He couldn’t blame the rookie though, she didn’t understand that she wouldn’t remain compassionate or feeling for much longer. The job brought out the worst in people. The nothing in them.
He pushed the thoughts further aside, placing the card back onto the table with a slight flick of his wrist, nonchalant to whether or not it actually landed on the table. Black boots made a small ‘crunching’ sound on the white linoleum, accompanying the repetitive hum and flicker of the lights above. Another step forward, and his eyes were not staring at himself anymore, but at the face of someone else.
His partner’s eyes were closed, face still in an expression of serenity, almost as serene as the sunrise had been, as beautiful as the dying city’s last desperate attempt at life. The soft rise and fall of the muscular chest allowed him peace, not having to worry about burying a fellow Turk. His claims to be unable to feel would have been tested, then, and that was an incident he would rather have avoided.
Black sunglasses had been shattered in the incident, and no one had bothered to bring him another pair, not knowing that his partner would have found more comfort in having them near him. He watched a moment longer, finding solace in the steady, constant rhythm of his partner’s breathing before his fingers darted into the pocket of his black slacks. He groped around in his pocket for a moment, before he withdrew, in his hand, another pair of his partner’s beloved sunglasses.
They were placed, lightly and with surprising care on the table, a last glance at his partner as he turned to leave, boots crunching as he lifted his foot up off the linoleum. A hand at his wrist stopped him, and his head spun back, looking at the patient.
“Take care of Tseng, Reno.”
“Course I will. Take care of yourself, yo.”
An easy smile fell forward onto his lips, and he nodded at Rude, turning again to leave.
The hand at his wrist clenched tighter, and Reno turned around again, face to face with his partner. Blue eyes meeting light brown, unspoken words flitting back and forth between them before blue turned away.
“I know, partner. Don’t worry.”
This time when he turned to leave, he was met with no resistance. He listened as he left, to the sounds of his partners breathing, the flickering and the humming of the lights, the faint ‘blip blip’ of the heart monitors.
The last sound that bid him farewell was the low, deep sound of his partners voice, flying through the air back at him.
“Thanks.”
Reno couldn’t help but smirk as he walked away, striding through the hallways without a care in the world. Clothes were loose, messy, unkempt as always. Top button undone, shirt untucked, red hair spiked ruthlessly and randomly. His EMR hung loosely from his hand, the strap wrapped around his wrist as he swung it back and forth, sliding out of the way quickly to avoid hitting a nurse with a cart on her way down the hallway.
There were many more sounds out here. Commotion, people, voices, machines, mistakes, yells, laughter. His gaze flitted once again to the window, transparent glass giving way to the endless fall down to the streets. Concrete floor guaranteeing to shatter bones and rip apart flesh. Yet, it also gave way to the sky, promising to always remain sought after and unattainable. The pink and blue had faded into light blue, giving the clouds a greater strength to their white hue.
But, the sky wasn’t important. He’d never sought after it. Or, maybe that was a lie. He had worked himself to the bone to get himself above the plate, and out of the slums. Maybe that had been his sky. His goal. The sky and Tseng. Two perfect, unattainable things, only one ever being truly sought after, only one being gained.
The redheaded darted through the early employees of the Shinra Electric Power Company, making his way quickly and efficiently out of the department. Turks spent enough time in the medical center as it was, and he had somewhere to be.
His keycard was pulled out of his other pocket, pulled out slowly and leisurely as he winked at a secretary on her way in the opposite direction he was. She glared at him, clearly irritated from behind thin, smartly shaped glasses, before huffing and clutching her clipboard closer to her chest.
Reno couldn’t help but grin at her reaction, not bothering to give it a follow up as he approached the elevator, slipping the slim card into the slot, pressing the effortlessly new seeming button with the black, “H” emblazoned upon it.
The redhead slipped inside, watching as the doors shut behind him and the floor below him began to mount. Higher and higher and the glass windows surrounding him lured him to once again look back outside. Life rose up from the ashes of the peaceful serenity. The train still looped around in its circle, and smoke still buffeted up from the reactors, but now there was life around them. People on the train, people in the reactors, people, people, people everywhere. All the more reason he still had a job. It was his responsibility to bring back the serenity. Trade ashes for ashes, life for death, noise for silence. Oh, how cruel.
This time he stayed where he was, watching, keeping his eyes focused beyond the glass, stance still loose, smirk still there, but mind distant and fleeting. There was silence.
A loud ‘ding’ from behind him made him once again aware of where he was, and he slid out of the doors, on the highest floor of the Shinra company. The floor was almost bare, no one came here often anyway. Just another step to where he really wanted to go. Reno veered off to the left, walking quickly, anticipating finally reaching where he was going. Where he was supposed to be going. He didn’t even pause at the staircase, bounding upwards with a fresh bout of energy.
Reno burst out on the roof, wind strong and picking at his hair and clothes quickly, making them flap, causing his pony-tail to flutter out behind him. He didn’t mind, concentration solely on the large, black, company regulated helicopter sitting proudly on the roof’s helicopter pad. Just the right machine for the job.
He took a step towards it before pausing once more, and looking around the roof. Wasn’t Tseng supposed to be there? A ‘romantic getaway’ for the two of them. A mission, Tseng had said, but everything was a mission nowadays. Why not spice things up? And, with Rude out of commission. Well, his partner had authorized the go ahead, encouraging him that he would still be weak and frail before they got back and that he’d likely not go to a bar, get drunk and dress up like a chocobo without him there to see it.
It wasn’t like Tseng to be late, but it wasn’t like him to be early, either. So, he did what he would have probably done anyway. Quick, long strides and he was at the helicopter, hands placed lovingly on her window pane, crooning it softly.
“Oooh, I missed you, too. Don’t worry, Daddy’s here.”
The innocent smirk turned devious as all his previous thoughts seemed to melt away and fall through his façade. His fingers slipped beneath the door handle, and he tugged, pulling the door open. Reno slipped into the pilot’s seat, touching the joystick longingly as his hands trailed over the familiar instruments. He was tempted to start the helicopter, just to hear the familiar whirring of blades above his head, but Tseng would probably prefer it if he kept the machine off. Who knew, he might have ended up flying to Wutai without his lover fellow Turk onboard with him.
Reno swung his feet across the chair, letting them hang off out of the copter. Hopefully Tseng got there soon, then they could fly his mechanical baby and start their ‘mission’.
The magic phrase: In a world as big as this it's not hard to feel alone...
