Post by Deleted on Sept 28, 2012 1:19:45 GMT -5
Not quite done yet... still tweaking little details, but up for inspection...
Player Title: Cresant
Full Birth Name:
Lucifer Lumin
Alias/ nickname:
Cresant
Race:
Human
Gender:
Male
Age:
20
Physical Appearance:
Personality Traits:
Weaponry:
Extras:
History Summary:
Post Example:
Player Title: Cresant
Full Birth Name:
Lucifer Lumin
Alias/ nickname:
Cresant
Race:
Human
Gender:
Male
Age:
20
Physical Appearance:
Cresant stands about 5'7, his hair is cut short in the back, with his bangs left to hang to the right over a blinded right eye. He's slender and toned, a few of his features verge on feminine giving him a bit of a "cute"/"pretty boy" look, his general build and curves occasionally causing him to occasionally be mistaken for a rather flat chested female.
Personality Traits:
Cresant is generally quiet, with a habit of going into "Observe and study" mode whenever something new or strange crosses his path, and also has a nasty tendency to prod any proverbial wasps nests he comes across, more so out of curiosity and a rather sick sense of humor. Since leaving/escaping the institute, he considers the world a great big game-more so for the sake of his own sanity. Despite having a bit of a superiority complex and twisted, sometimes cruel sense of humor, he has an excessively naive, and innocent mindset, and an almost OCD resopnse to anyone who admits to being weak and/or needing help.
Weaponry:
Cresant totes around a very old colt revolver he keeps extremely obsessive care of though he has no ammunition for it, the weapon is more of an old keepsake.
He has a mass variety of small-medium blades kept close at all times, a throwing knife and stiletto in each sleeve, strapped to his wrists, around both thighs are four more throwing knives, and a hunting knife on either side, strapped to his upper arms are another set of four throwing knives and on his hips a pair of twin blades that are his favorite, the dark blue streamers on the handles are usually wound up tight around the handle unless he's bored enough to show off.
Extras:
Thick, Leather bound notebook/diary with quill
History Summary:
Cresant grew up for the most part in the general quiet and safety of the institute, sheltered and taught as any other golden-blood. Around the age of ten he ended up in an incident he's not particularly proud of; having a bad day, he got frustrated, and was fiddling with a pencil, bouncing it off the counter, when the thing snapped, a piece bounced up and slashed his right eye, which ended up blind. thirteen he gained his nickname when he developed a taste for blades-specifically his favorite crescent blades. Having a similar name to another boy near his age, the vampires gave them nicknames. He never really thought about what were outside it's walls, and really, why should he care? Not like he would really be going anywhere anytime soon. It was the world he knew and it was damn comfortable living in it. It wasn't until that little connection he had with all the others was severed that he began to become uncomfortable. Restless and nervous. What was outside? He began to take to snapping at anyone who happened to bother him It wasn't until almost about four years after the others escaped that he really became twitchy and took off himself in the middle of the day, curious as to what had happened to the others who escaped. and has been more or less wandering around. The last while he's taken to stalking around the streets, picking a subject for the day and observing and learning from said subject the outside world was... strange. Vampires were some how odd, some violent and almost frightening. He'd studied a werewolf girl for a week, absently wondering why they and the vampires seemed to hate one another upon sight. He wasn't so fond of the werewolves either but their ability to shape shift gnawed at his curiosity. and some twisted little part of his head just wanted to take one, dissect it and figure it out. But no, that wouldn't be very nice and his morals kept him from more than stalking a few around on occasion and taking notes on their behavior until they got suspicious, at which point he would simply move along to the next . A month of this went by before he started to get bored. The thought that maybe he could walk up and ask about them really never crossed his mind with how unapproachable they seemed. No, he would keep his distance and prod from afar. The only relatable feature of them seemed to be their attachment to one another. This after a while had him getting more and more snippy and depressed. He hadn't been able to find any others and quite frankly wasn't interested in the outside vampires, half of which seemed to have lost their heads one way or another, Humans were dull, though sometimes interesting to watch, none really seemed like they'd make decent companions. He'd yet to really find out about anything in person, but he'd seen from a distance that the vampires and wolves seemed more irritable toward them than toward each other. IE; bad company. Just had to be patient. For the moment he could handle things well enough.
Post Example:
why am I doing this to myself? he asked himself that for the last three nights he'd gone to her, and always came up with the same thought Shut the hell up and take it cause you like it he thought back. Only his stomach ever disagreed with the decision. And it shut up pretty damned fast when he could feel the ecstasy that was her. Down the alley into the yard. He stared at the house for a moment, debating whether to sit in the lush clover that spanned it or to take up a place on the picnic table bench. Clover is softer... he thought. The apple tree in the back yard was blooming and he marveled at what seemed like millions of white flowers upon it. where was she? he wondered impatiently, turning to glance at the building. I know she knows I'm here... "Creasant Hellsing..." He jumped and spun around, tripping himself and doing a neat little face plant. "Graceful as ever..." droned the feminine voice dully. An almost cold dead laugh escaped the womans mouth as she watched him from atop the very corner of the table, balancing precariously on the edge in those insanely high spike healed shoes. She seemed to almost flutter to the ground, landing with perfect silence as she touched down. The long purple and black jacket flared out as she stalked over, still too silently. An adrenaline rush hit him, triggered by the predatory movements of her body. This girl could kill him and eventually, he thought, probably would. She gave a dark smile and he an involuntary flinch knowing she was probably having an entertaining time with the rhythm of his heart right now. Run hissed his instincts as he forced himself to be still. get the hell out, run. He silenced them. "Little braver tonight?" she laughed again, this time with a very slight hint of amusement. close, she's to close He couldn't stop, though he didn't run he started backing up a little. "A little..." he said, though it came out with an unintended edge. "been a while..." "Two days..." she replied calmly "isn't that long." Keeping all his attention on her, he failed to notice the root of the tree and with a yelp fell backward, fighting the screams to bolt when she caught him before letting him to the ground and pinning forcelessly. "Do I really frighten you that much... you know it might hurt a little less if you relaxed..." she droned and then lent down next to his ear and whispered "not that I don't love to hear you scream..." |