Post by jetred on May 20, 2012 19:38:51 GMT -6
Lucas Malcolm Askel
male - Mind;6000 Body;18 - fallen angel - Stuart Sutcliffe
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to the gentlemen I'm misfortune
to the ladies I'm surprise[/size]
Name:[/b] Malcolm Askel, but he's called Lucas or Luke because he wants to be.
Gender:[/b] Male
Species:[/b] Fallen Angel
Age:[/b] Mind;6000 Body;18
Sexuality:[/b] Everything
but call me by any name
any way it's all the same[/size]
Face Claim:[/b] Stuart Sutcliffe
Hair:[/b] Naturally black and floppy, though he uses wax to mold it into different styles. It always looks a little messy; he likes it that way.
Eyes:[/b] They're a light hazel colour, with a band of darker brown in the top of his right one.
Height&Build:[/b] At about 5 foot 11, he's not exactly the 'towering-over-you' type, no matter how hard he tries. He's skinny too, maybe overly so, but with agility and quick-thinking he can hold his own in a fight.
Special Traits:[/b] Two wing stumps sprout from his back, ragged and torn, with red blood staining what were once snowy feathers. They're really not pretty. They hurt him greatly, and he generally tries to tie or bandage them down, as he's ashamed.
It gets so lonely being evil
What I'd do to see a smile[/size]
Personality:[/b] People hate Luke, but he really does deserve it.
Likes[/b] Getting "intimate" with people.
Eatin' stuff
Owning a load of stuff
Not doing much
Provoking people.
Making people jealous of what he has.
Being praised.
Dislikes:[/b] Being pestered.
His parents
Loud, obnoxious people
Clingy people
Heavily religious people
Other Angels.
Strengths:[/b] TEXT HERE- 5-10
Weaknesses:[/b] TEXT HERE - same amount as strengths
I do it all because I'm evil
and I'll do it all for free[/size]
Hometown:[/b] Born in London, lives in St Louis
Parents:[/b] John and Sarah, estranged. Acting In loco parentis is his aunt Roberta.
Siblings:[/b] None
History:[/b]
"Please, my lord, please don't!" Pleading with God was a last resort. It wouldn't work. You couldn't change the mind of something all-powerful. The best he could hope for now was an easy punishment; it wasn't looking likely.
Having an angel throw him down before the lord was purely humiliating, only made worse by the smug looks on their faces. He hadn't been alone in his beliefs, but as the only to voice them, he alone would feel the punishment they all deserved.
He was still begging, much to the others' amusement, as the sword was reached for. He knew what use it would have today, and he dreaded it with every inch of his being.
Even the dread did not prepare him for the pain.
It shot through every muscle and bone and tendon as if he'd been electrocuted, burning at his skin and making him cry out loud.
He whimpered as the pain subsided, however brief his relief was; the crippling pain flared up again as his other shoulder was mutilated.
And in this way he was left, bloody and crying, to fend for himself in the harshest of worlds.
He was picked up by nuns; the irony never failed to amuse him. Nursed back to health and forced to worship at the feet of the God who deserted him, days became a chore for him. Life became a chore.
Born as an accident to a couple who hated children, Luke was causing misery from the day he was born. So as soon as humanly possible, they fobbed him off onto someone else; his father's sister, Roberta. Roberta wass a lovely person, and had always wanted a kid of her own, to cherish and teach her views and values.
What she didn't want was a Lucas.
Unteachable of any manners, rude and deliberately irritating even as a toddler. He did what he liked when he liked, and she couldn't really cope.
your tears all all the pay I'll ever need
Roleplayer Name:[/b] Rufus
Roleplayer Gender:[/b] Mostly male
Roleplayer Age:[/b] 16
Roleplayer Birthday:[/b] 5th Feb
How you found us:[/b] 'Cause Hedgie
Roleplay Sample:[/b] "It was only a small stretch of corridor left; if he'd made it this far, he'd make it a little bit longer. He knew he shouldn't bring back quite so many books. Every time he went to the library he'd promise himself, 'Only a couple of books, maybe five at most. You can manage that,' and yet he'd always come back with towers of them, bag bursting to the seams and arms full. He'd already bumped into several people on the stairs up, with small mutters of apologies as he went on past. He heard their comments of, "He's mad," and the like, but ignored it. Books were better company than such people, which is why he had so many.
Managing, just about, to catch The Picture of Dorian Grey as it slid from his forearm, he tripped backwards a little, reaching out a hand to steady himself. His hand connected with the wall behind him and he stopped falling, however his reading material didn't, and half of it slipped from his grasped as he desperately scrabbled to stop them falling to the floor. As a number of them fell, one hitting his shin on the way down, he hissed slightly in pain and mild annoyance. Deciding that he could leave them there for now, as the corridor was deserted, he stacked them a little bit neater before getting out the key for his dorm door. He slipped his bag off his shoulder, letting it slump down on the floor with a loud, 'thud.' Using his left hand, as his right was still full, he fumbled with the key, trying to get it into the lock. Eventually he got the door open, and turned back to pick up his other novels.
And promptly tripped over his bag and fell flat on his face.
He cursed inwardly, glaring down a little at the bag strap that was tangled around his shoe, and then looking up in resignation and the avalanche of volumes sliding down the wall. Poor books, they didn't deserve this kind of treatment. He sat up slightly, leaning back against his doorframe, checking himself for bruises and carpet burn, hoping there were none. Preoccupied, he didn't notice that he was blocking up the corridor with his legs and his books. It wasn't like this was the first time he'd done this, and no one had noticed before, so why would they now?"
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