T
The Great Me!
Guest
Original poster
Sign-up's and RP discussion is here: http://www.iwakuroleplay.com/showthread.php?t=20288
Virtues characters and settings are in light blue.
Virtue Spots Taken: 5(Temperance, Diligence, Charity, Patience, and Humility)
Virtue Spots Available: 2(Chastity and Kindness)
Sins characters and settings are in red.
Sins Spots Taken: 4(Lust, Greed, Sloth, and Wrath)
Sins Spots Available: 3(Gluttony, Envy and Pride)
A long, deep breath was drawn in through the nose, held for a moment, before the young man exhaled slowly from his mouth with eyes close, long silver hair loose rather than strung-up as it often was - at least around most others. His legs were crossed, shoulders squared but relaxed, and hands in his lap connected to form a circle. The chill air drifting in from the open window nipped at his bare arms, the male wearing overly large, baggy pants that completely hid the size and thickness of his legs, while in contrast to that he also wore a black sleeveless shirt that went all the way to cover most of his neck, the form-fitting dark fabric exentuating the curve of toned pectorals and abs that made it obvious he worked out a lot and was very athletic, if the corded muscles of his arms weren't indication enough. Despite his long and unusually silver hair and tall, beautiful face he wasn't one that could really be considered infeminant, his expression serious looking and all-business even when he was relaxed in meditation.
After some time like that he opened pale blue eyes - ones that looked almost silver as well to match his hair - and stood up in one fluid movement, walking across the sparse room to a low dresser, taking a long cord with beads and a tassle on each end and tying his hair up just behind his head, adjusting it afterwards so parts of it on the side hung in slight loops just behind his ears. Every morning was like this. He would force himself awake early on, usually before anyone else was awake, do a series of stretching exorcises to both strengthen his body and loosen up his muscles - so as not to risk pulling or tearing anything when doing other exorcises or if the gang somehow got dragged into a fight or had to defend themselves from something on short notice - before meditating for a while to clear his mind and relax both his body and emotions, most importantly his sense of self-restraint and his temper.
That being done, his eyes briefly swept about the room, taking in the sight of walls with peeling paint that was flaking off, crumbling into a mess onto the floor in strips or chunks and leaving the walls looking scaly and mottled, a pair of dingy mattresses and a slightly less dingy comforter resting on top of them positioned more to one corner of the room while the sliding closet doors were pushed mainly to one side and broken, leaving it sitting open.
One might wonder what someone like him - someone who had obviously originated from affluence - would be doing living in such a place. He didn't look like someone who belonged, like a Decayan, and likely never would, but it hardly mattered to him. Some greatly liked and respected him, others were suspicious, especially those of lower rank within the gang but given the descrimination brought about by the Nexus and what had become of the world he couldn't really blame them. Either way, he had a mission to see through and what people thought of him held no relevence. It was action and results that mattered, not words or impressions.
Walking across the room, he picked up what looked to be a long, rounded wooden sword, making his way for the door of his room briskly and pushing it open. The two dogs that had been in the room as well leapt up to follow, trotting behind him heavily, one a pure white and the other a deep black, and quite large. It was a relatively common tease that they weren't dogs, they were hoofless horses, but when it came down to it everyone admitted they'd be too afraid to ever be on the enemy receiving-end of the behemoth canines, and were glad the dogs were on their side to help serve as protection. The two dogs had been with him since he was a younger boy, now starting to get on in years but still going strong and still a force to be reckoned with. He was so used to their constant presence that it simply felt wrong not to have them around at almost any given time.
Closing the door once the two dogs had joined him out in the hall, he walked down the stairs towards the lower levels of the building that the Virtues called home, ponytail swaying behind him as he descended the stairs and came to the foyer on the ground floor, gray light dimly filtering in from the outside sky, overcast by clouds that were a mixture of water vapor and smog pollution, making it rare for there to ever be any days that weren't dark and overcast, many Decayans, especially the younger ones and even more-so those who had never been to the Nexus having no real knowledge towards the concept of sunshine or clear skies since the planet had fallen into such disarray.
The first thing the scrawny teen was aware of was a desperate scream even as he bolted awake, single blue eye darting about the dimly lit room in a panic as he struggled out of the ratty blanket that was his and scrambled across the floor and into the corner where the two walls joined, his breathing coming in quick gasps. It took him several moments but he realized that the scream had been his own and brought about by the constant nightmares and night terrors that plagued his rest, his entire too-small body trembling with adrenaline caused by the terror of his dreams. Nights were often like this though only some of the time were his nightmares so bad as to make him scream out in sleep, most of the time he could supress it so long as he could curl into a ball even if he did wake up rigid and aching as a result of tensed muscles locking up, one of many defense mechanisms he had developed in response to the horrible things that had happened throughout his young life. It took him some time but he managed to bring his breathing back under control and make his shaking subside, arms hugged around himself uncomfortably, feeling an all-too-familiar tightness in his chest and an ache in the soft of his wrists in response to the boy's internal distress.
He was in his mid-teens but he didn't look it, appearing many years younger because of stunted growth due to malnutrition throughout his life, unruly short brown hair sitting messy and unkempt atop his head, messily cut as if he had done it himself and looking as if it never saw a comb or brush. His clothing couldn't entirely hide the boy's too-thin frame, which only helped in making the teen look younger and frail, and made many underestimate him as a result. A more prominent and unmistakeable feature of his though was the extensive scarring to his face.
His right eye was scarred around the lid and sealed, while his left was still open and working, but had a long and ugly scar travelling from just above his brow down to the very edge of his jaw. He was dressed in all blacks that fully covered everything, only his head and fingertips visible.
Running a hand through his hair and further disheveling it, the teen forced himself to his feet and wandered to the door of the small room, the concrete stone walls seeming to alMost radiate cold and made the thin boy shiver, never having been very good with the cold on account of lacking in body fat, pushing the door open and stepping out into the dark hall, walking near-silently and having no trouble with the lack of light that permiated the building's halls and rooms, feeling perfectly at home in the darkness, in fact.
The building seemed just as dank and cold as the members of the Sin's gang that resided within it, an all-too-fitting abode for such disgusting and sinful creatures as them, or just human kind in general. The human race was just a destructive and loathesome infestation after all, deserving only of eradication. He hated himself just as much as he hated the rest of the species, and didn't even care whether or not he died - maybe even hoped for it, in fact - but he resolved that first he had to do something about the rest of the human race. If he didn't destroy them, then who would?
Even the other Sin's that had taken him into their deranged little freak-show...they intended to use him for their own ends but while they thought they were pulling his puppet strings and use him, he'd be using them instead to help him get rid of mankind. Humans were egotistical and self-worshipping creatures who were blinded by their own pride and supposed self-importance after all so it wouldn't be hard if he just played his cards right, and if they died along the way, then oh well. More than likely he'd off them himself eventually anyway if they didn't die from other causes, once their usefulness had run it's course.
Besides - he figured - more than likely they had the same thoughts about him, because mankind was also traitorous and knew only how to cause harm, so it wasn't exactly unfair or ungrounded betrayal as far as he saw it, he was no doubt considered just as expendable to them as they were to him.
Virtues characters and settings are in light blue.
Virtue Spots Taken: 5(Temperance, Diligence, Charity, Patience, and Humility)
Virtue Spots Available: 2(Chastity and Kindness)
Sins characters and settings are in red.
Sins Spots Taken: 4(Lust, Greed, Sloth, and Wrath)
Sins Spots Available: 3(Gluttony, Envy and Pride)
A long, deep breath was drawn in through the nose, held for a moment, before the young man exhaled slowly from his mouth with eyes close, long silver hair loose rather than strung-up as it often was - at least around most others. His legs were crossed, shoulders squared but relaxed, and hands in his lap connected to form a circle. The chill air drifting in from the open window nipped at his bare arms, the male wearing overly large, baggy pants that completely hid the size and thickness of his legs, while in contrast to that he also wore a black sleeveless shirt that went all the way to cover most of his neck, the form-fitting dark fabric exentuating the curve of toned pectorals and abs that made it obvious he worked out a lot and was very athletic, if the corded muscles of his arms weren't indication enough. Despite his long and unusually silver hair and tall, beautiful face he wasn't one that could really be considered infeminant, his expression serious looking and all-business even when he was relaxed in meditation.
After some time like that he opened pale blue eyes - ones that looked almost silver as well to match his hair - and stood up in one fluid movement, walking across the sparse room to a low dresser, taking a long cord with beads and a tassle on each end and tying his hair up just behind his head, adjusting it afterwards so parts of it on the side hung in slight loops just behind his ears. Every morning was like this. He would force himself awake early on, usually before anyone else was awake, do a series of stretching exorcises to both strengthen his body and loosen up his muscles - so as not to risk pulling or tearing anything when doing other exorcises or if the gang somehow got dragged into a fight or had to defend themselves from something on short notice - before meditating for a while to clear his mind and relax both his body and emotions, most importantly his sense of self-restraint and his temper.
That being done, his eyes briefly swept about the room, taking in the sight of walls with peeling paint that was flaking off, crumbling into a mess onto the floor in strips or chunks and leaving the walls looking scaly and mottled, a pair of dingy mattresses and a slightly less dingy comforter resting on top of them positioned more to one corner of the room while the sliding closet doors were pushed mainly to one side and broken, leaving it sitting open.
One might wonder what someone like him - someone who had obviously originated from affluence - would be doing living in such a place. He didn't look like someone who belonged, like a Decayan, and likely never would, but it hardly mattered to him. Some greatly liked and respected him, others were suspicious, especially those of lower rank within the gang but given the descrimination brought about by the Nexus and what had become of the world he couldn't really blame them. Either way, he had a mission to see through and what people thought of him held no relevence. It was action and results that mattered, not words or impressions.
Walking across the room, he picked up what looked to be a long, rounded wooden sword, making his way for the door of his room briskly and pushing it open. The two dogs that had been in the room as well leapt up to follow, trotting behind him heavily, one a pure white and the other a deep black, and quite large. It was a relatively common tease that they weren't dogs, they were hoofless horses, but when it came down to it everyone admitted they'd be too afraid to ever be on the enemy receiving-end of the behemoth canines, and were glad the dogs were on their side to help serve as protection. The two dogs had been with him since he was a younger boy, now starting to get on in years but still going strong and still a force to be reckoned with. He was so used to their constant presence that it simply felt wrong not to have them around at almost any given time.
Closing the door once the two dogs had joined him out in the hall, he walked down the stairs towards the lower levels of the building that the Virtues called home, ponytail swaying behind him as he descended the stairs and came to the foyer on the ground floor, gray light dimly filtering in from the outside sky, overcast by clouds that were a mixture of water vapor and smog pollution, making it rare for there to ever be any days that weren't dark and overcast, many Decayans, especially the younger ones and even more-so those who had never been to the Nexus having no real knowledge towards the concept of sunshine or clear skies since the planet had fallen into such disarray.
**************************
The first thing the scrawny teen was aware of was a desperate scream even as he bolted awake, single blue eye darting about the dimly lit room in a panic as he struggled out of the ratty blanket that was his and scrambled across the floor and into the corner where the two walls joined, his breathing coming in quick gasps. It took him several moments but he realized that the scream had been his own and brought about by the constant nightmares and night terrors that plagued his rest, his entire too-small body trembling with adrenaline caused by the terror of his dreams. Nights were often like this though only some of the time were his nightmares so bad as to make him scream out in sleep, most of the time he could supress it so long as he could curl into a ball even if he did wake up rigid and aching as a result of tensed muscles locking up, one of many defense mechanisms he had developed in response to the horrible things that had happened throughout his young life. It took him some time but he managed to bring his breathing back under control and make his shaking subside, arms hugged around himself uncomfortably, feeling an all-too-familiar tightness in his chest and an ache in the soft of his wrists in response to the boy's internal distress.
He was in his mid-teens but he didn't look it, appearing many years younger because of stunted growth due to malnutrition throughout his life, unruly short brown hair sitting messy and unkempt atop his head, messily cut as if he had done it himself and looking as if it never saw a comb or brush. His clothing couldn't entirely hide the boy's too-thin frame, which only helped in making the teen look younger and frail, and made many underestimate him as a result. A more prominent and unmistakeable feature of his though was the extensive scarring to his face.
His right eye was scarred around the lid and sealed, while his left was still open and working, but had a long and ugly scar travelling from just above his brow down to the very edge of his jaw. He was dressed in all blacks that fully covered everything, only his head and fingertips visible.
Running a hand through his hair and further disheveling it, the teen forced himself to his feet and wandered to the door of the small room, the concrete stone walls seeming to alMost radiate cold and made the thin boy shiver, never having been very good with the cold on account of lacking in body fat, pushing the door open and stepping out into the dark hall, walking near-silently and having no trouble with the lack of light that permiated the building's halls and rooms, feeling perfectly at home in the darkness, in fact.
The building seemed just as dank and cold as the members of the Sin's gang that resided within it, an all-too-fitting abode for such disgusting and sinful creatures as them, or just human kind in general. The human race was just a destructive and loathesome infestation after all, deserving only of eradication. He hated himself just as much as he hated the rest of the species, and didn't even care whether or not he died - maybe even hoped for it, in fact - but he resolved that first he had to do something about the rest of the human race. If he didn't destroy them, then who would?
Even the other Sin's that had taken him into their deranged little freak-show...they intended to use him for their own ends but while they thought they were pulling his puppet strings and use him, he'd be using them instead to help him get rid of mankind. Humans were egotistical and self-worshipping creatures who were blinded by their own pride and supposed self-importance after all so it wouldn't be hard if he just played his cards right, and if they died along the way, then oh well. More than likely he'd off them himself eventually anyway if they didn't die from other causes, once their usefulness had run it's course.
Besides - he figured - more than likely they had the same thoughts about him, because mankind was also traitorous and knew only how to cause harm, so it wasn't exactly unfair or ungrounded betrayal as far as he saw it, he was no doubt considered just as expendable to them as they were to him.