Post by Quinn Blythe on Feb 23, 2014 8:57:14 GMT -7
Quinn Blythe
Quinn Blythe Twenty two Noble Quinn, Kin, Kirin Hope All FACE CLAIM: Riku. ANIMANGA: Kingdom Hearts. GENDER: Male. HEIGHT: 6 feet. WEIGHT: 176 pounds. APPEARANCE If anyone was to go into a crowd, Quinn would surely be among the first few they notice. With his height and posture he easily towers above people his age. But even if he didn’t pay attention to his training as a youngster, his unique colors would be enough to recognize him in a city where the usual ethnicity had dark eyes and hair. Despite being half-american and half-japanese, he took after his western father, and was born with a platinum blonde hair which steadily lost its color during his childhood. By the time he turned seven, his hair was already grey - or as some of his acquaintances like to say: silver. Paired with his unnaturally light-blue eyes and pale skin it just made him almost ethereal. The only thing he inherited from his mother was his almond shaped eyes – nothing else tells that he has Japanese blood in him. Upon a whim, he let his hair grow past his shoulders, which is even more of an eye-catch. Luckily enough it doesn’t make him feminine, his strong facial features and body-type is enough to make suspicion go away, and if the doubtful needed convincing, his muscles isn’t for show only. He barely watches what he wears. Ranging from black sleeveless tops to yellow and white vests, baggy cargo pants and jeans, he has a wide variety of clothes, but his only real concern for them is to be comfortable. He is used to fights from his younger years, and he knows that not everything is fit for fighting. He never wears formal clothes, he feels that they are too restricting, not to mention anything like a necktie would cause him to choke. He often wears wristbands, especially around his left wrist, where a big, pierced scar remains as a reminder of his failure in his past. [[[WAITING FOR SYSTEM INITILAIZATION]]] [[[OPEN A NEW SOUND FILE]]] [[[RECORDNING]]] Well, this is new, and I have no idea what the hell I want to accomplish with this, but it was recommended, so why the heck not? Talking to no one in particular is sometimes easier even though I’m not exactly the silent type either. Sometimes it’s just tiring to be in a group and watch over everyone’s wellbeing. But still, talking about myself... Oh, this is stupid. [[[…]]] Okay, let’s try again. Where do I even start this? My life was normal. My father is American, my mother is Japanese, so I am a mix, so to say. We live in Japan, Tokyo, along with my mother’s relatives. I am an only child. I have a feeling my parents didn’t want to have any more kids after me. I didn’t hear it from them, but from family friends and other relatives, that I was a creepy child. As a baby, I rarely cried, rarely laughed. I was always just watching others, as if I already understood them. Of course I didn’t, but when a six month old baby is staring at someone without any expression, of course they will freak out. I know I would be freaked out. I don’t know if it was because of this, but my relationship with my parents was always kind of… distant. I would like to think they love me, of course. They do express it, but we never talk about anything other than small talk. “How was school? Do you need new shoes for winter? Oh my, this summer sure is hot!” Is that how every family works? I wouldn’t know, I didn’t see any other. I see they are still worried about me, even after all these years even though I am already more expressive and outgoing than I was. Maybe that is also the reason I won’t tell them any of my worries. About myself. About others. About the world. Their distance was, of course, alienating, but it didn’t bother me one bit. I guess they had a reason to be like that. …Maybe… maybe somewhere deep it did bother me, but I still understood it. I was probably a creepy child, and I wasn’t perfect, wasn’t how they wanted me to be, so they would rather just keep their healthy 5 feet distance from me. That’s what it felt like. But that gave me and my thoughts space. That could be the reason why my mind is creating these absurd images and ideas. Sometimes, my own mind is making me uncomfortable. I think the weirdest, most unpredictable things, and I don’t know where they come from. How do I hold back my own mind? How do I stop it from reliving my dreams during the day? Seeing psychedelic colors on people when they are not there. How do I stop it from thinking about the process of someone dying? How do I stop it from imagining a blade cutting flesh – my flesh – while I’m holding a knife? Don’t misunderstand, I’m completely healthy. I never killed anyone, nor do I want to hurt others or myself. It’s just my mind wandering out of its boundaries and making even me uneasy with its details in imagination. At some point I was afraid I was crazy, that I have some kind of a disorder. But nothing else happened, and I was even more scared to tell these things to anyone. Maybe they are thinking about these things too, but no one is talking about it. But I think I know why this is. Or at least I like to think I know. My feelings, my sense, is making my own mind go high-wire and off-track in the most unimaginable times. I have to admit, it saved me some times before. It made me see people as they are, without their masks while I was wearing more than one. I could see through their lies, and thanks to that, I could save my friends. Though not myself. That’s when I got this scar on my left arm. But wait, I feel like I’m jumping around and not making any sense. [[[…]]] Okay, so when I was in school, students were gathering around me, attracted like moths to a flame. They were trying to talk to me, start small conversations, asking questions. I have to admit, I wasn’t the friendliest fellow back then... I wasn’t really rude or anything, just silent. You could say I was giving the silent treatment to them, but actually I was just trying to figure out why they wanted to talk to me. There were hundreds of other students to flock around, really. I heard them talk in the hallways numerous times. I was an enigma. I looked weird – I still do – and I was quiet, so they wanted to be friends. For what reason? Just so they could say that they were my friends. I understood that. I could see right through that. It was such a stupid reason that I couldn’t stand it. After that, when they came to talk to me, I asked them questions, made them uneasy. Why are you talking to me? Why do you want to know? Of course they couldn’t answer. These weren’t questions you can actually answer and get away with it. They were just there to be there, and not to really get to know me. They didn’t have a reason. But I wanted reasons. I needed reasons! And without those, I couldn’t let them get close. After that, they just avoided me, because they thought I didn’t want to interact with them. That wasn’t true. I wanted friends, of course. But how could I be their friends when they don’t know why they want to get to know me? How could I be their friends when I wasn’t who they thought I was? Not even I knew who I was. I was never satisfied with myself, I wanted to be better, do better. I studied as much as I could, I kept my body healthy, did sports regularly. There was a guy though, who answered my questions, and said to me he wanted me to help him with math homework. He knew I was good at it, and he needed someone to help him with it. He didn’t want me to write his homework, but to make him understand the problem at hand. I agreed to help. Everyone around us was surprised, baffled. They thought I was unapproachable, that I would turn everyone down. It wasn’t true. And I realized helping others made me feel good. But as good as helping others had felt, there was something clutching at me inside, some bad feeling I had, a hunch, an omen that I couldn’t get rid of. Enormous claw marks that I have seen in my dreams appeared in the area. People disappeared and reappeared. No one paid attention to the signs, no one took it seriously. It was around that time the screens darkened and we got a message. We heard that Hong Kong had fallen to a force no one knew about. The screens went dark, and what seemed like something out of my nightmares appeared and talked. The world was thrown into chaos and everything went downhill. Even if the construction of those walls began, the citizens remained uneasy. We learned about the digimon, the tamers, and people started their questions. Groups formed, cults formed, and the world were never the same again. If anything, it made me annoyed with myself. I could have helped. There was surely something I could do, even if I was only a little fifteen year old boy. Everyone was scared in school. They were talking about it for months, for yeas even. They were scared for their lives. I was worried about theirs, and about all the others, especially those out there with digimon, who were fighting so the walls could be built, so that peace could be kept. The students were seeking protection. They had a reason now. They thought I was strong, because I kept my calm, kept my reason. Because I had ideals, I had hopes for the future, even though I couldn’t see myself in it. I was never satisfied with myself, but they wanted someone to cling to for protection, a pillar in their lives among the chaos. I tried to get stronger for their sake, and before I realized, we became one of the many gangs that bloomed in the chaos that was our present. And as a twist of fate, I became a leader. I, who had no idea who I was, if I was strong enough, if I was fit for the role. We kept clashing with other gangs, but now that I think about it… I’m not sure about the reasons. Why were we fighting? I know my reason was to protect my friends, but why were there gang fights? It all seems like a blur. Somehow we graduated school, but the gang stayed together. There were even others recruited, and I kept thinking if I was fit to be a leader. More members meant more people to protect. I wasn’t sure I had the power for that. I could already see the images my mind was playing in front of me, if I failed, what would happen to them, what would happen to their friends. I cursed my insight, and my sixth sense. I didn’t want to feel, to know what would happen. But my chest tightened one day, and I knew a tragedy would come. It was a huge fight, but it seemed like we were even. However, at that time, we didn’t know one of them had a digimon. And they weren’t afraid to use it against humans inside the walls. It was a horrible sight, and I remember I could almost feel how my comrades’ flesh was cut and their bones crashed. If everything up till now was a blur, it was as clear at the cold, night sky. I can still remember the scent, the voices, the heat on my skin... The scene was huge, and after a while guards with other digimon showed up to break the fight. Only it was too late. My friends were severely injured, or even dead – I had no time to check them as I tried to protect the ones who could still run away. The opponents were fleeing before the guards could catch them, and for the first time in my entire life, I had felt something I have never before. Rage. Blinding rage, that fueled me to chase after the remaining members of the other gang. I didn’t care about whether I had a chance against them or not. I had a reason, they gave me a reason, and that was enough for me. I chased them, I fought them, and I injured them enough in my angry state of mind. But instead of killing me, they captured me, even though they had the chance to end me forever. I was locked up and questioned. It seemed that they knew more about the big picture than us. Of course, since they had a digimon, I thought. They weren’t satisfied with the situation and with the walls around them. They wanted them gone. They liked the chaos, and they wanted the worlds to merge and be one. They were tired of their old life, and they wanted the change, even if that meant the apocalypse. They disgusted me. Even if they knew more than me, they knew nothing, nothing about the real pain of loosing those you are ought to protect. The pain of being unable to do anything but watch your comrades die and get injured. The agony of being incompatible, unable to save anyone! They thought torture was fun. They weren’t really pro at it though. I could see that their nerves weren’t as strong for torture as they thought. Eventually, they left me pierced by my left wrist to the wall with a knife. They left me there to bleed to death, saying that it’s still better than being fed to the digimon of their comrade. It hurt, but it was nothing compared to what others went through. I didn’t even know how many of them were still alive. Are they in the hospital, being treated? Are they recovering already? How many days have passed anyway? I want to know if they are alright. I had a feeling some of them survived, and were recovering, but I couldn’t be sure. As my mind become more and more hazy, I started to think about what this gang’s members said. About the merging, about how they want the worlds to literally cease to exist. How could anyone in their right mind want that? What is going on? What is happening with the world? The worlds? I need to know I need to get behind all this and find out what is happening with the world. With my world. I want to protect it! My mind was clear for a moment, and my heart was racing. I saw light, and an object materialized in front of me with a creature. A digimon. My partner. The gang members were alarmed by the light and white noise my partner created, and rushed to the place I was locked up at. My partner hesitated no more, attacked the other digimon and rescued me from that place. I don’t remember everything, because blood-loss got the better of me and I passed out. I woke up in a hospital a day later, with IVs in my arm and bandages around my left wrist and hand. [[[…]]] That got long. I guess that was something that affected my life the most. Haha, I guess your comrades being massacred would burn into anyone’s memory. But it’s not only that. That was when I decided to not sit still, to train myself more, to devote myself to right the world. It sounds so cheesy and dramatic, but really... I always needed a reason. For everything. Even for living. And I guess I found it then. My left hand can still be used, but of course it isn’t as good as it was. The nerves were damaged, so I can’t hold anything with a sure grip. It’s kind of stiff too. I made it a habit to cover my wrist and hand, since the scar where the knife pierced through is still visible. I can still throw a good punch with it though, so I’m not that worried. I still have to learn a lot of things. I need to get better at what I do, and figure out what I can do. My partner is here to help. I know I can do it. I have faith in my instincts, even though my abilities are still not enough. I didn’t become distant. My comrades, who lived through what happened, decided to stay out of the darker side of the city while I willingly ventured into the danger of our world. But that’s how it should be. They were alright, and I was happy about that. My parents didn’t like what I had in mind. I don’t blame them. I just became even more of a troublesome child than I was. I started living alone, and told them I would visit them whenever I could. They shouldn’t worry about me. They should worry about the world, because I am only a small gear in the giant system. I didn’t tell them the details, or how I felt – how I feel. [[[…]]] Well, they said I shouldn’t always keep everything inside, and they are sure I also have problems I should talk about so I won’t break under pressure. But not like my problems are so important, and anyway, I wouldn’t talk to them about it. So I’m just talking to myself here like some idiot, and I don’t feel any different. At least I don’t think I do. Would talking about myself really make it better? I could use this energy to protect those who matter instead. With that said, I’ll now proceed to delete this recording so no one will ever find it. So no one will ever know about these things, unless I want them to. *CLICK* [[[DO YOU REALLY WANT TO DELETE YOUR RECORNING?]]] [[[YES]]] *DELETE* [[[DELETE COMPLETE]]] [[[FILE NOT FOUND]]] [[[SYSTEM SHUT DOWN]]] MEMBER NAME: Tama AGE: Old enough? OTHER CHARACTERS: No one ROLEPLAY SAMPLE Kei knew his situation might get worse, but he really couldn’t think of anything else right at that moment. With one hand carefully holding his stomach, he was leaning to a wall of an alleyway, peeking out into the night streets. There didn’t seem to be anyone following him among those people that he would rather keep a distance from. The black market people, Team Rocket, Epispect, the humans, even some of the gijinka, he was trying to avoid nearly everyone. But with an injury on his side, which didn’t really want to stop bleeding, he had to do something soon. Ironically enough, his healing ability could only heal others, but not himself... Sneaking around in the middle class district wasn’t as hard as he imagined, but with the injury, maneuvering around made it a little bit harder. His movement was a little slower, not because the wound was serious, but it was at a place it hindered him quite much, piercing into the muscles in his stomach, making moving around uncomfortable. He told himself to stay in the shadows, even though an injured fellow might not draw in too much attention from the normal people, any hunter would be able to get him easier. Finally spotting the desired apartment and its open window in the less crowded side of the street, Kei jumped up. He grit his teeth to hold back any noise that would sneak out due to the sting in his stomach, and perked on the windowsill for only a moment before stumbling into the room. He didn’t look around, so he wasn’t sure whether he was in a bedroom or a kitchen, but he noticed the few drops of blood staining the room’s floor. “Damn it...” He was indeed bleeding more than he should, but even then, he was sure his wound wasn’t actually that serious. Getting suddenly dizzy after the jump, Kei tried to steady himself by leaning on what appeared to be a night stand – was he in a bedroom after all? – but his hand slipped, and he fell on his knees, accidentally pushing a few books down as well. He was sure that made some noise... He just hoped the host wouldn’t get angry at him for staining the floor... |
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