Post by AVOCADO * on Apr 1, 2010 5:10:40 GMT
( NO ROOM FOR MY OBSESSION )
LANDON CHAMBERLAIN
[/b][/color]LANDON CHAMBERLAIN
[/center]( SHEENA IS A PARASITE )
send her back across the sea.
[/b][/color][/center]send her back across the sea.
WHERE DID YOU FIND US• A Pokemon Fandom Roleplay, the Mysste Region.
CONTACTS • pm is fine.
OTHER CHARACTERS • N/A
ANYTHING ELSE • :3 I've been roleplaying for about eight years.
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( ADJUSTS HIS GOGGLES )
as the fog begins to thicken.
[/b][/color][/center]as the fog begins to thicken.
NICKNAMES• Seiichi Iwate (his other name), Ice Prince, Bastard Son..
AGE • 76 years old
APPEARS •19 years old
OCCUPATION • Demon Slayer
SPECIES • Youkai
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( IRRESPECTIVE OF THE SUBJECT )
i will make it apply.
[/b][/color][/center]i will make it apply.
EYES • While his hair may be just enough to get anyone's attention, his eyes are a bit lacking in luster behind the gleam of his glasses. They are an off-violet in color, more of a blue then anything else, and a perfect reflection of his mother's, which gleamed of a brilliant white-ice.
HEIGHT AND WEIGHT • He's a bit taller then most boys, standing at an almost towering height of five feet and eight inches. As for his weight, he comes in at about 145 pounds, but most of that is muscle. Despite being lean, he's also somewhat slight in his build.
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES• Other then the fact that he is a Youkai with white wings, there's a large gash running along his back, from a wound given to him by his mother. Also, when you peel his hair back just a little, at the edge of his forehead, you'll see a strange marking, like dried blood cracking, from where his father hit him with a broken beer bottle. His hands are sinewy and press flush against his bones, following along the rough contours of his skin. Along the line of his wrist, there is a carve of skin that writes on the left, the date of his birth and on the right, the date of his death. Yes, death.
ABILITIES•
Flight * Like his father, he has inherited the ability to fly. His wings are colored white and feathery, soft to the touch like silk, but they are unusually thick as well, almost as furry as a Hanyou' ears and tantalizing to touch. While he is nowhere near the adaption of his father, being able to fly at incredible speeds, Landon does have better control of his wings then some Youkai and can raise himself to great heights. However, with this, also comes the caring of wings and he finds it particularly difficult to fly during snow storms. Usually, then, he will walk. Or flutter, because he doesn't remember how to walk.
Transformation * Just like his father, he has the power to transform into a Ha-Inu. However, unlike his father, who was dark, colored a spell of evil, with molten blue for eyes, Seiichi is much softer. In the light, it mimics the color of strained sand, like silk spun into his fur, and looks sweet almost, like honey. Upon closer inspection, however, he is an almost ivory color, with only some yellow intertwined. He has the same feathered wings of his human form, yet different. The edges are dipped in blue, the same indigo of his hair. Sharp claws are shoved into large paws, with pads colored the inky black of his father's coat. As for his eyes, they are different too. Sometimes, in the light, his eyes are bright, a vivid honey suckle and a scar shields itself across his right eye, a fleshy pink mark. Yet, in his human form it is almost invisible, hidden beneath layers of skin and the gleam of his glasses. (It's there though, faint and ghostly, but barely.) Under the wash of the moonlight, his eyes are almost something else entirely. They become an even duller silver, muted ice, and the color of glass. It is nothing, it is empty, it is void. The color of his heart. LINK • LINK • LINK
Suspension * He is cursed with the same ability of his mother. It is frosted breath that can capture, not souls, but instead bones. Granted, Landon cannot make them move like his mother does. He doesn't lead them away to a slow, unforgiving death. He can't rip out their livers and their eyes. Perhaps, one day, he might be able to. But for now, in the present, the moment that his fingers, cold, wrap around flesh and he breaths the frosted breath onto the skin, the texture will crackle. There is time, to get away. There is time to flee. But if you don't, slowly but surely, his victim is paralyzed. Only paralyzed, because such a thing cannot kill. The ice filters into the bones, it freezes them, pauses their movement, restricting it. Then his teeth, sharp like his father's, will dig into the flesh at the neck and kill.
PLAYBY • Satoshi Hiwatari, DN Angel
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( TELL ME THE LOCATION )
i will stand outside.
[/b][/color][/center]i will stand outside.
DISLIKES • Emotions, Closeness, His Ha-Inu Father, His Yuki-Onna Mother, Oni, Laughter, the Sun, Company, , etc.
STRENGTHS • Despite looking scrawny, he is surprisingly well-apt in the field of physical strength, with corded muscles running through his sinewy skin. His kicks are stronger than his punches, but being a youkai, he easily surpasses human strength. While he does not have furry ears, like his father, he does have speed which lets him race across terrain and his ears, pointed, give him a better sense of hearing as well. He has excellent sight. As for mental attributes, he's a person who will never give up and sticks close to his values. Landon is loyal and brilliant, even if he rarely shares his information with anyone else.
WEAKNESSES • Because he is not a pure-blood Youkai, made of a single kind, he can be considered weak among other Youkai. There are blemishes along his skin, which would make for a less perfect being, and bruises from long ago that seared his skin. . From an accident in his youth, he has a twist in his ankle that will occasionally give him trouble and cease movement in the most dire situations. Underneath his shirt, his skin is marred, each scar engraved into his flesh. He's also a person who is cold, demanding and refuses to seek help from anyone else. Landon has a short temper and is easily annoyed by "lesser" beings, but refuses to show it. In short, Landon is cold, demanding and has a slow ferocity which is almost painful.
FEARS • There are, in fact, a lot of things that tend to scare a Youkai such as himself, regardless of what he thinks of them. His biggest fear, however, would be getting close to someone. Commitment, he can't deal with it. Following up, while he will easily slice the neck of Youkai and Hanyou alike, he will not lay a finger on Ningen, for some strange reason.
PERSONALITY •
There is nothing to say about Landon. There is nothing at all. Landon, a Youkai, who would spend his entire life covering his tracks if he could, refuses to share any part of himself with his parents, his friends and even more so, any stranger that passes him by. Upon first glance, he is taken for someone cold, solemn and someone entirely fearsome, only because there is no emotion in his eyes but cold frost. His eyes, despite being that deep violet-blue, is full of ice.
While Landon will not hesitate in putting down someone that he thinks deserves such a drastic fate like death, especially a Youkai, he will hesitate in the face of a Ningen. A Ningen, who is so much weaker than he is, who he could just as easily rip the face off of, to feel their flesh gather in the bones of his fingers, who his dark eyes would scan with a shivering accuracy, who's skin is thin and flail in the eye of his own sinewy strength. It is Landon, who will very easily tear apart a Youkai or a Hanyou without a second glance, who's greatest shortcoming is the weakest creatures of this world and the next.
Born as the bastard son of two full-fledged Youkai, he was raised into the world of the weak as a demon's spawn. Perhaps, spurred from this sudden fate, this is why he is so cold and perceptive, who flinches at the mention of his fake parents and will seethe with real, cold anger at the mention of his real ones. Landon is serious, brutal and as for anything else that may concern him, he will be sure to kill the rumors that tend to float around him, suffocating him, surrounding him.
Landon has never, in the enterity of his life, made a real friend. This is a secret that he will take to his grave. You see, when he was young, he used to have lots of friends, real friends, but as we all know, when we are young the friends we make then are not our real friends. We hug people we meet on the street. We smile at them. Does that mean we like them? Not necessarily. It is only the friends that we make later in life that last, and for a person, or Youkai, like Landon, he pushes anyone away who threatens to break the wall that he has built up around him. And over the many years he has lived, there hasn't been a single person who wants to risk trying to break that wall, for finding themselves in fear of being broken themselves.
And of all things, Landon is careless. While he may be mistaken for emotionless, he is also quiet and awkward when put in a room where he is not forced to kill someone. When he is questioned about person things, he jumps to the defense, seething and sputtering, like a bubbling, fizzing pot of icy fire. He will shun you, and shun anyone, who decides to enter his personal space and yet, once you are there, in his bubble, you are there forever. Landon is, underneath the hard exterior, someone who is almost sweet, but loyal. He is stubborn to a fault and will do anything he can to save those he cares about.
Despite being cold and secluded, Landon Chamberlain also is quiet. He is silent and vulnerable, because he is a person who had been abandoned by his mother. A mother is a person that every person needs, whether it is biological or not, and he was convinced, as a teenager, that his grandmother, no matter how much he had loved her, could not have substituted for that. His grandmother, a sweet old women who learned to hate him with a vengeance once learning who he was, and thrust him aside quickly and carelessly as if he worth nothing at all. Landon Chamberlain is a beast, a demon, who yearns for attention but doesn't know how to approach it.
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( FORCE TOO MANY INTO MY HAND )
and i will not comprehend.
[/b][/color][/center]and i will not comprehend.
"SIBLINGS" • Colton Lefevre, Benett Lefevre, and Noah Roux.
SIGNIFICANT OTHERS• N/A
HISTORY •
I. THE DROP OFF
It was a cold, frosty night in the middle of december. Glitter fell from the sky in molten crystals, melting against the very specific darkness, and the air smouldered in the windows, covering the quaint little house in fog. There was a flicker of movement in the air, swallowing and fluttering, behind the neighbor houses. Green folded hills trembled and shuddered as she made her way over them, to the houses. Here eyes, the color white-ice, slid over the window and the cold in the air burned her throat, carrying the skinny baby in her arms. He was sleeping, his face colored pale, and she took a hand to his face, brushing his thin hair away from the flushed skin. He mumbled and stretched, fisting tiny hands in the sweater that he was cradled in. "Mama..." His mumble was soft, thin, hanging on the air like a shadow.
The Youkai looked at her son, with his pale hair that bled over his face in the same way that his father's did and his eyes, soft but deep, that penetrated her. His face was flush against the cold, pressed tight against the wool sweater that she had stolen off of some harmless Ningen, but his mouth was wet and cold as they latched onto her finger, sucking. " Ma..ma..." he drooled along her skin, making it feel cold like ice, despite the hot redness she saw leak into his skin, growing flush with another lash of wind. Emi took a deep breath, a whisper of frost whistling through her teeth, and felt the cold burn in her throat, hissing and sputtering. She made her way over to one of the houses, and wrapped her knuckles twice against the door. She leaned down, floating, and pressed her knuckles along his forehead again. Baby boy....
" Se..iichi.." she murmured, a sound that came along her teeth more like a hiss. That was the problem with Youkai like her, the Yuki-Onna. If she pulled her face too close to him, her son, she might suck out what little life he had left. Not like the Ningen, with their soft voices, a lull of sound, that made for comforting murmurs, the kind of sweet sounds that babies like Seiichi Iwate needed. He blinked his milky eyes up at his mother, his mouth popping off of her thumb, and he looked up at her, eyes wet and moist. " Ma.. ma?" His voice rose a pitch.
She looked at him, pulling the white ice over her expression again, and gathered the strength in her muscles once more. Emi felt lighter, thinner, but that was what she was supposed to feel like. Not a mother. She looked at him, tilting her head at his face. It was flush again, full of confusion. He lifted a hand to reach for her. But she was gone, slipped into the hanging air, like a ghost.
" Ma...ma...."
II.THE NEW FAMILY
He pressed his hands against the bars of his playpen and let out a soft whine, a murmur against the air. The day was spilling through the windows now and the warmth was barely there, soft and grasping, against his hair. In the pale light of the morning, his hair had been washed an almost violet hue and he turned his eyes, sweet indigo, to the door. That cry escaped his lips again, feeble and soft before it rolled into a twisted caterwaul, flipping the wings upon his back weakly. His body was bare, but smooth, and the only thing that covered him was a diaper, feather-like and soft against his skin. The baby boy looked up, into the softness of the morning, and cried again.
"Lannyy, " a voice came from the hallway and the boy ceased his crying and looked up into the night. He smacked his chapped lips together, curiosity filling his gaze and shifted against the softness of his play pen. It had been a few weeks since he had been dropped on the doorstep and adopted by a rather rich, well-off French family. Now, they didn't own a mansion. Or maybe they did and Seiichi hadn't seen it yet.
The boy looked up, gurgling, and raised his arms to the old lady who had entered the room. Her eyes were soft, but her skin was old and wrinkly. When she reached down to take ahold of him, it took all of his will power not to flinch. Immediatley, his wings retracted back into his skin -- they tended to do that you know, retract -- and he felt fear bubble up inside of him.
He swallowed thick, and if he could have, he would have flicked his ears away, pressed them tight against his head. He wriggled. " Lannny, " she cooed gently into his ear and tried placing him onto her hip. Her fingers were papery over his skin, but her eyes were soft on his and he looked up at her, pale eyes wider than anything, reminded of his mother. His sweet mother who had smelled of snow and ice cream. She pressed a wet kiss to his cheek and hooked him over her him, bouncing him lightly. He sniffled, choking on his tears, and stopped wriggling. He fisted his hands into her clothing. " Lanny, baby boy.." she sung softly, her breath whispy and gentle. The boy buried his face in her neck. She smelled soft too, baby-powder soft, but sweet, so sweet that he wondered if he should reach forward, he might be able to taste candy.
There was a lower voice, but younger, that swelled into the room and the child lifted his face up to see the figure of a man walk into the room. While the old lady that cradled him was well into her sixties, if not older, the new figure was young and middle-aged. He had a nicely carved face, but it was broad, and it could not have been his father. The man smelled of soap, or something freshly shaved, and had eyes the color of pine. He walked forward, to greet his mother, and Seiichi rubbed his bleary eyes with a fist, noticing the wrinkles that pressed itself around the man's forehead, his cheeks, and the grayed hairs that tweaked itself into his bronze hair. " Mama," he said, softly, placing a broad hand on the old women's shoulder and his voice was thick, with a strangely tantalizing accent. Then, he leaned forward and spoke to her, only to her, his tone hushed with foreign syllable that baby Seiichi had yet to comprehend.
"Mais Olivier!," she suddenly burst out, apparently astounded about what she heard. Seiichi looked up then, curious, and pressed his lips together, straining his ears to here those words. He had heard it before, heard his mother speak those foreign words, but those had been different. The syllables were cut up and quick, swift to hear and to follow. Seiichi had been young, and the memory of his mother was fading. These words, they spoke now, were soft and delicate, flowing into each other in a way that he couldn't even grasp. But he caught some words. "Keep", "Fare", "It's cold", and "Death." Then, from the son, " No", "Sophia is", " You know that, " and then finally, a resigning sigh, "Maybe, Mama."
Maybe?
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