Post by Kyou Yoshimura on Jan 9, 2009 3:44:19 GMT 1
;; fundamentals
full name;; kyou yoshimura
nickname;; darcy
birthday;; august 14
age;; 27 [turned] 160 [true]
sexual orientation;; heterosexual
job;; n/a
Canon;; n/a
Species ;; vampire
;; appearance
general;;
Darcy is pretty much your typical Japanese male from the ending of the samurai era. Heh, he is roughly 5'1" and only weighs in at around 90 lbs. if that. At first glance it is obvious that he is of Asian heritage, especially in the way he sometimes speaks. So basically there isn't much to his description other than pointing and saying, "See that Asian midget over there?" Yeah, he will be the one with the crazy clothes on that make him like something out of a horror movie.
However, anyone will see that Darcy loves his makeup styles. They vary from a wide variety, but it is all used mainly to frighten people away. He will purposely make his appearance unappealing to keep people from getting too close, but it would seem that he is still a child magnet. So whenever you see any sort of odd facial expression that makes you want to pinch those chubby cheeks, don't do it. He may be trying to make a scary face to scare you away. As much as he tries he isn't very good at being mean when it isn't absolutely necessary.
When he is serious, though, you will notice. His jaw will be set hard as stone and his eyes stern. You will come to know what each and every expression means the closer you are to him. He holds a wide range of faces that he wears, which can eventually be placed into more simpler catagories. You just have to watch for them.
favorite;;
[x] clothing style
[x] makeup style
hate;;
[x] height
[x] being considered "cute" constantly
heritage;; Japanese
ethnicity;; Asian
;; personality
general;;
Darcy can be best described as predictable. Even when you first meet him, you know what he's thinking. He has a very one-track mind, and he knows this well. He doesn't care, however, and goes on with his faults. He will allow this one weakness through, considering there really isn't any way to stop it without hard work. Stop it when he doesn't even want to. It would be a useless thing to do. The only time he isn't so set on being stubborn, though most other times he is very firm in his decisions on becoming better. Ever since becoming a 'warrior' at a young age. You are taught to better yourselves and remove all flaws. His predictable nature is something he wants to keep very much.
His choice of clothing and makeup is all due to his desire to protect people. Though his often harsh manner may make him seem as a threat, he has no desire to harm anyone. He is absolutely disgusted with what he is, but believes himself too weak to take his own life-- another reason he keeps his one major flaw. It isn't that he's lost the will to live, but just the fact that he despises what he is. Until his death comes, he is commited to doing all he can to protect what human life he can. "So that, maybe, though I cannot makeup for what I have done, I can keep others from falling to my fate, or my family's." -- Darcy. He feels very strongly about this, and will live to it. Or, really, how can one consider a cold unbeating heart living? In his eyes, he's a walking corpse. Very poetic, but very true. He's dead to everyone, especially himself.
But past that depression and lack of liking for himself, he is a very interesting character. After losing his childhood to the desire to become a warrior back in his age, it seems to have all returned. Though he wards off people, he can't help but entertian. In all pure and innocent fun he loves to hear laughter. Like a child he uses his flaws to make others smile. He says things that betray his attempts to keep people at a distance. He cannot help but be drawn to the things he desires to hear, even at the cost of his vow. After he's through he considers it a selfish act, but never truely regrets what he's done. He cannot decide whether to be upset by this fact, or take it into consideration. He's putting people in harm's way. In his way. But he just can't deny them their happiness. Especially a child.
Darcy adores children. Though much like a child himself, he has always dreamed of having a child of his own. Of course, now that is impossible. Unless he adopted a child of his own, but that isn't all he wants. He wants a family. All of these 'needs' are something he keeps very much to himself, but in the way he looks at these things it is obvious. To fulfill his parents' dreams of him marrying and having grandchildren. He often times wonders what would have happened had he obeyed his parents. Would he be standing here, today, cold as stone? Though, since it has no answer, he dismisses it for another time. But yes, he adores children. Even as a still-hearted, blood-sucking monster he can't help but defend families from his own kind. This weakness, he truly believes, mixed with his predictable movements will be his end. But when it comes, he'll happily take it if it's doing this.
As for his own kind, he hates them as much as himself. They're beauty, of course, does not attract him. Even if they claim, and have even proven that they will bring no harm to humans, he regards them as murderers. Anything with the need for bloodshed, is a lifeless, heartless being. It is as plain and simple as that. This is a reason he is in no coven, and does not wish to be one. Even a vampire that has been bitten when they were a child, and still look as such. That care he has for human children is not there.
As for werewolves, the thought of their existence has never occured to him. He may not be a new vampire, but because he has cut himself off from that world and those people he is not as well informed. Same goes for the existence of the Volturi. But if he did know, werewolves would be okay. The stench would not push him away as much as his own kind's muderous intentions. And the Volturi would only be just as revolting as the rest of his kind. Nothing will change there. But he may also keep his distance from werewolves, simply because of the fact he'd rather not die by being eaten. No, he would come up with the fact that werewolves are too clean to even touch something so vile as himself. It would be a shameful death in his eyes and he would definitely avoid it.
As for actual moods, a happy Darcy is an obvious one. His smiles are as pure as any human child's. His golden eyes gleam with a joy you would see in a new parent's eyes. Very few things upset him in this mood, and he finds it much easier to control himself. A sad Darcy is one you avoid. He hates talking about problems, since he thinks so lowly of himself. Though, in actuality, he loves when people show care for him. It makes him feel a little more human, or at least like he's doing a good job of protecting them for them to care. But, of course, you would have to be a good friend, otherwise he'd think he was just burdening you. A mad Darcy is one you definitely avoid, even more than a sad Darcy. When he's mad, he's unfocused and very short-tempered about everything. He is in much less control when he's angry, and this is the mood you will actually see him in the least. Upset is normally as far as it gets. As long as he can keep in control.
hobbies;;
[x] hair styling
[x] makeup styling [like halloween]
[x] researching war
dislikes;;
[x] drinking blood
[x] hurting people
[x] being a vampire
[x] being dirty
[x] his ability
[x] deceitful people
[x] snotty kids
likes;;
[x] the heightened senses
[x] being alone [or so he says]
[x] being with friends [what he won't admit]
[x] kids
[x] family settings
[x] doing people's hair
[x] doing people's makeup
Fears;;
[x] killing a child
[x] never having his own family
[x] dying at the hands of a vampire
[x]becoming a vampire
[x] hurting someone close
Secrets;;
[x] he can see your past [postcognition]*
*postcognition- the ability to see the past. Much like with Alice, it cannot just be stopped. But, unlike Alice, his vision cannot be blocked. What has happened has happened and nothing will change.
[x] he actually likes having friends
[x] he wants a family of his own [shh]
;; origins
general;;
[in first person for a better view]
I remembered it all very clearly. Not just the day of my 'death', but the day since I was capable of remembering. Once I realized how much I missed, suddenly everything came to me clearly. I was born in 1847. My father's stern features, the way my mother would gently kiss my forehead in praise for something I did well. I was the spitting image of my father, though slightly shorter, but I had my mother's personality. Nomatter the oppression, I was a hard worker at what I loved. My mother loved her family, and she worked diligently at anything she did. Cooking, cleaning, helping my father in the fields.... Because they never had another child besides me, there was always much more work to be done. Nomatter the workload, however, I was spoiled. A spoiled little brat. I didn't get the things I wanted, but I was the center of attention. I was absolutely adored. I was the savior of my family who would carry on the family name! I never realized how hard that would be. Now I can't even associate myself with who I was. I was so naive. I hate that about my former self. I wish I'd taken more pride in who I was rather than what I got. I just used my family's joy to make myself happy. I never really did anything for them in return.
I recall asking my father if I could join the small army our town was assembling. They were to fight off rogue samurai as the samurai era came to an end. I was twelve at the time, and of course my father told me no. He wondered if my having no one to take out my boyish roughness on was getting to my head. He never took me seriously, not him nor mother. They said they wanted me to have a happy life. To get married, have children, and watch my own children grow. At the time, it was a silly thought. Now I regret never doing it. The thought of my own children now... well, it's impossible.
In 1860, however, at the age of thirteen, I left home. I joined the small army, and they had no trouble with it at all. I never even looked back. I trained hard ti become strong, but in any real battle I was set on the sidelines. Not because of my age, though, but because of my size. I made it obvious that I despised them all for such a thought. I began disobeying orders and making orders of my own. People began to listen, as well. After fourteen long years, the aggressiveness paid off. I was assigned to be, what now you would call, a General. I led them onward into anything we faced, which was never more than a skirmish. It was boring, but I awaited the day something big would happen! I had had no idea how big it would be, and how soon everything I'd come to know would end. My friends, my family. They'd all dissapear in a flash of blood and screams.
Of course, I remember this day much more clearly. I'd heard rumors of two 'ghosts'. Pale-skinned ghosts in human form, taking the energy in the blood of humans. They traveled at unmentionable speeds, and their strength was grand. Their cold skin was enough to melt any defense, for their beauty was indescribable. The crimson eyes were said to be filled with the blood of their victims.... I thought it was silly. In all my days, the most mystical thing I had seen was myself eating a vegitable I'd never seen before. I was quick to dismiss it, not caring one bit. My soldiers were worried, but I made them hush. No reason to get the entire town in a huff just because it was only rumored that they were headed this way. I didn't think twice about my decision, which now I wish I had.
1874 was the day they came. I stood in the middle of a small road, chatting casually with friends. I looked up when everyone else did, my breath stolen in awe of the two goddesses who stood not far from us. I was just going to go welcome them when I noticed their appearance. They were the 'ghosts', but I still saw no harm in them. No fear rushed through me as I walked toward them, anyway. I bowed formally, politely, and stated my name. When I looked back up, they were smiling. For the first time, I was afraid. The glistening white teeth that sparkled stainlessly had me frozen. They both leaned in, one extending their hand toward me. She hooked a finger under my chin and lifted my gaze to hers. She continued to smile, as it gradually became harder and harder for me to breath as fear gripped tightly around my lungs.
"You're very cute for your age. Imagine..." she turned to the other female, who nodded toward her. She nodded back, then looked to me. I'd never had any real contact with women until then. Her face came close to mine, but she drew my head to the side. I could feel her cold breath against my skin, and then a sudden sharp edge. Every instinct told me to run, or to at least draw whatever weapon I had. My mind had gone completely blank, and even my name was hard to draw from memory. The pain was immense, as well, but I did not cry. I did not scream. I was locked in that position, dark brown eyes opened wide as I listened to the slurping and felt the warm drizzle of what I knew was my own blood drizzle down my neck. I could feel the blood drain from my face, but I could do nothing. I just waited for darkness to consume me, and it did. But it tortured me. It took my sight and my feeling, but it did not take my hearing. I will be forever tortured by those sounds.
When I woke up, everything was in ruins. Nobody breathed.... Not even me. I had no need to. And I had to. The stench of rotting blood even somehow drew me. I knew what had become of me. Those women, they were not ghosts. I'd heard stories of such creatures, but never believed in those tales. I knew then, though, that they were true. Vampires were real, and I was one of them. I felt my own skin, cold and hard as stone. I felt my chest.... Nothing beat. Not even the pulse you would get in your head when you were nervous or weak. I was just as lifeless as any other corpse, and yet I stood. I walked home, a place I hadn't been since I'd left. I hadn't seen my parents' faces, but I did that day. Horrified and distorted, I wanted to puke, but such an action seemed impossile. I went to the only mirror I knew we had, and it was shattered. But still I looked into it, and I saw myself. I was like them, pale and much more beautiful. But my eyes were black. A sickening red that terrified me. It wa slike I was empty of everything but blood. My soul had left me, and I feared my mind soon would, too. But it stayed loyally, even when the scent of blood made me a monster.
In the year of 1887, I moved to America for God knows why. I just needed to get away from home. I went to what is New York, and there I continued my destruction. It wasn't until I met another male vampire that I changed. He taught me the ways of a vegitarian, and at first I thought him mad. I thought that there was no way such a monster as I could become even a little less harmful, but he proved me wrong. Still, even so, I did not like him. He was just as much a murderer as I, and I did not want to associate with him. We went our seperate ways, and I traveled along.
Now, in 2007, I am still waiting for my demise. I wish to go down protecting the human race, but I will not be too picky. Maybe even protecting a small human child. I have vowed to keep them safe. But I have found myself in a more desolate place. Maybe this would be for the better? Forks, Washington. Dense with forest and even with an ocean on the side. No sun to turn me into a disco light, or at least not much. And then there was the different scents. Two I recognized distinctly, sweet and delicious, and the other I couldn't place. I revolting dog smell. So many of them, this would be the ideal place to die. So much confrontation was bound to happen. I was bound to be involved some way or another. I just have to be patient.
parents;;
YOSHIMURA, kaoru- father
YOSHIMURA, hikari- mother
siblings;; n/a
other;; n/a
;; roleplaying
sample;;
[yes, i do realize that newborns would not react this way. this was before twilight came out.]
Heavy clouds blocked out the sun's rays. Thunder rumbled in the far distance, but the rain had yet to fall in this desolate place. Three days. It had been empty that long, not a single heart left beating. This, however, did not mean the area was lifeless. In all the chaos, murder, and blood. No one left standing, no one need breath, but a pair of black eyes flicker open. The rotting stench of flesh and corpses was evident even to the human nose, but there was no human to smell. Senses now enhanced, the smell should have burned, but it didn't. The aroma was enticing, but unfulfilling. Why was it like this? The sick, old smell of salt and iron?
He layed there, eyes staring at the sky as he breathed it all in. He was afraid to look around him, already knowing the sight would scar him for life. But why was he alive? He remembered it so clearly. Everyone screaming, beautiful monsters drinking their life away. The same had happened to him, but he knew he was alive. All pain was gone, and as he realized how much stronger his senses were, he wondered if the stories were true. And he couldn't tell if he was lucky, or cursed. Had he become a beautiful monster? There was no water her thirsted for, but rather his partners.
Running his suddenly ice cold fingers through his dark, sandy blond hair, he decided he needed to see. See if it was real. He had to sit up, and he did so. His eyes narrowed in horror at the sight. All his friends, his family, everyone he knew lay scattered on the ground, pale, rotting, and lifeless. He waited for his heart to ache, but only the images tortured him. His heart no longer cried out like it had not long ago. He touched his fingers to his lips, then through to his teeth. No fangs. He stood and turned around, viewing all the terror.
He walked- is stride was quick and graceful, something it had certainly never been before- and he went back home. He went through his door, to his room. His mirror, cracked in half and shattered, still held his beauty from a million different angles. He would have been in awe of himself, he knew, if he were still human. But it still surprised him. His white, cold, hard skin and his black thirsty eyes. Everything about him perfected.
He was a monster. A monster disguised as an angel. He did not want that. Though his thrist overpowered him, he would let everyone know to stay away. He would change his appearance to frightening, to make up for the less impressive height. He would do his best to isolate himself, though knew it would be difficult. He would do it. He would find a way to make himself as human as possible, even if it were impossible.
;; behind the character
name;; Liza
age;; eighteen
gender;; female
years roleplaying;; too many
location;; us of a
How You found us;; erm... i forget...
