Post by .:Forgotten Hope:. on Feb 21, 2007 18:20:21 GMT -5
mleh. Couldn't find a good picture. -.- I might just have to get a picture of the guy he's based off of...0.o
Name: Matthias
Age: 14, close to 15
Height: 5'3
Weight: 116
Gender: Male
Orientation: straight
Heritage: Irish (lesser part)// American
Family's Income: Medium
Appearance: Short and cute. That's the first impression you get at a glance. Ruffled brown hair, shortened to the ears. Well, not too short, but a bit low on the scale of size. Pale tan skin, with a few freckles. And the most beautiful eyes you could imagine. Greenish brown, they can hold the worlds thoughts; or they can be empty and cold.
Any piercings or tattoos: none
History: 16 different homes. 16 different chances and opportunities. 16 chances to start a new life. And 16 reasons to leave.
Matthias's parents were normal. Raising two kids, earning a normal salary working at a shop and in the military. They rarely had any time to talk to eachother, let alone to the two kids. Matthias's dad worked for the army, doing any odd jobs, filling any spaces needed. The two were best of friends. He brought home trinkets, giving sharing them evenly between the two kids. Matthias's favorite gift was the five-inch dagger that had been given to him on his tenth birthday.
His mother worked in a drug store. Not an illegal one, but a normal pharmacy. But that didn't mean she smoked. Or took any ther kind of drug. Arriving home late at night, she'd often stumble into the bedroom and slam the door, not emerging until late the next day.
Matthias's family, because of his dad's job, never stayed in the same place for more than ten months. It was sad. Every move, the poor boy wanted to run away, but his fatehr was his positive influence in life. So Matthias stayed.
One night, his father came home early and went straight up to his bedroom, not even greeting the two boys. Their mother had been killed in a car crash. Matthias sat up in his room for three days and wouldn't come out.
Then about a year later, a police cop came to the house and knocked on the door. His father had been killed in a road-side car bomb. Devestated, Matthias and his brother were taken to an orphanage, where they lived for over two years. Matthias would stare at the dagger, lost in it's memories, until the sad memoires would jerk forth uncontrollable sobbing, drenching the metal scythe with tears.
Then the fire ruined it all. Flames, red as the sun, leaped, licking the black sky, engulphing the small building with it's intense rage. Crawling along the hallway, the boy managed to escape the burning building and stood, petrified, outide on the sidewalk as the fire engines sped down the street, their sirens wailing. The fire was put out, but without taking it's toll. Fifteen of the twenty something children were killed, one of which was Matthias's brother. At sunrise, the lone boy strayed onto the smouldering rubble of the charred remains. A glitter caught his eye, and he picked up the blade in his hands. The rising sun streaked it blood-red, and symbolized the beginning of a new hope.
Personality: Bold and daring are the first words that can be used to describe this boy. On the outside, maybe, but inside, Matthias is cracking. His attitude is a cover. He's really lonely for life, never wanting to live. But he just can't seem to take it away.
Why did this person run away to Tilani City?: There wasn't much choice. Either run, or be found. And who knows how bad that might have been.
Anything else I need to know?: ...He still carries the dagger with him. A bit of a warrior, actually. ..Or a ninja...*shifty eyes* well, I'll just stick with the bold warrior thing.
IC||
What happens after Death? The boy fingered the sharp blade in his hand, running his fingers over it's smooth edge. Is Death even real? The blade looked rather tempting now. It could all end. What was the point of living? To die? Well, why not make it now?
Angling it so the sun caught on it's metal, Matthias stared at his reflection. His brown hair was a bit dusty from hiding in the abandoned warehouse. The rough metal machines had cut up his skin pretty bad, and sctarches were visible from under the thin layer of grit over the freckles. The green eyes darted to the barred door of the warehouse; a rusty scringe had sounded from outside. Dashing to the back, he slipped behind a stack of crates, peering out from behind. The door creaked again, and then sudenly an explosion of wood chips and dust erupted from the shattered doorframe.
Voices shouted from outside, and the boy took his chance to slip into a better place. He scaled to the top of the crates, sitting perched in the deep shadows at the top, watching. Waiting. Shadows flickered over the enterance, and four figures stalked in. Shouting to one another, they prodded the boxes, reading the labels. Matthias shifted his position again, sending grit cascading with a whoosh to the floor below. He paused, tense, as one of the men below looked up to the top. "I think someone's here," The robber whispered to the others beside him. "Someone get the lights,"
Suddenly there was a swift movement, and the robbers whirled around to see what caused it. Nothing but the cobwebs were able to be seen. The second man shuffled over to the lights, and then a muffled scream. The body went dead before it even hit the ground. The three remaining robbers scattered to the lights, and flipped the switch hastily. The slain body of their companion littered the floor, laying in a pool of his own blood. His throat was slitted neatly, the work of only a few seconds.
They glanced up at where the crates had hosted the fall of the grit, where they knew not, but the boy Matthias had been poised only a second ago. Nothing was there.
MODIFIED: uhh..no, I'm not stalking Matthias. The name I got was from a book I'm reading...
Age: 14, close to 15
Height: 5'3
Weight: 116
Gender: Male
Orientation: straight
Heritage: Irish (lesser part)// American
Family's Income: Medium
Appearance: Short and cute. That's the first impression you get at a glance. Ruffled brown hair, shortened to the ears. Well, not too short, but a bit low on the scale of size. Pale tan skin, with a few freckles. And the most beautiful eyes you could imagine. Greenish brown, they can hold the worlds thoughts; or they can be empty and cold.
Any piercings or tattoos: none
History: 16 different homes. 16 different chances and opportunities. 16 chances to start a new life. And 16 reasons to leave.
Matthias's parents were normal. Raising two kids, earning a normal salary working at a shop and in the military. They rarely had any time to talk to eachother, let alone to the two kids. Matthias's dad worked for the army, doing any odd jobs, filling any spaces needed. The two were best of friends. He brought home trinkets, giving sharing them evenly between the two kids. Matthias's favorite gift was the five-inch dagger that had been given to him on his tenth birthday.
His mother worked in a drug store. Not an illegal one, but a normal pharmacy. But that didn't mean she smoked. Or took any ther kind of drug. Arriving home late at night, she'd often stumble into the bedroom and slam the door, not emerging until late the next day.
Matthias's family, because of his dad's job, never stayed in the same place for more than ten months. It was sad. Every move, the poor boy wanted to run away, but his fatehr was his positive influence in life. So Matthias stayed.
One night, his father came home early and went straight up to his bedroom, not even greeting the two boys. Their mother had been killed in a car crash. Matthias sat up in his room for three days and wouldn't come out.
Then about a year later, a police cop came to the house and knocked on the door. His father had been killed in a road-side car bomb. Devestated, Matthias and his brother were taken to an orphanage, where they lived for over two years. Matthias would stare at the dagger, lost in it's memories, until the sad memoires would jerk forth uncontrollable sobbing, drenching the metal scythe with tears.
Then the fire ruined it all. Flames, red as the sun, leaped, licking the black sky, engulphing the small building with it's intense rage. Crawling along the hallway, the boy managed to escape the burning building and stood, petrified, outide on the sidewalk as the fire engines sped down the street, their sirens wailing. The fire was put out, but without taking it's toll. Fifteen of the twenty something children were killed, one of which was Matthias's brother. At sunrise, the lone boy strayed onto the smouldering rubble of the charred remains. A glitter caught his eye, and he picked up the blade in his hands. The rising sun streaked it blood-red, and symbolized the beginning of a new hope.
Personality: Bold and daring are the first words that can be used to describe this boy. On the outside, maybe, but inside, Matthias is cracking. His attitude is a cover. He's really lonely for life, never wanting to live. But he just can't seem to take it away.
Why did this person run away to Tilani City?: There wasn't much choice. Either run, or be found. And who knows how bad that might have been.
Anything else I need to know?: ...He still carries the dagger with him. A bit of a warrior, actually. ..Or a ninja...*shifty eyes* well, I'll just stick with the bold warrior thing.
IC||
What happens after Death? The boy fingered the sharp blade in his hand, running his fingers over it's smooth edge. Is Death even real? The blade looked rather tempting now. It could all end. What was the point of living? To die? Well, why not make it now?
Angling it so the sun caught on it's metal, Matthias stared at his reflection. His brown hair was a bit dusty from hiding in the abandoned warehouse. The rough metal machines had cut up his skin pretty bad, and sctarches were visible from under the thin layer of grit over the freckles. The green eyes darted to the barred door of the warehouse; a rusty scringe had sounded from outside. Dashing to the back, he slipped behind a stack of crates, peering out from behind. The door creaked again, and then sudenly an explosion of wood chips and dust erupted from the shattered doorframe.
Voices shouted from outside, and the boy took his chance to slip into a better place. He scaled to the top of the crates, sitting perched in the deep shadows at the top, watching. Waiting. Shadows flickered over the enterance, and four figures stalked in. Shouting to one another, they prodded the boxes, reading the labels. Matthias shifted his position again, sending grit cascading with a whoosh to the floor below. He paused, tense, as one of the men below looked up to the top. "I think someone's here," The robber whispered to the others beside him. "Someone get the lights,"
Suddenly there was a swift movement, and the robbers whirled around to see what caused it. Nothing but the cobwebs were able to be seen. The second man shuffled over to the lights, and then a muffled scream. The body went dead before it even hit the ground. The three remaining robbers scattered to the lights, and flipped the switch hastily. The slain body of their companion littered the floor, laying in a pool of his own blood. His throat was slitted neatly, the work of only a few seconds.
They glanced up at where the crates had hosted the fall of the grit, where they knew not, but the boy Matthias had been poised only a second ago. Nothing was there.
MODIFIED: uhh..no, I'm not stalking Matthias. The name I got was from a book I'm reading...
