Post by forsaken on Nov 9, 2009 17:46:08 GMT -7
† Azazel - Barkley – Connor†
†AZ†
[/center]† General Information †
Full Name: Connor, Barkley Azazel
Nicknames: AZ/ Zel/ ABC (if ya wanna die!)
Gender: Male
Race: Australian Werewolf
Age: 125
Age they appear: 25
Orientation: Bi (but he’ll never admit his affinity for young pretty men)
Health Problems: He’s legally blind in his left eye when in human form. But of course, in wolf form this improves.
† Personality †
Basic Personality:
Ever Australia’s favorite bad ass, Azazel is the hot-headed, drunken, rocker that people hate to love. Parents are shamed to know that their children idolize this man, but have to admit that some of his antics entertain even the shrewdest of grannies. He can be a people’s person if he so desires, the life of any party so long as he’s near sober.
After the first few hours, he will likely be intoxicated. Even at a kid’s birthday party, if there’s a drop of alcohol within a three mile radius he is sure to find it. Afterwards, he’ll probably be louder and ruder but not quite violent unless provoked. In the latest hours, the drinks will have to be pried from his hands.
Luckily, he doesn’t go to a party or club every night. Some nights he’ll stay in, play his electric guitar, write music, drink (of course), and sink into the deep depression from loneliness. Most nights, he prowls the quiet streets, checking out women and picking targets for a meal. If he keeps moving he can forget the sting of being alone in the world. Of course, he’s met other werewolves, but in Australia they are particularly blood-thirsty which doesn’t interest Azazel in the least, yet.
That’s everyday of his current life style. In his mind there are much darker issues. He has a fear of abandonment so any mate (man or woman) he loves is guaranteed to be showered by affection and stalked by a “large dog”. Those who try and break up with him are killed before the next morning, after a whole night of begging and sorrowful howls. Needless to say, Azazel doesn’t put himself through this often, so rarely does he love his mates.
He also has anger issues, partly because of the drinking, but mostly because of his frustration with his own wild nature. Every few days or so, he grows angry with the vicious circle that is his life. He realizes that he could go on forever like this, riding the highs of drinking and being in love; then growing depressed when things aren’t going well; then growing angry and dissatisfied with his life and mates. These angry spells rarely last long because he usually begins obsessing with his music to avoid his deeper problems. And so the paradox of Azazel continues, endless.
Likes:
† LOUD MUSIC
† Attention
† Beer, wine, champagne (Alcohol in general)
† Slender women
† Bar fights
† Wars
† Good jokes
† Fires
† Jewelry
Hates:
† Being lectured
† Cocky People
† Hangovers
† Whiny women
† Screaming (therefore screamers)
† Smoke
† Wearing Suits
Talents:
† He’s got an incredible voice with a very sexy accent
† He plays electric guitar excellently
† He also plays piano (usually angrily, so the sound is fearfully beautiful)
† He’s good at playing dumb, hiding behind a happy goofball smile, while plotting the deaths of people he dislikes
† He’s a good thief when it comes to small stores (not that he needs to be since he’s rich now)
† Though he’s hotheaded and quick to rush killings, he’s surprisingly good at cleaning them up.
Habits:
† Impatience
† Quick killer (usually likes the fear in his victims but despises hearing them scream, so he finishes fast and plays with his food after)
† He dislikes socks. He’s known to even go on stage barefoot.
† He’s a heavy drinker
† He tends to be flirty and gentle with women, but tends to tease, sometimes even harass, the men he finds attractive.
† Appearance †
Skin Color: White
Hair Color: Rich Chestnut Brown
Eye Color: Chocolate Brown
Build:
Piercings/Scars/Tattoos: Twelve black-thorn roses circling his navel. He’s got the faint outline of a three-clawed scratch on his lower right back.
Choice of Clothing: Usually tight black t-shirts that usually cut short above his waistline (always some sort of silver-colored design on the front). He wears pants that are tight around his waist but fall loose the rest of the way down. He’s never without a neck chain, or spiked bracelet. He doesn’t bother with piercing.
Wolf Appearance: Azazel transforms into a bulky muscled, four foot five inch tall chestnut colored werewolf.
other: None
† History †
History: Azazel was born to two werewolves in Sydney, Australia 1874. His parents were viciously murdered by a brute who had wanted his mother first. Azazel had not been with them at the time. He was with his babysitter, which is the only reason he survived.
Without any other known relatives, Azazel was sent directly to the nearest orphanage where he spent ten miserable years being bullied by other boys. He didn’t realize what he was, what his powers were for many years but he knew he felt pains late a night and especially under the moon. He only fully understood his heritage upon meeting a young werewolf named, Amethyst. He was out swinging on the playground one night, having jumped out the second story window and landing virtually uninjured. Suddenly, a large black dog was running at him. She could have killed him, had she not recognized the boy’s human form. He had his mother’s eyes, and his father’s hair.
Amethyst was an old friend of Azazel’s mother. A very old friend. As a tribute to her friend, she took Azazel under her wing and aided him through his difficult changes. After the young boy had begged for a few years, she finally adopted him when he was fifteen years old. By then, she had already become more than a mentor to him. But alas, a brute seeking to mate with her began chasing them around Australia. To protect young Azazel, Amethyst drugged him and left on a boat. She left no trace behind.
It was the late 1890’s and Azazel was alone in the world. So began his vicious lifestyle of drinking, falling in love, and killing. But back then he wasn’t rich so on top of that he entered the business of thievery. Amethyst had taught him a little, but he became bolder and more reckless without her. He was lucky enough to not be caught stealing but did plenty of single nights in jail for disturbing the peace.
Around the early 1900’s, Azazel discovered something new and wondrous. Music lured him to it and he devoured it completely. He started with the piano, playing in pubs that had closed for the night but making the occasional public appearance. He knew not to become too well-known, or it would bring attention to the fact that he’d stopped aging. Otherwise life was pretty much the same, except less thieving because of tips he was getting as performer.
Then, came the discovery of rock and roll. It came later to Australia later than most other countries, but it hit just as hard. His true calling was fully realized. His voice was perfect for the lead singer of Caged Beasts. The irony of the name never struck him. But slowly, the bands name faded, leaving only Azazel before the ecstatic crowd.
Years passed. But he grew tired of even this. He longed to see Amethyst, but he had no clue where to look. So he decided to travel to places that she had told him about late at night. He called it, his “World Tour” and traveled all of Russia and Europe. He arrives in London, wondering: Why the hell would she come to this forsaken island? Is she really here?
Mother/Father: Dead, he never knew them
Siblings: None
Offspring: None
Other: None
† RP example †
The sun’s light had yet to touch the barren land. The grey, brittle, grass made the land bleak. The trees stood stark and bare against the cold brown earth. The mountains were harsh teeth surrounding this dreadful place, where the beauty of magic had taken a horrid turn. This place had once been the Eden of the world. The emerald grass once rolled beneath the gentle breeze. The trees once stood gracefully, full of swaying leaves, providing shade when needed. The sun had blessed this place with its soft touch, always careful not to scorch. The water such a sparkling cyan was the purest ever to be found. Now it is a muddy green.
It was all the humans doing, they who had once inhabited this now forsaken place. They meddled had discovered the ways of fairy magic and decided to try their hand. They chopped down the proud trees to make their magic sticks, which were latter named “wands”. They started by bending the water to their will, twisting it into the air and making strange shapes. Then they used their magic to dig up and mold the earth into “houses”. Then they controlled the winds and created flying machines. Then the bent the shadows and brought them to life and made them pets they called “wolves”. Finally they came to light, but the light would not be moved. Light refused to bend to their will. Light refused to be controlled, so humans made it alive instead. They called it fire, but fire was just as disobedient. Fire went wild and burned down the houses, scorched the Earth, destroyed the trees,. It tainted the water and made the sky violet with its smoke. Most importantly, it killed many humans. The human survivors, unable to control or put out the fire, used their magic to create mountains and trapped the fire. Fire starved to death and disappeared.
Humans went to live alone and rebuild their lives elsewhere, in a less perfect part of the world. They built houses, aircrafts, and aqueducts all by hand, for they distrusted magic now. They smashed their wands and buried them deep within the earth. So they would never be tempted again. A great magician, Phineas, still believed magic would someday be needed again, so he secretly copied down all he knew of it in a red book with a golden spine and put it on his huge bookshelf, which was stuffed with new scientific books.
While restocking books in her local library, Artemis Driscall knocked into a bookshelf. She cursed as a large pile of books came crashing down behind her. This was typical of her, she was unbelievably clumsy for a teenage girl.
“What happened?” Mr. Larky called from the front of the shop. Artemis could imagine his big ears shifting in order to hear better.
“Nothing!” She called as she quickly gathered some books to her chest. Her glasses fell off and she groaned. Dropping her books again, she got on her hands and knees to search. Her stringy crow hair fell over her face and she wanted to cry. Why was she so clumsy? Then she found her glasses and shoved them back onto her pale face. Her dark eyes adjusted and she saw a large red book she’d never seen before.
Picking it up and examining it, it definitely did not belong among the science books, which all had telescopes and frogs on the covers. She flipped the book over, but it had no title. Odd, she thought.
“Customers!” called Mr. Larky excitedly. The library wasn’t a very popular place.
Quickly, Artemis shoved the weird book under her arm and ran to the stores front. “Coming.”
† Let's talk about you †
Name: Forsaken
Other Characters: Not yet
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