Post by blake on Dec 22, 2009 16:46:06 GMT -7
† Blake - Taylor - Evans †
† Blake†
[/center]† General Information †
Full Name: Blake Taylor Evans
Nicknames: Blake
Gender: Male
Race: Vampire
Age: One-hundred and twenty-two
Age they appear: Twenty-four
Orientation: Straight... most of the time.
Health Problems: Has a severe Claustrophobic mind, and multiple personalities called Hatred, Insanity, and Panic.
† Personality †
Basic Personality:
Blake's personality, in one word, would be insane. He takes on insane ideas, insane notions, talks to himself, and makes sure everyone just doesn't care about it. Whether it's annoying people he shouldn't be annoying, or just about anybody, he would be the one laughing out loud whenever there is death or killing. Blood itself makes him even more animalistic, and doesn't really have any remorse in killing whenever there's a vampire trying to take his kill. But all in all, randomness, insanity, and sadisticness reins free in his mind.
---
| Insane | Random | Sadistic | Switching | Hatred | Insanity | Panic |
| Animalistic |
| Insanity is bliss... |:: Insanity reins free in Blake's mind, due to realizing that sanity is a hell of a lot harder then just letting go, and being free from all that annoyance when he was in his right mind. He got annoyed to easily then, and was made fun of when humans. Ha! Yeah right. He doesn't even remember those times anymore, and is frequently seen with a smirk on his face, holding some limp human in his hand. Either way, insanity could also be measured in the way he talks, and suddenly starts laughing at a sullen moment. Whenever someone dies, he laughs, whenever someone spills their blood, the smirk changes into one of a sadist. He laughs when he shouldn't, and is completely serious when it would have been wise not to do so. Either way, insanity it his language. You had better not be able to be annoyed easily.
| Randomness! |:: Blake could spout in the randomness he has with a simple grin at a person's death bed, or having someone glance weirdly at what he just said. Either way, everything falls into place with him, and not so much for other people. Other people (vampires, werewolves and humans alike), never seem to have untangled the mystery that is Blake. He constantly keeps people wondering if he has a screw loose in his mind, and, truth is, he most certainly does. Several, in fact, were completely unscrewed a few years ago. Now he doesn't care if people see him as a guy that has issues; he just sees them as potential lunch, or a person that he would have fun 'playing' with. Watch all you guys talk about something, and he says something completely off topic, and you might get a hint of what he does on every day life.
| Sadistic |:: All of his personalities are sadistic, no matter how you turn them around. Except the exception of Panic, he loves the fact that when they scream, he gets pleasure from it. He loves the fact that when they cringe, he gets that little snicker he always does. He never actually fully kills them until there's to much blood for him to handle without biting the victim. Normally he likes crunching the humans bones first, before the spilling. Otherwise he can't see how much damage he would have done without drinking the humans dry... Sometimes he even lures the humans with seductive measures. All the more reason that he just loves inflicting pain on other people.
| Switching |:: Switching is Blake's main... problem, I guess you could say. He switches when the main boss is talking, when someone normal is talking, or when someone's fighting him. Just a problem he has that h uses to the best of his ability. He doesn't entirely knows how to stop it from happening, but he does know when it's coming. Headaches are a frequent thing he has going almost all the time, and when that happens, then he switches. Simple as that... so if your privileged (and willing), to be his friend, he might tell you when he's going to. Most likely not, to many people's annoyance's.
| Hatred |:: Hatred is one of his personalities of which he has named: Hatred. For a appropriate reason, due to Hatred not taking a liking to anyone, or anything. Anything that pisses him off gets killed, or try to do so. Simple as that. However he doesn't express outward anger, instead there is a cold non-remorseful air around him. Even more then the other personalities. Hatred doesn't come all the time, and only forces himself to control when someone as a) pissed them off, or b) they are being threatened. He's like the 'protector' of the group, and comes along whenever there's a fight, or a current threat. He considers only the other personalities his family and friends, and is only seen being friendly with them. Hatred has a posture that's aggressive, defensive, and icy wrapped in one, with fangs almost always bared. He talks with a series of growls, hisses, snarls, and a mixture of all three. Never does he talk humans.
| Insanity |:: Insanity is just that: pure insanity. He likes being around whenever blood is present, and is the one laughing out loud every time someone gets shot and killed, tortured, or the mere though of anything like that. All in all, Insanity is one sick side of Blake, and seems to be fascinated with humans blood. Now, it doesn't mean that he take great care around humans; quite the opposite. In fact, he's normally seen being very sick, and playing around in it. Insanity is normally aroused after battles, or after a hunt, in which case he slowly tortures the victim to the death, and is seen with a smirk and grin. His posture would be a care-free gait and holding himself with a ' Yeah, right.' posture. Sarcastic, sadistic, and insane, Insanity is the very meaning of the word. He talks with a series of enjoyable purrs, and smirks. Occasionally he can be seen saying a few words, but normally he's silent.
| Panic |:: Panic is... Panic-y. He's the depressed, 'The worlds going to end', type. But, unlike depressed people, he freaks out. A lot, actually. He's like the hug-able, and slightly gullible types, and is frequently seen with some stranger. He's like a toddler in some ways, and a freaked out teenager in others. He comes out whenever there is a big problem, their in danger, or a threat looms. Then he makes them all annoyed, and everyone wants to kill poor Panic. It's not his fault, really, and is only doing this because that's simply what he is. His very mindset is set on this, and only comes out of that shell whenever he's not in control. Normally the others try and contain him, but to no avail. He's the one that Hatred has to come and get out of trouble he dropped himself into, or because he was too gullible. His posture would be highly defensive, and ready-to-run-away, type. He speaks human, yes, but sometimes there is whimpers in the middle of it.
| Animalistic |:: Blake's entire personality revolves around this. Being insane has it's problems, and, quite frankly, this is the worst of them all. Usually, normal vampire could be seen with their kills and all, and you would expect them to be not in the least bit human. But Blake is... almost always like that. He rarely uses English, and when it does, it sounds husky, and always having a background noise of growling. Normally the growls, hisses, purrs, snarls, and a mixture of others are what he uses to communicate his displeasure or pleasure. Sometimes, however, he likes using laughs and teasing the humans. That is even more rare then talking to vampires. In English, at least. Normally he uses German, and even that is slightly never used.
| Claustrophobic |:: Blake it afraid of small, enclosed spaces. Literally. He freaks out, and feels like the room is closing in on him. He would throw up if he could, therefore he tries to make sure that he avoids those places. For fear that he'll freak out on his captor, or Panic will take over, and start whacking people's heads together. So... never put him in an enclosed space. He freaks out even more so then Panic. All of them are like that... even if Hatred doesn't show it.
Likes:
† Talking to himself
† Open areas
† Hats
† The cold
† Humans (Not the way you might think...)
† The dark
† Annoying people
† Switching personalities when people are talking. He can't, however, help it sometimes.
Hates:
† Ego-filled people
† Whining humans
† People like him
† Hypocritical people
† Werewolves (Call's 'em mutts)
† Persistent humans
† Enclosed spaces
† The sunlight
Talents:
† Stealth
† Agility
† Fluent German
† Annoying people into making the first move.
† Surprisingly has a very good memory; despite the insanity.
† Has a tad bit more healing then, oh lets say a massively muscled vampire.
† Finding the dark spots.
† Due to being insane, he's slightly more animalistic then normal vampires.
Habits:
† Talking to himself
† Picking stuff out of his fangs.
† Annoying people. Whether by habit, or on purpose.
† Growling, rather then expressing his frustration.
† Walks with a carefree gait.
† Doesn't really bother to hide that he's a vampire.
† Correcting people.
† Appearance †
Skin Color: A pale-white.
Hair Color: A dark, earthy brown.
Eye Color: Dark brown as well, but almost looking black.
Build: Not lanky, but certainly not a massively muscled guy. He leans more toward agility, speed, and stealth rather then brute force. Therefore the muscles are there, but not exactly looking like it. He doesn't, however, look skinny either. Just a fair mediom...
Piercings/Scars/Tattoos: Since Blake really can't have any scars, and never bothered to get piercings, he has multiple tattoos. Five, in fact, around a foot long each, and four inches wide. Three on one hand, reaching toward his chest, saying Death, Sickness, and Violence. The two others on his left say Healing and Life... but are run over by maroon-colored blood. They are all a dark black, what with the good words covered in those maroon colors.
Choice of Clothing: Blake has a variety of colors, depending on who's in charge in that time of day. Whether It's violent, dark maroon colors, or depressing gray, he's frequently seen with a type of dark, evil colors. They would have reminded you of blood colors, and a dark blackness. Most of the time, however it's a complete black, cargo pants, and a simple T-shirt. He likes expressing agility, and slightly roomy clothing. Unlike those bulky mutts...
Other:
† History †
History:
[/b]" The teacher shouted right next to him, and Blake could have also sworn he jumped several feet, before settling back into the bench, and gathering all his things. He could have sworn he didn't hear her the first, time, but whenever people started to head inside, he kind of got that point into his mind. He had to, for whenever he didn't, he got whooped by his mother. The things he got smacked for, however, was not average. They were, instead, quite weird, actually. Weird might have been an understatement, for whenever he took out the pencils and paper outside, he almost always drew how his Mother would die. Sometimes it was a simple thing of falling off some cliff, and sometimes he was some boyfriend gone wrong. This time, however, it looked like him, with a bloodied knife.
Blake's personality is... dark, to say the least. From now, to before he was a vampire, he never really was what you would have called 'average'. When boys were torturing snails, he, instead, just wanted to sit inside. He was frequently drawing pictures of a person dying. Whenever his teacher called him on it, he just looked at her funny, and went back to the drawing. He rarely talked, and when he did it was to his Mom. So where does this start? Well maybe quite some time ago, when he was around twelve years old. We start at the school he was going to, and the teacher calling everyone in.
---
First a shrill sound was heard, and it slowly formed into the sound of a teacher calling everyone back inside the school-house. Most children hurried to her, or hurried to get their shoes of which some were lucky enough to have. Most of them didn't have any, and were forced to wipe them off on the mat as they were ushered inside. One figure, however, stayed on the bench he was on, with three pencils on the bench, and another in his hand. The eraser was slightly smudged off, and the pencil itself was a snub, but he didn't want to just trash it. It had potential, and the other voices agreed along with him. Who were the voices? Well they were sometimes there to help him with his drawing, and sometimes he let them even draw themselves. For they took over his entire self sometimes, but he didn't know what to say of it, because they wouldn't let him. It was a out-of-body experience whenever they did so, and he slowly learned their personalities by heart. Hatred, Insanity, and Panic were his only friends in the schoolyard, and whenever he got himself called to the teacher, he switched to another.
" Blake! Inside, now! This is the last time I'm calling you!
School passed slowly, and he walked home with everything he brought with him back in that familiar, tattered bag. The time would come when he would someday try and face the problems of a abusive Mother, but until then, he would just try and sneak some food away from that pantry of hers. Whenever he tried, however, it seemed like she would react in a wrath-filled way, and he ended up with bruises the size of his fist. It was normally when Hatred appeared again... he didn't really like having only Hatred to hurt her, but it was better then Insanity doing so. Insanity was the one encouraging him to draw these papers, and to not care whether or not something bad happened; only take it in stride.
Sneaking around to the back of the house, and carefully easing his self into the back window of the house, he heard the floorboards creak, and he froze. All he heard was snoring, and he carefully eased his way into the kitchen, and toward the food. With stomach making a racket of noise, and freezing every time it did so, he carefully grabbed the fresh bread from the shelf, and was just about to turn around when he saw... her. She was in full wrath-form, and he froze for several minutes. Then she started shouting, and slamming broom toward him.
Stuffing the bread into his bag, he bolted off, with his Mother right behind him. He had gotten several flinging of fists, and whacking of the broom, but he had gotten out, and Hatred hadn't. This was good, and he carefully eased himself down by the broom; massaging his beaten shoulder, with Insanity snickering, and imagining those gross things he always did. This time, Blake listened, and watched as well. He watched Insanity conjure up the thoughts of her slowly dying, and with blood spilling on the ground. This made Insanity even more excited, and fast-forwarded to where she was flailing on the floor. And Blake let him, what with him enjoying it as well. Soon, all to soon, Hatred interrupted with a quick hiss, and making Blake jerk his head up. There was his mother once again, but with someone with her, and judging by the looks of her, it seemed like she hadn't had noticed him.
Soon she was in range of hearing, and he heard several things about how 'she couldn't believe he was back', and that ' it's been so hard with Blake. He seems so weird with him talking to himself. And sometimes he doesn't even seem like himself.' Ha! That was a laugh, but only a chuckle escaped his mouth as he scooted further into the dark shadows.
Where to now? The house, or somewhere else? He always wanted to go somewhere else, and he didn't have to have any friends to go with him. He had the voices, and they even made him do some things. He loved that about them, and soon decided that he wouldn't want to have anything to do with his Mom anymore... all that just wasn't worth it. He could even take up begging, it couldn't be too hard, right? Not really... no. He couldn't just give up, and make these silly plans like these. He had to carefully plan it out. And so he would.
---
Four years later...
---
The guy was still with her, and didn't want to leave. The name? Hubert. An ugly name, to be frank, and Insanity laughed at the thought of it. He still kept up drawing, but it was less frequent. When it was, it was gory, bloody, and both Insanity and him laughed at the mere though of drawing it. Same as his Mom, of which he had slowly started antagonizing her, and poking fun. Sometimes he even struck back, which was why he now wasn't really afraid of the house anymore. Ever since he was a small child, he had been scared of this house, and he had frequently dreamed of his Mom dying. But he also had nightmares, and woke up in sweat and panting. He still did, but now he conversed more with Insanity and Hatred. Panic only came on whenever he felt that extremely scared feeling and all...
But no. During the last few months, he had met a strange person on his way home from school. He had just eaten some of the cheese he had stolen from the pantry, and saw someone waving him over. Panic was... well panicking, and Hatred warned him not to. Insanity, of course, encouraged him, and he went with that voice, instead of the others. He had seemed friendly, and offering him some food, of which he responded with a crinkled forehead. The guy then introduced himself rather politely, but was always in the deepest part of the shadows, never to be seen by Blake himself.
And now he had said he would give him more food, if he would only come back. And he did, but always at evening now. And even then, the guy refused to come out of his shadows. Warning signs brought on by Hatred and Panic was ignored, because free food was great, right?
That was what he was telling himself, as he headed toward the spot where he normally met the stranger. The stranger always wore a Black hat, and these gloves. Not bulky gloves, just those working gloves that many people wore. Not very suspicious, but why he didn't ever come out of the shadows was a mystery. He even asked him that once, and a harsh growl was heard. That was all he ever heard in response to his questions, so he just stopped asking him. It gave him a place to go, and a place to eat.
" Hello there,[/color]" A voice was heard, while a slight purr resounded from the voice. The guys very odd habits were met with stares of him, and each day he came there, he drew slightly closer to that person. Not in the little 'your friend', sort of thing, but literally closer. Each day he found himself going slightly farther away from that light, and toward that mysterious stranger again.
Finally, apparently Hatred had had enough of Blake putting himself in danger, and forcibly took over, and bolted off into the light.
He never got that far.
Soon hands were grabbing his legs, tackling him to the ground. The force that hit his legs was surprisingly, and growls crept out of the stranger’s voice. Apparently he had ignored the warning signs; him staying in the shadows, gloves, and never getting close enough for Blake to see his mouth. And now it was over. He was going to die.
What happened was even more surprising, for this burning, agonizing, want-to-die kind of pain started, and he flailed uselessly against the vampire, who just held him that much tighter, and that much more pain started up. Flaring from his wrist, all the way out toward the limbs, he could have sworn he died just then. He had died, and now was in a personal hell.
Now he no longer felt anything holding him, and yet he still couldn't move anything. He couldn't even open his eyes to see that the vampire was walking away with a satisfied look on his face. He had successfully lured a human toward him, and now was reaping the benefits of him. He didn't, of course, know that Blake was one of the few that turned into what he was.
So now Panic was switching with Insanity, Hatred, and Blake at rapid speed; sometimes laughing was heard, sometimes shrieking, and sometimes snarls of hatred.
This lasted for some time.
And then it disappeared abruptly.
He had had no idea what had happened, and panted while pulling himself up to a standing position. He still felt his other personalities, only they to, had no idea what had happened, other then what they had just expensed: Pain, and a lot of it. Of course now, they all agreed that they were all quite... hungry to say the least. Not really hungry per se, but more of an thirsty.
Overwhelming, actually.
[/blockquote][/center]
Mother/Father: Father disappeared when he was younger, and mother was a Alex Evans.
Siblings: None
Offspring: N/A
Other:
† RP example †
[/center]
Drip... drip... drip...
That annoying-as-hell sound was all that was heard, and the figure in the corner slightly twitched whenever he heard any motion of it. Gosh... that sound must die. It was almost as annoying as the sound of fingernails against the chalkboard, only he hadn't put up with that very long. They died a long and horrible death, because they thought annoying virus's was funny. And seeing them twitch with annoyance wasn't a warning; it was they wanting to eat you alive. And he had wanted to; oh so wanted to. Eying that person with such hunger that he could have sworn he would explode if he didn't have one chomp out of that person right now. And then watch them every few minutes cough up mucus from the insides of their lungs...
Priceless
Having that person moan with the horror of having himself in them, and wish he had never done anything like that. Well, that in itself was a reward, not to mention the stuff he found off of him, as he had pawed through his remains. Yeah. f**k you, and your twisted lungs. You were going to die from the Carna, anyway. He wasn't making that much of a difference, except that dying from him was oh-so-much worse. But, I guess, in some cases, it was better then some of the Carna. Because some of the Carna could stretch the torture out for months on end, and you would have been willing to take coughing up mucus- At least he was, if he were one of them. If he were human.
Smiling at the memories, before twitching once more at the blood dripping on the floor of some dead body. It had been doing that for hours now, and quite frankly, it needed to stop. Even the Fox-snake tail hissed with annoyance. Crap. It needed to stop, but no matter how much he pleaded, it still did another one of those drips, and drove him toward the extreme of tossing the body out the window. Because they were around the fifth floor up, with flickering lights, and surely he would splatter on the ground outside. Then he would be rid of that annoying sound, and he would no longer be punished by some unknown fate to some eternal annoyance.
With that second drip, he snatched the body, and proceeded to stuff it out the window, and watching it fall. Watching it splatter on the sidewalk outside, while he smirked, and settled into waiting. Waiting for what, he didn't know yet. All he knew was that there had to be someone that heard that (or they were all deaf, which would be a pretty good possibility,) and would come investigating. Otherwise he would move to a different place in an hour, because this was getting quite annoying in his point of view. Because he had an attention span that was little more then a millimeter, and then that stretched the patient span, which was even less then that.
A squirrel would have a better attention span then him, no offense to anyone with those little animals for their shifting abilities. But who considered shifting into a squirrel ability? So-called 'Abilities' landed them here in the first place; did they want to be laughed at as well? Obviously they did, and he would help with that later. Right now he had a job to do, which included waiting. But the upside was that there was no more annoying dripping sounds, which was quite a relief to him, and his already annoyed self.
Flexing his claws, as he trotted up the stairs, he was thinking about confusing the poor people that heard that, to come up here. Try and follow him, and see exactly where it gets you. Maybe to the dead lights that seemed quite eerie at night, and annoying in the daytime? Or maybe the dried blood that stained the hospital walls every-which-way, which made it look like a nightmare had gone loose? Or the Keeper's got bored, and decided to massacre some poor innocents. He only wished that he had been there to help... he would have loved the fact that he could bring some kind of havoc. Right now he had to just sit here until some poor, poor soul came searching for help, and got a bite... and a disease. Part of himself... which got kind of weird if you thought about it.
Stopping at the exit sign, which would have been lit up if there had been any electricity he pondered if he should he go on. Should he travel up, up, up those stairs until he got to the point where there was no more climbing? Or wait here? The options made his forehead wrinkle in indecision, while considering the ups and downs to each of these things. Continuing up would give him a more open view of the people that would come up here, and stopping here would allow the poor people to catch up. However the higher he got, the more likely they weren't going to come, because who would honestly travel up those stairs, injured as they were, to get to some part of the hospital that wasn't bloodied?
No non-idiot would do that. They would be fools for even thinking about it, let alone advancing to the 'doing' stage. The doing stage was worse then the thinking stage, which was just thinking about where to go. When these people got injured, they would somewhat revert back to some kind of animal instincts. Some sort of survival thing kicked in, and they either went on offensive, or ran away; kicking up clouds of dust as they went along their merry way.
The thought sent him into that evil kind of smirk again, as he settled into one of the shadows, and closing his eyes: allowing the fox-snake to take over for watching for him. It would be able to push him awake if it had to, because it was him. And he was it, which annoyed him to no end sometimes. Of course, he was at least better off then a kitty anthro. People thought that they could tug on the tail, but with a snake for a tail, he doubted they would do that. If anything, they would run away. Or just avoid pissing him off like most people loved to do. What? What is your problem? Do you like to be killed by viruses?
Obviously so.
((Mind you this is a different Blake. From the menagerie.))
† Let's talk about you †
Name: Soul, luffs.
Other Characters: N/A
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