Post by kale on Jun 18, 2009 20:55:43 GMT -7
†Kale-Kale-Range†
†Ranger†
[/center]†General Information†
Full Name: Range, Kale Dominic
Nicknames: Ranger, Kal
Gender: Male
Age: 35
Age they appear: 21
Race: Vampire
Orientation: Heterosexual
Health Problems: Mild allergy to the sun – there are more severe cases than his, but his is enough to keep him from wandering out at high noon. While there is no definitive mental condition that Kale suffers from, a life dependent on the blood and death of others does erode one’s sanity as time drags on. You might consider him psychotic, as his personality is quite erotic and he has abnormal reactions to normal things. If he decided the sky was the wrong shade of blue, he could throw an hour-long fit over it. He also gets ridiculously motion-sick very easily – just walking wrong can get him dizzy.
†Personality†
Basic Personality: Kale appears complex, an unlimited ocean of unpredictability, but, should you study the constellations of his characteristics, you slowly develop an understanding of the reasoning behind his actions and words. There are a few layers to Kale, and, were they to be peeled away, you’d discover he is a simple being merely twisted by his parent’s will.
First layer
On the surface, one might take note of his confidence, though his defined modesty prevents said confidence from rubbing others as arrogance. From the walk one might call a ‘strut’ to the soothing, self-assured words he utters, Kale is considered calm and collected. What would crumble the foundation of those around him would hardly hinder Kale’s constant ability to keep his cool and figure out a solution. He seeks the spotlight, but does so subtly, so that most do not realize his social advance. He’s social, fun-loving, and laidback, with enough wit, confidence, and appeal to title him ‘charming’.
Second layer
Kale is terminally protective of what he decides is his. While some might enjoy chalking this up to “heroism”, it has more to do with his territorialism and inability to accept losing something he’s earned. Kale appears unflinchingly brave, even to the point of recklessness, like he could slap a killer without hesitance. But, to be truthful, this façade is just another act; a veil masking the true fear that surrounds him. His life is not bathed with fright, but it is doused enough to force him to construct some sort of counteraction, and this becomes rebellion.
Third layer
Now we’re nearing the hot core of his true being. Kale is naturally independent. He has evolved a hard defiance for all authority, particularly to those he deems unworthy of their superiority. He has become unruly, untamable, and, indeed, disobedient. Sure, this could be accounted for his ‘boldness’ that so many of his friends adore, but most authority see it as blatant mutiny.
Fourth layer
While this is a heavily-shrouded layer, it is a governing section of his disposition. Kale is flighty. You could call it ‘afraid of commitment’, but it’s not so much commitment that he runs from, but more so feelings in general. Kale will find a girl he likes, no matter her social standing. She might be the ‘all-around’ sleaze, the ‘nerd’ in the corner, the ‘girl-next-door’, even the ‘queen bee’. Whatever her identity, he takes on the role of a very serious admirer once he picks out his object of desire. He all but stalks her, and it is rare for her to wait long to like him back. However, the minute she starts responding to him, he locks down and runs away. Fickle and hypocritical, yes, but the sad reality either way.
Fifth layer
Ah, the last, and surely the most central of them all. The hub of his persona. The above layers are so interwoven with steel that one would expect his core to be strong and raging with electricity. This would be but an illusion. Deep inside, his self-esteem is a cracked, flimsy sheet covering a world of self-loathing and doubt. Even if his every choice seems to be the right one, he is constantly looking back, second-guessing himself, and fuming over his smallest mistakes. If he trips up, he’ll punish himself for weeks, but, should someone else blow a hole through his entire life, he merely forgives and forgets. That’s one way to put it; he is perfect to everyone else, but, toward himself, he is a junkyard of mass deficiency.
But no worries, dollface. You won't see any of his inner layers. No one ever will, for he hoards them away like he'd shatter if they were known.
You'll never see anything beyond that secure, sweet droll of his.
For why would you want to see anything more? Kale shows what the world wants, and they want perfection.
Likes:
† French
† The cold
† Enclosed spaces
† Storms
† Anything sharp
† Toxic scents
† White, black, and red
† Fame
† Cats
† Alcohol
† Weapons
† Cigarettes
† Revenge
Hates:
† Wool
† The smell of tuna, lavender, and stale perfume
† Purple
† Clinginess
† Too much makeup
† Common phrases
† Monkeys
† Sun
† Heat
† Crowds
Talents:
† Acting
† Charm
† Can keep his alcohol down
† Naturally musical
† Wicked chef
Habits:
† Has to pace when on the phone
† Has a hair fetish
† Clenches jaw when stressed
† Looks at a girl’s eyes first, then her lips
† Always sleeps on his right side
†Appearance:†
Skin Color: White
Hair Color: Dark brown
Eye Color: Blue
Build: Fit
Piercing/Scars/Tattoos: Has the words “Eternity” written across the back of his neck and wings on his ankles.
Choice of Clothing: He prefers dark attire, usually black.
Other:
†History:†
History: Raised by a poverty-stricken mother who was abandoned by his vampire father, Kale struggled most of his life with the usual adolescent gangs and prejudice. During his beginning years, his mother, Larissa, looked at him with affection, ignoring how slowly he aged and the fangs that hid behind his thin lips. She touched him tenderly, not caring when he grabbed her wrist a little too roughly and left black fingerprints against her pale flesh. She nurtured him as he grew, providing the blood by taking a job as a nurse and stealing bags of blood. Once he turned fifteen, though he looked much younger, his mother remarried to Frank Range. Although she explained Kale’s “condition”, as she called it, Frank did not necessarily accept it. As time wore on, he showed more and more hostility toward Kale, and it slowly seeped into his marriage with Kale’s mother. She no longer looked at Kale with those gentle eyes, or stroked his face with her delicate fingers. Her eyes hardened at him, as if he were a physical manifestation of all that was wrong in her life. When he turned twenty-two, he attacked their neighbor for his blood, longing to feel the pulse beneath his lips that would push the sweet liquid into his mouth. He was banished from his household, where he hasn’t looked back since. Despite the harsh outcome, he still remembers his departure fondly, for, as he looked over his shoulder, running down the street, he saw something that keeps him going. A glimmer of love in his mother’s eyes, sad and regretful, as if wishing he would come back to her.
Mother/Father: Larissa Henderson, Frank Range [stepfather], unknown biological father
Siblings: None
Offspring: None
Other:
†RP example:†
The cold, unassuming marble carved roughly into the paved steps of the Parthenon felt unwelcoming beneath his thin sandals. It was unshifting - naught but a dreary pathway, birthed by nature yet manipulated and scarred by human hands, cutting across the face of delicate Mother Earth. He knelt to the slate, bronzed hand tracing the surprisingly chilled surface that was disrupted by aged cracks and chafed by the numerous feet wandering across it. He could still feel the tang in the atmosphere around him that spoke of previous souls coming here in search for relief from their torture, whatever that might be. One, he detected, sought out the answer to an anguishing question - a man choosing between two women equally loved.
The wisdom of Athena was a longed-for balm to the wounds of this world.
He exhaled into the colder air, yet it did not cause discomfort to him. He was untouchable inside the mortal body he had taken the shape of. Such a form was pleasing to him; he approved of the dark, caramel-glazed locks that framed his strong, golden-brushed face dominated by brooding, black eyes and a pale, yet warm, mouth. He liked the feel of strength with each step, the surge of power behind the movements brought forth by able-bodied limbs and a respectable height.
The one thing he did not favor in this charade of mortal masks was the alias he had to tie on. While flicking identities on and off had its rewarding amusement, it was agitating to forget ones name in the midst of a conversation, or react too late when someone called his alias.
He shifted through his endless memories, trying to remember the last time he had adorned this form, and what name had accompanied it then.
Elias, right? A name that was quite suitable, he thought, for his body. Simple and short, yet with a very definite musical ring that caused you to murmur it in a relishing voice. He did his now, enjoying the velvet tune his voice caused his name to become.
He straightened up, taking another step closer to the vast temple that was dedicated to his Aunt. What his feelings were toward her were muddled; time that could not be counted caused many different emotions to come into play. There were past betrayals, but times when he loved her. In all, it was a normal family - dysfunctional, corrupted, and contradicting. But, in the end, he supposed he still loved Athena, even if she could be haughty and annoyingly informed of even the most insignificant of trifles...
He passed the two imposing silhouettes of the pillars that stood beside the entrance, knowing how the shadows would play across his shoulders when he was beneath their glare yet too intent on his thoughts to pay attention.
Where was Artemis? Her absence caused an aching emptiness in his gut. She was frequently off on hunts, of course, with those silly virgins that looked at him like he was a plague - which, to put it bluntly, he was not accustomed to when it came to women - but he was yet to be without her and feel content. He glanced over his shoulder as if concerned about what was behind him, yet his eyes did not focus on what he saw. It was all a blurry scene of yet another day. Nothing to surprise him. If a man jumped out with five heads, each of them purple, and did the chicken dance, Apollo would hardly where's the mayo? a brow. He rested a hand against the velvet-draped wall, taking little notice of the highly-ornate shrine which he had entranced upon, and let his weight sag against the structure. He did not know exhaustion; every weary blink was a facade, every yawn was an exaggeration of human habits, each weighed step was one of careful consideration. And yet, at the moment, he felt completely and inexcusably worn out. For the first time in what seemed, perhaps, forever, he was... tired? No, that word was inappropriate - he did not need sleep. What he needed, really... was something to disrupt the normal.
Maybe thus was the reason he had come to the random temple at all. Athena's vague presence was not needed to give him mystic advice; he could go directly to her, should that be his need! Nay... maybe he came to the location merely in hopes that something would turn up, whether in mind or physical realm, to stir up just a touch of mischief.
Should such a dry streak continue, he'd have to search out a deranged Sphynx and pick a fight with the deadly feline just to get his desired kicks!
If only Artemis would return, her witty teasing would brighten up his gloom-stained day. Or was it year? The passing of the sun and moon had simply become yet another round of Helios and Selena - they marked, not days, but minutes. Had it been a year since his sister had come to him? Ten of them? When had he even taken a breath last? In a sudden panic that he had neglected to breathe, he inhaled with the sound of a ragged gasp, and then blushed slightly.
Well, perhaps there was one thing left in the world that could surprise him.
He, Apollo, God of Light and Music, had felt the burn in his cheeks and neck marking a human reaction - one he had not felt since the time that his memory became blurry with age... Oh, how he missed those days.
†Let's talk about you:†
Name: Brady
Other Characters: My first
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