Post by Dean on Jun 21, 2010 0:37:18 GMT -5
Name: Dean Archer
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Orientation: Straight
Guild: ------------
Shapeshift Form: hawk
Appearance:
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Orientation: Straight
Guild: ------------
Shapeshift Form: hawk
Appearance:
6 foot 2, gangly, but with strong features. Caucasian, but tanned to a dirt color from his time on the move. Dean has dark blue eyes. His hair is a messy mop of rust colored shag that’s just as much red as it is brown. His hands- like the rest of him- are scared and calloused. Dean wears a leather bracelet around his arm constantly to hide the Shifters Mark on the underside of his right wrist.Personality:
Dean's hawk from is a your standard Red Tailed Hawk. Bronze tail feathers as well as bronze flecks in his belly down. His coloring his dark bronze and brown, with white belly down. His beak isn't as wicked and curved as many hawks his size, Dean's is more subtle. Which is ironic considering who were talking about. His eyes are pretty proportional, most Red Tails sport huge eyes, but that doesn't hamper the amazing Hawk eyesight.
Very smart, for his age. Witty and quick, his mouth tends to get him into just as much trouble as the rest of him. Dean is a self-made loner, cutting himself off from most people by plain instinct. It takes a lot for him to trust someone, but when he does, he’s the most loyal, stubborn person you can have on your side. Loyal to a T, and extremely chivalrous. he tends to get in over his head when a girl gets in trouble.History:
"As a rule, I try not to get involved with things that don’t directly concern me. To put it simply, I’m an observer. Someone that watches in the scenery unless I believe that I can help. Needless to say, I don’t have that many friends. I’m okay with that. I’ve become pretty accustomed to the idea of one shadow accompanying me through life. I’m not a good guy, so my own sins are more than enough to deal with."
"So, I stay out of things, seeing things as they are, stepping in only when it becomes absolutely necessary. It sounds cold, I know, but it’s usually better for all parties involved that I refrain from putting my hand in things as much as possible."
Likes:
:. Apples
:. Cats
:. His Baby- His iPod
:. Books
:. Fire
Dislikes:
:. Rich- Snobby people/nonpeople
:. The Government
:. Being lied to
:. Crowded situations (ie, partys, busy cities)
:. When he ignores his own advice
Growing up, Dean was always the quiet one. He loved to read, and to research things. His first movie was Indiana Jones, and it wore off a bit on him. As he grew older though, that quiet nature turned into a dignified loner. Shifting didn't help, it made him distance himself from others much quicker. His parents had no idea of Dean's shifting ability, considering they were not able, which made since. Dean was adopted from a young age, and he doesn't remember his parents. Even with his researching expertise, he could never find anything on them.Sample:
Nowdays, Dean just does what he can to ge by. He shifts sometimes in quiet places, but has been known to help others. Never using his ability, of course, but the world is in fact a dangerous place...
(not IC Per Say, but I love the way this illistrates how Dean thinks)Other:
I broke back into the school after the EMT’s took away the body. I needed to get away from the bulls and the press before they were able to get their greasy hands on me. The last thing I needed was to be detained for hours being asked the same set of questions over and over.
At least that’s what I told myself that was what the reason was.
I got to one of the soggy bathrooms just in time to puke into a stall. I guess my adrenaline had finally run out, and all that smoke that I had inhaled probably didn’t help me much. I stood up a couple minuets after that, wiping my mouth on my hand. On shaky legs I walked over to the sink, leaning over the old porcelain. With a splash of cold tap water and a couple of pounds of paper towels I managed to get turn my face back into something resembling one.
I took a breath and glanced up at the mirror, but not into it. I didn’t want to look at my reflection, a useless feeling overwhelming me. I had been through a lot in my tenure at Tanic High School, more than the majority of teenagers I had met. Robberies, Violence, Drugs, you name it and I had probably confronted it. But nothing like this. This was just…Different. No one had ever died because of my failure to act.
I was just so damned tired.
I stood like that for a while, wondering what I was going to do next. I was just one guy. What did it matter if I kept pursuing this? Why should I have to always be the one to put me and mine in harms way to figure out what’s going on? Why was it my responsibility?
I looked at my half melted converse. Because, I told myself, It's the right thing to do.
I smiled at my shoes. "Put those words on my grave. There probaly going to kill me some day."
I pushed that useless feeling away me. A rock formed at the base of my spine, and it mirrored in my features.
I wasn’t going to stop until I found out why that poor soul had died.
I looked up into my eyes, and the same thick eyes that had gotten me into so much trouble gazed back into mine. One more time, I told myself, one more time.
I left the tiled room and the self pity behind me, renewed vigor pulsing though my steps. I needed to get somewhere to figure out my next move. I need to get information.
I needed to go to church.
Caught word from Elen Galad