Post by loremipsum on Sept 11, 2010 9:50:46 GMT -5
Name: Kaesus Winn
Age: Seventeen
Gender: Male
Orientation: Pansexual
Guild: Thieves
Shapeshift Form: hummingbird
Appearance:
Age: Seventeen
Gender: Male
Orientation: Pansexual
Guild: Thieves
Shapeshift Form: hummingbird
Appearance:
Human:Messy orange hair that refuses to lie flat on his skull, Kaesus usually just lets his hair be. There isn't any point of trying to style it when it'll just mess up within five minutes. No hair products are used in his hair besides the Axe shampoo and conditioner he uses. He indeed has bangs that touch just above his timid green eyes, speckled with light amber shadings near the iris, with medium-thick eyebrows that arch high when he is puzzled. Being overweight, his face is well-rounded unlike the typical teenage faces which are starting to thin and form more prominent bone features. His face is nearly child-like if you took the effort to inspect it a bit closer, with his rounded figure and soft features that are actually quite easy to look at.Personality:
His forehead, upper cheeks, and bridge of his nose are dotted with pimples and black heads that he tries to get rid of, using every cream he knows of, yet they seem to be a permanent feature for him. Moving on down to his shoulder, chest, and stomach area, the first thing noticeable is his prominent gut; a beer gut, some kids taunt him by saying. Truth be, this guy whom stands at average height for his age (about five feet, eight inches) does get outside. His skin isn't pale, his many hours in the sun at least helping him from turning into a vampire as he puts it, but he doesn't look like those tall surfers he saw during his stay in California. Actually, if he were to loose his weight entirely, you'd be able to notice his muscles from hours of riding a trail bike through the expert trails. Yet the fear of being separated from his mother when he was younger and the constant teasing as he got older kept him from showing his full potential as an 'ideally good looking guy' in their own way. His legs are a bit skinny compared to his body, this bird-like feature being dominant and pronounced especially when he wears shorts and/or hangs upside down.
Typical attire for Kaesus is a plain colored T-Shirt, preferably Fruit of the Loom or Hanes, no V-Necks, a pair of baggy jeans to make his legs appear larger, a black or white hoodie ranging from the brands of DC to Zoo York, and a pair of torn DC sneakers. Formal dress is uncomfortable for him and makes his self-image appear even worse than he is already seeing it. In the winter months, he'll wear a pair of gloves from any brand, whilst in the summer he'll sometimes wear open-fingered gloves like the ones you see pro bike riders wear. No matter what the circumstances, he continues to wear the bangles his eccentric mother and father gave him.
Besides his fiery orange hair, they are the brightest part of his appearance, standing out with vibrant neon colors such as green, yellow, pink, etc. With five bangles on each hand, his left hand goes in this order: purple, green, orange, pink, and yellow. His right hand goes: red, elephant gray, aluminum foil silver, a cheerful brown color and the last one, his pride, one with all the colors on them in no particular order. In the fall, his mother requests that he wear an amber necklace in honor of her mother, who gave her life for her children bu giving them her undying loyalty until the end. He obeys so, proudly showing his friends the white-beaded necklace with the small, thick drop of amber hanging from a slight silver hook. His shifter tattoo is a dull purple and can be located on the bottom of his foot, close to the heel area. Considering the fact he almost always keeps his socks on, nobody has seen his shifter tattoo besides himself, his mother and his father.
He stands at about five feet, nine inches.
He weighs about one hundred eighty three pounds.
Shifted: from the base of his bill to his nape, Kaesus's head is entirely an shade of dark emerald green with a fiery red-orange throat. With a gorget-like marking going in a circular pattern around his neck that is iridescently colored, he could be considered colorful. His upper-parts are a bluish color, white sometimes speckling his chest. The rest of his body is either a light grey or white. His wings are speckled with different colors in a shape similar to that of a small jewel. His slender bill is black and if you were to open it, you could his long tube-like tongue that is well adapted to the lifestyle of sucking nectar from flowers. He, like all bee hummingbirds, has the ability to hover in one place much like a helicopter.
Shifted, he stands at about six centimeters, about average size.
Shifted, he weighs about two grams, overweight for a Bee Hummingbird.
Quite and shy to everybody but Imogene and his sibling, he tends to keep to himself. Many think he can not speak at all, which isn't true; he has simply learned that keeping quite can save you a lot a trouble. He talks only when its required and even then he doesn't like too. The overweight teen lives in fear of being bullied; its been kept at bay so far because of his sibling, whom is one hell of an frightening girl. Speaking of females, or relationships in general, he does not manage well with them. Being pansexual, he'll date anybody he feels attracted to regardless of their gender. He has indeed dated a transexual male before for about a year. Kaesus is generally a respectful young man who always uses his yes ma'ams, sirs, pleases, and thank yous. He gets along well with older people and the young, young children more than anybody his own age. He doesn't usually argue and when he does, you must have really gotten on his nerves for he generally gets along with everybody .History:
"You were born on October 25, at 12:04 in the morning, son. Your father was a nervous wreck: he'd already forgotten the overnight bag as they were walking out and had to return and get it after my refusal to go any further until he retrieved the bag. Now son, I admit, we didn't know what to call you at that time. Chester seemed ideal at that time but by the time you were actually born, we'd decided on something different. We named you Kaesus for no particular reason besides the fact my mother had a dog named Kaesus she had loved dearly. And I loved you dearly already. At first your father was all 'Name him after a dog? Aw, come on sweetie!' But eventually he gave in. And that's the story of your birth! Short and sweet."Sample:
-- His birth, told by his mother Rachel Baker
"Your mother, father and brother were killed, you little fuck. It happened when you were twelve, you dumbass. Its been so many years. Get the fuck over it, okay? Yeah, yeah, you loved them to pieces and miss them dearly: I couldn't care less. They are dead, head on collision with a nice big truck. Their immediate response as they hit the truck was 'Hahahaha, fuccker!' since they were trying to commit suicide to be away from you."
-- Partially true story told by some kid at the orphanage he went too for a short period of time. The lie was the fact that his parents hadn't commited suicide; they were simply adverting a deer whom had darted across the road. Hugo, the thought of him killing something accidently or purposely, frightened him so he had weaved to the other side, furthermore avoiding the deer but ultimately killing his own family unintentionally, his intentions generally being good. Avoid the deer and save it another few weeks before deer hunting season came around.
"I adopted him when he was... Oh, twelve going on thirteen. I'd been told he was quite, obeyed, and was respectful; excellent with older people as well. This indeed suited me, being the old and frail lady I am. I had already adopted a girl and she was a bit crazy yet I loved her nonetheless, even if I did need a bit of sanity in my household. The two hated one another at first, constantly lashing out at one another. My little girl had even threatened to burn his room down! I rarely intervened. They needed to sort out their own problems before I did so, if you can understand that.
Eventually they adjusted to the change. She noticed he wasn't stealing any more attention than he should and he noticed she was actually pretty cool. All comments about his weight and her pyromania were forgotten and the two became the best of friends, always standing out for one another. By the time the kids had reached high school age, you couldn't tell that they had ever had sibling problems, making the best duo one can find these days.
Their respect and trust for the other heightened as I moved them over to a much better school, located somewhere in Shelpey, a nearby city. They did better at this school, living up to their full potential. We've been living here since, our own little happy family despite my age of fifty two. I take care of the and in their own way, they take care of me. Thank God I adopted Kaesus; hes been keeping my little girl out of trouble..."
-- Told by Imogene, his adoptive mother.
"I've known about my shape shifting since I was twelve. The first time I shifted was when I jumped off the roof of my house, willing myself to fly. I wasn't trying to commit suicide. True, I was still upset about my parents, but life was pretty good. If I recall correctly, it had something to do with a dare given to me by my sister. 'I dare you to jump off the roof and attempt a canon ball into the pool.' I guess because I wasn't wanting to feel the impact of water smacking me I had strong thoughts of flying. It was weird, admittably, but hell! It worked. I can now fly. Nobody knows of my shifting past Imogene, my sister, and myself. Not even my birth parents and brother know of it since their, well, dead.
The two discovered my shape shifting ability almost immediatly. Imogene was a shifter herself, a German Shepherd, a secret she hid from us until she realized we were shifters as well. My sister was surprised; her brother could do it to! The reason they discovered it was, well, because I made the stupid mistake of flying towards them and shifting back into my human form, entirely a mistake that I should have stopped. It had always been in my instincts to keep this ability hidden, even from the ones I love. Anyways, we're a merry band of mutants. All shape shifters... God help me."
-- Told by Kaesus, his first shifting experience.
"Oh, come on now. Get back up. A punch like that shouldn't even phase you!"Other:
The cries of men cheering filled the musty air and ricocheted off the grimy walls. Each man had their own reason to be cheering: some had winning Slaves while others had loosing Slaves. It was simple, really. The ones who were, at the moment, winning cheer whilst the Masters with loosing Slaves must endure taunting and retort with snarky use of profanity.
A sharp yelp of pain came from the center of the room causing the crowd to be enveloped with a steady shade of silence. Was it over already? The oval fence they used shuddered and twitched as if alive, scraping against the floor with the metal-rubbing-teeth sound. Chains rattled loudly just as thirty or so men cheered with triumph, one fist raised while the other hand was held out with an open palm, just waiting for the illegally obtained money to be in their possession.
People left in groups, griping amongst themselves, gossiping like high school girls about how unfair the entire event was. With the majority of the crowd gone, one could see what the insane fuss and snide jeers had been about just inside the sketchy ring.
A hunched shape, disfigured and extremely emaciated, was in the corner, licking its slender fingers of some sticky maroon substance. Another shape, less mutated than the first but just as starved looking, laid face down in a pool of blood – presumably it's own. Its body was splayed out and covered in scratches, scars, and fresh wounds that were shaped like strange animal bites.
Cold and half-raw chicken strips were passed between the chains. The mutant greedily snatched them from the stick that held them, swallowed them all in one swift move, and reached out with his thin hands for more. Grinning, the person – was it even human? – begged for more with shrill shrieks and gestures, going as far to bite his own finger and draw blood to show what he wanted.
"No way, Dodd." The man speaking, Jethro Baker, let loose a fake smiled and cocked his head sideways. He nibbled on his own fresh chicken, fully cooked, teasingly. Just as somebody would with an animal. And using the name Dodd surely would get the freak riled up; no Slave enjoyed their true last name being mentioned because of the pursuing memories the names bought along.
Just as it planned, the mutant, more specifically Dodd, flushed with anger. The red did not go well with the pale gray complexion of his skin... Not that he cared, of course. He didn't care about anything but fighting, learning new moves to fight with, and how to earn his next meal from his Master. Animal-like thoughts constantly flickered through his unusual brain, blocking out the small slice of him that still retained its old sane, human self.
Dodd straightened out on his back legs, a bone protruding as the hock of a dog would, and leaned towards his Master, imitating the smug grin. Since his entire arm was small enough to fit through the chain links, he used this to his advantage, stretching himself out, flexing his arms in short movements. His black eyes glazed over with a sick joy as his fingers slowly crawled down the arms of his Master, just as a spider would after falling from the water spout.
"Itsy... Bitsy... Spider... Went up the... Water... Spout." Each word came out labored and just barely intelligible to the average human. His voice had a much more diamond in the rough edge to it than the others who had surrounded him less than ten minutes ago had.
"Aye! Quit touching me, you freak!" Jumping up, Jethro scooted his chair back awkwardly and nearly missed trying to keep an eye on the deformed creature he considered his guarantee to victory, his sweet glimpse of success in the tough world of the Underground. He pushed his short dirty blond hair back with the palm of his hand, sweat steadily dripping down his face. His shirt was already glued to the back of his broad back and shoulders from the nerve-racking thoughts that haunted him after each fight he put his best Slave into.
His thoughts weren't of compassion or sympathy despite what one might think. He was much to worried about covering his own mistakes up with the money he received with each winning, with supporting his wife and two daughters. His family didn't know of the tough business he attended to every other week as he always sends them off to the movies or some other fun place when he left. If they knew, they'd pack up their bags and leave him forever.
Condemned. The word was always said with excitement and a giddy laugh after wards. Maybe because it seemed like a game to the majority of the above world. Maybe because it was such an absurd sport, fighting two living, breathing humans against one another. Each on forced to do so, never having the choice of saying no and walking away to a home where a family that loved him. Jethro always admitted to himself, mentally, that the 'sport' was wrong and that he would quit it right after he made his share. But it soon became his drug, his release from the stress of the working atmosphere. He joined the crowd of men from the Undergrounds each week to attend the show and sometimes fight his own Slave.
So, the posting sample I took from my little chapter thing some of you may or may not have read. That isn't all of it, mind you. Sulfur/Lorem Ipsum out!