Post by Stray on Sept 21, 2009 12:58:10 GMT -5
Name: Hadrian Shinya Sable
Age: Seventeen
Gender: Male
Hometown: New York
Nationality: Japanese-American
Languages Spoken: English, French, Japanese
Description: Sable, the 5’7” slender and effeminate ice prince. As girly as he looks he is sinewy and can pack quite some force behind a punch, or in his case a round-house kick. Being Japanese-American he is somewhat a visual anomaly. Blue eyes and an otherwise completely colorless complexion. One would expect a person with his features to revel in front of a camera or crowd and yet Sable is more likely to politely, but firmly deny the request of pictures and live performances outside of school. But it is with the minimal bothering that the male grudgingly agrees to be ‘dolled’ up for magazine articles and what not.
He often likes changing the color of his hair, as well as preferring dark and rebel-styled clothing. Of course that was before the invasion, now he wears whatever is more appropriate and durable. Admittedly he likes to keep his style slightly-rebel. He is fond of dark and black colors.
Skills: Sable’s trained in martial arts, dance and cooking. Some skills he picked up while on the streets are things like stealth and the habit of being unnaturally quiet.
Personality: Sable isn’t a very amiable person, he knows that he has to participate in a team to survive and accomplish things. Cool and calculating his expressions seem to range from blank to mildly annoyed. He also isn’t much of a talker but with silence comes the role of a defender. He could be a leader if he took more notice of other people’s feelings; he’s just been taking care and traveling by himself too long to think any other way. With the emotional abilities of a glacier and the mindset of a vengeful teen he is hardly the dating type. He finds romance pointless and a waste of time. How is falling in love going to help gain victor and revenge? with time he could be proven wrong.
It goes without saying that Sable is a defensive and constantly on guard person. His logic is always be ready for anything. Emotionally he has been hurt in the past. He swears to never be that weak ever again. Living on the streets for some time has also enforced his logic and given him a stronger sense of instinct. He goes by his last name as a way of staying distant from others, he believes that the last thing he needs is to get attached to people, it would hinder his focus.
Bio/History: Sable was born in Tokushima-Japan seventeen years ago, at the age of two moving to America where he calls New York home. As a child he was bright and happy, friendly and polite. He wasn’t anything out of the ordinary and part of an outwardly appearing happy family with his mother, stepfather and step siblings. He was even learning the violin and bordering a natural talent of it.
Behind the happy faces however was something less pleasant. Sable’s mother was getting sicker every month and required large amounts of undisturbed rest. It went to say that Sable who had always been closer to his mother than the rest of the family panicked slightly and vigorously practiced his music until his fingers bled. Without his mother to protect him from the sharp barbs of insults and hatred the rest of the family seemed to silently direct at him the only hopes of escape was his music, art and schooling.
It wasn’t any surprise when his mother only got worse instead of better as time went on, which proved worse for Sable as he grew up without any affection or guidance. When she passed away the boundaries of his aristocratic step family's cautious insults was lifted, overwhelming the boy with the obvious role of the black sheep.
It was about that time he was granted a scholarship to study music overseas in a prestigious academy of music in Paris. All to willingly he accepted it and excelled in his studies, none too empathetic of his only families hardships and internal affairs. Now it is his final year of scholarship at the academy in Paris and he sets his sights on a school closer to home, Julliard. Though before the school year ends the invasion occurs, overwhelming the boy.
It would be soon afterward the truth became known to the boy about his mother's death. In short it was the cause of an experimental virus that the controllers were testing.
Starting Morphs:
Land: Doberman Pinscher
Bug: Cricket
Other: Pigeon
Scene with Parent:
It was that year anniversary. Hadrian’s cold sapphire gaze stared into the nothingness of the stormy night. His forehead was pressed against the cool window, seeking reprieve against the still tearing agony his grief was threatening to destroy him with. He brought a hand up to press his slender fingers against the glass, wanting desperately to feel like it. Cold and hard, unrelenting and invisible.
The lightning flashed against the dark rolling clouds, as if a vicious snake. His room was illuminated, the white-washed walls reflecting the boy’s attachment to the room of his childhood. On the hardwood desk beside him lay an open letter, the crest of a foreign academy visible at the bottom of the page. An acceptance letter, an eager invitation to leave this strained and faux-happy play of a family.
The rain pounded heavily against the window, like some animal intent on blood and violence. Hadrian closed his eyes, a quiet fury rising in him as his fingers clawed against the glass and fell to his side. He turned to the figure at the open door, his eyes cold and expressionless through the strands of his silver-blond hair. He wanted to be happy, but the more he tried the more the simple emotion was drowned out by a bitter anger. He knew his step father was there, even if no sound was made. He kept the silence, stretching it to uncomfortable lengths as he stared at the older and taller man. HE had no ties to this man other than his mother’s pleading wish for them to get along. But now she was...she wasn’t...
“You won’t stop me, I know you don’t want me here anymore than I want to BE here
,” He spoke in a dry and cracked voice. The silhouetted figure remained silent and motionless as the colorless boy scoffed and ran a hand through his hair, glaring out the window. A year had passed since that incident and it was only if the tragedy had happened mere minutes before.
A Taxi pulled up to the front drive of the house and honked impatiently, the taxi that would take him to the airport tonight. Without another word he walked to his bed, where his already packed suitcase was. Everything was in order, he made sure of that. He would never have to come back to this place again as long as he lived. Tugging on his black felt jacket he grabbed his suitcase and turned to walk past his stepfather and out of this damned life he was forced to live for so long. The closer he got to the man, the more distant his expression became. A loud roar of thunder shook the walls of the house, as if wanting to bring it apart.
As he walked down the hallway the man’s voice suddenly called out to him, distant and cold. He paused turning to hear the words, glancing over his shoulder at the man before scoffing and resuming his pace down the hallway to the front door. Settling in the car he shook the raindrops out of his hair, barely glancing out the window as the Taxi pulled away.
“Don’t tarnish the memory of your Mother, boy. It’s all I have left. You better do well there at that music school.”
Age: Seventeen
Gender: Male
Hometown: New York
Nationality: Japanese-American
Languages Spoken: English, French, Japanese
Description: Sable, the 5’7” slender and effeminate ice prince. As girly as he looks he is sinewy and can pack quite some force behind a punch, or in his case a round-house kick. Being Japanese-American he is somewhat a visual anomaly. Blue eyes and an otherwise completely colorless complexion. One would expect a person with his features to revel in front of a camera or crowd and yet Sable is more likely to politely, but firmly deny the request of pictures and live performances outside of school. But it is with the minimal bothering that the male grudgingly agrees to be ‘dolled’ up for magazine articles and what not.
He often likes changing the color of his hair, as well as preferring dark and rebel-styled clothing. Of course that was before the invasion, now he wears whatever is more appropriate and durable. Admittedly he likes to keep his style slightly-rebel. He is fond of dark and black colors.
Skills: Sable’s trained in martial arts, dance and cooking. Some skills he picked up while on the streets are things like stealth and the habit of being unnaturally quiet.
Personality: Sable isn’t a very amiable person, he knows that he has to participate in a team to survive and accomplish things. Cool and calculating his expressions seem to range from blank to mildly annoyed. He also isn’t much of a talker but with silence comes the role of a defender. He could be a leader if he took more notice of other people’s feelings; he’s just been taking care and traveling by himself too long to think any other way. With the emotional abilities of a glacier and the mindset of a vengeful teen he is hardly the dating type. He finds romance pointless and a waste of time. How is falling in love going to help gain victor and revenge? with time he could be proven wrong.
It goes without saying that Sable is a defensive and constantly on guard person. His logic is always be ready for anything. Emotionally he has been hurt in the past. He swears to never be that weak ever again. Living on the streets for some time has also enforced his logic and given him a stronger sense of instinct. He goes by his last name as a way of staying distant from others, he believes that the last thing he needs is to get attached to people, it would hinder his focus.
Bio/History: Sable was born in Tokushima-Japan seventeen years ago, at the age of two moving to America where he calls New York home. As a child he was bright and happy, friendly and polite. He wasn’t anything out of the ordinary and part of an outwardly appearing happy family with his mother, stepfather and step siblings. He was even learning the violin and bordering a natural talent of it.
Behind the happy faces however was something less pleasant. Sable’s mother was getting sicker every month and required large amounts of undisturbed rest. It went to say that Sable who had always been closer to his mother than the rest of the family panicked slightly and vigorously practiced his music until his fingers bled. Without his mother to protect him from the sharp barbs of insults and hatred the rest of the family seemed to silently direct at him the only hopes of escape was his music, art and schooling.
It wasn’t any surprise when his mother only got worse instead of better as time went on, which proved worse for Sable as he grew up without any affection or guidance. When she passed away the boundaries of his aristocratic step family's cautious insults was lifted, overwhelming the boy with the obvious role of the black sheep.
It was about that time he was granted a scholarship to study music overseas in a prestigious academy of music in Paris. All to willingly he accepted it and excelled in his studies, none too empathetic of his only families hardships and internal affairs. Now it is his final year of scholarship at the academy in Paris and he sets his sights on a school closer to home, Julliard. Though before the school year ends the invasion occurs, overwhelming the boy.
It would be soon afterward the truth became known to the boy about his mother's death. In short it was the cause of an experimental virus that the controllers were testing.
Starting Morphs:
Land: Doberman Pinscher
Bug: Cricket
Other: Pigeon
Scene with Parent:
It was that year anniversary. Hadrian’s cold sapphire gaze stared into the nothingness of the stormy night. His forehead was pressed against the cool window, seeking reprieve against the still tearing agony his grief was threatening to destroy him with. He brought a hand up to press his slender fingers against the glass, wanting desperately to feel like it. Cold and hard, unrelenting and invisible.
The lightning flashed against the dark rolling clouds, as if a vicious snake. His room was illuminated, the white-washed walls reflecting the boy’s attachment to the room of his childhood. On the hardwood desk beside him lay an open letter, the crest of a foreign academy visible at the bottom of the page. An acceptance letter, an eager invitation to leave this strained and faux-happy play of a family.
The rain pounded heavily against the window, like some animal intent on blood and violence. Hadrian closed his eyes, a quiet fury rising in him as his fingers clawed against the glass and fell to his side. He turned to the figure at the open door, his eyes cold and expressionless through the strands of his silver-blond hair. He wanted to be happy, but the more he tried the more the simple emotion was drowned out by a bitter anger. He knew his step father was there, even if no sound was made. He kept the silence, stretching it to uncomfortable lengths as he stared at the older and taller man. HE had no ties to this man other than his mother’s pleading wish for them to get along. But now she was...she wasn’t...
“You won’t stop me, I know you don’t want me here anymore than I want to BE here
,” He spoke in a dry and cracked voice. The silhouetted figure remained silent and motionless as the colorless boy scoffed and ran a hand through his hair, glaring out the window. A year had passed since that incident and it was only if the tragedy had happened mere minutes before.
A Taxi pulled up to the front drive of the house and honked impatiently, the taxi that would take him to the airport tonight. Without another word he walked to his bed, where his already packed suitcase was. Everything was in order, he made sure of that. He would never have to come back to this place again as long as he lived. Tugging on his black felt jacket he grabbed his suitcase and turned to walk past his stepfather and out of this damned life he was forced to live for so long. The closer he got to the man, the more distant his expression became. A loud roar of thunder shook the walls of the house, as if wanting to bring it apart.
As he walked down the hallway the man’s voice suddenly called out to him, distant and cold. He paused turning to hear the words, glancing over his shoulder at the man before scoffing and resuming his pace down the hallway to the front door. Settling in the car he shook the raindrops out of his hair, barely glancing out the window as the Taxi pulled away.
“Don’t tarnish the memory of your Mother, boy. It’s all I have left. You better do well there at that music school.”
