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 Posted: Fri Dec 28, 2012 7:38 am
Here, the profiles of the characters used in Collision by masquerade-of-the-angels and Arzen Claire will be posted.
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Posted: Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:42 pm
 "Success is never a destination. It is a journey." ʟᴇᴛ's ᴅᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀsɪᴄs xxxxxxxxxx ──── n a m e ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxScott Calder xxxxxxxxxx ──── n i c k n a m e s ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxScott. Maybe if you were someone special, you could have the privilege of calling me Scotch, or Scotty, but you aren't. So, Scott it is. xxxxxxxxxx ──── g e n d e r ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMale, if it didn't register to you easily enough, what with the anatomy. And the suit. Do women even wear pantsuits nowadays? How, uh, unflattering. xxxxxxxxxx ──── a g e ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI have 23 candles on my cake right now, and will gladly take a whiskey with that, seeing as I'm not old enough to be in danger of any liver disease or heart failure just yet. If you even think about calling me someone 'in my mid-twenties or going on 30', mark my words, you'll be finding yourself begging for alms in the slums by the next coffee break. xxxxxxxxxx ──── b i r t h d a y ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMarch 27 ᴜᴘ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ sᴜʀғᴀᴄᴇ xxxxxxxxxx ──── a p p e a r a n c e ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMost people say that I don't normally look the part for my kind of job. Usually, they expect me to be middle-aged, balding, and with a beer belly that could put pregnant women to shame. I expect that the reality of it is much more aesthetically pleasing to the eyes. I'm blonde, and I've got gold eyes to match. Say even a word of me being a Cullen, I will throw you to the sharks in Wall Street and leave you for dead--. I'm no muscle man, but I do make sure to keep in shape, you know, to stave off the stress attacks that will inevitably make their way into my nervous system in the forthcoming years. So I go to the gym everyday, before I go to the office. I'm a little more than lithe, lean if you may. After that, my attire almost always consists of a suit and tie. And my glasses. Sadly, my eyesight isn't what it used to be, with all this paperwork I'm in charge of. ᴅɪɢ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴅᴇᴇᴘᴇʀ xxxxxxxxxx ──── s e x u a l i t y ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxAlright, so I have a little confession to make. I might swing on a different team from the other guys, but I still play ball. And my eyes are trained on a certain prize as of late. But everyone's supposed to think that prize is my fiancee; well, that couldn't be further from the truth. I'm bisexual, and lean more towards males than I do females. Yes, I know it's screwed up, which is why nobody---not even my fiancee--is aware of my sexual orientation. And I intend of keeping it that way, thank you very much. xxxxxxxxxx ──── p e r s o n a l i t y ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxTo be honest, I'm not really the most interesting person out there, I suppose. I'm a solitary being, though it may not seem as such when I'm spotted at all these corporate events. Some of my employees would go so far as to call me cold, callous, and dispassionate (among a number of other things, I'd bet). I'd like to call it reserved, indifferent, apathetic even. When it comes to matters outside of work, you won't see me working myself into a frenzy. I do not like to trouble myself with trifling things that are not worth my time. And though I may not come from the best of backgrounds, I do enjoy intellectual privileges, like a good book or an esteemed painting. xxxxxxxxxx ──── f e a r s ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxGrowing up the way I did, there isn't much for me to be afraid of. I've faced a lot of things in my day, some more cringe-worthy than others. But there is one thing that does set off alarm bells in my head though, looming in the distant future like a cloudy mist of the unknown. It's that moment, that moment where I'm finally discovered as an impostor, and the real heir will come and take his rightful place. Then, all my hard work, the years I've wasted slaving over this job, this life will have been for nothing. Nothing. I'll be back at square one, with not a penny to my name and no future to hope for. And just the thought of that is enough to send me spiraling, screaming straight into a nightmare. xxxxxxxxxx ──── h i s t o r y ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI've never been a rich, successful business tycoon since birth. Quite the opposite, in fact. My story is that of a rags-to-riches one, you could say. But this is definitely not one of those Cinderella stories, far from it. There had been no Prince Charming or Fairy Godmother to sweep me off my feet. I'd had to work, blood, sweat and tears, hard labor and toil, all by myself to get to where I am now. And sometimes, I fear that that isn't even enough. It feels like the rug's going to be pulled out from under me one of these days and my world is going to spin on its axis. But I'm getting ahead of myself here.
I've been an orphan since birth. My parents are little more than non-existent to me, and I don't know if they're alive or not right now. Honestly, I don't even know my own last name. They just upped and left me, on the doorstep of the Holmes Chapel orphanage a few months after my birth. Well, at least that's what my caretakers have told me. At least it's somewhat comforting to know that I wasn't just salvaged by the authorities after a brutal accident...or worse. Anyway, I grew up there, in that quaint little Cheshire village, until I hit puberty. Up until then, I'd never been an extraordinary child. I'd been a quiet kid, who had a penchant for books, tea and arithmetics. I can faintly recall my hobby of selling random knick-knacks around the orphanage for a good deal. Hah, even then I'd been into business, I suppose. I had no wish to leave the kind people who had raised me like I was their own. But that goes to show that life does have a way of evading your wishes and dreams. Because that's when child services, the bane of my existence, placed me in a foster home south in Manchester.
That was a pretty dark period of my existence. The darkest, I'd reckon. Until this day, I'm not entirely sure how my foster parents were deemed equipped to handle themselves, let alone a preteen child. We all lived in a tiny shack of a house in the slums, the ghetto if you will. All around us, there was crime, and chaos. I'd gotten into my fair share of fights with the neighborhood gangs, against my will. With no one to support you, you were going to end up dead without self-defense. As for my parents, if you could even call them that, they were either drunk, or high half the time, and more often than not, I was met with a beating, physical or verbal, whenever I came home after school. Where, surprisingly, I was able to pull off decent--well, even more than decent--grades despite my home situation. They were enough to earn me a scholarship in Cambridge.
Uni, perhaps, was the time for me to truly be free. For the first time, I wasn't caged by the circumstances around me. There was no poverty around me, and I could build a new life for myself. There was no reason to return to my rathole of a home, or the scumbags that were my parents. Actually, it was then wherein I vowed to never return to a life like that again. My existence would bear no semblance to what my past was like. So, in an effort to reshape my future--and perhaps a fear of the alternative--I took matters into my own hands. Worked myself to the bone until graduation. Burned the midnight oil, and fueled my hopes for a better tomorrow. In the end, I graduated with both a degree in Business Administration and in Management Engineering. Yes, I double majored--with a minor in Economics to top it off.
Anyway, after graduation, you could say that I didn't really know what to do with my life. I was a young, impressionable yuppie, who thought he could take on the world but didn't exactly know how. I stayed for a few months in Bath, trying my luck as a traveling salesman. Business, apparently, was the one thing I excelled at. As much as I enjoyed Somerset and how it bred my adventurous spirit, though, I felt like I was getting nowhere in life. The last thing I wanted, next to poverty, was to land a boring desk job in some obscure firm. So I collected my savings so far, and was able to move to London and rent out a flat there.
And that's when I saw the Calder Group of Companies. After a few tanked job opportunities, I saw an opening there to be a banker in one of their banks. But I guess sometimes, life gives you some leeway...and something better that what you originally expected. During my first interview, Sir Fitzwilliam Calder, the then CEO of the CGC, happened to be in the office. And he took a liking to me immediately. Soon enough, I was under his wing as one of his most prized protegees. This, ultimately, was an honor. Not to mention my permanent ticket out of poverty.
Truly, fortune has taken a big turn in my direction. The most I could expect of this company was for me to become a high-ranking executive, if I could even dare to hope--CFO. Chief Financial Officer. Oh, if only I'd known what Fitz's plans for me were...especially now that his grandson, the elusive yet forever spoken about Calder heir, had turn but into a mere memory...
My time was now. And there's no way it's slipping out of my grasp this time.
ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴇᴘᴇsᴛ ᴋᴇᴇᴘsᴀᴋᴇ xxxxxxxxxx ──── s e c r e t ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI guess by now, my secret's pretty obvious: I'm not really the true heir to the Calder Group of Companies. Somehow, I feel like half a man--and no, that wasn't an allusion to my hidden bisexuality. Though maybe you could factor that in, since I'm not really attracted to my fiancee, Natalie, at all. Anyway, well. It's like I'm stealing someone else's success, someone else's birthright, someone else's life. I don't have anything that's rightfully mine in this situation. I don't feel like I deserve any of this, no matter how much it may seem that I've worked hard enough for it. ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sᴄᴇɴᴇs xxxxxxxxxx ──── p u p p e t e e r ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxmasquerade-of-the-angels xxxxxxxxxx ──── s o n g ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxSail - AWOLNATION xxxxxxxxxx ──── f a c e iiic l a i m ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxHeiwajima Shizuo
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Posted: Tue Jan 08, 2013 8:27 am
 "I- Itsfien. No, uh, I mean, it's fine." ʟᴇᴛ's ᴅᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀsɪᴄs xxxxxxxxxx ──── n a m e ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxThe name is Arthur Blake Calder Yaxley. Yes, I have weird initials, no matter how you look at it. ABY and ABC. Dandy name, don't you think?xxxxxxxxxx ──── n i c k n a m e s ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI am not fond of nicknames, please and thank you.xxxxxxxxxx ──── g e n d e r ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI am male. No doubt about it.xxxxxxxxxx ──── a g e ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx21xxxxxxxxxx ──── b i r t h d a y ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI was born on the twenty-third of December. I first saw the earth as a winter wonderland. ᴜᴘ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ sᴜʀғᴀᴄᴇ xxxxxxxxxx ──── a p p e a r a n c e ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI have never been good in describing myself. But, uh, let's see. I am of medium height (not too tall, nor too short for my age). I am lean and lithe, but not muscular. My complexion is somewhat a pale-ish fair, due to the small amount of time I spend outdoors. My face, for someone who has already gotten past puberty, is a lot less angular than it is supposed to be. I have dark hair that always looks disheveled (no use in trying to tame it) and deep blue eyes that always seem to appear black.
Okay, um, clothes. I like layers. Lots and lots of baggy layers. I happen to be fond of long sleeves and stripes. Oh, and plain and solid and dull colors. I'm not really what you call a fashion expert. That is pretty much obvious with how I dress. ᴅɪɢ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴅᴇᴇᴘᴇʀ xxxxxxxxxx ──── s e x u a l i t y ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxPoof. Shirtlifter. Pillowbiter. Bitchsquealer. Queer. However you wish to call it. Yes, I am bent.xxxxxxxxxx ──── p e r s o n a l i t y ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMy whole personality can be summarized in two words: social recluse. Alright, I'll elaborate, for the sole purpose of making me seem completely literate and intelligent, which I am not. I shy away from attention. I do not like eyes being on me, or unknown people talking to me. I enjoy a share of insults when it comes to sarcasm, since I know very well that it's one of my main languages, but serious insults are something I flinch upon.
I take a lot of things very seriously, and fret upon those I consider important. Other than that, I happen to be completely passive, since I have found things easier to deal with if I just ignore them and wait for everything to drift away from me.
On a special note, if there is one thing I've always wished for, it is escape. I am good with dealing with responsibilities, with juggling work and leisure and rest, but most of time, I find myself wanting everything to go away so I could just lie on a carpet and spend the whole day staring at the ceiling. So, I suppose I have a side to me that's exceptionally lazy.
In overall, I tend to hide under this protective layer. I refrain from showing my real thoughts, unless if I am around those I am familiar with. I dislike showing vulnerability, although I feel vulnerable really often. And thus, I limit my expressions and reactions to those I consider enough. This makes me appear snobby and anti-social to a lot of people, but past that layer, it's somewhat easy to read me. Well, if you know me and my tells well enough.xxxxxxxxxx ──── f e a r s ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMy grandfather, Fitzwilliam Calder. All my life, he has been this humongous looming cloud over me. And I am terrified of him, always was, and always will be. I can't shake off this nagging feeling that this freedom will be short-lived and that I will be, once again, thrust back into the dark abyss that I constantly lived in in my past.xxxxxxxxxx ──── h i s t o r y ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxOnce upon, there was a little prince born to this realy rich family-- yeah, no, my life's pretty far from a fairytale. The background of the story seems fancy enough, I suppose. I was born in London, to a rich family on the top of the business world. Now, with a family like this, you'd think I would be spoiled and arrogant little brat who paraded around, shouting to the world his name and property. Bloody hell no. In fact, I was the complete opposite. I did everything with a lowered head and a nervous biting of the lip. Early on in my life, my grandfather had been watching over me. He dictated my life. My clothes, my manners, my knowledge... everything. Do this, do that, don't do that, don't do this, etc etc. He did nothing but that and to heavily criticize my short-comings. And being a nervous little kid who tried to watch his back and his movements, I had a lot of them. Well, seemingly a lot. I didn't experience most things normal kids did around my age. If they were learning how to ride a bicycle, I was in the family library, learning how to speak Spanish, Italian, Chinese, and whatever my grandfather wanted.
When I stepped into grade school, I was sent to an all-boy's boarding school somewhere in Canada. My already low-self-esteem was even pummeled into the ground when my childish classmates made fun of me and my weird British accent. I secretly hated everything, but continued to tolerate everything that was thrown my way, with the thought that my mother was waiting for me to go home every hols. Mum was the only light in my life. She was the only one who understood me, who really loved me; my father was a good-for-nothing bas|ard who followed grandfather's wishes to the point of idiocy.
However, my mum died. Yes, cliche it may seem, she really died. It is no laughing matter. I was in the middle of my 4th grade Math class when the Headmaster excused me from classes to tell me the news and advice me to pack my things. Honestly? I felt like some Chinese Cinderella then and there, unliked and unloved by family.
Without my mother to look forward to, my grades started failing. My grandfather was definitely not amused. And it was made worse when my father decided to remarry. Yes, definitely Chinese Cinderella. My stepmother acted like I didn't exist, but at least she wasn't cruel to me. Unfortunately, she and father had no children whatsoever, because she was infertile. Because of this, I was still the unfortunate heir to the Calder 'empire.' Much to the displeasure of my grandfather.
He worked me harder, even making me study Latin. I had this sudden epiphany to just take advantage of this... stupid life. I studied harder, getting myself accelerated from freshman year to junior year of high school. I met my best friend, my sassy friend ______ . High school, back then, was by far the most enjoyable time of my life. I, contrary to popular belief, did high school-y things. I partied (but no alcohol; I saw what that thing did to people and had no plans of embarrassing myself), sneaked out of the dorms, yada yada yada. And, yes, well, I found out I was officially gay. There were some signs of it earlier on, but that was the first time I was really confronted with the fact that I fancied blokes over chits. It wasn't something surprising, I suppose, but I was appalled by the knowledge that I would be married off to some pampered bird from a rich family when the time came. But I just shoved that to the back of my mind and just continued on with my life.
I graduated from high school with top-notch grades and a valedictorian on my diploma. My grandfather was secretly pleased at this, and instantly enrolled me to Oxford. As much as I wanted to study Psychology, I was thrust into Business Management. Again, another fact I ignored.
And here came the last straw. My grandfather took me home to deliver some good news. And knowing him, it was probably bad news for me. And, woop-de-doo, I was to be engaged to someone named Natalie Derton. It's a long story, but we got into an argument and I let it slip that I was gay and all that, and dun dun duuuuuun, I got disowned my final year in Oxford. Well... it was more of I disowned myself.
After that incident, I lived with my best friend and just worked in the cafes all over London that her family owned. I switch places every couple of months in fear that my family will find me. See, I've been enjoying myself. The suffocation I've always felt when I was still a Calder was now gone. I was a Yaxley, no longer a Calder.
And, well, now, I decided to move in with my best friend. And, just my luck, she decided to live in the cafe nearest the main building of the Calder Group of Companies. Woop-de-doo. ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴇᴘᴇsᴛ ᴋᴇᴇᴘsᴀᴋᴇ xxxxxxxxxx ──── s e c r e t ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxYou'd think a social recluse like me would have a lot of secrets. Not really. I only have one. Have you ever heard of the Calder Group of Companies? And the ultra-powerful family that was behind it? The Calders? Yes, well. This is not a well-known piece of fact, but they have a disowned son. That son... happens to be me. ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sᴄᴇɴᴇs xxxxxxxxxx ──── p u p p e t e e r ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxArzen Clairexxxxxxxxxx ──── s o n g ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxPerfect - Simple Plan | Someday - U-KISS | Take Me Away - U-KISSxxxxxxxxxx ──── f a c e iiic l a i m ↘↘ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxFushimi Saruhiko from K Project
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