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 Posted: Sat Oct 18, 2008 7:30 am
"Something there?" .....where shadows lurk and there's someone always there.....
"Not funny, now come out!"
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Posted: Sat Oct 18, 2008 7:58 am
"Erm.....question, before you make me spill everything about me?"
Personal Information
Basic Statistics
Name: Alastair Iain Delorean
Age: 19, going to be 20 in a few days.
Nationality: English
Hometown: London, England
Current Residence: New York City, New York
Occupation: Freelance Journalist
Talents/Skills: Pretty good at sketching, and finding good books, of course.
Birth order: First and only.
Siblings (describe relationship): N/A.
Parents (describe relationship): Haley Toppington and Joseph Delorean. He doesn't really have much of a relationship with either, as they're both dead, or so he was led to believe. Alastair used to be really close with his parents, however...they'd spend most of their free time together.
Significant Others (describe relationship): N/A.
Relationship skills: ...hoo boy, is he awkward. His skill with relationship? He knows how not to get in them, and if he does, be awkward enough to have the other get frustrated and leave. he doesn't mean to, but that's just him.
Physical Characteristics:
Height: 6 foot 3.
Weight: 135 lbs.
Race: Caucasian.
Eye Color: Blue with gray streaks. Think tie-dye with that.
Hair Color: Mostly a golden brown with some blond streaks all over the place.
Hair style (picture reference may be used): Long, falling over his eyes, in a ponytail that touches a little bit past his shoulders.
Glasses or contact lenses?: Thin silver wire frame glasses on occasion, rectangle shaped, bottom edge unframed. Contact lenses most of the time.
Skin color: Sort of pale, kind of pasty peach.
Distinguishing features: His eyes, and how tall he is. He also has a small swirl tattoo coming of the corner of his right eye, which is red and tilts down to touch the top of his cheekbone.
How does he/she dress? Long dark greatcoat, black pants, untucked white tuxedo shirt is the norm. He also wears a leather string with a small stone pendant with a green-black stone carved in the shape of a snake biting its tail,
Mannerisms: He's immensely awkward with most everybody he doesn't really know. Even more so with those he doesn't.
Habits: Alastair twiddles a strand of his hair around his finger when bored, and pushes up his glasses almost continually when he's nervous.
Health: Pretty healthy, overall. In surprisingly good physical conditions, seeing as he doesn't get out much.
Hobbies: Reading books, drawing, taking care of Darbin, his albino leopard gecko, web surfing, and traveling. Photography as well.
Favorite Sayings: 'If you're not sick of it yet, then you're not doing it right.'
Vernacular: Your average English. Surprisingly, New York dialogue and accent hasn't gotten into his speech. He does speak Czech as well, but not particularly fluently.
Disabilities: He can't see very well without his glasses. Meaning, he's prone to running into stuff without either his contacts of glasses, so if those get lost, then he's practically blind.
Style (Elegant, shabby etc.): Refined and classy.
Intellectual/Mental/Personality Attributes and Attitudes
Educational Background: Alastair went to college at Princeton University, using the money that his parents had left him to fund his way through. He has a Bachelor's Degree in English Literature.
How does the Character see himself/herself? He just sees himself as the bookworm sort. He's a bit chafed by that.
How does the Character believe he/she is perceived by others? Either a bookish English gentleman, as his friend Marie sees him, or just some tall guy that reads too much.
How self-confident is the character? Alastair is....well. He's fairly confident of himself, but it can take him a while to gather up the pluck to do certain things.
Does the character seem ruled by emotion or logic or some combination thereof? He just basically seems to be ruled by the principle of 'if there's people, get the heck outta there'.
What would most embarrass this character? Most everything, really! But most of all would be to be stuck in a big crowd. That's why he doesn't go out too much.
Greatest flaw(s): Alastair will often overlook the greatest flaws in the people he's grown to trust. He also is judgmental and takes too much value in first impressions.
Best quality(ies): He's loyal to the end, as well as extremely generous. He also is extremely intelligent, and can find out all kinds of things in a short time.
Emotional Characteristics
Introvert or Extrovert? Introvert, most definitely.
How does the character deal with anger? By finding a good adventure novel, flipping to the part where the villain gets what's coming to him, and reading it. Except he imagines something about what got him mad, and sticks it onto the villain.
With sadness? He draws curvy abstracts in his sketchbook to get over sadness. It at least takes his mind off of whatever made him sad, but sometimes what he draws can just freak him out....
With conflict? Alastair just stews over it until he finds a solution. usually it takes about two, three days for him to find out how o fix it. But by then, it's either fixed already, or beyond repair.
With change? Alastair prefers to keep things the way they are, but if something does change on him, he tries to get over it in a way that's least offensive to all parties involved.
With loss? Oh, this one hits Alastair hard. Loss will make him sit inside his study for days on end, trying to take his mind off of whatever --or whoever-- he lost.
What does the character want out of life? To know why he isn't quite what he wanted to be, and to fix himself up so that he's just that.
What would the character like to change in his/her life? He would love, absolutely love, to change the fact that he's scared of so much stuff. Alastair wants to become the outgoing, adventurous person that his father wanted him to be, and more.
What motivates this character? The prospect of having a library of monolithic proportions! Alastair's a big reader.
What frightens this character? Fire. I think it'd be kind of fun to see him getting over his fear of the stuff. Deep water will scare the heck out of him, too. Also heights. And big dogs. Hobos really freak him out for some reason. ...alright, quite a few things.
What makes this character happy? Books, solitude, libraries, quiet..just think bookworm and you'll have him down pat.
Is the character judgmental of others? Oh, yes. He goes on first impressions most of the time, but if anything about the other interests him, he might delve further.
Is the character generous or stingy? Alastair would give everyone he knows most everything he's got. Somebody he doesn't know too well, tough luck.
Is the character generally polite or rude? Ehhhh, he can be rude sometimes. Mostly quite the gentleman, though.
Special Characteristics
What is the domain is your character most likely to belong to? Light.
What is the domain is your character least likely to belong to? Most anything relating to Soul, because he's not really somebody who would fit in there.
What is the element is your character most likely to belong to? Fire or Air.
What is the element is your character least likely to belong to? ...Water.
Do they fight at close or long range? Both.
What is their weapon? Three blades, one a large, sharply curved knife, one a jagged and long dirk, the other a sharp, thin, and straight dagger, made for stabbing and thrusting.
Is there a reason behind the choice of weapon? Alastair found the three knives in a display case in a musty corner of his friend's old library a long time ago. When shown the knives, his friend basically freaked out, saying he wanted nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with those blades. He begged Alastair to take them, so he did. To this day, he has no clue why his friend was so utterly terrified of the knives.
In the real world what does the weapon transform into? ...aaaaabsolutely nothing. They're just your average knives, albeit very nice and odd ones. The large curved one seems to glow every now and then, the jagged seems to flash with electricity.The rapier-dirk seems to blacken, though...kind of creepy things, really. Alastair just thinks it's tricks of the light, but one time with the jagged, he got a shock from it.
"Who are you?"
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Posted: Sat Oct 18, 2008 3:27 pm
"Not talking? Hm...s...so...what do I do then?"
How Alastair Got Here
Death.
Yet another three in the paper today. Whatever the odd...thing was, it was spreading, and fast. Last week, it had been the Decatos, the nice old couple on the corner that had brought Alastair cookies when he first moved in. Then a few days after, that quiet guy that always sat in the corner of the coffee shop downstairs. Then the Jamesons, the family next door. And now, it was Mrs. Hastings, that delightfully cheery old lady that lived next door. Alastair didn't quite know how Mr. Hastings was taking it, but he hoped that he wasn't in too bad a shape. He liked the old man. But anyway, people had been dying all over this area. Quite a few that he knew, actually.
What unnerved him the most was that this had started when he had moved in.
Alastair didn't quite know what to make of the odd deaths in the area. He thought it was something he might have brought with him from way over in Burbank where he had wintered in his father's old home. He didn't know, but it just might be that. Or, it could be something completely unrelated to him, a mere coincidence. It's not like he knew, either way.
Hearing a knock at the door, Alastair put down the paper and strode over, taking a look in the peephole to see who it was.
Oddly enough, there was no one there. Alastair could see the faintest wisp of dark smoke spiraling down the stairway, though....and that unnerved him. Walking over to his leopard gecko's tank with a shrug, he reached down to lift the little albino creature up.
A warning noise from the tank caused him to recoil. "Darbin, what's wrong with you?" Alastair said, an eyebrow raised. He crouched down to take a look at the little gecko from the side of the tank.
Darbin was curled up in the farthest corner of his tank from the door, sitting stock still. He was watching the door, as if something just outside was scaring the heck out of him.... Alastair was distinctly creeped out by now. He went back to the door to screen the hall and make sure nothing was there. Putting his eye to the peephole, he took a look at the hall outside....
...and recoiled as fast as he could with a barely-stifled yelp. That smoke, that sinister whatever it was, it was back. It looked fatter now, sleeker...as if it had just eaten. And it was lurking right in front of his door, as if it was waiting for him to come so that it could ensnare him in its oily clutches.....
A faint knock sounded at the door. Alastair walked, being as silent as he could, over to the case that held the three knives and pulled out the sharply curved knife. Holding the deep blue blade at the ready behind his back, he creeped closer to the door. Another knock sounded, slightly louder and more urgent this time. Alastair was sweating now for some reason. The air was cold, adrenaline was pumping through his veins, and he exhaled softly and slowly. He licked his lips and got a firmer grip on the doorknob. Turning it oh so slowly, enough to where every little click the knob made as it swiveled in its brass sheathing rang through the air and screamed raucously in Alastair's ears. He jerked open the door, tightening his grip on the knife...
...and came face to face with Marie from across the hall. Recoiling slightly, he set the knife on the table with as fluid a motion as he could muster. His friend looked at him oddly, a mix between concern and curiosity on her tanned face.
"Looks like something startled you." Marie inquired, tilting her head.
"Well, ah, yes, you could say that."
"Was it really that bad?"
"If you count odd knockings when nobody's there, and some kind of odd smoke lurking outside my door, then yes, it was really that bad. Darbin, the poor little bugger, was scared right out of his wits. That's not normal."
"No, I would say not."
"What do you think it was?"
"I dunno. Some kind of smoke, you say?"
"Yes, thick, black, and it clung to the floor. But it moved, Marie. I know you must think I'm crazy, but it...oozed down the stairs. It must've come back and taken a stop at my door, I think."
"I think you've just had a scare and need something to calm your nerves. Come on, let's hit up the coffee shop."
"Alright."
"Hold on a second. I think I need to check something. You go on ahead, I'll meet you down there."
"Alright, Al. Don't get caught up here, alright?" Marie said, turning back to face him with a wink before she walked down the stairs.
"Now..." Alastair murmured, taking a step towards his neighbor's door. He rapped on the flaking white painted door with his knuckles. "Mr. Hastings?" he called, listening closely for any sounds of movement.
"Mr. Hastings, are you in there?" A fairly stupid question, since he had seen the portly old man waddle into his apartment less than ten minutes ago. The old man rusted him and had given him a spare key, just in case anything happened. "Mr. Hastings, I'm coming in." Alastair called, lifting the key out of his pocket and setting it in the lock.
Eerily enough, the door was already unlocked. It swung open slowly at his touch, the hinges squeaking as they moved. Taking a second to steel himself, Alastair took a step in.
The scene inside was horrible, and it caused Alastair to recoil in disgust and fear. Mr. Hastings was lying on the floor, blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth. His eyes were staring wide open, the whites turned red. He seemed to have been...drained, somehow.
Alastair bolted down the stairs, grabbing on to a phone nearby and calling the police.
He knew that they weren't going to do much good, however...for whatever had killed Mr. Hastings, and apparently the other victims, was clearly supernatural.
And it seemed to be targeting those around him. Saving him for last, maybe? Either way, he had to leave here. He had to move. But where? All of the sudden, Alastair remembered a place he had heard of when surfing the web...someplace called Harajuku in Japan. Tokyo, apparently, from what he recalled.
That was where he was bound next.
"....a-are you still there?"
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Posted: Sat Oct 18, 2008 3:42 pm
"Hm....what to do, what to do...."
Calendar
Io/I3/08--Alastair won in the grand opening flatsale!
Io/I8/o8--Started setting up Alastair's journal after being ungrounded.
"...since I have no chance of being rid of you, best get this over with."
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Posted: Sat Oct 18, 2008 3:45 pm
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Posted: Sat Oct 18, 2008 4:05 pm
"Dobře, to stačí!"
The Friends and Enemies
...friends
None yet. Just moved into Harajuku. enemies...
None yet.
"That's two languages I have to tell you to leave in now! Do you really not get the hint...?"
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