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 Posted: Fri Jul 27, 2012 2:03 am
Name [Florian Valente]
Age [21]
Species [Half Incubus half Human]
Personality [ Florian is generally quite Apathetic towards other people and doesn't associate well with others unless it has to do with business. If he is interested however he has trouble showing it, and ends up being quite clumsy in the process. He hates being told what to do, and tends to have quite the stubborn streak. His mood seems to lighten up when the topic of art is brought up, specifically painting.]
Things he likes [Painting, a good book, sleep, sweet things, tea, music, the moon, warm nights]
Things he dislikes [ People who wont leave him alone, seeing families, pain, bitter foods, sleeping with strangers[though he does it for money anyways], the cold, violence]
About [Florian grew up on the streets after his mother abandoned him at the age of five. He was the love child of his mother and a man in which she had an affair with, not knowing that this man hadn't been human. Unknown to his mother, Florian was born as a half Incubus, though it was clear that he was not his mothers child since his eyes and hair were both black, whilst his mother and father both shared blonde hair and blue eyes. Well despite being abandoned at such a young age he learned to survive, stealing what he had to when he was younger, and as he got older he learned that people had a strange attraction to him. He used this of course, selling himself to both men and women so he could survive and get off the streets. Eventually he came to the conclusion that he couldn't simply be human, though he never would dwell on the matter. Florian also learned how much he loved art when he finally had the money to buy supplies for it, and set up a small studio inside of his home, learning that not only was he talented, but that he loved painting dearly. Painting became one of this only reasons to live, seeing as before he had only lived for the sake of living.]
Written Appearance [ Florian is a thin male, not really muscular but still an attractive build to both men and women. He had a small face and calm smoky black eyes that are framed by thick black lashes. He tends to keep his long raven hair in a low ponytail, his hair reaching down to his thighs.]
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Posted: Fri Jul 27, 2012 2:26 am
 Warm light flooded the room of a stranger, a stranger who Florian had spent the previous night with. The slender male slipped himself out of the bed, peering back at the sleeping man with cold black eyes. His pay had been set out on the table, and so he helped himself to a warm shower before he took his money and left the mans apartment. This was simply just another day...another normal day in his life. He forced himself to ignore the watchful eye of the public as he made his way down the street, his long raven black hair pulled into a low ponytail like usual so it wouldn't get in the way. Despite finding it a nuisance when it was left loose, he still refused to cut it. This did bring him more 'customers' though, seeing as his hair gave him a more androgynous appearance. Once he was inside his small apartment building he let a sigh of relief escape his lips, ascending to the top floor where he little room awaited him. His home consisted of only four rooms. A small kitchen, a sitting room, his bedroom and a bathroom, making it a very small living space. But for a boy who lived on the streets most of his life this place was like a paradise.
The air smelled slightly of paints, mixed with the males own naturally sweet scent, something that was alluring to most people he met apparently. Next door he could hear the soft sounds of two people bickering about 'boxes' and 'leaving'. The two tenants next door to him were leaving their apartment, which wasn't much bigger than his but it still had a bit more space. He was pretty sure his new neighbor was supposed to move in later in the afternoon, which was why they were so rushed to leave. The black haired male flinched slightly when he heard the door slam from next door, listening to the couples footsteps as they descended the stairs...seemed to him that his neighbors had moved out finally. "They were noisy" He muttered to himself as he wandered over to his window and leaned on the frame, gazing outside at the street below.
Florian lived in the ghetto, which despite what most people said wasn't that bad, at least for people who could live in homes. This area had many kids living on the streets, as well as grown adults. Florian had simply been lucky that he was attractive and well, not simply human. If he hadn't been then he had no doubt in his mind that he'd be outside living in the streets still. "Lucky huh?" He breathed as he pushed away from the window and wandered to the easel in the middle of the sitting room. There was a canvas on it, and on that he had painted a field of flowers, each flower given it's own attention and detail.... He'd always thought about selling his works, but in the end he couldn't bring himself to try. Instead he had quite the collection forming in the far corner of the room.
He hadn't painted for quite some time however, unable to come up with an idea. He lacked inspiration, even though he continued to seek it on a daily basis. As he stared at the painting a frown seemed to begin forming on his lips until he turned away from the picture and walked to his bedroom to change into a clean outfit. Once he was finished changing he wandered to the sitting room and sat down on his old paint stained couch, closing his eyes as he listened to the sounds of the streets through the thin walls of his apartment. Somewhere in the streets he could hear two children fighting over a scrap of food, and further away he could hear the sound of someone dieing.... This was a very common occurrence to him however and he thought nothing of it. His world had always been centered around 'survival of the fittest' and he had stopped caring about other people long ago.
As a child he'd been so confused, why had his mother left him out on the streets? But as he got older he puzzled it together. Black hair, black eyes... completely different from his mother and father in every way. The only thing he had shared with his mother was his facial shape and fair complexion. Brows knitted together at this thought and he cracked his black eyes open "Stop thinking about useless things" He hissed to himself as he stood and wandered to the window again, something he did quite frequently so he could simply stare out the window and let his mind go blank.
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