Post by Melodia on Feb 3, 2008 21:25:01 GMT -5
Name: Virgil (Ver-jil)
Gender: Male
Age (approx.): About 19-20 ish
Appearance: Intimidatingly tall, towering over any certain crowd of people at any certain time. He has a lean yet stocky build, with thin muscles and slightly broad shoulders. His skin is fair; a few freckles lightly dot the bridge of his nose to shed a beautiful, innocent look. Virgil’s hair is a dusty brunette, soft and lengthy so that it often falls in front of his brown eyes.
And then his more…defined quality.
He has wings. But wings that are not fully developed, or finished, or…natural. They are metal rods connected to his interbeing, his skeleton, made of an impeccable metal that can almost never retain damage. They are made up of a complex blueprint, hooked together by an assortment of wires and mechanics and, to make them work, long, flat round-edged blades. The blades move together in a whirring rush to force him into the air. But they’re dangerous. Extremely. When he even nears trees, buildings, anything, the blades that make up his wings simply slice through and destroy everything and anything he gets near to. (But that’s only when he’s flying) Virgil can fold his wings, but they are not very compactable and sort of stick out from his back, so that if he wore a coat over them it would be all too obvious.
So basically, he’s stuck with these light yet heavy, indestructible deadly metal wings. =)
Past: Virgil is a real, living, breathing person but he was sort of…created. He knows nothing of his past except for a few hazy, painful flashes of memory. He was abused growing up by his dad his entire life (his mother had left them when he was a baby). His father was an alcoholic and would always beat up on Virgil for the smallest of mistakes. Virgil tried to live a normal life but teachers and friends would question the bruises and busted lips. He was living this big lie and taking a toll emotionally because of it. But one night his father hit him a little too hard and the left side of his face started to swell and bleed and his eye wouldn’t open, so his dad offered to take him to the hospital and Virgil made the mistake of agreeing.
He did not go to the hospital. His dad was raving drunk and decided to drive off into the country. Virgil listened helplessly from the backseat as he slurred, “Good fer nuthin kid…gonna get you gone fer good you little idiot.” And so on until the boy came to the conclusion that he was going to be left out in the wilderness to, unfortunately, die. And so he lunged towards the drivers seat in a pitiful attempt to be rid of his father’s antics. The car swerved off the road, and, unfortunately, a cliff—it smashed against the ground fifty feet below and rolled a few times, before settling back down in its normal state. And then it burst into flame.
His dad died almost immediately, but he didn’t. Virgil pulled himself from the wreckage and then lay on the sand next to the burning car, surely going to die from severe injury. The last thing he felt was a pair of hands pulling him up, and then nothing.
There was this man, you see. Live alone. Labeled “mad” by his former colleagues, he left a biogenetics institution to study alone in his house in the desert. He saw the flames from the car and found Virgil outside, dying. So he brought him back and did all he could for the boy, but he was a goner no matter what. So the scientist did what any good scientist would do and he…experimented. And in the end, he saved Virgil’s life. But his memory would be wiped out from his entire life because his brain was badly damaged and so the man added a sort of mechanic to it. And his motor skills would be gone and so the man gave Virgil wings in hopes to re-teach him it all.
And he did. Virgil became like a son to the old man. The scientist taught him, a fifteen year old boy, how to walk, to talk, proper etiquette, about the outside world, and, most importantly, how to fly. And he was going to get new wings, real wings, like the wings on birds! With feathers and all! Virgil had new wings planned for his future, on his “birthday.” (The day when the man found him and re-programmed him.) Yep, the old man was already beginning preparations...
But then the scientist, nearing his nineties, past away. And Virgil was left alone in the world.
And so begins his adventures. =)
Personality: He’s very innocent and obedient and shy and gentle. He doesn’t like or dislike his wings but he lives with them, because it’s all he’s ever known. Virgil, he’s…different. He isn’t used to people, having lived in solitude with his “father,” the scientist. He can be all the things listed above but he has an unknown power in himself, a will that even in his early life he had never discovered. It just takes the right person to bring that part of him to the surface.
Current Life: After the scientist died, a happening he wasn’t familiar with, Virgil left. He walked up and down the desert road for a few days (there isn’t much need for food or water, most of him is artificial). And then he started to fly and didn’t stop until he reached Ireland, but that country frightened him so he left. America was too loud and he was scared there too. But then he came across Lordight, and it surprisingly wasn’t so bad. He’s been there for a week now.
Pet (if any): None
Other: Yeah…Edward Scissorhands fetish =) Omg *rereads* I'm so evil to my characters...
Gender: Male
Age (approx.): About 19-20 ish
Appearance: Intimidatingly tall, towering over any certain crowd of people at any certain time. He has a lean yet stocky build, with thin muscles and slightly broad shoulders. His skin is fair; a few freckles lightly dot the bridge of his nose to shed a beautiful, innocent look. Virgil’s hair is a dusty brunette, soft and lengthy so that it often falls in front of his brown eyes.
And then his more…defined quality.
He has wings. But wings that are not fully developed, or finished, or…natural. They are metal rods connected to his interbeing, his skeleton, made of an impeccable metal that can almost never retain damage. They are made up of a complex blueprint, hooked together by an assortment of wires and mechanics and, to make them work, long, flat round-edged blades. The blades move together in a whirring rush to force him into the air. But they’re dangerous. Extremely. When he even nears trees, buildings, anything, the blades that make up his wings simply slice through and destroy everything and anything he gets near to. (But that’s only when he’s flying) Virgil can fold his wings, but they are not very compactable and sort of stick out from his back, so that if he wore a coat over them it would be all too obvious.
So basically, he’s stuck with these light yet heavy, indestructible deadly metal wings. =)
Past: Virgil is a real, living, breathing person but he was sort of…created. He knows nothing of his past except for a few hazy, painful flashes of memory. He was abused growing up by his dad his entire life (his mother had left them when he was a baby). His father was an alcoholic and would always beat up on Virgil for the smallest of mistakes. Virgil tried to live a normal life but teachers and friends would question the bruises and busted lips. He was living this big lie and taking a toll emotionally because of it. But one night his father hit him a little too hard and the left side of his face started to swell and bleed and his eye wouldn’t open, so his dad offered to take him to the hospital and Virgil made the mistake of agreeing.
He did not go to the hospital. His dad was raving drunk and decided to drive off into the country. Virgil listened helplessly from the backseat as he slurred, “Good fer nuthin kid…gonna get you gone fer good you little idiot.” And so on until the boy came to the conclusion that he was going to be left out in the wilderness to, unfortunately, die. And so he lunged towards the drivers seat in a pitiful attempt to be rid of his father’s antics. The car swerved off the road, and, unfortunately, a cliff—it smashed against the ground fifty feet below and rolled a few times, before settling back down in its normal state. And then it burst into flame.
His dad died almost immediately, but he didn’t. Virgil pulled himself from the wreckage and then lay on the sand next to the burning car, surely going to die from severe injury. The last thing he felt was a pair of hands pulling him up, and then nothing.
There was this man, you see. Live alone. Labeled “mad” by his former colleagues, he left a biogenetics institution to study alone in his house in the desert. He saw the flames from the car and found Virgil outside, dying. So he brought him back and did all he could for the boy, but he was a goner no matter what. So the scientist did what any good scientist would do and he…experimented. And in the end, he saved Virgil’s life. But his memory would be wiped out from his entire life because his brain was badly damaged and so the man added a sort of mechanic to it. And his motor skills would be gone and so the man gave Virgil wings in hopes to re-teach him it all.
And he did. Virgil became like a son to the old man. The scientist taught him, a fifteen year old boy, how to walk, to talk, proper etiquette, about the outside world, and, most importantly, how to fly. And he was going to get new wings, real wings, like the wings on birds! With feathers and all! Virgil had new wings planned for his future, on his “birthday.” (The day when the man found him and re-programmed him.) Yep, the old man was already beginning preparations...
But then the scientist, nearing his nineties, past away. And Virgil was left alone in the world.
And so begins his adventures. =)
Personality: He’s very innocent and obedient and shy and gentle. He doesn’t like or dislike his wings but he lives with them, because it’s all he’s ever known. Virgil, he’s…different. He isn’t used to people, having lived in solitude with his “father,” the scientist. He can be all the things listed above but he has an unknown power in himself, a will that even in his early life he had never discovered. It just takes the right person to bring that part of him to the surface.
Current Life: After the scientist died, a happening he wasn’t familiar with, Virgil left. He walked up and down the desert road for a few days (there isn’t much need for food or water, most of him is artificial). And then he started to fly and didn’t stop until he reached Ireland, but that country frightened him so he left. America was too loud and he was scared there too. But then he came across Lordight, and it surprisingly wasn’t so bad. He’s been there for a week now.
Pet (if any): None
Other: Yeah…Edward Scissorhands fetish =) Omg *rereads* I'm so evil to my characters...
