Must be signed in and friends with that member to view that page.
✎ 1x1 ✐ discussion
1x1
>
Llama and Zombie
date
newest »
newest »
Ah yeah, I wanted to play Muse A anyway. I'll make my character in a bit :)
Name: Kian Luther
Age: 21
Appearance:
Kian stands at 5'9 and at only 110Ibs, he's well underweight, so much that every bone shows under his skin. His hair is black and messy, usually swept to the side and reaching just below his ears. His eye are bright green, standing out against the dark bags beneath them.
Many scars litter his wrists, but they are always concealed under a black bandana and leather cuffs. He has two piercings, one in his brow and another in his lip, and his left arm and shoulder are covered in tattoos.
His face usually bears at least one bruise or cut, courtesy of fights he so adores.
Personality: Quiet and unsocial, Kian will often appear cold, even emotionless at times. The only emotion he often lets show is anger. But that is all a facade, because the boy underneath has been hurt time and again by those he held dearest.
He has a quick temper and even quicker fists, usually resorting to physical fights to let loose his emotions. Strength is not on his side, but he fights like a caged beast full of dirty tricks and no regard for his wellbeing, which is why he usually emerges victorious.
He can actually be quite fun when drunk or high, as he will sometimes loosen up and flirt with anything that moves.
History: Will be revealed in the story.
Somewhere between 20-25 would be best, I think
Oh, I love him, he's great! Any questions or should I start us off?
Ah that's not a problem at all, I won't be able to reply too often either
Kian had only been at the hospital for an hour, but already the other patients seemed to fear him. Perhaps it was the fist that landed in another patient's face - 20 or so years old, he seemed to run this place, like a popular boy at school that everyone feared - when he tried to force Kian into submission, or maybe it was his eyes that seemed to scream bloody murder. Whatever the reason, the young boy didn't mind. He liked his peace and even as he walked through the halls with hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans and a hood over his face, the patients shuddered away and got quiet as he passed them. He was told that his room was at the very end of the hallway, and that his roommate was a boy the same age as him, which hadn't exactly left him excited. He'd hoped he would be alone, but maybe he could make his roommate hate his guts - or better yet, fear him - so he'd request a room change.
He entered the room without a word and sat down on his bed, pulling out a suitcase from under his bed that was delivered there earlier. He pulled out a pair of black sweatpants and a T-shirt, along with a towel and started to walk out without even a glance in the other boy's direction.
Kian's step faltered when the guy spoke. He clenched the clothes in his hands tightly and took a deep breath. His nerves were already frayed, and the last thing he needed was a control freak for a roommate. The sooner he found a way to get rid of him, the better.He cast a lazy glance over his shoulder, staring at the other boy with eyes so empty they might as well belong to a dead shark. His gaze travelled from the bottom of his feet to the top of his head, stopping momentarily at the blue dog.
The boy was taller than him, but he didn't seem dangerous. He looked like most of the other patients he'd seen - broken.
He licked his lips and raised his eyes to the boy's. "Your problem," was all he said, voice nearly robotic, before striding out of the room.
At least the showers were close to the room. His room, he supposed, though he was certain he wouldn't be spending long inside the hospital. He'd break out if he needed to. He'd do anything to get out, out of this place that reminded him too much of his mother at her worst. She was better now, or at least that's what she claimed after lying her way out of this same hospital. But she had given him one useful piece of information, back when she was locked up: apparently, weed, and even some other drugs, were easy to come by. All you had to do was find a man named Moondog.
Finished with his shower - or rather, forced out of it by loud, insistent knocking on the door - Kian dried off and got dressed. He pushed out of the stall, brushing past the man without so much as a glance, and made his way back into the room.
Kian was halfway across the room when he realized something. His suitcase was missing."What the hell," he exclaimed before nearly running over to his bed, his eyes searching frantically. And-
There. Peeking out from underneath his bed, he could just make it out.
Anger flooded him and he dropped the clothes and the towel he was carrying to the ground. He spun on his heels, his eyes no longer dead, but holding promise of violence to come.
"You touched my stuff." His voice had dropped dangerously low.
If there was one thing Kian hated, it was people messing with his belongings.
He couldn't count the times his father had stormed into his room in one of his drunked fits, hurting not only Kian, but also his things. Tearing posters from the walls, flipping over furniture, sometimes even smashing the goddamn light fixture.
So Kian would make damn sure that no one touched anything of his in here.
Kian stalked to the other boy, his steps slow, predatory. He stopped just a foot from where the boy was sitting. "Never do that again," he snarled, the action more animal than human. "If you do," he breathed, leaning down until their breaths mingled, "I am going to gut you like a pig, and use your own intestines to hang you from the ceiling. Capiche?"
Kian actually flinched back at the boy's response, his eyes widening slightly.He was used to people getting scared when he confronted them. He was used to some losing their temper and attacking him. Some even completely ignored him. But this...
This was something completely different.
Kian wondered if his words had stirred up some memories the boy desperately wanted to forget. Wondered if his words were too harsh.
God only knew how many times he himself had been pushed down into the abyss of bad memories, having to claw his way back out. By people raising their voice without warning, or moving too fast, or even just staring at him angrily.
He'd learned to suppress those instincts, to not put his arms in front of his face, to not let his voice quaver. His father thrived on fear, on that absolute control he could exercise over his son. And Kian knew that when he just silently took the beatings, they would end sooner. They wouldn't be so extreme. Wouldn't land him in a hospital.
So Kian took a deep breath and did something that went against every part of his being.
He apologized.
"I'm sorry." The words sounded strained. But the word sorry was not in his vocabulary any more. And it had been so long since he'd actually been sincere while saying it.
He reached out tentatively towards the boy- but pulled back almost immediately. He himself hated it when people touched him. Unless it was during a fight, or in a bedroom, Kian shied away from all physical contact. But he'd had hugs forced on him. Or just a pat on the back. Those insignificant touches that sent him into a panic. He didn't know if the boy felt the same way, but Kian wasn't about to force him.
He forced himself to sit on the floor in front of the boy. God, he hated this, felt so defenseless, but maybe the boy would feel less intimidated.
"I'm Kian."
Kian smiled a little when the boy - Jack - stopped shaking. It was a strained smile, yet another thing he wasn't used to - if he didn't count the smirks - but a smile nonetheless."Jackie," he drawled out, slowly, almost sensually. But, he realized, flirting with the boy that was to be his roommate for god knows how long maybe wasn't the best idea. His flirtations usually ended in some steamy bedroom activities, and with the other person hating him when Kian, quite bluntly, told them that he wasn't interested in anything more. He really didn't need that with someone he'd be some much time with.
Even if the boy was exactly his type.
"I like it," he said finally. "And I, ah..." Kian sucked on his lower lip as he tried to figure out how to assure Jack that he wasn't going to hurt him.
Doing so many things out of character in the span of a few minutes... Kian briefly wondered if this place was already driving him insane.
"I am sorry," he said slowly, carefully picking his words. "I have a bit of a temper, I suppose. Nothing personal, it's just..." Kian huffed a soft laugh and shook his head. "Never mind. But I can leave if I'm making you uncomfortable."
Gods, this was all so weird. Kian usually lived for the express purpose of making others uncomfortable, scared. He was well aware he was an asshole.
Maybe he just had a thing for broken people. Who knew.
Kian's demeanor changed the instant the nurse spoke. His face hardened, and his muscles tensed. He didn't care how nice, or kind, she was. It wasn't her fault thar he was in here. But she represented this gods-awful institution that he hated so goddamn much.He turned to glare at her- and froze.
He knew her. He'd never bothered to learn her name, but... She was definitely the nurse that had taken care of his mother when she'd been locked up in here. She'd told him to forgive his mother. To just forget the years of suffering she had put him through, when she'd refused medication, screamed at him that he was the Devil's child, cut him to drive the demon out. The nurse had claimed it wasn't his mother's fault. She hadn't cared about his feelings.
Kian hated her. Despised her. But when he'd finally recovered from the shock, she was already gone.
Kian shot to his feet, turning his back on Jack. He marched over to his bed and pulled on his shoes, fury lining his every moment.
"Fuck!" he shouted suddenly, slamming his fist into the wall. He pulled back with a hiss. The walls here weren't cardboard like his house, but brick. He muttered a string of curses and, nursing his injured hand, grabbed the towel from the floor. "Go on," he told Jack, gesturing at the door. "I'll be with you in a moment."
"Yeah, I'm not either," Kian muttered, though his stomach was gnawing at him. It always was. Unsurprisingly, they had diagnosed him with an eating disorder when he'd first arrived, proclaiming their diagnosis as if they had somehow enlightened him by saying it. When in truth, anyone who took one look at his emancipated body could tell him the same. Kian didn't plan on changing that any time soon. Besides, he knew how to make his parents and friends believe he was eating when there were just a couple of them present. Doing the same in a room full of patients should be easy.He finished wrapping his bloody hand with a strip he'd torn off the towel, and turned to face Jack. "Come on. We need to go." Kian sighed and shook his head, already heading for the door. "I don't fancy being dragged down there."
He'd witnessed it before, too. Not on his mother, but on a man when he'd been visiting here. He didn't know where they were dragging him to... But the man had been screaming, begging, resisting with every ounce of his power. It hadn't been a pretty sight.
((ah, sorry for the short reply, I wasn't sure what else to write.))
Kian slowed down to match Jack's pace. The shirt he was wearing had a hood, and he quickly pulled it up, adjusting it until ti cast shadows across his face. He felt too exposed without it, felt like everybody was watching him. His eyes were darting all around, constantly on the lookout for danger.Some of the patients around him looked haunted, the look in their eyes proof of the horrors they'd witnessed. Some looked even skinnier than himself and Jack. Others were downright crazy. Muttering and giggling and making weird, jerky gestures with their hands. There was even a woman banging her head against the wall and singing, until a nurse that seemed to appear out of nowhere grabbed her and started leading her away.
Kian shuddered. He didn't like these people, or the sterile white walls, or the countless nurses and doctors. He didn't want to be here.
Even if Kian did not know anything about Jack aside from his name, he was the only familiar person in here. Without even realizing it, Kian moved closer to him.
"I don't know where the cafeteria is," he admitted, wrapping his arms around himself, "so lead the way."
((pizza with goldfish?? Wut? That's a thing?)There were so many people in here. It was so loud, everyone shouting over one another, the clacking of trays being set down, plastic forks being broken... Kian hated it.
Kian grabbed the nearest tray, glancing at it just long enough to confirm it had plenty of water on it, and made sure he had a handful of napkins.
He followed Jack to one of the corners of the room, sitting down at a small table with his back to the wall. This way, no one could sneak up on him.
He took several long gulps of the water and spread the napkin between his legs. He looked at him tray then, noticing that it was filled with fries and chicken nuggets. He felt sick just thinking about all those calories inside his stomach.
"So who should I avoid here?" he asked, just to make conversation. "Like, who of the crazies, the nurses and doctors?"
Every so often, he would inconspicuously drop a nugget or a fry onto the napkin, shifting his body so the nurses prowling the room couldn't see. His parents hadn't cared that he was ill, that this ilness was potentially fatal. But it gave them yet another reason to yell at him, so Kian had gotten creative with making them believe he was eating. They hadn't even noticed he was losing weight - or if they had, they hadn't cared.
((Woah.. but like.. actual goldfish??? Or the crackers? Please say the crackers))The napkin was getting full. Kian crumpled it up, making sure that no food would fall out, and stuck it inside his pocket. He placed another napkin between his legs and again began the process of filling it up with food.
The water cup was too small for his taste, and it wasn't long before he drained it. He wished for more, but had no intention of walking across the cafeteria again.
"I'll keep that in mind," Kian replied with a nod. "Which patients are the most aggressive?" he questioned. He was already itching for a fight. He needed to know which patients would throw a fist when provoked. This place...
Kian had always been the one to start fights over nothing. And in here... He didn't know if he could get even though his first day without feeling a fist split his lip. He needed the pain. He needed to hurt someone, and be hurt in return.
((ohhh thank the lord))Finally the plate was empty, and Kian crumpled up the second napkin, pushing it in his pocket. He glanced at the other boy's untouched food and heaved a sigh.
"You need to eat," he said quietly, but then shook his head. He knew he had no right to say that to the boy, not when he himself wasn't eating.
When he heard Jack's question, Kian shrugged and cast his gaze downward. "To know which ones to avoid at all costs," he lied, though he wasn't sure why. Maybe as to not scare Jack even more. Hell if he knew.
((Ugh pressed send too soon.))"C'mon," Kian muttered, standing up. "I think we should get out of here. That man," he said, jerking his chin at the burly man Jack had pointed out earlier, "is shooting daggers at you." He maneuvered around the table, placing himself between Jack and the glaring patient, then glared right back at him. "I would suggest leaving your tray here and just getting out as fast as you can." Kian tore his eyes away from the man to smirk down at Jack. "I'll keep him busy."
Kian was at war with himself. On one hand, he felt this strange need to protect the tall, awkward boy. On the other, he was simply itching for a fight. He mulled over his two options as he walked the boy to the exit of the cafeteria, but stopped there. In the end, the need for fighting that had been his constant companion for ages won over the need to protect the boy. He had only known for him for a couple of hours, after all.
He shook his head, though with more reluctance than he would have liked. "I need to take care of something," was all he said before pushing Jack into the hallway.
He spun on his heels and threw a wicked smirk at the man that was still staring at them, sitting just a few feet away. "What's wrong, fatty?" he crooned, beckoning the man closer with his finger. "See something you like?"
With an angry shout, the giant of the man launched himself at Kian.
For all his weight and height, the man was slow. Kian ducked under his first punch with ease, but the second caught him in the stomach. He wheezed and staggered back. Damn, the man punched with the force of a small truck. But the pain... It left him feeling elated.
Kian grinned and jumped at the man, his fists so fast the man could not block them. But he took the punches and shrugged them off, before slamming his fist right into Kian's face. The boy moved to the side, only enough to avoid a broken nose, but the punch still landed on his jaw and sent him slamming into the wall behind him.
Kian groaned, his vision swimming. He could feel blood pooling in his mouth, and see the man preparing for another punch. But before he could do so, three nurses were upon him, grabbing his arms with what seemed like no regard for their own lives. They began whispering something in the man's ear, and slowly, the rage drained out of him. And then the nurses rounded on Kian.
"Get to your room!" one of them hissed. Apparently, they didn't care about his injuries. Good. Kian would have rather jumped out of a window than let them tend to him.
"Damn, you sound like my dad," he croaked, blood dripping steadily down his chin.
((I love my aggressive little baby ;-;))
The nurses - all three of them - glared at Kian and he huffed a dark laugh."And here I thought that you were supposed to look after your patients."
Before the nurses could react, Kian shoved himself away from the wall and wiped the blood from his chin with the back of his hand. His lower lip throbbed, but he welcomed the pain. Let it ground him.
He pushed past the nurses and other patients roughly, shoving aside those that had gathered by the door, and yanked it open. He pulled on his hood that had fallen off during the scuffle, and was all but ready to stomp back to his room, when he noticed someone cowering by the wall. Jack.
Kian approached him and slowly reached out, gently grasping the boy's wrists. He pulled him to his feet and arched his brows. He could imagine he didn't look too appealing with the blossoming bruise on his cheek and the blood smeared across his mouth and chin. "You idiot, don't tell me you watched that," Kian said, though his voice was far from unkind. He dropped his hands back to his sides. "Come on. Let's get back to our room, yeah?"
Kian hunched his shoulders and picked up his pace. Whenever someone stood in his path, all he had to do was glare at them, and as soon as they noticed the blood on his face - he supposed he did look like he'd just eaten someone - they would scramble to get away. It left him feeling all warm and fuzzy."I wanted to fight. That guy looked like the perfect choice," was all he said, his lip throbbing with every word.
He never would've imagine that he would have been relieved to see his room. But all he wanted now was to get away from all these people.
He shouldered his way inside and stomped over to his bed, throwing himself on top of it without bothering to take off his shoes or care for his split lip.
((ah I'm really sorry, I've been dealing with some stuff and couldn't write a proper reply... I promise I'll get back to you as soon as I can))
I'm really sorry, but I kinda lost interest in this story...
Well damn, I already found someone else for that story, sorry...
Do you prefer to make characters first or just jump straight into the story?