dorian, maietta, SACRIFICE - Temperless

[Dorian Maietta]

Name: Dorian Maietta
Age: 16
DoB: December 19th
Gender: male
Grade: 10th / sophomore

Hair: an ‘organized mess’ is the most accurate way to describe Dorian’s mess of soft, black curls. he lets it fall however it seems most inclined to that day, most of the time, but that’s not to say that he doesn’t tie it up every now and then. falling just past his mid-back, he’s happy with it, so long as it looks good.
Ears: kitten soft and just as dark as his hair, they compliment his fluffy, persian-esque tail quite nicely.
Eye Color: a deep shade of hazel
Skin Tone: just dark enough to show that he’s not a shut in, but not exactly what you would consider being tan, either.
Height: 5’7”
Weight: 130lbs

Description: long haired and short in stature, it’s not uncommon for him to be mistaken for a member of the opposite sex, from behind. Quick to correct this mistake when it’s made, he still has no problem putting his hair up in styles usually considered feminine. wearing whatever’s comfortable, his tastes seem to vary from day to day. ranging from neutral colors, to eye-catchingly bright outfits, he’ll wear almost anything, so long as it suits his fickle mood. no matter what he’s wearing, it’s always joined by his rimless, oval shaped glasses. there’s always just enough of his hair in his face to throw off his depth perception, contributing to the willowy boy’s lack of coordination. paired with the distant gaze in his hazel eyes, he gives off the appearance of an absolute space case.

Likes:

• spicy candies
  
• skeletal anatomy
  
• birds
  
• control
  
• ink stains
  
• sour juices
  
• crowded places
  
• anonymity
  
• plush toys
  

Dislikes:

• purple fruit
  
• large dogs
  
• sunglasses
  
• bare dirt
  
• cold weather
  
• rubber bands
  
• grasshoppers
  
• people who over annunciate their words
  

Personality: even tempered and always colored with a lazy smile, Dorian is an awful, two faced liar. he likes to spin pretty sounding words to get what he wants, and has no problem spreading made up rumors. assuming that it benefits him in some way, of course. both with things and people he likes, he’s incredibly possessive. while usually giving of the vibe of being a pretty easy-going young man, he’s really a short tempered brat. greedy, foul mouthed, and one hell of a liar, his reactions are usually the opposite of what they should be. If he’s upset, he’ll laugh to hide it, he smiles when he’s angry, and screams when he’s happy. ‘eccentric’ isn’t quite the right word, but it comes closer than most other things would. upsetting other people amuses him to no end, but he usually can’t handle receiving the same sort of treatment. though he’ll deny it to no end, Dorian is quite easily swayed by flattery, and fairly easy to manipulate when just the right words are used. as it stands, he’s somewhat of a ‘subtly-volatile’ addict, almost always under the influence of one thing or another. he sees no fault in it, and simply laughs when reprimanded.

History: There was no upside or downside to being the bastard child. He’d never missed the father he’d never known, and had never received any extra positive or negative treatment because of it. His mother couldn’t stand the sight of him, but he lived with his aunt, not his mother. So even that was insignificant. Even when he was very young, he’d never given the idea of his parents much thought. The childhood he’d lived out with his aunt had been average in every way, shape, and form. Far away from the clawing hands of his whore of a mother.

The woman trusted him completely, under the assumption that he was indeed a ‘good boy’. And he was, wasn’t he? So long as he still had his ears on his head, he was still a good boy. He could do whatever he wanted, so long as they were still there. Right?

This was the attitude that helped mold the rotten, spoiled temperament he had, when he first came to the academy. By the time he’d gotten there, he’d already become a disgusting liar of an addict. It was something of a surprise that he still had yet to be stripped of his ears. Even more of a surprise that his aunt still remained oblivious to his behavior. Of course, he always had been on his best behavior, whenever he felt eyes on him.

As he is now, he’s… “social”, to an extent. An absolute monster of a child, but social, nonetheless. Unlike most of the other people he spent his time around, Dorian had never felt any real desire to seek out his ‘other half’. Even if he were to find them, if he didn’t like them… Well, what was the point? This child was completely ready to reject his ‘companion’, should they fail to meet his expectations.

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OOC Name: philistine
Years of RPing Experience: just about nine or ten
Other Characters: none, yet

Roleplaying Example:
another character, from another place.

There was never any doubt that this woman adored her work. Part of it, at least. The subjects, biology and anatomy both, were her first and truest loves. The students, on the other hand… She hated them. Just as she hated each and every one of her ‘children’, and her ‘coworkers’. They were all stupid, useless things… It was absolutely disgusting. The entire organization was laughable, really. She may have shared their ideals, but their methods tore at her patience. Had it not been for the fact that she was allowed to carry on with her ‘research’, the poor woman may have gone mad. Yes, that little part made it all worth it. So who could blame her for being so immersed in her work all the time? Aside from her precious ‘cat’, it was one of the few things she could draw genuine glee from. There was only one downside, really. Small as it was, even.

The mess.

No matter how careful she would try to be, it would only last for the first few minutes. And then she would forget herself. Things would slip out of place, puddles would collect on the snow-white tiles… And in the middle of it would be her, grinning like an excited child, in all of her bright eyed wonder. Even when the ‘project’ failed, as it did now, and had done countless times before. Even now, she was circling the metal table, prodding and pulling at the newly opened skin of something that had been so very alive, just a few minutes before. Failure or not, they were better like this. Quieter, to be certain. But now, there were clamps set here and there, holding the skin that had been peeled away from the child’s chest with such care in place. Its heart was missing, having been one of the first things to be removed, and was sitting alone in a try off to the side. The small electric sources and tangle of wires suggested that it had been played with, at least for a moment. She’d amused herself with watching it twitch and flutter like a broken butterfly, desperate for life that was no longer there.

[Avery Newfeld]

ACCEPTED!

Welcome to The Academy.
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