Post by AZRAEL DEAN MORRIS on Sept 26, 2009 19:39:01 GMT
AZRAEL DEAN MORRIS
it's not like I need somebody
TELLING ME WHERE I SHOULD GO AT NIGHT
[/left][/blockquote]it's not like I need somebody
TELLING ME WHERE I SHOULD GO AT NIGHT
FULL NAME: azrael dean morris
NICKNAME: az, azzy
AGE: sixteen
YEAR: second
ACCOMODATION: cells
BIRTHDATE: 02/04
GENDER: male
ORIENTATION: homosexual
STATUS: single
CANON/ORIGINAL: original
don't worry you'll find somebody
SOMEONE TO TELL HOW TO LIVE THEIR LIFE
LIKES:
activity
positive emotions
physical strength
strange beauty
playing pranks
making friends
animals
clayton's wings
'flitting' - his main disorder
building his manipulation skills
DISLIKES:
nosebleeds
weakeness
sickness
blackouts
radiation
the staff
bellafields
the tests
his ward(increased radiation keeps him feeling like crap)
angry feelings
STRENGTHS:
moves really fast
can sense strong emotions
has telekinetic abilities
can befriend most people
WEAKNESSES:
gets crippling aftersickness
can't handle strong radiation
telekinetic abilities far from mastered
reacts badly to negative emotions
FEARS:
that the constant radiation is killing him
that he'll never see his family again
GOALS:
to somehow escape bellafields
to master his abilities
SECRETS:
is pretty scared about being here though he wont admit it
is unsettled by how he feels around clayton
DISORDER:
MOVEMENT MANIPULATION
he has the ability to manipulate both his own movement and the movement of things around him on both a physical and mental level - this includes his superspeed and his ability to move objects in thin air through telekinesis. he does both by picking up on movements in the air and increasing them with his mental abilities, much like pushing on a metronome so that it ticks faster, but on a massive scale. he can 'flit' (move from one place to another in the blink of an eye) though, like all of his abilities this drains him.
EMPATHY
he is acutely aware of other people's emotions, the stronger ones sometimes even taking presidence over his own emotions. this can cause him to do irrational things, things he can't control. it can be hard to hide emotions from him, though he does try to respect privacy when he can - if someone is feeling really sad, he'll just go into another room and cry it out until he can cope with the weird feelings washing over him. he could be smiling and crying at the same time - sometimes it's like having a weird feeling of bipolar that really has nothing to do with yourself.
PERSONALITY:
AZRAEL is a prankster, he loves using his abilities to play jokes on people. he literally can't resist a situation to make a fool out of people, though he's only ever outright cruel to the staff members who treat him badly. usually, he's hyperactive, manic and energetic, unable to keep still for two minutes even when he isn't using his superspeed. he pushes himself too hard with his abilities, eager to impress people and show off a little bit. he's an extrovert and loves to be the center of attention no matter the situation; he just can't stop making people notice him. he makes friends easily, usually by his cheerful outlook and chirpy tone.
HE is a real sweetheart at heart, underneath all the jokes and pranks. he loves to cuddle up to people and lives to feel their emotions, positive ones at least. he is highly influenced by other people's emotions - if they are strong enough they can cause him to lose himself in them, confusing his mind until some kind of tension breaker is achieved.he loves to be around positive people, since they keep him feeling happy - he lives by the rule 'make others happy to feel happy' because of this.
ON the other end of the scale, he is also influenced by negative emotions, and will do strange things when people are angry around him. if someone is so angry they want to throw something, he will throw something, even if the argument has nothing to do with him. he's aware how odd it looks, he just can't help himself. other 'side effects' include screaming in fear or frustration, flitting frantically with worry and bursting into tears when someone has had horrible news. it makes him a bit unpredictable and some people can't deal with it. he can still talk normally even when he's bawling his eyes out, usually in total confusion and a bit of frustration at not being the master of his own emotions.
'cause you're so perfect
AND NO ONE MEASURES UP
PB: joshua estrella
HEIGHT: 5ft10
WEIGHT: 130lbs
HAIR:
brown, styled long at the front in a long fringe to the left; it is short and spiky at the back and usually straightened at the front.
EYES: blue, bright
BODY TYPE:
athletic build, not overly muscular but very toned. he's peppered with scars from the tests and has recently developed lots of little puncture holes from where they taser him with radioactive material to slow him down.
MUTATION:
looks perfectly normal externally, would pass for an ordinary human. medically though, an mri would show increased brain mass and electrical currents.
STYLE:
azzy dresses casually in jeans and hoodies, though it's in a way which suits his body style. he seems to pull off a kind of casual chic, always looking relaxed but very rarely scruffy. he looks fairly ordinary and he likes it that way.
yeah all by yourself
YOU'RE ALL MESSED UP
MOTHER: marissa morris - 37 - nurse - london, england.
FATHER: james morris - 42 - hotel porter - london, england.
SIBLINGS: celina morris - 4 - child - london, england
samael morris - 18 - mechanic - london, england.
sasia morris - 19 - student - london, england.
OTHER RELEVANT FAMILY: na
HISTORY:
AZRAEL was born in london, england to a middle class family with nothing particularly special about them. he had an ordinary childhood, slightly bullied by his sister for being so obviously gay. even when he was about five years old he was slightly effeminate, even being caught wearing his mother's makeup once or twice. he never lived that down. he's not transgendered, just a bit feminine. despite it all, he was a bubbly and friendly child, strangely aware of other people's emotions from an early age. he started to mutate slightly on his own from the age of 11, running far faster than any other child in his class, noticeably enough so that his local newspaper began to comment on him, calling him the wonder child, the next olympic runner for london; he was flattered but a bit too young to understand what was going on. he developed a sense of pride early in life, and loved to show off to people, craved the attention they bestowed on him when he did something amazing.
IT was just that which got azrael caught; his pride. he began to push himself harder and harder until his speed was just abnormal, though his flitting didn't start happening til after his arrival here. azrael pushed and pushed, driving himself to a strange level of exhaustion. he began to have such chronic nosebleeds that his mother, who was a nurse, began to grow worried about him and took him to the doctor. they were baffled and had no idea what was happening to him, doing test after test on him and getting nowhere. meanwhile, he kept pushing, realising he had empathic feelings and trying to work on those too, pushing himself so hard he began to pass out so frequently he was placed into a medically induced coma for three weeks when he was 14 for 6 weeks while they did in depth tests, even performing surgery to look at his brain directly. all they could see was a slightly enlarged brain mass, no signs of tumors and highly increased electrical activity, though he displayed average intelligence. his motion center in his brain was particularly 'swollen', as was his emotional center. they were utterly baffled.
JUST before he was 15, he was back home, watching his younger sister, on forced rest to test the link between his running and his nosebleeds. his then two year old sister in her playpen watching the tv, blissfully unaware as she drifted off that her brother wouldn't be there when she woke up. there was a knock at the door and a man who had a doctors card got himself invited in, telling azrael he had the solution to his problem. unfortunately, that involved a needle being stuck in his neck the moment the door was closed. he had no idea what happened after that, though it had turned out to be some elaborately hoaxed thing. an ambulance pulled up outside his house and he was bundled in quickly, his neighbor was called through to watch his sister and there was a 'doctor' put on hold at the hospital, ready to greet his parents when they showed up, frantic. they were informed that their son had recovered and had simply walked out of the building, something they couldn't stop him from doing. he was placed on the missing persons list, like so many other children his age.
THE next thing he knew, he was waking up in a ward some two weeks later, having been again put into a medically induced coma after he'd had a horrible reaction to the radiation which pulsed through the building. he'd been sick, convulsed and had such a bad nosebleed they were sure he had been going to die. somehow, they stabilised him, giving him tiny injections of very low radiation to build up his resistance. he still has serious problems when in direct contact with radiation, such as the tasers they made to stop him from flitting. his powers progressed quickly, allowing him to read into people, picking up stray thoughts, and his speed increasing. the same way that he picks up stray thoughts, he can use his combined mental and physical abilities together to acheive a kind of rudimentary, weak and unstable telekinesis over short distances. he spent his first year at bellafields flitting faster than anyone could blink, so no one could catch him. it wasn't until this year that they figured out radiation was to him like kryptonite was to superman and learned to subdue him, so this is his first year of full testing.
i was losing myself
TO SOMEBODY ELSE
OOC NAME: kirstie.
AGE: twenty
AREA: scotland
CODEWORD: -edited-
RP SAMPLE:
this school was proverbially - no, genuinely fucked. up. okay, so what could you really expect from a prison school? for ki, though, it was basically like hell on earth. because of his 'special circumstances' in growing up, he had never attended a genuine school before; his lessons limited to tutors in the few hours he was coherent enough to absorb anything other than a drug on the tongue. he was intelligent nonetheless, having managed to pick up several languages during that time. unfortunately, he sucked at real life. so much so, that when he had first arrived here, he had been totally baffled about how to turn the shower on or how to change his bedsheets. normally too off his face, his father had hired illegal immigrants as servants - though they were really slaves - to take care of his son, who was nothing more than his guinea pig for the drugs of his trade and had been since he was three years old. it was those servants who had put him in the shower fully clothed when he tripped out, stripped him into clean clothes and even tucked him up in bed at 15 years old when he passed out in a heap, face first on the mattress. the memories didn't bother kieran, mainly because he refused to accept them; most of his life was a series of sketchy flashes, blurred faces and disembodied voices anyway. it wasn't until he'd been clean for several months that they sat him down and played him a series of videos that one of the maids had taken of him when he was off his face that he realised that this was not normal, as he had always assumed. he had watched his own face on the screen, flushed cheeks pinching alternately in smiles and grimaces, his eyes fluttering closed as he fought to stay conscious, incoherent words stumbling from his mouth before finally flopping back on the bed unconscious, the camera being dropped and the screen going black - so did his mind. his eyes had continued to stare at the screen, he had smiled politely at the people before announcing to them that yes, he was fine and that no, he was not insane - that killing his father in a brutal rage of coherent sobriety had been deliberate, his mother just the icing on the cake as her hair crackled and her skin turned soot black as his fathers black blood dripped through the hole in the mattress, rolling down the display sword which had left a scratch on the wooden floor, buried to the hilt in his father's chest. smile now, daddy. he had smiled for him, he had pleaded guilty in court, then allowed himself time to process his life. one thing had come through clearly - resentment.
he snapped, coldly apathetic to the plights of others - at first out of self-pity, then later out of indifference for people he would never trust either. he wouldn't let them touch him, memories of hands grabbing at his arms to thrust needles in too much to stand; the experience of being grabbed by someone he didn't trust caused an instinctive lash of his fist across their face, like a toffee hammer to the reflex point on the knee. sometimes, he apologised, though he was rarely sorry. the thing he liked about being so fucking distant was that no one could tell one emotion from another, the truth from a lie. don't get me wrong, ki cared about people he trusted, but if he didn't trust you then you might as well be a nobody. to those people, he was rude, arrogant, bitchy and even cruel. emotion fascinated him deeply, since he was mostly devoid of it. he had studied the reactions of people around him and could tell when they were sad at a blink. the only emotions he really had trouble distinguishing from one another were anger and hurt, since they showed the same characteristic grimace on the 'victim's face; downcast eyes, fists clenched, jaw set hard; either attempting not to cry or trying their best not to go and kill the fucker. it was interesting, and ki liked to watch.
the last few months had been fairly difficult for him, adjusting to his new environment only to be raped by lyss and confused by it, his apathy distorting his emotions - he had felt something towards lyss, but again it was the distinction between hurt and anger, and he had made the wrong choice, convincing himself he had feelings for the evil only to have them shot down cruelly as lyss went after another guy. his walls had fallen over as soon as he had realised and he had become pathetic for a good few days, drinking and passing out in hallways for nearly a week before he was forced to sober up and face his emotions - clamming up yet again, his walls rebuilding. it was good, so good to be able to breathe in his iron vice of protection. he had kept everyone at arms length for a good while after that, getting drunk out of boredom and bitching at people, hitting anyone who dared to touch him.like i said, it wasn't his fault, simply a reflex he could sort of brace against if he knew it was coming. anyway. he had been drinking in the kitchen, rather wasted, when one of the staffmembers had wandered in, injected him with something, a feeling which caused him to freak out on its own, due to the memories. he blacked out, thankfully, or so he had thought, only to wake up tied spread eagled across a table where he was raped yet again. that time, though, there had been no pathetic whimpering, feelings of confliction. he knew what was going on, and he screamed bloody murder, threatening lucifer's life, telling him he would be dead as soon as he got free. of course, that didn't work as he was sedated and dumped in his bedroom and decided when he woke up that he didn't care. somewhere, he supposed he did, but being emotionless about it let him think through his plans to kill the staffmember more thoroughly. he hadn't come up with anything foolproof yet, and he wasn't stupid, most certainly not, so he wouldn't make a move til he had a plan which couldn't come back and bite him in the ass.
the only person who could still rouse any amount of anger in him was lyss. he still wanted to wipe the smug look off of his face and intended to do so - he had been pissed when he had gotten over him fucking zeke. how irritating. oh yeah, about that. that night had come as a bit of a shock to ki too, letting not one, but two guys touch him. granted, he was knackered and mildly tipsy, enough so that it didn't make his skin crawl when zeke touched him - of course that may have been partially to the fact that zeke's 'touch' had been his mouth against ki's crotch. kind of hard to resist - then when dae had pressed up behind him, he'd simply gone with it, leaning back into him and getting involved into a night which he could now confidently state that he was in no way a virgin because of. ki liked dae. not like, loved, or anything. ki didn't do those emotions. he liked him because dae didn't want attachments with him, he had been patient with him and, to be frank, he was a decent fuck. not that ki had much to compare with. so far, though, dae was his only friend round here unless you counted bethany, and to be frank, she was a bit of a crazy bitch and, though he liked her, he was constantly looking in the mirror to see if there was a knife in his back. dae was just sex and maybe a drink or two and he didn't expect more than that, he didn't get bitchy when ki walked right past him in the hall without looking at him - which wasn't often, but he was careful not to look at dae for too long, conscious that brennan might be looking. he didn't want to jeapordise their arrangement.
that day, ki was dressed casually in a black tshirt and black jeans, his hair spiked up and eyeliner deliberately smudged beneath his eyes. he looked like a goth, kinda. he didn't care. he liked how he looked; he was even mildly...ok, a lot, vain about it. especially his hair - unless he was getting a good dose of sex hair, he hated it getting messed up. yawning, ki moved down the corridor, boredly kicking about in an attempt to find something interesting to do he spotted a door open a crack, the light from the hallway filtering in to show the barest outline of a huddled form. he moved over and pushed the door open, realising immediately who it was.
"dae...?" he asked questioningly, and yes, there was actually a hint of fucking concern in his voice, because his friend looked lost in that kind of way he'd been before the feeling had went away and he didn't want anyone to go through that, ever - he knew that not everyone's body was kind enough to make it stop and never come back..he hoped. he was about to add more when he felt dae crash into him at a speed which made him convinced that he shouldn't have blinked, lips merging against his heated, desperately, demandingly. he heard the words that dae said and looked at him exploringly, those tears, damn tears, damn emotion in his eyes - if his brain wouldn't switch it off, ki would try to take it away for a while, even if he didn't know exactly what was going on. he didn't respond verbally, instead pushing dae back towards one of the benches used for lifting weights, pulling his shirt off and planting hot little kisses across his neck, hands on the other boy's hips as he forced him to sit down on the bench, leaning down with him and kissing him again, hard.
"okay."
he snapped, coldly apathetic to the plights of others - at first out of self-pity, then later out of indifference for people he would never trust either. he wouldn't let them touch him, memories of hands grabbing at his arms to thrust needles in too much to stand; the experience of being grabbed by someone he didn't trust caused an instinctive lash of his fist across their face, like a toffee hammer to the reflex point on the knee. sometimes, he apologised, though he was rarely sorry. the thing he liked about being so fucking distant was that no one could tell one emotion from another, the truth from a lie. don't get me wrong, ki cared about people he trusted, but if he didn't trust you then you might as well be a nobody. to those people, he was rude, arrogant, bitchy and even cruel. emotion fascinated him deeply, since he was mostly devoid of it. he had studied the reactions of people around him and could tell when they were sad at a blink. the only emotions he really had trouble distinguishing from one another were anger and hurt, since they showed the same characteristic grimace on the 'victim's face; downcast eyes, fists clenched, jaw set hard; either attempting not to cry or trying their best not to go and kill the fucker. it was interesting, and ki liked to watch.
the last few months had been fairly difficult for him, adjusting to his new environment only to be raped by lyss and confused by it, his apathy distorting his emotions - he had felt something towards lyss, but again it was the distinction between hurt and anger, and he had made the wrong choice, convincing himself he had feelings for the evil only to have them shot down cruelly as lyss went after another guy. his walls had fallen over as soon as he had realised and he had become pathetic for a good few days, drinking and passing out in hallways for nearly a week before he was forced to sober up and face his emotions - clamming up yet again, his walls rebuilding. it was good, so good to be able to breathe in his iron vice of protection. he had kept everyone at arms length for a good while after that, getting drunk out of boredom and bitching at people, hitting anyone who dared to touch him.like i said, it wasn't his fault, simply a reflex he could sort of brace against if he knew it was coming. anyway. he had been drinking in the kitchen, rather wasted, when one of the staffmembers had wandered in, injected him with something, a feeling which caused him to freak out on its own, due to the memories. he blacked out, thankfully, or so he had thought, only to wake up tied spread eagled across a table where he was raped yet again. that time, though, there had been no pathetic whimpering, feelings of confliction. he knew what was going on, and he screamed bloody murder, threatening lucifer's life, telling him he would be dead as soon as he got free. of course, that didn't work as he was sedated and dumped in his bedroom and decided when he woke up that he didn't care. somewhere, he supposed he did, but being emotionless about it let him think through his plans to kill the staffmember more thoroughly. he hadn't come up with anything foolproof yet, and he wasn't stupid, most certainly not, so he wouldn't make a move til he had a plan which couldn't come back and bite him in the ass.
the only person who could still rouse any amount of anger in him was lyss. he still wanted to wipe the smug look off of his face and intended to do so - he had been pissed when he had gotten over him fucking zeke. how irritating. oh yeah, about that. that night had come as a bit of a shock to ki too, letting not one, but two guys touch him. granted, he was knackered and mildly tipsy, enough so that it didn't make his skin crawl when zeke touched him - of course that may have been partially to the fact that zeke's 'touch' had been his mouth against ki's crotch. kind of hard to resist - then when dae had pressed up behind him, he'd simply gone with it, leaning back into him and getting involved into a night which he could now confidently state that he was in no way a virgin because of. ki liked dae. not like, loved, or anything. ki didn't do those emotions. he liked him because dae didn't want attachments with him, he had been patient with him and, to be frank, he was a decent fuck. not that ki had much to compare with. so far, though, dae was his only friend round here unless you counted bethany, and to be frank, she was a bit of a crazy bitch and, though he liked her, he was constantly looking in the mirror to see if there was a knife in his back. dae was just sex and maybe a drink or two and he didn't expect more than that, he didn't get bitchy when ki walked right past him in the hall without looking at him - which wasn't often, but he was careful not to look at dae for too long, conscious that brennan might be looking. he didn't want to jeapordise their arrangement.
that day, ki was dressed casually in a black tshirt and black jeans, his hair spiked up and eyeliner deliberately smudged beneath his eyes. he looked like a goth, kinda. he didn't care. he liked how he looked; he was even mildly...ok, a lot, vain about it. especially his hair - unless he was getting a good dose of sex hair, he hated it getting messed up. yawning, ki moved down the corridor, boredly kicking about in an attempt to find something interesting to do he spotted a door open a crack, the light from the hallway filtering in to show the barest outline of a huddled form. he moved over and pushed the door open, realising immediately who it was.
"dae...?" he asked questioningly, and yes, there was actually a hint of fucking concern in his voice, because his friend looked lost in that kind of way he'd been before the feeling had went away and he didn't want anyone to go through that, ever - he knew that not everyone's body was kind enough to make it stop and never come back..he hoped. he was about to add more when he felt dae crash into him at a speed which made him convinced that he shouldn't have blinked, lips merging against his heated, desperately, demandingly. he heard the words that dae said and looked at him exploringly, those tears, damn tears, damn emotion in his eyes - if his brain wouldn't switch it off, ki would try to take it away for a while, even if he didn't know exactly what was going on. he didn't respond verbally, instead pushing dae back towards one of the benches used for lifting weights, pulling his shirt off and planting hot little kisses across his neck, hands on the other boy's hips as he forced him to sit down on the bench, leaning down with him and kissing him again, hard.
"okay."
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