Post by PHOENIX CAMEN BRANTE on Oct 27, 2009 19:12:46 GMT
PHOENIX CAMEN BRANTE
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: Phoenix Camen Brante
NICKNAME: Phoenix / Nix
AGE: 17
YEAR: 3rd
ACCOMMODATION: Ward 2
BIRTHDATE: September 21st
GENDER: Male
ORIENTATION: Bisexual
STATUS: Single
CANON/ORIGINAL: Original
don't worry you'll find somebody
SOMEONE TO TELL HOW TO LIVE THEIR LIFE
LIKES: Chocolate, music, reading, swimming, movies, close friends, having someone to talk to, laughter, love and happiness.
DISLIKES: Being disappointed, disloyalty, parsnips, bad smells, arguments, awkward silences, feeling unwelcome, lies, being too hot and feeling scared.
STRENGTHS: A firm friend, able to laugh at himself, fit and active and trustworthy.
WEAKNESSES: A pretty face, chocolate, feeling too emotional and self discipline.
FEARS: Spiders and being alone.
GOALS: To achieve a sense of pride in himself for having done something beneficial to his life, and to have complete control over himself.
SECRETS: He really enjoys cooking and was planning on becoming a renowned doctor before arriving here.
DISORDER: Arachnophobia and dependant personality.
PERSONALITY: Talkative, flirtatious, kinky, loyal, easily bored, sporty, occasionally clingy, emotional, easily addicted, easily led on/won over, bit naive, gullible, friendly, notexactlystraight, protective.
'cause you're so perfect
AND NO ONE MEASURES UP
PB: Quinn Allman.
HEIGHT: 6ft.
WEIGHT: 83lbs.
HAIR: Medium brown w/highlights.
EYES: Blue.
BODY TYPE: Tall with lean muscle.
MUTATION: Phoenix has control over air and has the ability to fly. He was moved onto Ward 2 before Phoenix realised that he can actually grow wings using the marrow from his bones. Sprouting the wings is a very painful process; therefore Phoenix does not use them very often. He also does not want to have the wings clipped, and so keeps them hidden away from the prying eyes of the guards and scientists.
The wings form by taking the marrow from his bones and appearing from his shoulder blades. It is painful, and Phoenix is still learning to try and control it; however doing so without the help of the scientists is proving to be something of a challenge, and he is beginning to wonder whether he should admit to having them at the risk of being placed back on Ward 1.
STYLE: Casual jeans and t-shirts. He likes hoodies and skate trainers.
yeah all by yourself
YOU'RE ALL MESSED UP
MOTHER: Larissa Brante – 43 – paediatrician at specialist children’s hospital – home.
FATHER: Damon Brante – 46 – pilot – home.
SIBLINGS: Taylor Brante – 21 – mechanic – home.
HISTORY: Phoenix was brought up in a wealthy family under the watchful eye of his overprotective mother and high-flying father. His father spent much time away from home due to work commitments, and his mother often worked odd shifts at the hospital, so Phoenix and his older brother Taylor would often be looked after by a nanny. However, due to their rather ‘adventurous’ behaviour, each nanny would only stay for a matter of weeks before she had to be replaced.
Phoenix and Taylor were incredibly close, and it pained them both to be separated when Phoenix was taken to Bella’s. The fact that they could not even stay in contact hurt them even more, and for many months after his arrival, Phoenix was inconsolable. He still misses Taylor dearly to this day, and often finds himself wondering what he’s up to.
When the letter arrived announcing Phoenix’s’ firm invitation to Bella’s, his mother was furious and tried to use her influence as an outstanding consultant to try and stop him from going. However, the scientists at Bella’s are exceedingly determined, and came to take Phoenix by force if necessary. That night is one Phoenix would much rather forget.
i was losing myself
TO SOMEBODY ELSE
OOC NAME: Tristan Dresden
AGE: 20
AREA: England
CODEWORD: prisms
RP SAMPLE:
Phoenix’s eyes kept flitting towards the door nervously as he hurriedly picked up the fallen feathers that were strewn all over his bed. His chair was placed haphazardly under the handle to try and prevent anyone from making an unexpected entrance, but he knew it wouldn’t hold for long.
He turned to pick up another bunch of white feathers, rainbow tinted in the early morning light, and the tip of his right wing knocked into his bedside lamp sending it crashing to the floor. Phoenix squeaked nervously and turned round again to pick it up. Wings really were useless in confined spaces.
“Nix?” came a call from the other side of the partition wall. “Everything ok in there mate?
“Fine, fine!” Phoenix replied quickly, checking his bulb hadn’t smashed.”Just umm....just tidying.”
“Dude, the sun’s barely up. What the hell you tidying?!”
“Nothing, nothing. Go back to sleep. Sorry.”
Panicking now, Phoenix forced himself to calm down, taking some deep breaths. Rushing around like this wouldn’t help matters at all. He closed his eyes, forcing cool air into his lungs and shaking himself down. Though of course this caused extra feathers to flutter down around him.
Sighing, he opened his eyes and tried to pull his wings in as close to his body as possible. He had to learn to control them better. Otherwise they’d pop out at some inconvenient time and he would have a hell of a lot of explaining to do.
These wings had started off seeming rather cool and intriguing. Except now they had started appearing at random, and Phoenix didn’t know how to control them. He had been lucky so far; they had only ever done this when he was on his own. But soon he knew his luck would run out. This morning for example; it was very early, and he’d been quite happily sleeping. Then this pain had erupted from the top of his spine, radiating across his shoulders. It was a pain that was becoming all too familiar.
The wings had burst out without anymore warning; blood and feathers spraying everywhere. Phoenix had stuffed his fist into his mouth to stop himself from crying out loud. He had tumbled out of bed and then the panicking had started.
Now however, he felt himself calming and becoming clear-headed. His wings had stopped the strange quivering they always seemed to do after being released, and he was able to quickly tidy the floor. The blood on the sheets...he’d explain away with some story of a really bad nosebleed and hoped they buy it.
He had shoved the majority of the feathers into his jeans pockets to be disposed of later. At the present time he was only wearing his boxers; he pulled on said jeans, but had to wait until the wings had disappeared to put a shirt on.
The bed was clean now; he pulled the duvet up and over the small blood splash stains on the sheets. Straightening the bedside lamp once more, he scanned the room to make sure he hadn’t missed anything.
A knock at his door made him jump. “Phoenix?” came the voice of one the ward scientists. “Phoenix? You ok in there?”
“Mmm?” Phoenix replied, trying his best to sound sleepy whilst at the same time trying to will his wings back into his body. They quivered, but made no other signs of shrinking.
“Phoenix? You awake?” The knock came again.
“Mmm...say whaaat?” Trying as hard as he could, he willed with everything he had. Which at 6 in the morning really wasn’t a lot.
“Can I come in?” The handle rattled slightly.
“No, nonono no.” The panic started to rise; Phoenix forced it down and instead tried to use it against the 2m wings protruding from his shoulders. They quivered again, and relief flooded through him as the pain started up to show they were shrinking back into his body.
“Is everything ok? Phoenix?” The handle rattled again and the chair held. “Phoenix, open this door!”
Collapsing to his knees as the last few inches of feather meted into his skin and the wounds healed with inhuman speed, Phoenix pushed the chair aside and let his door swing open. The pain was so intense he felt himself drifting away into numbness, the voice of the scientist that had come to see him fading as he let unconsciousness spill over him like a warm blanket.
He turned to pick up another bunch of white feathers, rainbow tinted in the early morning light, and the tip of his right wing knocked into his bedside lamp sending it crashing to the floor. Phoenix squeaked nervously and turned round again to pick it up. Wings really were useless in confined spaces.
“Nix?” came a call from the other side of the partition wall. “Everything ok in there mate?
“Fine, fine!” Phoenix replied quickly, checking his bulb hadn’t smashed.”Just umm....just tidying.”
“Dude, the sun’s barely up. What the hell you tidying?!”
“Nothing, nothing. Go back to sleep. Sorry.”
Panicking now, Phoenix forced himself to calm down, taking some deep breaths. Rushing around like this wouldn’t help matters at all. He closed his eyes, forcing cool air into his lungs and shaking himself down. Though of course this caused extra feathers to flutter down around him.
Sighing, he opened his eyes and tried to pull his wings in as close to his body as possible. He had to learn to control them better. Otherwise they’d pop out at some inconvenient time and he would have a hell of a lot of explaining to do.
These wings had started off seeming rather cool and intriguing. Except now they had started appearing at random, and Phoenix didn’t know how to control them. He had been lucky so far; they had only ever done this when he was on his own. But soon he knew his luck would run out. This morning for example; it was very early, and he’d been quite happily sleeping. Then this pain had erupted from the top of his spine, radiating across his shoulders. It was a pain that was becoming all too familiar.
The wings had burst out without anymore warning; blood and feathers spraying everywhere. Phoenix had stuffed his fist into his mouth to stop himself from crying out loud. He had tumbled out of bed and then the panicking had started.
Now however, he felt himself calming and becoming clear-headed. His wings had stopped the strange quivering they always seemed to do after being released, and he was able to quickly tidy the floor. The blood on the sheets...he’d explain away with some story of a really bad nosebleed and hoped they buy it.
He had shoved the majority of the feathers into his jeans pockets to be disposed of later. At the present time he was only wearing his boxers; he pulled on said jeans, but had to wait until the wings had disappeared to put a shirt on.
The bed was clean now; he pulled the duvet up and over the small blood splash stains on the sheets. Straightening the bedside lamp once more, he scanned the room to make sure he hadn’t missed anything.
A knock at his door made him jump. “Phoenix?” came the voice of one the ward scientists. “Phoenix? You ok in there?”
“Mmm?” Phoenix replied, trying his best to sound sleepy whilst at the same time trying to will his wings back into his body. They quivered, but made no other signs of shrinking.
“Phoenix? You awake?” The knock came again.
“Mmm...say whaaat?” Trying as hard as he could, he willed with everything he had. Which at 6 in the morning really wasn’t a lot.
“Can I come in?” The handle rattled slightly.
“No, nonono no.” The panic started to rise; Phoenix forced it down and instead tried to use it against the 2m wings protruding from his shoulders. They quivered again, and relief flooded through him as the pain started up to show they were shrinking back into his body.
“Is everything ok? Phoenix?” The handle rattled again and the chair held. “Phoenix, open this door!”
Collapsing to his knees as the last few inches of feather meted into his skin and the wounds healed with inhuman speed, Phoenix pushed the chair aside and let his door swing open. The pain was so intense he felt himself drifting away into numbness, the voice of the scientist that had come to see him fading as he let unconsciousness spill over him like a warm blanket.
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