Post by tokidoki on Feb 15, 2010 20:57:35 GMT -5
Casmir Santario Laurent
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&&--You, who shall pull the strings
[/size][/center]Name: Michie
Age: 15
Roleplaying Experience: 3 years
How you found the site: Affiliation
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&&--The character cheat sheet
[/size][/center]Name: Casmir Santario Laurent
Gender: Male
Age: 18 going 19
Hair Color: Brown with Black Highlights
Eye Color: Brown and Red
Skin Tone: Fair
Height: 6’ 3”
Weight:113 lbs
Wealth: Rich
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
Why they are in La Campana:
He came here on his own will, wishing that someone would understand him. Hoping that he’d find his special someone, and a place where he belongs. [/size]
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&&--What makes the clock tick
[/size][/center]Likes:
- Cake
- Food of all kinds
- Music
- Men & Women either one
- Pillows
- Soft Beds
- Children
- Movies
Dislikes:
- Yelling
- Screaming
- Crying
- Bloodshed
- Crying children
- Doctors
- Stitches
- Reminding of his place in the world
Turn Ons:
- Understanding
- Likes some of the things he does.
- Caring
- Down to Earth
Turn Offs:
- Extremley Loud
- Spiteful
- Holds Grudges
- Gold Digger
Nervous Habits:
- Looking down at his feet.
- Blinking quickly.
Fears:
- Being lonely forever.
- Being trapped by his family.
Goals/Aspirations:
- To be a father.
- To find his loved one.
- To break free of the fate that was bestowed on him.
Appearance:
At first glance, you do have to admit he does look very girly. Yet he is a very strong boy at the same time, with his chocolate brown hair. His chocolate brown hair does have some black strands in it, it is shaggy giving him a sort of rebellious look. Yet his eyes are different colors, nobody knows why but only he does, one eye is brown and the other is wine red. His skin is fair, a tan color yet marks from training are on his body. On his right arm is the roman numerals for thirteen for some reason, it was etched into his arm. Mostly because, he will be the 13th leader in his family, instead of his brother. His teeth are usually pearly white, his tongue always clean, since he is pressured to keep up with his hygiene. His finger nails also clean, his fingers are slender, like a girls, yet his fingernails are small.
Even though he looks female, he does have parts that are more like a male. He has muscles showing in his arms, and on his stomach. He doesn’t prefer to flaunt like other males, so he wears different types of clothing. His most usual is a black polo shirt, with a red 3 on his shoulder, and black short, that comes to his mid leg. Sandals are usually on his feet, until he starts getting cold then he starts wearing sneakers. His favorite jacket is black with white stars , the hood is usually on his head. To hide his eyes from view, since he is ashamed of his eye colors.
Personality:
At first glance, you would think he was a girly defenseless boy, who was gay. But sorry, that’s not the real him, if you look at him again. You would see a kind boy, who would put a smile on to brighten any mood. He stands on the neutral line, not one to take sides or point out peoples faults. He will be blunt though, and won’t hesitate in pointing out your faults if he has too. He hates taking sides, because it shows he’s against someone and for someone else. He tends to stay out of fights, not caring if someone provokes him. He chooses to ignore people, not one to get into a fight. If they punch him first, he was taught he had an obligation to knock them out.
He is a gentle person, always using the softest tone, and having the most innocent smiles. He can mask his emotions well, being taught this also. He was taught to ignore his obligations, and take everything in strides. Since he knows that he shall die anyway, he decided that he should not fear anything. To keep everything going as if he had all the time in the world. Even if he knows this is not the real thing. He is usually a daydreamer, looking up into the sky he dreams of a world, filled with peace. Despite his name, he is not a cold and thoughtless person, he is very thoughtful.
Always in deep thought, he stares off into nothingness, often silent. He listens to people more than he talks. Thinking younger people are cute, he loves children for some reason. HE always wished he had a sibling to look and care for him. He never did love the way his father taught him, thinking that even though you must be serous and blunt. You can also balance fun and happiness in that mix. Yet knowing the elderly man would never understand, he casted off this idea years ago. Only mixing himself with so many different things, even though he cannot see. He keeps this a secret, at times but will often let it slip out.
Even though people might insult him, he always keeps a smile. He will defend people, no matter how cruel or mean they are to him. He is not a selfish person, often self-reliant, he is an independent boy. He hates depending on people, because it makes him feel weak. He also hates, hating others because he was taught that means they must go to hell. He believes everyone has some good in them, yet in each heart there is a hint of darkness. Even if this was true, he erases that and tries to keep the idea alive in his heart. He hates the thought of killing someone, that is why when he is fighting. He will fight until either his opponent is decapitated, or is no longer able to move.
He has gentlemen like qualities, often bowing and pulling out a ladies chair. He talks in a respectful tone, often light and polite. He is often childish, but will never notice really. When he is drunk, he will tend to fall asleep very quickly. He is a very friendly person, often will try to make friends with anyone. His smile never falters, yet he will frown at times, or have no emotion at all. [/font]
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&&--A glimpse of the past
[/size][/center]Father:
Alexander Laurent/59
Mother:
Maria Laurent/56
Sibling/s:
Santario Laurent/Died at Birth
Other important relatives: N/A
Pets:N/A
History:
He was born as Casmir Santario Laurent; he was supposed to be the 2nd child in his family. Through mishaps and miscarriage, he became the oldest and their last child. His parents were both in the Mafia, so they often left him all alone. Since he was so different, the way he was they gave him this name. His name was Slavic, Casmir meaning “Destroyer of Peace”, yet he was given his brother’s first name. Santario, which meant “Savior”, yet he didn’t understand both of these names clashed so well together. As a baby, he never truly saw his parents, only their shadows and their outlines. His only friend was a servant who would usually come, and watch over him. Giving him different types of looks, but would feel sorry for the little baby. Yet he never understood as a baby, why this was happening. Yet he was always attracted to the moon, even though he couldn’t see the colors of it.
When he was growing up, he never truly had friends, and never felt the love and compassion a child should. Yet he pretended, keeping a fake smile on his face, and letting his life go as if it was normal. Yet everyday when he walked home from school, he knew something was wrong. That someone or something was following him, or would jump out at him at the next corner. Every time he went home, he would see bloodshed inside of the house. He wouldn’t notice though, it looked as if water was on the floor to him. Since he saw no colors, he didn’t know what colors actually were, his teachers felt sorry for him. They gave him things, and pointed things out for him, making hand signs as if he were deaf. He would grow annoyed, and would often skip his classes, angering his father.
His father detested him, saying he was a blemish on his families perfect record. Yet he knew why his father kept him alive, it was because he was the one who would have to continue the Mafia Line. To become the next leader, and destroy the peace of the people, yet among his people is a savior. He was told this at a young age, yet he did not understand why this fate was? Didn’t he have a choice in this at all? All of these questions buzzed in his head, as he stared at his father. Yet he nodded, accepting his fate knowing once his father died, there would be no turning back. His mother was the one person who could calm him, even though he could not truly see her for her true colors.
He would always run to her at night, awakening her. Telling her that he was hearing voices in his head, she would shoot him back to bed. Telling him that it was a nightmare, yet she was worried for him. Saying this to his father whenever they were alone, he soon grew tired of it. Sending Casmir to a shrink, the man tried to get into Casmir’s head. But the boy wouldn’t respond he was like an empty shell. The shrink said that the voices in Casmir’s head would possibly be Multiple Personality Disorder, or schizophrenia. His father was horrified, and his mother cried in his father’s arms. Yet as they stared at their son, they saw his face was twisted into a frown, as he walked back to the car.
As Casmir grew older, he was kept away from other children. Being told it would interfere with his destiny, even through this he said nothing. Knowing that whatever he said, it would be never be allowed or heard. As he grew older, they taught him to be cold and dishonest, to only trust himself. To kill those who disobey him, and to be a cold and rude man, yet he didn’t want this fate. Acting this way was to please his father, so he would get praise from the elderly man. They taught him to fight, to arm himself to hide things in his clothing. So he would be able to wield them when the time came. Yet through all of this, his mother began to realize that one day Casmir would snap.
Yet that day came, a week after this, at the dead of night. Casmir began to pack his bag, walking out of his room. His mother waiting by the door, asking if this was his decision. When he replied that it was, she nodded and kissed him goodbye. But when he walked out of the double doors, he was stopped by his father. Who said that once he died, that Casmir would be followed, no matter where he hid. That the mafia would find him, and he would become their leader. No matter what fate, or whoever stood in their way, the mafia would make Casmir their leader. Casmir pushed his father aside, and walked off. Not wanting to listen to his words anymore, he kept going. Knowing his father’s eyes were burning into his back. He already bought tickets to go to La Campana, knowing that someone at the school would understand him.
Roleplaying Sample:
Yelling echoed from inside of the small home, bouncing off the porcelain walls. Hands clamped over his ears, hurried footsteps sounding through the hall. Tears falling down his cheeks, he tried to blank out all the noise. The pain, and the sorrow that was now commencing in this small world of his. Why did this happen to him, to his family this made no sense to him? He wished for it to end, he desperately cried for it to end. Yet, he received no answer, in this small monochrome world of his. He kept running, he felt as if he wasn’t even touching the ground. Until it stopped, his eyes widened and his feet stopped his heels digging into the ground. He turned his head to find why it had stopped. But when he did, he heard a loud bang resounding in the house.
He fell to his knees, knowing what was about to commence. The tears came from his eyes like a waterfall. Brown and Red, glazed with tears, he held his head in his hand. His gasps, and cries sounding through the house. His screams for it to end, now coming back to him. He looked up to see a hand out in front of him. Looking up fully, he saw his mother covered in crimson red blood. His breathing was cold, and he reached his hand out to her, their fingers touched. But he didn’t like it, the feeling of the blood coming to him. He twitched, but held in the words he wished to say, their hands touched, and they held each others. She pulled back, lifting him to his feet, and brushed his hair back with her hands. Whispering sweet words of reassurance to him, yet this did not clear the storm in his heart.
He finally heard it, the cold rain from the outside, that was sweeping away the crimson red. In the comfort of his mother’s arms, he peeked over her shoulder. His eyes widening, bodies littered the backyard, the faces stricken with fear. The limbs torn from them, wounds covering them, as they stared at him with lifeless eyes, his breathing grew faster. His heart pounding, he was about to scream, but his mother held him tighter. Almost cutting off his air passage, yet he felt something enter into his arm. His vision began to grow hazier, and he began to fall into a deep sleep.
Yet he heard her voice, as he was dropped to the ground, his head lulling to the side. Her words were calm, and trying to lull him to sleep. Yet it worked, and the boys eyes closed, as he heard her walk away, and his body be dragged somewhere. Would he be among the dead, or would he be safe? Yet he didn’t know what would happen at all, in this monochrome world of his.