Post by tarquin finley ellis on Oct 4, 2012 2:53:00 GMT -5
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| [atrb= border, 0, true] tarquin finley ellis. [/style][style= width: 194px; height: 300px; background-image: url(http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a53/ProsenCoNs/194x300holdingcell.jpg);] [/style][style=width: 194px; padding-top: 19px; padding-bottom: 19px; background-color: #ffffff; font family: arial; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; color: #575651; font-style: italic;]prose. |
RESPOND TO: quinn, finn, pyro, tarkviniĭ
AGE: seventeen
BIRTHDATE: february twenty-first, nineteen ninety-five
GENDER: male
ORIENTATION: pansexual
WARD: manipulation
DIAGNOSIS: fire manipulation
CLAIMS TO BE: edu beber
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because it needs to be said; fire should be the least of anyone's concerns regarding tarquin. when it comes to violence -- and it often does these days -- quinn is much more likely to use martial arts to cut someone down. moody, irrational, quick to anger with a terrible temper. stubborn as hell, opinionated, obnoxious... he tends to get into a lot of fights. what's more? he searches out fights more then not anymore. he's become bitter and cold after being torn away from makism, and he'll use every excuse to lash out. he's in pain, and you know what they say about a wounded animal... they tend to attack quite fiercely if it comes to that.
he has an ego, and it has to do with various things, not the least of which being the fact that he has learned, trained and practiced different styles of martial arts since he was very young. at first it was a family tradtion to learn one style -- taikwondo -- but quinn was a natural at fighting, and found it to be a good outlet for his temper. he continued in it, branching out to different styles as time went on.
quinn gets fixated on things, and he can be bitterly clingly to the wrong damn shit. he has some fucked up views and morals, and although there had been a time when he was loyal to clan and family, those days have passed since he has been sent to chaspel heights. not that they weren't shaky after some trials at manson, of course. quinn is a fast learner -- when he wants to, of course -- and can self correct quickly and easily. this comes in very handy in his martial arts. he no longer has much control over himself since coming to chaspel heights, nor does he care to. he's overall vicious, violent and unstable. any sense of calm is false, and merely the eye of the storm.
REACTIONS:
born to amery and scotia ellis, after roman and before calan; his two brothers. this makes him the middle child. irish, upper-class wealthy. tarquin grew up in manuka in his immediate family's mansion -- most of the family live this way -- learning the normal taikwondo martial arts for defense purposes. as a natural fighter, he kept right at it; taking classes as he grew up.
there wasn't much sibling rivalry for quinn, considering the fact that there was very little reason for it. there was no jealousy for calan's progeny status, and quinn did not envy roman's firstborn status and all the pressures that came with it. the two -- roman and quinn -- were as much best friends as any siblings could be. at least until they ended up in an incestuous relationship with each other. it continued for over a year and a half before roman decided to call it quits to date a girl and walked out. it ended up in a very violent mental breakdown for quinn, and he was then sent to mason academy and asylum in england at sixteen.
the clan thought that being sent there would help quinn to 'get better' -- straighten out, calm down -- and it partly worked. at least, he did calm down quite a bit due to the relationship formed with makism. quinn was in love. strange, unnerving, all consuming love. they became that crazy, possessive, inseperable pair, and quinn had become oddly well behaved save for a few spats with other people. quinn had even gotten puppies -- one for makism and one for himself -- but of course the clan, once they found out about his... activities, were displeased and decided to test quinn's loyalties.
having gotten through that emotional roller coaster and thinking things were over and settled, quinn was adjusted to living out his term at manson with makism. and then the clan sent him to chaspel heights, and all sense of calm vanished. the moment they tore him away from makism, everything went downhill. quinn became a mess. nothing got better as expected. everything got worse. roman ended up checking himself in as well, but after a week or so he was found with his neck snapped. quinn doesn't deny his involvement in the death, either.
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• amery ellis - father
• scotia ellis - mother
• conley ellis - ellis clan leader
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sample roleplay here.
There was no explination on how and why this had happened, how they had gone from sniping at each other -- chest puffing, testing with words and subtle actions -- to the cuddly, nearly inseperable pair that they now were. For Quinn, he had found someone interesting, challenging and who bent at the right places rather then breaking. It is a balance Quinn has never known before, and there so much more to it that can't quite be put into words. He didn't just fall like this. Quinn was withheld and liked to distance himself; he did not have any interest in letting feelings get involved. That was not where this should have headed. Quinn knew exactly how he intended it to be. He'd wanted to simply use Makism and discard of him later -- something that made his stomach roll now, made him feel sick -- yet that was the idea then, at the start. He'd agreed to be Makism's boyfriend because he'd figured that it would be convient, and there was no longer a reason to hide that he was not a straight arrow.
Everything had crumbled out from under him, though. It had started to become noticable to Quinn that there was some kind of feeling when he'd hesitated seconds before sex; all riled up and ready. Still he'd hesitated. And Quinn was not the type to do that. Not even if he knew he'd cause the other pain from it. Yet this time he'd been careful, even though he didn't quite have the patience for the entire process required for a circumstance such as that one. It wasn't as if he'd gotten it either, because he'd been in a similiar situation for his first time. It helped, though, that Quinn had gotten his pleasure beforehand. These things no longer mattered; it was done and things had only gotten better, smoother between Makism and himself. Though with whatever the feelings had evolved into, Quinn wasn't ready to express vocally what he really felt for the Leshy. It was a risk he'd been yet unwilling to take. Quinn had been burned before, and did not want a repeat. Though he already knew this would cut into him no matter what happened now.
To lose Makism, that would be destruction. Quinn figured if the Leshy did try to leave, one of them would soon enough be dead, because Quinn was too possessive and in far too deep already. He would never willingly let Makism go. If such a thing happened, then Quinn would probably never leave this place, not with all the damage he could do, would do. Take away the one thing that makes him feel whole and happy? Yeah that wouldn't end well. For all the good things that the pair were, they could very well be a devastation waiting to happen. But Quinn wasn't letting go, and he was sure as hell not letting anyone touch what was his.
Quinn wasn't even sure what had prompted him to be so blunt with Makism, to lay it all out on the table like he had for the male. But there wasn't anything hidden between them -- they withheld, and somewhere deep down they both knew this; what was real and true but couldn't yet be reasonably said -- and the major things were out in the open. They knew far too much about each other to have gotten so comfortable and feel so safe in each other's arms. It happened anyway. Words of 'don't throw me away' and 'please don't go', and how could they not know? These words had been displays of weakness that they should never had uttered to each other. But they had, and so far no horrors had befallent hem as Quinn might have thought they would. It was still early, though. There was plenty of time for something to go wrong. But Quinn wasn't just going to give up. That wasn't who he was.
He'd forgotten the very movement of life around him when he was with Makism. Quinn had a strict daily routine that he never missed until now. Stretching and practising the various martial arts he liked to do, that had become his entire life, more or less. And now there was Makism and all of that had been pushed aside. Unseemly, and no one would have expected it; any of it. Quinn had never dated before, didn't need to. Was he doing things the right way? He really doubted it, but he couldn't care less, because what they were doing was working for them so far. In Quinn's opinion, that was the only thing that mattered. He didn't keep to what was normal anyway, so why start now?
Quinn had forgotten that he was younger then Makism while he was with the Leshy. There was nothing about this relationship to suggest that he was less then equal. It was just them and all the little things people liked to pick at didn't matter. Makism did not treat him as younger, did not try to pick him up as if he were a doll to be carried about at whim. God, he'd hated when Roman had picked him up all the time. His brother had always taken such liberties, even though Quinn could have killed him five ways from sunday for it. Looking back on it, Quinn shouldn't have let it go. But it was the past, and nothing in him wanted to return to that now. Not when he had Makism. Perhaps those things made Quinn more inclined to try and carry Makism around. Not because he saw the Leshy as inferior, but because he wanted to feel how it was like to carry someone in his arms. Eventually he'd lure Makism into his lap for more carnal activities; Quinn couldn't help the desire for it. He was probably the poster child for 'everything is a circle, you live what you learn'.
He could have captured Makism quickly enough -- he's crazy fast for a supernatural without enhanced speed due to excessing training -- but this is play, and Quinn wouldn't risk damaging the Leshy for that. So he has to swipe Makism gently into the mattress, and then into his arms; which he'd done. Quinn's charmed by how quickly Makism cuddles to his chest, and he's overwhelmed with adoration and pride. Even more so with the word said against his neck, and it's in this moment that he is urged again to say it, forcing himself to remain quiet. He needs a distraction or the emotions were going to pour from his lips, and so he decides to go with the original plan; carry the Leshy, if only teasing for a few moments. It's cute, the way Makism struggles in his arms, and of course Quinn's smug about it. He moves his lips back against Makism's at the kiss, the smirk properly wiped away by the action.
When Makism replies, Quinn is quick to respond; "Shirts are more so." He retorts with a grin, not bothering to wear one just yet; he'll have to stop by his dorm room to find one after the shower. Not a big deal, though, since he really did believe shirts shouldn't need to be worn. He never liked them. He glances at Makism when the Leshy cringes and whimpers, and Quinn's gaze is instantly drawn to where his mark was. Yeah, that wouldn't feel pleasent against fabric, would it? He frowns at this thought, but Makism is already grabbing towels, and once one was tossed at him, he caught it and tossed it over a shoulder and nodded at the word. "Yes." He responds, starting out the door and towards the showers. Quinn's debating taking Makism's hand, but he lets the Leshy choose how to go about leaving the room. Once there at the showers, he notes the presence of some other male he has no name for. "Get gone." He snarls the words, having realized that right now, someone seeing his Makism naked was not gonna fly.
[/td][td]sample roleplay here.
There was no explination on how and why this had happened, how they had gone from sniping at each other -- chest puffing, testing with words and subtle actions -- to the cuddly, nearly inseperable pair that they now were. For Quinn, he had found someone interesting, challenging and who bent at the right places rather then breaking. It is a balance Quinn has never known before, and there so much more to it that can't quite be put into words. He didn't just fall like this. Quinn was withheld and liked to distance himself; he did not have any interest in letting feelings get involved. That was not where this should have headed. Quinn knew exactly how he intended it to be. He'd wanted to simply use Makism and discard of him later -- something that made his stomach roll now, made him feel sick -- yet that was the idea then, at the start. He'd agreed to be Makism's boyfriend because he'd figured that it would be convient, and there was no longer a reason to hide that he was not a straight arrow.
Everything had crumbled out from under him, though. It had started to become noticable to Quinn that there was some kind of feeling when he'd hesitated seconds before sex; all riled up and ready. Still he'd hesitated. And Quinn was not the type to do that. Not even if he knew he'd cause the other pain from it. Yet this time he'd been careful, even though he didn't quite have the patience for the entire process required for a circumstance such as that one. It wasn't as if he'd gotten it either, because he'd been in a similiar situation for his first time. It helped, though, that Quinn had gotten his pleasure beforehand. These things no longer mattered; it was done and things had only gotten better, smoother between Makism and himself. Though with whatever the feelings had evolved into, Quinn wasn't ready to express vocally what he really felt for the Leshy. It was a risk he'd been yet unwilling to take. Quinn had been burned before, and did not want a repeat. Though he already knew this would cut into him no matter what happened now.
To lose Makism, that would be destruction. Quinn figured if the Leshy did try to leave, one of them would soon enough be dead, because Quinn was too possessive and in far too deep already. He would never willingly let Makism go. If such a thing happened, then Quinn would probably never leave this place, not with all the damage he could do, would do. Take away the one thing that makes him feel whole and happy? Yeah that wouldn't end well. For all the good things that the pair were, they could very well be a devastation waiting to happen. But Quinn wasn't letting go, and he was sure as hell not letting anyone touch what was his.
Quinn wasn't even sure what had prompted him to be so blunt with Makism, to lay it all out on the table like he had for the male. But there wasn't anything hidden between them -- they withheld, and somewhere deep down they both knew this; what was real and true but couldn't yet be reasonably said -- and the major things were out in the open. They knew far too much about each other to have gotten so comfortable and feel so safe in each other's arms. It happened anyway. Words of 'don't throw me away' and 'please don't go', and how could they not know? These words had been displays of weakness that they should never had uttered to each other. But they had, and so far no horrors had befallent hem as Quinn might have thought they would. It was still early, though. There was plenty of time for something to go wrong. But Quinn wasn't just going to give up. That wasn't who he was.
He'd forgotten the very movement of life around him when he was with Makism. Quinn had a strict daily routine that he never missed until now. Stretching and practising the various martial arts he liked to do, that had become his entire life, more or less. And now there was Makism and all of that had been pushed aside. Unseemly, and no one would have expected it; any of it. Quinn had never dated before, didn't need to. Was he doing things the right way? He really doubted it, but he couldn't care less, because what they were doing was working for them so far. In Quinn's opinion, that was the only thing that mattered. He didn't keep to what was normal anyway, so why start now?
Quinn had forgotten that he was younger then Makism while he was with the Leshy. There was nothing about this relationship to suggest that he was less then equal. It was just them and all the little things people liked to pick at didn't matter. Makism did not treat him as younger, did not try to pick him up as if he were a doll to be carried about at whim. God, he'd hated when Roman had picked him up all the time. His brother had always taken such liberties, even though Quinn could have killed him five ways from sunday for it. Looking back on it, Quinn shouldn't have let it go. But it was the past, and nothing in him wanted to return to that now. Not when he had Makism. Perhaps those things made Quinn more inclined to try and carry Makism around. Not because he saw the Leshy as inferior, but because he wanted to feel how it was like to carry someone in his arms. Eventually he'd lure Makism into his lap for more carnal activities; Quinn couldn't help the desire for it. He was probably the poster child for 'everything is a circle, you live what you learn'.
He could have captured Makism quickly enough -- he's crazy fast for a supernatural without enhanced speed due to excessing training -- but this is play, and Quinn wouldn't risk damaging the Leshy for that. So he has to swipe Makism gently into the mattress, and then into his arms; which he'd done. Quinn's charmed by how quickly Makism cuddles to his chest, and he's overwhelmed with adoration and pride. Even more so with the word said against his neck, and it's in this moment that he is urged again to say it, forcing himself to remain quiet. He needs a distraction or the emotions were going to pour from his lips, and so he decides to go with the original plan; carry the Leshy, if only teasing for a few moments. It's cute, the way Makism struggles in his arms, and of course Quinn's smug about it. He moves his lips back against Makism's at the kiss, the smirk properly wiped away by the action.
When Makism replies, Quinn is quick to respond; "Shirts are more so." He retorts with a grin, not bothering to wear one just yet; he'll have to stop by his dorm room to find one after the shower. Not a big deal, though, since he really did believe shirts shouldn't need to be worn. He never liked them. He glances at Makism when the Leshy cringes and whimpers, and Quinn's gaze is instantly drawn to where his mark was. Yeah, that wouldn't feel pleasent against fabric, would it? He frowns at this thought, but Makism is already grabbing towels, and once one was tossed at him, he caught it and tossed it over a shoulder and nodded at the word. "Yes." He responds, starting out the door and towards the showers. Quinn's debating taking Makism's hand, but he lets the Leshy choose how to go about leaving the room. Once there at the showers, he notes the presence of some other male he has no name for. "Get gone." He snarls the words, having realized that right now, someone seeing his Makism naked was not gonna fly.
male.
[/style][style= width: 100px; padding-top: 20px; padding-bottom: 20px; background-color: #ffffff; font family: arial; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; color: #575651; font-style: italic;]seventeen.
[/style][style= width: 100px; padding-top: 20px; padding-bottom: 20px; background-color: #ffffff; font family: arial; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; color: #575651; font-style: italic;]manipulation.
[/style][/style][style= width: 100px; padding-top: 20px; padding-bottom: 20px; background-color: #ffffff; font family: arial; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; color: #575651; font-style: italic;]fire manipulation.
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thereisalieinperfection @ CAUTION 2.0[/center]
