Post by ivybaird on Mar 3, 2009 14:10:38 GMT 10
[/size]`Damien Rafael Ramsey !!!
Cautious. Starry-Eyed. Whimsical.
Name:Damien Rafael Ramsey
Nickname(s): Dammy, Raf, Ramsey.
Major: Writing.
Age:Eighteen.
Grade: Freshman.
Birth date:July 13th, 1990.
Orientation: Straight.
Location: Toronto, Canada.
`Appearance ,,
Body
Damien has a rather average build. He isn't the type to over-exercise, but he likes when his muscles appear defined. He eats well, but doesn't over-do the junk food like most guys his age so he falls more on the leaner side of the scale. In all honesty, Damien doesn't give a damn about the way he looks, as long as he remains healthy. As previously mentioned, he is fairly average, standing at about 5'11”.
Face
A true guy of Irish decent, Damien is fair-skinned, although he does have an abundance of freckles covering his body. He doesn't tan well, more often burning than not. His straight brown hair is usually kept short, grazing his ears and falling right above slightly bushy black eyebrows. Under gorgeous-to the point of being envied-eyelashes, reside eyes the colour of a stormy sky. Bow shaped lips often turn up in a secretive smile whether he is listening to someone talk, or if he is writing-you know he has a secret world that he retreats to, but what writer doesn't?
Style
A rather simplistic man, Damien opts more for the comfy than the stylish. He is quite at home in a pair of worn blue jeans and a plain white v-neck tee shirt or long-sleeved button shirt. He has been known however, on special occasions, to be able to clean up well.
[/size][/center]Body
Damien has a rather average build. He isn't the type to over-exercise, but he likes when his muscles appear defined. He eats well, but doesn't over-do the junk food like most guys his age so he falls more on the leaner side of the scale. In all honesty, Damien doesn't give a damn about the way he looks, as long as he remains healthy. As previously mentioned, he is fairly average, standing at about 5'11”.
Face
A true guy of Irish decent, Damien is fair-skinned, although he does have an abundance of freckles covering his body. He doesn't tan well, more often burning than not. His straight brown hair is usually kept short, grazing his ears and falling right above slightly bushy black eyebrows. Under gorgeous-to the point of being envied-eyelashes, reside eyes the colour of a stormy sky. Bow shaped lips often turn up in a secretive smile whether he is listening to someone talk, or if he is writing-you know he has a secret world that he retreats to, but what writer doesn't?
Style
A rather simplistic man, Damien opts more for the comfy than the stylish. He is quite at home in a pair of worn blue jeans and a plain white v-neck tee shirt or long-sleeved button shirt. He has been known however, on special occasions, to be able to clean up well.
Best Feature: “Probably my eyes. I've been told they're nice, but for me it's more because through them, I view the world. I can see the beauty, the ugliness. But yeah, I guess they're 'pretty' too.”
Worst Feature: “Not that I care about my looks or what people think about me, but my feet and knees are my two worst. There's just something about feet that freak me out, you know? And my knees are kind of knobbly. I have a big scar on my right one from when I fell on a piece of glass when I was a kid. I guess I just hate when people ask questions about it.”[/size]
`Personality ,,
Cautious
This young man has never been the type to start talking to strangers on the subway. He's pretty reserved which is just a polite way of saying shy. He'd much rather listen than talk during a conversation which can often lead to strange looks. When he does talk, it's very calculated, very thought out. This boy isn't one for spontaneity. Chances are, you'll be the one striking up a conversation.
Starry-Eyed
Like most writers, Damien is a romantic at heart. He's always trying to see the best in everyone-not taking pleasure in their flaws. He is a passionate person when it comes to relationships and just life in general. He can sometimes come off as too strong, mostly because of his intense passion for every thing around him. He doesn't like judging people, instead gives them the benefit of the doubt. No one could possibly posses only evil intentions.
Whimsical
Damien is an oddball. There is absolutely no other way to say it. He's got small quirks that intrigue some but irritate most. He is full of peculiar notions, always thinking in a different way from his peers. He doesn't seem to notice either, he's usually off in his own little world and something you might say could snap him back to reality. He has been know to whisper to himself, often in different voices. When asked about it, he usually replies that his characters are talking to him, trying to get their stories told.
Cautious
This young man has never been the type to start talking to strangers on the subway. He's pretty reserved which is just a polite way of saying shy. He'd much rather listen than talk during a conversation which can often lead to strange looks. When he does talk, it's very calculated, very thought out. This boy isn't one for spontaneity. Chances are, you'll be the one striking up a conversation.
Starry-Eyed
Like most writers, Damien is a romantic at heart. He's always trying to see the best in everyone-not taking pleasure in their flaws. He is a passionate person when it comes to relationships and just life in general. He can sometimes come off as too strong, mostly because of his intense passion for every thing around him. He doesn't like judging people, instead gives them the benefit of the doubt. No one could possibly posses only evil intentions.
Whimsical
Damien is an oddball. There is absolutely no other way to say it. He's got small quirks that intrigue some but irritate most. He is full of peculiar notions, always thinking in a different way from his peers. He doesn't seem to notice either, he's usually off in his own little world and something you might say could snap him back to reality. He has been know to whisper to himself, often in different voices. When asked about it, he usually replies that his characters are talking to him, trying to get their stories told.
Likes:
-ice cream soda
-sunlight
-moonlight
-poetry
-nature
-dreaming
-words
-colours
Dislikes:
-negative energy
-loud noises
-infomercials
-toast
-Acne
-darkness
-pollution
-being cold
Positive Traits:
+Good listener
Damien might disappear to a different place every now and then, but he prefers listening to talking. Because he observes most of the time, when asked for advice, it's profound and thoughtful.
+Intelligent
Although a bit strange in the head, Damien has smarts. Not your math and science kind, but rather he has an understanding of humans. His writing holds a certain truth because he knows people.
+Genuine
When you're talking to him, you can tell that he means absolutely everything he says. He never lies to get ahead in life and will tell the truth, even when it hurts. He isn't a faker and won't tell you he likes you if he doesn't-partly because he doesn't hate anyone.
Negative Traits:
-Introvert
A shy boy, Damien doesn't have many friends. He doesn't like looking at the bad side of things and sees this as a plus because it means he can avoid fake people.
-'Disappearing'
When Damien starts day-dreaming, most people think it's because he's rude and doesn't care about what they're saying to him. This also prevents him from making friends.
-Over Analyser
Sometimes he just doesn't know when to stop. Things are never simple with Damien, he's always looking deeper and deeper-sometimes for things that don't exist.
Greatest Ambition: To be published. He doesn't care what for, as long as his work gets out there somehow.
Greatest Fear: Clowns. When he was a kid he had this clown doll that sat on his dresser. Every night, his mom would wind up the key in the back and the clown's head would roll from left to right as a sweet melody lulled the boy to sleep. One night, the doll's head popped clear off and landed in his bed. He has been terrified ever since.[/size]
`History ,,
”You'll never make it in that business.” was what Damien had grown up hearing. His mother, Claire Ramsey, was a perfectionist, and she had dreams for her son. She did everything she could to sway him from his dream, however. She encouraged him to play sports as a child, enrolling him in every single one available in their community. On more than one occasion, he had caught her sobbing to her over-tanned second husband Drew about how she didn't want her son to end up like her dreamer of an ex-husband.
Damien never got a chance to truly meet his biological father, his mother having kicked him out almost a year after the boy had been born. His mother had raised him well, although she was trying to convince him to abandon writing and become a 'real man.'
Behind closed doors, Damien learned that his father was a writer, which inspired him to pursue his goals even further.
One night, after Drew and his mother had gone to sleep, Damien packed his bags and went searching for his dad. He left Canada and headed toward New York, where he had hear his mother say his dad lived.
After many misses, Damien found him. His father was everything he had hoped he'd be. He opened his door to Damien and the boy has been staying there ever since. It was his father who encouraged him to apply for WUofA , his alma matter.
Damien was thrilled when he got in, proving to his mother that he would make it.
”You'll never make it in that business.” was what Damien had grown up hearing. His mother, Claire Ramsey, was a perfectionist, and she had dreams for her son. She did everything she could to sway him from his dream, however. She encouraged him to play sports as a child, enrolling him in every single one available in their community. On more than one occasion, he had caught her sobbing to her over-tanned second husband Drew about how she didn't want her son to end up like her dreamer of an ex-husband.
Damien never got a chance to truly meet his biological father, his mother having kicked him out almost a year after the boy had been born. His mother had raised him well, although she was trying to convince him to abandon writing and become a 'real man.'
Behind closed doors, Damien learned that his father was a writer, which inspired him to pursue his goals even further.
One night, after Drew and his mother had gone to sleep, Damien packed his bags and went searching for his dad. He left Canada and headed toward New York, where he had hear his mother say his dad lived.
After many misses, Damien found him. His father was everything he had hoped he'd be. He opened his door to Damien and the boy has been staying there ever since. It was his father who encouraged him to apply for WUofA , his alma matter.
Damien was thrilled when he got in, proving to his mother that he would make it.
Best Memory: “Definitely when I moved in with my dad. He's just so much more understanding than my mother. He's also a great mentor. He's not that successful yet, but he knows his stuff. It's like, before, I lived my life underwater. All that darkness and pressure. I didn't know which was the surface was. Finding my dad was like when you break through the water and get that breath of air your lungs have been craving.”
Worst Memory: “My mother. Having her tell me every day of my life that I sucked at what I loved doing and should change my dream, change who I am...that just...it wasn't cool.”
[/size]
`Writing Skill ,,
Written for my vampire character of the same name.
A release from the pain of living. That's what this pitiful existence had meant to Damien Ramsey 356 years ago when he had been given the choice. He had been a vain man and the thought of eternally being frozen at the handsome age of nineteen pleased him. Life had never been good, living in London of the seventeenth century.
Disease spread like madness, the plague of 1655 killing off most of the city's population, including Damien's parents. At the age of three, he was cast out into the street, only to be picked up by an elderly couple. They raised him as if he were their son, giving him everything he could possibly desire.
Spoiling him to the point that he took everything for granted, carelessly spending money gambling and drinking. The elderly couple died in 1670, sending Damien further into his downward spiral. He had absolutely nothing to live for and went seeking death wherever he possibly could. It was one night, terribly late on a cold December evening that Damien met her.
She was beautiful, a vision of the purest form of loveliness in a red silk dress, a violent colour for a woman to be wearing. Her long wavy blonde hair shone in the moonlight like the sea as she passed by the dark bar window from which Damien observed the passersby. With just one glance, Damien was enthralled. He got up from his stool and followed her into the night.
Through the winding cobblestone streets they walked. She never slowed her pace and Damien always kept behind her. He was completely at her service, would have done anything for her. Never did he notice that the arms of her dress were bare, revealing skin almost as white as the snow that had begun to fall from the steel grey sky.
She paused once she reached an alleyway, turning around with a grin on her lips.
“I can take your pain away.” she whispered gently, suddenly at his ear.
“Pain?”
“I can read it in your eyes Damien. You don't want to feel anymore.”
“How do you know my name?” he asked, slightly confused.
The woman's eyes glowed with a fire he had never seen before.
“I know everything. I know that you will say yes to me. I can offer you eternal beauty, grace and charm. A life of happiness. Never will you have to worry about a thing. With beauty comes everything else.”
Foolishly, he accepted.
All he remembered was at first there was pain. Then came the most pleasurable sensation he had ever felt in his life.
He was floating high above the city in this lovely woman's arms. As soon as it began, it ended and he suddenly felt empty. Opening his eyes, he saw the blonde crouched over him in the snow. He sat up quickly and drops off blood began to drip from his nose, their pace becoming more frequent until he was running like a faucet.
The blood poured from his mouth when he tried to scream and the pounding of his heart beat in his ears as his life's liquid descended from there. The last thing to go was his vision, he felt his capillaries burst all at the same time and then all he saw was a river of crimson.
“It has begun.” the woman laughed.
When his blood slowed, Damien felt faint. He knew he was dying and the woman was doing nothing to help.
Suddenly, a wrist appeared in front of him, a large cut made at the base. The smell drove him wild and he began lapping it up, the magic in the woman's blood transforming him slowly and painfully.
“I Cassandra Mortmain have made thee, Damien Rafael Ramsey into a creature of the night.” was all he heard when he closed his eyes and became lost in blissful unconsciousness.
When he awoke, he was alone and thirst consumed him...the thirst. Cassandra had not spoken of the thirst.
It was now that Damien lay in bed, listening to the screams Jessica's prey made that he allowed himself to think of his past. After waking up a vampire, he had gone in search of Cassandra, never to find her again. He joined a coven where he was adopted by the leader. He lived with them for several years before being banned for carelessness.
Even in death he had wanted to die. He left bodies strewn across the city, was almost caught several times and began fights with his own kind. His father banished him to McAllister's mansion and he had remained in the house for the last hundred years. Alone and bitter. Jessica managed to lift his spirits every once and awhile, she was a lovely creature.
He licked his lips, the thirst beginning to mount in his chest and throat.
“Oh I do hope she shares. I love the terrified ones.” he muttered to himself, his crimson eyes sparkling with malice as he fixed his raven black hair. He opened the door to his room, letting the screams of the man below serenade him. Canines flashing, he jumped down the stairs to the main floor.
[/size][/center]Written for my vampire character of the same name.
A release from the pain of living. That's what this pitiful existence had meant to Damien Ramsey 356 years ago when he had been given the choice. He had been a vain man and the thought of eternally being frozen at the handsome age of nineteen pleased him. Life had never been good, living in London of the seventeenth century.
Disease spread like madness, the plague of 1655 killing off most of the city's population, including Damien's parents. At the age of three, he was cast out into the street, only to be picked up by an elderly couple. They raised him as if he were their son, giving him everything he could possibly desire.
Spoiling him to the point that he took everything for granted, carelessly spending money gambling and drinking. The elderly couple died in 1670, sending Damien further into his downward spiral. He had absolutely nothing to live for and went seeking death wherever he possibly could. It was one night, terribly late on a cold December evening that Damien met her.
She was beautiful, a vision of the purest form of loveliness in a red silk dress, a violent colour for a woman to be wearing. Her long wavy blonde hair shone in the moonlight like the sea as she passed by the dark bar window from which Damien observed the passersby. With just one glance, Damien was enthralled. He got up from his stool and followed her into the night.
Through the winding cobblestone streets they walked. She never slowed her pace and Damien always kept behind her. He was completely at her service, would have done anything for her. Never did he notice that the arms of her dress were bare, revealing skin almost as white as the snow that had begun to fall from the steel grey sky.
She paused once she reached an alleyway, turning around with a grin on her lips.
“I can take your pain away.” she whispered gently, suddenly at his ear.
“Pain?”
“I can read it in your eyes Damien. You don't want to feel anymore.”
“How do you know my name?” he asked, slightly confused.
The woman's eyes glowed with a fire he had never seen before.
“I know everything. I know that you will say yes to me. I can offer you eternal beauty, grace and charm. A life of happiness. Never will you have to worry about a thing. With beauty comes everything else.”
Foolishly, he accepted.
All he remembered was at first there was pain. Then came the most pleasurable sensation he had ever felt in his life.
He was floating high above the city in this lovely woman's arms. As soon as it began, it ended and he suddenly felt empty. Opening his eyes, he saw the blonde crouched over him in the snow. He sat up quickly and drops off blood began to drip from his nose, their pace becoming more frequent until he was running like a faucet.
The blood poured from his mouth when he tried to scream and the pounding of his heart beat in his ears as his life's liquid descended from there. The last thing to go was his vision, he felt his capillaries burst all at the same time and then all he saw was a river of crimson.
“It has begun.” the woman laughed.
When his blood slowed, Damien felt faint. He knew he was dying and the woman was doing nothing to help.
Suddenly, a wrist appeared in front of him, a large cut made at the base. The smell drove him wild and he began lapping it up, the magic in the woman's blood transforming him slowly and painfully.
“I Cassandra Mortmain have made thee, Damien Rafael Ramsey into a creature of the night.” was all he heard when he closed his eyes and became lost in blissful unconsciousness.
When he awoke, he was alone and thirst consumed him...the thirst. Cassandra had not spoken of the thirst.
It was now that Damien lay in bed, listening to the screams Jessica's prey made that he allowed himself to think of his past. After waking up a vampire, he had gone in search of Cassandra, never to find her again. He joined a coven where he was adopted by the leader. He lived with them for several years before being banned for carelessness.
Even in death he had wanted to die. He left bodies strewn across the city, was almost caught several times and began fights with his own kind. His father banished him to McAllister's mansion and he had remained in the house for the last hundred years. Alone and bitter. Jessica managed to lift his spirits every once and awhile, she was a lovely creature.
He licked his lips, the thirst beginning to mount in his chest and throat.
“Oh I do hope she shares. I love the terrified ones.” he muttered to himself, his crimson eyes sparkling with malice as he fixed his raven black hair. He opened the door to his room, letting the screams of the man below serenade him. Canines flashing, he jumped down the stairs to the main floor.
`Behind The Character ,,
Name: Ivy
Age: 18, almost 19.
Role-playing experience: Quite a bit, though not in this genre.
How you found us: * blushes* Neopets.
I am Canadian so please keep in mind I spell things differently sometimes.
[/size][/blockquote]
