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Date Posted: 06:08:52 08/12/02 Mon
Author: S.l.a.y.
Subject: .ironic.

Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
When you think everything's okay and everything's going right
And life has a funny way of helping you out when
You think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up
In your face...

cursed: upon the time of his birth, the male was bestowed with a title considered 'proper' by the members of his village. Yet as time's hands spun, he grew to be anything but another compliant peasant boy, and as the years continued to unravel beneath him, his previous name was lost amid the shadows, and the dwellers of the streets dubbed him with a new calling, one not simply given, but earned; Slay.
rotations: twenty-three.
genre: of the masculine tenor.
semblance: His features are a map of hardened lines and unreadable emotions, the 'invisible mask' he wore shielding any thoughts the male had to offer to none other than himself. His eyes are a deep sepia hue, adding a softness to the rugged attractiveness of his face, and it is within them that perhaps, on a rare occasion, a hint of emotion may be found. His hair is a dark shade to match the tone of his eyes, falling in an unruly, yet in no way unappealing, mass over his head. His lips are sensuous, notoriously curved in a sly sneer rather than the expected grin. He stands at a daunting 6'1", but rather than having the ungainly stance of a newborn equine - slender and long limbed - his physique is layered with brawn, an attribute forged from a lifetime on the streets.
status: common.
employment: His 'employment' is far from such, as he would sooner throw himself upon a sharpened blade then work beneath the dominance of another. Instead, he lurks the streets in the guise of what some would refer to as a 'lone wolf', striving to perform his rogue escapades apart from the obtrusive company of others.
persona: His personality is notorious amid the realms he crosses, the few people he chooses to converse with cringing at the demon-like coldness of his outer shell. He resides within the shadows of the back alleys, not from fear of other humans, but rather from preference, as the people he encounters tend to have a common plague of either annoyance or stupidity, and he would sooner avoid them unless the need became vital. However, beneath the dominance of the demon the male presented, there did indeed lie a man, one with a love not yet unveiled or admitted, much less given to another.

...and isn't it ironic, don't you think?

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Replies:

[ :: swoons and coos. :: Mah baby! Yeah, accepted. Bah, doesn't it figure I leave for vacation the day after you join? ] (NT) -- .me., 06:45:33 08/12/02 Mon
- -Squeal.- Goodie! Mr. Asshole has arrived! -Beam. Wavie.- (NT) -- Mari, 17:24:53 08/12/02 Mon