||[Aug. 26th, 2005|02:08 pm]
Real name & age: Adam, 24
AIM/Yahoo: Feurety (or
Blckmgk on MSN)
Experience: Some Shadowrun
online rp, and some DnD online rp but otherwise I am a complete newbie, please
be kind and patient with me. heh.
Where did you find out about us?:
Character name & age: Saethu Feurety, looks to be in
late 20s to early 30s, but around 212 years old.
Character background: An extremely misanthropic individual,
hates himself for his past and what he is and is afraid to get close to people,
fearing what will happen. He has killed by accident everyone he has ever been
close to and as such has resorted to scarring himself so he will never forget.
His scars heal over time so he always cuts himself anew. He is pyrokinetic and
ages very slowly, as to if he is immortal, he is unsure, but he believes it to
be true unless proven otherwise. He has had blackouts during periods of intense
emotion, and always woken up in smouldering ruin. He can create and control fire
but uses it rarely for anything too major exhausts him and renders him near
comatose for hours if not days on end. Whether or not he is in control during
his blackouts is unknown to him, and he fears it could be his demonic blood that
brings out something evil within him. So he protects himself and others with an
overly brazen demeanour, discouraging others beforehand. As such he leads a
lonely life. He hones his body and soul through fierce meditation and rigorous
practise of martial arts, through which he has learned a variety throughout the
years. Beyond that he goes by the name of Seth and his welsh accent is all but
gone only trickling in from time to time when he doesn't catch
LJ name for character: feurety
warehouse loft style apartment was located near the East River, in a more
industrial area of Queens. Huge vaulted ceilings and next to no walls, Seth
drove into "garage" portion of his vast barren dwelling. The headlights
reflected an almost harsh cast of illumination on his belongings. The kitchen on
the left hand side, the loft open bedroom on the second story, made gothic by
the contrast of the black wrought iron railings and staircase against the beam
of the car lights. The living room to the right, minimalist in design, little
did others know it was simply less of a fire hazard to own fewer things. The
study lay towards the back of the warehouse, beneath the bedroom, he liked the
close confines of it relative to the openness of the rest of the abode. The
shower and bath lay to the back left corner.
He turned the ignition off and the purr of the RX8 engine fell quiet. He clicked
the small button on his key fob and the steal doors rolled closed shutting out
the amber glow of the night city beyond, save for the large heavy windows that
showcased the East River and the skyline across it. Getting out of the car,
there came the soft padded footsteps of an all black cat, Mephistopheles. Humans
wouldn't have heard the cat approach but the severity of his hearing allowed him
to pinpoint the cat approaching from the couch before it had a chance to purr or
announce its presence.
His eyes as well, behind the dark tinted glasses
were also adept at piercing the darkness and he bent to pick up the feline,
which would have otherwise looked as if he were scooping darkness incarnate into
his arms and holding it close. The cat started purring at this and started
bunting his chin, its golden eyes yearning up at him.
"Yeah yeah... I
know what you want." With that he bent again to let the cat jump out of his
arms. In his 200 years he had yet to find a cat that would allow itself to be
placed all the way to the ground. Always, and he figured he was in a relative
position to comment in absolute, always cats leapt the last quarter of the way
Mephisto bounded off towards the kitchen with a happy tail, and
Seth proceeded to glide towards the couch. Softer than the cat, his feet made
but naught a sound. He took off the trenchcoat and tossed it lazily on the back
of the couch. He took the glasses off as well and set them on the side table. He
didn't turn on any lights and navigated through the pools of darkness as if it
were the equivalent to the midday sun.
He proceeded to the kitchen where
his expectant cat seemed to be trying to rub its colour off on the corner of the
counter with its jaw. In 200 some off years... cats were still a mystery to
him... well except for that jumping thing.
He stooped to open the
cupboard beneath the sink, he grabbed a can of catfood and opened it via the
little pull tab atop of it. The aroma of the meat concoction made him salivate
shamefully and he realized he hadn't eaten all day. He dished out the contents
of the can with a fork unto a small dinner plate and gave it to Mephisto who
hungrily began burrowing his nose into it, purring with ever mouthful.
Seth went to the fridge and opened it, the stabbing light of it when the
door opened made him wince and still squinting he surveyed the contents. Beer
and steak. He had a wine cooler and some nice vintage red on some racks in the
study area, but he figured he would stick with the beer and steak tonight.
Grabbing a cold one, he cracked it and polished it down in 2-3 large gulps. He
quietly burped and excused himself to no one in particular.
grabbed another and a thick raw steak still in its package from the meat deli.
He tore it open and tossed it on a plate, grabbing a fork on the way to the
By the time he reached the couch the steak was already a
nice savoury medium rare. A trick that took nearly 20 years alone to get down to
perfection. There was many a year he had to choke down charcoal.
He turned on the television, a flat screen 40 inch, and flicked through the
channels looking for anything of interest. He knew that there were others like
him or at least similar. He usually found out the hard way about them and they
more often then not didn't seem to take a liking to him. Perhaps they could
smell his blood and how it was different, or perhaps they didn't share his brand
of humour but it usually resulted in them trying to kill him. He learned then to
be aware and know what to look for. He knew for sure there were any range of
demons out there, but the primaries seemed to be the vamps and
"Pimps and Chuds, Sharks and the Jets..." he had mused to
Once he recognized them he knew to try and avoid
confrontation, some seemed highly territorial and if he lingered too long in
their area they made it known. Since, he had known how to recognize them in the
news. Missing persons, homeless deaths, mysterious deaths, all news that is
shouldered to the back of the newspaper where only the families of the victims
dare tread and face the grim reality of one who has become part of the food
He always checked the news from time to time to see if any thing
suspicious seemed to be near enough to cause for concern. He had been in the
warehouse apartment for 6 years now and with it finally being almost completely
fireproofed in 2003, he didn't want to have to go through all that again anytime
soon. Nothing drew his attention and he turned it onto an older Meg Ryan movie
that was already part way through. French Kiss it was with Kevin Kline. Good
movie, being old like he was, one needed a hobby and he became a videophile
shortly after bata videos crashed and burned. He saw the same thing happening
with VHS these days and he often wondered where man's technology would take them
next. To a greater more subtle extent, the reason he got lost in movies, is that
it replaced and supplicated the innate desire he had to lead a normal
The cell phone in his duster jacket produced a muffled vibration
then interrupting Kevin Kline accosting a frenchman named Bub or was it Bob? He
never had the ringer turned on and found it often an affront to the ears of the
general public, and quietly despised those who had "catchy" ring tunes which
seemed to add a whole new level of lingering annoyance long after the cell phone
user had left your immediate vicinity.
Scrounging through his jacket he
found the phone and flipped it
"Well thanks for calling, have a good night, look forward to doing this
again sometime." Seth made to close the phone and hang
"Yes, can I help you?" Seth was mildly irritated,
only paying half attention to the caller and watching more of the movie as he
cut another bite sized morsel of his delectable
"rmmrmrmm? *I what?*" Seth grumbled through a
mouthful of food.
"You aren't human."
Seth finished chewing and swallowed before thinking of what to say next. Every
now and then his only real threat from humans presented itself if someone
started asking too many questions or getting to close. This fellow on the other
end of the phone line, seemed to fall in the former part of those categories and
subsequently somehow found Seth's number. Unlisted as it was Seth still
occasionally got the wrong phone number call, or from certain associates.
Otherwise the device was largely useless in the function of receiving calls.
Being close to two in the morning he had presumed it was a wrong number or some
pathetic obscene caller or something. Nothing to seriously require his
But if a human does start poking around too much, it could
compromise Seth's position in life more so than any cracked out vamp or
testosterone-ridden werewolf. For humans like cats were curious and Seth hated
when curiosity would have to result in the killing of the cat. Seth's position
in life was simply that he didn't exist, not as one person, and if the cattle
like masses of humans start getting wind of something the media was not far
behind. And media, can result in a quicker death than any wooden stake or silver
"Do I know you?" Seth replied with a calm cool
"No, but I know of you, and you killed my
The figurative ball dropped and Seth allowed himself a bead of
sweat to nervously grace his brow. Seth rarely killed families, and if he did it
was more often a result of one of his black outs. The mention of such an
atrocity made for a sudden flare up of the wounds hidden beneath his shirt. As
if each cut suddenly sparked a blow torch or guilt and grief. The voice was
male, younger, perhaps close to what Seth's apparent age was.
don't know what..."
"DON'T YOU FUCKEN LIE TO ME!! YOU EVIL BASTARD!! YOU
TOOK MY FAMILY AWAY FROM ME. MY PARENT'S, AND MY SISTER..."
And that was
it. 4 years ago, Seth as it always was inevitably, grew close to someone despite
his intentions. Her name was Kayla, and she was an art student. 26 years old and
getting her masters from Tisch school of the Arts with NYU in Cinema Studies. He
met her at a small gala following the New York International Independent Film
and Video Festival opening in April. They hit it off and he allowed himself to
see her again. Again happened a few more times, til he found himself having
dinner with her and her parents in Manhattan. The evening had been going well,
but sometime during after dinner sherry....it was Amontillado, exquisite.... he
blacked out. He awoke amongst an inferno. He was unscathed but the charred forms
silhouettes against the blazing walls were still in a state of recline,
suggesting they hadn't even had a chance to set their drinks down before their
flesh was seared from their bodies and burned away. Sirens suggested the
building was still intact and he fled before the authorities arrived. It was
always hard to gauge how much time had transpired after his blackouts.
He hated himself afterwards, and still did. He hadn't had a blackout in
almost 20 years prior to that and he allowed himself a luxury he could never
afford and still paid for it every time he glanced into a mirror.
He remembered back to that night, and prior. Talking with Kayla, how she
mentioned her parents, and her brother, Dale, who was away taking his Bachelor's
at Howard University in D.C. A business school. Seth had never met
"Look, please calm down. We can talk about this."
NO TALKING NOW. YOU KILLED MY FAMILY, YOU TOOK EVERYTHING AWAY FROM
He had to belay a notion of ignorance, admitting to anything
would only prove dire later.
"Just tell me who you are, I can help you.
If something is wrong let me..."
"NO!" The caller interrupted Seth again.
Seth could hear the mounting adrenaline, the synapses were firing too quickly
now, and the caller wouldn't listen to anything Seth had to say now anyhow. The
caller continued, "NO! I KNOW WHO YOU ARE AND NOW IT IS YOUR TURN TO
Unlike the movies, when someone hangs up on you it
is rarely ever a confusing circumstance. Infact it rather drives the message
home, like a nail in a coffin, and hardly ever results in the person who was
hung up on calling frantically into the phone "HELLO?!?!" repeatedly. As such,
Seth closed his phone with nary a word and set it down. The steak half eaten and
the Meg Ryan movie now a thousand miles away, Seth sat in silence.
the vastness of the warehouse apartment, with nothing but room to spare, Seth
sat amongst his thoughts and memories, and felt like he was suffocating with no
room to breath.