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 Claire Mon'roe, The Mechanic
Claire Mon'roe
 Posted: Apr 29 2018, 08:39 PM


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Name: Claire Mon'roe
Gender: Male
Age equivalent: 19
Species: Siberian Husky x French Porcelain
Height: 5ft10
Weight: 122lbs

Residence Biome: Metropolis
Residence: Small Apartment in the Ghetto
Profession: College Student / Mob Lackey

Family:

Lola (Mother)
Julius (Father)


General appearance: Purity of light with a gentle kiss; Malicious artistry, ephemeral strokes of magnificent alabaster upon the bleached surface of grinning bones. Malignant remnant of era past, primeval, elegant gore beneath the savage light of the swinging pendulum, silver, ethereal within the bruised ombre of the gluttonous skies. Wisps of silvern-white and bleached blonde, embellished in a flurry of silk strands, grasping, entangling languid paramour with the silent begging, the whispers of longing, moans of deceit. More, more, more! Elusive creature, Monster of avid affections, the immaculate tongues of angels doth traverse, wander over perfected flesh and flawless gaze. Honeyed, dewy under the gaze of watchful, observant eye spying havoc upon little light. Tears of malice, of sanguine wine upon the bare of fair porcelain back, china cracked and irrevocably repaired over the span of years. Still, the imperfection lies, nestled endearingly upon the slight dip betwixt lithe, feminine shoulders.

Many have always questioned the carnal shape of a beast, the glorious platinum gleam, swathed in the porcelain fur that covers his stilt-like legs. His eyes are sharpened into ice-like fervor which pierce the moons gaze with an attentive precision granted by the animalistic instincts which so furiously take one over.

Eyes so cold. A body so fragile it looks like glass...the man is sometimes mistaken for a doll, soft to the touch and pretty to look at...a flaw in his design? Or perhaps a genius evolution of the monster. After all, who would fear a dark creature if it were disguised as an angel?

Personality: Oh tortured soul, a heart once pure of gold ; Sorrow and grief have tarnished a once pure hope with the intoxicating bite of poisoned hate. Lethargic, the enigmatic presence bleeds through, corrupting, tearing asunder the perfected veil of purity and allowing the burning gire to seep within stalwart grace. It claws, digs to fester and bury deep under the skin, glissading skeletal fingers through malign carcass to permeate and destroy the innocence lost in cruel rapture.

Though radiant and scorching upon first approach, malignant and vexing in a glance, there is still an unwavering kindness about his soul. Though he may try to be harsh, to be a thorough monstrosity for the simple sake of survival, he is unable, incapable within his programming to destroy so freely, to act so harshly to those who he seeks to bestow mercy even in her self imposed path to destroy himself.

Loss was something that never truly heals, an instigating pain that is never satiated by the passing ripples of time as so many assure. Comforting lies are not sweetly fallen from his cherub lips, only bitter truths of the melodious affliction that slowly eats away at the spirit and weakens the body, the mind into numb paralysis. It was like a neuron-toxic. Slowly, surely he shuts down, the dim flicker within his gaze dulling, dying with each passing day. A raging fire nothing more but smoldering embers.

No confidence, no self-preservation lingers within him, though his masquerade hides well what lay 'neath the surface where he furiously struggles to simply stay afloat. Sleep eludes him, staying just a single step, tauntingly out of his desperate grasp some nights. It leaves his thoughts raw, each one like raking nails over open flesh to claw at the nerves hidden just out of sight. His mind is cruel, a sick repetition of the traumatic night playing without mercy in each dream he dares to seek. No longer does he yearn for the escape of reality, no longer does he wish to open his eyes to a new day, another wretched moment within this existence. A once pure and holy thing was stripped bare, ravaged ruthlessly by those that would see him broken; his hope. The loyal optimism had been torn from his youthful frame, a far more devastating occurrence than that which marred his flesh. His body had mended, healed and all that remained upon it was the thin, ropy scar. Childish wonder and bemusement, however, had been slain in cold blood, a murder most foul.

Sweet angel of darkness...just how far will you fall?

Goals & Plot Ideas: Mainly going for almost anything with this character though he will mainly be aligned with criminal activity by getting into bad crowds and such.

Notes: Claire is known to have a high functioning form of autism and suffers greatly from a number of things such as an inability to function in large crowds, loud noises, flashing bright lights and a number of debilitating quirks such as a unshakable need to finish everything he may start such as puzzles, projects or in most cases assignments from school. He also suffers from horrific panic and anxiety attacks which can leave him clutching his chest and gasping for air, straining his sight and damaging his ability to form complete sentences as he gains a stutter which prevents him from speaking. He is also blind as a bat without his glasses and can easily be taken advantage of by those around him~


OOC

Player Name: Royal
Art Source: MissN of fA
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Naxx
 Posted: May 28 2018, 04:11 AM


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I'm Played By Naxx
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36 YEARS OLD

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