2010-02-26, 05:48 AM
(This post was last modified: 2010-02-26, 06:05 AM by TøbiasBlack.)
Name: Tobias
Age: is said to be 18
Gender: Male
Weapon type: Scythe
Weapon Name: Equinox
~~~
Physical Attributes:
5'11"
140 lbs.
Brown/green eye. (Brown on the outer area, green along the rim of the pupil) Only has one eye, the left. a long scar starting from above the brow ending underneath the cheek bone on the right side, cutting through his eye-socket. Always seen with a plain black eye patch.
Black hair. Long.
White nails. painted, by choice.
Pale skin tone.
Thin frame, average build.
Goatee. no other facial hair.
~~~
The music playing from his speakers were set to the loudest setting possible. It helped him to think. This was a new town, a whole new world even, and he was going to go into it willingly. He stood in his new room, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His hair, a long ratty mess, unkempt and tangled in knots. He had planned to shower before he left home for Shinto, but there were other things more pertinent to him at the time. There were things that needed to be taken care of. Loose ends that needed to be trimmed, and he made sure that each and every thread was cut loose. Everyone, and everything he once had cherished, all his friends, all his past belongings, all left behind.
He stood in front of the mirror, laying his hands on the frame and glaring into the face he saw. The eye he saw was tired and full of regrets, full of misery and despair. That eye had seen more viles and evils than any human being, even one gifted like him, should bear the burden of seeing. His right eye, a gaping hole in his head, taken from him in a cold brutal night. He stood there, lowering his head and staring long into the mirror, into the face he saw.
He knew that wasn't his face. His face was not worn down, was not bitter and cold, devoid of emotion. He was still the charismatic young man from his home. His mother and father would greet him every day after returning from school, and they would sit together every evening and eat dinner together. It was a real picture-esque scene. He had that life once. He was smart, intelligent, and very happy with the world. He had learned to speak several languages, and even learned how to play two musical instruments, the violin and the flute. He was kind, helping others and never asking for anything in return. His hair was tight and tidy, not a loch out of place and not a hair misplaced. His grades in school were among the top in his class. He was happy.
Then, one night, all the joy, and all the greatness he had, turned on him. Gunfire. The bang of thunder and the crash of glass, the echo's still shaking the back of his memories. Many things laid back in the recesses of his head. Terrible things. Seeing his mother and father, dead on the living room floor. Their killer was rummaging through the display case, stealing anything that he could get a hold of. He saw the boy, and the criminal raised his pistol to the child. The child, he was scared, and he was shocked, but not once was he aware of the darkness that laid inside him. The darkness that he was destined to bear.
Bang, and the next moment, he was lurched over the criminals dead body, his blood splattered all along the walls, all across his face and his pajamas. The boy was broken, his mind snapping and cracking like the fragile glass that littered the floor of his family home. He looked down and saw many deep gashes carved out of the man. There were deep incisions all across his face, all across his chest, his exposed ribs and beating heart pulsing out rivulets of blood that spattered onto the floor. The boy cried.
He looked up from the mirror, seeing his hands gripping the faded white paneling. He saw his hands, tightly clenching the wood, grabbing onto them for support. Support, inside he laughed, was one thing his life was not allotted to have. His nails were painted ivory white, in contrast to his past. He had many flaws and quirks, personal issues others had said. After his parents were killed, and after he committed his first murder, his mind began to unravel. Slowly, but surely, he was starting to fade to Black.
"Black," he said. "Black," the voice in the mirror called out, "thats what we are now, that is our name." The voice; throughout all his teenage years, he was alone, except for the voice. He was alone, adrift in the world in the vessal of his own body, but no matter what, the voice was always there. It called out to him, spoke to him, comforted him, gave him the advice he needed to thrive, gave him the courage he needed to survive. When the Black spoke, Tobias listened. Tobias always listened to the Black.
There was a time when Black gave way to the White. From time to time, White guided Tobias. He was kinder, gentler. White was calm, cool, and at peace. White, he had decided, was the Tobias of his youth, the one that wasn't broken that night. White was the shadow to Black, but hidden and mute. White, his nails were all he had to remind himself that he was inside of him, all Tobias had to recall White by. Black never did like White, but Tobias was in control. Tobias was both Black and White.
The lights outside his mirror started to glow. He turned away from them, from himself, and returned to the world outside. His room was dim, bare, plain. The walls were painted grey, with not a single thing on them. No posters, no pictures, nothing. All his room was was a bed, the door, and his window. The few effects of his past that he carried with him were away, hidden. He knew that he would need to cast them aside for the mission to go as it needed.
Since the day of his parents funeral, he started to see... things. Tobias was young, alone, an orphan. He was sent from home to home, and everywhere he went, he could see them. Demons he was taught to call them by. Demons following him, taunting him. Black warned him against the demons, that they were evil, they needed to be destroyed. White gave no words of warning, saying only they were powers not meant for this world. He could see them, in the day, at night, alone at home when he was reading, when he was at school; they were as real to him as Black and White. He had seen the demons. He knew they were real, despite others not seeing them.
When he turned 13, another tragedy. Tobias was struck by one of the demons. His face was clawed, his right eye slashed out by the demon. To everyone else, he was suddenly and unexplainably cut. His eye was lost, and his wound never fully healed. A scar still streaks across his eye, a reminder that the demons are real. Real, he thought; what exactly is real? His sanity was breaking more and more. He was isolated, alone, just Tobias, Black, White, and the demons. He knew there was something wrong, but he could never figure out what. He had long since forgotten his familial name, long since discarded.
He sat down on the bed, and simply looked up at the ceiling. He was free from that life, free from that world. Here, maybe, things would be different. He was going to transfer to a new school, start a new life for himself. Here the demons wouldn't be able to get him. Here, he was calm. Here, White was happy. Alone, he and White, together in his new room. He looked over and looked outside. The clock outside showed the time to be 1 am. Here, he had hoped, to gain an understanding. He wanted peace.
"Tobias?"
"Yes White?"
"Are you certain this is where your fate has taken you to? Are you sure you haven't made any mistakes?"
"I'm sure, White." He leaned over on his side, the bed was hard and firm. He was comfortable. "If nothing else, if I wont be able to escape the demons, then maybe, maybe..." his voice droned out of tone, as he stared at his bare wall. He got up and went to his closet, and reached inside. He grabbed two long bags and laid them out on the floor. One, after unzipping, revealed the violin he took with him when he left home. The last memory of his parents. The last momento he had to their love for him.
In the other bag, he pulled out a long scythe. the blade was blackened and sharp. There were intricate designs on the steel of the blade, as if the fires of hell moved eternally across the sheen, across the gleam of the silver. This was his tool. This is the legacy he obtained from Black. This, was his Equinox.
"If nothing else, White, then at least, we have this." He pulled the scythe gently out of its bag, and admired the craftmanship that went into the creation of his blade, his scythe, Equinox.
"That is a weapon, Tobias. I know you've used this before, to slay the demons. We are aware of your actions, Tobi."
He scoffed, and a grin slashed across his face. Tobias recalled the first moment Equinox appeared. He remembered it. A demon was approaching him, attempting to slay him and his then guardian mother. He never saw her as his mother, but she saw herself as his mother. The demon, it lunged forward with its claws and attempted to slash through the womans yellow blouse, attempting to kill her. He reached out, and suddenly a long black pole slowly came into focus in his hands. He was 14, one year after losing his eye, he had finally obtained a tool to defeat the demons. He swung the pole strongly, and struck the demon in the chest. The woman, his guardian-mother, screamed in terror at seeing her adopted son suddenly create a long pole out of nothingness.
He stared long into the blade, remembering his first kill. He glared at it, the darkness in his mind brewing, starting to stir. He felt a heat rise in his chest. Loudly, Tobias let out a loud, sinister laugh. The stereo was no longer playing music, the mirror no longer shaking. The air was no longer still, the room was no longer empty. Tobias was surrounded by a dark force, laughing out loud, clutching his weapon tightly. He was going to reconcile himself, he knew. He knew coming to Shinto would help him to get a grasp of his power, an understanding. He laughed at his past, and his uncertain future. Black, he thought, would have enjoyed to see him like that...
sorry if its a bit long... i tend to be long winded. =|
if anything is needed to be explained in detail... just ask. i kinda already anticipate something.
Though, its not touched on here, i think it need be said:
He does not trust many people, and does not make any visible attempt at being social. He is a transfer student from an entirely other nation, so this makes sense. He is smart, he studies a lot and knows the language, but only enough to get by. When speaking to others, he will use simple speech patterns. as indicated his sanity is frail, so his emotions are eratic and polar, in that when he is happy, it tends to be hidden behind a stoic expression; when he is angry, he usually becomes very infuriated and oft times will lose himself to his rage.
He likes to play music. it helps him to silence the many voices in his head, especially Black and White. It is when he is playing an instrument when he will reveal his real self: a calm, well mannered guy. He is very humble, and generally kind. This calm lasts for a variable amount of time after he stops playing. While in shinto, he finds and picks up a bass guitar and starts to learn how to play that. The bass, he feels, is deeper.
also, the above scene takes place a week before the events that started Shinto unfolded. he has to have time to prepare, right? get some furniture, new clothes, school clothes, so on and so on.
Age: is said to be 18
Gender: Male
Weapon type: Scythe
Weapon Name: Equinox
~~~
Physical Attributes:
5'11"
140 lbs.
Brown/green eye. (Brown on the outer area, green along the rim of the pupil) Only has one eye, the left. a long scar starting from above the brow ending underneath the cheek bone on the right side, cutting through his eye-socket. Always seen with a plain black eye patch.
Black hair. Long.
White nails. painted, by choice.
Pale skin tone.
Thin frame, average build.
Goatee. no other facial hair.
~~~
The music playing from his speakers were set to the loudest setting possible. It helped him to think. This was a new town, a whole new world even, and he was going to go into it willingly. He stood in his new room, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His hair, a long ratty mess, unkempt and tangled in knots. He had planned to shower before he left home for Shinto, but there were other things more pertinent to him at the time. There were things that needed to be taken care of. Loose ends that needed to be trimmed, and he made sure that each and every thread was cut loose. Everyone, and everything he once had cherished, all his friends, all his past belongings, all left behind.
He stood in front of the mirror, laying his hands on the frame and glaring into the face he saw. The eye he saw was tired and full of regrets, full of misery and despair. That eye had seen more viles and evils than any human being, even one gifted like him, should bear the burden of seeing. His right eye, a gaping hole in his head, taken from him in a cold brutal night. He stood there, lowering his head and staring long into the mirror, into the face he saw.
He knew that wasn't his face. His face was not worn down, was not bitter and cold, devoid of emotion. He was still the charismatic young man from his home. His mother and father would greet him every day after returning from school, and they would sit together every evening and eat dinner together. It was a real picture-esque scene. He had that life once. He was smart, intelligent, and very happy with the world. He had learned to speak several languages, and even learned how to play two musical instruments, the violin and the flute. He was kind, helping others and never asking for anything in return. His hair was tight and tidy, not a loch out of place and not a hair misplaced. His grades in school were among the top in his class. He was happy.
Then, one night, all the joy, and all the greatness he had, turned on him. Gunfire. The bang of thunder and the crash of glass, the echo's still shaking the back of his memories. Many things laid back in the recesses of his head. Terrible things. Seeing his mother and father, dead on the living room floor. Their killer was rummaging through the display case, stealing anything that he could get a hold of. He saw the boy, and the criminal raised his pistol to the child. The child, he was scared, and he was shocked, but not once was he aware of the darkness that laid inside him. The darkness that he was destined to bear.
Bang, and the next moment, he was lurched over the criminals dead body, his blood splattered all along the walls, all across his face and his pajamas. The boy was broken, his mind snapping and cracking like the fragile glass that littered the floor of his family home. He looked down and saw many deep gashes carved out of the man. There were deep incisions all across his face, all across his chest, his exposed ribs and beating heart pulsing out rivulets of blood that spattered onto the floor. The boy cried.
He looked up from the mirror, seeing his hands gripping the faded white paneling. He saw his hands, tightly clenching the wood, grabbing onto them for support. Support, inside he laughed, was one thing his life was not allotted to have. His nails were painted ivory white, in contrast to his past. He had many flaws and quirks, personal issues others had said. After his parents were killed, and after he committed his first murder, his mind began to unravel. Slowly, but surely, he was starting to fade to Black.
"Black," he said. "Black," the voice in the mirror called out, "thats what we are now, that is our name." The voice; throughout all his teenage years, he was alone, except for the voice. He was alone, adrift in the world in the vessal of his own body, but no matter what, the voice was always there. It called out to him, spoke to him, comforted him, gave him the advice he needed to thrive, gave him the courage he needed to survive. When the Black spoke, Tobias listened. Tobias always listened to the Black.
There was a time when Black gave way to the White. From time to time, White guided Tobias. He was kinder, gentler. White was calm, cool, and at peace. White, he had decided, was the Tobias of his youth, the one that wasn't broken that night. White was the shadow to Black, but hidden and mute. White, his nails were all he had to remind himself that he was inside of him, all Tobias had to recall White by. Black never did like White, but Tobias was in control. Tobias was both Black and White.
The lights outside his mirror started to glow. He turned away from them, from himself, and returned to the world outside. His room was dim, bare, plain. The walls were painted grey, with not a single thing on them. No posters, no pictures, nothing. All his room was was a bed, the door, and his window. The few effects of his past that he carried with him were away, hidden. He knew that he would need to cast them aside for the mission to go as it needed.
Since the day of his parents funeral, he started to see... things. Tobias was young, alone, an orphan. He was sent from home to home, and everywhere he went, he could see them. Demons he was taught to call them by. Demons following him, taunting him. Black warned him against the demons, that they were evil, they needed to be destroyed. White gave no words of warning, saying only they were powers not meant for this world. He could see them, in the day, at night, alone at home when he was reading, when he was at school; they were as real to him as Black and White. He had seen the demons. He knew they were real, despite others not seeing them.
When he turned 13, another tragedy. Tobias was struck by one of the demons. His face was clawed, his right eye slashed out by the demon. To everyone else, he was suddenly and unexplainably cut. His eye was lost, and his wound never fully healed. A scar still streaks across his eye, a reminder that the demons are real. Real, he thought; what exactly is real? His sanity was breaking more and more. He was isolated, alone, just Tobias, Black, White, and the demons. He knew there was something wrong, but he could never figure out what. He had long since forgotten his familial name, long since discarded.
He sat down on the bed, and simply looked up at the ceiling. He was free from that life, free from that world. Here, maybe, things would be different. He was going to transfer to a new school, start a new life for himself. Here the demons wouldn't be able to get him. Here, he was calm. Here, White was happy. Alone, he and White, together in his new room. He looked over and looked outside. The clock outside showed the time to be 1 am. Here, he had hoped, to gain an understanding. He wanted peace.
"Tobias?"
"Yes White?"
"Are you certain this is where your fate has taken you to? Are you sure you haven't made any mistakes?"
"I'm sure, White." He leaned over on his side, the bed was hard and firm. He was comfortable. "If nothing else, if I wont be able to escape the demons, then maybe, maybe..." his voice droned out of tone, as he stared at his bare wall. He got up and went to his closet, and reached inside. He grabbed two long bags and laid them out on the floor. One, after unzipping, revealed the violin he took with him when he left home. The last memory of his parents. The last momento he had to their love for him.
In the other bag, he pulled out a long scythe. the blade was blackened and sharp. There were intricate designs on the steel of the blade, as if the fires of hell moved eternally across the sheen, across the gleam of the silver. This was his tool. This is the legacy he obtained from Black. This, was his Equinox.
"If nothing else, White, then at least, we have this." He pulled the scythe gently out of its bag, and admired the craftmanship that went into the creation of his blade, his scythe, Equinox.
"That is a weapon, Tobias. I know you've used this before, to slay the demons. We are aware of your actions, Tobi."
He scoffed, and a grin slashed across his face. Tobias recalled the first moment Equinox appeared. He remembered it. A demon was approaching him, attempting to slay him and his then guardian mother. He never saw her as his mother, but she saw herself as his mother. The demon, it lunged forward with its claws and attempted to slash through the womans yellow blouse, attempting to kill her. He reached out, and suddenly a long black pole slowly came into focus in his hands. He was 14, one year after losing his eye, he had finally obtained a tool to defeat the demons. He swung the pole strongly, and struck the demon in the chest. The woman, his guardian-mother, screamed in terror at seeing her adopted son suddenly create a long pole out of nothingness.
He stared long into the blade, remembering his first kill. He glared at it, the darkness in his mind brewing, starting to stir. He felt a heat rise in his chest. Loudly, Tobias let out a loud, sinister laugh. The stereo was no longer playing music, the mirror no longer shaking. The air was no longer still, the room was no longer empty. Tobias was surrounded by a dark force, laughing out loud, clutching his weapon tightly. He was going to reconcile himself, he knew. He knew coming to Shinto would help him to get a grasp of his power, an understanding. He laughed at his past, and his uncertain future. Black, he thought, would have enjoyed to see him like that...
sorry if its a bit long... i tend to be long winded. =|
if anything is needed to be explained in detail... just ask. i kinda already anticipate something.
Though, its not touched on here, i think it need be said:
He does not trust many people, and does not make any visible attempt at being social. He is a transfer student from an entirely other nation, so this makes sense. He is smart, he studies a lot and knows the language, but only enough to get by. When speaking to others, he will use simple speech patterns. as indicated his sanity is frail, so his emotions are eratic and polar, in that when he is happy, it tends to be hidden behind a stoic expression; when he is angry, he usually becomes very infuriated and oft times will lose himself to his rage.
He likes to play music. it helps him to silence the many voices in his head, especially Black and White. It is when he is playing an instrument when he will reveal his real self: a calm, well mannered guy. He is very humble, and generally kind. This calm lasts for a variable amount of time after he stops playing. While in shinto, he finds and picks up a bass guitar and starts to learn how to play that. The bass, he feels, is deeper.
also, the above scene takes place a week before the events that started Shinto unfolded. he has to have time to prepare, right? get some furniture, new clothes, school clothes, so on and so on.