Post by athos on Jan 9, 2011 17:20:47 GMT -5
Hi, my name is Merrill and this is my second character. Something you should know about me is I've lit crotches on fire.
Canon: The Three Musketeers by the awesome Alexandre Dumas.
Custom Title: The Bitter One
PHYSICAL
Age: Thirty years old.
Gender: Male.
Appearance: Athos is on the tall side, but he also holds himself with an air of honor which aides him in appearing even taller. He is a handsome man that applies very well to the known description “tall, dark, and mysterious” and can easily contain his emotions. Whether it’s fortune or misfortune he comes across, he can keep his face stoic and calm. It is not often you'll see him laugh, but a smile will appear on his face if you say the right thing.
Height: Nearly six feet tall.
Body: He is lean, but muscular.
Other distinguishing features: He has a scar on his upper right arm from a bar brawl.
Wardrobe: He prefers to appear as tidy as possible. He can go super casual with a tee and a pair of jeans, but he can also wear expensive three pieces.[/ul]
Play By: Ethan Hawke (at thirty years).
PERSONALITY
General personality: Athos can be easily described as one word, withdrawn. Seldom does he give any input to a conversation, but when he does, he doesn’t embellish or exaggerate. He prefers honesty and can seem a little cynical. He would rather be a realist than indulge himself with lies and hopes. This resulted with him being more than a little pessimistic. He has a sense of humor, but it often comes across as sarcastic and dry.
Another aspect to Athos’s personality is that he’s very loyal to his friends and will never turn against them. That being said, he only defends the more just cause, and at times, this will conflict with his loyalty to friends. This is where his leadership qualities come in. Most people look upon him as a leader and if they knew him well enough, they would know that he won’t state something without being sure of himself. Therefore, he’ll do his best to convince his followers what side he thinks is best.
Though he never was a very successful student or lawyer, he is definitely intelligent. He won’t act rashly, nor will he act on pure instincts. He’ll reason with the possibilities and will choose the one that is more suitable.
Quotes, frequently used expressions: "That's all trifles, mere trifles." "Parbleu!" or any other French exclamation in general, as in "Sacrébleu!" and "Morbleu!"
Likes:
Dislikes:
Strengths: Athos is a very loyal, cunning and he believes in honor. He’ll side with the most equitable cause, even if it puts him in unpleasant situations. He is an excellent gunman, and he is one of the best.
Weaknesses: Alcohol. He drinks it to drown his sorrows and when he does drink, he consumes a lot. When he is very drunk, he’s been known to tell “ludicrous” tales; but as it turns out, these tales aren’t as ludicrous as they seem, especially the one about the “fair, blond woman and an old friend of his”. Second, Athos has a very sour look on life. He isn’t the most friendliest person and can come off as dry and sarcastic. Third, ever since the supposed death of his first wife, he's been incapable of falling in love. He cannot bear thinking about going through history for a second time.
BACKGROUND
Family: His mother, Sybille de la Fère (née Normandeau), remains in New Orleans, Louisiana. She is a lovely woman who works as a secretary for Virgin Oil. His father, Henri, was a lawyer and he died when Athos was seventeen years old, but he left a large sum of money in Athos' name. Athos is directly descended from French, to explain the name, and he grew up in a culture greatly influenced by the French.
Education: He attended public school and he has attained a bachelor's degree.
Occupation: He was a college student in Louisiana; and in New York, he found work as a cop.
Worst past experience: When he realized that he killed his wife.
Best past experience: When he first met Anne de Breuil.
Image: Those who do not know him well are liable to perceive him as reserved, cynical man, an officer tied to his duty. Those who know him as a friend will know of his intelligence and leadership skills, but a rather realist man.
History:
Athos grew up in a small town located in Louisiana with his mother and father. His family were devout Catholics, but Athos considers himself an atheist. The family were pretty well off, with his father a lawyer and his mother a well-paid secretary. He didn’t particularly do well in his primary education, or throughout his secondary education, at that thought. He graduated with a decent mark and went on to an expensive college, paying the expenses with the money his father left him.
Though he didn’t apply himself to school well, there was no doubt he was an intelligent and cunning fellow. It was near the end of his first year in law school when he met a young woman, Anne de Breuil, recently graduated out of high school. She was a beautiful woman; young, strong, and independent. Athos fell in love with her and the couple married three years later, when he was twenty.
They lived together for a year, and Athos considered that period the prime of his life. However, the happiness did not last very long. He'd graduated and was perusing the area for a job. Anne was acting more suspicious every time he would see her, and each time was becoming less frequent. It seemed, after a period of time, the only time he would see her was in the morning and for a brief time after he came home from his police training. Eventually, he made a decision to investigate.
His investigation didn’t take him very far, for Anne was very cunning about the whole ‘affair’. She knew him all too well to make any mistakes. It wasn’t until he unexpectedly came home early from a hunting trip that he discovered a set of clothing, scattered across his floor. They were a man’s garments, and they were not his. His notions were no longer aroused, but well-confirmed. He no longer had any doubt of what Anne was doing. Instead of acting on instinct, he drove to the nearest pub and drowned his fury with alcohol. He remained in the pub until eleven and left without a word.
In a drunken stupor, Athos returned home and discovered his wife in their bed, asleep. He dug out a pistol from the depths of his closet and shot the beautiful woman. The firing of the pistol seemed to have sobered him as well, because he fled the scene with anger and fear in his heart.
His father, when alive, had many connections and were considered old family friends. Through these connections, Athos was able to escape his small town, from his wife supposedly dead and took the first flight to New York. New York, specifically, because he had an old college buddy he could live with until he could afford his own apartment.
Months later, he gained a permanent residence in the glamorous city and was finishing his time at the police academy. He was twenty-two when he graduated the academy and joined the NYPD. Nothing very eventful happened in the following years. Though his job required frequent shift changes, his routine was quite regular. At thirty years, he has been promoted to Police Detective.
As for his wife's murder, he was able to escape arrest and suspicion through his connections and he has no will to hear anymore of this incident.
THE SAMPLE
In Character Sample:
Athos stared into his reflection, his own eyes burning through himself. He couldn't help wincing at the creaky noise the tap made when he gingerly twisted it open. A fast stream of cool water streamed from the tap and filled the sink with a small lake of the frigid liquid. He cupped his hands, gathered a handful of water, and doused his face. Despite the burst of cold water, his face remained with the sensation of being aflame. He ran a hand, frozen from the water, through his hair and shook his head. Tiny drops speckled the mirror and the walls.
His gaze caught his reflection in the mirror for a second time, and regardless the fact he'd already washed his face, he could almost imagine the remaining beads of blood, slithering down his face like the water down the mirror. He concluded that he must still be drunk; for he had already washed his face twice. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping this nightmare would go away. No matter how much he tried convincing himself, the fact remained that there was an empty pistol wrapped in cloths on his desk and a warm cadaver in his bed.
Go.
The thought echoed through his mind, hardly registering. If he left, he had a chance of meeting up with that old lawyer friend of his father's and find a way to leave town. However, the police would immediately hunt him down if he left the state or the country. As he was never that great of a liar, he knew he'd have no chance with the police. His mind blurred with memories of gunfire and a pool of blood forming in the cotton sheets. There was no other way.
Athos killed the engine and sat in the seat as he waited for the vehicle to die down. The headlights dulled to the point of no light. Silence was only heard. He rubbed his forehead and stared at the prodigious mansion looming above him. The place was quite grand and he recollected old memories of running down the corridors when he was a young boy. René Renault was almost like a second father to Athos, and is a great man.
He ambled down the driveway, and resisted shivering in his thin coat. He knew that the old man wouldn't take the late hour very well, regardless of the incident. Athos also knew that it wasn't the moment to think of that. Nor was it the moment to think about Anne, but he couldn't help it.
He wasn't sure whether it was the woman's fault or not. It was all too true that death was something no one deserved and murder was a sin. Wasn't adultery, as well? In this particular situation, he would take any reasoning to help him realize what he did wouldn't put him in hell for eternity. The truth was blatant, but he couldn't bear to think of it.
The large, wooden door was opened five minutes after Athos knocked on it. René's face filled the small crack and the wrinkled face crumpled with surprise. "Athos, my dear boy!" he exclaimed, opening the door further to let the outsider in. "What brings you here at this hour?" The old man shut the door with an audible click.
Athos surveyed the room and bit his lip. The well-furnished room was a lot darker than he'd ever seen it before. "I need help," he replied, "and I need it fast, mon ami." He walked near a soft emerald green armchair and sank into it.
"What troubles you?" replied René, fiddling with his dark chocolate robe. His face was full of question. "You know I'd do anything for you, but I need some kind of a reason."
Athos pondered this. "My wife." He paused. "René, she is dead. Capot."
"Did y-"
"Yes." Athos pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. "Parbleu, I didn't mean to, really. I was drunk an'-"
"Spare me your excuses," René stated, his French accent thickening. He waved his hand. His dark blue eyes presented a shroud of confusion and pity. "I know you're a good guy. Athos, your father and I were really good friends and I like to think you as a good friend, too. I never did like that wife, as pretty as she is, but she was, uh, quite overzealous in many aspects."
Athos knew what the man was implying, and he had no input to this branch of the conversation. René took this as an inclination to continue. "I'm not sayin' that she deserved to die," he said, "but I do think you're better off."
Athos bit back the anger and stood up, his face burning. Ambivalent emotions were conflicting within him and he could hardly think of anything but the bloody remains of his wife. He did love his wife, and for a while, he was sure that she loved him back; but, that never stopped her from hanging around other men and more than once he suspected of her sleeping with him. At the time, he wasn't brave enough to intrigue her.
"Will you help me?" he asked with finality and exasperation in his tone. He was able to keep the emotions under control and hoped his visage was stony. "I know that'd put you in a risk of sorts, but I really need to leave. I promise you that I sure as hell wasn't thinking when I came home drunk. I can't even rem-"
"You're blubbering, mon garçon," René said, his face soft. "I'm old and I never did care too much for the government or law. They can't do anything to me I'll regret."
Athos sighed and stood up. "Merci, René, I am much obliged," he said, starting for the door. He winced when he noticed the silky red curtains. They were a gift for René and his wife's anniversary and Anne had picked them out. That day was such a golden moment. The picnic and the evening's dinner was scrumptious, the two of them had indulged themselves. Anne would no longer be able to indulge herself they way they had that beautiful August day. She was dead.
The guilt was pulsing through his body like a heartbeat and he felt his stomach sick. The urge to vomit was strong and he could hardly maintain himself. It was killing him. Divorce would have been more reasonable, wouldn't it? He knew it was too true. He clamped his jaw shut and leaned against a bureau for support. He promised himself that he wouldn't ever drink again. He wasn't sure if he could without acting rash.
"Athos," René said from behind the sickened man. "You're better off."
Note: The sample is a little rushed because I didn't want to spend a lot of time on it when I have other posts to tend to. If anything conflicts, please warn me.
Olivier d'Athos de la Fère
| High Class |
| High Class |
Canon: The Three Musketeers by the awesome Alexandre Dumas.
Custom Title: The Bitter One
PHYSICAL
Age: Thirty years old.
Gender: Male.
Appearance: Athos is on the tall side, but he also holds himself with an air of honor which aides him in appearing even taller. He is a handsome man that applies very well to the known description “tall, dark, and mysterious” and can easily contain his emotions. Whether it’s fortune or misfortune he comes across, he can keep his face stoic and calm. It is not often you'll see him laugh, but a smile will appear on his face if you say the right thing.
Height: Nearly six feet tall.
Body: He is lean, but muscular.
Other distinguishing features: He has a scar on his upper right arm from a bar brawl.
Wardrobe: He prefers to appear as tidy as possible. He can go super casual with a tee and a pair of jeans, but he can also wear expensive three pieces.[/ul]
Play By: Ethan Hawke (at thirty years).
PERSONALITY
General personality: Athos can be easily described as one word, withdrawn. Seldom does he give any input to a conversation, but when he does, he doesn’t embellish or exaggerate. He prefers honesty and can seem a little cynical. He would rather be a realist than indulge himself with lies and hopes. This resulted with him being more than a little pessimistic. He has a sense of humor, but it often comes across as sarcastic and dry.
Another aspect to Athos’s personality is that he’s very loyal to his friends and will never turn against them. That being said, he only defends the more just cause, and at times, this will conflict with his loyalty to friends. This is where his leadership qualities come in. Most people look upon him as a leader and if they knew him well enough, they would know that he won’t state something without being sure of himself. Therefore, he’ll do his best to convince his followers what side he thinks is best.
Though he never was a very successful student or lawyer, he is definitely intelligent. He won’t act rashly, nor will he act on pure instincts. He’ll reason with the possibilities and will choose the one that is more suitable.
Quotes, frequently used expressions: "That's all trifles, mere trifles." "Parbleu!" or any other French exclamation in general, as in "Sacrébleu!" and "Morbleu!"
Likes:
- hunting
- his dog, Grimaud. The dog has been trained to obey mere signals of Athos’s hand.
- art
- alcohol, it helps him sleep at night.
- playing the piano
- smoking
Dislikes:
- foolish notions about love. He’s not keen on women in that department, either.
- betrayal
- unfaithfulness
- alcohol, it makes him something he's not.
Strengths: Athos is a very loyal, cunning and he believes in honor. He’ll side with the most equitable cause, even if it puts him in unpleasant situations. He is an excellent gunman, and he is one of the best.
Weaknesses: Alcohol. He drinks it to drown his sorrows and when he does drink, he consumes a lot. When he is very drunk, he’s been known to tell “ludicrous” tales; but as it turns out, these tales aren’t as ludicrous as they seem, especially the one about the “fair, blond woman and an old friend of his”. Second, Athos has a very sour look on life. He isn’t the most friendliest person and can come off as dry and sarcastic. Third, ever since the supposed death of his first wife, he's been incapable of falling in love. He cannot bear thinking about going through history for a second time.
BACKGROUND
Family: His mother, Sybille de la Fère (née Normandeau), remains in New Orleans, Louisiana. She is a lovely woman who works as a secretary for Virgin Oil. His father, Henri, was a lawyer and he died when Athos was seventeen years old, but he left a large sum of money in Athos' name. Athos is directly descended from French, to explain the name, and he grew up in a culture greatly influenced by the French.
Education: He attended public school and he has attained a bachelor's degree.
Occupation: He was a college student in Louisiana; and in New York, he found work as a cop.
Worst past experience: When he realized that he killed his wife.
Best past experience: When he first met Anne de Breuil.
Image: Those who do not know him well are liable to perceive him as reserved, cynical man, an officer tied to his duty. Those who know him as a friend will know of his intelligence and leadership skills, but a rather realist man.
History:
Athos grew up in a small town located in Louisiana with his mother and father. His family were devout Catholics, but Athos considers himself an atheist. The family were pretty well off, with his father a lawyer and his mother a well-paid secretary. He didn’t particularly do well in his primary education, or throughout his secondary education, at that thought. He graduated with a decent mark and went on to an expensive college, paying the expenses with the money his father left him.
Though he didn’t apply himself to school well, there was no doubt he was an intelligent and cunning fellow. It was near the end of his first year in law school when he met a young woman, Anne de Breuil, recently graduated out of high school. She was a beautiful woman; young, strong, and independent. Athos fell in love with her and the couple married three years later, when he was twenty.
They lived together for a year, and Athos considered that period the prime of his life. However, the happiness did not last very long. He'd graduated and was perusing the area for a job. Anne was acting more suspicious every time he would see her, and each time was becoming less frequent. It seemed, after a period of time, the only time he would see her was in the morning and for a brief time after he came home from his police training. Eventually, he made a decision to investigate.
His investigation didn’t take him very far, for Anne was very cunning about the whole ‘affair’. She knew him all too well to make any mistakes. It wasn’t until he unexpectedly came home early from a hunting trip that he discovered a set of clothing, scattered across his floor. They were a man’s garments, and they were not his. His notions were no longer aroused, but well-confirmed. He no longer had any doubt of what Anne was doing. Instead of acting on instinct, he drove to the nearest pub and drowned his fury with alcohol. He remained in the pub until eleven and left without a word.
In a drunken stupor, Athos returned home and discovered his wife in their bed, asleep. He dug out a pistol from the depths of his closet and shot the beautiful woman. The firing of the pistol seemed to have sobered him as well, because he fled the scene with anger and fear in his heart.
His father, when alive, had many connections and were considered old family friends. Through these connections, Athos was able to escape his small town, from his wife supposedly dead and took the first flight to New York. New York, specifically, because he had an old college buddy he could live with until he could afford his own apartment.
Months later, he gained a permanent residence in the glamorous city and was finishing his time at the police academy. He was twenty-two when he graduated the academy and joined the NYPD. Nothing very eventful happened in the following years. Though his job required frequent shift changes, his routine was quite regular. At thirty years, he has been promoted to Police Detective.
As for his wife's murder, he was able to escape arrest and suspicion through his connections and he has no will to hear anymore of this incident.
THE SAMPLE
In Character Sample:
Athos stared into his reflection, his own eyes burning through himself. He couldn't help wincing at the creaky noise the tap made when he gingerly twisted it open. A fast stream of cool water streamed from the tap and filled the sink with a small lake of the frigid liquid. He cupped his hands, gathered a handful of water, and doused his face. Despite the burst of cold water, his face remained with the sensation of being aflame. He ran a hand, frozen from the water, through his hair and shook his head. Tiny drops speckled the mirror and the walls.
His gaze caught his reflection in the mirror for a second time, and regardless the fact he'd already washed his face, he could almost imagine the remaining beads of blood, slithering down his face like the water down the mirror. He concluded that he must still be drunk; for he had already washed his face twice. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping this nightmare would go away. No matter how much he tried convincing himself, the fact remained that there was an empty pistol wrapped in cloths on his desk and a warm cadaver in his bed.
Go.
The thought echoed through his mind, hardly registering. If he left, he had a chance of meeting up with that old lawyer friend of his father's and find a way to leave town. However, the police would immediately hunt him down if he left the state or the country. As he was never that great of a liar, he knew he'd have no chance with the police. His mind blurred with memories of gunfire and a pool of blood forming in the cotton sheets. There was no other way.
x
[/center]Athos killed the engine and sat in the seat as he waited for the vehicle to die down. The headlights dulled to the point of no light. Silence was only heard. He rubbed his forehead and stared at the prodigious mansion looming above him. The place was quite grand and he recollected old memories of running down the corridors when he was a young boy. René Renault was almost like a second father to Athos, and is a great man.
He ambled down the driveway, and resisted shivering in his thin coat. He knew that the old man wouldn't take the late hour very well, regardless of the incident. Athos also knew that it wasn't the moment to think of that. Nor was it the moment to think about Anne, but he couldn't help it.
He wasn't sure whether it was the woman's fault or not. It was all too true that death was something no one deserved and murder was a sin. Wasn't adultery, as well? In this particular situation, he would take any reasoning to help him realize what he did wouldn't put him in hell for eternity. The truth was blatant, but he couldn't bear to think of it.
The large, wooden door was opened five minutes after Athos knocked on it. René's face filled the small crack and the wrinkled face crumpled with surprise. "Athos, my dear boy!" he exclaimed, opening the door further to let the outsider in. "What brings you here at this hour?" The old man shut the door with an audible click.
Athos surveyed the room and bit his lip. The well-furnished room was a lot darker than he'd ever seen it before. "I need help," he replied, "and I need it fast, mon ami." He walked near a soft emerald green armchair and sank into it.
"What troubles you?" replied René, fiddling with his dark chocolate robe. His face was full of question. "You know I'd do anything for you, but I need some kind of a reason."
Athos pondered this. "My wife." He paused. "René, she is dead. Capot."
"Did y-"
"Yes." Athos pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. "Parbleu, I didn't mean to, really. I was drunk an'-"
"Spare me your excuses," René stated, his French accent thickening. He waved his hand. His dark blue eyes presented a shroud of confusion and pity. "I know you're a good guy. Athos, your father and I were really good friends and I like to think you as a good friend, too. I never did like that wife, as pretty as she is, but she was, uh, quite overzealous in many aspects."
Athos knew what the man was implying, and he had no input to this branch of the conversation. René took this as an inclination to continue. "I'm not sayin' that she deserved to die," he said, "but I do think you're better off."
Athos bit back the anger and stood up, his face burning. Ambivalent emotions were conflicting within him and he could hardly think of anything but the bloody remains of his wife. He did love his wife, and for a while, he was sure that she loved him back; but, that never stopped her from hanging around other men and more than once he suspected of her sleeping with him. At the time, he wasn't brave enough to intrigue her.
"Will you help me?" he asked with finality and exasperation in his tone. He was able to keep the emotions under control and hoped his visage was stony. "I know that'd put you in a risk of sorts, but I really need to leave. I promise you that I sure as hell wasn't thinking when I came home drunk. I can't even rem-"
"You're blubbering, mon garçon," René said, his face soft. "I'm old and I never did care too much for the government or law. They can't do anything to me I'll regret."
Athos sighed and stood up. "Merci, René, I am much obliged," he said, starting for the door. He winced when he noticed the silky red curtains. They were a gift for René and his wife's anniversary and Anne had picked them out. That day was such a golden moment. The picnic and the evening's dinner was scrumptious, the two of them had indulged themselves. Anne would no longer be able to indulge herself they way they had that beautiful August day. She was dead.
The guilt was pulsing through his body like a heartbeat and he felt his stomach sick. The urge to vomit was strong and he could hardly maintain himself. It was killing him. Divorce would have been more reasonable, wouldn't it? He knew it was too true. He clamped his jaw shut and leaned against a bureau for support. He promised himself that he wouldn't ever drink again. He wasn't sure if he could without acting rash.
"Athos," René said from behind the sickened man. "You're better off."
Note: The sample is a little rushed because I didn't want to spend a lot of time on it when I have other posts to tend to. If anything conflicts, please warn me.
You're good LOL 