Post by Benedict Ace Reed on Dec 17, 2010 7:08:02 GMT -5
BENEDICT ACE REED !
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they tell you you deserve better, but they never give it to you[/center]
full name: benedict ace reed,
nicknames: ace, ben,
age: 155 years, posing as 24.
hometown: perth, australia.
species: vampire.
ability's: ace has the ability to feel emotions, but in a way that leads to severe headaches and nausea. he senses emotions through sound, taste and feelings. he perfers human company, as their emotions are a lot less subtle, then those of a vampire.
height: 6"1, 185cm
weight: 189lbs.
hair: light brown,
eyes: brown, almost black. occasionally red.
general appearance:
ace has a real tough-guy lok about him. his hair's cut short, close to his head, while a his strong jaw is framed by a tangle of hair. his body is considerably slim, though this is disguised by muscles, and baggy jumpers.
for a vampire, ace is slightly less pale then the rest of his species. his voice his thick with an australian accent, which he plays on quite a bit. over-all, ace has a very boyish look, topped of by an incredibly warm smile, when he actually bothers to smile.
play by: heath ledger!
likes:
- flirty girls.
- human company.
- sunnies.
- accents.
- loud music, to block out the sound.
- fast motorbikes, or anything extreme that could possibly result in death.
dislikes:
- vampires, the volturi in particular.
- rules.
- waiting at traffic lights.
- obnoxious boys.
- over-emotional people.
strengths:
- charming.
- self-assured.
- strong-minded.
weaknesses:
- coward.
- impulsive.
- overly sympathetic to his prey.
- others emotions.
habits/quirks:
- cocks his head to the side, when flirting.
- always tapping out a beat.
- always listening to music, at full volume.
fears:
- volturi.
- other vampires.
- loosing his dignity.
secrets:
- tends to be over-emotional at times, blames this on his 'gift'.
personality:
ace is a bit of a show-off. while most vampires try and hide their secret, he does his best to exploit it. he's always the centre of attention, when it comes to human gatherings. makes him feel more of a man, more wanted, more needed. like life has some sort of purpose--so that every single girl can drop to her knees, just for him.
emotionally, ace tends to be a bit reserved. although the life of the party, he keeps his mouth shut on personal issues. likewise, although he appears charming and friendly, he wouldn't lift a finger if somebody needed him. he's a coward on the inside, but likes to pretend he's in control, through quirky and occasionally, witty remarks.
mother: susan reed.
father: unknown.
siblings: none.
other family: unknown.
other important people: morgana, unknown.
history:
ace was born in his mother's pub, a direct result of a one-night stand. he never knew his father, and it rarely bothered him. his relationship with his mother was purely a respectful, working-relationship. a strong woman, she ran her own pub, keeping the money coming in, refusing to bow down to any man and ask for help. her conversations with ace were purely work-related -- the man in the corner wanted another pint, the man with a hat needed his bags taken up to the room. it was hard to say whether she loved him, or despised him.
most of ace's human memories have been lost. although he clearly remembers the mistress that stole his heart--and his life. she had pale skin, dark brown hair, a smile that never reached her black eyes. but she was beautiful, although a more rational part of him told him he should be afraid. she entered the pub one night, and she sat him down in a chair, desperate for conversation. by the end of the night, ace had forgotten whatever fear had intiailly gripped him. when it came to closing time, she pulled him to his feet, and begged him to walk her home, as she was afraid of the night. Stunned, ace had his jacket on in five seconds flat, and she took his hand as she led him out of the bar. and then she was kissing him. against his collarbone, his cheek, his neck... then the world caught on fire, and he wondered if it had always been on fire, but he had become so ignorant that he did not notice it anymore.
morgana was her name, and he woke to her cold hand against his cheek, dead eyes locked on his face. the fire simmered in his chest, as he tried to pull himself upright.
the next few years with Morgana passed easily, as he started to unearth the truth about her. she had created him, as she wanted someone she could be herself around--she wanted a family. she loved him, she said, although he never believed her--the emotions that he felt from her never conveyed that. instead, she seemed more in love with the idea of love, then himself. and although he said the words often enough, he did not feel the same about her as she claimed to feel about him.
ten years on, he left, to search the 'great perhaps.' since then, he's travelled across the globe, fighting for some sort of freedom.
your name: corie!
experience: a bit, haven't rp'ed for two years, though.
who you play: ace?
how you found us: advert.
role play sample:
He had a pretty powerful urge to stab the Frenchman in the eye with a pencil at the moment.[/color] he said, his voice keeping that numb feeling to it.
Not that it would be very beneficial. It would only damage the pencil, which had clearly done nothing wrong for the current moment. In fact, the pencil had no association to the Frenchman whatsoever.
And yet, it seemed like a pretty good idea in the current situation.
The pretty boy sat there, shameless pride rolling off his body, as he gave a short laugh, and then rattled on about special abilities and talents, ignorant of Ace’s pounding headache, and the arm that remained tight around his lower torso. He paused for a slight moment, his face lit up like a small child on Christmas morning, or like he had just won the lotto. Including me. he had said, that arrogance ringing sharp in his voice. Obviously, whatever talent he had didn’t involve exhausting emotions and d**ned headache. Bloody Frenchman—who in hell decided he was going to be the lucky bugger of the lot? Who decided he was going to nestle down in Forks, have what sounded like undying love from an infamous coven, and be one of the few to get his own unique and individual talent? Ace got a headache for company and nothing more. Oh, plus the sick, demented, absolutely repulsive lust for human blood. From the sounds of it, this Pierre just found himself a good looking cow, and that was dinner for the next few weeks. And he had nine others who stood behind him, supporting him when he began to weaken. Like I said before, Ace didn’t have that. The only people who ever stood behind him were a couple of teenage girls, checking out his tight buttocks, with their mothers trying to hide their obvious interest in the matter.
Yeah, I didn’t think it was too fair either.
“And it’s quite a shame that you didn’t meet the other coven in Denali. They are six now, two of them having ‘talents’ too. I haven’t met them personally, but I do plan too later on. They are my family’s relatives, by the way.”
And would you look at that, Mounsier Pierre got an extended family too. That was just great.
Once again, the music took on a new edge. The thirst had once again claimed Pierre’s attention, and the fire ignited Ace’s own throat in the same moment. He was about to offer him a dog in one of the nearby houses, but the pretty boy’s ebony eyes had closed over, and a loud hum danced through the air, startling Ace momentarily. What in the world was he doing? Trying to wake the whole god d**n street up? Well, there was no doubt he’d break his immaculate record then, if that’s the effect he was after. They’d no doubt have to start burying bodies, ridding all evidence that their species actually existed. Could you image if the word got out? Hell, Ace would have those freaky girls all lined down the street, begging him to bite them, or dance naked in the sun. And you’d know what? Ace would be the idiot to answer their every wish, a goofy grin spread across his face, all to happy to show off his vampire ‘tricks’. At least he would have purpose in his life then, instead of living life undercover, hiding his burgundy eyes underneath stupid contacts. He was just another ridiculously good looking boy at a night club at the moment, who made hollow promises to see you again, and a gave you a number that led you to a therapist’s office.
Yeah. His life wasn’t all that important.
The weird, and slightly disturbing, humming soon silenced, and a wave of victory washed over Ace. Burgundy eyes once again washed over Pierre, asking the simple question, and yet his teeth remained firmly pressed against his tongue, biting back the inevitable question. Because knowing Ace, he would have said it in a way that would back the Frenchman turn and sock him one. And really, that wasn’t in Ace’s top five things to do before he died. Or when he stopped... being all freakishly vampire like. ‘Cause he was pretty sure that eventually, everything would just stop. Maybe there’d be a day when he’d feel the warmth of sunlight on his face again, when he’d be able to feel wet tears against his checks, when he could laugh and not make some poor girl swoon. And then he’d die of old age. Forever was overrated.
“Speaking of special abilities, do you have one, by any chance?”
His victory was etched deeply into his face, and echoed in his voice. Yeah, well, Ace could hum too. But the Pierre’s mood was not what made Ace freeze; it was another of Pierre’s annoying questions. He hesitated, wondering if it was best to give the answer to that one away. What would the French boy do then? Try to convert him into some sort of vegetarian, and force him to join his ‘loving’ family? Or just smile, nod and laugh, like he usually did in reply to anything Ace said?
“Yeah, I’m another of those lucky bastards,”
Though I don’t know if lucky was the correct word to use in conjunction with his ability.
Unlucky suited it better.[/blockquote]
