Post by Ekaitz Euritaizea on Aug 4, 2012 9:39:22 GMT -5
Ekaitz H o d e i Euritaizea
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Egutegiko orriak aurpegiratu dit,
zenbat gau pasatu dut
antzari zu ez zaudenetik.
Its Better To Be Loved Than Feared,
[/color][/font]but if you can't be loved, fear will do.
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Regrets Are About Decisions That you Know You Should Have Done Different.
[/color][/font]When crime busting is easier than your personal life, something has gone seriously wrong.[/center]
Sex[/color]: Male
Age[/color]: 23
Sexual Orientation[/color]: Pan-sexual
Ethnicity[/color]: Caucasian
Member Group[/color]: Were-fox.
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We Bring Up The Pain In Pieces So We Can Look At it In Small Bites.
[/color][/font]If it can bleed me, eat me, or fuck me, I want to write about it.[/center]
Hair[/color]: Not really the caring type, Ekaitz's fair hair always looks messy and curled, as if he had just gotten out of bed. Some even say it is a great lot of fun to tousle it.
Height & Weight[/color]: Quite high, 6', although somewhat thin, weighing only 154lbs.
Body Type[/color]: He seems to be a thin and weak man.
Distinguishing Features[/color]: He has a large scar on his back, almost slicing it diagonally.
Animal Appearance[/color]: As in his human appearance, Ekaitz still looks shaggy while being a fox. His fair locks turn into a slightly more coppery tone and the fur on his stomach strikes one as being as white as snow. As for size, he might appear a bit longer than your average fox and, if you pay enough attention, you may even notice he is a bit skinnier. Even so, he keeps a slightly fierce look thanks to his sharp features and deep blue eyes, which almost seem to warn you about his deceiving looks.
Face Claim[/color]: Gen Huismans
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If You Fear Nothing Then You Are Not Brave;
[/color][/font]You are merely too foolish to be afraid.[/i][/center]
Dislikes[/color]: Above all, he hates not being able to control his condition, partially disliking it all together. But, apart from that deep hate towards what he calls an injustice upon his life, he finds people who do not appreciate art, bully-boys and hypocrites quite to his dislike. Screams and loud noises also are known to bother him, as does waking up before the sun is up. He utterly dislikes filthy brown, as he calls it, as a colour.
Strength[/color]: Even though he may not seem like a strong lad, Ekaitz has his intelligence and agility. And, well, he is a very fast runner.
Weaknesses[/color]: Physically, his lack of strenght means that a single-strong blow can knock him down. Mentally, he is deeply homesick and is sometimes dragged down by the feeling itself.
Fears[/color]: His biggest fear has always been to harm someone, only followed by his fear of spiders and heights. He also fears the chaos that now surrounds him and the large number of violent creatures that seem to be appearing. And, even though he feels stupid for it, he fears forgetting to speak his mother language, basque.
Secrets[/color]: He tries as hard as he can to keep his condition a secret. He has gone through the idea of giving himself up to some bounty hunter or being killed by someone a few times. He has not contacted his family in over a year and a part of him hopes they think he is dead.
Habits/Quirks[/color]: One of his most frustrating habits is to always carry a small notebook and some drawing material with him, just in case the perfect painting appears before his eyes. He tousles his hair a lot when his nervous. His room must be messy for him to be comfortable in it. Yet, outside his room, he is a complete order freak. Whenever he can, he is chewing bubble-gum or a sweet is in his mouth. Before his conversion he was a vegetarian, which has ended up in him trying not to eat meat anytime he can.
Overall Personality[/color]: The childish sort of man, his hopeful and cheerful self sometimes seems too fake to be real. Being a positive guy, he always tries to say anything to make things look somewhat better, but his clumsy personality only ends up getting him into trouble. He may appear clueless or even lackadaisical, but he has always found life more interesting inside his own head -amongst his paintings and mirages- than outside it. Still, even if he just looks like a goof-ball lonely idiot, he will do whatever is in his hands to help anybody, always prepared to cheer them up with a warm and friendly smile.
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You Could Always Trust Jean-Claude To Survive. It Was One Of His Talents.
[/color][/font]I was almost sure it wasn’t one of Richard’s.[/center]
Rank[/color]: He as always considered himself a rookie with much to learn yet.
Effect on Character[/color]: Even though he feels elegant whilst being a fox, he dislikes not being able to be a normal human.
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You Told Him To Lie To Me, Iris.
[/color][/font]You told him to bring his little stripper friend, so I'd die in peace. He's a fucking fairy and fucking coffin bait to boot.[/center]
Mothers Name[/color]: Bihotz Euritaizea
Fathers Name[/color]: Ibai Euritaizea
Siblings[/color]: Eguzki Euritaizea
Overall History[/color]: Twenty three wonderful years ago this creature was born to a basque couple which, as you have probably guessed, lived in the Basque Country. It was a happy and sunny day and, man, I can tell you, they were ever so jolly to see me crying my lungs out. Anyway, back to what I was saying, I was born and raised in the north of Spain, amongst sheep and tall green grass, greenest I have ever seen at least. So, being brought up in the midst of plants and animals, I grew up to be a very peaceful and happy kid; not really strong -must admit I got a hell of a beating at school- but fastest and most agile I had ever met -I had not met that many people, should say so-. I never really learnt much at school, I was always staring at the clouds or watching the leaves move peacefully with the wind. It didn't take long until my parents gave up on me being brainy-smart and begun to show me how to be practical-smart.
School was not really all that hard after those tricks and mischiefs. I was not a straight A student, but I got by. So, not having to worry about it, I started focusing more on my painting, writing, music...; well, on anything that was not being trapped inside two boring book covers. Although, I guess, the most fun I ever had was when I discovered human beings. Damn, I was a fox in my own way. Not literally yet, but well, metaphors are beautiful in there own way. I discovered the charmingly soft awe inducing female body and the entertaining roughness that men had to offer. I really have never understood why people only chose one of them. Beauty has so many shapes! But, ignoring my views on beauty and such, at 17 I ended up studying art. Never really finished the studies, did not like the way they exposed such an enormous need in human life. All they taught was mere technicalities, not even a ounce of heart in what people did there. Disgusting and insulting.
So, starting to actually feel revolted by the humans around me, I decided to flee as far away as I could. And what better place than The Land of the Free? It took me two years wages in a few crappy jobs to be able to escape. Why here? I still do not know, it seemed to be some kind of destiny. And, to some extent, I do not regret my choice. Although, it did ruin my life. I swear I did not know about all these supernatural creatures when I came, -the brochure seemed to leave that slight detail out- and by the time I found out, I was already on of them. To cut it short, I got lost trekking one night. I know, I know, I should have not gone out trekking without a map, or a compass, or some kind of light source. But I just love the thrill of being in the midst of nature! Anyway, this rather strange fox attacked me. I could tell it was a fox because of the moonlight, though I really did not care about the animal that was biting me, just about the fact that I was being bitten. I ran away, as fast as I could, and hid in some strange cave. I was only 20, I had no clue what to do and certainly no clue on how to get to a hospital. Once the sun appeared and I had woken up, I got to the nearest road and, thank God, a car stopped and took me to a close by clinic, where they took care of my wound and got me a taxi to go back home.
That is where it all began. My life had changed drastically and, for some time, I had no idea why. Every full moon, poof!, I became a fox. I was so afraid -still am- of what my friends and family may think. It was hard, but I isolated myself from them, became nasty and cruel. It might have been all an act, but, damn, it felt so real. Took me two years building up courage to be able to stop talking to my parents, change my address and phone number to make things harder. I can not fake my own death, I do not want to shatter their hope in one blow. I want it to fade away, for them to forget me bit by bit.
Nobody knows about my condition -I think-, although, right now, nobody really cares enough to actually investigate me. They either hate me or just ignore my childish self. So, I just go along life as I used to, working away and painting in my spare time, trying not to think of what I have become too much.
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Is It Better To Outmonster The Monster or To Be Quietly Devoured?
[/color][/font]When you dance with the devil, you might as well be a devil who can give you your own corner of hell to rule.[/center]
The paint seems to flow through the brush as the young man draws strokes on the empty canvas, a broad smile on his face as he does. It has been some time since he had a free spot to be able to focus on his hobbies and, man, had he missed it. He pays no attention to the song that echoes throughout the room, ricocheting from wall to wall until it finally fades into nothingness. His mind simply drifts into the paper, as if it were some kind of portal, and uses it as a soothing balm for the past few years. His body still aches from his last occurrence and he can taste the blood on his mouth. A quick shiver interrupts the moment, forcing his eyes shut and a wild stroke to be made. As he stared into the canvas, he sees his own life. Such a beautiful little thing, so many colours throughout it. And yet, focusing on the one dark dash, his mind opens into fear and hatred, clutching his hands and sighing. - There is no escape, is there? - His voice mixes with the unheard music, making itself oblivious and, as the harmony, disappearing into an answer that shall never come.
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