Raffaele Vargas {Sicily}
Nov 8, 2013 2:12:37 GMT -6
Post by Raffaele Vargas on Nov 8, 2013 2:12:37 GMT -6
Raffaele Santino Vargas
Gender: male
Age: 22
Ethnicity: Sicilian
Sexuality: undecided
Occupation: Bartender/artist
True Name: Guarded - never truly trusting anyone or letting anyone close because you know that they'll hurt you in the end. His name is written across his left side on his hip.
Role: Sacrifice
Appearance: He’s about 5’9 and is on the thin side for his age. He is fairly well toned from years of swimming in the ocean and playing soccer with the other kids in his village. His hair is a normal brown and he’s in bad need of a haircut, although a haircut really just means cutting his hair in the bathroom with a pair of scissors. His eyes are a simple brown color and usually hidden behind his bangs. His ears and tail are the same color as his hair, but only lightly furred. He also has some light scars from childhood and teenage fights, along with a few oddly out of place ones on his upper arm and legs (he refuses to say where they came from though.)
In matters of clothing, he usually dresses somewhat plainly, so he doesn’t draw people attentions. The only distinguishing accessories are a simple gold cross necklace from his mother and an old bracelet he took from his father’s before he left. He also has a tongue ring, but not many people notice and he never points it out.
Personality: Most people would never notice Raffaele if they were to pass by him, as he tends to keep to himself. He seems to admit a cool, calm and collected aura, although when people talk to him they find that he’s speaks with a blunt and sometimes cold attitude. If one speaks to him long enough they usually want to hit him. He seems to have a knack for annoying people. He mostly wants people to leave him alone. He is not exactly the most sociable person out there. He’d rather be kept alone.
The few who are somewhat close to him though will tell people that he’s not actually that bad. He likes to put on a brave front, but is actually more or less nice. He’s still not the most sociable person there is, but he’s not so cold. He’s still sarcastic and rude, but not as much. If he considers a person a good friend of his he is more likely to do things for them, even if he complains and moans about it. Those who know him will admit though that it is hard to know when something is wrong though. He’s very on guard with his feeling and emotions, as though he’s afraid these people will leave him and hurt him.
If you’re someone he absolutely trusts he will show you the side that no one else gets to see. Only when he’s totally by himself, or with someone he absolutely trusts, does he actually start to open up. He has been known to smile and sometimes he will even laugh. With his closest friends is when he’ll let his guard down and reveal how childish he actually is. He will get excited about simple things even, such as new paints or how pretty something looks. He has been known to go on long winded rants at times over things he truly enjoys.
He has a horrible self-image. He is constantly afraid of how other people view him and is convinced that they will hurt him in some way or form. Because of this, he usually tries to push people away and convince himself that he is happier on his own. However, this has not worked out well for him. Somewhere in his life he got this idea that nothing good would ever happen to him. He’s rather passive, putting his trust in faith more than anything else, and believes he has no control over anything that happens to him.
Even those people who are closest to him would never know if how he actually feels about himself. He would rather internalize his pain then turn to someone for help. As a result he has become rather self-destructive. It is not uncommon to find him trying to drink his pain away if his is really upset about something. He seems to fall into depressions easily. He has not fallen into a really bad one for a few years now, but the last time he did, well, it wasn’t pretty for him.
Likes:
~Sweets: Raffaele has a bit of a sweet tooth. He’ll always jump at the chance to try some new type of dessert or pastry, even if he has no clue what’s in it.
~Drawing/Painting: Even though he’s not the best at it, Raffaele still loves to paint and draw. If he could he would try for an art program at the college, but he doesn't believe he has the skills to get in. So for now he sells some paintings on the streets for some extra cash.
~The Ocean/Swimming: Raffaele grew up a in a town right on the ocean. Whenever he got the chance he would escape to go to the water and would stay there for as long as he could.
~Oranges: His favorite fruit. Raffaele could eat nothing but oranges if given the chance. He’s perfected the art of getting the peel off in one setting.
~Food: There’s very few things Raffaele likes more than making food is eating food. His mother instilled in him a deep appreciation for food from everywhere.
~Sleeping: Perhaps it has something to do with the cat ears and tail, but Raffaele adores sleeping and has developed the skill to sleep almost anywhere. There’s always a problem with him sleeping, that being he always seems to find someone or something to cuddle with while he’s asleep.
~Wine/Alcohol/Drinking: Another thing which was drilled into his head from his family was an appreciation for fine wines.
Dislikes:
~The cold: He hates the cold more than almost anything. He grew up where it was hot during the summer and still somewhat warm during the winter. He doesn’t do well once it gets cold. He usually shuts himself up in his apartment once the weather gets too chilly for him and only leaves for work.
~Scary things/horror movies: He’s not the biggest fan of anything that can scare him. He avoids scary movie like the plague and will only watch them with people he absolutely trusts.
~People who touch his ears and/or tail: For some reason people seem to keep trying to touch his ears and tail. He thinks it might have something to do with where he works. Either way, he hates it when people try to touch them.
~People who assume he’s in the mafia: While he does have some family who are involved in the criminal organization, he himself isn’t. He thinks its a horrible stereotype that people have and wishes they wouldn’t associate him with it.
~His father: Raffaele and his father have a complicated relationship. They’re currently not on speaking terms, as his father was upset he wanted to move away and not join the family business.
~School/Tests: even though he enjoys learning new things, he dislikes school mainly because they give tests. He's a horrible test taker. He learned just enough to get by before he dropped out.
Fears:
~Losing everything he has: He’s had to spend a few nights out in the cold with virtually nothing and ever wants to repeat that experience.
~People abandoning him: He’s had enough trouble with just leaving his town and his entire family basically cutting off their relationship with him. He doesn’t ever want to go through that again.
~Being alone: As much as he’s scared of people leaving him, he’s even more scared that he will be alone, because being alone means he has to face himself, and he doesn’t want to have to do that.
Strengths:
~High Pain Tolerance: He has a high tolerance for pain, sometimes even seeming to enjoy getting hurt (not that he does). It makes his role as a sacrifice easier.
~Quick Thinking: He’s good at making split second decisions, which sometimes work in his favor
Weaknesses:
~Unwilling to trust other people: He’s always so afraid someone is going to hurt him that it’s hard for him to trust anyone
~Quick to anger: this is what usually causes most of his fights. He never thinks clearly when he’s like this. He only wants to hurt the other person as much as possible.
History: Raffaele was born on September 27 to a fisherman and his wife. As a child he was unbearably sweet and had the most loving upbringing one could imagine. His mother spoilt him and his father worked hard to put food on their table. He never truly noticed growing up that they weren’t in a good financial situation as it wasn’t important to him. He was more focused on enjoying swimming and playing football (soccer) with his friends.
Things began to change for him after his father took on a new job when he was 11. Although they had more money, Raffaele’s found himself with less and less friends. They had all been told to avoid him because of what his father was doing. In order to find something to do he turned to art. He taught himself how to draw and found that he wasn’t to bad at it. Not the best by a long shot, but not the worst.
By the time he was 15, Raffaele had seemingly lost most of the innocence he had as a child. He had already seemed to slip into his self destructive habits. He often argued with his father, and was more often than not seen with some sort of bruse from some sort of fight. This was the age he found out exactly how wonderfully alcohol could make you forget things and began drinking, although that didn’t really help him much. It was during this time when he learnt that he couldn’t trust people and that they would ultimately hurt him.
It was also during this time when he began to slip into the darkest part of his depression. But no night was worse than one night when he was 18. Feeling miserable, alone, angry, and possibly suicidal he went out and did something stupid. He doesn’t remember most of what happened, really just that he woke up in a hospital with several new scars on his arms and legs. And, much to his surprise, his name had also appeared on his left side hip.
After that night when he was 18, Raffaele promised himself, his future love, and his mother that he would change. He stayed another year at his home before deciding he had to leave. He was originally going to go away to art school, but his father refused to give him any finances for him to leave. Eventually he just left and traveled around Europe. He took some odd jobs and sold his paintings to make some money for himself. He eventually made his way up to Lancashire, England. There, through pure dumb luck, he found a bar where they needed a steady worker as one of the bartenders were moving away, and was hired. And just like that, for the first time in a long time, he had a home again.
RP Sample:
I apologize for the length of this. It was the only piece of writing I had for him that wasn’t still in RP format. ^^;; I’m also Putting a warning here for blood and body (wing?) mutilation..
Raffaele was convinced, he was the stupidest Daitya to have ever been created. He should have known it was a setup. It had been far too easy for him to sneak in and get the information he needed.
He should have known the moment he found the papers that there would be a group of guards upon him.
But he didn’t. So now here he was, kneeling with his hands chained over his head, waiting for death. That was the only option for him now. Anyone who was part of the rebellion was sentenced to death, and the chain around his neck showed where his allegiance stood.
He wanted to look around his prison, but the blindfold over his eyes prevented him from doing so. The blindfold is the most annoying part. They could at least let him see before he dies.
He heard the door behind him open and footsteps as two people entered the room. One man, one woman he guessed from the weight of the steps. Or one is much lighter than the other.
A hand grabbed him by his hair and lifted his head up “So,” A woman said as she yanks on his hair. “You thought you could sneak in here and get away with it?” she released him. “Well?”
“Well, you are all so busy with your head up your asses, I thought you wouldn’t notice.” He replied, a slight smirk on his face. Always cheeky as he could be. How often had Sol said something to him about that? More times than he could count. He had always said it would get him into trouble one day.
Today was that day, he realizes when a palm strikes him with enough force to turn his head. His cheek stung.
The woman said something to her companion in a tongue he couldn’t understand. Normally he wouldn’t mind. However, as those words were ordering his death, he found himself wondering what she was saying. Oh well, he would find out soon enough anyway.
The woman chuckled. “Well then, I’ll leave you two.” He heard her walk over to the door, open it and exit, pulling it close. It locked with a defining and final click.
There was silence, no words or sounds made for a long moment. It was finally broken by the sound of a blade being drawn.
Raffaele chuckled lowly and without humor. “So this is it then?” he asked. “Make it quick then. Taica awaits me.”
He waited for the pain of the blade through his chest, or to feel it slide against his neck. He did not expect to hear fabric ripping as his tattered and bloodstained shirt fell to the floor.
He also did not expect hands on his back, gently, as though trying to sooth him. Hands that rested on his hips as a pair of lips kiss behind his ears.
He growled, a low and threatening sound, and the grip on his hips tightened. “Don’t try to fight.” A low rough voice whispered in his ear. “It’ll just hurt more.” He hissed in reply.
“Fuck you.” Raffaele growled as he tried to squirm out of his captor’s grip. “There’s no way I’ll let you even think of doing that to me.”
His captor let out a short, un-amused snort and placed a soft kiss on his neck. “You think you know what’s going to happen next…you have no clue.” With that he bit down, hard enough to make Raffaele gasp and his wings unfurl.
The hands left his hips, moving instead to touch the wings. Raffaele hissed, trying to move to avoid the touched. No one touched a Daitya’s wings except their mate. It was an unspoken law among his people. Leave it to an Aingeru bastard to break that.
The captor let out a sigh as he stopped exploring the wing. Raffaele was grateful for that. It felt weird and wrong to have someone touching them. He just wished that the other would get this over with already. There was no need to sugarcoat what’s going to happen to him.
There was a firm grip on his left wing, stretching it out and up, and the cold sting of a dagger pressed to his back, and Raffaele realized what the other meant when he had said the other had no clue what was going to happen next.
Raffaele opened his mouth to protest, but a scream left instead as the blade pressed deep, cutting through skin and muscle. The blade pressed deeper, tearing the skin, muscle, and wing away.
Raffaele was vaguely aware of his captor saying something, but it did not register. He was too focused on the pain erupting from his back, forcing screams out as he sobbed and struggled, begging him to stop. He’s starting to lose feeling in the wing.
Then there was a soft thump and a sick feeling in his stomach as the wing hit the floor.
“That’s one down.” His captor said softly, wiping away some of the blood running down the Daitya’s back. “Almost done...I’ll be gentle...” There was pity in his voice.
His other wing was stretched out, the blade placed against the skin there also. His captor took a deep breath before he plunged the knife in, repeating what he had done a few moments earlier. If he’s more gentle, Raffaele did not notice. He was too focused on the pain of skin and muscle and bone being separated from him and the fact that his wings, his precious wings, would be gone. White spots were dancing at the ends of his vision, even black as it was then. He prayed to Taica for this to be over soon and to Shuryou for death to come to him, just anything to make the pain stop.
As quickly as the procedure started it ended with the dull soft sound of his other wing hitting the floor.
There was almost silence between the two for a moment. It was only broken by Raffaele’s broken, pitiful, sobs.
The chains holding him were released. He collapsed to the floor, his hand hitting something soft and feathery. A choked sob escaped his lips. So that was it then.
Slowly he reached up to untie the cloth from around his eyes. It hurt though, moving his arms like that. It caused even more blood to run down his back.
But at least the damn blindfold was off. Although he would have like to see a different sight. Not to see his wings, a dark brown just like his hair, lying on the floor in a puddle of blood. No that’s not what he wants to see at all.
He forced himself to look away, instead studying the room. It was empty. He wondered where the other man went, but then found he didn't care. There was something more important. The door was wide open. The other probably thought he wouldn’t be able to move, much less run. Or perhaps he was planning on it. It could all just be another set up.
But Raffaele still didn’t care. It was still a chance at freedom. So he stood on two shaky legs and did the only thing he could think of. He ran.
Raffaele was convinced, he was the stupidest Daitya to have ever been created. He should have known it was a setup. It had been far too easy for him to sneak in and get the information he needed.
He should have known the moment he found the papers that there would be a group of guards upon him.
But he didn’t. So now here he was, kneeling with his hands chained over his head, waiting for death. That was the only option for him now. Anyone who was part of the rebellion was sentenced to death, and the chain around his neck showed where his allegiance stood.
He wanted to look around his prison, but the blindfold over his eyes prevented him from doing so. The blindfold is the most annoying part. They could at least let him see before he dies.
He heard the door behind him open and footsteps as two people entered the room. One man, one woman he guessed from the weight of the steps. Or one is much lighter than the other.
A hand grabbed him by his hair and lifted his head up “So,” A woman said as she yanks on his hair. “You thought you could sneak in here and get away with it?” she released him. “Well?”
“Well, you are all so busy with your head up your asses, I thought you wouldn’t notice.” He replied, a slight smirk on his face. Always cheeky as he could be. How often had Sol said something to him about that? More times than he could count. He had always said it would get him into trouble one day.
Today was that day, he realizes when a palm strikes him with enough force to turn his head. His cheek stung.
The woman said something to her companion in a tongue he couldn’t understand. Normally he wouldn’t mind. However, as those words were ordering his death, he found himself wondering what she was saying. Oh well, he would find out soon enough anyway.
The woman chuckled. “Well then, I’ll leave you two.” He heard her walk over to the door, open it and exit, pulling it close. It locked with a defining and final click.
There was silence, no words or sounds made for a long moment. It was finally broken by the sound of a blade being drawn.
Raffaele chuckled lowly and without humor. “So this is it then?” he asked. “Make it quick then. Taica awaits me.”
He waited for the pain of the blade through his chest, or to feel it slide against his neck. He did not expect to hear fabric ripping as his tattered and bloodstained shirt fell to the floor.
He also did not expect hands on his back, gently, as though trying to sooth him. Hands that rested on his hips as a pair of lips kiss behind his ears.
He growled, a low and threatening sound, and the grip on his hips tightened. “Don’t try to fight.” A low rough voice whispered in his ear. “It’ll just hurt more.” He hissed in reply.
“Fuck you.” Raffaele growled as he tried to squirm out of his captor’s grip. “There’s no way I’ll let you even think of doing that to me.”
His captor let out a short, un-amused snort and placed a soft kiss on his neck. “You think you know what’s going to happen next…you have no clue.” With that he bit down, hard enough to make Raffaele gasp and his wings unfurl.
The hands left his hips, moving instead to touch the wings. Raffaele hissed, trying to move to avoid the touched. No one touched a Daitya’s wings except their mate. It was an unspoken law among his people. Leave it to an Aingeru bastard to break that.
The captor let out a sigh as he stopped exploring the wing. Raffaele was grateful for that. It felt weird and wrong to have someone touching them. He just wished that the other would get this over with already. There was no need to sugarcoat what’s going to happen to him.
There was a firm grip on his left wing, stretching it out and up, and the cold sting of a dagger pressed to his back, and Raffaele realized what the other meant when he had said the other had no clue what was going to happen next.
Raffaele opened his mouth to protest, but a scream left instead as the blade pressed deep, cutting through skin and muscle. The blade pressed deeper, tearing the skin, muscle, and wing away.
Raffaele was vaguely aware of his captor saying something, but it did not register. He was too focused on the pain erupting from his back, forcing screams out as he sobbed and struggled, begging him to stop. He’s starting to lose feeling in the wing.
Then there was a soft thump and a sick feeling in his stomach as the wing hit the floor.
“That’s one down.” His captor said softly, wiping away some of the blood running down the Daitya’s back. “Almost done...I’ll be gentle...” There was pity in his voice.
His other wing was stretched out, the blade placed against the skin there also. His captor took a deep breath before he plunged the knife in, repeating what he had done a few moments earlier. If he’s more gentle, Raffaele did not notice. He was too focused on the pain of skin and muscle and bone being separated from him and the fact that his wings, his precious wings, would be gone. White spots were dancing at the ends of his vision, even black as it was then. He prayed to Taica for this to be over soon and to Shuryou for death to come to him, just anything to make the pain stop.
As quickly as the procedure started it ended with the dull soft sound of his other wing hitting the floor.
There was almost silence between the two for a moment. It was only broken by Raffaele’s broken, pitiful, sobs.
The chains holding him were released. He collapsed to the floor, his hand hitting something soft and feathery. A choked sob escaped his lips. So that was it then.
Slowly he reached up to untie the cloth from around his eyes. It hurt though, moving his arms like that. It caused even more blood to run down his back.
But at least the damn blindfold was off. Although he would have like to see a different sight. Not to see his wings, a dark brown just like his hair, lying on the floor in a puddle of blood. No that’s not what he wants to see at all.
He forced himself to look away, instead studying the room. It was empty. He wondered where the other man went, but then found he didn't care. There was something more important. The door was wide open. The other probably thought he wouldn’t be able to move, much less run. Or perhaps he was planning on it. It could all just be another set up.
But Raffaele still didn’t care. It was still a chance at freedom. So he stood on two shaky legs and did the only thing he could think of. He ran.
OOC Alias: Chandinee/Chandi
Contact: PM/ tumblr (heartofitalia)
Time Zone: eastern coast time zone
Favorite Pairings: Open
Rule Check: Life is your restaurant and I'm your maitre'd, come on whisper what it is you want, you ain't never had friend like me
Contact: PM/ tumblr (heartofitalia)
Time Zone: eastern coast time zone
Favorite Pairings: Open
Rule Check: Life is your restaurant and I'm your maitre'd, come on whisper what it is you want, you ain't never had friend like me
