Post by Azrael Seven on Jan 8, 2013 4:19:04 GMT -5
SEVEN, azrael marah
No one is more dangerous than someone who has nothing left to lose.
|| Chris Dakota ||
|| Chris Dakota ||
Name: Azrael Marah Seven
Nicknames: Angel, Azzeh, Azzy, Demon, Crow, Z, Seven, Sev, Reaper
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bisexual
Race: Hybrid
-If Hybrid, Type? Avian
--More Specifically: Crow
Occupation: Thief, Assassin, Ex-Medic
Eye Color: Black
Hair Color: Black
Tattoos/Scars/Extras: Black wings from his crow dna. Scar on his back and chest from stabbing. Always wears his dog tags.
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 130 lbs
Nationality: American
Build: Skinny, lanky.
Anything Else?
Likes:
- Quiet
- Darkness/Night Time
- Boys
- Girls
- Being Alone
- Heights
- Flying
- Thieving
Dislikes:
- Crowds
- Daylight
- Judgmental People
- Tight Spaces/Feeling Caged
- The Fact He Talks To Himself
Strengths:
- Flying
- Strong Stomach
- Loyal
- Protective
- Handling Being Alone
- Aerial Combat
- Stealthy
- Intelligent
Weaknesses:
- Talking to Himself
- Shy/Quiet
- Cares Too Much Sometimes
- Hard to Connect to
- Loner
- Can't Stop Stealing
Fears:
- Breaking a Wing
- Tight Spaces
- Being Alone Forever
- Someone Catching Him Talking to Himself
- Having to Go Back To Prison/War
- Being Stabbed
Secrets:
- Bisexual
- Talks to HImself
- Scared of Tight Spaces
- Military Background
- Prison Background
Traits:
Klepto:He has an addiction to stealing. And as much as he doesn't want to go back to prison for said stealing, he can't stop himself from doing so.
You're Talking To Yourself Again: Azrael has split personality disorder. He talks to himself extremely often. He tries to suppress this as much as possible when he's around people, but on occasion you can catch his voice change or his facial expressions will not match his tone. It is the main reason he stays by himself as much as possible.
Like A Good Dog: He's an extremely protective and loyal creature if you gain some sort of respect/trust from him. He will go to any length to make sure those he cares about are happy and well provided for.
I'm Your Man: He hires himself out for about anything. From stealing to hitman. He's your guy. With the fact that he has no true friends, he has no one to tell. His military background assures he has a strong enough stomach for anything and has the ability to accomplish about anything.
Caged: He has an extreme fear of tight spaces or feeling caged. Anywhere that he can not stretch his wings, is no place to put him.[/blockquote]
Mother: Cierra[/size]
Father: Gage
Siblings: N/A
Other Significant Family: Girl from Teenage Years
History:Born to Gage and Cierra, he was an adored baby. He had been a planned child. Oddly named after the archangel, the angel of death. Azrael. But as his parents started to go at each other's throats, he was slowly less important to them. He was nothing more than something taking up space. His parents soon divorced each other when he was 5 and Azrael was left with his mother. As he grew, he stayed distant from her. At the age of 13, he started sneaking out in the middle of the night. He never caused any trouble, just climbed buildings, set on rooftops.
He spent almost every night talking to himself. Having no one else to talk to, he created a few friends inside his own head. He'd sit on the edge of the rooftops and watching as people passed below him. Observing them and commenting to his 'friends'.
Azrael soon found a young girl around the same age as him. Having heard someone struggling, he left the roof's edge and moved to peer over at the fire escape, seeing her trying her best to climb up to where he was. He carefully helped her up, asking quietly why she was up there. She responded that she had heard people talking from her open window and she had wanted to see what was going on. He never explained that it was just him communicating with himself, but she eventually caught him doing so. She had become his best friend and had been piecing everything together. Catching him just confirmed it. She didn't leave him, instead, they became closer and she tried desperately to help 'fix him'.
At the age of 16, the two took off together. Azrael's mother barely noticed him missing most of the time, and she had decided she loved him and there was no swaying her not to come with him. Azrael started with petty crimes to help sustain them. A little pick pocketing, thieving. He moved up to hiring himself out to thieve along with other random tasks. He eventually received a request to commit a murder. He complied and did so. He pulled everything off flawlessly and was never convicted of any crime.
18 soon came around and he still supported the two of them off of what he stole from others and the money he was making off of completing hits. She knew of his crimes yet stayed with him. It brought good money and a selfish part of her wanted that. But in all reality, she loved the thrill of it. The fact that every night she got to cuddle up to a true killer. Something in her brain liked the danger of it.
One of his hits had become a setup. He was sent out by a young girl who said she wanted her now ex boyfriend to no longer exist. Azrael had heard stories like this time and time again. And without much thought put into it, the archangel set out in search of the boy. Upon finding the target, Azrael was arrested. He had been caught. Authorities had finally caught up with him. He was sentenced to life in prison for the intent of premeditated homicide. He never had the chance to tell his best friend of any of it.
He spent almost two years in prison when word flew through the cells of the discovery of dna splicing. He heard rumors that prisoners could volunteer for testing and if successful, they were required to sign a two year contract with the military in exchange for their release. All he wanted was to get back to her, and therefore, immediately volunteered. The labs had decided that his body structure was best suited for avian splicing and had been kind enough to give him the option of what bird he would like. Everyone in the prison had known of his crimes by now and in turn, he had gained the names 'Angel', 'Demon', and 'Reaper.' Azrael thought the only fitting bird dna to enter him was that of a crow. A bird commonly associated with death.
He was thrown into World War III immediately after healing up. He was trained quickly to be a medic. And was side trained in aerial combat. And out of all of the misery of prison and fighting, he still hadn't lived through the worst day of his life.
At the age of 22, his contract with the military was coming to an end. He was almost out. He could then search for his friend. Return to a normal life after two years of dragging bodies from the field. All he had to do was survive through a few more months. But dying would have been a pleasant alternative to seeing what he saw lying bloody on the battlefield. She was there...motionless. He swooped in without a plan. No strategy. No thought. He dropped next to her body, wings outstretched and laying over her body, covering her as best as he could as he cradled her to him, begging for her to wake up. He was so wrapped up in losing her, that he didn't pay attention to anything around him. The soldiers around him fighting. His only concern was her. And then a bayonet to the back. His eyes went wide, still cradling her to his body. Her eyes opened slowly, connecting with his as he swallowed hard. Her mouth opened, trying to speak, trying to say something. Azrael's eyes dropped down to look at the wound, only to see the bayonet through his body and into her's. She gave up trying to speak and her eyes fell closed. Overwhelmed and going into shock, Azrael blacked out.
He woke up on a cold metal table. His chest was wrapped up. In a panic, he sat up, yanking wires along with him, frantic to find where she was. Doctors quickly entered to try and calm him down. Keep him from injuring himself anymore. He was informed that the bayonet had punctured her lung and she had died on the battlefield.
After healing up, Azrael was discharged from the military. He soon returned to his criminal ways. He had lost the only thing important to him and blames not being able to change his ways on the fact that he has no reason to change them.
CBox Name: Coyote
These images were created by Coyote
at Havoc Graphix.
You are not to steal these or take this claim
off of here or she will send an army of
bath salt hyped octopi to eat your face.
at Havoc Graphix.
You are not to steal these or take this claim
off of here or she will send an army of
bath salt hyped octopi to eat your face.