Post by Dominick Hudson on Mar 2, 2009 21:14:33 GMT -5
[/font], About you *
Alias: Braeden.
Age: 19.
Experience: 3 years.
Other characters: Killian Jones.
How can we contact you? Email: brae.cole@gmail.com
Dominick Hudson
, The character *[/size][/center]
Canon or non canon? Non canon.
Character full name: Dominick Michael Hudson
Age: 26 years.
Nickname(s): Dom, Nicky
Alliance: Slayer.
Sexual preference: Straight, though anything to get his hands on cash…or a throat.
Likes: Money, food, murder, sex, drugs, alcohol, tools.
Dislikes: Vampires, werewolves, “them”, winter, books, bugs.
Strengths: Sensing the unknown, stealth.
Weaknesses: No mercy, vulnerable.
General personality: Strong willed, dashing, and persistent, Dominick perseveres as a slayer. Being mortal never brought him down, but not being immortal was something to be envious of “them.” Dom likes to use his looks for killing, tending to try and lure his prey into thinking he was just another dumb human that didn’t know any better.
But he tends to leave his true self on his sleeve, even though he seems to be very hard to read. He knows he is vulnerable to snide remarks or anything that could hurt his ego. His sharp tongue gets the better of him, sometimes, and ends up with a sloppy kill instead of one that could have gone smoothly.
, Appearance *
[/size][/center]Face claim: Christian Bale.
Link:
Hair color: Brown.
Eye color: Brown.
Height: Six feet even.
General appearance: Dominick has dark hair that isn’t short or long. He wears it in loose waves, parted slightly to the side. His eyes are dark brown and bright, hooded with neatly cut eyebrows. His nose is long and a mite bit slimmer than what he would like. Dom has somewhat thin lips, but are set off but the ruggedness of his jaw. He is tall with a long torso, chiseled abs, and strong back. His limbs are powerful, but not strong enough to overthrow vamps and dogs. He plays his cards smartly when dealing in strengths, and most of the time he wins.
, History *
[/size][/center]Parents: Orphaned.
Siblings: None.
Children: Somewhere out there, assuredly.
History: Dominick Hudson was born to wealthy parents, or so he was told, that did not want children and was delivered to St. John’s Orphanage twenty-four years ago. The nurses took good care of the child and helped him grow. He was passed around family to family for a number of years until he was eventually left at the orphanage, no one every claiming him. He took the last name of the doctor as his own and left at sixteen, birth certificate and all other documents in hand.
Having no money when he left, Dom turned to the only thing he could think of: prostitution. He was not picky, taking male and female clients alike. Anyone who had the money got the honey, or so he liked to say. But this also introduced him to the world of vampires and werewolves. He had no idea what he was getting himself into until he let a vampire bite him. The vamp was only trying to get a fix, not kill him. But Dom had no idea what was truly happening. This also made him realize how much he hates those types and decided that he would get paid, one way or another, for his services. Sex and death dealing, not a bad career choice to Dominick.
Ten years later, London became Dominick’s play thing, dangling by the ropes of which its wrists are tied above its head, a crop in his left hand and the anal beads in his right. Dom became able to distinguish the undead and the dogs, and eventually “them.” They were the toughest birds to figure out, but there was something about the way they carried themselves that made it easy to know. Immortals that do not feast on humans, but slay those who do, are a great rarity, and great allies. He had yet to meet any that would kill their own kind, but he knew they were out there.
Roleplay sample: He sat on the edge of the rooftop, knocking his heels against the brick wall. The building was used as a whore house, but he didn’t mind being associated with such. In fact, he knew this life inside and out. It was an outlet for the best known relief of mankind: sex. He enjoyed every minute, every aspect. His mind trailed back, a cigarette between his puckered lips, and thought about one of his first experiences with a female. She had a…brother complex and went to him for relief…
“What kind of sex do you want?” he murmured. Her eyes lit up devilishly.
“You really want to ask this question?” He smiled, biting his lip in the corner for a brief moment.
“Yeah, I think so. C’mon, tell me what you like.” She sighed, a complacent smile displayed on her perfect pink lips.
“Okay. I don’t just want to have normal, boring sex. I like rough, hot, angry sex. Sweating, dripping, burning, slippery, and wet bodies. Chain me, whip me, scratch and maul me. Bite me and tear apart my insides. Thrust harder, deeper, longer. I want to scream and moan, cry and beg for more. Restraints, whips, lingerie, rope, crops, handcuffs, pull my hair and slap my ass. Bend me against counter tops and tables, walls, rugs, floors, couch, bed, and shower.” Her breath was deep as she looked up at the man sitting before her with a look of pure awe on his face. Her eyes glinted and her grin full of malice. “I want you to hurt me.”
His expression changed to fear for a brief second then returned to awe. “W-what? You want me to hurt you?”
“Yes, brother,” she giggled. Her laugh dripped with blood and hunger. “Rape me.”
He smiled coyly to himself as the breeze picked up along the rooftop. The bag, sitting on his side unforgotten yet out of mind, was filled with his tricks. He could not wait to find his next victim, of death or sex, for he takes both with pleasure.
Other:
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