courageleft

[courageleft]

rules & guidelines

basics

this blog will contain triggering content, mostly violence, mentions of gore, body horror and injustice. other triggers might be mentioned; everything will be tagged accordingly with "tw: word", so please either blacklist that tag or simply do not follow me if you're sensitive to such things. your mental health comes before a hobby such as writing. essential roleplaying etiquette is expected; do not godmod, do not force things down my throat and tag and cut your posts as you can. i will do the same thing; let's keep things mutually respectful, yeah? i do not support callout culture. it started as a good idea giving psa's to warn people of dangerous people but it's become nothing more than a petty salt fest and i'm honestly too old and too tired to deal with that. if you support callout culture do not follow me or i will softblock you. nsfw content will be present on this blog, mostly mentions of murder, violence and gore but content of sexual nature might also be present. i will try my best to tag everything and put it under a read more but i can't promise i'll always be able to do so. i ask that you do the same, or at least try to.

mutuals, shipping & writing

i love shipping, but it is not a priority for me. odysseus is obviously prioritizing one person and i want to keep it for that. bonds will have to be explored and thoroughly discussed because a defining characteristic of the muse is his undying loyalty and devotion to the person he loves. so... yeah. i might be selective with whom i follow and i will prefer to write with mutuals only but i have no problems writing with non-mutuals. just approach me and we can talk stuff out! i tend to prefer to wing things but i am also willing to plot. the best way to interact with me is either sending me a dm to plot or to just randomly chuck an ask meme in my inbox. if you'd like to plot, though, feel free to ask for my discord.

CREDIT.

icon border and divider by undy. icon psd by jayn. base icons by me. promo base by phasmophobie.

[courageleft]

# BASICS

name :           elias vance alias :            eli, hellhound, age :              twenty-six birthday :      march 19th

sexuality :     bisexual height :            6'7  /  207 centimeters weight :            285 lbs  /  129 kilograms

history:

elias vance was once a household name. a child actor with an angelic face and a natural talent for captivating audiences, he was the golden boy of a beloved family sitcom in the early 2000s. kids wanted to be him, parents adored him, and directors saw him as hollywood’s next big thing. but as the show ended and puberty hit, the roles dried up. he was no longer the cute kid — he was an awkward teen in an industry that had no patience for growing pains.

feeling discarded, eli turned to the wrong people. he got into the nightlife scene, partying with older celebrities, indulging in vices that numbed the sting of irrelevance. that’s when kane luthair, a shadowy figure in the underground world, saw potential in him — not as an actor, but as something far more useful. kane saw the desperation in eli’s eyes, the hunger for validation, and he exploited it.

at first, it was small jobs — delivering packages, keeping an eye on people, using his fading fame to charm his way past security. but soon, eli became kane’s enforcer, his "dog." he learned how to fight, how to intimidate, and how to get things done in ways that made his former life seem like a distant dream. the soft, smiling kid from tv was gone. in his place stood a man with a sharp jawline, a scarred neck from a past "lesson," and a gaze that had seen too much.

but kane’s empire crumbled. the law finally caught up to him, and eli was left standing in the ruins of his own choices. with nowhere to turn, he did what any washed-up actor with a scandalous past would — he went online.

his dark humor, brutal honesty, and self-deprecating takes on his past made him a viral sensation. people didn’t see the naive child star anymore — they saw a hardened survivor. now, eli is riding the wave of infamy, rebuilding his career on his own terms. he’s getting cast in gritty roles, playing villains and antiheroes, drawing from the very life he barely escaped. his social media is a mix of old behind-the-scenes memories and cryptic, half-joking nods to the underground life he left behind.

but the past doesn’t just fade away. some of kane’s old associates still lurk in the shadows. some see eli as a traitor, others as unfinished business. and maybe, deep down, eli isn’t sure if he can ever really leave that life behind.

personality

eli vance is the kind of guy who walks into a room and immediately makes you question whether you want to punch him or fall in love with him. he’s cocky, smirking like he knows a joke you don’t, and has the swagger of someone who’s either won every fight he's been in or at least looked good losing. his social media presence is pure chaos — unhinged tweets, reckless oversharing, and the kind of self-deprecating humor that makes people wonder if he’s joking or if they should be concerned. he flirts like it’s a reflex, teases like it’s a sport, and has the emotional intelligence of someone who absolutely shouldn’t — but somehow does — understand your deepest insecurities.

at first glance, he’s an asshole. he’s blunt to the point of rudeness, thrives on stirring the pot, and has zero filter. he’ll call you out on your bullshit before you even have time to finish your excuse, and he has a bad habit of leaning in way too close when he talks just to watch you squirm. he doesn’t take things seriously — not drama, not threats, not even his own career. his philosophy? "life’s a joke, and i’m the punchline."

but then, just when you think he’s all ego and recklessness, he does something that makes you realize — oh. he actually cares. the guy who shrugs off every insult remembers how you take your coffee. the same eli who clowns on people online is suddenly dead serious when someone crosses a line with his friends. he’s the type to throw hands if someone disrespects you, but also the type to stand outside your apartment at 2 am because you sounded "off" over text. he plays dumb, but it’s a carefully curated act — beneath the biceps and the bad decisions, he’s perceptive, loyal to a fault, and dangerously good at reading people.

he’s a walking contradiction: a chaotic himbo with a past, an ex-criminal with a golden heart, a reformed "dog" who still bites when necessary. he’s not perfect, and he never pretends to be. but one thing’s for sure — if eli vance is in your corner, he’s there for life. and god help anyone who tries to hurt what’s his.

trivia

eli looks like he only works out because the gym has mirrors, but in reality, he’s stupidly strong. he once arm-wrestled a guy at a bar for fun and accidentally dislocated the dude’s shoulder. he felt so bad he paid the guy’s medical bill and bought him dinner afterward. they’re now weirdly close friends.

even though he’s long since outgrown his old show, he still remembers his character’s stupid catchphrases. if you ask him nicely (or catch him drunk enough), he’ll say them in the exact same tone, then immediately groan in regret.

grew up around fast cars in the underground but drives like a menace. has been banned from using ride-sharing apps because he keeps challenging drivers to drag races in their own cars.

the himbo energy is a front… mostly – plays dumb for comedic effect but is actually freakishly good at strategy games. chess, poker, even those ridiculous claw machines — he wins every time. won’t admit he’s smart, though. "nah, i just got lucky." (he did not.)

used to play guitar as a teen when he was trying to be edgy. can still play, but only knows sad indie songs or absolute bangers from the early 2000s. once pulled out a guitar at a party and accidentally started a full-blown singalong. hated every second of it.

will respond to hate comments with "kiss me on the mouth or shut up" and fully commit to internet beef just for the entertainment value. also has a habit of tweeting things like "broccoli is just angry trees" at 3 am with no context.

big guy, big attitude, but let him see a stray cat, and it’s over. has been late to multiple meetings because he "had to make sure a pigeon was okay." owns a grumpy-looking rescue dog named meatball, who follows him everywhere.

doesn’t matter if you’re bigger or smaller than him. if it’s comfortable, it’s his now. good luck getting it back.

will act like he’s too cool for it, but if you leave an episode of love & betrayal: miami on, he’s hooked. once live-tweeted an entire season and refused to acknowledge it afterward.

he has a "stupid ideas" face, aka if he smirks and raises an eyebrow, someone is about to do something dumb — and it’s probably him.

[courageleft]

10   INPUT “ @maljefe​ ”,    A    $ IF  ASK (Q  $)  =  0  THEN GOTO REPLY PRINT  “you are cast out from the heavens to the ground, blackened feathers falling down” ,  A   $ INPUT  "ghost_lyric_prompt“;   S

                          「 by christian standards i would come from hell. 」

the response is dry, almost nonchalant when he lights up a cigarette, taking a long drag that burns almost half of it before he lowers his hand, gives a quick glance at loni before looking away towards the wall. he never enjoyed mentions of heaven; had never been one for anything religious past the point of making fun of people that used it as excuses to judge other. his upbringing had successfully burnt away any chance of him ever warming up to the concepts of deities and places like heaven or hell. not like earth itself didn’t have plenty of attributes those very values would ascribe to hell. but who is he to judge if not a sinner posing as a non-believer?

there’s an amused hum when he finally exhales the smoke, doesn’t even bother to find an ashtray when he takes his last drag before smothering the burning cigarette in his hand until it is out before flicking it into the nearest trash can with the same nonchalance he would use to make light of the very church that ruined his mindset during younger days towards a priest. he barely pauses, doesn’t hesitate before he turns towards the woman, expression dangerously neutral despite the vague twitching of his lips he forces to give away vague amusement.

            「 unless you are comparing me to lucifer, then you might have a point. 」

he muses jokingly, shrugging the entire thought off before proceeding to sit down, lifting his feet onto the table and crossing them over each other. for the most part he pays no mind to the thought until one night, one where he won’t turn on stand-by and where he will sit on an empty rooftop by himself he will eventually remember this conversation. but for now he shoves it away, chooses the blissful ignorance he has gotten so good at using when he gives a vague grin.

despite the choice of topics it is almost peaceful, if he ignores the mild discomfort brought forth by a mind that should be dead and gone; the discomfort of a child that had died the day it left its home for the last time. perhaps one of the last few times he will get the chance at having a calm and peaceful conversation, and were he not to know the importance of his departure in the future he would feel guilt for playing his cards like he normally would - for leaving everyone unaware until it is too late. but he doesn’t feel guilt, not when he knows that its the only way for him to keep everyone he’s grown to care about safe. even if it means making everyone hate him.

in that aspect, perhaps he was just like that figure cast out of heaven; sacrificing its all to protect what it loves, unfairly stripped of all it holds dear solely because it could see the truth behind humanity. or maybe it was an illusion of grandeur he felt, he wasn’t so sure. maybe it all got to his head; in the end even with his knowledge he was simply a pawn in a game of chess.

                                       「 any reason for the sudden poetry? 」

[courageleft]

10   INPUT “ @lunaetis​​ ”,     A    $ IF  ASK (Q  $)  =  0  THEN GOTO REPLY PRINT  “they both had secrets to be kept, that much was certain. there were moments where her suspicion about him rise, only to be dissipated an hour later when he did something to prove her wrong ( most of the time not intentionally either. ) with that said, there was no lying to say after god knows how long they had been ’ married, ’ she had formed a sense of attachment to him. so much that at this very moment when their faces were barely an inch apart, she could feel her own heart thumping just a little louder.

“ kiss me. ” a request that might have surprised him, but at that point, she had already thrown the caution to the wind and those words came in a whisper. delicate fingertips traced over the line of his jaw, and his warm breath almost tickled her skin. “ don’t think too much. just kiss me. "” ,  

A   $ INPUT  "no_prompt”;   S

attachments were a delicate line of dangerous, one so intricate and interwoven that at some points it felt as though nobody truly could explain the wondrous pieces that made them up. until he finds himself entangled in a web of carefully crafted little lies, finesses his way out of things only to blunder up elsewhere. and yet it seems as though any suspicions he rouses are smothered by the moments where his human parts overwhelm the machine, where he acts to clumsily humane that there is no doubt that at some point he truly was flesh and blood. truly had been what made someone a person. whether or not he was one still was debatable but it didn’t change how hae-in had managed to find her way through the cracks in his steely defenses. 

they had both been so careful in their approach that for a moment he felt overwhelmed when they were too close. it’s a moment where he has red words blare in his vision. “ALERT: DRASTIC PULSE SPIKE”. his heart wasn’t that of a human; it couldn’t even properly beat. something that almost alarmed him when he realized the interwoven implications behind that warning. to be attached to someone in his life was a bad idea, but to find someone who made the machinery feel almost human, someone who manages to turn him back into the awkward, clumsy mess he used to be way back when… that would have to be something that could cause his downfall. and yet he doesn’t care, barely holds his breath after he draws it without realizing and stares, wide eyed and shocked. it comes both as a surprise and at the same time not at all as one. his hand reaches out to carefully rest over hers, ghosting over it like the brief brush of a butterflies wing, and then he moves, just a little bit. just enough to brush his lips over hers before he pulls back just enough to look into her eyes, hesitant. waiting. scared.

he feels so vulnerable in that moment that he almost forgets everything. all the pain and fear and worries. that for a brief moment he feels awfully, joyously human, and nothing else.

                                                                 「 are … are you sure? 」

he didn’t know he could be shy, didn’t know that such awkward sheepishness and nervosity befitting of a teenager in front of their crush could be his trait to claim. and yet here he was, a nervous wreck waiting to either hit the ice berg or see the welcoming sight of the light house leading it to safety. he must seem like a deer in the headlights, frozen and wide-eyed but her hands coax his face closer again, gentle and careful and hesitant that he’s sure she also doesn’t know entirely what to make of the situation. he wants to say something, but just like the breath he doesn’t need those words are stolen from him the moment her lips brush over his again.

[courageleft]

10   INPUT “ @dcwnrisen​​​ ”,     A    $ IF  ASK (Q  $)  =  0  THEN GOTO REPLY PRINT  “ don’t just stand there, looking at me. ” ,   A   $ INPUT  "random_dialogue_prompts“;   S

gaze slowly shifts to the side. casually, non-chalantly. there’s a deliberately casual shrug as if he bleeds red. prosthetic hand comes up, blood stained fingers coming up to wipe at the blood on his face only to smear it further. his eyes snap back to her when he finally speaks after having spent the past few minutes in silence, not having bothered to speak up when she first barged in on him standing in the dark covered in blood. it’s not his and he is aware that she knows that but whether she’s concerned or annoyed he cannot fully decipher quite yet. he’s almost as silent as him and despite the tension in the air all it does is further that vague sense of amusement.

he lifts his head, takes two or three long steps before he’s in front of her. then his head tilts to the side a bit, the blood running over his lips as he gives a toothy grin. this was to be expected, he reasons. he’s a monster, has always been one and would always be one. the only difference between now and the past is that he was forcibly given a near angelic face to contrast his disgusting habits and bloodshed. were it not for those soulless eyes perhaps he’d be able to fool even people that knew him. but instead all he does is lean down a little, still grinning.

                                        「 are you implying red is not my color? 」  

he whispers hoarsely, as if his throat was parched when in reality all that was happening was he tried to keep his voice low. there’s amusement swinging in his tone like a bat, the dark, almost unhinged kind that threatens to reveal how many times he’s barely managed to pull himself back from the edge. his unbloodied hand comes up, plays with her hair as he leans down a little, as his face gets dangerously close, stays in place for a moment as if waiting for permission.

and then he kisses her almost innocently before giving a rough chuckle, bites the corner of her lips just hard enough to draw a little blood. somehow he feels almost alive in the prospect of playing with fire - or well, lightning. having felt dulled out for most of what he can remember as kazimir has caused the prospect of any sort of thrill; fight or not, to make him almost mindless when he jumps to the chance of it. he pulls back, is almost gentle when his thumb traces over her lip to wipe away the little bit of blood that has collected there while he licks the blood from his own lips. he smirks, thoroughly entertained. he’s fucked up. but it’s not like lysandra didn’t know that beforehand. his voice is teasing, playful when he speaks again, almost prideful.

                                               「 i, for one think red fits me very well. 」 

[courageleft]

10   INPUT “ @changqwi​​ ”,     A    $ IF  ASK (Q  $)  =  0  THEN GOTO REPLY PRINT  “ well, i guess that’s broken. ” ,   A   $ INPUT  "random_dialogue_prompts“;   S

                                                         「 it exploded. 」

deadpan response comes; were eyes able to express emotion perhaps they would betray the vague amusement cyborg felt at the observation. instead it seems like he’s fed up most likely. he isn’t, but he makes no effort of showing that. instead he shrugs, turns away from the drone and walks to the crate at the side of the wall. careless steel grips another drone from inside, pulls it up and places it on the lid with barely enough care to not immediately break it again. a roll of his shoulders, much imitating a human trying to relax, helps easen the tenseness in his prosthetic before he shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants, shrugs as he turns around to face the woman again. gives a miniscule tilt of his head as one brow raises in piqued interest.

so far she’s not told him the reason for her sudden appearance in his little workshop, rather she’s been mostly quiet while observing some of his creations and tools. it doesn’t feel like she belongs to one of the groups after him, plus even with the obvious fact that she might be … similar to him, he knows he can very well escape should the need be. this workships is merely for repairing his limbs should they get damaged, he can always build a new one up in some abandoned building on the other side of time if he has to. but now his patience is … it isn’t running thin, but it is intermingling with curiosity. a dangerous combination, in a sense.

                              「 you have a reason to be here.   and by the lack of                                    robots or androids with you i presume it is not to                                    buy my services.   so, i will ask politely once and                                    after that how i handle things is up to your reply:

                                                                    what is it you need me to do?  」

his words sound static now, voicebox in full control of his speech while he takes a few steps closer. there is something he wants to confirm - or deny. something he wants to test. he’s finetunes his system enough to be able to recognize certain … beings. but he still wants a confirmation of whether or not it works. he leans forward until his face is right in front of her, lightless electric blue eyes practically burning into hers as he holds eyecontact. everyone has different reactions to his eyes up close, miniscule as they may be. and now he just needs to wait and see what hers is going to be. especially when he doesn’t even blink. 

[courageleft]

10   INPUT “ @changqwi​​ ”,     A    $ IF  ASK (Q  $)  =  0  THEN GOTO REPLY PRINT  “ how about we don’t do that. ” ,   A   $ INPUT  "random_dialogue_prompts“;   S

it’s perfect in that cold, empty way a practiced smile can be. his eyes show no emotion when he lifts his hand, raises the body attached to the head he’s holding up. the person whimpers and he almost wants to scoff. he knows this ones kind; the one that can hurt and dish out pain as long as they do not suffer the consequences. it’s the same kind of person that was responsible for his death. for what he was to become. it’s the same kind of person he used to be, he convinces himself. and that makes it all the more easier to add just a little more pressure to his grip. enough to make them wince and have tears roll freely down their face. it must be incredibly painful, he muses. it won’t take much more before he cracks their skull. he feels tempted to - they deserve as much. he knows that. he’s been following them in the dark for weeks now. it’d be deserved.

but a hand on his shoulder roughly pulls him back. he was so focused on his hand that he hasn’t been minding his stance. he shouldnt be able to be moved so easily but he’s turned his gravitational center off earlier that day and it’s enough for someone very strong to at least get him to move a bit. and it’s the surprise that does the rest, that causes him to drop the person on the ground. he hisses, sucks in a breath he doesn’t need nor want and glares back at sibyl. then he laughs at the expression - disgust. sort of. it’s the closest descriptor he can find to it. of course. anyone sane would feel that way about what he was going to do. sane, or perhaps just reasonable. his smile widens, turns into a toothy grin at that before he shrugs, gives the guy in front of him a solid kick in the ribcage that sends him flying before extending his hands in an open shrug. you can get lost now, he says in a voice that isn’t his own. then he turns around.

                                                       「 bold choice to stop me. 」

he hums out, amused. it’s a breath of fresh air. it’s amusing. nobody so far has had the gall to actually stop him when he was in his element. nobody was bold enough. or perhaps stupid enough. in her case he’d argue the first one is more reasonable an explanation than the latter but he’ll digress. his gaze lowers, meets hers. she’s … upset, it seems. as if she doesn’t understand what he’s doing. and maybe she doesn’t - she doesn’t know what he does and this is more of a “badly timed second meeting” than anything else. he rolls his shoulders like he did back than, except this time its to free a stiff cable in his arm before he gives a low chuckle.

                                   「 alright. i’ll entertain you if you entertain me.                                         give me ONE good reason why i shouldn’t. 」

[courageleft]

10   INPUT " @lunaetis​​​ ",     A    $ IF  ASK (Q  $)  =  0   THEN GOTO REPLY PRINT  “ don’t just stand there, looking at me. ” ,   A   $ INPUT  "unprompted_message";   S " if it hurts too much, you don't have to feel. " arms were wrapped around him despite her own stature being much smaller than his own. it didn't matter, though, hae-in realized. how it didn't matter as long as he was here. quietly, she rested her lips to his temple in a kiss, leaving it there while words came in a whisper. " if it's too much to feel, you don't have to. just stay here with me for a while. you're safe here, i promise. "

his moments halt, frozen in the moment as though he were a statue. and perhaps he could be considered one if the circumstances were different. if he was simply standing still for hours on end rather than frozen in surprise. his circuits are nearly frying, he realizes. safe ... she says he's safe here and yet it scares him; to let down his guard and consider himself at peace. there has never been safety before. he was never allowed to let down his guard before. but he wants to, wants to try. and he wants to feel again - ridiculously enough, he comes to see that even with his emotions shut off that pesky human side of him is never truly dormant. that wanting things, wishing for things was utterly, foolishly human in nature and not what the codes in his mechanical parts were made for.

he looks at her owlishly, unblinking before reminding himself it might be odd if he doesn't, and so he blinks. once. twice. three times before he stares blankly. or at least he wants his expression to be blank, if it weren't for the miniscule way his eyes are ever so slightly widened and his lips have parted the tiniest bit. he's wanted to feel safe for longer than anyone could possibly know, and here hae-in was, promising him exactly that. if he could cry he might have, but instead there's the tiniest shake of his shoulders before he trembles like a leaf, even when he melts into her embrace, when the tension leaves his body. it's too much and he can feel something dormant slowly waking up, as if the machine in him knows it could not possibly process everything that his memories and thoughts are putting him through at the very moment.

「 i just want to be someone again. 」

he mutters, shimmies out of the embrace before he can take gentle hold of her hands, close his eyes and lower his stance until he can rest his forehead against hers - until he can lift their hands to hold hers near his chest where his heart would be beating if it were still there. where instead a pump whirrs and works away to keep him going. he sounds deflated, tired. but also hopeful, a little. as though there's something that's been sparked to life with her words and genuine actions. he sighs - or at least lets out a sound that sounds like it - and opens one eye, carefully scanning her face for any trace of deceit. and yet, against all expectations, against every ounce of his body wanting to be wary and distrust her like he distrusts everyone else he can't find it in himself to be worry of someone so sincere. so he lowers their hands again slowly, holds hers like they were a precious treasure that could break with the faintest hint of pressure. when he speaks again his voice is low and as soft as he can sound with his artificial voice box.

「 i was scared of my emotions because of you. 」

the admission makes him hesitate and if he could feel nervous he might, but his emotions are returning slowly at the pace of a snail and for now he is stuck feeling surprisingly at ease with the words he's said out loud. he offers a tired smile, one that unlike any other smile he usually gives is sincere even if it is thin. he shut his emotions down in an attempt to fix what he would have rather forgotten, to quiet the noises in his head. but he could never compete with those. even when his emotions were dormant they were there, haunting him and taunting him and ruining him. and yet ... they were drowned out when he focuses, when he can pick out the faint sound of a heart beating. and for once he is so glad that he was turned into a machine because the very sound of that calms him more than anything ever could, makes him feel at ease even with the overwhelming dizziness that comes with emotions slowly returning to the surface, more than they had before he shut them down in the first place. his expression, despite being mostly unreadable from a distance is almost soft from close up. mostly neutral except for the tiniest quirk upwards in the corners of his lips and the faintest trace of an actual smile to usually dead eyes.

「 i like you. and that scares me, more than anything. 」

it's such an ironic thought, considering that their entire time knowing each other it was just mutually beneficial facades and lies playing a part. and yet here he was, caring about someone he was supposed to only be a helpful little alibi for. and yet a hopeful little part of him hopes that perhaps she likes him, too. she wouldn't be this kind if she didn't, would she? but even so, he feels at ease. whether it's because his emotions aren't fully back or because at least he finally got these pesky thoughts that burdened him for a while now out ... he isn't sure. but he doesn't bother thinking about it either, instead focusing his hearing on every little sound that comes from her. the way her heart beats, the way she breathes. he doesn't usually notice these sounds because usually his enhanced hearing is bothersome and doesn't help, but now it quells the noises and thoughts that threaten to flood his mind and that's all he could possibly need right now, no matter her reaction.

[courageleft]

10   INPUT " @tragedicn​​​ ",     A    $ IF  ASK (Q  $)  =  0   THEN GOTO REPLY PRINT  “ no one heard our screams for a long time. ” ,   A   $ INPUT  "quotes_that_broke.me";   S

human hand comes to rub over the back of tense neck, artificial muscle clenching his hand together at his side while he glances off to the side. he doesn't want to relate, wishes there was a way for him to not understand the implications of what was being said. and yet, in a way he relates. silence was painful, but being unheard felt worse because with silence at least one could comfort themself in knowing they didn't try. but when remaining unheard, one tried and tried only to be met by a wall. it is uncomfortable, knowing that there was nothing he could say to make the weight of such an experience easier. to help. especially the way he was now; perhaps that person, back then, would have known something to bring some semblance of comfort. but kazimir, o wretched kazimir, could not offer such a thing. instead he opts to glance at the other for a split second, luminescent eyes darting off again as if trying to think of what to say. in a way he was, even when he remained almost stoically silent.

like the nightmares that haunt his half - awake rests his mind succumbs to the inky darkness that leaves him something akin to breathless, were he human. the mass and weight of something pulling him under and crushing him when he tries to think back to what that person would have said all those years ago. he snaps back to focus within a second, the seemingly endless moment in his head passing too fast for a normal person to even realize; and yet he knows that six has noticed. sees it in the way her stance shifts almost impercebtebly. he exhales a breath that sounds vaguely like an amused huff before he tilts his head a little down, looks at her directly when he lifts his human - flesh - hand, hovers it over her shoulder before giving a small questioning nod and a raised brow as though to ask for permission to lay it there. he doesn't know if her words were simply meant to be a statement (something he appreciates, he knows that the past is a topic that can be ... incredibly unpleasant, to put it mildly) or to incite a reaction. if it is the second he needs permission to do so; he'd feel bad if he reacted in a way that opposed her in any way. but he speaks, finally. softly. quietly. words that are meant for her, and her only.

「 you are heard now. 」

[courageleft]

# BASICS

name :           kazimir brahms alias :            the blue demon, kaz, cassie age :              thirty - five birthday :      april 28th

sexuality :     bisexual, female leaning   height :            7'1  /  217 centimeters weight :            769 lbs  /  349 kilograms

history

not much is known about kazimirs history prior to being found in the aftermath of an explosion; crushed half to death by rubble and clearly having been torn apart from being close to the explosion itself it is a wonder he survived. a fighter through and through kazimir seems to have clung desperately to life as though he had a reason to keep going. he was brought to a research specialist, someone who had worked relentlessly to find a way to create artificial limbs and prosthetics for people and use technology to save lives threatened just like kazimirs. she succeeded, managed the impossible; out of someone half dead slowly but surely over the span of three years became a man whose life was saved thanks to cybernetics - enhanced and stronger than ever as he claimed, kazimir promised to write reports about his progress and development in return for being allowed to live his own life. ever since he has drifted from town to town, seemingly avoiding being seen. over the past six years he has lived a life others would simply describe as shady; hunting down criminals while seemingly without hesitation to commit certain crimes himself. his skin, once littered with scars and proof that he only barely managed to survive even with transplants, now has been recreated and grafted on top of his old wounds to finally give him an appearance that sticks out less like a sore thumb; though one might argue that the cybernetic eyes connected to his nerves and brain that have an unnatural blue hue to them stick out more than scars. not that he cares, if anyone approaches him about it they’re either going to be ignored or in for a surprise. kazimir claims that the life he has lived before his supposed death was one he would rather forget; that he only ever hurt those he tried to protect and that the fault was with him. that everyone was happier without him. though the anonymous messages, untraceable and unidentifiable, he tends to send out sometimes to certain people only seem to underline that his words are merely a mask meant to keep a distance between him and whatever happened. that he uses his tendency of self-blame to keep people at an arms length even when it is so painfully obvious that even for strangers he cares deeply and greatly. currently he resides in the shadier parts of new york city, seemingly hunting down a bunch of people that have begun imitating a serial killer from little over a decade ago. thanks to his cybernetics and enhancements that are mostly undistinguishable from normal human features thanks to his doctor, kazimir makes money with illegal fights or other jobs he deems morally understandable.

personality

at first glance kazimir may seem intimidating; unnaturally blue eyes, a less than friendly expression on his face and a very clear “piss off” practically stamped to his forehead. that’s mostly just a defense mechanism to keep people at arms reach - he is afraid of letting someone close and only ending up being the cause for their misery. in his own eyes, he is someone who only brings pain and misfortune to people and is therefore destined to be alone. because of that he’s usually not the one to approach others; despite that once someone actually dares to approach him he is actually polite and friendly and so incredibly welcoming that he almost seems like a different person. whether it is years spent in mostly solitude or the past he pretends to ignore - it is very clear that kazimir is starved for social interaction. he may not seem like it, but he’s a very caring person who tends to jump into danger headfirst to protect others. back in his youth it’s what got him into multiple near death situations, nowadays all it ever does is cause him mild trouble and some paperwork or reparations. he’s protective of most people, especially the ones he considers the weaker one in a confrontation and even if he claims to not be a morally well aligned person especially given that he does commit cruel murders on other criminals it is very evident that he has a strong sense of justice and refuses to sit silently as others suffer. he is surprisingly at peace with his new body, even though a solid 75% of it have been recreated and newly grafted - sometimes he’ll even joke that the false skin makes his chest almost like a pillow and, on days where his dark sense of humor wins the battle of “trying to be civil” he might even joke about other parts of his that have been replaced and / or renewed in a much cruder fashion. thanks to this peace he’s made with his current life kazimir is a lot calmer and less hostile to others than he would have been before his supposed passing. this is a big wip please have mercy with me :(

trivia

there are faint traces of his old scars underneath the false skin that was grafted onto him; one would have to use a little bit of pressure to feel them but they’re there. the most evident ones would be on the right side of his face and his back

kazimir very clearly remembers his past, he just tends to either lie about it, directly say he is uncomfortable with the topic or, depending on who is asking, will make up an outrageously ridiculous story to deter people from asking again

kazimir was the cause of the explosion that nearly killed him. so far nobody has gained enough of his trust to hear the full story behind it from him, but should someone ever get close enough to him they’ll be able to ask him about it

he has superhuman strength enhanced by the cybernetics implanted in him that partially replace multiple muscles of his; he doesn’t usually use it and keeps his strength to a minimum (still rather strong for a normal human) but just be aware that you shouldn’t let him give you a bear hug or your spine might be broken

he doesn’t have a real apartment but rather refurbished an abandoned top apartment in an old, unused building. it’s surprisingly nice and clean (modern, too) despite not looking like it from the outside

he has multiple strays that tend to follow him around every now and then because he enjoys taking care of them; half the time most contents in his fridge aren’t even food for him but for animals he feeds

[courageleft]

# BASICS

this blog will contain triggering content, mostly violence, mentions of gore, body horror and injustice. other triggers might be mentioned; everything will be tagged accordingly with "tw: word", so please either blacklist that tag or simply do not follow me if you're sensitive to such things. your mental health comes before a hobby such as writing.

essential roleplaying etiquette is expected; do not godmod, do not force things down my throat and tag and cut your posts as you can. i will do the same thing; let's keep things mutually respectful, yeah?

I DO NOT SUPPORT CALLOUT CULTURE. it started as a good idea giving psa's to warn people of dangerous people but it's become nothing more than a petty salt fest and i'm honestly too old and too tired to deal with that. if you support callout culture DO NOT FOLLOW ME or i will softblock you.

nsfw content will be present on this blog, mostly mentions of murder, violence and gore but content of sexual nature might also be present. i will try my best to tag everything and put it under a read more but i can't promise i'll always be able to do so. i ask that you do the same, or at least try to.mutuals, shipping & writingI LOVE SHIPPING, but it is not a priority for me. kazimir is an incredibly complicated muse to ship with and i'm not going to lie, i don't think he's all that interested in relationships anyways. you can approach me though, i'm sure with a bit of plotting or pre-establishing anything is possible.

i might be selective with whom i follow and i will prefer to write with mutuals only but i have no problems writing with non-mutuals. just approach me and we can talk stuff out!

i tend to prefer to wing things but i am also willing to plot. the best way to interact with me is either sending me a dm to plot or to just randomly chuck an ask meme in my inbox. if you'd like to plot, though, feel free to ask for my discord.