Raeggos Shaelendren

[RAEGGOS SHAELENDREN]

raeggos shaelendren

[/font]

[/b], yep so please call me that from now on. i've got 11ish birds flying round my head and they don't half get annoying but when you've been around for 22 years you get used to it. have you heard about FAYNE UNDARIA && REMY DUQUETTE, 'cause they are right awesome so don't mess with me, 'cause i've read the rules and i say oh lawd, Reaggos is gonna be cray cray. so read my application yo!?! kthxbi.[/ul][/blockquote][/size]

[/center]

FULL NAME!?! - Raeggos Shaelendren
NICK NAMES!?! - Oh there are quite a few names that some call him. Mad Elf, traitorous bastard and murderer to name a few. Oh, but never to his face. Oh no no no--the ones who do that never quite live to say it again. It is a pity yes? Best watch your mouth then. You do want to keep your head, don't you?
AGE!?! - 866. It's quite young for an elf really. Not even into his first millennium. {and yet, why is it that Raeggos is surprised he's lived this long?}
OCCUPATION!?! - Traitor--it is such a nasty, nasty word. Raeggos isn't quite sure he likes the sound of it {sometimes, it even hurts, tearing at something he thought dead quite long ago} but it fits, yes? ah, but who did he betray? The elves? They did nothing but watch him suffer. The cosa nostra? Mere mortals--they merely supplied him with a means to an end. Why would he--he, an elf, a great elf, powerful beyond measure--owe them anything. If so, who did he betray? His friends? He had none. His family? Dead. Himself? Who knows. In the end, Raeggos isn't quite sure he knows any more. {and now, he finds he doesn't quite care.}
MEMBER GROUP!?! - Elf.
RELIGION!?! - None. Unless of course, you count the fact that he sees himself on par with a god. After all, why would he worship those silly gods and spirits and their ilk?! They have done him no service--no, no not at all. They left him to rot--in torment, in pain, in anger, in madness and it was only through his own power, through is own and theirs that he was able to finally realize who he was. They did him no service, and he will return the favor in kind.
MAGIC!?! - Summoner. And my, my what pretty creaures they are. Well, once he realized their worth of course. They whisper such sweet nothings into his ears {burnt towns, ransacked villages, corpses strewn across the streets and blood running in rivers}. At one time, he might have hated them but now...now that he listens...oh, he doens't know why he didn't to begin with. {listening makes it hurt less, makes the pain stop and then--then he can finally breathe}
SEXUALITY!?! - pansexual. Once upon a time, he cared nothing for gender. Love was love after all, but now...now...with the madness raging at his mind and the pain clawing at his soul, he finds the act of sex strange in and of itself. {besides, who would want a lover like him? more like to rip of their head in a fit of quiet rage than to caress their cheek? no sane creature, that much is sure. sometimes, though, when raeggos reaches up to brush his cheeks he can feel that they are wet. perhaps loneliness? madness? who knows.}
GENDER!?! - Male
PLAYED BY!?! - Ederson Marquezini

LIKES!?! -

• the quiet {it's so nice once everything becomes silent. there's no noise, no pain and though he can't quite sleep he can finally, finally, finally breathe}
• cold wind {when the pain got too much, the spirits too loud, a cold wind--cold enough to turn his cheeks red and bite at his nose and fingers--was almost enough to quiet them. it was a pity it wasn't but raeggos can appreciate the almost relief all the same}
• the new moon {dark, dark, dark--like him. there's no light to taunt him, no light to steal it away, no light to make them stronger for the spirits are always at their best when the moon is full}
• old books {dry dusty tomes, yellowed pages beneath his fingertips and a memory of a time long past. some of them hold dark things, forbidden things and raeggos likes them best for they quiet the spirits the most}
• dark nights {when the moon is gone or clouded and he were he a mortal he'd not even be able to see his hand in front of his face. those nights are the best, the calmest and raeggos loves them}

DISLIKES!?! -

• early mornings {the way the light shines over the horizon and everything seems brighter and cheerier, almost as if its taunting him. the way things wake up and raeggos hates them bitterly. they can sleep, and he will never have the pleasure for he's always, always awake}
• loud things {terrible noises, doors slamming, glasses breaking, people screaming--he just wants to shut them up, just make them quietquietquiet}
• clingy people {when they touch it hurts and then he needs to stop them. besides they all want one thing--his cure, his quiet and he won't let them have it--not ever}
• thieves {thieves die first, tricky little liars with quick fingers that he's always sure to break. they won't have. he won't let them, won't let them take it, he'll kill them first}
• the lake {misty shores and glittering water. so calm and peaceful it makes him want to scream and rage and cry and he hates it all the more. it makes the voices ponder though. something hidden. something secret.}

GOALS!?! -

• to find a way to make the quiet last {then it won't hurt, not any more}
• keep his cure safe {it's not his fault, not his fault that they want it and that he must protect it and that killing them makes it hurt less, makes the voices purr even as the cure quiets them (seven though, seven spirits cry though and ask why)}

FEARS!?! -

• his cure will be taken away {and then he'll be left alone with nothing but the spirits again}
• being killed {the spirits scream at that, seven louder than the rest though they are more sad than frightened}
• being alone {it is a pity indeed, that he is alone already}

STRENGTHS!?! -

• intelligent
• powerful
• cold
• silver tongue

WEAKNESS!?! -

• disjointed
• easily angered
• mad
• paranoid

OVERALL!?! -

Paranoid, easily angered, prone to jumping to conclusions and about as bipolar as a rabbit on steroids while somehow managing to stay as blank faced as a clean board, needless to say Raeggos isn't the sanest elf in the world. Oh he has his moments when he seems almost clear, but at the drop of a hat he can become a seething pile of paranoia and stress. In his defense, the spirits constantly whispering away at his mind don't exactly help. Ah, but the teas and herbs he takes for that quiet him quite nicely.

It really is a pity that the herbs make him a bit more on edge than usual though.

Ah, but it's not his fault the people want to take his cure away from him is it? Men, women, children---they all want it and its up to him to stop him from taking it. Some might call it cold blooded but in truth, it's perfectly rational when one thinks about it. Sometimes, Raeggos finds that he doesn't need the tea at all if he kills enough of them. then the spirits quiet down quite nicely save seven, who always ask him why and tell him to stop but Raeggos has long since stopped listening to them.

[/blockquote]

EYES!?! - Pale gray and framed by thick lashes, they once held a look of torment. now, they hold nothing. {sometimes though, in his quieter moments when everything is mercifully silent, even the voices in his mind, and the haze of his herbs and teas is all but gone, one can almost see a look of regret, of pain and confusion--but those moments are rare indeed.}
HAIR!?! - Smooth and straight though with a slight wave, its dirty blonde, reaching down until the small of his back.
FACE!?! - He has an angular face, with high cheekbones. It could almost be considered feminine were it not for the masculine set of his jaw.
BODY!?! - At one time, Raeggos could have been consiered the pinncale of perfection. Fit in the way all elves are, he was lean, with corded muscles and a willowy frame. Now, with years alone to nothing but the torment of his own mind, he's more thin than muscular and his ribs are in plain view.
UNUSUAL!?! - Numerous scars, the most prominent being a long scar running down the length of his back. It stretches from his left shoulder and then wraps around until it hits his right hip bone. Various other's dot his body, white with age. His face however, is unmarked.
OVERALL!?! - Pleasing to look at, Raeggos doesn't look like how a madman should. He does not have wild hair nor an unkepmpt appearance. Sure there are often bags under his eyes and he's a bit thin--even for an elf--and quite scarred beneath the high necked shirts, all knitted of skin-tight material and trousers made of soft leather--but he does not look mad. He is of course, but that is quite besides the point.

Prone to wearing long sleeved shirts and tight pants that one would think would inhibit his movement but in fact don't, Raeggos tends to somehow manage being completely covered while leaving only a small amount to the imagination. He dislikes any sort of armor and tends to avoid all metals like the plague and avoids chain mail with the same sort of distaste. {the metal makes the spirits shriek, rage and scream. he's learned long ago to avoid it.}

[/size]

MOTHER!?! - Idril Shaelendren. dead. {once upon a time, she'd been a sorceress, a healder, but she hadn't been able to cure him. no no no no--and she paid. sorry, he was so sorry, but it wasn't him}
FATHER!?! - Olwë Shaelendren. dead. {with mother, and it hurt--it hurt---why?}
SIBLINGS!?! - four brothers and a sister. {too bad they're dead--dead dead dead, but it wasn't him---no---the spirits---the voices---not him--not raeggos; never raeggos}
IMPORTANT!?! - N/A
FINALLY!?! -

once upon a time, there was a little elf.

he had strong magic, the little elf, and it hurt him. his siblings—four older brothers and a younger sister-worried for him dearly but they could not help. not when spirits whispered dark things to his mind that only he could hear and not when he felt his magic rip away inside him, tearing at his lungs and heart until he thought might burst.

‘why raeggos, why do you cry?’ they asked him, each time he screamed at night. his mother searched for a cure, a way to make his magic hurt less while his father went through book after book, hoping for an answer.

but the little elf couldn’t answer—it hurt to speak, hurt to sleep and so they worried.

one day, his mother came to him. ‘raeggos,’ she whispered as his father stood a silent vigil behind her, ‘we found an answer. there is a ritual. a ritual we can try—your father found it in a book, one in the library that not even the king knows about. it is dangerous, but we would like to try.’ here she paused, cold hands clasping at his before she looked up at him with tear filled eyes. ‘please raeggos.’ she said. ‘please let us try.’

and so, the little elf let them try.

no one else knew, not even his siblings—for it was a dark book that his mother had found. one forbidden to even read, let alone open, but they were too desperate to care and the little elf just wanted it to stop—wanted the pain and the voices to end and so he stayed quiet.

and surprisingly, so did the spirits. they whispered not a word and for a moment, the little elf allowed himself to hope. that was when the world tilted and the spirits—so quiet before—began to laugh.

when the little elf woke, his parents were dead and his back hurt {hurthurthurt}. his mother’s hand was extended towards him, his father draped protectively over her and their blank eyes staring at him. {that night, the little elf gained two more voices to add to many, two which screamed and cried at him louder than the rest (notHISFAULTnotHISFAULT) }.

the little elf did not sleep much after that. he grew more quiet, more withdrawn, and his brothers and sisters worried all the more. their parents were gone, and so they only had each other and to see their brother in pain hurt them all the more.

and so, they came up with a plan. a plan to make the little elf smile—if only for a minute.

it was his little sister who came up with it. a trip to the lake—it would be fun, and there, there a surprise would be waiting.

{it really was a pity that the spirits did not like surprises and when the little elf woke, the world was dead, blackened and fried and he gained five more voices to the collection.}

time passed slowly after that and each night the little elf slept less and less.

soon, he was no longer so little. the spirits {with the extra seven who cried harder than the rest} grew louder and louder with each passing year and the elf grew more and more erratic. angry, some said, violent cried others. the elf paid them no heed, for how angry would they be, how violent, if they could not sleep, could not think, could not breathe? the spirits save seven agreed with him and whispered sweet things {dark things} into his ears but still the elf tried not to listen.

on the day of his four hundredth birthday the elf went to the king, begging for a way but the king {fair and peaceful and how the spirits hated him (except for the seven, they begged and pleaded though neither the elf nor king could not hear them)} could offer him no help for his magic was not the kind that could heal and was instead, the kind that could only see.

the spirits save seven laughed then, jeered and screamed and called to him and the elf’s temper grew shorter and shorter until he could take no more.

he went to the men then, the cosa nostra they called themselves, and that is where he found it.

found the cure—the way to make the spirits quiet.

it was a tiny plant, small enough to fit inside his palm but oh the things it did. the world grew quiet, the spirits silenced. he could think, he could breathe. the elf grew panicked then, terrified for if someone else found out, they would surely try to take it from him. the spirits save seven agreed and so, when the founders of his cure were sleeping, the elf slit their throats and cradled his cure to his chest.

the cosa nostra raged of course, as did the elves but the elf did not care.

he had his cure--his quiet.

and those who tried to take it away would pay. even if he had to make the world burn.

so all lyrics used are credited too PARAMORE, thee best female fronted band in the world. everything else is credited to rawr_dinosaur at caution. don't steal this template or take the credit off, if you do i shall be forced to come and pull your eyes out with a spork!?! 'cause you know you love sporks!?! and they are the best extracting eyeballs.

[♔ SONNA]