Post by scissors on Mar 6, 2010 17:37:42 GMT -5
Name
Avonus Flavin
Nickname(s)
Finn
Gender
Male
Age
Twenty four (24)
Sexuality
Bisexual
Appearance
full [Gilbert Nightray , Pandora Hearts]
Finn is slender and tall, reaching six feet in height and approximating one hundred and ninety pounds in weight (give or take). His ebony hair is glossy, flowing down over his crown in deep, thick locks, sleek as they clump together. It is long, a good portion of it reaching down past his eye to the edge of his nose.
His irises shine a vibrant, golden hazel color, glassy and mysterious. His eyes are cold, filled with a darkness aroused by the tainted history belonging to the man. His cream-pigmented skin can almost glow in certain lighting, angelic and literally golden. He's very bony, svelte and cleansed of any visible fat, his long legs especially so.
Clothing is an obsolete matter to him. He'll generally wear a dark-chocolate colored top hat on his head for whatever reasons, and at most times he will refuse to take it off. He wears very old-fashioned outfits, styled to look like something out of the Renaissance. White gloves clothe his bony fingers at all time, wrapped all the way up to his wrist, perhaps further, where they become buried by his long cuffs.
Personality
When one first sees this man, Finn- and a catchy name that- they often are not sure what to think. Because the first thing one sees upon looking at this man, Finn, are his eyes, such a gorgeously brilliant shade of golden. And so one locks eyes with the man, Finn, they glimpse something that many puzzle over. They see a spark, a lost friendliness, the ghost of a kind glimmer, but quickly faded away, quickly washed over with his usual dark glare. And the boy behind those eyes, Avonus Flavin, is gone, allowing one to meet the man who has replaced him.
Solemnity follows him around, a dog too attached to the shallow man who leads it. It is almost as though Finn creates a sudden seriousness in the atmosphere, through the flare in his eyes once the original happiness goes away, revealing unreadable irises of pure gold, glowering at you and setting a scenario with which one finds it extremely difficult to work with.
It is near impossible to speak to the man, for a novel of different reasons, though many of these are focused around the hardships and the evident finale of his absurdly unfortunate life, a background tainted with an undesirable series of agonizing events. It brings Locke to be very introverted, reserved and keeping to himself as he walks the streets, perhaps only opening up to the form of a Pokémon- creatures he feels he can lay true trust in, no matter how great. Including that of his own life.
For- and straying from Finn's sociability with humans such as himself- the young man gets along much more with Pokémon, discovering them to be trustworthy and generally kindred spirits he could stick to. Even those with lessened hearts- they were multiple times more reliable than humans. Humans, tainted with the sins inevitable (and so as not to drawl on and on about the seven deadly sins, shall we return to Finn's social life).
Perhaps, more basically, a cynic, irritable from experience with the crafty devils known as humans. Yes, he was part of the same species, but he did not deny his cons. He understood that he did not deserve the trust he did not offer to those around him. He understood that he was just as bad as those he mocked, those he despised in the confounds of his mind and his Pokémons'. He believes society is a menace, and heartily strives to stray from it, and become a better person. One who can change things. Motivated by his own life, and others' deaths, this is his dream. To create a better world, perhaps.
But even one with such compassionate ambitions is not perfect, for, as he so multiple times mentioned, owned the unfortunate necessities of reality. Sadism was his most negative quality, and one he disliked for obvious reasons. The joy of pain, watching the fear unfold on their faces as they fell, bodies to his whim. One could say that fantasizing death is strange. But sometimes, it is inevitable- for nobody has complete control over their own mind.
There is a boy within Finn, however, one who holds the past that has sculpted such an indeed mysterious man. Avonus, calm and carefree, no true focus on the burdens of his own life amongst others. Alas, very different from the persona of Finn Flavin, Avonus owns no remorse, and believes that everything happens for the best. Happy-go-lucky, a smile is always worn on his face, happiness overwhelmingly the most probable emotion you are likely to discover when meeting him. Avonus ; excitable, constantly jovial, and allied by a fantastic sense of humor.
But Avonus is dead, and in his place walks Finn. Cold-blooded and unsociable, silent and often times sadistic enough to dream the deaths of others. A mad flare in his eyes, unstoppable, and yet only in place of the calm and gentle smile of Avonus Flavin, the heart buried deep within Finn. And Finn strives to keep him there.
History
He never did like the name Avonus, deemed his upon birth, a gentle name, serene and carefree, and yet so reckless and unique. A name, in Avonus’s view, was like a rare jewel. The more unique and rare, the better. Pretty and elegant, qualities one must always seek for the name they will be known by for the life to follow, be it short or long. A name, not a simple matter. Avonus was a peculiar name—rare, yes, but so different and not in the least elegant. But he went along with it, for it was the name he had been burdened, and a name he had no choice but to carry with him through thick and thin.
Avonus’s parents were a pair of paupers, his father struggling to pay the rent of their home, though he was rarely there, and his mother sparing herself to the slavery of Avonus and his younger sister by five years, Gaelyn. She gave up the life she could have owned, and her own joy, to keep her two children alive and under good hands, safe and sound with the love and care of the woman. There was no soul left in her, only the body, working feverishly for nights to follow, struggling with Avonus, five years of age at the time, and the infant Gaelyn.
Eventually, the woman got sick, caught up with by a rare disease—a plague of sorts, one that could prove fatal if not handled well. But she continued to work. Work for her children, work for her family, work for her home. She exerted herself and died of the sickness, which had slowly and agonizingly collaborated her demise. She collapsed on the kitchen floor, while cooking for her children. Taken to the hospital, she died within the following night.
His father couldn’t manage to stay at home to watch the children and continue to work for their lives at the same time. So he did the logical thing, for their sakes. He put them up, abandoned them, and went on with his life, now a lonely man with no family.
Avonus and Gaelyn were separated, for the infant female was prized among the rich seeking a child to care for their own when they could not produce one. Being an infant—and a female at that—she was quickly chosen, leaving Avonus on his own, a five year old boy in an orphanage. One would think that this was his downfall, where Finn arrived and posessed the body of a once happy and fun-loving boy.
But surprisingly, Avonus stayed. Grew even more friendly, perhaps. He found that he liked the orphanage. They fed him, they took care of him, like his mother had (though they had multiple people, and none of them died in front of him). He made friends. Lots of nice friends, but they were all temporary. They came. They went. They came. They went. Someone always chos one of them, but never Avonus Flavin.
Eventually, Avonus Flavin would be alone, and he knew it. But he didn’t let his hopes falter. He kept his head held high, kept a smile on his small face, and laughed with all the passing friends. And he pretended everything was alright. He pretended that one day, a friend would arrive, one he could cherish and play with, one who would never leave poor Avonus. And she did.
He was eleven at the time, and had met many friends in the past six years. He was growing into a fine boy, elegant and swift, but every year that passed brought him closer to his demise. The older you got, the less they wanted you. He would leave the orphanage without a parent, at eighteen, to be his own person. He was fine with that, he had decided. He would have to live with it, for there was no other path to take. Nobody wanted the ebony-haired boy who watched his friends leave, and new ones arrived. He was pitied by the orphanage.
And then she arrived. Adelaide Crow, a girl his age, whose parents had both died in a car accident. She was not bestowed with beauty, however, ugly in exterior, but so beautiful inside that Avonus would have married her had he gotten the chance. They became close friends, the two that would never be chosen. They protected each other, took care of one another, and Avonus opened up to her.
The years passed, and Avonus grew to fifteen, Adelaide to sixteen. She was permitted to leave, sixteen being the age in which those at the orphanage were free to accustom themselves to their own life, to leave and become their own person. And she did. She left Avonus at the first opportunity, and it dawned at him that she had never really liked him—or, at the last, it seemed that way. He cried. The smile faded. Eventually, he gave up. His sixteenth birthday arrived, and he left.
And abandoned the life he'd known.
Changing his name to Finn, he became a traveler of sorts- for the next two years, he was on his own, with no companionship, left to think things over. He lived on his own, survived on his own, through some manner of existence. He abandoned thoughts about his mother. His father. Gaelyn. Adelaide. The orphanage. They had all left him at some point. He was meant to be independent. He wasn't meant for friends or family.
He became his own person, aside from Pokémon- and eventually, Pokémon became his life. At eighteen, he received a Vulpix, tripodial and lacking the back leg to his right, gnawed off by a wild Seviper. The Vulpix became his friend, his companion- his family, even. Finn grew to trust it, to the extent of his life.
And then it was gone. It had been two more years, and the Vulpix had long evolved to a Ninetales. It was his only Pokémon, and he liked it that way. It died, apparently from some sort of heart attack, and left Finn. And he was alone once more, the sole person in his own life. He decided it was meant to be that way- but in two years, he decided something. A Pokémon was worth it. You could trust them. You could give them your life in exchange for their companionship.
He went to Mysste, to become a Trainer, and got a starter from the Laboratory. Finn Flavin- not Avonus- was starting anew. Now stripped of everything, he had no other choice.
Chosen Path
Breeder[/size]
