Post by Aurelian Florentin on Apr 20, 2011 20:56:24 GMT -6
| [atrb=width,450][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://i53.tinypic.com/35iw1ma.jpg] ~C'est le bien qui fait mal Je m'enivre de ce poison À en perdre la raison~    -AURELIAN GABRILE FLORENTINE- L'Ouragan. † January 18th. † Male. † Homosmexual. ~Les Bases~ MERLE NOIR |
†Rank: Leader of Merle Noir
†Degree: -----
†Location: Born in Toulouse, France
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~Votre Apparence~
His hair is a rusty kind of color. In some light it looks brown, in other light it looks red, and sometimes it look orange if the sun is bright enough on it. It's cut kind of short and choppy, and is almost always parted. Sometimes it coveres his right eye, other times he actually brushes it and pins it back. His eyes are a deep golden color and almost always betray his emotions. Not to say that he doesn't have a good poker face, because he does. His skin is pale and very very soft, but has years worth of abuse buried underneath it.
†Height: 5'9"
†Weight: 148 pounds
†Special Marks: He has scars across his back and on his thighs.
†Armory: He has a light armor under his clothes. It may be thin, but its tough. He has a dagger on his belt made of titanium and carbon.He also has a gun with titanium bullets.
†Sentimental Items: The Cast Iron Necklace representing Noir. He also has an empty dagger holster on his belt next to his actual dagger belt. He has a beaded bracelet on a thin leather string that his sister made.
†Face Claim: Sekihan~Nico Nico Singer
†Picture:Aure rockin out
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~Votre Personnalité~
But there's something deeper than the way he comes across to other people. He's very smart. He uses what he knows and what he can do to make his gang better and more efficient. He always fights for what he believes in and will do anything to succeed.
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†Strengths:
- Powerful speaker
- Brilliant mind, yes even criminally
- Kind, but firm
†Weaknesses:
- Mention of his past, though almost no one knows it
- Any girl named Isabelle
- Getting flowers
†Likes:
- Boys younger than himself. Okay so he's a bit of a perv.
- Roses and lilies
- Killing the beasts
†Dislikes:
- When things go wrong
- Alcohol, except aged dark wine
- Cruelty and unneeded violence
~Votre Histoire~
His parents were killed one awful night as the Zhivotnoye invaded their hometown of Toulouse. He and his sister hid in a cellar while his parents went off to fight. They were in the cellar for three whole days and nights before the Zhivotnoye left the town in ruins. They, along with few other survivors, packed up and journeyed to the only town left to be known to be safe. Bordeaux.
He was only 5, and left to care for this baby girl, Isabelle. By age 10 he was as affective as any parent, making sure the 5 year old girl went to school, had enough to eat, even if he had to steal it, and always had clean clothes, even though his were always dirty. Aure never went to school, taking odd jobs for little cash, sweeping off shop fronts, cleaning up trash, even fetching odd objects from one merchant to another.
By the time he was 15 he had a house and he and his sister lived perfectly fine, they didn't struggle very often because the work experience that Aure had made it easy to find jobs. He was strong, lean, and quite intelligent for a kid his age. And he was fast. That was always something people looked for.
Isabelle was going to be 11 the year that she was taken. Most people thought the Zhivotnoye had taken her. But it wasn't.
He had had to work late that night, coming home well after dark, even though things like that weren't really allowed with the curfew and all. The house was oddly quiet, and there was no fire in the fireplace as there always was when he returned home. There was no note, no anything. Instantly he caused a frenzy, panicking and tearing the house apart, and then knocking on every door, even though it was so late. He needed to find her.
After 3 days, his search came to an end...
An officer came to his door, just before dawn, just before he was to start his search one more. He told Aure to go with him, that there was something he needed to see. So he went with him, down to a little river just beyond the wall. That's when his world fell apart. Everything he had worked for, everything he had strived for.... Gone... Dead and gone... His sister lay in the river, her dress torn to shreds, her wavy blonde hair muddy and swaying back and forth with the waves, blood pouring from her body. She had been murdered... He didn't know it at the time. He had just thought that it was an attack by the Zhivotnoye.
Until the supposed officer grabbed his shoulders and tore off most of his clothes. What followed is unmentionable, but the "officer" left him there on the shore, staring across at his dead sister, curled in the mud, beaten and broken. He vowed that he would never forget the mans face, or his laugh... and that he would get his revenge....
But as his tired body gave into the cold, he faded into darkness.
Until he felt something wet on his cheek. Something wet and warm...
Slowly he opened his eyes, his breathing shallow and ragged. He had been out for awhile. It was a dream. It had to be. A Zhivotnoye. Right there. Their calls echoing around him. And yet they just slowly moved on, sniffing the ground, his sister, him...
The blood had attracted them, and yet, they simply moved on, not caring about the dead girl or the broken boy by the shore. He figured it was the mud or the water that threw off their sense of smell. But he was frozen in place until they left.
He went back to Toulouse with his sister's body the next day, fighting off the bout of hypothermia he had picked up. He watched them bury her, and placed fresh lilies on her grave.
Three years later his life was kind of back to normal. He never did forget that night, and after almost 2 months of straight drinking, went in to prostitution. But he never forgot to visit her grave every year. He lost his house and lived in and out of motels.
One day, one of his many that he spent on the streets, it began to rain, violently. The wind whipped across the entire city, and a small flash flood had dragged him off towards the edges of the town. He had never learned to swim and lay half drowned on the steps of a Chateau.
The women there took him in and called him L'Ouragan, or "The Hurricane" because of how he wound up in their clutches. His head had been severely wounded, and he couldn't remember anything for the first 3 days. Once he finally remembered, he thanked the women for their hospitality, but they insisted that he stayed there.
That's when he learned that the remaining Noir members came to the Chateau every now and then. It was like their secret hideout, and soon, he was among their ranks, forgetting about the down part of his life.
A few more years passed. He was barely 23 when they announced him the new leader of Merle Noir. He promised freedom to his people, freedom from the fear they lived in. Freedom to take the land back. Freedom to make the choices that so many had forgotten about.
Now Aurelian Gabrile Florentin is 24 years of age, and having difficulty keeping his growing gang at peace with the other lands. But his goal is to combine them all into one giant force and destroy the Zhivotnoye entirely.
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~Plus d'Informations~
†Experience: Too long, about 7 or 8 years.
†Your Favorite Color: Blues, Grays, white and Silver.
†Other Characters: First one
†Rules: I made em.
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