« Prev 1 Next » Reply Share Thread Facebook Twitter Tumblr LinkedIn MySpace Email Go to Previous Thread Next Thread Please make a selection first Author Topic: Natravil, Murdoch Michael (Read 213 times) murdoch Guest [send pm] Joined: January 1970 Posts: 0 Natravil, Murdoch Michael « Jun 26, 2009 12:16:27 GMT -6 » Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Back to Top Personal Information: [/b] O'Hare Year: Freshman (Took a couple of years out, in case you were wondering) Name: Murdoch Michael Natravil Alias: Muds, King of Glass Date of Birth: 4th June 1988 Age: 21 Nationality: British Ethnicity: Caucasian Blood Type: B- Height: 6'3" Weight: 187lbs Hair Colour: Brown Eye Color: Brown Handedness: Right Sexual Orientation: Bisexual[/ul] Physical Appearance: [/i] to know. Not because of any abnormality, but because he's beneath people, or at least, that's the way he comes across. Only his eyes burn; Murdoch never did learn to guard his emotions. They're bright, clear and always accusing. Otherwise, his expressions are subtle and wrought with a tiredness of life itself. Unless he's in private, but few have ever seen – and understood – the emotions reflected in them. Murdoch really comes to life in battle. Murdoch Michael Natravil is a picture of stark shades, a brutal masterwork painted in cold, frightening colours and brought to vivacity under thunderclouds and rain. He steals the spotlight within those scenes few others care to place themselves; the scenes the upper class would love to pretend don't exist. Red running into the gutters, un-sensationalised, grimy sex, cigarette butts in beer glasses. Bones, flesh, blood. Murdoch doesn't fit into the picture of society, into the American (or even British) Dream and he doesn't want to. That's not his place. His style is punk. Not the hot topic safety pins or bright, striped tights all the teen goths seem to adore but tight leather and denim pants, cheap T-shirts, chains, army surplus and a host of day to day wounds, aches. He has both nipples pierced, his right ear pierced three times and left once but no tattoos. Under closer inspection, the lines of his muscles aren't the only ones to trace, there are scars too: tons of lacerations on over his left shoulder, shoulder blade and ribs. His pretty, wavy hair's coarse as well as thick and his smile's as vicious as the lead pipe he just picked up... [/ul] Apparel & Accessories: Personality: [/i] his worldview was right and his ideology's been rock solid ever since. To Murdoch Michael Natravil, life is a gauntlet that's to be fought through every step and second of the way. Backing down is as good as suicide. Sometimes, however, Murdoch's prone to take things too far: a young man full of vulgar cynicism and misdirected anger, Murdoch's defiant when there's no cause for it and can be downright antagonistic at times. He's caustic, with no sense of propriety or self preservation despite, or perhaps because, of his years as 'class demonstration'. The System's punishments taught Murdoch to equate surviving pain with achievement and it's little surprise that the man labels proudly labels himself as masochistic. Outside of the classroom, Murdoch likes to subvert and pervert the pointless 'norms' of society. He's not going to pretend to like you, or bother exchanging civil discourse with enemies when he could hit them instead and if you invited him to the funeral of anyone but his closest, he'd show up in red leather. The brunet doesn't believe he'll amount to much in life but he's not depressed about it or greedy for more. Living the Dream never factored into his plans. All Murdoch really wants is to survive for as long as possible, to take what he can from life in order to provide for the people that matter to him. See, beneath all the layers of Murdoch's glass-sharp distrust is a man who genuinely cares, with all of his heart and soul, about those close to him and yes, about the state of society (you can't hate something so much without caring). He hates that some people are given better chances in life than others and resents being born into one of the 'lower' circles. He wishes it'd change, though is well aware he has all the chance of Santa at the foot of Satan of altering things himself. One day, he'd like to say he's 'resigned'... but hope can be a very cruel thing. [/ul] Miscellaneous Information: [/i] wants a motorcycle - Is a Gemini/Dragon sign [/ul] Combat: [/b] Strength: B Dexterity: C Constitution: B Wisdom: E Style: Street Style The real world doesn't play by the same rules as a dojo or a boxing ring. Formal training can only go so far, one way of fighting just isn't enough and so Murdoch's adapted and fights with a style that's a cannibalisation of styles, a compilation of fancy moves, dirty tricks and 'greatest hits' – all learned the hard way. Strengths: Years of trading hits against friend and foe alike have bolstered Murdoch's strength. The Brit hits hard and is fast and flexible enough to pose a credible threat to the majority of his peers. Still, it's not exactly surprising that the self-confessed masochist's biggest advantage is his endurance and stamina. Murdoch can take a lot of pain. Weaknesses: Unfortunately, Murdoch's biggest strength is also a weakness. Although his masochistic side's a relief against pain, it doesn't absolve his body of damage and the brunet pushes himself beyond what he can realistically take. In addition, Murdoch's moves are generally unrefined, he rarely utilises his surroundings and worst of all, he is heavily right dominant. His left shoulder in particular is a weak spot that sometimes needs no provocation to seize up. [/ul] History: [/i][/CENTER] Red, pink and orange light splintered through the floor length window to Murdoch's right, casting a long and splattered shadow across the floor. Sunset turned the city of Manchester black and amplified the sounds of traffic and chattering clubbers on the streets below. The distant thrum of a heavy baseline drifted up from beneath the floor and the Brit pictured in his mind the lurid neons and crackling lightning tubes spearing through the lower levels, he could see Jules smiling and serving drinks with a finesse few people ever managed, he could imagine the crowd around him, some random girl against his front and- Murdoch killed that train of thought then slumped to the ground, arms braced against his knees, and lit a cigarette. Regardless of Blitzkrieg's smoking policy, Murdoch doubted he'd make it through the night without the comforting presence of nicotine. The wooden double doors clicked, then creaked open and Murdoch stood, turning his back to the window and dusting his jeans off with his free hand before locking gazes with a faux-albino woman almost as tall as he was. Contact red eyes widened comically and she took two strides towards him before realising what she was doing and stopping, her hands fists at her sides. "Persephone," the brunet greeted. The woman grimaced in return, then pulled herself together and gestured to the door. "He'll see you now." Murdoch nodded, swallowed his words past the dry lump in his throat and walked past his now former friend into the 'throne room'. The door slammed closed behind him. The room was full of battered antiques and worn furniture. It looked more like the study of a rotting gothic mansion than the office of a club or gangleader but the blond stood beside the high-backed throne opposite had never taken to the norm, so it fitted that his sanctuary would be like this: a reflection of lost ages and dead dreams. Even the lighting looked decades old. The green lanterns hung on the walls were in sharp contrast to the flashy high-tech shit downstairs and on any other day, Murdoch might have preferred it. The brunet took a drag of his cigarette and winced as the gathered ash tumbled to the floor. He bowed his head and watched his feet as he strode forward, stopping right before the room's relic of a desk. "Sit." Murdoch looked up at the command, but regretted it at once. The towering blond stilled to ice when their eyes met but his gaze shot right through Murdoch, igniting a flood of guilt that spilled through his system and made him want to apologise, to explain. Not that Ashley-fucking-Lynch would ever, ever accept that kind of shit. He gestured to the chair on Murdoch's side of the table and the brunet took it, snuffed out his cigarette in the half-full ashtray and laid his hands palms down on the table. No weapons. No threat intended. "I-" In a movement so swift Murdoch barely saw it, Ashley twisted onto his great throne and sliced his hand through the air between them like a knife. "Shut up," he growled. "I wanted to meet the informant, since I'm helping him so much. That was my mistake." The blond smiled bitterly. "I figured I knew the guy... but I never guessed it would be you." Murdoch looked to his hands, watched them twitch as if they weren't part of his own body at all and tried to detach himself from the situation. Now wasn't the time for personal issues and emotional bullshit but shame was a tenacious feeling and one word kept drifting from the back of his mind: traitor. "Yer've known me too long." Ashley sighed as if in pain and waited until Murdoch raised his head once more. "Just say it. Is the AMA part of the System?" "No." The brunet's voice was cold and level. These words he'd practiced. "But they will be come Friday." With a shallow nod, the blond tossed a crumpled letter onto the desk, between Murdoch's hands. "It's for... just in case," Ashley explained. "The System's worse in America, y'know? There aren't so many groups like us over there." [/ul] Yeah, I got kinda lazy when it came to the 'History' section, so I apologise for that. I'll probably expand on it during role play but I didn't want to reveal everything straight away anyway. « Last Edit: Jun 28, 2009 3:58:30 GMT -6 by murdoch » Back to Top   z Guest [send pm] Joined: January 1970 Posts: 0 Natravil, Murdoch Michael « Jun 27, 2009 21:17:16 GMT -6 » Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Back to Top History feels more like a sample RP than an actual history, but whatever. Your weight: You said "Ideal" What we want is a number. So change that. The history can remain as is, I suppose, it's intriguing enough and gives you enough reason to be in. If another mod or admin has a problem, they might ask you to expand, but I'm accepting of it. Change the weight, and I can approve you. Back to Top   murdoch Guest [send pm] Joined: January 1970 Posts: 0 Natravil, Murdoch Michael « Jun 28, 2009 4:03:12 GMT -6 » Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Back to Top Yeah. In general, all the history samples I do are active, like actual writing or RP samples. Although most are a lot longer, which is why I feel bad about this ^.^ I've changed the weight but I may be way offt. I'm British so we don't have lbs or kg as our standard. « Last Edit: Jun 28, 2009 4:04:01 GMT -6 by murdoch » Back to Top   kussro Guest [send pm] Joined: January 1970 Posts: 0 Natravil, Murdoch Michael « Jul 5, 2009 23:35:53 GMT -6 » Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Back to Top Looks like you did what Fightmaster asked, so its good enough for me as well. Approved! Back to Top   Reply Share Thread Facebook Twitter Tumblr LinkedIn MySpace Email Go to Previous Thread Next Thread Please make a selection first