Post by »theINFECTED on Oct 30, 2010 17:05:55 GMT -6
Tell us about yourself
Name/alias: DANGER
Age: EIGHTEEN
How long have you been RPing? FOREVER
Do you have any other characters on the site? EDEN AVERY, ADMIN
Your character; bare bones
Name: Tamesis Braeden Jaser
Age: Ageless, but technically 69. (Yes, I did have to.)
Location: Mainly Chicago, but he has been known to roam.
Immune or Carrier? THE infected.
Skills: Infecting people and killing them because he’s a beastly badass mothafucka! Mmhm.
Status: Searching for a mate to infect and kill people with. So far, he has not been successful.
Celebrity face: Rob Zombie
Picture:
Brief appearance description: Tamesis is a beast. Literally. He is relatively tall, standing at a height of 6’9” with a hunch, and 7’3” without it. But his hunch adds to his character. While he is definitely not a Quasimodo of any type, Tamesis is certainly big boned and muscular. His frame is disproportionate but functions perfectly—even better than a normal human’s. The thick shoulders and buff arms, combined with strong legs and a lean, mean torso come together to create a big, hairy monster. But he’s not the fuzzy kind of hairy that makes people want to pet and him. His hair is matted, tangled, and overall disgusting with its thick, coarse texture. The only defining physical trait that Tamesis possesses is an “x” shaped scar in between his eyebrows. This “x” was a scar from his life as a human—a life long forgotten.
Inside their head.
Personality:
Likes:
Dislikes:
Strengths:
Weaknesses:
Fears:
Family:
Arianna Celeste Jaser – deceased, aged 51
Caden Allen Jaser – carrier, aged 24
Carolyn Roma Jaser – infected, aged 21
History: Let’s go back sixty-nine years, to August 27, 1991, to Uruguay. Two unmarried lovers, both screaming, one in pain, the other in excitement. A child produced by the hands of a doctor cloaked in blood-splattered white. Birth was magical—it was the beginning of a new life, a new voice, a new vision. But his birth was not. His birthday was the day his mother died, writhing in pain, to bring him into the world. A risky procedure, a plethora of medical complications—a child born, and a lover lost.
He was raised by a single father, which left much to be desired. How could his father devote himself to his impaired child when there was work to be done and money to be made? As a result, Tamesis was raised by the hands of strangers. So often was he in someone else’s hands that his own father’s hands felt foreign to him. But those hands didn’t know how to care for him; no one’s hands knew how to convey the love he needed. The hands he met never reached out to embrace him, but withdrew from his abnormal body. He was overweight with strange proportions that did not belong to a child fit to be a man. He was no monster, but a wretch shunned but those who knew not how to love—his father, above all else.
To his father, Tamesis was the scapegoat. It was Tamesis’s fault that his one and only passed away before he could propose to her; for that, he was punished severely. Nightly, he would find his father home, a bottle of vodka in one hand, his belt in the other. It was inevitable, as every night was. Screaming never helped, it only made the lashes harder and more repetitive. Escape was never an option—who would take him in? Who would want a child with his deformities, with his retardation? Helpless, what more could he do than love he who tolerated him, and in return, tolerate the blows of his father’s own helplessness?
Tamesis was the root of all evil, the cause of every problem, the murderer of his father’s lover, and the burden of his father’s life. If he had been capable of morbid thoughts, of comprehending the detestation of those around him, he would have thought suicide more suitable than to continue living with his father and in the care of strangers. But he was utterly incapable of those thoughts. He lived by blindly following his father’s wishes for fear of facing his wrath which came regardless. He subjected himself to work any job he could maintain, most of which were for the subhuman. But he was not a man in the eyes of others.
Each year he lived slipped by quietly without notice. By his twenty-first birthday, Tamesis had no inkling of his age. No one doubted his failure to inform others when asked—he had several mental deficits. At this point in his life, he worked as a harmless janitor at a mental institution. It was fitting to put himself in a place where he was with others similar to himself despite security risks. Although he was never admitted for help, Tamesis found a sense of salvation among the socially insane. To him, they all seemed perfectly normal. Maybe this was the only place where he truly belonged. But he never questioned his father; he never questioned his place at home or the abuse he suffered. Hurt and neglect had become a part of his life—he had never witnessed anything different; he had never known a kind word, an accepting smile, a gentle embrace.
…until Arianna stepped into his life.
To be honest, Tamesis was horrible with women. And if he was horrible with people in general, then he was atrocious with women. Not only was he shy, he was terrified. He had never had any form of intimacy with a woman—he’d never had a mother, a sister, or even a friend. When Arianna had seen him blundering in the hallways, she couldn’t help but be amused at his expense. But her laughter was kind, different than the mocking snickers he had always received; her smile was accepting, not a smirk that scorned his existence.
He didn’t know that. He had always avoided women. Tamesis’s behavior towards her advances allowed Arianna to look into his life without ever knowing him. She was a psychiatrist, after all, trained to analyze people based on what they did, or didn’t, say and do. When she approached him, he withdrew from her. Their first conversations followed a staccato structure with choppy and brief statements. But Arianna persisted, drawn to his abnormal appearance and personality. She would talk to him every day and try to break past his insecure shell. She found that this was near impossible. But years of “Hello”s and “How are you”s warmed Tamesis to her, and he found himself able to communicate better as the years continued.
One evening, Arianna offered Tamesis a ride home. Normally, he took a bus and then walked because his father could never be bothered by the likes of him. Although he did not actually know the way to his house from the bus stop, Arianna used a GPS. When she pulled up in front of the shack-house, the two sat awkwardly together. Then Tamesis moved. He pulled on the handle, but found the door still locked. Confused, he turned and looked at Arianna. He was scared. He was caged in the car with this strange person, who he had known for years, but had never really been intimate with. His imagination ran wild until he saw her move her arm and rest it behind his neck. She shifted her body and slowly, unsurely, leaned forward. Tamesis began to fidget. She withdrew.
His father had seen it all. From the silhouettes, he assumed that she kissed him—or he had kissed her. Instantly, jealousy raged within him and, coupled with the alcohol, redlined him. He burst out of the door, vodka in hand, and stormed to the car. First, he tried to open the door. When he couldn’t, he slammed his palms against the window in frustration and dropped the bottle of vodka on the ground, heading back inside to get something—anything—he could to break the window.
But Arianna was not a stupid woman and she did not stay to wait for him to return. She turned on the car and sped away from Tamesis’s home to any other place. His father did not follow. Tamesis was terrified.
It took him days to speak to her again about something other than his father and home. Tamesis had been fired from his job due failure to report and Adrianna decided to take her vacation. For the first week, she convinced him to stay where it was safe: with her. She knew he didn’t know his way home and wouldn’t be able to talk to anyone around. He was too impaired; he was too scared. By the time her vacation was over, Tamesis was tame enough to stay at Arianna’s alone. He was a creature of routine; so long as she could create a routine for him, he would follow it with minimal complications.
When Christmas came around, she sat down with Tamesis for dinner. The two enjoyed a normal meal. Suddenly, Arianna’s easygoing expression became more focused and serious.
“Do you want to move to the United States, Tamesis?” she asked him. Silence answered. She persisted. “We could start a new life together. You won’t have to worry about your father. We can meet new people. You would enjoy it.”
Silence.
“I’ve already looked into an apartment for us. The tickets are set. I thought this would be a good Christmas present to you. A new place. New people. A new life. A happier life.”
The adjustment to Chicago, IL was relatively easy for Arianna. For Tamesis, it was much more difficult. If communication in Uruguay wasn’t hard enough, trying to interact with Americans who either spoke English, Spanish, or some type of Asian was impossible. Few people saw beyond his hideous deformities, and even fewer reached out to embrace his abnormality. He was isolated, just as he was in Uruguay. His appearance served as a physical barrier, and his language served as a communicative barrier. There was no hope for him. He was alone, aside from Arianna.
In the United States, he found himself closer than ever to Arianna. This worked perfectly for her. She proposed to him and he blindly agreed to it. How could he deny her anything? She was the only person in his life who had ever shown him kindness and acceptance. He was indebted to her. He didn’t understand why, but he felt that he had to please her. Everything she asked for, he agreed to. The wedding was planned. He said “I do.”
The honeymoon was an emotional disaster for Tamesis. They had gone to Amsterdam—the Red Light District to be specific. He had no inkling of what sex was and Arianna would have to teach him. As they walked down the streets, Tamesis found himself fascinated, yet disturbed. He had never seen women so exposed—not even Arianna. He clung to her as she spoke, explaining to him prostitution and, ultimately, sex. It sounded torturous to him. A man putting himself in a woman? How could a woman tolerate a man inside of her; how could a man stand to be squished inside of a woman? It was unnatural and obscene.
By the end of the first night, Tamesis was absolutely blown away. He was confused out of his mind. In the motel room, they began to settle into bed. It seemed normal until he realized they would be sharing a bed. When Arianna came out of the bathroom, he noticed that instead of her modest pajamas, she was exposed like the prostitutes of Amsterdam. Her fair skin looked pasty beneath the black fabric. Corset. Gloves. Boots. She looked ominous to him; she looked like she would hurt him. And she did.
Locked in the room and enslaved by her will, Tamesis could do nothing. By some design of fate, he had married an extremely patient sadist. She had waited years until he was under her possession, and finally, after legally binding him to her, she would have her way with him. Like him, she had been physically shunned by the world. She was hideous in her own way: underweight with sunken features and cursed with an underdeveloped body. But she was fortunate. While her body was damned, her mind was blessed. An educated woman and a respectable psychiatrist, she at least had the ability to gain respect. Tamesis did not. He was as dumb and dull as a block of wood, though a block of wood had more will and resistance than he. Whatever she demanded, he obeyed. He knew hurt and pain, like any animal did.
Arianna became pregnant with their son, Caden, during their honeymoon. During her pregnancy, Arianna was highly irritable. She screamed and abused as badly as Tamesis’s father—if not worse. To be less that obedient was to suffer the punishment of a criminal. But even as he tried to the best of his abilities, he was unable to care for her as she came to term. After Caden’s birth, he failed her as the father of her child. He could hardly take care of himself—how could he ever raise a child? And as if one child wasn’t enough, Arianna became pregnant again three years later and gave birth to a girl: Carolyn.
Having children with Tamesis was a bad decision on Arianna’s part, but she wanted more than anything to be the mother of a daughter. Often, she found that she could not leave Tamesis alone with the children when they were toddlers. He was too much of a baby himself. Almost ten years after Carolyn, she was fired. Her practice had been slipping since she herself needed help. Their life went into an economic ruin after her discharge. She was too proud to file for unemployment and Tamesis was too disabled. They were hopeless. Utterly hopeless.
To say that life improved as the children got older would be a complete lie. If anything, the quality of life regressed as time inched forward. Having children was a financial strain in his life. After Arianna was let go, the family of four was evicted. Tamesis couldn’t understand why they were living on the streets or temporarily finding an escape in shelters. He asked “why” as often as his children, driving Arianna closer and closer to the brink of insanity. His innocence to their situation only irritated her. It didn’t help that the children complained constantly, either.
It wasn’t until the Mange virus came along that life “improved.” The Jasers had been homeless for almost two years. Tamesis was the first to catch the airborne disease. At first, Arianna thought he had just caught some illness. She couldn’t care for him; he was neglected, just like the children, just like herself. It didn’t matter. As the infection took him over, he became more reckless and untamed. By the time the full transformation had taken place, Tamesis was just as disoriented as he had always been, but he had regressed to a primal creature who thought with his instincts rather than his brain. All the better for him, as his physicality fueled his bloodlust.
He began with his family. Carolyn was his first attempt. He had managed to sink his teeth into her, but Caden strove to save his sister. She was the only thing he really had in his life; his mother was negligent and his father was mentally impaired. The only person he could identify with was his sister. At fourteen, he realized that his father wasn’t quite his father after the disease struck him. There was no use fighting once he had Carolyn; all they could do was run. So they ran. They ran and hid and left Arianna to defend herself from their father.
Tamesis, had he been short of prey, would have chased the two children down and probably have devoured them. But Arianna had been there for him. She had been knocked unconscious by the chaos caused by Tamesis’s chase for Carolyn. When she had finally begun to regain consciousness, she only saw her children’s running feet going as far away as they could. She pushed herself onto her hands in an attempt to begin following them, but Tamesis’s insatiable thirst for human nourishment directed his feral attention to his wife. He lunged at her, pinned her down beneath his weight, and, by the end of the night, devoured her.
After his wife’s murder, Tamesis began to wander aimlessly, searching for someone--anyone--to devour. As the disease spread, he simply found himself occasionally with other infecteds in a search for food. However, his antisocial personality seemed to have carried over into his infected persona, making him a wanderer by nature.
What do you think of this situation?
Could be worse.
RP sample: I refuse and you can’t do anything about it because I’ll just accept myself! Hmph!
Name/alias: DANGER
Age: EIGHTEEN
How long have you been RPing? FOREVER
Do you have any other characters on the site? EDEN AVERY, ADMIN
Your character; bare bones
Name: Tamesis Braeden Jaser
Age: Ageless, but technically 69. (Yes, I did have to.)
Location: Mainly Chicago, but he has been known to roam.
Immune or Carrier? THE infected.
Skills: Infecting people and killing them because he’s a beastly badass mothafucka! Mmhm.
Status: Searching for a mate to infect and kill people with. So far, he has not been successful.
Celebrity face: Rob Zombie
Picture:
Brief appearance description: Tamesis is a beast. Literally. He is relatively tall, standing at a height of 6’9” with a hunch, and 7’3” without it. But his hunch adds to his character. While he is definitely not a Quasimodo of any type, Tamesis is certainly big boned and muscular. His frame is disproportionate but functions perfectly—even better than a normal human’s. The thick shoulders and buff arms, combined with strong legs and a lean, mean torso come together to create a big, hairy monster. But he’s not the fuzzy kind of hairy that makes people want to pet and him. His hair is matted, tangled, and overall disgusting with its thick, coarse texture. The only defining physical trait that Tamesis possesses is an “x” shaped scar in between his eyebrows. This “x” was a scar from his life as a human—a life long forgotten.
Inside their head.
Personality:
- Curious: Although Tamesis still bears a striking resemblance to a human, all that was truly human about him was lost, destroyed by the infection that overtook his body. As a result, his behavior is primitive and animal like. However, his curiosity could be his most human of all traits. He doesn’t make discoveries that have to do with science, but he’s always curious. He’s not necessarily patient enough to find the right answers all the time, but he’s curious enough to wander around his setting, to see how things function in interaction with each other, and, of course, to discover what satiates his hunger most and which flavors drive him crazy.
- Irrational: Logic and reason was something that Tamesis was born with, but something he lost to the infection. His primal ability to “logic and reason” is rooted in his needs; if he’s hungry, he’ll hunt. Whenever he encounters someone who may believe that he can be saved from the infection or can be tamed, he normally proves them wrong…by infecting or killing them. His actions are wild and he can’t properly gauge how to spend his energy; the intensity with which he slaughters humans is similar to the intensity of hunting a rabbit. Sometimes it’s a bit overkill, but what’s to be expected from a violent, irrational creature?
- Violent: Some people believe it’s human nature to be violent, but in Tamesis’s case, it’s simply nature. Instinct. In order for something like him to survive—something so big and bulky—he must be a predator. But even predators understand the necessity of energy conservation. Tamesis does not. He is excessively violent, possibly due to his irrationality. Either way, he loves to maim and maul; his bloodlust in simply insane.
- Sporadic: Tamesis doesn’t really think things through. It’s hard to say whether or not he actually thinks. He acts on instinct, much like other animals, and he never questions that impulse. As a result, he’s pretty random. If something inside of him tells him to run mid-maul, he’ll stop mauling and book it out of there. His instinct isn’t always danger-proof, as evident by scars and wounds, but there’s really no telling what the beast will do. Of course he reacts, and sometimes it’s as expected. Other times, he acts first. That’s just how he is.
Likes:
- Violence
- Blood
- Roaming
- Hunting
- Silence
- Darkness
- Adrenaline rushes
Dislikes:
- Ruckuses
- Disturbances
- Brightness
- Loudness
- People
- Animals
Strengths:
- Physique
- Inhuman
- Malice
Weaknesses:
- Brightness
- Loudness
- Lone Wolf
Fears:
- Being preyed on
- Fire
- Lightning
Family:
Arianna Celeste Jaser – deceased, aged 51
Caden Allen Jaser – carrier, aged 24
Carolyn Roma Jaser – infected, aged 21
History: Let’s go back sixty-nine years, to August 27, 1991, to Uruguay. Two unmarried lovers, both screaming, one in pain, the other in excitement. A child produced by the hands of a doctor cloaked in blood-splattered white. Birth was magical—it was the beginning of a new life, a new voice, a new vision. But his birth was not. His birthday was the day his mother died, writhing in pain, to bring him into the world. A risky procedure, a plethora of medical complications—a child born, and a lover lost.
He was raised by a single father, which left much to be desired. How could his father devote himself to his impaired child when there was work to be done and money to be made? As a result, Tamesis was raised by the hands of strangers. So often was he in someone else’s hands that his own father’s hands felt foreign to him. But those hands didn’t know how to care for him; no one’s hands knew how to convey the love he needed. The hands he met never reached out to embrace him, but withdrew from his abnormal body. He was overweight with strange proportions that did not belong to a child fit to be a man. He was no monster, but a wretch shunned but those who knew not how to love—his father, above all else.
To his father, Tamesis was the scapegoat. It was Tamesis’s fault that his one and only passed away before he could propose to her; for that, he was punished severely. Nightly, he would find his father home, a bottle of vodka in one hand, his belt in the other. It was inevitable, as every night was. Screaming never helped, it only made the lashes harder and more repetitive. Escape was never an option—who would take him in? Who would want a child with his deformities, with his retardation? Helpless, what more could he do than love he who tolerated him, and in return, tolerate the blows of his father’s own helplessness?
Tamesis was the root of all evil, the cause of every problem, the murderer of his father’s lover, and the burden of his father’s life. If he had been capable of morbid thoughts, of comprehending the detestation of those around him, he would have thought suicide more suitable than to continue living with his father and in the care of strangers. But he was utterly incapable of those thoughts. He lived by blindly following his father’s wishes for fear of facing his wrath which came regardless. He subjected himself to work any job he could maintain, most of which were for the subhuman. But he was not a man in the eyes of others.
Each year he lived slipped by quietly without notice. By his twenty-first birthday, Tamesis had no inkling of his age. No one doubted his failure to inform others when asked—he had several mental deficits. At this point in his life, he worked as a harmless janitor at a mental institution. It was fitting to put himself in a place where he was with others similar to himself despite security risks. Although he was never admitted for help, Tamesis found a sense of salvation among the socially insane. To him, they all seemed perfectly normal. Maybe this was the only place where he truly belonged. But he never questioned his father; he never questioned his place at home or the abuse he suffered. Hurt and neglect had become a part of his life—he had never witnessed anything different; he had never known a kind word, an accepting smile, a gentle embrace.
…until Arianna stepped into his life.
To be honest, Tamesis was horrible with women. And if he was horrible with people in general, then he was atrocious with women. Not only was he shy, he was terrified. He had never had any form of intimacy with a woman—he’d never had a mother, a sister, or even a friend. When Arianna had seen him blundering in the hallways, she couldn’t help but be amused at his expense. But her laughter was kind, different than the mocking snickers he had always received; her smile was accepting, not a smirk that scorned his existence.
He didn’t know that. He had always avoided women. Tamesis’s behavior towards her advances allowed Arianna to look into his life without ever knowing him. She was a psychiatrist, after all, trained to analyze people based on what they did, or didn’t, say and do. When she approached him, he withdrew from her. Their first conversations followed a staccato structure with choppy and brief statements. But Arianna persisted, drawn to his abnormal appearance and personality. She would talk to him every day and try to break past his insecure shell. She found that this was near impossible. But years of “Hello”s and “How are you”s warmed Tamesis to her, and he found himself able to communicate better as the years continued.
One evening, Arianna offered Tamesis a ride home. Normally, he took a bus and then walked because his father could never be bothered by the likes of him. Although he did not actually know the way to his house from the bus stop, Arianna used a GPS. When she pulled up in front of the shack-house, the two sat awkwardly together. Then Tamesis moved. He pulled on the handle, but found the door still locked. Confused, he turned and looked at Arianna. He was scared. He was caged in the car with this strange person, who he had known for years, but had never really been intimate with. His imagination ran wild until he saw her move her arm and rest it behind his neck. She shifted her body and slowly, unsurely, leaned forward. Tamesis began to fidget. She withdrew.
His father had seen it all. From the silhouettes, he assumed that she kissed him—or he had kissed her. Instantly, jealousy raged within him and, coupled with the alcohol, redlined him. He burst out of the door, vodka in hand, and stormed to the car. First, he tried to open the door. When he couldn’t, he slammed his palms against the window in frustration and dropped the bottle of vodka on the ground, heading back inside to get something—anything—he could to break the window.
But Arianna was not a stupid woman and she did not stay to wait for him to return. She turned on the car and sped away from Tamesis’s home to any other place. His father did not follow. Tamesis was terrified.
It took him days to speak to her again about something other than his father and home. Tamesis had been fired from his job due failure to report and Adrianna decided to take her vacation. For the first week, she convinced him to stay where it was safe: with her. She knew he didn’t know his way home and wouldn’t be able to talk to anyone around. He was too impaired; he was too scared. By the time her vacation was over, Tamesis was tame enough to stay at Arianna’s alone. He was a creature of routine; so long as she could create a routine for him, he would follow it with minimal complications.
When Christmas came around, she sat down with Tamesis for dinner. The two enjoyed a normal meal. Suddenly, Arianna’s easygoing expression became more focused and serious.
“Do you want to move to the United States, Tamesis?” she asked him. Silence answered. She persisted. “We could start a new life together. You won’t have to worry about your father. We can meet new people. You would enjoy it.”
Silence.
“I’ve already looked into an apartment for us. The tickets are set. I thought this would be a good Christmas present to you. A new place. New people. A new life. A happier life.”
The adjustment to Chicago, IL was relatively easy for Arianna. For Tamesis, it was much more difficult. If communication in Uruguay wasn’t hard enough, trying to interact with Americans who either spoke English, Spanish, or some type of Asian was impossible. Few people saw beyond his hideous deformities, and even fewer reached out to embrace his abnormality. He was isolated, just as he was in Uruguay. His appearance served as a physical barrier, and his language served as a communicative barrier. There was no hope for him. He was alone, aside from Arianna.
In the United States, he found himself closer than ever to Arianna. This worked perfectly for her. She proposed to him and he blindly agreed to it. How could he deny her anything? She was the only person in his life who had ever shown him kindness and acceptance. He was indebted to her. He didn’t understand why, but he felt that he had to please her. Everything she asked for, he agreed to. The wedding was planned. He said “I do.”
The honeymoon was an emotional disaster for Tamesis. They had gone to Amsterdam—the Red Light District to be specific. He had no inkling of what sex was and Arianna would have to teach him. As they walked down the streets, Tamesis found himself fascinated, yet disturbed. He had never seen women so exposed—not even Arianna. He clung to her as she spoke, explaining to him prostitution and, ultimately, sex. It sounded torturous to him. A man putting himself in a woman? How could a woman tolerate a man inside of her; how could a man stand to be squished inside of a woman? It was unnatural and obscene.
By the end of the first night, Tamesis was absolutely blown away. He was confused out of his mind. In the motel room, they began to settle into bed. It seemed normal until he realized they would be sharing a bed. When Arianna came out of the bathroom, he noticed that instead of her modest pajamas, she was exposed like the prostitutes of Amsterdam. Her fair skin looked pasty beneath the black fabric. Corset. Gloves. Boots. She looked ominous to him; she looked like she would hurt him. And she did.
Locked in the room and enslaved by her will, Tamesis could do nothing. By some design of fate, he had married an extremely patient sadist. She had waited years until he was under her possession, and finally, after legally binding him to her, she would have her way with him. Like him, she had been physically shunned by the world. She was hideous in her own way: underweight with sunken features and cursed with an underdeveloped body. But she was fortunate. While her body was damned, her mind was blessed. An educated woman and a respectable psychiatrist, she at least had the ability to gain respect. Tamesis did not. He was as dumb and dull as a block of wood, though a block of wood had more will and resistance than he. Whatever she demanded, he obeyed. He knew hurt and pain, like any animal did.
Arianna became pregnant with their son, Caden, during their honeymoon. During her pregnancy, Arianna was highly irritable. She screamed and abused as badly as Tamesis’s father—if not worse. To be less that obedient was to suffer the punishment of a criminal. But even as he tried to the best of his abilities, he was unable to care for her as she came to term. After Caden’s birth, he failed her as the father of her child. He could hardly take care of himself—how could he ever raise a child? And as if one child wasn’t enough, Arianna became pregnant again three years later and gave birth to a girl: Carolyn.
Having children with Tamesis was a bad decision on Arianna’s part, but she wanted more than anything to be the mother of a daughter. Often, she found that she could not leave Tamesis alone with the children when they were toddlers. He was too much of a baby himself. Almost ten years after Carolyn, she was fired. Her practice had been slipping since she herself needed help. Their life went into an economic ruin after her discharge. She was too proud to file for unemployment and Tamesis was too disabled. They were hopeless. Utterly hopeless.
To say that life improved as the children got older would be a complete lie. If anything, the quality of life regressed as time inched forward. Having children was a financial strain in his life. After Arianna was let go, the family of four was evicted. Tamesis couldn’t understand why they were living on the streets or temporarily finding an escape in shelters. He asked “why” as often as his children, driving Arianna closer and closer to the brink of insanity. His innocence to their situation only irritated her. It didn’t help that the children complained constantly, either.
It wasn’t until the Mange virus came along that life “improved.” The Jasers had been homeless for almost two years. Tamesis was the first to catch the airborne disease. At first, Arianna thought he had just caught some illness. She couldn’t care for him; he was neglected, just like the children, just like herself. It didn’t matter. As the infection took him over, he became more reckless and untamed. By the time the full transformation had taken place, Tamesis was just as disoriented as he had always been, but he had regressed to a primal creature who thought with his instincts rather than his brain. All the better for him, as his physicality fueled his bloodlust.
He began with his family. Carolyn was his first attempt. He had managed to sink his teeth into her, but Caden strove to save his sister. She was the only thing he really had in his life; his mother was negligent and his father was mentally impaired. The only person he could identify with was his sister. At fourteen, he realized that his father wasn’t quite his father after the disease struck him. There was no use fighting once he had Carolyn; all they could do was run. So they ran. They ran and hid and left Arianna to defend herself from their father.
Tamesis, had he been short of prey, would have chased the two children down and probably have devoured them. But Arianna had been there for him. She had been knocked unconscious by the chaos caused by Tamesis’s chase for Carolyn. When she had finally begun to regain consciousness, she only saw her children’s running feet going as far away as they could. She pushed herself onto her hands in an attempt to begin following them, but Tamesis’s insatiable thirst for human nourishment directed his feral attention to his wife. He lunged at her, pinned her down beneath his weight, and, by the end of the night, devoured her.
After his wife’s murder, Tamesis began to wander aimlessly, searching for someone--anyone--to devour. As the disease spread, he simply found himself occasionally with other infecteds in a search for food. However, his antisocial personality seemed to have carried over into his infected persona, making him a wanderer by nature.
What do you think of this situation?
Could be worse.
RP sample: I refuse and you can’t do anything about it because I’ll just accept myself! Hmph!