Jazz's Jumbled Junk

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[center][b]Name[/b][/center]

[b]Nickname(s):[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Ethnicity/Accent:[/b]
[b]Voice Pitch:[/b]
[b]Height:[/b]
[b]Eye Color/Shape:[/b]
[b]Hair Color/Style:[/b]
[b]Skin Color:[/b]
[b]Physiognomy:[/b]
[b]Clothing:[/b]
[b]Weapon of choice:[/b]
[b]Medical issues:[/b]
[b]Relationships:[/b]
[b]Role:[/b]
[b]Unusual Features:[/b]
[b]Hobbies:[/b]
[b]Personality:[/b]
[b]Skills/Talents/Abilities:[/b]
[b]Other:[/b]
[b]What is the role of the character in the story?[/b]
[b]How is the character introduced?[/b]
[b]How could you upset this character?[/b]
[b]What motivates this character?:[/b]
[b]What situation scares them?:[/b]
[b]Does the character give or take?:[/b]
[b]How do they want to be seen by others?:[/b]
[b]How are they seen by others?:[/b]
[b]How would they like to die?:[/b]

heh ';D

How Ilias came to be~

So when the YWP Forums were still up, there was a RP created about a kingdom called Kakopoios. I've honestly forgotten most of it, but I still have the character profile for my characters. One of them was Elias Moore. He was about 13-14 years old, and had really good control of his voice. He lived three lives: an assassin, a mischievous kid, and a somewhat wealthy individual. As an assassin he was known as "Skater" since he moved like someone skilled in ice skating. He has somewhat of a friend, who owns a potions and poisons shop and she is a cat magnet. Any cats just come to her and stick with her, so if you're missing a cat it's probably her fault. When he's wearing the mask, he deepens his voice. When he isn't killing people for a living, he dresses in the clothing of a poor person, and goes around doing vandalism, earning him another name: "Vandal". He slightly makes his voice higher pitched. Along the storyline, he ended up running into another assassin, and they both went inwards, towards the wealthier people to do a little assassinating. He still has the same scars, and the same tolerance training, just one took place in a low tech era, and this one is taking place in a more futuristic scene. And he's older, not a teen.

White in every direction
or is it black in this dimension?
I can see three-sixty
All around me endlessly

I don’t know how to get back
Will I fall or escape through a crack?
I don’t know which way to stagger
I’m with less facts than I’d rather

There’s no ground beneath me
I could be falling; I can’t feel any gravity
Every time I try to lay down I’m still standing
And so I’ll remain even after I’m done expending

Are they quiet or shouting?
This endless walk is tiring
I can't tell if this is real or fake
I won't know until I am awake

I don't know if this is bad
Others could see it like a drawing on a pad
I would ask but there's no one else around
I won't know if I'm not breathing until I've drowned

Solid ground
Floating over the ever-changing magma
What's invincible chips away on the edges
or dissolves from the core as steel rusts
into the dust whence it came from

My piece of land has dwindled within my life
and such a thing devastates another country and it's allies
it is a norm in my perspective and to line us side by side
it seems my supposed plateau has deteriorated from the core.

I know one day those bits of land which have broken off
will form anew, into a strong continent
As steel may rust and depreciate to little value
With time, it will become something better

waiting
sitting on that stool
looking out the window
typing away
as life goes by

what's going through my little pink brain
is asking the question that's hard to ask
making me wish the sky would rain
to wash my sorrow away

Is it wrong to think
that we're just waiting for someone to die
but what are we supposed to do
when they're all the way across the country?

well, he made his choice
death from what gives life
now
he's home

Swimming in this salty sea
Am I close to the dry shore?
The downpours come across me often
with icy water soaking me to the core
leaving me completely numb

this little bit of land
is barely staying afloat
it's always chipping away at the edges
I can count each board in this boat
on the fingers of my hands

the old man's returned to his golden dream
but I'm not ready to visit mine
nor do i wish to yearn for it
still living in this fiction
keep your mask on, reality

wear it for just a few more months
I'm not ready to see the g3nes19
it's pleasantville, everythings in grey
the color is slowly leaking in
don't let it rain again

don't color this world for it to return as it was

hup, two, three, four
hup, two, three, four
keep your feet moving
stay in pace with those around you
don't break the rhythm, don't become the weak link
there's no lying down in the middle of a war

you have things you need to do
it's alright to let the sea flow and crash
so long as you're putting one foot in front of the other
I know you're tired, but it'll all eventually become numb
there's no rest for the wicked

you're so close to the end
keep on going, keep on swimming
there's still so much to do, can't stop now
mourning will get it's time, but that time is not now
atlas will just have to shrug

it sucks now
you ain't seen the real thing yet
once you do, it'll be very real for you
and what was fractured will shatter, crumpled into a heap
but we've got to keep marching forward

Fear the cloud
for it is made from blood
and blood is thicker than water
for once it surrounds you
there's no returning from it's thrall

Fear the cloud
for what's sharp, will dull
quick gears slow with rust
inquisitive turns from curious to confused
the clear path smudges into the forest ground
and there's nothing to go but around in circles, lost in the dark

Fear the cloud
for there's no escaping it's deleterious effects
corriding and corrupting files
if I ever fall into the clutch of the fog
If you ever thought me a good friend
bring the hammer down