BALTHAZAR, ASHER TIMOTHY

[asher timothy balthazar]

HELLO MY NAME IS ASHER TIMOTHY BALTHAZAR AND I AM THIRTEEN YEARS OLD. I'M A KELPIE AND I'M AN ARISTOCRAT AND I WAS BORN ON DECEMBER 1st IN UKRAINE. MY NATIONALITY IS UKRAINIAN. PEOPLE SAY I LOOK LIKE JOSH HUTCHERSON. THEY ALSO SAY THAT I AM CALM, NICE, QUIET, SMART, OUTGOING. TO BE HONEST, I'M BEING PLAYED BY karma!

CODEWORD: (rosered.)

ROLE PLAY SAMPLE:

(Shane's feet trampled over the soft sands, his toes being pushed apart by the soft powder. He could feel metal miles beneath his feet, in case problems arised; a thing he usually would have accepted with open arms, but not today. He wanted to be alone for once, away from the cares of Ivory and the problems that always seemed to trouble it. So much new shit had happened in this past week; The scavenger hunt and being stuck with his brother and a girl, for who knows why, he fell in love with. The witch acting so strange lately, seeming nervous and actually scared for his precious little life. Then, of course, there was the fact that there was giant hole in the middle of the island. Now, the daimon had never had much common sense or always seemed to ignore that natural feeling of self-preservation, usually to get something he wanted and almost getting killed in the process, but for some reason he knew to stay away from that hole that seemed to capture the others curiousity. Part of him wanted to jump down there as well, but he refused to act on it.

Now, rumors were flying around the crowded island like crazy, and it seemed as if you couldn't turn your head without hearing something about scientists or some shit. Shane scoffed, because he wanted to stay as far away from it that someone stuck on an island could possibly do. Call it fear; he didn't care. It all sounded so stupid; he was sick of adventure, atleast for a good while.He could feel veins in his head thumping madly, and his brain felt constricted against his skull. Unsuprisingly, from what Ivory had decided to force on him as of late, he had began to develop migraines. His fingers rubbed against his temples at an effort to ease the pain, and he felt like just killing everything around him, but remebered the reason he came to this particular beach in the first place. The peaceful crashing on the waves, the soft white sand, the complete absence of danger, and devoid of people. Save for the last part, the place sickened him, no fun to be had whatsoever in such a safe place. But at the moment, it was the quietest place on the island. I guess everyone's in the mood for danger all of the sudden, he thought, and he attempted to block out thoughts of Pixie, and he hated how the girl seemed all he could think about for hours on end.

He shuffled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, which was dampened by dried blood and seawater. He'd found it on the ship not too long ago, and one of these days, he knew he'd use the thing. He took out a silver lighter, and the metal felt good against his hands as the flame flickered in the humid air, the light weakly dancing over the end of the stick before it caught fire in an orange ember. He was suprised he had never smoked before; atleast, not tobacco. It seemed strangely relaxing, but it still wasn't as good as weed or meth, but it was a good substitution at the moment as he struggled to keep his hands off his own "inventory". His stomach tiwsted round, and he felt sick as he took a long drag. It wasn't from the cigarette itself. He knew why; one of his siblings was near, and it was that starnge feeling he always got. The clean, neat smell that dragged through the air said Gluttony, and that only made hsi stomach pain him more.

His teeth clenched together, as the silver lighter melted in his hands into a dagger, and he spit out the cigarette onto the ground, smothering the firey embers with his feet. Veins popped out of his head and thudded steadily to the beat of his heart, as he awaited the arrival of his siter. Hissing, he wanted to kill the girl, just rip her apart with all the power he could muster with his muscles.)

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