Profile
DON'T TEMPT ME...
"...I might really want it."
to be updated, lel
Details
Likes
- licorice & kordia cherries
- pushing people's buttons
- his job
- puns
- getting up in people's space
Dislikes
- snow (it's harder to clean blood off the ground)
- having to hold back
- bland food
- wasting time
- memories of the past
Trivia
- As someone who enjoys fighting to the point where he seeks it out, Aithen is driven by his instincts. Though he's picked up a few formal styles of fighting from his many odd jobs, he's mixed them all together to create something flexible and unpredictable.
- Despite becoming quite good at sniping and shooting, he still prefers to feel the skin breaking under his knuckles. It just... hits different. Get it?
Personality
Debonair
Dark eyelashes and darker eyes, the way he smiles holds an edge of something dangerous.
Resourceful
To have so little taught him how to make use of less. Crafty solutions don't always need deep pockets.
Hedonistic
It rolls off the tongue so very easily, befitting of a word that emphasizes frivolity and danger. No matter the consequences, no matter the outcome, he's someone who'll chase after his own pleasure endlessly.
Insatiable
It's never enough. Nothing is ever enough and he's sure nothing will ever be. Feel free to prove him wrong.
Forgetful
He's not sure if he's always been this way or if it was something that crept up on him but... what was that?
Self-Serving
There's only one side he's on in the face of conflict—his own.
Aesthetic
Summary
Animals were born hungry, always wanting but not knowing what for.
Aithen was no different because he was human, a human who lived like a dog in the dirty streets. He was more gnashing teeth and feral smiles than silver civility—than that gleaming thing called manners that people loved so. He was more flesh stitched together like a patchwork of sins, he was more beast than man and that in itself should have been an indication.
But when he was young, his mother had told him he was her little leopard. Without fail, in every desolate motel they stayed in, she would hold him close enough that he could smell the smog still stuck to her clothes, that he could hear her heart beating slowly, calmly as if it had been a lullaby just for him. With calloused fingers she tucked his hair behind his ear and told him stories about his dad, how he had been something called an ashuri too.
She never finished her stories, trailing off with her eyes staring at something far beyond him.
(He never realized they weren't just bedtime stories until she was gone.)
Did he know? That losing something he'd always had would make the space it left behind unbearable? That gnawing, itching expanse of emptiness that settled in his stomach felt wrong—suddenly it had become a black hole and he was slowly getting eaten. This wasn't right. He wasn't right, something was missing, he needed it, but what was it?
W h a t w a s i t ?
The hunger was like a sickness clawing up his throat—no matter how many times he filled his belly, he needed more. (Had it been because he had known hunger? Because he had known hunger intimately, the way the pain curdled his stomach and woke him up at night.) The neverending craving, the endless desire. (Because he had always wanted what others had—for as long as he had known, he had wanted.) Nothing was enough. Why was everything not enough?
By the time he was sixteen, Aithen was more sin than virtue, more beast than animal. Salivating, lust dripped from his mouth as if he was a man starved, his fingers digging into flesh and bone as his teeth grazed skin. Wrath dyed his hands with blood and coloured his smile red. Dull eyes shone with envy, turning his gaze green because there was always someone doing better, someone who had more than he did—and wasn't that a shame? Greed wrapped its hand around his heart and squeezed until the only thought in his head was to fill the hole in his soul.
He picked up skills as if it would curb his appetite, keeping his hands busy as if it would stop them from reaching for more.
Insatiable monster; he would hoard the world if he had to.
HTML by Eggy
