Post by Equius Zahhak on Aug 27, 2012 13:12:37 GMT -5
EQUIUS ZAHHAK
p a s t u r e s o f p a s s i o n
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Loud. Brash. Intimidating.
At first glance, one would be convinced that this was a man who had just stepped off the beaches of Jersey, ready for some gym, tan and laungry with plenty of extra benefits. Huge, rippled muscles thrust veins against skin; turning them visible and almost comical looking.
Comical looking if you appreciate pain.
There is not one characteristic on his body that does not scream "creepy" or "violent." When enraged, his teeth grit bitterly (hidden under too-thin lips; broken and damaged and capped and filled –- a source of shame for his stature), forming a hard line across his face that has already conceded to the onset of wrinkles.
This unpleasant state only serves to anger him further. Which leads to a more ingrained face and mashed teeth. Which leads to extended rage – ad infinitum.
Unyielding, too-small brown eyes -- concealed almost always by cracked shades -- with furrowed, thick eyebrows and a constant squint betray what many think is a distinct hatred to all who surround him. However, if he were to remove his glasses, one would suffer a much worse fate; for his eyes are laden with black dark circles, so prominent and large that, once noticed, they can be seen leaking out from under his shades. His chin -- inclined, so that he make look down upon you -- is blocky, defined and meticulously shaven. Thick, greasy hair lines his face in long strands that fall a little past his broad shoulders, almost never brushed but looking much the same for it. One would be ill-advised to touch it.
Has an incredibly prominent widow's peak. It's almost frightening.
Distinctly of Arabian descent, with dark skin, black brows and blacker hair.
Exquisitely triangular in form, with a wide torso, strong arms, chiseled pecs -- that sharply angles down into skinny legs and a more straight frame. Almost every inch of his body is layered with dark, thick hair, which is the most prominent on his legs. Doesn't do very well in accommodating his shape or his general look in his "fashion," and typically goes about in loose (what strangers call "aptly-named") wife-beaters, ragged shorts, pin-striped leggings (out of shame for the fact that his legs make him look something like a bear, presumably), and clown-like cleats.
Stands at much too tall -- towering over the others in his grade and some above like some sort of giant. When not enraged, he walks rather delicately, and hardly (if ever) breaks out into a full run. It can be assumed that he'd never need to.
Distinctly looks like he is not, in fact, fifteen -- but instead in his twenties. Or early thirties.
It's a little disquieting.
Immaculate hands. While much of his body is uncontrollable and seems to hit the ground a little too hard -- throw the ball a little too far -- crack the neck with too much expertise -- his hands, when placed near malleable machinery, seem to be blessed by Hephaestus himself. Quick, precise, undetectable movements -- so swift that your eyes might go dizzy from looking -- blur together as fingers tinker, palms caress. With tiny screws, he his but a gentle giant; guiding them to their place with such clever ways that one might believe that they had always been there in the first place.
What is meant for destruction can always create, after all.
Cautious in action, despite (or perhaps because of?) his size. Treads softly, but carries a big fist.
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He would be able to ride them like Genghis Khan himself, so in-touch with their natures, their very beings. Their hides would be his, and he would call upon them on bare whim -- charging with purpose into the fray, bow drawn -- a glorious Mongol fighting for his fermented mare's milk.
He would be so in touch with horses that he would also be able to talk with them. Their neighs would be sweet poetry to his elongated ears -- their whinnies, a symphony.
After his transformation, he would actually become a furry horse. And he would be completely naked. A wild stallion has no shame.
Somehow he would be able to shoot bows in this form and ride other horses. It would work out very well.
This is very disappointing to read, for it cannot be. However, it would be beyond glorious if it could.
Such is the bitterness of life.
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Also appreciates strength in others -- physical strength, emotional strength, authoritative strength -- he loves it all.
A little anti-social, and tends to judge people rather harshly. Only keeps within a circle of people he deems as being "worthy," if he can help it.
Easily flustered in social situations, and is more socially awkward than he'd ever admit. Trips over words when it's important not to, much to his displeasure.
Though Equius is, on his own merit, very commanding and stern in appearances and with initial words, it is not the station that he most desires. While he puts himself rather low on the totem pole as far as importance goes, it is not particularly difficult to force him into a place of "submission" and complete obedience. Appreciates intelligence and resolve much more than he lets on; in fact, he allows it to eclipse other ideals if the person in question proves themselves to be worth consideration.
Exceptionally obsessed with class and stature -- considers people poorer or less prestigious than him to be beneath his time. Structured to a fault, and is preoccupied with the obligations of each distinction in society; the rich must be refined and only set good examples for the ones below, the low must be debased and not above trash, and the middle should make up the cogs of society -- no great thinkers can arise from anywhere but the most distinguished classes. However, he is not above considering merit; if someone proves to him that they are better than the average "guttersnipe," he allows them to rise on their own accord, and has been witnessed spending considerable effort on people he deems worthy to bring them to their "deserving class."
Gets incredibly flustered when those of a higher class subject themselves to the aspirations and actions of those he deems as scum.
However, if they are higher than him... it is flustered in a rather different way than his anger management issues might suggest.
A staunch conservative at heart, Equius is very traditional in his viewpoints in the world. Religion has its place, women have their place, men have their place, government has its place -- and so on. Despises any variation of the form, and has further reservations about change.
Believes men should go out of their way to treat proper ladies like ladies. This is especially hard for him, because women tend to flee at the very sight of him.
It's all very frustrating. And by frustrating, one means angering.
Avoids curse-words as if they might bring some sort of plague about him, destroying him from the core. Also tends to avoid slang if he can help it -- for a person of true rank does not soil their own speech with the debased vocabulary of the destructive majority of society.
Or something like that.
Though many people with similar ideals as him (and even less in terms of fetishes -- of which he has many; most of them running concurrent with what he puts out to the public) tend to be very selective with how they practice what the preach, it is important to note that Equius is careful not to uphold anything that he will not do. His ideals trump everything -- if he chooses to believe in something (as it is always a choice; he is the master of his own universe if he desires so -- or if given the permission), then one can be assured that he'd defend it over anything. If his ideals conflict with his personal interests, he will drop his interests in their favor -- every time.
Puts what he believes over his own life -- over the lives of others. There is no doubt in his mind over whether or not this is the right thing to do. A true man of morals will stick to his ideals to the end.
But not his words. Be warned: Equius is a notorious %%er (er, double-crosser).
If he can get away with something without compromising his own ethics, well, he's just utilizing resources, after all.
Stoic and seems to despise fun. Hates games that do not operate on high stakes. Would have loved gladiator battles, had be been alive at the time.
Tends to gamble a little.
Adores all sorts of fauna (though he is most partial to horses), and absolutely refuses to put their carcasses in his mouth. It is a disgrace, in his eyes, to take such great things from the natural world. A rather annoying breed of environmentalist.
An intense lover of high art -- from poetry, to paintings, to musical art. Frequents the symphony, and goes out of his way to travel to see some of the greatest orchestras man has ever wrought (had seen the London Symphony Orchestra, the Berlin Philharmonic and the San Francisco Orchestra -- among dozens of others). His room is littered with high art, mostly dealing with some of the more controversial pieces -- but what is true art if not controversial?
His favorite piece is, of course, Wall Painting of Priapus, House of the Vetti.
While Equius is only a patron of the orchestra and of great, artistic paintings, he does attempt to contribute to the art world with some of his poetry. When pressed, he is inclined to share it -- carefully, cautiously; for he is immensely proud of every piece. Sometimes he will go to poetry houses to read them outloud, to mixed reviews from people who do not appreciate true genius.
You should consider yourself lucky if you have not had the misfortune to read a single line.[/ul]
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