Raven Blackmoore [D2]

[kousei ♚]

Name: Raven Blackmoore
Age: 16
Gender: Male
District/Area: District 2
Appearance:

Personality:

Mmmm blood.

History:

Codeword: ODAIR
Comments/Other:

Laurent Meri

[kousei ♚]

Raven Blackmoore

In the deepest hours of the night when no one is awake and around there sits a boy. A rich and well looked after boy no older than seventeen, he sits in his pajamas, loose, baggy and well designed, very stylish. He sits in quite a big bedroom for all by himself, he's in a good mood, holding a pen in his hand a newly bought book in his hand. It's black and has smooth leather and ins fancy red writing it says 'Private Diary'. He smiles widely, his pink lips parting and showing white teeth. He opens the book and begins to write.

Dear Diary,

Today I turned sixteen, I really love it and it feels good to feel more like a young adult than just a kid now. Even my brothers were nice to me for once! I think that I've changed a lot in the past years since I was little and now look at me, I feel more like a man now. I've grown to be 5 foot 9, 5 foot 9. That's almost six foot isn't it? Some day I'll be six foot, I've always been pretty tall for my age. My hair has gotten a bit darker, a kind of lighter black color. Oh and I was taken to get a new hair cut for my birthday. My hair's medium length now, I look more professional, I've been needing a hair cut for a while now. And I swept it to the side because apparently that's a thing now.

My eyes are greenish blue as always, some people say they're green some say they're blue, I guess sometimes I can't even tell. People say I've been getting paler, I used to be pale but not like this. I think I really need to start drinking it again soon, I just need to, then I'll be big and strong again. I've even grown in muscle now, I'm not huge like my brothers because I don't spend all of my time pumping weights in the gym like them. I just like to take care of myself, eat healthy, exercise drink more and more blood, that kind of stuff. My Adams apple has gotten bigger and more visible now, I'm becoming more and more of a man! I love it!

My fingers are still the same old stupid fingers, I guess it's my fault isn't it? Biting my knuckles and finger nails all the time. Now I can't even straiten my fingers properly, there's like small bulges on them from where I was constantly biting and breaking the skin and they're always at this weird angle. I hate it, at school yesterday people started laughing at me because of my fingers, this happens a lot. When it happens I just want to take a knife and stab them in the face, I hate being laughed at! I hate being mocked! I guess this is the reason I don't like holding hands with people, I think they'll laugh at my hands. Is that a bad thing? Am I being stupid?

But all in all I had a great time today and I love the way I've grown! I guess I'll be writing in this a lot from now on. See you later. I think.

[/font][/size]

And with that page full he closes the diary, slips it under his pillow and crawls into bed.

Days later

In the darkest hours of the night while everyone is asleep sits a boy on his bed. However he's not writing in a diary nor relaxing, he's sitting in a fetal position, hugging his knees to his chest. His eyes are blank, his body is shivering and his skin is still really pale. He watches the stars and moon intently, trying his best to actually keep concentration, his vision blurred slightly from exhaustion and strains clearly shown under his eyes. I need it.[/color] He thinks to himself as he slides off his bed and slowly opens the door and creeps across the hallway.

He stealthily creeps down the stairs, his career training clearly coming to good use as no one walks down to inspect any noise. He slowly goes into the basement, the smell of fresh and old blood is almost overwhelming and would make any normal person gag but he is not a normal person. While the Stone family was one of the richest families in District two they had their dark secrets, the children can barely be called human. He continues walking through and starts to see blood spattered across the floor and walls. He grins darkly and scoops a bit with his finger and sticks it in his mouth.

He lets out a long moan of pleasure and smiles, however that's just a taster, that's not what he went there for. the warm, metallic taste doesn't satisfy his sick needs, the scarlet taste just isn't enough. He continues walking, ignoring every other horrifying site he sees and goes to a small draw in that basement, in that is jar full of the blood, warm crimson blood that sloshes every time he moves it. He slowly twists the top and pops it open, letting the smell overwhelm him. At first he dips his finger into it and pops it into his mouth, he gives off a louder, longer moan of pleasure. And then he simply begins to gulp down a bunch of the blood, taking in mouthfuls, almost draining the whole jar, leaving about 1/4 of it left and then he stops.

My needs are finally satisfied.

He sighs, closes the jar and puts it back in the drawer. He smiles, that's like his favorite drink, the jar of blood.

He quickly runs out of the basement and slowly locks it up again. He creeps back into his room and closes the door, his shaking has stopped and he feels stronger, he feels powerful. I feel like a career again. He quickly grabs his book from under his bed, gets a pen from his desk and begins writing again.

Dear Diary,

I did it again, I feel so good because I did it again! The blood, I tried to see if I could go for a while without it but I simply couldn't how could you expect me to? It's blood, it's the very thing that keeps us -especially me- alive! I guess I just can't bare going without it, it's been going on, even when my parents were alive, even before I moved in with my cousin I've always been like this. My obsession with blood, no one knows about it, I make sure no one notices when I sip their life force.

You see diary people think I'm the only normal one in my family. This whole family if full of psychopaths, yes we're rich careers but most of us aren't even human. I prefer not to dabble in with their kills, I just prefer to injure someone and drink their blood, not kill them, I guess sometimes I drink the blood of the corpses my brother's or cousins kill. My two brothers are the worst. I mostly sit in my room, hang out in my room but they're out, some of them kill, some of them train to kill but either way this family is far from normal. I'm not ashamed of it, after all I guess I'm as sick in the head as them, I just don't let anyone know it, especially my family. Our basement is a thing of beauty, all the corpses and blood, I could probably clean the floor with my tongue, I just can't stand all the blood being wasted, rotting, the flies being attracted to it and drinking it for themselves! Selfish! Don't they understand that I'll die without it?

I've never injured myself and drunk my own blood, that's no fun, drinking my own blood. I prefer other people's blood, my own blood is just so boring. All the different tastes and textures

I guess I'm as weird as them aren't I? After our parents died and me and my brothers moved in I think it just became worse. I only really started this after I turned eight. I was still so young. And then one day I walked into the basement, oh that basement that I always seem to see and visit, my first time going there. I saw them, the corpses, the dead people. I saw some guy I knew, I think he was my old third grade teacher and he was dead, a slit throat and a few stab wounds, that was still freshly bleeding. I was so scared but my curiosity spurred me on. I don't know why I then slipped and fell on top of him, the smell of blood was overwhelming, the blood was on my face, hands, I guess a lot of it got into my mouth.

It actually tasted kind of good so I kept on drinking uncontrollably, I don't know when I stopped but I know that I stopped. And as I grew older the urges for blood grew worse and worse, greater and greater. I couldn't control myself anymore. I guess that's when I grew more and more enthusiastic about career trining, I figured if I could handle a lot of blades I could cut more people, and if I cut more people I could draw more blood, and that's when it all started and that's who I am.

I don't know why I'm telling you all of this. I guess I just need someone to open up to. You can expect more and more conversations between us because you're the best listener I've ever met.[/size][/font]

With that the boy closes the black leather diary, having just conveyed a bunch of secrets to her it. He then sighs and slips the diary under his bed. With a satisfied grin he slides under his bed covers, switches off the light and slowly lulls himself to sleep.

I promise to write my character realistically. Before I decide to give my character a disease/mental disease, I will respect my character and my fellow roleplayers by researching the disease I will be writing about. I promise never to write a character who's main plotline is that they have a disease. I promise to not let my character turn into a gary-sue because of their disease.

WC: 1709

Edit note: I was told this was okay by staff. The whole plot names had to be changed so the only thing I changed was this name.[/color][/blockquote][/justify][/size]

Narrative
"Speech"
Thoughts

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[kousei ♚]

*Collapses in chair*

Finally... ferking... finished.

[charade]

Creepy, but not the first killer we've had. Bear in mind the stone's family's activities might land them in the DC in the future. Otherwise,