Post by Percival Graves on Dec 11, 2017 7:26:36 GMT
Percival Graves
Will the faithful be rewarded...
Contractee
[attr="class","box_title"] Male | [attr="class","box_title"] Twenty | [attr="class","box_title"] Omnisexual | [attr="class","box_title"] Human |
When we come to the end?
[attr="class","about_1"] Basic Appearance
I can see the soul within
[attr="class","content"]
Brown hair upon a pale-skinned male, the son of the Graves family, which is unironically a gravedigging family, but despite this Percival looks far too pristine to be your average twenty year old man gravedigger. His clothes are often prim and proper, to a fault even. No one can say he doesn't look impeccably dressed, but few would pay him the compliment from his permanent scowl; the term often used as resting bitch face. That's because often times, the man has no smile, and it's rare to find one given to him. Instead, a more devious, destructive look seems to take his mouth and eyes, as if he wants to watch the world burn asunder.
Percy doesn't fit a gravedigger in physique either, looking to be slim, with little body fat or muscle on his bones, sitting at a tall and lean six feet even. Often he wears gloves, and the rest of him will be more suited for a professional appearance, because he believes himself higher than gods, or angels, or demons, and he shows that in his movements. Never does he touch anything without gloves on. His piercing caramel eyes seem to look into others souls, and see if they are worthy or not.
Now, his attire since coming to the house is still that of princely, pompous nature. He still wears suits, or clothes to make him feel self-important, because he is all that and let no on tell you otherwise.
Brown hair upon a pale-skinned male, the son of the Graves family, which is unironically a gravedigging family, but despite this Percival looks far too pristine to be your average twenty year old man gravedigger. His clothes are often prim and proper, to a fault even. No one can say he doesn't look impeccably dressed, but few would pay him the compliment from his permanent scowl; the term often used as resting bitch face. That's because often times, the man has no smile, and it's rare to find one given to him. Instead, a more devious, destructive look seems to take his mouth and eyes, as if he wants to watch the world burn asunder.
Percy doesn't fit a gravedigger in physique either, looking to be slim, with little body fat or muscle on his bones, sitting at a tall and lean six feet even. Often he wears gloves, and the rest of him will be more suited for a professional appearance, because he believes himself higher than gods, or angels, or demons, and he shows that in his movements. Never does he touch anything without gloves on. His piercing caramel eyes seem to look into others souls, and see if they are worthy or not.
Now, his attire since coming to the house is still that of princely, pompous nature. He still wears suits, or clothes to make him feel self-important, because he is all that and let no on tell you otherwise.
[attr="class","about_1"] Personality
Will I miss the final warning...
[attr="class","content"]
Before coming to the house, Percival was a man who was very pragmatic, yer stubbornly selfish. He didn't do manual labor, and often fought his father on the actions. He never asked to be a gravedigger, but his father would make him dig anyways. A burning resentiment burned in him since those days. But does that mean at some point he was a good person? Yes, at some point. He had friends, being somewhat friendly, but he often spoke his mind, trying to compose sentences to get his point across, even if he soudned like a dick. He was a guy with no filter, and that seems to have only carried over with his coming to the house.
As mentioned before, upon coming to the house especially, the best way to describe Percival is one word; dick. He is a pompous ass, acting self-important. He believes he is all that, and dammit he is. He lives in his own world, and that world lives within the house, because he IS self-important. Being a prince, he believes himself to be the creme de la creme. And he won't mind showing it by beating other servants and slaves as he sees fit. He is the best, because he comes from the best. His inflated ego only shining through more and more. If people lick his boots, he'll tolerate them, and at the very least he can appreciate others for their good qualities, saying his mind when they impress him. Which is rare.
Overall though, Percival is a downright despicable human being that should be a demon, all things considered. But he isn't.
Likes: Strawberries, strawberry candy, perfection, worshipers, groveling, insulting others, being center attention, cursing
Dislikes: Graveyards, tombstones, manual labor, his dead parents, his dead brother, lower class, lower-middle class, middle class, interruptions, being alone because of who he is.
Before coming to the house, Percival was a man who was very pragmatic, yer stubbornly selfish. He didn't do manual labor, and often fought his father on the actions. He never asked to be a gravedigger, but his father would make him dig anyways. A burning resentiment burned in him since those days. But does that mean at some point he was a good person? Yes, at some point. He had friends, being somewhat friendly, but he often spoke his mind, trying to compose sentences to get his point across, even if he soudned like a dick. He was a guy with no filter, and that seems to have only carried over with his coming to the house.
As mentioned before, upon coming to the house especially, the best way to describe Percival is one word; dick. He is a pompous ass, acting self-important. He believes he is all that, and dammit he is. He lives in his own world, and that world lives within the house, because he IS self-important. Being a prince, he believes himself to be the creme de la creme. And he won't mind showing it by beating other servants and slaves as he sees fit. He is the best, because he comes from the best. His inflated ego only shining through more and more. If people lick his boots, he'll tolerate them, and at the very least he can appreciate others for their good qualities, saying his mind when they impress him. Which is rare.
Overall though, Percival is a downright despicable human being that should be a demon, all things considered. But he isn't.
Likes: Strawberries, strawberry candy, perfection, worshipers, groveling, insulting others, being center attention, cursing
Dislikes: Graveyards, tombstones, manual labor, his dead parents, his dead brother, lower class, lower-middle class, middle class, interruptions, being alone because of who he is.
[attr="class","about_1"] History
From the lie that I have lived?
[attr="class","content"]
Before -
Hell for Percy was a cemetery of lies. Each grave was a mistake for him, and due to his brother and parents constantly living up to the name, he believed himself to be a buried, forgotten man. His parents were rude, they were evil, or bad, but they were stubborn, and wished for Percival to become a gravedigger like they were. But Percival wanted more. He desired more, and he needed more in his life. He couldn't dig graves all his life. He couldn't live in a pillow sack every season of the year.
Hubris got the better of young Percival. His own ego was far too bloated. He wanted more. He needed more in his life in Maine. He didn't want to become his father, his mother, or his brother; submitting to his face. One fateful argument, it seemed Percival gave in too. Until his shovel hit the head of his father and mother. Percy even dragged them out to the cemetery, and dug them an unmarked grave.
His brother didn't take too kindly to that, and hindsight was 20/20. After calling the police, yet never outright stating Percival's name, Percy did the same to his brother. And he realized he had no other place to go now. He was trapped. Except to hide out somewhere secluded. Taking his father's savings he kept on the fridge, Percival sat at the lovely amount of $5,000. And with it, he bought clothes, a hair cut, and just pristine and proper clothes for him.
Yet again, the hindsight on that. AFter all his spendings, he was tracked down by police slowly. After some games between them, equating to mental chess, the now more pristine looking prince found his way to the house on the hill. He rushed through to the house, despite rumors he may have heard, signing away his soul for protection, to become a prince in a new life. He was royalty, dammit. He believed that to a fault, with an ego so inflated, that even he seemed too big for the house.
And so he became a Doll. Well, a self-proclaimed doll anyways. He was actually a Contractee. But for his soul, he became the prince he so desired.
After -
Percival became a prince thanks to his soul being gone. Money flew into his pocket, and suddenly his problems went away at the drop of a hat. He became a famous guy, young, and not at all coming from a gravedigger family. He bought a penthouse suite for just himself, to which he drinks red wine every day he can, and only the best foods cooked for him.
His visits to the house are simply one reason for happening, and one alone; for the servants and slaves to lick his boots like the pathetic lot that they will always be. He'll kick them if he's feeling in the need for some physical punishment. Being a prince now means he'll treat anyone lower than himself, after all, even masters. His visits to the house are simply that; visits of spite, until his clock runs out.
Before -
Hell for Percy was a cemetery of lies. Each grave was a mistake for him, and due to his brother and parents constantly living up to the name, he believed himself to be a buried, forgotten man. His parents were rude, they were evil, or bad, but they were stubborn, and wished for Percival to become a gravedigger like they were. But Percival wanted more. He desired more, and he needed more in his life. He couldn't dig graves all his life. He couldn't live in a pillow sack every season of the year.
Hubris got the better of young Percival. His own ego was far too bloated. He wanted more. He needed more in his life in Maine. He didn't want to become his father, his mother, or his brother; submitting to his face. One fateful argument, it seemed Percival gave in too. Until his shovel hit the head of his father and mother. Percy even dragged them out to the cemetery, and dug them an unmarked grave.
His brother didn't take too kindly to that, and hindsight was 20/20. After calling the police, yet never outright stating Percival's name, Percy did the same to his brother. And he realized he had no other place to go now. He was trapped. Except to hide out somewhere secluded. Taking his father's savings he kept on the fridge, Percival sat at the lovely amount of $5,000. And with it, he bought clothes, a hair cut, and just pristine and proper clothes for him.
Yet again, the hindsight on that. AFter all his spendings, he was tracked down by police slowly. After some games between them, equating to mental chess, the now more pristine looking prince found his way to the house on the hill. He rushed through to the house, despite rumors he may have heard, signing away his soul for protection, to become a prince in a new life. He was royalty, dammit. He believed that to a fault, with an ego so inflated, that even he seemed too big for the house.
And so he became a Doll. Well, a self-proclaimed doll anyways. He was actually a Contractee. But for his soul, he became the prince he so desired.
After -
Percival became a prince thanks to his soul being gone. Money flew into his pocket, and suddenly his problems went away at the drop of a hat. He became a famous guy, young, and not at all coming from a gravedigger family. He bought a penthouse suite for just himself, to which he drinks red wine every day he can, and only the best foods cooked for him.
His visits to the house are simply one reason for happening, and one alone; for the servants and slaves to lick his boots like the pathetic lot that they will always be. He'll kick them if he's feeling in the need for some physical punishment. Being a prince now means he'll treat anyone lower than himself, after all, even masters. His visits to the house are simply that; visits of spite, until his clock runs out.
[attr="class","about_1"] Other Information
I am not worthy of this
[attr="class","ooc_box"] Kiwi |
[attr="class","ooc_box"] Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 5; Akechi Goro // Percival Graves |
[googlefont=Montserrat|Open+Sans|Josefin+Sans|Lobster|Acme']
[newclass=.box_title]width:77px;border-bottom:1px solid #222222;background:#88688b;padding:5px;font-family:Acme;font-size:10px;color:#DAC6DE;text-align:center[/newclass]
[newclass=.about_1]margin-top:15px;padding:10px;font-family:Lobster;background:#88688b;color:#DAC6DE;font-size:20px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.content]width:280px;padding:20px;text-align:justify;font-family:Josefin Sans;font-size:10px;color:#DAC6DE;line-height:1.2em;[/newclass]
[newclass=.content b]font-family:Acme;text-transform:uppercase;color:#88688b;[/newclass]
[newclass=.ooc_box]width:270px;padding:6px;background:#88688b;font-family:Acme;color:#DAC6DE;font-size:10px;[/newclass]
