Personal Message
Description
profile
orientation gay
r/s status single
abilities charmspeak
fighting style
hand to hand, close combat. knives or short-swords.
background
“Beautiful people get all the best in life.”
What a load of bull, that’s what Jongjin thinks about that. Dumped at his worthless father’s doorstep as soon as he was born, he needs no words to know that he was unwanted. Treated as an intruder as soon as he had arrived in his father’s sickeningly wealthy family, he does not need to be told that he’s the biggest crack and smudge in their perfect little family. He was an unwanted secret; something his father is desperate to keep hidden.
People outside of his family, people who’re ignorant of his family life would often look at him, slight in awe and jealousy, all of them whispering the same thing under their breaths. “Rich and beautiful people have it easy. The world is at the palm of their hands.” And he’d hold his head high and tug his sleeve lower ,and his collar higher, intent on hiding the scars that adorn his arm, and the bruises that mar his neck.
People outside of his family, people who’re ignorant of his family life would often look at him, slight in awe and jealousy, all of them whispering the same thing under their breaths. “Rich and beautiful people have it easy. The world is at the palm of their hands.” And he’d hold his head high and tug his sleeve lower ,and his collar higher, intent on hiding the scars that adorn his arm, and the bruises that mar his neck.
“Evil eye; that’s what you have, boy.”
Growing up, he already knows he’s different. People tend to do what he tells them to, no matter if they want to or not. He can tell his step-brothers to give him their toys and they would, he’ll get to play with their expensive toys for a while before the spell which bound his step-siblings wear off, and then they’ll come bounding in his room, banging on his door and dragging their mother in, with her upturned nose and her disgusted eyes. After a harsh slap on the face, she’ll look at him and he’ll look back at her, he feels her stare at his eyes; his right ever changing, never staying as one color no matter what, and with a tug, they’d get their toys back and say with utter hate; “You don’t deserve this, evil eye.”
He’d look at himself in the mirror, his right eye glinting with the multitudes of color, and he’ll reach out for the comb and brush his bangs, trying hard to conceal that ‘evil eye,’ because maybe, just maybe if he did, they’ll like him even more.
He’d look at himself in the mirror, his right eye glinting with the multitudes of color, and he’ll reach out for the comb and brush his bangs, trying hard to conceal that ‘evil eye,’ because maybe, just maybe if he did, they’ll like him even more.
“Everyone has their breaking point.”
High school was when he realized he was so much better than the people around him. He was beautiful, his peers would constantly say so, and he blooms with their compliments, becoming more confident, more friendly, and more outspoken. His siblings would glare at him from their own high horses, with their elites surrounding them and he’d smirk and give them the finger, saluting them for the attention no matter how hateful it was. He indulged himself with everything; parties, friends, people…he loved all of those who loved him, but not too much.
His peace in school was apparently the calm before the storm. After another explosive fight with one of his siblings, he had carelessly said some words, forgetting for a moment that he has the ability to coerce people to do his bidding; it resulted to his brother almost flinging himself out of the window. Shock was beyond what he had felt, it was dread and horror. His step-mother screeched for him to get out, out of their house and their lives, and he was more than glad to do so. He was out of the house as soon as he can, the backpack in his back enough for all of his belongings, not that he had much in the first place.
His peace in school was apparently the calm before the storm. After another explosive fight with one of his siblings, he had carelessly said some words, forgetting for a moment that he has the ability to coerce people to do his bidding; it resulted to his brother almost flinging himself out of the window. Shock was beyond what he had felt, it was dread and horror. His step-mother screeched for him to get out, out of their house and their lives, and he was more than glad to do so. He was out of the house as soon as he can, the backpack in his back enough for all of his belongings, not that he had much in the first place.
“Safe haven.”
Within a year out on his own, Jongjin had experienced life-threatening events more than he could imagine, some of said events he can talk himself out of, when his magical words does not work, he hightails out and runs for his life, quite literally. The past year has been scary, monsters he only knows because of books were after him and his blood, saying something about half-bloods and demigods and whatnot. It was maddening! He managed to fend them off on his own, finding that he’s quite adept in hand to hand combat and his trusty bat can smash a way out for him any time.
He was running away from a flying monster when he stumbled inside the camp, panting hard and confused when the monster didn’t dare follow him in. People greeted him and told him what he was, what his mother really was. He thought of it as incredulous, but then it does make sense. His weird eye, his powers, these monsters chasing him. He was a demigod, or whatever. Son of Aphrodite. It made him laugh bitterly, because where was that goddess of a mother when he was having a hard time. But he accepted it, but he still kept his evil-eye covered and his words guarded. He’s never making the same mistake, again.
He was running away from a flying monster when he stumbled inside the camp, panting hard and confused when the monster didn’t dare follow him in. People greeted him and told him what he was, what his mother really was. He thought of it as incredulous, but then it does make sense. His weird eye, his powers, these monsters chasing him. He was a demigod, or whatever. Son of Aphrodite. It made him laugh bitterly, because where was that goddess of a mother when he was having a hard time. But he accepted it, but he still kept his evil-eye covered and his words guarded. He’s never making the same mistake, again.
personality
As a child, jongjin was a quiet one. reserved to only when he was spoken to or reffered to. he never opens his mouth unless he was told to because his step-mom had told him that he has witchcraft in his words, its evil, she'd say; hissing at his ears with a cold smile. he was constantly overshadowed by his step-siblings, and no one even knows he exist. that was what he was, a secret the family can never reveal.
when he became a teen, he learned how to utilize his given gifts, his face, his charms...he searched for the attention he was deprived off of and lavished on the ones his peers give him. he regained himself. he's still a badly-kept secret, but he's a proud one. he doesn't care what his father and step-mom says on how he should act, he'll act as he want, besides they never did care, did they? he smoked, he partied, he met a lot of people who loved him and he loved them all back. he loved all of them purely and gave nothing of himself at the same time.
hiding behind playful jokes and a flirtatious attitude, he's a person who had built walls around his real self, something that he was forced to do when young. and that wall is unbreakable...unless you're determined enough to smash it down.
when he was a runaway, he found a way to hone his in-born strength and battle-abilities and used them to fend for himself while on the run. close-combat is his forte and unlike his sisters and brothers, he's not afraid to mess up his face and is used to knuckle-bruising punches. he gives as much as he's got and he's proud that he can knock people out. he's sometimes referred as the brute in the aphrodite cabin, and he loves it.