Charles Fletcher

Subject: Charles Fletcher Mon Aug 31, 2009 1:30 am

CharlesWendellFletcher
" I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity."-Edgar Allan Poe

You don’t know the torture, you don’t know the pain
Loving what you can’t have is driving me insane

Alias: arielthehero
Age: 16
RP experience: Nada
Timezone: Time does not exist
Other Characters: Noah Fairfield

I'm dangerous, I pull away. You're dangerous, so keep your distance
Still you run through my veins, and there's nothing I can do

Nicknames:
Age: 19
Birthdate: July 26, 1924 .
Group: Spirit
Hometown: Hartley Bay

I'll be waiting, waiting for you
Meet me in the, in the next life

Eyes: hollow
Hair: Short, dark brown
Height: 5’11
Weight: weightless…
Distinguishing features:
Clothing style: Old fashioned
Face Claim:

I still can hear you screaming. I still can see your eyes.
Believing in your love for me as you watched me die

Parents: Deceased
Siblings: Deceased
Pets: Deceased
Significant other:
Children: None
Other people of importance: Violet (beloved soul mate)

You’re dangerous, so keep your distance
Still you run through my veins and there’s nothing I can do

Who are you?: Charles Fletcher is your typical vintage gentleman. He is courteous, loyal, dapper, well-mannered, nonchalant, proper, etc. His only flaw? He’s dead. But his spirit has not entered the realm of peace-and he’s infuriated. No, not because he has not been laid to rest. No, not because his missing body has still not been found. No, not because he is but an essence of energy now, but because he was maliciously murdered, and he has yet to have his revenge. The recent missing children does not help Charles’s temper but instead feeds his fire of determination-to cease the murder and capture the sick slaughterer.

Charles has been trying to warn everyone by doing as much possible within a spirit’s capability, such as: leaving words on walls, shattering windows to get attention, summoning energy to communicate with the living in his own ways, leaving gruesome illusions, and much more. Charles channels all his suppressed anger and rage to anyone who will listen. He usually tries to communicate with the teenagers at Saint Alexander’s, since none of the adults of Hartley Bay are doing much to find the culprit. Though it may seem that Charles is trying to terrify the inhabitants of Hartley Bay, this is not necessarily so. Charles has taken the duty upon himself to warn and protect Hartley Bay, especially the children.

I’ll be waiting, waiting for you
Meet me in the, in the next life

Your life: Charles was born and raised like any other in Hartley Bay, quiet and content. He was any parents dream child, always meeting their expectations. He soared through school and was soon to graduate the Honour Roll Student. But it wasn’t the high grades and scholarships that thrilled Charles. T’was his new love, Violet, he had finally found and he planned to propose to her. Charles found life suitable and complete with Violet. Everything was more beautiful when they were reflected in her eyes, and their cradled hands fit together like perfect puzzle pieces. They went everywhere together, spent much of their time at their favorite places, just your general happy story. It was all perfect, it all fell into place.
Except…
It was the night Charles was walking home after accompanying Violet back to her house. He would propose to her under a full moon, which would be the next night. His heart swelled with joy, tugging a grin on his face while rounding the corner under a gaslamp.
All was silent.
Charles could feel the sickening shadow begin to come closer. His grin began to fall and his pace quickened. Every nerve in his body began to scream danger.
But all was silent.
Charles broke into a sprint across the field, just two blocks away from his home. The only light was the illumination of the mourning moon on the field, but not enough to see clearly. His heart was climbing up his throat causing him to take desperate gasps for air and lose focus. His unsteady pace caused him to trip over himself again and again while his end came nearer.
His frantic steps finally met stone again, granting him a sliver of hope. He could see his house clear in view. “I’m going to make it”, Charles thought.
And then
A swift agonizing sharp slice at his throat and the hot blood seeps out like a waterfall down his chest. Choking on the intake of his own scarlet suffocation. Vision…blackening…
Gone.
---
Wake up.
Charles rose to meet the tear filled eyes of all the people he knew. He did not know why they are crying, or why they were dressed in their best black outfits. He did not understand why this strange man was walking towards Violet to whisper to her softly and hold her hands in his. He did not know why those perfect sky blue eyes are now filled with storm clouds and raindrop tears. He did not know why he could not touch her, embrace her, or even talk to her and take away the very thing that ever caused her pain. He did not know why, despite all his attempts, he could not hold his delicate Violet and keep her from breaking.
He rushed to his weeping mother and weak father, trying to get their attention.
Nobody could see him.
Charles turned around in time to see himself, just barely recognizable. His other self was sleeping but he is pale, brittle, sickly looking, s o u l e s s.
Charles began to scream a blood curdling scream.
But no one could hear.
And that’s all Charles remembers. He only remembers his life being stolen away. With but a single glide of an object and his life left in a rush-h e l p l e s s.

It is here that Charles decided that there is nothing worse than watching your loved ones live and grow old without you. Especially when you have had to watch a presumptuous brute steal your loved one and live a life together. Because that’s exactly what Charles had to do.
He was forcefully ripped away from her…
His Violet…
It is only now that Charles has regained his composure and learned how to control his powers, due to decades of learning how to communicate with the living.
And now he will utilize it.

So now we've gone our own ways, memories dried and scabbed, your scars show on your hands, mine show in my eyes. So now we've gone our own ways, memories dried and scabbed
These scars show now

Admin Posts : 30 Join date : 2009-08-23 Age : 32